chapter twenty-nine

 

An hour later, Michael and I left Cornelius, Knowles, Longinus and Miri in a heated discussion. I didn’t have anything more to add. All that talk about Lost Ones and someone Pure of Heart and the blood of a god—it made my head spin.

Before, I thought I knew it all. Thought I knew all about Hell, even though I knew I didn’t know much about Heaven—but now it felt like I didn’t know anything at all.

We walked toward the back of the cemetery, where we’d had lunch earlier. Except it wasn’t today anymore—it had to be two or three in the morning. I looked into the sky, searching for the moon, for the coming sun—anything to ground me in this moment. But storm clouds hid the moon from view.

Michael tightened his grip on my hand, swallowing it up in his large, strong one. A thrill shot through my arm and all the way down my spine.

“Desi . . .” His breath hitched and he stopped walking, his face caught up in the shadows of the overhanging trees and the dark night. He sighed, a sound that filled my heart with longing, and took my other hand. He looked down on me. His lips parted. His eyes glittering with their own light. I stepped closer. “I’ve missed you so much.” His husky voice caressed me and I yearned for him.

With a soft rush of air he grasped me to him and pressed his lips against mine. Not soft this time, but crushing, passionate, hungry.

I lost all track of time, all conscious thought.

There was just Michael.

His hands, warm and strong on my back, pressing me to him.

His heartbeat matching the crazy rhythm beating in my own chest.

His lips, soft, pliable, moving on mine in a kiss that fit perfectly.

His taste—oh, a taste I’d so missed even though I never knew it. Now I wondered how I could have ever forgotten.

And oh, oh, oh.

There was only us.

 

 

Michael released his grip and softened his kiss. I sighed and leaned forward, resting my forehead on his chest where his heart tried to regain its normal rhythm. My mind reeled. Could it really be? Could this be real? Michael and me?

My legs quivered and I felt . . . free. Joyful.

This wasn’t like it had been with James. Every time with him I felt a little dirty, like I was using him. It felt good but . . .

It could never be like this.

I didn’t have to Remember to know it could only be Michael.

Would always be Michael.

Forever.

He pulled me to a slightly damp bench facing a towering stone angel. It seemed to be bestowing a blessing on us, the way its head bowed in our direction, its hands clasped in prayer. Looking at it, I couldn’t help but wonder about Michael—and about me.

The pathway at my feet was dotted with puddles of rain water—I guess it had rained while we were inside. I patted a puddle with my foot.

“What’s it like?” I blurted. “Asgard, I mean.” I took a shaky breath, not realizing until the words came out that I really wanted to know. About heaven. About me.

Michael sighed, a happy sound, and he slouched a little, letting his body rest against mine. My stomach flipped again and I wanted to take his hand, hated seeing them hanging loosely between his knees like they were.

No sooner had I thought it than he reached across our laps and grasped my hand. He began to trace aimless patterns on my open palm.

“What . . . what do you Remember?” He hesitated, like he was afraid of the answer.

I wasn’t so sure of the answer myself.

How could I explain how I both loved and hated the dreams, the Memories? That while I felt hope, I also felt horrible and awful—completely unworthy? I wasn’t that girl, the one in the dreams. I wasn’t who Michael Remembered.

Michael swiveled until he faced me. His fingers tightened around mine and his gaze pierced my heart. “Desi, I know you. I know you from the inside out. Maybe I even know you better than you know yourself.”

I jerked back, trying to pull my hands away—but he wouldn’t let them go. His eyes begged me to listen to him, to stay and talk with him. And love for him burned within my soul—I knew I had no choice but to listen.

“I don’t think I like you reading my mind.”

And Michael smiled, glorious and bright and I knew—I knew—that I’d do anything and everything to see him smile like that, every day, always.

“Of course you don’t.” His smile took on a mischievous slant, turned up on the left corner. Love flared within me, so familiar, so unreal. “And of course I’ll respect your wishes.” He pulled his lips down and faked a serious expression—even though his eyes kept glimmering. “I promise, I will never read your mind—unless you ask me to.” He laughed, a soft sound that felt as refreshing as a light rain. I couldn’t help but join him.

“If I ask you to? Why in the world would I ask you to read my mind?”

He dipped his head, and with his right hand pulled mine forward so our foreheads met. “I can think of a few reasons. Like this,” he kissed my temple, “and this,” he kissed my cheek, “and this,” he kissed the corner of my lips. And damn him, I’d been thinking of those very things, those very kisses, and oh, I wanted more.

“Hey,” I managed, but my heart wasn’t in it.

Michael laughed, pulling back and making me employ all my will to resist leaning in and making him kiss me—forever.

“Well, I wanted you to know just how useful reading your mind can be.” His eyes sparkled and I knew he knew what I was thinking. I felt my cheeks grow warm and the sensation was so surprising that I had to reach up and touch my face. My cheeks burned beneath my cool fingers—I had never felt my body so warm, except when I’d Become. But right now I was just me. Just Desi.

Whatever that meant.

I took a breath, trying to steady my racing heart, cool my burning cheeks. “So. What’s it like?” I turned away from Michael—which felt like the hardest thing I’d ever done—and stared at the face of the stone angel. I willed myself to stop thinking about kisses and touches and . . . . Stop. Just . . . stop.

Michael waited a moment before slipping his hands from mine and facing the angel. He kept his pinky hooked around my own. It felt so good. So natural.

“It’s beautiful.”

I almost interrupted him, because really. Beautiful? I figured it was beautiful. But I was glad I didn’t because he started talking again. “It’s lush and rich. Green hills, lots of trees. Just . . . beautiful.” He shrugged, probably thinking his description was a little vague. But I closed my eyes and I could see the whole thing.

“Are there gardens?”

“There are many gardens. There are gardens full of flowers, gardens with koi ponds, and gardens with so many roses you can get drunk on the scent alone.”

My shoulders sagged. I wanted him to tell me about our garden, the one from my dreams. Maybe I’d just imagined it, after all. Michael took my hand, curling his fingers around mine.

“Is it warm?” And I wished I could have made my voice sound strong, but right at that moment I didn’t feel it. I felt lonely, and embarrassed and something that felt like homesick. But can you be homesick for a place you’ve never been? Or at least couldn’t really remember?

“It’s so warm,” Michael said. “There’s this one place,” he scooted a little closer to me and rubbed his thumb gently on my hand. “It’s secluded. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone else there, at least . . . not for a long while.” His voice trailed into a whisper and he grew quiet.

“But it’s my favorite place in all of Asgard. It’s a small clearing, with a stand of birch trees surrounding it. The sun filters down just so, giving enough light that the space is warm and the golden light dances around on the grass in a way that is . . . perfect.” He turned his face to me, and I could see him out of the corner of my eye, but I didn’t move. “And in the shade of the trees grow hundreds of Lily of the Valley. All year long. It’s the sweetest scent in all creation.” In a whisper he added, “They remind me of you.”

I did face him then, and I knew. I knew he was talking about my garden—our garden.

It was real.

He was real.

This was real.

“I’m not perfect,” I whispered. I hadn’t felt the tears coming, but the next thing I knew my eyes filled up and cool tears slid down my cheeks.

Michael slipped a hand under my hair and around my neck. I wondered what he thought when he touched me. Did he think my skin was too cold? When he looked into my eyes—or worse, when he read my mind—what did he think of the things he saw there? Of the evil I’d Become?

“Desi, I’m not blind to what you are. But you are the same warrior I knew in Asgard. You look the same, you feel the same.” He brushed his thumb across my cheek to dry my tears, but they kept coming.

“But I’m not the same. I’m not.” He had to understand this. Had to know. I pushed away from him and stood, walking a few paces away, splashing in the puddles. I couldn’t think when I was so near him. “Michael, I’m not the girl you Remember.” I forced myself to look at him. Forced him to look at me. I let my Shadow expand until it towered above me. “This is what I am now.”

Michael sat there, elbows on his knees, hands dangling loosely between them. He didn’t take his eyes from mine. Didn’t even glance at the black-as-night monstrosity that was the essence of my shadow-self.

His eyes locked on mine, he said, “That’s what you are, not who. I know the who, and that’s the person I love.” And then he did look at me—all of me. He took his time, looking first way up to the tips of my wings, then around the perimeter of my right wing, and then back to my eyes. “Maybe it’s you who can’t accept what you are.”

I let my Shadow take on more substance, not just the hazy quality of shadows, but more like smoky glass. “I accept it. This is who I am now. What I am.”

Michael stood and took my hands. “Not all of what you are.”

His skin began to glow, softly at first, like a trick of the light—except there was no light here, it was utterly dark, and my Shadow only deepened the night around us. His Halo materialized behind him and my breath caught in my throat. He was so beautiful.

I felt my Shadow recede, shrinking in on itself, while the other part of me, that spark of warmth I’d wondered at my whole life, began to grow.

More and more, the warmth took over.

The tendrils of black snaking up my arms sunk back under my skin, only to be replaced with fiery trails.

Soon my whole body was aglow, reflecting Michael’s light and sharing my own. I had light to share.

Michael smiled and squeezed my hands. “This. This is what you are too.” And then he Became.

Unbidden, I threw my head back and screamed as the most exquisitely wonderful pain slashed through me. And then it was both of our lights shooting high into the dark night.

We were no longer in human form with Shadows and Halos only. We Were.

We were angels.

I was an angel.

And when he kissed me then . . . it was Heaven.

“How am I like this? How can I be . . . you know? This.” The glorious light that had filled my mind and body was already fading, already letting the familiar cold take its place. The golden tendrils faded on my left arm and tears sprang to my eyes. I didn’t want to see the black again. But I was pretty sure it didn’t matter what I wanted.

Michael, his glory receded and only his boyish beauty remaining, considered me. Probably trying to figure out the best way to tell the person you love how they turned out to be a freak.

“What did your father tell you?” He stumbled on the word father, like he hated to use that word in any context with Lucifer. I wasn’t sure what I thought about that. Because I hated everything Father was, hated the life I’d had in Hell, hated every moment of association with the dark. But he was still my father and as weird as it sounds, I felt something for him. I don’t think it was love, but it was something.

“Um, nothing? He’s told me basically nothing.” I forced myself to drop my hand and look Michael in the eye. “The only thing I know is that Father has produced many children, but I’m the only one to survive my birth. I assume my mother died in childbirth.”

 

Michael nodded. “Why do you think it is that you’ve been the only one to survive? Have you never wondered what made you different from all the others?”

I didn’t have an answer. Of course I wondered. I lifted my shoulders in a half-hearted shrug.

“Come on,” he said, pulling me back to the bench. This time we sat facing one another, our knees touching, my hands in his. Sitting, I could look into his eyes better, and oh how I loved to see their warmth and light. It made this horrible conversation bearable. Sort of.

“Your mother . . . she wasn’t human.”

I stared at him for a second. What other choice was there? A Gardian would never have been with a demon. Not ever. “She had to be,” I said, a bit too sarcastically. “Look at me. I’m a mess.”

Michael took a breath, and paused before going on. “You are not a mess. You are glorious. Perfect.” He looked into my eyes, gauging my reaction, I guess. Except I had no idea what he was talking about, so I had no reaction at all. “Your mother was a Valkyrie—one chosen to bring the valiant home to Valhalla because of her beauty, compassion and strength. The Valkyrie embody all that is good in Asgard. They are more than warriors, they are as close to perfection as a Gardian can achieve without Ascension.

“When Odin,” he gave me a pointed look, “cast Loki and all who supported him, out of Asgard, he sent them to Helheimer—a realm of cold darkness, ruled by Odin’s estranged sister, Hel.”

“Yeah, I know all about Hell.” I rolled my eyes. No one knows better than me what Hell is.

“But Lucifer found a way to travel from Hell to Earth—he created a Door and through it he can influence man, rob them of their Ascension. Here, without Odin to protect them, they are completely incapable of resisting him.”

Michael turned his gaze toward the stone angel presiding over our meeting. A shiver raced down my spine.

“We were supposed to all come to Earth. A spirit quest, of sorts. A chance to choose the light and Ascend. A chance for true Heaven.” His voice was soft, wistful, like that had been his greatest wish. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want this Earth life.

“Anyway, Odin couldn’t just let Loki have free reign here, so he sent a handful of Valkyrie who were especially compassionate and fierce. The Valkyrie knew Earth and man. They had come many times to escort valiant warriors to Valhalla, where Odin gives them rest until the time of Ragnarok has come.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line, but still didn’t look at me. If it weren’t for his fingers wrapped around mine, I might have thought he was already having second thoughts. “I wanted to come—to be on the front lines defending man from Loki and the Fallen—it seemed like what I’d been created for.

“But Odin said I was needed in Asgard. That I would yet one day fulfill my purpose.”

“What’s your purpose?” I asked, kind of afraid to speak too loudly or interrupt his story.

“He wouldn’t tell me. And I’m not sure I understand even still.” When he looked back at me, there was so much tortured sadness in his eyes. I wasn’t sure which was worse, him not looking at me, or him looking at me with such pain.

“We had so much time together, you and I. It seems we’ve always been together.” He squeezed my hands, and his gaze filled with love.

“So what happened to the Valkyries who came to fight Father?”

Michael swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and looked down at our hands. “Well, they organized The Hallowed—as Cornelius told you.”

I nodded. I was coming to understand this part.

“The Valkyries loved man. And they loved the men and women of The Hallowed who gave their lives in the fight against the dark. Many of the Valkyries turned against Loki themselves—striving to banish him from Earth before he stole away anymore of the ones they loved.”

I couldn’t figure out from his tone what Michael thought of that. Did he despise them? Did he think man wasn’t worth fighting for? Because a demon was probably even worse.

“Your mother, Desi, was the queen of the Valkyries. She watched as her sisters time and again failed in their fight against Loki. And so she gave herself to him.”

“She did what?” What the hell? “And I bet she’s dead now, too. Isn’t she?”

Michael nodded and the brief lift to my heart fell, crashing to the bottom of my stomach.

“You were right when you guessed she died giving you life.”

“I knew it.” Because I was desolation—and death and destruction was my promise. Just like Father always said.

“Desi, you need to understand—she knew. She knew exactly what she was doing and she chose it—she chose to be with Loki.”

I couldn’t stand it. I jumped to my feet and took two fast steps away from him. I stood staring at the praying hands of the stone angel, determined not to look at Michael. I imagined grasping those small, innocent hands in mine and crushing the hope right out of them.

“Why?” I asked the statue. “Why would she do something so . . . horrible?”

“For a long time The Hallowed had been losing the battle against the dark. Your mother knew that the only chance we had was for someone stronger than any human to stand against him.” He paused and cleared his throat. It seemed like he had something more to say, but wasn’t too happy to say it. I almost turned around. Almost.

“The Hallowed asked Odin to intervene. To send Valkyries once more. But there are few left, and he said no. He said he’d already sent many of his precious daughters and man and demons had cut them down, killing them and their offspring to the very last one. He said he could do no more.”

I whirled around, prepared to demand what kind of god would decide something so cruel and heartless like that. But a thought tickled the outside of my consciousness. I felt like if I’d only think about it a moment, I’d understand. I’d understand all of it.

“But you’re here!”

“It is against Odin’s wishes,” he said quietly, his head bowed. “As I have said, Heimdall is a friend. He has allowed me to watch you. Every time you came within his purview, he would call me. When he foresaw your return to Earth, I left—without asking Odin’s leave.”

“But—won’t Odin be angry? Will he let you return?”

Michael raised his eyes from the wet sidewalk to look at me. “I don’t care whether I return home—as long as I am with you, I will be in heaven.” Tears pooled in his eyes, and it broke my heart to see such pain, such love, in them.

“I Remember the day like it was yesterday.” He stared at me, hard. I was powerless to turn away. “We were in the garden, sparring. You with your staff, me with my sword. We’d fought together for so long that we just ended up laughing because we knew each other’s tricks. We knew by heart which moves we’d make.” Laughter carried in his voice and I cracked a smile, but Michael didn’t. He just continued to speak like he was telling me the most terrible story in all the worlds.

“And Odin called you. Though I hadn’t been summoned, I went with you. We were one.” So easy. Just like that.

There was no him and no me.

We were one.

“I thought he would call you to be a Valkyrie—there was no better choice among all the Gardians. But he asked you, ‘Would you give your life, and possibly your eternal soul, to be my weapon against the Trickster?’”

In a flash Michael stood before me, my face cupped in his hands. “And oh, my brave, brave, love. Odin had barely spoken the question before you said yes. And my heart broke.” His tears fell then, like a dam had broken.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“No, my love. No. Don’t be sorry.” He kissed my cheeks, then locked his lion-eyes on mine. “My heart was broken at the thought of you in such peril—but I knew you would do it. As quickly as you answered, I already knew. You loved Odin. You loved your people. You would do whatever he asked of you. And in truth, there was never anyone more capable than you.”

Michael tipped my face toward him, deepening the connection between us. “You are desolation, my love. You are, and ever will be our greatest weapon against Loki and his demons. This is the purpose for which you were created. I am honored to love you. I am honored to call you mine.”

His words, his gaze, the feeling in my heart.

The cold on my skin, the fire in my soul.

It was everything,

consuming,

overpowering,

empowering.

I collapsed in tears on his chest.

Desolation.

Akaros’ voice slithered between my ears and took up residence right between my eyes. My head throbbed with the promise of a migraine. I would speak with you.

I backed away from Michael. He must have seen the sudden fear on my face because his eyes grew wide with alarm. “What? What is it?”

“I’ve been summoned.” I fought to keep my voice even, completely free of emotion or concern. If there was a chance The Hallowed were wrong, now might be my only opportunity to speak with Akaros, to clear things up, save my friends from getting in harm’s way. In Father’s way.

“Summoned?” Michael said, the muscles in his arms bunching with tension.

“It’s just Daniel,” I lied, as easily as breathing. I shrugged in an effort to sell it. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Just another all-nighter or something he wants to show me off at.”

“I’ll come with you.” He took my hand and turned toward the parking lot.

I stood still, forcing him to turn back to me. “Um, no. It’s okay. It’s just a party, seriously. Not a big deal.” I looked toward St. Mary’s and gestured in an I-don’t-know-what-the-hell-to-say sort of way. “Do they know when, you know, all this stuff is gonna go down?”

Michael shrugged, but his eyes were wary and he didn’t speak.

“Well, so it’s okay, right? I’ll just go, satisfy Father—keep him from suspecting anything. Meet up later?”

“So you won’t mind if I come with you then.” And he was so serious, his expression as dark as a thundercloud, that I laughed out loud. A real laugh this time, that made Michael soften just a bit.

With the release the laughter had given me, I relaxed into Michael’s arms and sighed as he embraced me. “Do you really think that’s a good idea? To go to one of Daniel’s parties? I mean, really.” I laughed again, willing him to believe me, to realize he didn’t want to even step foot on Daniel’s property again, let alone hang out there for a couple hours.

At last his body relaxed and he squeezed me to him before letting go. “I guess they could probably use me in there.” He glanced over his shoulder toward St. Mary’s.

Seeing my chance, I went for it. “Yeah. I bet Miri would appreciate another sane person joining the debate.” Michael’s rumbled laughter made me wish I could press my cheek to his chest, just to feel it. “Try to get them—at least Miri and Father Cornelius—to get some sleep. Dawn’ll be here soon.” I stepped away from him, stretching our fingers out between us.

“I’ll be back as quick as I can, okay?”

Michael looked up at the sky that had lightened to a navy blue with the coming morning. He stuffed his hands into his pocket. “As quick as you can.”

“Deal!” And I didn’t stick around to see if he’d really let me go or if he’d insist some more that he come with me, I just took to the sky and flew.