Becca Fitzpatrick: Silence

“Your imagination astounds,” the archangel said, but her voice came out haggard, and I knew Patch was onto something.

“You haven’t heard the end of the story,” Patch said. “I’m betting Hank sold Chauncey out. And then he sold the archangels out. Picking up where Chauncey left off, he’s been using devilcraft ever since. The archangels want him out of the picture before he passes the knowledge on to anyone else. And they want devilcraft back where it belongs — in hell. That’s where I come in. I’m asking for the archangels to tamper with death one more time. Let me kill Hank. He’ll carry the knowledge of devilcraft to his grave, and if my theory is as dead on as I’m betting it is, that’s exactly what you and the rest of the archangels want. Of course, I’m sure you have your own reasons for wanting Hank dead,” Patch added meaningfully.

“Pretend for a moment the archangels could tamper with death. I couldn’t make that decision on my own,” she said. “It would require a unanimous vote.”

“Then let’s take it to the table.”

The archangel spread her hands wide. “In case it isn’t obvious, I’m not at the table. I don’t have a way to get from here to there . I can’t fly. I can’t call home, Jev. As long as I’m cursed with devilcraft, I’m an invisible spot on their radar.”

“The power in an archangel’s necklace is stronger than devil-craft.”

“I don’t have my necklace,” she said wearily.

“You’re going to use my necklace. Talk to the archangels. Present my idea and take a vote.” He pulled his archangel’s necklace from his pocket and unclasped it for her.

“How do I know this isn’t a trick? How do I know you won’t force me to answer your questions?”

“You don’t. The only thing you have at the moment is faith.”

“You’re asking me to trust a known betrayer. A banished angel.” Her eyes locked with his, searching his face, which was as opaque as a lake at midnight.

“That was a long time ago,” he said quietly, holding his necklace out to her again. “Turn around and I’ll put it on you.”

“Faith,” she repeated just as softly. Her eyes seemed to weigh her options. Trust Patch, or tackle her problems alone.

At last she turned and lifted her hair. “Put it on.”

MY BREATHING SLOWED AS I REALIZED PATCH’S arms were secure around me. We were sitting on the floor in his bedroom, and I was leaning back against him. He rocked me gently, murmuring soothing sounds in my ear. “So that’s that,” I said. “I really did kill Chauncey. I killed a Nephil. An immortal. I killed someone. Indirectly, but still. I killed .”

“Your sacrifice should have killed Hank.”

I nodded numbly. “I saw you tell the archangel. I saw everything. You used Gabe, Jeremiah, and Dominic to clear the warehouse and get her alone.”

“Yes.”

“Did Gabe find Hank and force him to swear fealty?”

“No. He would have, but I got to Hank first. I wasn’t completely up-front with Gabe. I let him think I’d give him Hank, but I had Dabria waiting outside the warehouse. The moment Hank surfaced, she grabbed him. When I came back here and found you gone, I thought he’d gotten to you. I called Dabria and hauled Hank here to interrogate him. I’m sorry about Dabria,” he apologized. “I took her with me because I don’t care what happens to her. She’s disposable. You’re not.”

“I’m not mad,” I said. Dabria was the least of my worries. I had a much bigger concern hammering inside me. “Did the archangels vote? What’s going to happen to Hank?”

“Before they voted, they wanted to talk to me. Given everything that’s happened, they don’t trust me. I told them if they’d let me kill Hank, they wouldn’t have to worry about devilcraft anymore. I also reminded them that if Hank dies, you’ll become the leader of his Nephilim army. I promised them you’d stop the war.”

“Whatever it takes,” I said, nodding impatiently. “I want Hank gone. Was the vote unanimous?”

“They want this mess behind them. They’ve given me the green light on Hank. We have until sunrise.” It was then that I noticed the handgun on the floor beside his leg.

He said, “I promised I wouldn’t take this moment from you, and if that’s still what you want, then I’ll close my argument on the subject forever. But I can’t let you walk into this blindly. Hank’s death will stay with you forever. You can’t take it back, and you’ll never forget it. I’ll kill him, Nora. I’ll do it if you’ll let me. The option is there. It’s your choice to make, and I’ll stand beside you either way, but I want you prepared.”

I didn’t flinch. I picked up the gun. “I want to see him. I want to look in his eyes and see his regret when he realizes where his choices have left him.”

Only the briefest moment passed before Patch accepted my decision with a nod. He led me into the secret corridor. The only light flickered from the mounted torches. The flames illuminated the first several feet down the corridor, but after that, I could see nothing through the suffocating blackness.

I followed Patch deeper and deeper, the corridor gently leading us downhill. At last a door appeared. Patch tugged on the iron ring pull, and the door swung toward us.

Inside, Hank was ready. He lunged for Patch. Manacles brought him up short, catching his fists midair. With a chuckle that sounded too insane for my liking, he said, “Don’t fool yourself into thinking you’ll get away with this.” His eyes gleamed with equal parts approval and hatred.

“Like you thought you could fool the archangels?” came Patch’s level response.

Hank’s eyes narrowed warily. His gaze fell on the gun in my hand, registering it for the first time. “What’s this?” he asked in truly chilling tones.

I raised the gun, aiming it at Hank. I took satisfaction in watching his face cloud with confusion, then hostility. “Would someone tell me what’s going on?” he snapped.

“Your time is up,” Patch told him.

“We’ve made our own agreement with the archangels,” I said.

“What agreement?” Hank snarled, rage seething from every word.

I narrowed my aim to his chest. “You’re not immortal anymore, Hank. Death came knocking after all.”

He gave a short, incredulous laugh, but the fearful glint in his eyes told me he believed me.

“I wonder what it will be like for you in the next life,” I murmured. “I wonder if, right now, you’re second-guessing the life you’ve built. I wonder if you’re rethinking every decision, and trying to figure out where it all went wrong. Do you remember the countless people you used and hurt? Do you remember each of their names? Do you see my mom’s face? I hope so. I hope her face haunts you. Eternity is a long time, Hank.”

Hank beat against the chains so violently, I thought they would snap.

“I want you to remember my name,” I told Hank. “I want you to remember that I did for you what you should have done for me. Showed a little mercy.”

His wild, vindictive expression was suddenly etched with guarded speculation. He was a clever man, but I wasn’t sure he’d guessed my intentions just yet.

“I’m not going to lead your Nephilim uprising,” I told him, “because you’re not going to die. In fact, you’re going to live quite a bit longer. Granted, you won’t be living at the Ritz. Unless Patch intends to upgrade this chamber.” I raised my eyebrows at Patch, asking him to weigh in.

What are you doing, Angel? he murmured to my thoughts.

To my amazement, my ability to speak to his mind came naturally. An instinctive switch flipped in my brain, and I channeled my words by sheer mental power. I’m not going to kill him. And you aren’t either, so don’t get any ideas.