The Gates of Paradise (23 page)

ingsley’s sword was at her throat. “Why is this happening again?” he asked. “Why do we always seem to find ourselves here?”

“Destiny, I suppose,” Mimi said, finally breaking her silence; though she knew it probably wasn’t the time for joking around.

“You know I love you,” he said.

“Do you? You’re so in love with me you’ve been running around with half the girls in London?” she said with a raised eyebrow.

“They meant nothing—and I did nothing with them. I tried to forget you. God knows. I was mad. I tried to find something—anything—that would make me forget you. But no one could. I’ve been faithful, I swear. Appearances can be deceiving. You of all people should know that.”

Mimi continued to glare at him even as she felt a tremendous sense of relief.

Kingsley brushed his sword on her skin like a caress. “And I know you love me. You told me that you’d love me no matter what, and I should remember that. So why are you trying to get me to forget that now?”

“Because this is how it has to end,” she said.

“You know that’s not what I want,” he said, but Mimi could see doubt in his eyes. He didn’t understand why she was doing this, and that was good. She needed to confuse him, to convince him that she was hateful.

He was better off without her. He’d have a chance at happiness, at a better life. He could find someone else, someone who wasn’t so complicated, so difficult. Someone
nice
. That was a word no one would ever use to describe her.

Kingsley’s sword hovered at her neck, then slashed at the collar of her blouse.

“Hey!” she cried. “Careful! It’s Chanel!”

But his eyes were locked on the emerald stone sitting at the base of her throat.

“Is that what I think it is?” he said, horrified.

Lucifer’s Bane. The Star of Heaven. A treasure more precious than the stars themselves. Given by the Morningstar to his dearest love.

“I told you, I am with him now,” Mimi said. “He is my Dark Prince and master.”

n the shore of the river of gold, the victor’s city shall once again rise on the threshold of the Gate of Promise.

He had taken her to the gate, hidden deep underneath the oldest standing church in the city: St. John’s Chapel in the Tower of London. Down beneath the church, in the tunnel that led to the Paths of the Dead, and toward the stone altar in the middle of the passage.

The Gate of Promise was a slab with a circle cut out of the center, and paths had been carved into the stone surrounding it. Almost like one of those puzzles with a miniature pinball in it.

Jack laid her on the stone, and it felt cold upon her back. For the first time, she was truly afraid. She understood now what the grooves in the slab were for, and how the gate would be opened. A pathway of blood. Once again, the gate’s destruction would demand a sacrifice.

“Jack,” she cried as he leaned down toward her neck, his fangs outstretched, until she could feel their sharpness on her skin and a trickle of blood. His body lay heavily on hers, and she could feel their hearts beating in tandem. She had told him the truth—that he could take what he wanted from her—and when he sank his fangs into her neck, she felt the same shudder of ecstasy and pleasure that it had always brought her. Her blood mingling with his. She felt his spirit overwhelm her, and she opened herself to him. He was drinking from her so deeply, and she surrendered—if this was death, then she would welcome it. She wanted to be one with him, for all eternity. She could feel a change within him, a quickening, an excitement. He was cold no longer, but warm, so warm again. But he had never taken her like this before, and she felt dizzy and weak. He was taking too much from her, too much blood—and it fell upon the stone, and the etchings on its slab came alive, awakened, opened.…

And still he drank as he held her down, keeping her hands at her sides. His grip was like ice, shackles around her wrist. Pleasure and pain, life and death, blood and sacrifice.

Finally he stopped and released his fangs, but now she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. He whispered in her ear, and for a moment, Schuyler thought she was safe. That he had returned to her at last.

Jack shook his head. “I’m not going to kill you,” he said softly.

“Because I am,” said an unfamiliar voice.

Schuyler looked up to the sound and saw that Lucifer and his armies were massed behind Jack. The Fallen angels, their demons and trolls; Hellhounds and every creature of Hell were ready and waiting.

For the sacrifice.

For her blood to open the gate.

could feel him. He was calling for me. His voice, so
beautiful even then. He was saying:

Gabrielle. Do not fear. Do not fear me. I love you. I will not harm you.

Stop.

Stop and listen to me.

Gabrielle, my light. Stop for me.

But I knew if I stopped I was lost. I knew that he had planned this
all along, from the very beginning.

As I ran away from him. I saw someone in the passages.

A girl.

She had beautiful red hair and green eyes.

My daughter. My daughter with him. I could see it in her sadness.
The scar through her shirt. I knew what had put it there. I could see
the remnants of your sword shattered in her soul; knew that its power
had healed her.

I understood then, that this was not the end.

This was only the beginning.

But maybe there was hope.

There was a boy with her. A wolf. And I knew. I knew how to
get help.

I could see the past, the present, and the future.

I brought her close to me.

I whispered in her ear.

other.”

“Lupus Theliel. My wolfsbane.”

“What is happening to you? We can help.”

“You cannot stop this from happening. He will come for me. And it will be done.”

“No!”

“There is nothing you can do now.”

“No,” Bliss sobbed. “He will destroy you.”

“Listen—the wolves—the Praetorian Guard—they will rise here—they will help Michael defeat the demons and their king for now.…And when Lucifer returns, you must have them by your side.” Gabrielle looked at Lawson. “Fenrir, it is up to you to restore what has been broken.”

“We cannot free them. The passages are blocked. We have been unable to return to the underworld,” Lawson explained.

“This is our only chance, then,” Gabrielle said. “He will take me, and he will be distracted. When it happens, the path will be open.” She turned to Lawson. “Open the portal and it will take you where you need to go.”

“We can’t leave you here!” cried Bliss.

“It is too late for me.”

“Mother…”

“It has already happened,” Gabrielle said. “Nothing can change that.”

She turned away from them and kept running.

And they saw him.

Lucifer.

He appeared in the tunnel as his true immortal form. He was beautiful and golden, his wings stretched to their full span. He stopped Gabrielle from running, appeared right in front of her.

Took her in his arms.

“Gabrielle.”

Now!

“Lawson! The portal!” Bliss whispered.

He did not hesitate. He took her hand and Malcolm’s in his.

The passage opened before them, and they jumped through.

he Prince of Darkness, the King of Hell, the Morningstar, the Lightbringer, Lucifer the Archangel of the Dawn, stood before her. He was so beautiful, just as he had been on that mountaintop in Rio, when Schuyler had first seen him. His beauty was painful to behold. His light was stronger than the sun’s. He was Heaven’s son personified.

Schuyler could not move. Jack no longer had his arms around her, but she was held by a dark enchantment, bound to the stone altar. She was so weak, she had lost too much blood, she could hardly move even without her bonds.

Lucifer smiled and caressed her hair. “As beautiful as your mother, perhaps even more so.”

“Don’t talk about my mother. You don’t know anything about my mother,” Schuyler said, finding it difficult even to speak.

“On the contrary, my dear. Your mother and I…well, let’s just say we are very, very old friends. I know Gabrielle perhaps too intimately. I finally understood this was what she was hiding from me. It was so easy to find after all. So this is what she had been planning. Salvation. Redemption. There will be no redemption today. Only revenge and
triumph.”

Lucifer bent down by her neck, and Schuyler cringed away from him and closed her eyes tightly, preparing for his fangs to pierce her skin.

But he suddenly recoiled. “Abbadon! You drank from her!”

“My apologies, my lord, the temptation was too great.” Jack bowed.

“Yes, I see,” Lucifer growled. “No matter.” The Dark Prince took his sword and cut her throat, opening her jugular, and her lifeblood poured out of her, onto the stone tablet, opening the gate. A river of blood…

So this was death. Schuyler had wondered if she had inherited the immortality of her mother’s kin, and now she knew. She had not. She was mortal. She could die, and she would die now. Today.

She could no longer speak, no longer think. But she held on to the one thing that she knew was true. Her love.

Jack…Jack…my love…help me…
she sent. Even if he would not answer, she still held on to him. He was all she had at the last.

Only Jack.

She stared at him, at his blank eyes, and she prepared for death, prepared for the end of her life.

I have nothing to regret. I regret nothing.
She had tried and failed everyone—her mother, Lawrence, the Coven. She had failed Jack as well. By falling in love with him she had doomed him. But even so, she could not regret their love. She had tried her best and she had lost.

She closed her eyes as her life drained from her.

Then, all at once, through the fog, as if from very very far away, Schuyler heard him. Heard his voice in her head.

Jack’s voice.

Reaching out to her like a lifeline, a light in the dark. Just as she’d hoped. Perhaps the Sacred Kiss had returned him to her somehow.

But when he spoke, his voice was cold and cruel.

Only your father can help you now,
Jack sent, as he stood at Lucifer’s side, watching her die.