The Rephaim: Burn Part 32

'Is that why you didn't want another child?'

Nathaniel's hands ball into fists, grazed knuckles pressing into the sand. I look to Jude. Nathaniel always told us he didn't father a child the first time around. Was that another lie?

'Nathaniel,' I say. 'Was one of the nephilim yours?'

His broken wings shudder.

b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l. Nathaniel was a father once...and he watched that child die. The significance sinks in. No wonder he wanted to believe so badly that we had a destiny. He wanted to convince himself as much as the Garrison that we were different from the half-angel b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who came before us. Even if none of us were his.

'Semyaza and his cohort did not learn the lessons of their recklessness,' Gabriel says. 'They repeated their transgression at the first possible opportunity. They l.u.s.ted for the pleasures of the flesh, and they yearned to create life once more.'

'Why didn't you go with them?' I ask Nathaniel.

He lifts his face. His wounds are weeping. 'I could not bear the desolation a second time.' He finally looks at Gabriel. The sight of the angel seems to sharpen his pain. 'And then I was spared when my brothers disappeared. When I saw the signs, I knew it was a chance for redemption, to save this new generation from the fate of the last-'

'Nathaniel.'

The fallen angel pauses, swallows. Waits for Gabriel to continue.

'You were spared from exile with your brothers-in-arms because of your discipline. That was your redemption. You had freedom, Nathaniel, yet you could not see it. You could not accept a gift so simple.'

Nathaniel stares at Gabriel, understanding dawning. Everything he's done over the last one hundred and forty years was for nothing. His slate was already clean.

I watch as the archangel's words further crush him. He starts to shake. His feathers rustle as his wings spasm and shudder. He slumps forward to the sand and clasps his hands over his head as if to ward off an attack, mutters words I don't understand. Completely unravelled.

I have to look away. But there's no relief here. The beach-my beautiful, sun-drenched beach-is a battlefield. The surviving Immundi are still pus.h.i.+ng through the portal like frantic commuters at peak hour. The esplanade is a war zone, fire and smoke and overturned vehicles. The stench of ash and burning plastic carries across the road to us and the sky is still all wrong.

The rest of the Rephaim are as lost as I am. Ez and Zak are together, hands clasped. Jones prods a cut on his neck. Taya, Malachi and Micah stand close, swords hanging loose in their hands. s.h.i.+rts bloodied and torn. Daisy has moved next to Jude, freckled cheeks flushed, eyes sharp.

I need s.p.a.ce. I squeeze Dani's shoulder and guide her back to Jason.

'Why didn't you just send the Fallen back to h.e.l.l when they broke out?' Jude asks. 'Where have they been?'

Gabriel nods: this is what he wants to tell us.

'Semyaza and his second-in-charge-Orias-pierced the veil and touched the minds of your mother and her cousin. I saw this, and I watched and I waited. I proposed that the Garrison let our brothers escape and give them the freedom to choose their own destiny. My captain, Michael, agreed, but only on the terms that I must take responsibility for whatever transpired. I accepted, with terms of my own: that Michael not interfere unless commanded to do so.'

I wish I could read Gabriel and understand what's going on here. Is he explaining because he's going to spare us, or does he want us to understand before he kills us? Or sends us to h.e.l.l with our fathers.

Gabriel checks Semyaza. The leader of the Fallen scowls at him.

'As soon as they were loosed from the pit, Semyaza and Orias entered this realm in the place you call Monterosso, Italy. The others scattered to the corners of the earth, to willing women. Fertile women.'

'And you let it happen.'

The accusation comes from Ez.

'Your fathers chose their own fate.'

Ez clicks her tongue. 'You allowed the Fallen to create life-create us-and then you took them away. You left us alone.'

'What would they have learnt if they had remained here?'

'What did they learn being away from us?' Her voice breaks a little on that last word.

'They learned to watch.'

'Watch what?'

Gabriel's lips twitch in what could be a hint of a smile.

'You.'

CHIP OFF THE OLD BLOCK.

'Me?' Ez asks.

'All of you,' Gabriel says. 'These warriors are first and foremost watchers.'

Semyaza grunts. I can't tell if it's derision or annoyance, but he doesn't interrupt the archangel.

'All the suffering they endured in the abyss taught them nothing, so a different approach was required. I let each of you live so that they could watch, see the consequences of their actions. To witness the shame of their abandoned women, to see their offspring grow and struggle as they understood they were different from their mothers and from everyone around them. I wanted the Fallen to see the legacy of their selfish desires. I trapped them in a dimension where they could live freely but with the burden of knowledge and understanding. A place where they could witness but not intervene.' A quick glance at Semyaza. 'I underestimated how profoundly your fathers would yearn for you.'

I scoff. 'For freedom, you mean.'

'No, child. For each of you.'

Semyaza locks eyes with me, challenging. Daring me to contradict Gabriel. A long-buried yearning of my own stirs, but I refuse to expect anything from this scruffy warrior.

'Semyaza sent signs to Nathaniel and when that did not unfold as he antic.i.p.ated, he reached out through Orias's bond to his human bloodline.'

An angel with fair hair and a long curly beard steps out of line and positions himself in front of Jason. His eyes are unexpectedly kind, his lips soft. 'I am Orias.' The family resemblance is striking.

Jason draws Dani closer. Blows out his breath, shaky. 'Are you saying the gifts given to the girls in my family came from you?'

'Yes.'

'But the girls are from a human bloodline.'

'Your mother bonded to me.' Orias says it quietly, respectfully. 'A connection such as that cannot be easily sloughed off. It permeated every fibre of her being and was pa.s.sed to the daughter she carried after you, and beyond.'

Jason swallows. Blinks rapidly. Orias lowers himself to one knee so he's at eye level with Dani. His irises settle to a slow dance. 'Our connection has carried through your bloodline for six generations, and yet it is stronger in you than any other in your line. Because of you, I am finally free. Thank you.'

She lifts her hand to touch the bristles on his cheek. 'It's nice to meet you.'

He closes his eyes. Smiles. 'You too, sweet child.'

'What about my family?'

It's Mya who asks the question-not of Gabriel, but of her own father.

Hadrial stands to attention with the rest of the Fallen, as near to Mya as he can be without breaking ranks.

'Did you give my grandmother her vision?' she asks.

'If it had been me, Myanna, it would not have driven a wedge between you and my brothers' offspring. If it had been me, you would not have spent your life feeling so broken and damaged.'

Her eyes harden. 'You think I'm worthless too.'

'No,' Hadrial says quietly. 'I do not.'

Mya's lips tremble, but whatever she's feeling, she fights it. Her right ear is torn and bloodied, her hair loose and wild. She's all fury and grief. 'So which of you screwed up my family then?'

A revving engine cuts through the tension, gears crunching. Mick's dented four-door ute barrels along the esplanade and skids to a stop near the boardwalk, loud in the stillness. Mick, Rusty and Jess pile out, falter when they see the second army below us on the beach. A cigarette dangles from Mick's lips.

'What the-'

Jude holds up a hand to warn the three of them to stay on the road. Not that it will keep them safe if trouble breaks out, but they might have half a chance to get clear. The beach beyond the resort is deserted now. Wherever the demons have gone, they've closed the gate behind them.

'Who messed with my life?' Mya hasn't noticed Jess. She's too caught in the moment.

'I did,' Gabriel says.

Mya's head snaps in his direction, and then she looks to me-me, not Jude-confused. Opens her mouth, closes it again.

'Why?' I ask for her.

Semyaza shakes out his feathers. 'A failsafe.'

I raise my eyebrows at my father-feel that weird sense of being unst.i.tched when he meets my gaze.

'When Gabriel ripped us from this world, he sealed the portal with my blood. He set a ward upon it that only the blood of my offspring could reopen it, and-as you now understand-that would remain sealed until all of our children were of one mind to release us.'

The archangel stands between Fallen and Rephaim, perfectly still except for his eyes, which move from Semyaza to me. 'I had thought it would take centuries-longer-for the progeny of the Fallen to find each other. But when Semyaza led Nathaniel to each of you and he brought you under one roof, my hand was forced. Nathaniel had not yet found Mya. By keeping her alive and instructing the family to hide her from him, I ensured there would always be a child alive and separate from the rest of you. You would never be of one mind.'

'But Jason was already separate,' I say.

Gabriel nods, once. 'He was insurance. And then you compromised him.'

When Jude and I found him by accident not long after our eighteenth birthday.

'That's why you led Mya's family to him.' It's not a question: I understand now. Mya's family told Jason the Rephaim were an abomination, but if he kept away from us he'd be spared the punishment coming our way.

'Yes.' Gabriel is unapologetic.

Mya wavers, unsteady on her feet. Hadrial is beside her in a heartbeat-s.h.i.+fted-his wings tucked away out of sight. She's so off balance she lets him help her to the sand, where they sit cross-legged facing each other.

'But the feather...the trumpets?' For the first time since I met her, Mya sounds as young as she looks. She stares at Gabriel. 'I heard that story a thousand times. That it was Michael, the mighty Captain of the Garrison, who chose our family to protect the world from the abominations fathered by the Fallen.'

Gabriel's shoulders move a fraction, the hint of a shrug. 'I cannot help what mortals choose to see and believe.'

I think about the story Brother Stephen told us last night, about Heinrich cutting Mya, his grandchild, to see if she would bleed, and then preparing to execute her as he'd killed her mother. The only thing that stopped him was his wife's vision.

'You saved Mya's life when you gave her grandmother that vision,' I say, holding eye contact with the archangel, even though it makes my head swim. 'But you did it in a way that encouraged her family to revile her.'

'That was not my intention.'

I pick through all the pieces we've been given. 'What possessed you to give them the knowledge to build the iron room? You couldn't see how it might backfire, giving them the keys to a prison for us?'

A muscle jumps in Gabriel's jaw and I know I've hit a nerve. He hasn't shown any urge to repeat his genocidal tendencies-yet. Maybe I shouldn't be giving him an excuse.

'The connection Orias formed with Daniella changed everything,' he says, glancing at her. 'She was able to see what he and the rest of the Fallen could see. She could see you. Sharing the knowledge that enabled the holding cell to be constructed was a moment of frustration intended to balance the scales. It was an error.'

I look from Gabriel to Semyaza to Nathaniel, still shuddering on the sand. The three angels who have shaped our lives. Manipulated us. Who have failed us each in his own unique way.

'Okay, enough with the drama,' Rafa says and cracks a knuckle. 'We get it: Nathaniel f.u.c.ked up. The Fallen f.u.c.ked up. You f.u.c.ked up. We all did.' He spins his sword hilt, points the blade at Gabriel. 'So the question is, have you finally shown your face to give us a history lesson, or correct your mistake? What happens now?'

Awesome. So much for not giving Gabriel an excuse to end us. Only Rafa would provoke an archangel. I try to catch his eye, but he's not looking my way and not likely to any time soon. He has no intention of backing down.

'Do not tempt fate, Rafael.' It's Barakiel, the blond angel with the dreadlocks and scar across the bridge of his nose.

Rafa turns on him. 'This is all one big game to you lot, isn't it?'

'Enough, son-'

'Don't f.u.c.king son me. You're my father? Big deal. You want me to fall at your feet and weep? I've survived a hundred and thirty-nine years without you, so whatever's coming next, I can face it without you too.'

'You have some skill as a fighter, however you are but a mote of dust to Gabriel-'

'Some skill? You want to throw down, old man?'

Barakiel bristles. 'You are well overdue for a lesson in respect.' He snaps out his wings to their full span.

Oh yeah, they're related all right.

'Respect for who, you?' Rafa starts down the dune. 'Why? Because you got a hard-on and knocked up a virgin a century and a half ago? Hardly makes you father material.'

The Fallen move aside, give Barakiel s.p.a.ce.

'That is ironic coming from you'-Rafa's father waits for him-'given your history with women.'

Rafa spins his sword, taunting. 'You're a gutless old p.r.i.c.k.'

'And you, son, are a hypocrite.'

Laughter carries across the beach. It's enough to break through Rafa's anger. He rounds on Gabriel.

'What's so funny?'