Black Heart

9

THE PASSAGE THROUGH THE PORTAL WAS RELATIVELY placid. It felt like floating through water, and then I was out on the other side. Daharan caught me easily and placed me on my feet. I shaded my eyes from the burning sun and looked around.

The land of the dead was just as crappy and desolate as it had been the last time I’d been here. The sun beat down on a bleached landscape that was broken only by the occasional rock or tree.

“Do we have to walk?” I asked.

Daharan shook his head. “No, we are not souls that are supposed to be here. We can pass through without penalty.”

“Penalty from this world, maybe,” I said. “The Agency will probably have something else to say about that.”

“The Agency has become too narrow-minded and rigid in its focus,” Daharan said as we took to the air. Like Puck, he didn’t have visible wings, but glided along as easily as Superman.

We didn’t speak as we flew. Daharan didn’t seem like the type for casual chitchat, and I had a lot to contemplate. The existence of Lucifer’s parents had given rise to other questions, but I didn’t think Daharan would give me the answers. Where had the angels come from? Had they been created by Lucifer? By his parents? What did Puck mean when he said that Lucifer was the firstborn of his kind? What about humans? Were we some kind of grand experiment, or just an accident of chemistry and biology?

I guess these were the questions that most people had about their existence. But most people didn’t have access to the answers through their relation to some of the oldest creatures in the universe.

When Evangeline and I had crossed the desert, it had taken us less than a day on foot to find the portal. Daharan and I were flying, so I’d assumed it would take less time. But after a couple of hours we still hadn’t come across the place where I’d helped Evangeline’s soul cross over.

Everything in the desert sort of looked the same, so it was possible we were going in the wrong direction.

“Hey, shouldn’t we have found the portal by now?” I said to Daharan. “The one I used with Evangeline wasn’t that far away.”

Daharan shook his head. “That portal was only present by your will and Lucifer’s, a tool of the Hound of the Hunt. The real portal is much farther.”

“Right, because nothing can ever be simple or straightforward,” I said.

“Madeline,” Daharan said. “You need to stop thinking that the universe is tossing obstacles in your way for its own amusement. You are just a tiny thing in the grand scheme.”

“Well, nothing like having your uncle put you in your place and remind you how insignificant you are,” I muttered.

“You have a part to play,” he said calmly. “And it is an important one. But the gears of the galaxy are many, and they grind exceedingly small.”

“Does that mean I can take a break from saving the world, then?” I said.

“No, you may not,” Daharan said. “Unless you are willing to let the innocent die.”

“You know that I’m not going to let that happen.”

“Then this conversation is pointless,” Daharan said. He didn’t sound irritated, but there was a finality in the way he spoke that told me the subject was closed.

I was annoyed and I didn’t really know why. I’d resisted taking on this role. I didn’t want to be a hero, but I felt it had been thrust upon me over and over. I’d repeatedly said I just wanted an ordinary life, but that life had been sacrificed at the altar of the greater good. And because of that I’d gotten a little arrogant, I guess. I’d thought that I was important, that the world couldn’t do without me.

Now Daharan was telling me that I was just a little piece of a grand jigsaw. A very little piece. And that made me wonder whether all the sacrifice was worth it.

It’s worth it if you save one life, I thought. Hadn’t I said that to Nathaniel once? He’d questioned why I struggled, why I threw myself in front of the bus over and over for people who would never know or care about me. And I’d told him that it was worth it if I saved one person. No one deserved to be mowed down in the street just because they had gotten in the way of something huge and horrible and incomprehensible.

I sank into my own thoughts, brooding. I didn’t really pay attention to where we were going or how long it took. I just kept close to Daharan, who seemed to know what he was doing. So I was surprised when we suddenly started to descend.

I was equally surprised when I saw that the landscape had changed significantly. The parched desert was gone, replaced by lush and rolling hills dotted with trees and flowers. But I didn’t sense the presence of the portal.

“The portal isn’t here,” I said. “Why are we going down?”

“Do you not need to rest?” Daharan asked, but he avoided my eyes as he said it.

Daharan had been extremely straightforward in my dealings with him thus far. I had to wonder why he was keeping his gaze from mine. And if I should be worried that this was the double-cross I’d been half expecting ever since Daharan had agreed to help me.

“What’s down there?” I demanded, stopping in the sky.

Daharan paused, turned to face me. His eyes were sad, the fire in them banked. “Not what. Who.”

There could be only one person he meant.

“Is he here?” I said, my heart leaping with a joy that I hadn’t felt since the day I’d lost him.

Daharan nodded. “You have a short time. I will return for you.”

My whole being flooded with anticipation. I dropped to the ground as rapidly as I could, turning in a circle, looking for the one face that I’d been searching for ever since he’d been taken from me.

And he was there, coming to his feet beneath a tree, his expression a mixture of astonishment and wonder.

“Gabriel,” I breathed.

I ran to him, ran like I’d never run before, tears blinding me. I leapt into his arms and kissed him like I would never kiss him again. Because I wouldn’t. I knew that this was the last time, the last chance. And Daharan had given it to me.

“Madeline,” he said, over and over, his hands on my face, in my hair, like he couldn’t believe I was real.

Inside my belly, my son fluttered his happiness. He knew his father was near.

Gabriel sank to his knees, pushed my shirt up so my stomach was revealed. He put his hand there, and his head next to it, turning his ear to my skin.

A pulse of magic passed through his fingers and shot through me, into the place where our son was cradled. Incredibly, the baby gave a tiny little pulse back, his magic meeting Gabriel’s.

I looked at Gabriel in wonder and amazement, through eyes blurred by tears, and saw that he had the same expression on his face.

“How can he be so strong already?” I whispered.

“He is growing quickly,” Gabriel said. “You will show soon.”

He stood then, and gave me an assessing look. “You are not eating enough. You look pale. And thin.”

“Really?” I said, shaking my head at him. “We’re reunited after death, and you’re worried about how much I’m eating?”

He gave me a brief smile, his dark eyes dancing. “I’m sure I can think of something else to do, if you only have the time.”

“We have time for that,” I said, reaching for him, but he drew back. I stopped, confused. “What’s the problem?”

“Madeline, I do adore you, but . . . perhaps a bath is in order first?”

I looked down at my clothes, which were covered in dirt and sand and Cimice blood. My boots were coated in some unidentifiable goop. My hair felt greasy, and I probably smelled bad. But . . .

“Okay, you have a point,” I said. “But it’s not exactly tactful to point it out.”

“I would like to make love to my wife when she is not covered in bug organs,” Gabriel said, taking my hand and leading me to the sparkling lake.

“You’re so romantic. How can I resist?” I said.

The lake was so blue and perfect it didn’t seem real. The whole place seemed like a faerie illusion, something out of a dream. I put my sword on the ground and sat to pull off my boots. Even my socks were disgusting.

“The problem is,” I said as I undressed, “that once I’m clean, I’m going to have to put these yucky things back on again.”

Gabriel shook his head. “No, you will not. This place has a way of providing what is needed.”

I paused, still in my bra and underpants. “Why is it so different here, compared to the way it is where Evangeline was? And why are you the only one around?”

He looked thoughtful. “I think it is because we see what we expect to see.”

“So if you think you’re going to sit on white fluffy clouds and all your loved ones are going to be there, that’s what will happen?” I asked.

“I do not have all the answers,” Gabriel said. “I have never seen another soul in all my time spent here.”

“Isn’t that lonely?” I asked.

“Not right now,” he said, and his eyes were full of heat. “Madeline. Take the rest off.”

I felt suddenly shy with him looking at me like that. He was still clothed, and I was just about bare-assed naked with the sun shining down on me. But there was also longing, and need, and so my underthings fell to the ground. I stood before him, and he just looked. Heat spread over me, soft and languid.

“Gabriel,” I said, and it came out breathless.

He reached for me, took my hand, and led me to the lake. The water was warm as it lapped against my bare feet. I stepped in up to my ankles, and turned to him.

“You’re still wearing your clothes,” I said.

“I know,” he said, his hands going to the top button of his shirt. Even here, in the afterlife, he dressed like a young professional in a button-down and slacks. “Let me wash your hair.”

Just like that, there was shampoo and soap and soft towels on the bank of the lake. I waded in deeper, folding my wings against my back, ducking under the water, letting it run over my body. My shyness was diminishing rapidly. I felt so free and easy, naked in the water, with no one near to stumble upon us.

I kicked back to the surface and found Gabriel standing in the water up to his waist.

“Come here,” he said, and there was nothing else I could have done. I was drawn to him, the way I had been from the first moment I saw him.

I walked to him, aware of what was revealed as the water became shallower.

“Turn around,” he said, and I had the satisfaction of hearing the need in his voice.

I turned, conscious of my body and my power over him in a way I had never been before. He trailed one finger down the curve of my spine, stopping just before he went anyplace interesting. I shivered, and he gave a low chuckle.

Then his hands were in my hair, massaging through something that smelled sweet and herbal. He rinsed my hair clean, and then started on the rest of me. He took his time, and also took the time to touch and to kiss when he wanted, turning me in the water, building anticipation until I thought I would explode.

Then he lifted me to him, meteors shooting across the dark expanse of his eyes.

“I love you,” he said, and then he was inside me, taking my breath away.

His magic flowed through me, and mine through him. I could feel Gabriel in my blood and in my bones, in the very beat of my heart. I was a part of him, and he was a part of me, and it would be this way forever.

The tension between us rose, our magic and our bodies winding around each other until they reached a fever pitch, until the stars in his eyes and mine exploded and light poured from inside us.

After there were soft towels on the beach, and a blanket for us to lie upon in the sun. We faced each other on the blanket, lying on our sides, hands intertwined. It felt so good to let the sun dance over my bare skin, to feel happy and content for a change. I never wanted to leave.

Gabriel must have sensed the direction of my thoughts. He leaned toward me, kissed me once again, softly and gently. Then he said, “This cannot last. You cannot stay.”

My afterglow receded like a balloon that had been pierced by a pin. The grief was bubbling up again, the broken parts of my heart tearing anew.

“I know that,” I said.

“But you considered it,” Gabriel said.

I couldn’t lie to him, but I didn’t want to admit it, either. “Don’t you want me to stay with you?”

“You are not part of this world, Madeline,” Gabriel said. “You are not dead.”

I pulled away from him, and sat up, drawing my knees to my chest. “It’s only a matter of time.”

“Do not say that,” Gabriel said. “Do not make me think that you wish for this.”

“I’m so tired, Gabriel,” I said. “I’m tired of fighting, of trying to do the right thing over and over when no one else bothers to.”

“That is exactly why you must,” Gabriel said. “Who will stop those in power, those who would abuse it, if you are not there?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t know why it always has to be me. Surely there are others with powers like mine,” I said, coming to my feet.

I felt self-conscious again, and wished for something to cover my nakedness, to hide my vulnerability. As soon as the thought occurred to me, there was a neatly folded pile of clothing beside the blanket.

There was a set of plain cotton underwear in light blue, and a bra to match. The jeans and black T-shirt could have come from my own closet, and they were warm to the touch, like someone had just taken them from the dryer. There was even a pair of new boots, just like my old ones. The leather was stiff as I slid my foot inside. I had the brief but strange thought that magic shoes shouldn’t cause blisters. It seemed like that would violate some sacred law of the universe. I felt better once I was clothed, like I’d put my armor on. I slung my sword over my shoulder.

“There are others like you, but that does not mean they wish to expose themselves to harm,” Gabriel said, standing as well. His own clothes appeared and he silently began to dress.

“I didn’t wish to expose myself to harm, either,” I said angrily. “And I certainly don’t wish to expose our baby to harm. But you know that as soon as he’s born, every enemy Lucifer has ever made is going to come for him.”

Gabriel buttoned his shirt, his face brooding. He seemed to come to some kind of decision. “You should take your gargoyle’s advice, and go to Lord Lucifer. He would be able to keep the child safe.”

My mouth dropped open. “Are you crazy? Lucifer will take our child from me. He’ll mold him in his own image, make our son a monster. I could never go to Lucifer. And I don’t know how up on current events you are here in dreamland, but Evangeline is back and she’s pregnant. She’s going to see any child of mine as a threat to her progeny. The first thing she would do is try to strangle our baby in his crib.”

“I am well versed in current events,” Gabriel said. “I know everything that has happened to you since my death.”

He looked pointedly at my wings. Only then did it occur to me that he had never asked why my wings were silver instead of black, and why they were visible instead of hidden.

“Oh,” I said, feeling small. “So you know . . .”

“About Nathaniel, yes,” Gabriel said.

There was nothing to say to that. We stared at each other, the silence between us lengthening. What do you say to the man that you married about the new man in your life? The fact that Gabriel had died seemed hardly relevant now that I was facing him.

“Gabriel, I—” I began, but he cut me off.

“I cannot be angry with you,” he said. “I would like to. I would like to rage, to say you betrayed me. But you are alive, and so is he. And I am not. I cannot blame you for wanting comfort.”

My whole body was filled with pain, the pain that only love can bring. Not only was I standing here about to lose Gabriel again, but he knew that I had been with another man. I scrubbed my hands over my face, but nothing could stop the tears now.

“Madeline,” he said gently, and enfolded me in his embrace. I felt his love and his forgiveness flow over me, and I wept into his shoulder.

Gabriel, always so patient, so gentle, so understanding. A better human than I could ever be, and he had only the smallest drop of human blood in him. How could I do this again? How could I leave him?

He kissed my cheeks and my lips, kissed me until my crying ceased. We stood with our arms around each other, holding on, neither of us speaking. There was nothing left to say, and we both knew we didn’t have much time.

Then the voice I’d expected to hear was behind me.

“Madeline,” Daharan said.

I clung more tightly to Gabriel, breathing him in, wanting a few more moments, wanting to keep him with me forever.

He pulled away first, always the stronger one, always more practical than I.

“It is time,” he said.

I nodded. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t say good-bye.

“You must not return again,” Gabriel said, stroking his fingers over my cheek. “You must give up your dreams of death.”

“I don’t dream of death,” I said. “I dream of you.”

“Then you must let me go,” he said softly.

“I thought I did,” I said. “I tried to.”

“You must try harder,” he said. “When it is your time, I will be here.”

“And then we’ll have forever,” I said.

He smiled. “Yes.”

“Okay,” I said, backing away until I could no longer feel the warmth of his body against mine. “Okay.”

Gabriel didn’t say anything else. There was nothing else for us to say to each other.

I turned around and saw Daharan standing well away from us, giving us privacy in our good-byes. He could probably hear every word, but it was nice that he was willing to give us the illusion of being alone.

He rose into the air, beckoning me. I looked back one last time at Gabriel, and saw one tear on his cheek, glistening in the yellow sunlight. Gabriel never cried. That almost broke me, almost made me turn back, almost made me beg Daharan to leave me there.

Almost.

I knew that I didn’t belong in the land of the dead. I knew there was no one else to save my city except me. But as we flew away, it seemed that my body was rending in two, my heartbreak manifesting as physical pain. My breath was short; my chest hurt.

“Why did you take me there?” I asked Daharan. I think we were both surprised by the anger in my voice.

“I know Gabriel’s death was sudden, that you were unable to bid him good-bye. I believed it would give you peace if you were to do so.”

“All you did was rip the scab off a healing wound,” I said. Yes, I’d had time with Gabriel that I had not expected to ever have again. But it was almost worse now, knowing he was there and I was not, knowing that I had to leave him behind.

I was also more than a little conflicted by the discovery that he was watching over me like a guardian. I’d always thought his voice in my head was some figurative manifestation of my unconscious, not Gabriel actually talking to me from beyond the veil.

Part of me felt warm and comforted by the knowledge that he was making sure I was all right. But the other part of me felt like my privacy had been violated. How could I move on with my life, have a relationship with anyone else, knowing that Gabriel was watching me?

Of course, my illusions of privacy were probably just that. Daharan, Puck and Lucifer all seemed to have much more information about my daily doings than they ought to. Every second of my life was likely observed in somebody’s crystal ball.

It is very disheartening to think that your life is not your own. And my life had not been my own for a very long time now, no matter what notions I might have had otherwise.

Daharan and I did not speak again until we reached the portal. It was cut into the side of a tree, like a passage to another world in a fairy tale.

I turned to Daharan, trying to ignore the part of me that wanted to pick a fight with him. Daharan wasn’t really the type to rise to the bait.

“Will this bring me back to Chicago?” I asked.

Daharan nodded. “Not only to Chicago, but to your home, as long as you fix the place clearly in your mind before you go through.”

I took a deep breath, stepped forward. “See you on the other side, then.”

I disappeared into the tree before Daharan had a chance to say or do anything. This portal experience was more like the usual for me. My head felt like it was being smashed between two cast-iron pans.

I burst out of the portal and immediately fell onto the sidewalk, rolling to a stop on my side. I breathed in the smell of the city, that indefinable mixture of cooking food, car exhaust and . . . smoke?

Daharan came through the portal, materializing like a shimmering ghost, already on his feet. I sat up slowly, looking around. At first I didn’t realize where I was. Then I became aware of three things.

The first was that it was much, much warmer than it had been when I left Nathaniel. The trees on the street had leaves, and flowers had blossomed in front yards. The air had the scent of spring.

Second, my belly seemed to have grown exponentially while I passed through the portal. The minuscule bulge below my belly button had become a legitimate roundness. I could feel the heft and weight of my child in there, no longer just a tiny flutter. He was pushing and rolling inside me.

Third, I was standing on my street, in front of my house. Except that my house was no longer there.