03 Before The Devil Knows You're Dead-Speak Of The Devil Page 12

  “Which is why old-school doctors and nurses used to open windows when a patient died,” Harold said. “My father and my grandfather both did it. Every time a person would die, they would open a window so the soul wouldn’t get trapped inside the room. So they could find their way back to God is what my grandfather always used to say, but that’s a stupid superstition.”

  “Every superstition has some basis in fact,” J said. “It may be a distorted view that’s used to explain the world around us but it’s tied to the truth in some way, shape, or form.”

  “So what you’re saying is that the only reason she is here and not trapped in Hell—or somewhere worse—is because there’s no way for her to get out?” Matt asked.

  “Exactly,” Jesus said.

  “Well that’s great.” Matt glared at the other man. “So we know how she got up there, but that doesn’t tell me how we go about getting her back in her own body.”

  “We give her soul something to tether onto,” Malachi said. “We give her some reason to fight to stay alive. Then, under no conditions, do we open any of the windows or the doors in your apartment until we’re sure she’s back in her body and firmly strapped back into the controls.”

  “Easy enough. She needs something to fight for? I can give her that.” Matt lifted my limp form further into his lap so that my head lolled back on his shoulders. He grabbed my chin and lifted my head so that he would have been looking in my eyes and I felt my heart pick up.

  “I refuse to spend the rest of eternity without you.” He shook my chin lightly. “Not when I just got you back on the same page with me again. I love you too much to give you up now. So let’s hope that this doesn’t vaporize me.”

  He pressed his lips to mine and the world dissolved into a cold, black nothingness around me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  They say that when you die your life is supposed to flash before your eyes. I can tell you, without a doubt, that doesn’t happen. When Michael killed me, I sort of wanted to see a highlights reel, but instead all I could think was well damn this is sort of anticlimactic. So no This Was Your Life Faith Bettincourt for me when I died, but being forcibly sucked back into your own body? That could have been produced by HBO in super high-definition and surround sound and all those other fancy technical sort of television terms.

  The room went dark and all I could see was Matt. This great, beautiful glowing light that radiated around me and it was all Matt. Matt asleep on Sunday mornings. Matt reading the newspaper on my couch. Matt singing off-key in the shower. Matt trying to decide between the regular Twinkies and the chocolate-filled ones before buying both when we went to the grocery store.

  My entire world had been compressed to the feel of his lips against mine and as the universe exploded around me I realized that every single molecule of it that mattered to me was Matt. He wasn’t the sun in the middle of my solar system; he was my equivalent of this galaxy and all the others we haven’t found yet. He was absolutely everything.

  Then the heat receded and I could feel my limbs again even though—Alpha help me—I really didn’t want to. I let my eyes slide open and looked up into Matt’s face. His skin was a pale white and his eyes were red-rimmed, like he was trying to hold back his tears.

  “Hey,” I said, wincing at the way the muscles in my throat contracted from the pain of being used again after they’d decided to retire permanently.

  “Hey.” He sighed and let his forehead drop against mine so that we were pressed together as he tightened his arms.

  “Um.” I shifted slightly so that I could snuggle into his chest and stifled a groan, trying not to let him see how much of an issue I was going to have with moving. “Thanks for, well you know, kissing me to save my life and all, but aren’t you supposed to be not touching me?”

  “Thanks for coming back to life.” He tightened his grip on me again, his eyes closed.

  J touched my arm gently. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded and tried not to grimace. “I mean for just having the life sucked out of me by an archangel and almost getting trapped in the ceiling fan, I’m doing great. But I am wondering how everyone can manhandle me right now without consequences.”

  He swallowed and let go of my shoulder. “As far as touching you is concerned, I think whatever Michael did somehow knocked something loose. The job passes to the next angel when you die. You’ve died so…”

  “Faith.” My father was staring down at me, his shoulders slumped forward.

  “Daddy.” I struggled to stand up and, instead of watching me fight to get to my feet, Matt stood, lifting me up at the same time, and passed me over to my father.

  I wrapped my arms around Dad’s neck and squeezed. I felt a second pair of arms go around me from behind and Malachi’s dark head burrowed into the side of my neck. I didn’t want to say anything but I was pretty sure that my father was trying not to cry. Not that he’d admit to it or anything.

  “I’m so sorry,” Malachi said, his voice cracking, “I’m so, so sorry. I should have been here.”

  “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.” I tightened my grip on Dad’s neck and tried not to freak out seeing the two scariest guys I knew acting so vulnerable.

  “We should have known,” the Alpha said, and I glanced over my shoulder to see him standing at the far side of the room, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “We should have recognized Michael’s instability and his unhealthy fixation on the Angel of Death’s position. We should have known he would be dangerous. That he’d attack you this way. We should have had safe guards in place.”

  Malachi pulled away from me, running a hand up to wipe at his eyes. “I should have been here but I wanted to try one last time to make the original Death see reason and I shouldn’t have gone. I should have sent a minion to negotiate with him and stayed here to protect you.”

  “I should have called someone when I went out so Faith wouldn’t have been alone,” Matt said.

  “Or I could have gone out for the pizza instead,” Tolliver said, bracing himself in the corner of the room, his face white, staring at me like I was some sort of newly risen ghost. Which, well I guess that might have been appropriate, but it felt creepy.

  I hadn’t actually died, I’d just been jostled from my human form, the soul’s equivalent of falling off a cliff in a dream and waking up disoriented for a few brief seconds. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best analogy but it sure beat “oh crap you came back from the dead like some sort of demon zombie.”

  “What should I have done?” I looked first at my brother and then at Matt, trying to give them my best bitch glare even though the muscles in my face felt like they’d been stomped on by Leviathan and a whole host of wrecker demons. “Should I have sat here and darned someone’s socks? Because I’ve got to tell you, I don’t know how to darn socks. I don’t even know if people darn socks anymore. Socks aren’t that expensive, and isn’t it easier to go buy new socks? Or not wear them. Personally, I only wear socks when I’m on duty at the hospital. Otherwise I skip them because they make my toes feel weird.”

  “O-kay, we won’t make you wear socks anymore.” J shook his head and his hand twitched like he was trying to keep himself from checking my forehead for a fever.

  “I’m not talking about socks,” I said. “Well I am, but I meant it as a metaphor. The socks were meant to illustrate a point. I’m a grown woman, a demon in my own right. Okay, not a very powerful demon, but I am a demon complete with wings and a tail and horns. I can take care of myself. I don’t need a bunch of guys standing around, waiting to protect me. I can protect myself.”

  “Says the woman we just had to bring back to life,” Dad said. “Or did you forget about the whole getting trapped next to the light fixture and playing charades moment you had less than five minutes ago?”

  “Of course I didn’t forget it. I was the one who died after all.” I pulled back from him and crossed my arms over my chest.

  The
room went completely silent as everyone stared at me.

  “All right?” I threw my hands up in the air in front of me and stepped back from all of them. “I died. I made a mistake, and I died because of it. Stupid me. I should have gone with my first instinct not to trust Michael but he caught me at a weak moment and I got too close and once he had his hands on me I was done for.”

  “You can’t blame yourself for this,” J said. “Michael is smart and he’s tricky.”

  “Yeah, well, if Matt wouldn’t have come in when he did, I’d have faded more and then the moment he opened the door later out I’d have gone—a one-way express ticket to Hell and I get that. I do. That doesn’t mean you can keep me locked in a tower for the rest of my life.”

  “You said you made a mistake trusting Michael,” the Alpha said and let the silence stretch around us. “You let him in, didn’t you?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “He waited for Matt to leave and then he did his whole appearing before a person schtick.”

  “Then what—” Matt started.

  “He wanted my powers,” I said slowly. “He’d asked for them before and I’d said no but he came back tonight to try to convince me. He tried everything. He tempted me, offered me the chance at everything I wanted, and I was right there with him. I was so tempted, Matt. I wanted to give it to him but there was this part of me that knew it was wrong.”

  “You what?” Dad yelled. “You wanted to give him your powers? Why? What sort of idiotic—”

  “Yes, I wanted to give the Archangel Michael my powers,” I said, my voice trembling. “I wanted to let him have them and walk away so that I could have a normal life. So that I could have Matt.”

  “Oh, shit,” Tolliver said.

  “What were you thinking? How could you have been tempted by such a thing?” Malachi asked.

  “What does it matter? I didn’t give them over. I resisted. No matter how much I wanted to be free, I said no.”

  “I think everyone is trying to understand why,” J said. “Why would you have even considered something so drastic? Why let him in here at all? Why let him close enough to hurt you? We want to understand what you were thinking that let him catch you so off guard. The temptation was enough to give him a hold over you.”

  “I was thinking that I was going to have to live for the next eighty years without the ability to touch anyone. I’d have been completely alone, trapped on the outside of life. Looking in, waiting for people to die. I’d have been alone, watching the world pass me by for the next eighty years. That’s what I was thinking. That’s why I was vulnerable. I was looking at the next century alone and I was scared.”

  “You had me,” Matt said, his eyes were filled with hurt.

  “That’s why I wanted to give him my powers. So I could have a life with you—a real one—one where you didn’t stay with me out of pity because of what I’d become.” I touched my fingers to his, and he pulled away from me. “I wanted the chance for a life with you but I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t. I knew he was evil and if he was offering me everything I wanted, then it was because he wanted to do something horrible.”

  “I’ve never.” Matt grimaced. “I’ve never, for one single second, pitied you, and I never would have. You’d know that, too, if just once you believed in me as much as I believe in you.” He turned on his heel and started toward the door.

  “Matt—”

  “I would have never pitied you.” He shook his head.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry I was tempted but I wanted the chance of a normal life with you—”

  “I didn’t want normal for God’s sake! I wanted you. Every single contrary, demonic part of you. Don’t you get that?”

  “You have me!”

  “No, I don’t. The you I fell in love with wouldn’t have been so blind. The demoness I fell in love with wouldn’t have even thought about risking her life for something as boring as being normal. She’d have trusted me enough to be strong and not let some angel play her for a fool. She would have banished him the minute he showed up instead of letting him get close enough to hurt her. But what am I saying? You’re not even a demon anymore.”

  “What do you mean, I’m no longer a demon?” I stared at my father but he wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  “What does he mean I’m no longer a demon?” I repeated, louder this time.

  “You can’t lose a part of your power. It’s an all-or-nothing sort of deal,” Malachi whispered. “You don’t get to pick and choose what you like and what you don’t. I’ll have immortality with a side dish of wings and tail but hold the psychic powers? It doesn’t work that way.”

  “Valentin—”

  “Destroyed his mortal body and is now trapped in Heaven. Every single bit of his power transferred to you when you became the Angel of Death,” Jesus said.

  “Wouldn’t I have felt—”

  “Valentin was a third-tier cherubim,” Malachi said quickly. “In power terms, he was the equivalent of one of those electric Christmas candles you see in everyone’s windows each December. You absorbed his powers and probably never would have noticed.”

  “What about the”—I stopped and then looked over at my uncle—“angel stuff. I didn’t feel any of that.”

  “What angel stuff?” the Alpha asked. “Kindness? Love? The ability to nurture others? Ethics? A love of your fellow man?”

  “It sounds stupid when you put it like that.” I shoved my shaking hands in the pockets of my jeans and tried to stay calm, even though I was two seconds away from having a Roisin-style panic attack, complete with fainting and hysterics. Because, right now, hysterics sounded like the best idea I’d heard all week.

  “Of course I feel all those things—I’m part human, aren’t I? I thought there would be some sort of super-secret angel stuff that would suddenly happen. Like an incubi’s ability to always find high quality porn on pay-per-view.”

  “I never saw a need for that particular skill amongst my minions,” the Alpha said. “That doesn’t change the fact that when Valentin gave you his powers and left the mortal realm he gave you all of his powers. Not only the power of life and death.”

  “So when Michael stole my powers…”

  “He stole all of your powers,” Dad said, his voice grim.

  “I couldn’t have given him everything.” I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the black power that lived at the base of my skull. Nothing. I shifted my focus and tried to unfold my wings. The urge was there but it felt like there was nothing to push against. No outlet for my energy to move into. It was like there weren’t actually wings in my back anymore.

  Uh-oh. I brought my hands up to pat my scalp and carefully probed at the tiny indentations where my horns normally hid. Nothing. The skin was smooth and flat. No bumps. No horns.

  J took my hand in his and flipped it over so it was palm up, before he ran a shard of broken glass from one of the beer bottles over my palm. I felt a sharp sting and then a thin line of red welled up along the length of my palm. More blood pooled in my hand and I waited for the cut to heal itself. Blood started to drip on the carpet and I looked up to see J staring at me, his eyes wide.

  “Here.” Malachi pulled my hand away from J and a flood of warmth poured into my palm as Mal focused his energy on healing me.

  My father was staring at me, his eyes wide. “You’re mortal now. I can’t protect you unless I lock you in Purgatory or Hell and there’s a chance that once you’re there I won’t be able to let you out.”

  “Mom goes back and forth all the time and she’s mortal.”

  “She never went into the Celestial realms until after Hope was born. Bearing demonic children causes you to have a sort of immunity to having your physical body eaten by the dogs while the imps start arguing over the best way to prepare your soul for dinner.”

  “So, since I don’t have any sort of immunity now…”

  “There’s a chance they might barbecue you. I can’t keep you safe there. You
r best bet is here with Mal and the others.”

  “I’ll find a way to fix it. I promise you, I’ll find something.”

  “How?” he asked, his voice bitter with resignation. “How are you, a mortal woman, going to fix this?”

  “I don’t know, but I will. I’ll fix this.”

  “The first thing you’re going to have to do is find a way to get your powers back from Michael,” J said.

  “How am I going to convince him to give them back? I don’t think I’m going to be able to say pretty please and hope he’s feeling generous.”

  “No.” Tolliver’s mouth was set in a grim line. “You and I are going to find him and when we do, we’re going to take your powers back from him by force.”

  “I’m going with you,” Malachi said. “If he puts up much of a fight—and he will—you’re going to need more than Tolliver by your side. You’re going to need at least one person who actually knows how to fight.”

  “I’ll go get Matt and we’ll summon Harold. Then we’ll meet you and help hunt for Michael,” J said from behind me, his voice hard as steel.

  “J.” My heart clenched. “There’s a chance this could get violent.”

  “I know.” He nodded, his jaw tight. “It doesn’t matter. You’re my family and you know what I’ve learned in two thousand plus years rambling around in this realm?”

  “What?”

  “Family’s worth fighting for.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “What do we do?” Matt asked a few hours later as we held each other, alone in the dark, unsure what we should say.

  He’d stayed, even after everyone else had left, and we’d just held each other since then, not speaking. We just clung to each other, trying to figure out what we were supposed to say. What we could say that would make it better.

  “I don’t know.” I tangled my fingers with his. “I don’t know what to do.”