DARK SOULS (Angels and Demons Book 2) (10 page)

Dylan was still pacing when Rachel came into the room. She paused, watching her come toward her with a little hesitation in her step.

“Raphael?”

Dylan shrugged. “It was a surprise to me, too.”

Rachel held up her arms and offered Dylan a hug. It was nice, something normal with one member of her family.

“How’s Wyatt?” Rachel asked as she pulled back.

“He was fine the last time I saw him.”

“When was that?”

Dylan curled up in a chair, tucking her legs underneath her. “It’s been almost a week, I think.”

“You think?”

“He’s busy in the capital, and I’ve been chasing these demons.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like the two of you to avoid each other. Is there something going on?” Rachel sat in a chair beside Dylan and took her hand, rubbing it between both of hers. “Is everything okay?”

Dylan looked at her, not seeing a mature woman sitting beside her, but instead the child she’d pulled out of time forty years ago. The sight of her hiding in that cabinet, and then of her in Jimmy’s arms, was one she would not soon forget. It had been the first time she’d seen such affection in Wyatt’s father, the first time she realized that there was more to him—to all humanity—than what met the eye.

She leaned over and kissed her cheek lightly. “Don’t worry about Wyatt and me. We’re fine.”

Rachel nodded. “I’ve heard rumblings. We have people pass through here from the cities up north, and some of them have been talking about the council’s attempt to rid the world of angels.”

Dylan groaned as she settled back against her chair, her head resting on the soft upholstery. “It’s not a rumor. They want Stiles and I to disappear so they can prove they can stand on their own two feet.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Yes, well, they think they can stop another angel war if they show us they don’t need us.”

“But we do need you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know how much help I’ve been so far. I still can’t figure out how to stop these things.”

“You will. You just have to stop pushing yourself so hard.” Rachel stood up and held out her hand. “And the first thing you should do is get some sleep.”

Dylan took her hand and allowed Rachel to lead her out of her office and to a bedroom at the back of the building. Dylan hadn’t realized quite how exhausted she was until she saw the bed. Rachel helped her into bed, tucking her in as if she was a child in the dorms again. Dylan curled up and was asleep in seconds. But it wasn’t to be a restful sleep.

The dreams began almost as soon as Dylan closed her eyes, people calling to her for help. So many people, thousands of voices, asking for everything from help with their children to more rain for their crops to protection from the demons. Dylan couldn’t block them out; she could not make the screams stop. One, the image of a young girl being ripped to pieces by the demons, finally woke her.

She sat up in the darkness of an unfamiliar room. She reached for Wyatt before she remembered that he wasn’t there. It came to her quickly then, everything that had happened over the last week. She slowly climbed out of the bed, tugging on her pants and shirt, aware that she wouldn’t be able to sleep now. A walk in the cool, pre-dawn air seemed like a suitable alternative.

The streets were silent, but there were crickets and cicadas and a multitude of nocturnal animals making themselves known in one way or another. Whenever she was outside like this it reminded her of the war, of the many nights she and Wyatt and Stiles had spent sleeping out under the stars. Despite everything that was happening then, it seemed like a more innocent time. It was before she and Wyatt had found each other, back when he had a flirtation with Ellie. And then there was Stiles. She could never figure out exactly what it was he wanted from her. He was always there, always protecting her, always giving her the information she needed right when she needed it. But he never made any overtures of romance with her.

Well, there was that one kiss. She’d never told Wyatt about it; she’d never seen the point. It was one kiss while she and Wyatt were…she wasn’t sure what they were then. It was just before Ellie had turned on them, and just before Wyatt had finally seen what she really was, or at least what she had been at that moment. But no one is ever really one thing. Ellie had ended up giving her life for Dylan’s. It was ironic, really. Dylan often wondered what would have happened if Ellie had lived, if she hadn’t handed them over to Davida the way she did. Would she and Wyatt have been together? Would he always have chosen Dylan?

It was a stupid thing to wonder. They had been soul mates. He could heal her in a way no one else could, he could make her feel things no one else could. It wouldn’t have been the same with him and Ellie. She wasn’t even sure he was ever really into Ellie. She sometimes thought he turned to Ellie to make her jealous. And it had worked. She’d done the same with Sam, turning to him to make Wyatt jealous. And she’d regretted it. Sam had died because of her. She would never forgive herself for that.

There were regrets. When she thought about the past, she felt so many regrets. But when she analyzed everything she’d done back then, she couldn’t imagine how it could have gone any differently. Everything she’d done, everything the people around her had done, it all came together to create what they had now. How could she regret that?

“Regrets are a waste of time.”

Dylan jumped—unaware that Raphael had joined her.

“You heard my thoughts.”

“They are quite intense.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re deeply troubled.”

Dylan laughed a humorless laugh. “That’s true.”

Raphael looked at her, curiosity in his expression. “Why are you so troubled?”

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to get rid of these demons, how to protect these people.”

“It’s inside of you,” Raphael said. “You just have to find it.”

“Gee, thanks…that’s helpful.”

“You are the savior, Dylan. You have gifts that the rest of us just dream of having.”

“Do I? Then why am I struggling? Why don’t I feel like a savior?”

“You have many questions. You should ask the Father.”

“How do I do that?”

“You travel to heaven.”

Dylan nodded slowly and deliberately. “Yeah, that’s on my to-do list.”

Raphael tilted his head. “That is sarcasm, right? Don’t you know how to go to heaven?”

“I’m not exactly your everyday angel.”

“No. You’re better. It should be easy for you to do whatever you want to do. Doesn’t Stiles take you?”

“His connection to heaven has been restricted.”

“I can show you.” Raphael took her hand. “I can show you how easy it is to go back.”

“I’ve never been.”

Sadness came into Raphael’s eyes. “No wonder you are so confused. An archangel needs that connection with heaven.”

“You were here before, right?”

“Yes, I was—for several generations.”

“What was it like?”

Raphael looked around the town, at the park they were standing near, and the buildings that hunkered down around them. “It was not unlike this. Newer and more primitive, but there was a sense of community. The people were always helping each other, so grateful to have what they had and to share what was needed by their neighbors.”

“Why did you leave?”

“I angered God. I took a human wife.”

Dylan nodded, remembering what Stiles had told her about her biological father, Jack James. “You had children.”

“Three big, strong sons,” he said with a great deal of pride.

“I thought archangels were not supposed to be prideful.”

Raphael shrugged. “We aren’t. But sometimes it is hard to avoid the emotions these bodies feel. You feel this pride for your child, do you not?”

“Of course. She is the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Raphael nodded, squeezing her hand lightly. “Exactly. It is the nature of these bodies to want to procreate.”

“But it isn’t the nature of an angel?”

“It is not our place to make more angels. That is up to the Father. Which is the conundrum for those of us who inhabit two life forms, is it not?”

Dylan nodded. “It’s not like this in heaven? We don’t feel this emotion?”

“There is emotion. But it is different up there.”

They walked for a few minutes in silence as Dylan thought about what he’d said. There was so much she didn’t know about being an angel. Her experiences were not conventional. She wasn’t a part of the same hierarchy as Raphael and Stiles; she had never done the things they’d done. All she knew was what she had learned during the war.

“Archangels like us—even with the emotion that comes with these bodies—we have to remember what is right and wrong, what our purpose is, and how to achieve that purpose. It was that sin I’d committed when I was here before. I did not keep my attention where it had belonged.”

“How do you do that?”

“Sticking with your soul mate—your angelic soul mate—is a good start.”

Dylan smiled softly. “You’ve been talking to Stiles.”

“Yes. But it’s not just that. We have a connection.”

“Because I’m your descendant?”

“Not just that. Because we are archangels.”

“You keep calling me that. But aren’t archangels a special type of angel?”

“Yes. We are heaven’s protectors. We were created to protect heaven from threats. And when Adam and Eve fell to Earth, the Father expanded our purpose to include protecting them.”

“But not all angels are archangels.”

“No. There are many classifications of angels. The archangels, like myself and Lucifer, we have added powers that most of the other angels do not have.”

“Like?”

Raphael shrugged. “Our lack of freewill allows a little more leeway than others. We can create fire with the tips of our fingers, and we can control certain aspects of the weather, and move humans with the flick of our fingers. There are many things we can do that you likely have not seen because of the elixir Lily had Lucifer’s army drink.”

“And Stiles? Is he an archangel?”

“No. Stiles is a lesser an angel…at least, he was.”

“What do you mean?”

Raphael stopped walking, tugging on Dylan’s hand until she stopped too, and turned to face him.

“Stiles was our knowledge. He learned all he could about the humans, the Earth, and everything about our history. He helped us with our purpose; he helped us figure out how to help the humans. But then he fell and everything changed. He changed everything.”

“He said that Joanna had changed things when she fell.”

Raphael shook his head. “Joanna was supposed to fall. She was supposed to stop Lucifer. But then Stiles fell, and things changed. Joanna changed. She had the object necessary to stop everything, but the moment Stiles fell, she chose not to use it.”

“Object? I don’t understand.”

“It’s difficult to explain. I’m not even sure I could describe it in human terms. But it would have changed everything if she had used it.”

An image of Joanna filled Dylan’s mind. There was something…a box. But then the image faded.

“And Stiles. How is he still here? How did he become my guardian if he’s not an archangel?”

“You chose him.”

Dylan started to shake her head; to deny what she knew was true. But she
had
chosen him. She’d gone back in time and told him he was destined to watch over her, to keep her safe from Luc and Lily until she was old enough to face the truth of who she was. But was that really her choosing him, or was it her telling him what, for her, had already happened?

It was all beginning to get too confusing, the lines between what she knew and what she was still struggling to understand were blurring to such a point that she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to truly straighten it all out in her head. But the one thing that was clear to her was that everything seemed to come back to her—to her choices.

And it all began long before she was born. Not only that, but Stiles was somehow stuck in the middle of it all. It was his decision to come to Earth for Joanna that had been the catalyst…but the catalyst for what? For Dylan’s birth? For the tide of the war to change? For the change in Joanna had that shifted the power to the angels? And how did that happen? Why did Joanna switch sides? Did it have to do with freewill? Or was it more than that?

“Are you ready?” Raphael asked.

His voice brought Dylan back into the moment. “Ready?”

“Ready to go to heaven?”

Raphael took both of Dylan’s hands and she instantly found herself wrapped in the protective light of his aura. It wasn’t even a moment later, and she was standing in a beautiful place, almost like the garden she remembered visiting in her dreams, but it wasn’t a garden. It was something different, a place that was not made of solid objects, but happy emotions that made her soul want to sing.

It was indescribable, this place. She could feel others around her—feel their curiosity—but she couldn’t see them. She felt Raphael, too, and the pleasure the others felt at having him back in their presence. There were no voices, no sound, but she heard them speak just the same. After a moment, she realized that some of the voices were familiar. There were people here she knew, people she loved and who loved her back.

A woman who knew Davida wrapped herself around Dylan and thanked her for loving Davida as she had. Someone else brushed against Dylan and spoke for Ellie. She was sad that Ellie had made bad choices, but grateful for Dylan’s love and that she had wanted to heal Ellie before she died—that she finally saw the good there had been in Ellie’s heart. And there were others—so many that Dylan could hardly keep them separate from one another—all these souls expressing gratitude and love. Dylan was overwhelmed, unsure she deserved all that she was given.

“Come,” Raphael said, pulling Dylan away to another part of this place even as more voices joined the chorus as they praised Dylan for the good she’d done for humanity.

They moved into another place—Dylan might have called it a room if it’d had four walls and a door, but it didn’t—and the voices were silenced. If Dylan had a body, she would have sunk down into a chair.

“That was amazing. Why were they saying those things to me?”

“You are quite the celebrity up here, Dylan. You are something these souls have never seen and that is saying a lot, since most of them have been around since the beginning of time and they have seen everything.”

“But I’m not. You keep calling me a savior and an archangel, but I’m not those things.”

“You are.”

Dylan turned and Rebecca, nothing more than a puff a smoke in the shape of her dear friend, smiled as she reached out a hand.

Dylan rushed to her and somehow they were able to embrace, or maybe it was just a mingling of their souls. Either way, it was better than everything Dylan had felt in the previous room.

“You’re okay,” Dylan said, stepping back. “We miss you so much.”

Rebecca’s smile weakened slightly. “I’ve been watching. Harry’s doing so well. And my other children…”

“Yes, your death was hard on them, especially Harry, but they’re adjusting.”

“Harry blamed Stiles.”

Dylan started to agree, but then there was a change in the light around Rebecca. Her smile completely disappeared and she moved closer to Dylan.

“Stiles has struggled,” she said softly. “He is so filled with regrets that they color everything he sees, everything he does. He needs you to help him move past the things he’s done and help him look to the future, the future you both will build.”

“Rebecca…”

“You are my sister,” Rebecca said, her aura touching Dylan’s again. “I trust you to do what I no longer can.”

“You know,” Dylan said, feeling something of a weight falling from her soul.

“I know everything, now.” Rebecca smiled again, her glow turning a bright, beautiful pink. “I understand why Stiles did the things he did. I understand why things happened the way they did. They were all leading up to what comes next.”

“And what’s that?”

“You,” she said softly, her tone colored with awe. “You are the savior, the one who will watch over all of humanity and keep them safe from whatever poses a danger, even they themselves.”

Dylan began to object, but Rebecca stopped her with nothing more than the weight of her thoughts. And in them, Dylan heard things she couldn’t, or didn’t want, to understand. There were visions, too, visions of a future Dylan had glimpsed once and had tried to ignore. She wasn’t ready for the things Rebecca was telling her. But in them, there was a hint to what she had to do to stop the demons.

She saw it. A new power she’d never thought she was capable of. But it was still beyond her grasp, it was beyond everything she was ready to accept. It was beyond her because it required her to give up what she held most dear.

Wyatt.

Dylan pulled away from Rebecca’s touch.

“I can’t,” she whispered.

“You can.” Rebecca came to her and touched her again, but the weight of those thoughts was gone. Instead, all she felt was all the love and concern Rebecca felt for her. “I once thought I couldn’t survive without my father and that I wouldn’t want to live without Stiles. But I lost them both and I survived.”

“But you found Stiles again. Once I let Wyatt go, that’ll be the end of it.”

“But you forget that you still have a piece of him in Josephine and in Josephine’s descendants. As long as they live, he lives, too.”

“It’s not the same.”

“No. But you had something that very few have ever experienced. You had a true soul mate. And it wasn’t just because of your angel nature. It was a true love match. Nothing will ever take that from you, but its usefulness in your life has ended. Wyatt is mortal and his time on Earth is coming to an end.”

Dylan shook her head. If she’d been in her human form, tears would have fallen from her eyes. Even as she denied Wyatt’s mortality, she remembered the feel of the cancer she took from his belly. She knew it would be back—knew it would end his life eventually. But she couldn’t bear the idea of living in a world in which Wyatt did not exist.

“Just as Stiles let me go, you have to let Wyatt go. He keeps you grounded to humanity, and that was necessary for a time. But now you must evolve beyond that life. You must accept that you are more than human, more than a wife and a mother. You have a destiny that will not be denied.”

Raphael moved close again, the sensation of his soul mixing with Dylan’s alerted her that it was time to return to Earth. Dylan reached for Rebecca in her smoky form. They touched for a moment and the power of the three of them connected sent a jolt of electricity through Dylan, a jolt that was infused with things she couldn’t even begin to explain—love, power, acceptance, strength, courage—so many things—it was like a shot of adrenaline might feel in a human body. Then it was all gone and Dylan was standing in the middle of the street of Dytonia once again.

She saw Raphael’s face, a warm, but concerned smile on his lips, and then she sank to the ground, unconscious.