End of Days (Penryn & the End of Days, #3)

by Susan Ee

Strangely, it’s Beliel who keeps pulling at my attention, though. There’s something about him in chains that keeps catching my eye. Something familiar. I shake it off. I must be on the verge of hallucinating from exhaustion.

In the thunderstorm, Raffe glides down, brushing hands with a few of the newly Fallen as he heads toward the earth below. I see their faces as Raffe touches hands with them. This group of Fallen must be the Watchers—the elite group of angel warriors who fell for loving Daughters of Men.

“What are you wearing?” He scans over my outfit. I was so comfortable that I’d forgotten I’m wearing the cropped T-shirt and stretchy shorts. I glance down at myself, wondering if I should be self-conscious. I’m reasonably covered except for my midriff, and I guess I’m showing more of my legs than usual. “This coming from a guy who runs around shirtless all the time?” Of course, I kind of like him shirtless and showing off his six-pack abs, but I don’t mention that.

“If you’re worried about pervs breaking into the house, it’s not going to make a difference whether I’m in this outfit or in baggy jeans and a sweatshirt. Either they’re decent human beings or they’re not. Their actions are on them.”

“Since when did you become so protective?” “Since my enemies have determined that you’re my Daughter of Man.”

Besides, you’re an angel killer now, for which the penalty is an automatic death sentence. You’re quite the popular girl.”

He’s totally asleep while I’m hyperaware of him lying beside me in bed. What’s up with that? Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?

The second my thigh touches his, he moans and shifts, throwing his arm around me. He pulls me back toward his hard body.

How can the world end in a giant fury of biblical proportions yet still leave room for embarrassment?

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” he rasps. “You think you’re so special. Special enough to catch an archangel’s love.” He makes a dry, rattling noise that I think must be a laugh. “Do you know how many people have thought they could win his love over the centuries? That he’d be loyal to them just as they were loyal to him?”

“Are you really afraid of me harming you?” he asks. “Or maybe you just don’t want to know the truth about your precious archangel? He’s not what he seems. He’s a liar and a betrayer, and I can prove it. The sword won’t let me lie—it doesn’t pass on pretty words. Just memories.”

These are not the screams of an angry man. These are the nightmare screams of someone having his soul torn to pieces right in front of him.

He cocks his head at me. “What makes you think I was worried it had to do with me?” Oops. Did he ever mention hellions to me? Or do I know he worries about them coming after me because I peeked into his memories through Pooky Bear? I could lie, but . . . I sigh. We all have to accept our faults eventually. And mine is that I’m a terrible liar.

His hand is gentle as he wipes antibacterial lotion on the cuts. “You need to be careful. The hellions are going to be everywhere you are from now on.” “What do you care? You’ll be out of my life the second you get your wings back. You’ve made that pretty clear.” He takes a deep breath. He presses a gauze pad on my shoulder. I wince. He gently strokes my arm. “I wish it could be different,” he says, taping up the gauze. “But it’s not. I have my own people. I have responsibilities. I can’t just—” “Stop.” I shake my head. “I get it. You’re right. You have your life. I have mine. I don’t need to be with someone who doesn’t . . .” Want me. Love me.

He’s made it pretty clear how he feels about me—about us—and the fact that there is no us.

Angel Island must be some kind of hellion convention center. Either that or these new hellions are far too good at organizing.

He looks down at me with sincere eyes. “If I were human, I would have been the first in line for you . . .” He looks away. “But I’m not. I’m an archangel, and my people are in trouble. I have no choice but to try to set things straight. I can’t get distracted by a Daughter of Man.” He nods a little to himself. “I can’t.”

“Just this once,” he says almost more to himself than to me. “Just one moment.” Then he leans down and kisses me. It’s the kind of kiss that I’ve been dying for since I was born. His lips are supple, his touch tender. He strokes my hair gently. He licks my lips—a probing, wet glide—then touches my tongue with his. Electric sensations zip from the tip of my tongue down to my toes and back again.

There’s a mix of longing and sadness in his eyes, but he’s not letting me get any closer. Seeing that brings me back to myself. Back to the here and now. The invasion. My mom. My sister. The massacres. They all come rushing back. He’s right. We’re at war. On the verge of an apocalypse filled with monsters and torture in a nightmare world. And I’m standing here, a moonstruck teenager pining for an enemy soldier. What am I, crazy? This time, I’m the first to turn away.

Sometimes, I feel like my whole life is lived in this twilight space between sunshine and darkness.

But I realize now that the toughest choices, the ones that will haunt us for the rest of our lives, are ones that my mom is still sheltering me from.

But Raffe has made it all too clear that this—whatever this is that we may or may not have between us—is a nonstarter. He’s made it clear that he’s leaving. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that trying to make someone stay with you when he doesn’t want to is a recipe for heartbreak. Just ask my mom.

Something serious is going on with his people, but he can’t get anywhere close to them, much less get involved. With every passing minute, I can feel his urgency to get his feathered wings reattached so he can dive back into his world. I try not to think about what will happen in my world when he does.

“I know it’s hard for you to wait while I scope out the situation, but I can handle it. Besides, who’s going to watch Paige?” As soon as I ask this question, I know it’s the wrong thing to say. You don’t tell an elite soldier to stay behind and watch the kids. “Her pets can babysit.”

My sensei always told me to trust my instincts, that my gut knows things my brain doesn’t and can figure things out faster.

“I’m looking for someone. Do you know where the twins are? Dee and Dum?” “Yeah, right,” says the guard. “Like they have time to talk to every teenage girl crying for her lost puppy. Next thing you know, you’ll be asking to see Obadiah West. Those guys have a whole camp to run. They don’t have time for stupid questions.”

“Get back to your assigned room. Someone will be bringing food as soon as they can, and you’ll be shipped to a nice hotel room when it’s dark enough to hide the envoy.” “Hide from what?” They look at me like I’m nuts. “The angels.” One gives the other a look that says duh. “But they can see in the dark,” I say. “Who told you that? They can’t see in the dark. The only thing they can do better than us is fly.”

“Penryn?” asks the woman speaking to the guy. “What kind of name is that?” They’re not calling me. They’re talking about me. The guy shrugs. “Probably some foreign name that means angel slayer.” “Yeah, right. So do you believe it?” “What? That she killed an angel?” How did they know about that? He shrugs again. “Don’t know.” He lowers his voice. “All I know is that it would be amazing to have a safety pass from the angels.”

“I know one thing,” says another guy closer to me. He wears glasses with a big crack on one lens. “Whether it was the angels or gangs or demons from hell who put the bounty on that girl, it ain’t gonna be me who turns her in.” He shakes his head. “Me neither,” says another man nearby. “I heard it was Penryn who saved us from that nightmare on Alcatraz.” “Obadiah West saved us,” says the woman. “And so did those funny twins. What were their names?” “Tweedledee and Tweedledum.” “That can’t be right.” “I kid you not.” “Yeah, but it was the girl Penryn who told them to do it. She’s the one who got them to rescue us.”

I’m almost surprised to see she’s still with the Resistance. I heard they let all the barking dogs go when they found out the angels had superhearing.

And I thought I had it bad trying to keep my family alive. I can’t imagine how much pressure he must feel being responsible for all these lives.

The room gets quiet, and everyone turns to look at me. So much for trying to be subtle.

The twins lean over in opposite directions to peer around me. “Is that Raffe?” asks Dee. “That is so Raffe,” says Dum. I start to close the door. “No, no, no,” says Dee. Both the twins get up and walk fast to the door.

“There’s been a rumor about a teenage girl who killed an angel,” says Obi. “They say she has a sword that might be disguised as a teddy bear.” He looks at Pooky Bear dangling off my hip. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” I blink innocently at him, wondering if it’s better to own it or deny it.

I watch Obi and Raffe make their way around the table. Does Raffe think this is funny? Obi is about to give an angel a tour of the Resistance camp?

“Good to know he’s not a jerk to everyone.” “Actually, you’d be surprised at what a good guy he is,” says Dee. “I can tell he hasn’t thrown you in jail and abused your sister like Frankenstein’s monster.” “He makes hard choices so the rest of us don’t have to,” says Dum. That shuts me up. Wasn’t I wishing for someone else to make the hard choices for me?

That almost stops me in my tracks. “Like me? Obi and I don’t have anything in common.” “You’d be surprised,” says Dum. “Stubborn, loyal, utterly driven to accomplish your mission.” “Basically, you’re both crazy heroes.” “And everybody thinks you’re both hot,” says Dee. I scoff. “Now I know you’re full of it.” “You’re seriously going to tell us you haven’t noticed the way guys look at you?” “What guys? What are you talking about?” They exchange glances. “Girl,” says Dee,

“We thought about busting you out, but Obi thought it was more important to get those people off Alcatraz.” “We wouldn’t have agreed if we’d known your mom was there.” “Pain in the ass, let me tell ya.” “You don’t need to tell me,” I say. “I know all about what a pain she can be.” Dee laughs. “She’s like a weapons-grade pain in the ass. We figured out to sic her on the bad guys, and she became a huge asset.” “Freaked out the human guards there until we came.” “Did you know she can be truly frightening?” I nod. “Oh, yeah. I know that.” “Most of us had no idea. Totally blindsided us all.” “She’s one of our captains now.” “What?” It’s hard to imagine my mother being in charge of anything. “Yeah. For real. What kind of a scary world is that?” I blink a couple of times, letting that settle in. I admit that if there’s one thing I can expect from her, it’s the unexpected. “Your mom totally rocks.” The twins nod like little bobblehead dolls.

Amazingly, they all back off. Everyone else might reject the locust victims, but I guess the twins don’t discriminate in their betting pools. Dee looks just as surprised as I am. He glances over at his brother. “Dude, we’re the new HBO.” He flashes a grin.

A man starts screaming to my left. If I keep running, the man will probably die. If I stop to help him, I’ll lose my chance to draw hellions away from everyone else. No good choices left in the World After.

I jump in the car and shut the door, hoping there’s a key. Hellions slam into my door and windshield. Thank everything left that’s good in the world for Obi’s paranoia and preparation. The keys are there.

As soon as I get my foot on the asphalt, claws grab me. All teeth and spittle, it’s the side of hellions I haven’t seen in my sword dreams. They run from Raffe. With him, they are the victims. With me, they are the killers.

No gun, I can’t draw my sword, and I’m trapped in the wedge of the car door. The best I can hope for is that people get a few minutes to run while the hellions are busy tearing me apart. It’s a Penryn party.

Suddenly, they all stop. Their bat-like faces lift into the air, their ugly nostrils sniffing madly. One of them shakes its head like a dog shaking off water. The one that was about to reach my neck with its claws backs off, letting me go. The ones climbing over the door can’t back off fast enough. All around me, I sense terror. They all run away. It takes me a second to realize that I’m free and still alive. In the headlight beams, a pair of legs walk toward the rush of hellions who are running from the car. The beam of light creeps up the person’s body as the legs move toward me until I can see who it is. It’s my mother. The hellions run. Away from the school, away from the people, and especially away from my mother. “What the hell?” I stare, dumbfounded. Then the smell finally hits my awareness. It reeks here. The windshield is splattered with Mom’s rotten eggs. Old yellow-and-black goo oozes across the windshield like a giant bird dropping. The smell. They’re running from the smell. They’re running with the same terror that the hellions did from the demon in the Pit when he hissed at them. Does the smell remind them of their evil bosses? Do they assume an angry demon lord is coming when they smell rotten eggs?

I stare at my mother as she walks toward me with eggs in each hand. She may be insane, but she has seen and experienced things. Things that other people haven’t understood. By the time she reaches me, the hellions have all run off. “Are you okay?” she asks. I nod. “How’d you do that?” “It does stink something awful, doesn’t it?” My...

“Yeah, I’m fine. Those ugly bullies were more afraid of my mommy than any warrior angel anyway. She’s far more scary.”

I want to remind him that we’re at war with an enemy we don’t understand. But it’s pointless to argue. I’ll never be okay with Uriel’s experiments on humans regardless of what reasons he thinks he has, so why would Raffe understand any reason we might have to cut into his kind?

“They raided the lab on Angel Island when they rescued their people and stole something they could tinker with. Apparently, Laylah is working on a human plague and generating various strains to optimize the damage. There’s one strain that they hope might work against angels.” “How close are they to creating this angelic plague?” “Not very. Otherwise, I would have had to kill them.” We walk in silence, the concept of kill or be killed heavy between us.

“I have a message for you,” says the woman to Raffe. “The message is, freedom and gratitude. Trust, my brother.” Raffe spends a couple of seconds taking that in. “Where is he?” he asks. “Waiting for you downtown at the church with the stained glass.”

My mother bows to the lady. “Thank you for your sacrifice. Thank you for volunteering.” “Volunteering for what?” I ask, feeling uneasy. “Don’t worry about it, Penryn.” My mother waves me away. “I’ll take care of this.”