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“The Prophecy is not ours. It is the property of history. As it was foretold, so it shall be. First as the future, then as the present when the time is nigh. And after that, with recording, it shall be the sacred past, the saving of the species, the end of the war.”
What if I can’t believe it, he amended. “You assume destiny requires your permission to exist.”
Everyone was talking about the end of the war, but was there ever really an end to evil? Even if he succeeded, even if he was, in fact, the Dhestroyer, what then. Sweetness and light forever? No, he thought with a conviction that made his spine tingle with warning. There would be another. And it would be the same as what had been defeated. Only worse.
Jim Heron, the fallen angel, was in Heaven now, forever apart from her—and forever not alone. He was with that little, irrelevant girl, Sissy, who he stupidly gave a shit about, and his eternity with that mealy-mouthed pathetic made Devina want to destroy the earth itself. And then start on the rest of the galaxy.
Zypher, the outrageously beautiful bastard, was pulling a schoolmarm, his one working eye frowning with disapproval. The other one, which had been lost about two months ago in a stabbing with a lesser, was currently replaced by a falsie with a Captain America shield for an iris.
He was hers to command, and if she wished to take his life here and now, he would willingly give his mortal coil unto her. No matter how much it hurt or what his suffering was, it would be a good death, one he had long deserved.
Because this female, who captivated his black soul as surely as if she held his beating heart in her palm, would be the one killing him.
The big house was like Tsarist Russia meeting Napoleonic France with a flash of Hogwarts.
Butch and V’s crib? Try frat house crossed with bachelor pad: They had this couch, a foosball table, a TV the size of a soccer field, and V’s Four Toys, a.k.a. his computer setup. But at least here had been some refinements since their shellans had moved in. Courtesy of Marissa and Jane, gym bags were no longer coughing up jock straps and running shoes like they were choking from the smell, the issues of Sports Illustrated were in a tidy stack on the coffee table, and the half-eaten bags of Doritos and sour-cream-and-onion Ruffles were kept to a minimum.
“With everything I am, and all that I will ever be, I swear, I will come back to you.”
There shall be one to bring the end before the master, a fighter of modern time found in the seventh of the twenty-first, and he shall be known in the numbers he bears: One more than the compass he apperceives, Though a mere four points to make at his right, Three lives has he, Two scores on his fore, and with a single black eye, in one well will he be birthed and die.
You’re worthy of love. You deserve to be respected and cherished, and to get that, you don’t need to be anything different than you are. You have been created for a reason. You’re here for a reason. You have a purpose, and you have to believe that you’ll find someone who will help you in that purpose. And until that happens? All you really need to know is that you don’t have to be validated by anybody but yourself. You are enough.”
“I have been known by many names, but I have always been female so it would be rude of you to ask my age. I am the Omega’s little sister. I am Devina.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For what? I’ve not really done anything.” Reaching up, she traced the features she loved so much with her fingertips. “For giving me a home. A proper home.” “Well, this mansion isn’t mine—”
“I’m not talking about the building we’re in.” She thought of her lonely childhood, her sense of being lost in the world even as she lived around other people. “More than the answers to who I am, I’ve been searching for a home. You are my home. You, and only you, are my shelter and my comfort.”
Jo laughed. Then she said, “Thank you for welcoming me into your home.” Wrath’s nostrils flared. And then he smiled that fierce smile of his. Putting his huge hand on her shoulder, he said in his commanding voice. “You’re family. Where else would you live?”
Jo ducked her eyes and seemed to have to blink away the tears. As Syn slipped an arm around her waist, so she knew he was there for her, she said, “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment.” “Blood is thicker than water,” the King said gently. “And your blood, your place, is here with us.”
