The Dirt on Ninth Grave(103)

"No matter the cost."



I suddenly got the feeling Reyes was being played. The barest hint of a smirk lifted one corner of Michael's mouth. He was pleased with the bargain he'd just struck. A little too pleased, in fact, and I couldn't help but wonder what Reyes had gotten himself into.




 

 



Before Reyes could react, Michael raised his right fist and slid his wrist along the razor-sharp edge of Reyes's blade. Then, as though self-mutilation were a sport, Reyes did the same. He dropped the hilt into the palm of his left hand and sliced his right wrist open on his sword.



My hand shot up to cover my mouth. Blood gushed out of the deep opening and ran in rivulets over his forearm. They stepped toward each other and started to shake on it, but Michael paused, holding back for one last assurance.



"Your word. All three gods of Uzan will be banished from this plane and will never, ever return."



Reyes knew something was going on. Had known from the first. I could feel the turmoil bubbling inside him. He lowered his head and watched Michael from underneath his dark lashes, his eyes glittering, his brows knitting in thought. After a moment of contemplation, he gave one quick nod.



Michael grabbed his forearm close to the elbow before Reyes could change his mind. Reyes followed suit, and their mutilated wrists touched in what amounted to a blood oath.



With an archangel.



What were the odds?



I felt the need to ask one burning question. "So there's more than one god?"



They didn't answer. As soon as the deed was done, Michael took on an expression way too smug for the direness at hand. "The bargain has been struck, Rey'aziel. The blood exchanged. You cannot, for any reason, back out."



Reyes stepped closer to me. "I don't plan to."



"I am well aware of this …  uncommon sense of honor you've gained while here in His realm." He sheathed his sword. "Just don't forget where you came from."



Reyes didn't take the bait. He watched and waited for the angelic asshat to leave.



Michael turned to go, then stopped and said, "I just thought you should know, I couldn't have killed her either way."



I felt Reyes still.



"She dematerialized her human form. She fused it together with her celestial energies. Now, even her physical body is immortal. Only another god can end her life. Father was on his way to do just that, but now that we have an agreement … "



Oddly enough, Reyes seemed more confused than upset. "You did it on purpose. Why? We would have agreed. It is to our advantage to cast out the gods. You didn't have to threaten her." He took a bold step, closing the distance between them. "Why?"



"Some bargains are just too good to pass up." 



An unsatisfied growl rumbled out of Reyes's chest. Giving up for now, he said, "You need to fix this."



Michael admired the surroundings once again. "Clean up your own mess."



"For old time's sake," Reyes said.



In an instant the world was back where it belonged. The windows stood fully intact. The coffee cups rested on their respective tables. People sat talking and laughing as though their cook hadn't just sealed a blood pact with an archangel to cast gods out of their world.



I glanced around for Reyes, then looked through the pass-out window. He was behind the grill, cooking, as if nothing had happened. My mouth formed a perfect O. Had I just hallucinated everything?



When Reyes glanced at me from underneath his lashes before reaching up to the spice rack, I knew that it had all been real. A huge gash ran the length of his arm. I hadn't imagined anything. I inched backwards to the front doors as what I'd done came rushing back.



I'd gotten angry and risked the lives of my best friends? I was some sort of time bomb that would eventually collapse the universe? God  –  the God  –  wanted me dead? What kind of monster was I? Reyes stopped what he was doing. Gauged my emotions. Saw the fear in my eyes. Just as he started after me, I burst out the door and took off.



I thought of nothing but running. Nothing but getting away from people before I hurt someone. The otherworld raged around me as I ran. Its wind blistered my skin and scorched my lungs. I shook out of it and fought to stay in the tangible world, where it had just started to snow.



I kept running, my legs pushing forward as though they had an unlimited source of energy. The last time I tried to run, I got half a block and almost keeled over.



This was not me. This was the being Michael wanted dead. The one God wanted off His planet.



Slowing to a stop, I fell to my knees and panted. My breaths made puffs of white fog in the air, and my jeans were wet from the snow.