He was pulling out all the stops now, though, and I knew that he was doing it for me. And while I hated that he had to dip into the dark, I couldn’t deny that the knowledge that he was out there, thwarting Gabriel in an attempt to keep me safe and with him, made my heart that much lighter.
And, yeah, Deacon was definitely doing some serious thwarting. Gabriel’s tattooed face was a mask of pure rage, and he thrust both his arms out in an obvious effort to counteract whatever Deacon was doing.
As for Deacon, all I could tell was that he was working hard. I could still see the man I knew, but the effort had cost him, and his skin and bones had shifted, the flesh itself changing color. He wasn’t metamorphosing like Clarence had, but there was definitely some demonic mojo going on.
Right then I didn’t care. Bring on the demon, if that was what it took. Anything to keep me anchored there.
“Fool,” Gabriel hissed. “Do you not see that even now you destroy everything you have strived for?”
“I see myself saving an innocent,” Deacon said. “A woman who would save the world, not a demon who would destroy it.”
“You do not see clearly.”
“I see clearly enough.”
“What was it you sought, Deacon Camphire? Was it redemption? I believe that it was.”
I could see the anger flare on Deacon’s face, but he didn’t rise to the bait and answer. He stayed silent, waiting.
“All that you worked for, destroyed,” Gabriel said.
“Don’t taunt me with what your kind denied me,” Deacon said bitterly.
“But cannot your deeds even now redeem you? Cannot what you do today combine with the deeds of the past to earn you what you seek?”
Deacon looked up at Gabriel, and this time, to my horror, I saw interest in his eyes.
“You stole the third relic from Penemue and hid it where it has yet to be found. For that, you were tortured, thrust into the pit, and marked as a Tri-Jal. You would have that torment be for naught?”
“I’ve made my choice,” Deacon said, through clenched teeth.
“Have you? You sought to retrieve the other two relics. Tried to find them for the purpose of destroying them. Tried once more to find a way to betray Penemue and serve the forces of good.”
“I failed,” Deacon said, even as I fingered the necklace and gemstone that hung around my neck. I understood now how he had known that the caves were in China and how he had known to warn me away from the acid stream. He’d already been there once, and he knew what to expect. What he didn’t know then was how to get the box from the water. For that, he needed my blood.
“You wanted to lock the gate. Wanted to earn a place in heaven and shed the weight of the horrors of your past. You failed, though,” Gabriel said. “With this woman at your side, you failed.”
“It isn’t over,” Deacon said. “We will still lock the gates.”
“‘We’?” Gabriel asked. “This woman who craves the dark. Who is fascinated by its lure? By the power it can bring.”
Deacon’s eyes darted to me, and I wished I could shake my head in denial, but I couldn’t. Because everything Gabriel said was true. And if Deacon let me live, he assumed a greater risk than he’d ever assumed before.
“I will lock it,” Deacon said. “I’ve foreseen it. And Lily will help me.”
“Visions are tricky things,” Gabriel said. “But on the whole, I do not doubt your word. Lily shall lock the gate. And as for your redemption, all you must do is choose.”
Deacon shook his head, clearly not understanding what Gabriel meant any more than I did.
“Lily is the key,” Gabriel said, making my knees turn to water. Me? Though once I thought about it, I supposed it made sense. The flip side of the prophecy, and all. And it sure as hell explained why I couldn’t find the key on my arm even though I knew the proper incantation—my map doesn’t find people. And whatever else I might be, I was still a person.
“No,” Deacon was saying, shaking his head slowly.
“Yes. It is her—her flesh, her blood—that locks all the gates. Her flesh, her blood, thrown into the portal at the moment of convergence. And you need only lower your arm to ensure your redemption. Lower your arm,” he repeated, “and let me take the girl away.”
I swallowed, terrified that Deacon would do just that. There was a blur, then I saw that Rose—standing tall and proud with her new pink hair—had Kiera’s knife pressed hard to Deacon’s temple. “Betray my sister, and I will kill you.”
Deacon never even looked at Rose. Instead, he looked only at me. “I would never betray her,” he said. And then he jerked away from Rose, and in the same lightning-quick movement, snatched her knife and sliced off his left hand.