Silence

CHAPTER 34

THE SUN HAD BURNED THROUGH HALF THE DAY BY the time Patch parked his motorcycle in front of the farmhouse. I swung off, a silly smile plastered on my face, a warm glow permeating every inch of skin. Perfection.

I wasn’t naive enough to think it would last, but there was something to be said about living in the moment. I’d already decided to file dealing with my new purebred Nephilim blood, and all the consequences that were bound to come with it, including how my transformation would manifest itself and ruling Hank’s army, under future concerns.

Right now, I had everything I could ask for. It wasn’t a long list, but it was a very satisfying one, starting with the love of my life back in my arms.

“I had fun last night,” I told Patch, flicking off my chin strap and handing over my helmet. “I’m officially in love with your sheets.”

“That the only thing you’re in love with?”

“Nope. Your mattress, too.”

Some smile crept into Patch’s eyes. “My bed’s an open invitation.”

We hadn’t slept with a Do Not Cross line drawn down the middle of the bed, because we hadn’t slept together, period. I took the bed and Patch got the sofa. I knew he wanted more from me, but I also knew he wanted my head in the right place. He’d said he could wait, and I believed him.

“Give me an inch, I’ll take a mile,” I warned. “You should be worried I might confiscate it.”

“I’d consider myself a lucky man.”

“Only downside to your place is the disturbingly low amount of extraneous toiletries. No conditioner? Lip gloss? Sunscreen?” I jerked my thumb toward the front door. “I need to brush my teeth. And I need a shower.”

He grinned, hopping off the bike. “Now that is an invitation.”

Reaching up on my tiptoes, I kissed him. “When I finish, it’s D-day. I’m going over to Vee’s to pick up my mom, and I’m telling both of them the truth. Hank is gone, and it’s time to come clean.”

I wasn’t looking forward to the conversation, but I’d waited long enough. All this time I’d told myself I was protecting Vee and my mom, but I was using lies to keep them from the truth. I was forcing them into the darkness because I was scared they couldn’t handle the light. Even I knew the logic was messed up.

I unlocked the front door, tossing my keys into the dish. I hadn’t made it three steps before Patch snagged my elbow. One look at his face, and I knew something was wrong.

Before Patch could shield me behind his body, Scott stepped out from the kitchen. He made a beckoning gesture, and two other Nephilim moved into the hallway beside him. Both appeared about Scott’s age. Tall and muscular with hard-bitten features. They eyed me with open curiosity.

“Scott,” I said, dodging around Patch and hurrying toward him. I threw my arms around him, hugging him fiercely. “What happened? How did you escape?”

“Given the circumstances, it was decided I’d be more effective on the front lines than locked up. Nora, meet Dante Matterazzi and Tono Grantham,” he said. “Both are first lieutenants in the Black Hand’s army.”

Patch crossed to us. “You brought these men into Nora’s home?” he said, eyeing Scott as though he’d like to snap his neck.

“Easy, man. They’re cool. They can be trusted,” Scott said.

Patch’s laugh was low and predatory. “Reassuring news coming from a known liar.”

A muscle in Scott’s cheek contracted. “Sure you want to play this game? You’ve got just as many skeletons in your closet.”

Oh boy.

“Hank’s dead,” I told Scott, not seeing any reason to put it gently, or give Patch and Scott further time to swap testosterone-fueled insults.

Scott nodded. “We know. Show her the sign, Dante.”

Dante stepped forward. He was over six and a half feet tall and swarthy, and his Latin looks lived up to his name. He extended his hand. A ring identical to the one Scott had tossed into the ocean fit his index finger snugly. It glowed blue and wild, and the light seemed to skitter behind my eyes even after I’d shut them. “The Black Hand told me this would happen if he died,” Dante explained. “Scott’s right. It’s a sign.”

Scott said, “That’s why I was released. The army is in pandemonium. Nobody knows what to do. Cheshvan is almost here and the Black Hand had plans for war, but his men are restless. They’ve lost their leader. They’re starting to panic.”

I waded through this information. A thought struck me. “They released you because you knew how to find me — Hank’s next in line?” I guessed, eyeing Dante and Tono warily. Scott might trust them, but I had yet to make up my own mind.

“Like I said, these guys are clean. They’ve already confessed loyalty to you. We have to get as many Nephilim behind you as possible before this falls apart. The last thing we need right now is a coup.”

I felt light-headed. Actually, a coup sounded pretty appealing. Someone else wanted this job? Fine by me.

Dante spoke again. “Prior to his death, the Black Hand notified me that you agreed to take on the role of commander upon his death.”

I swallowed, not having expected this moment to arrive so quickly. I knew what had to be done, but I’d hoped for more time. To say I’d been dreading this moment was an understatement.

I looked all three of them in the eye in turn. “Yes, I swore a vow to lead Hank’s army. Here’s what’s going to happen. There isn’t going to be a war. Go back to the men and tell them to disband. All Nephilim who’ve sworn an oath of fealty are bound by a law that no army, no matter how great, can overthrow. To go into battle at this point would be suicide. Fallen angels are already planning retribution, and our only hope is to make it clear we aren’t going to fight them. Not this way. It’s over — and you can tell your men that’s an order.”

Dante smiled, but his expression held an edge. “I’d rather not discuss this with a fallen angel hanging around.” He leveled his eyes at Patch. “Give us a minute?”

I said, “I think it’s pretty obvious that asking Patch to leave is pointless. I’m going to tell him everything.” At Dante’s sore expression, I added, “When I swore the oath to Hank, I never said anything about breaking up with Patch. That’s right. Your new Nephil leader is dating a fallen angel.” Let the talk begin.

Dante’s curt nod was anything but accepting. “Then let’s get one thing straight. This isn’t over. Stalled, maybe, but not over. The Black Hand stirred up a revolution, and calling it off isn’t going to be enough to settle the dust.”

“I’m not worried about settling the dust. I’m worried about the Nephilim race as a whole. I’m thinking about what’s best for everyone.”

Scott, Dante, and Tono shared a silent look. At last Dante seemed to speak for all three. “Then we have a bigger problem. Because Nephilim think rebellion is best for them.”

“How many Nephilim?” Patch asked.

“Thousands. Enough to fill a city.” Dante’s eyes cut toward mine. “If you don’t lead them to freedom, you’ll break your vow. In short, your head’s on the line, Nora.”

I stared at Patch.

Stand your ground, he spoke calmly to my thoughts. Tell them the war is off and there’s no room for negotiation.

“I swore an oath to lead Hank’s army,” I told Dante. “I never promised freedom.”

“If you don’t declare war on fallen angels, you’re going to instantly make enemies with thousands of Nephilim,” he responded.

And if I do, I thought weakly, I might as well declare war on the archangels. They’d allowed Hank to die because Patch promised them I’d quell the uprising.

I returned my attention to Patch, and I knew we were sharing the same grisly thought. Either way, war was coming.

All I had to do now was decide my opponent.