“He used you,” Phoenix grinds out. I can see the soft flickering anger fading in and out of his body. His eyes are pitch black, his veins running dark with the color. “To bring hell on earth. Heusedyou, Iz. Please... get the fuck away from him.”
My hands shake at those words I know in my heart are true. He’d lied, he’d tricked me, not into bringing an essence of hell to myself, but into actually opening the rift between dimensions to let them through. And they were pouring through the portal, silent shadows slipping from the glowing pulse of that rip.
Despite it all, I can’t take a step forward, can’t take a step away from my father... my fuckingfather.He lied, he tricked… but he’d also saved me.
“You don’t understand,” I whisper.
“Then fucking explain it to me!” he yells. And I can literally see his heart fracturing before my very eyes. The emotions he kept so long at bay that appeared for me are suddenly tumbling and he doesn’t know what to do.
The expression fractures my own heart, and my cruel, cruel Prod laughs slightly at it.
Everything suddenly falls into place. I know what I have to do, even if it breaks my men in the process.
“He’s my father,” I tell them. “He gave me my powers. This—” I gesture at the portal, at what our world is becoming. “—this had to be done to give me that control, the power I need to protect you from myself.”
My father takes a step forward, crossing his arms against his chest. “And there is still more power to claim, my daughter.”
Phoenix’s eyes slash to him. “Don’t,” he hisses. “You don’t get to fucking call her that.” He takes a step forward. “You aren’t her fucking father. Her father’s name is Mr. Thomson. Her father adopted her, he bought her paints, he has been there for her when you weren’t. You areusing herfor your own fucking agenda.”
“Phoenix.” My voice is a tether that pulls his gaze back to me. Something in him softens. “My mother was an angel.” An angel I’ve despised since I’ve heard of her. “And she tried to kill me.” She killed my brother. I had a fuckingbrother.
My father slips at my side, placing a hand against my shoulder. “I sent Izara away to protect her from those who would kill her. Like her angel mother.”
“I saw her,” I add. “I saw her in limbo. ‘You shouldn’t exist,’ she said to me. Because she wanted me dead.” A single tear slips from my eye. I could have been dead like my brother, like the broken body of the little boy with bicolored eyes held within the arms of a crying father.
“Because youshouldn’t,” Syko says. Not unkindly, but with a hard edge to his voice. “No angel would willingly lie with the devil. So ask him how you came about.” His eyes narrow on Shade. Lucian. My father.
I don’t know what to call him.
The words Syko implies are too ugly to think about, and the devil at my side has no response to them. My gut clenches, but I push all feeling aside.
“You didn’t see what I saw. You didn’t hold my dead body in your arms. But I held yours.” My eyes find Malek’s, Saint’s, Syko’s, Phoenix’s, Heaven’s, and Sasha’s. “I killed you all and it won’t happen again.”
“It won’t,” Shade says with pride. “Because hell is coming through and your powers will only grow. You will be powerful, more powerful than any being to walk earth, heaven, or hell.”
He waves a hand in front of my body and I feel the change come over me. The Academy uniform fades and becomes a sleek black dress with individual golden specks sewn over it like burning embers. A heavy weight settles over my brow and I know, without having to look in a mirror, that it’s a crown.
“Take your power, my daughter.” He turns and I turn with him, watching as the three thrones of hell form behind us. “Join us.”
Join us.
Yes, my Prod purrs. Join them.
I turn in time to see the Messenger of Chaos step from the portal, his massive body fitting through it like it’s nothing. His footsteps thunder, and he shoots a gargoyle smirk in my direction as he goes and takes a seat on his throne, on the right side.
“Join us.” Shade takes a step back and sits on his throne in the middle and I see him for what he truly is. A demon. A devil. His wings arch above his back, and two horns sprout from his forehead, growing into vicious curved spikes.
I know what I have to do.
I turn to my men and feel the tears stream down my face. I know they know what I am going to choose. I know I will break their hearts, and I know, without a doubt, that I am going to lose them.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, as I take a step back…
...and sit on my throne.
Thirty-One
Phoenix
