“It’s all my business. There isn’t a move you make that doesn’t concernme.”
“It’s not my moves you need to worryabout.”
“I beg todiffer.”
Skyla appears through the mist as if she had materialized right here on the porch, her face glowing, her cheeks piqued with color. “I just nursed the boys and put them to bed.” She flashes a megawatt smile as she strides through the door. Skyla is fierce and beautiful, and the thought of her nurturing those precious boys with her own body melts me to the core. If I were Gage, I’d grovel on my knees day in and day out until I wore her down and she forgave me, if for nothing else but to shut me the hell up. “I’m exhausted. Can we make thisquick?”
Dudley jets past me and takes up her hand. “Anything for you, my love. Let’s get down to business.” He ushers us into his dining room, the seats still warm from his previous questionable meeting. “Are the two of you aware of the ramifications of what you’vedone?”
“It’s wartime,” Skyla says it soft, her eyes quickly glossing over with fatigue. “It may not be official, but when you sic the feds on the asses of my people, you can bet that’s an act of vitriolicaggression.”
“Agreed.” Dudley’s brows rise slowly as if he were waiting for the last second to spring this bit of news onus.
“Good.” Skyla straightens in her seat, but I can tell by that deep sigh that just expelled from her she’s as relieved as I am. Dudley is a good barometer as far as how the Decision Council will weigh. “I’ve got this under control, Marshall. I don’t want to drag you intothis.”
“Nor will you.” He slices those disapproving lenses from Skyla to me. “The time of the dragon isnear.”
“Gage is the dragon?” Skyla groans at the idea, which in my opinion is a good sign. It means she still sees the good in him. She should. He’s still good right down to the marrow. “I don’t want to discusshim.”
Dudley’s gaze lingers over hers. “Then perhaps we should start with his father. Demetri is all too aware that his time isshort.”
“Demetri is indestructible,” I counter. “His time is far too long if you askme.”
Dudley blinks a smile. “His earthly time to secure an eternal post for the Fems. The Sectors have staked their rightful claim ages ago. He’s been anxious ever since the Fems lost their footing. The great and dreadful day of the Lord is at hand, and once it arrives, our destinies are forever carved in stone, if youwill.”
“The great and dreadful day of the Lord,” I whisper. “And when will thisbe?”
His eyes dart to mine, sharp as knives. “Not even the Son is apprised of the hour. And besides, that’s neither here nor there. It is imminent. The Fems are desperate. Demetri is quickly becoming a joke in all the important celestial circles. This does not bode well with him or his troops. His people loathe humiliation above just about anything else. It’s a culture of pride they foster—one which brought their demise to begin with. It’s not a matter ofifbut of when he decides to strike back. He’s simply building his forces, working the enemy into a fervor—rolling out the smoke, holding up the mirrors.” He looks at the two of us as if we should be filling in theblanks.
Skyla clicks her tongue. “You think the feds are a ruse? Forwhat?”
“A double-edged sword.” I lean in. “Our people are hauled off, and in the meantime, whatever he and Wes are cooking up, front burner, we won’t know about until it blows up in ourface.”
“Precisely.” Dudley folds his hands together and knocks them over the table like a gavel. “Have you delved intoRevelation?”
“Yes,” Skyla and I answer simultaneously. We share a brief look before returning our gaze to Dudley because we seem to have stumped ourselves at our sudden thirst for Biblical revelation as itwere.
“The time is at hand to leave your mark, your legacy, to lead the way to freedom for your people.” Marshall’s voice rolls like thunder. “Never before have they faced such an enemy, never before has the enemy felt the blade against his neck as painfully as he does this hour. It is pertinent we walk the line together.” His eyes skirt to mine before returning to Skyla’s. “There was once a man in the early fourteen hundreds who engineered the slaughter of hundreds of thousands of your Nephilim brothers and sisters. It was ethnic cleansing at its best, and it was commandeered in the short span of a year by the temperament of a beguiling character, someone so charismatic, comely, and magnetic. Every word he spoke was twisted, and yet do you know who he had carry out theatrocities?”
“His son?” Skyla tilts her head with a touch ofsarcasm.
“His enemy.” Dudley grins as if this were the best news. And just as easily as that grin came, his wicked scowls returns to its rightful post. “He masterminded a play of action that in context was indeed brilliant. What better way to slaughter your adversary than by their ownhand?”
“My people”—Skyla stumbles over the words—“the Nephilim were manipulated into neareradication.”
“That they were.” His eyes sear over hers. “Let me ask you this. Would it have been moral for someone with that foreknowledge to travel back in time, locate him as a babe in a pram, and snuff the life out of his infantnostrils?”
Skyla’s chest hiccups at the thought. Her eyes bounce to mine a moment before she closes them in consideration. “Yes,” she whispers so low it comes out ahiss.
My heart seizes with pain at the thought of Skyla processing that horrific what-ifscenario.
“Dudley”—I bark—“in light of the fact that Skyla is a new mother, I think it’s particularly tasteless of you to play this twisted game with her. You and I both know it’s impossible to go back and change someone’sdestiny.”
Dudley leans against his seat, the muscles in his jaw jumping as he sets that look of near-hatred upon me. “You and I both know this—do we? Tell me this, young Oliver. Was it time for those poor souls to perish in what is now referred to as the Celestra killing season? Do you recall a little trial that involved the two of you? I believe it resulted in a war and a beheading—yours to beexact.”
“He’s got you there,” Skylamuses.
“To answer your question, I don’t know. Perhaps it was their time to die.” By way of the spirit sword—by my hand. The war and the damn beheading bounce through my mind. I lean in and rest my chin on my fist. “We had power—we just wielded itpoorly.”
