I waited to see if Will wished to fulfill his oath to take Merodach’s life. Both of us had a claim to revenge now, but the image of Merodach’s sword buried in Nathaniel’s heart had haunted us since the night it happened.

Will and I exchanged looks and I gave him a slow nod, acknowledging that I wanted him to have this kill. Will shoved his boot into Merodach’s rib cage and tugged his sword from the reaper’s chest. Merodach shuddered and moaned, gagging on his own blood.

Will, splashed with blood that mostly belonged to others, pressed the sword’s tip to the demonic reaper’s neck. Wounds that streaked across his face, arms, and chest healed quickly. “You came here with a force of over two dozen and still you were outnumbered.”

Merodach laughed, a horrible wheezing sound. “You can’t stop Sammael. You think you know what you have to do to beat us, but it will take your lives.”

“The words of a dead man mean nothing to me,” Will snarled. He buried the blade through muscle and bone, severing Merodach’s head. His skin hardened to stone and within seconds, the demonic reaper’s remains resembled very little of the beast he’d once been.

For a few moments, neither of us moved or spoke. We were paralyzed by surprise and relief to have this great enemy dead at our feet. We stared at Merodach’s remains as if we expected his pieces to glue themselves back together and rise to continue the fight. When they didn’t, I let my swords disappear and I touched Will’s shoulder. He was frozen solid. I put my other hand to his chest and looked up into his face. The wailing sirens let us know that the police had to be just blocks away now.

“Will,” I murmured to him softly. I moved my hand up to touch his cheek and gently turned his face to mine. His crystalline green eyes blazed back at me. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay now.”

With that, the tension washed away from him like the receding tide and he pulled me into his arms, hugging me close. I buried my face into his chest, soaking in his warmth and comfort. He held me for so achingly long that I almost forgot everything that had happened. I pulled myself out of his arms and turned to gaze toward the carnage Merodach had caused, at all the bodies littering the ground.

“It’s not your fault,” he whispered into my ear. “Merodach did this.”

“But it’s not fair. There shouldn’t have been collateral.”

“The only thing we can do is stop the demonic from hurting anyone else,” Will said.

He was right. While Merodach’s death gave us a sense of relief, having avenged the deaths of our friends, things almost didn’t feel that much different. His death was a stepping stone. There was still so much more to be done.

“We should get out of here,” he said. “We can’t get caught up with the police.”

He took my hand and guided me back to my car. The hood was caved in, but the engine started up with no trouble. We drove away, but I stared into the mirror long after the battle site faded into the night.

15

WILL AND I WERE QUIET FOR THE REST OF THE drive home. I brought Nathaniel’s copy of the grimoire inside and hid it among the rest of the books in his study, hoping it would blend in, just in case someone tried to steal it again. Will grabbed some quick food so he could heal his injuries before showering and I went ahead to take a shower in the bathroom connected to Nathaniel’s old room. I tried not to close my eyes, because every time I did, I saw Merodach’s last moment flash in my mind, heard his last words, and then saw Will’s sword separating his head from his neck. I wished I could scrub the memories away like I could scrub the blood from my skin. It was over, he was done with, and all I wanted was to forget his frightening face and move forward with my life and my mission.

After quite a while, reluctant to leave the soothing hot water, I finished in the shower and dressed in a tank and shorts for bed. Will had already finished his shower and sat in the chair in the corner of his room, leaning forward on his elbows. His body was stiff and motionless, his hair still wet from his shower and his shirt was patched dark with dampness from his chest and back.

“Are you okay?” I asked as I leaned against the doorframe and crossed my arms.

He took a long, deep breath, letting his shoulders relax. He nodded.

I stopped in front of him and ran a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes at my touch. After some time, he leaned back in the chair and looked up at me. “How’s your arm?” I asked.

He rolled up his sleeve to expose the ugly red slash, all that was left of the deep gash Merodach’s sword had cut into him. I traced the line gently before pulling his sleeve back down. That slash had been meant for me, not for him, a blow that could have killed me. I looked up to find his gaze locked on my face.

“And the other place you were hurt?” I asked, my voice trembling.

He stood and lifted the bottom of his shirt to show me the mostly healed wound across his abdomen. My heart pounded as I lifted my hand to his skin, my shaking fingertips brushing over hard muscle, and he rested his forehead against mine. When I pulled my hand away, he straightened and looked down at me calmly and collectedly.

“I should go.” I turned and took a step toward the door, but he grabbed my hand and spun me around, yanking me into him hard as I let out a gasp of surprise.

“Don’t,” he said. His eyes were green orphic fire, piercing me for a heartbeat that felt like an eternity, and then his mouth opened hungrily against mine. His kiss was scorching, exploring, his chest pushing into mine. My arms wound around his neck as his mouth moved over mine and his hands smoothed around my waist. My back. My cheeks. Threading through my still-damp hair. My fingers dug into his shoulders and glided up the back of his neck as his lips found my throat, his breath hot against tender skin. His nose and lips brushed against my neck and he kissed a trail from the delicate spot behind my ear down my throat. He let the strap of my tank fall and his lips pressed to my bare shoulder. He was smiling and then so was I, laughing quietly into his hair, filled with so much happiness and rightness. I was ready for this. I wanted this. My hands touched his neck and jaw, playing with his ear and shirt collar. He laughed too, but there was something in his laugh that made my stomach flip and flutter, something rich and raging. My fingers traveled south and dipped into his waistband and fumbled with his belt.