Only that would mean never seeing Sunny again . . . unless he bumped into her at the gates of heaven. And his death would hurt her; he was sure of it. He knew that their current situation wasn't because she didn't care for him. He had total confidence that she'd been feeling every beautiful, conflicted, and tormenting emotion that he had tonight.
She was simply smart enough to have a healthy fear of God in the matter, whereas his heart—his human soul—had wanted to believe there was some way they could be together. Precisely because he did love and fear God, he possessed a ridiculous heap of faith that Sunny was meant to be in his life.
Until the restaurant tonight. Something about her saying that she'd never see him again had stabbed him more deeply than he'd thought possible. Her words had been final, and he'd known it.
She would never be convinced to search for any loophole to their situation; he'd glimpsed that resolution in her eyes.
So he really didn't have anything left to lose in this battle, which meant he shouldn't fear the shrieks and caterwauls that started up as soon as he climbed over the gate. With a quiet thud, he landed on the loamy ground inside the cemetery, squatting and listening keenly. Mason, Shay, and another one of the Shades, Evan, were already here, and he searched the ten-o'clock position for where they were supposed to be posted.
In the moonlit shadows, he could make out his brother's form, with Evan and Shay crouching beside him. It wouldn't be midnight for another thirty minutes, but they knew from experience that demons had difficulty understanding the human passage of time. Although demon stench was in the air, Thrastikas couldn't possibly have arrived yet, or Jamie would hear the demon's clanking chains. The links were long, permanently manacled to the creature's ankles, and they sounded his arrival like a death knell wherever he went. At least for Jamie and the other hunters who had the supernatural ability to hear and see demons.
Even though Thrastikas hadn't shown, there was still no telling how many of their enemies were massed already in the cemetery, so Jamie moved clandestinely toward Mason and Evan, keeping low to the ground.
Mace caught sight of him and motioned with his hand, indicating with two fingers that they were tracking a pair of the enemy. Jamie took up position behind a live oak nearby, poised with his semiautomatic for when the creatures came within striking distance.
Right then, a shriek like a banshee's rang out in the treetop just above Jamie—much too close above him. Swinging his weapon, he prepared to fire, but he didn't even get a chance. Thrastikas dropped from the tree, tackling him like a ten-ton deadweight, swinging several of his mighty chains overhead. His eyes were beady and red, and the chains made a whistling sound in the air as they whipped toward him. Dimly, Jamie was aware of Mason and Evan firing their weapons, but then heard more shrieks as an explosion of light pierced the darkness.
With a quick gaze to the left, he saw a demon horde move in on the other hunters, blocking them from aiding him. Shay cast a desperate glance in his direction, then turned to fight off the leather-winged creatures advancing upon them all. He was isolated, going head-to-head with a demon who particularly wanted his blood.
Again Thrastikas swung his chains overhead, growling at Jamie. "Hunter, your blood is mine. And after this fight—I'll have your soul."
His angel had been right: This was a trap, and now they'd been lethally ambushed.
Sunny, sweetheart . . . I'm sorry, he thought. He wished with all his might that he could see her even once more, just as the massive chains made contact with the crown of his head.
The last thing he heard was Thrastikas's wicked cackling. "James Angel, welcome to hell."
Sunny gunned the gas pedal of her Camry, wishing for once that she were in angel form. If she could've engaged her wings, her supernatural ability to move among physical places quickly, she'd already be in Bonaventure.
She'd tried to sit this one out, wrestled to respect Jamie's wishes to engage the enemy tonight, even if it meant risking his life recklessly. But the more she'd paced her apartment, thinking about Shay's sketch and remembering the visible pain she'd seen in Jamie's eyes back at the restaurant, the more she couldn't stay away. Not while he had some kind of crazy death wish because of her decision.
And what if he was right about there being a way for them to be together? There was at least the slim possibility, enough of one that she wanted Jamie to know that he shouldn't put his life on the line recklessly. And that he shouldn't give up on them, not just yet. They could study the lore together, read every volume, try to find a loophole.
She was almost to Bonaventure Road when a humming sound began in the car, the seat beside her instantly filled with light. She nearly swerved right off the road, unable to see anything because of Kiel's luminescence.
Thankfully, he toned his brightness down right away. For once, she saw him as he rarely appeared—more human. His warm eyes were the color of golden wheat, his skin like burnished bronze. His hair was an unearthly mix of red and blond and gold, the combination creating one of the mystical colors that didn't exist anywhere but back home.
"Sunera," he chided quietly. "You are nearing an abyss right now with James Angel. Dinner was not wise."
She shook her head, focusing on the road straight ahead. "Sir, he's in danger. Tonight. He's going to a demon battle, and when he spoke of it, I knew . . . I sensed . . ."
"This is what it would be like every time he went to war. You know, more than any human female, the danger he faces."
She glanced sideways in shock. "Are you saying there actually is some way I could be with him?"
Kiel gave her a bare hint of a smile, one that seemed to conceal a thousand secrets. "Even angels have free will, Sunera."
Being a lower-level guardian, Sunny still didn't know many things. There was so little that her superiors had taught her about her angelic nature, including the choices available to her. "Free will superiors had taught her about her angelic nature, including the choices available to her. "Free will to do what? I can't have Jamie—you've already said so."
"Free will to do what is right," her superior said cryptically, but she'd have sworn there was an odd sparkle in his eyes. "I tried to guide you down the easier path. But in your heart, you know what the right thing is. You've always known."
"Sir, sir," she cried, turning down the road that led toward the cemetery. "How can I know the right thing? You've told me he's off-limits, told me there's no possibility, but now . . . has anything changed? I'm confused."
"Faith is the evidence of things unseen," he said, quoting scripture. "Lean on your faith. Perhaps it will open up a new course for you."
She opened her mouth to beg for more information and guidance, but he was already gone. All that remained was a slight warm glow in the empty seat beside her. And two highly significant, meaningful words, a compass in the midst of her confusion: free will.
Jamie's forehead throbbed from a deep gash Thrastikas had inflicted with the chains. Blood dripped into his eyes, and he kept trying to wipe it away so he could see to fight. He and the demon had squared off, but unless Mace or Evan managed to free himself from the fracas and come to his aid soon, Jamie knew he wouldn't last long. The demon had tossed away Jamie's semiautomatic first thing, then managed to get hold of his knife and dispose of it as well.
So he was head-to-head with a particularly malevolent demon with nothing but his bare hands to use as a weapon. He assumed fighting stance, offering a prayer for strength and assistance. For several long seconds, the red-eyed demon glared at him, his ugly leather wings brushing together.
The appendages created an earsplitting sound, and the demon grinned in pleasure at Jamie's pained reaction.
"You've been a splinter in my ass for long enough, hunter," Thrastikas growled, and once again began swinging the chains overhead, allowing them to gain momentum as he ran at Jamie.
In a blur, Jamie was dragged to the ground, the thick, rusty links wrapped tight about his throat.
He gasped and coughed, trying to draw even a single gulp of air, but the force was too tight on his windpipe.
With both hands, he grasped at the chain, frantically trying to loosen the pressure so he could breathe, but the demon only tightened his hold, laughing viciously. Jamie scrabbled at the ground with his boots, flailing as he tried to fight back.
"A fitting end," Thrastikas taunted. "A torturous death for one who has tortured me for far too long. Now, like so many of my brothers have done by your hand . . . you will die."
Jamie gagged, still clawing at his throat, trying to get a bead on his comrades, but they were much too far away to help him now; he could hear them fighting farther in the distance. He was on his own, at least until the other hunters could dispatch the demon horde.
Everything began to grow darker, dimmer, and Jamie knew he was dying. Instead of struggling, he let his thoughts go to Sunny. Pictured her bright, lovely eyes, the warmth and care he'd seen reflected there. Her purity. Her sweetness.
That was what heaven would be like. Death would be like Sunny Renfroe.
Maybe he was dead already. The darkness suddenly grew golden and bright as a sun, the penumbra overshadowing Thrastikas. Jamie couldn't even see the demon in the blaze of glorious light. Heaven. He was already there, the transition far easier than he'd always imagined.
And Sunny was there with him! She stood in the center of the glowing energy, beaming down at him, pure love in her eyes. He smiled back, trying to reach toward her, but he remained prone and his body wouldn't obey. Of course not, he was only a spirit now, no longer a physical being . . . although it seemed he should be able to walk and move in heaven. Just as it seemed that his throat shouldn't hurt and burn so harshly and the gash on his forehead shouldn't throb still. The afterlife was a lot more painful than he'd expected.
Sunny knelt beside him, gently touching his throat, and the sharp pain dissolved. Then, with a light brushing of her fingertips against his forehead, that pain vanished as well.