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  “What’s the expression,” The Adversary jeered. “Pride cometh before a fall?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Julia was clutching Carlin and Drew's hands, with Meredith and Nathan running up the hall behind them, when she felt it: a horrible bolt of pain in her head, so striking that her body lost all context, and for a long second she thought she'd had a stroke.

  When she got her senses back, she was leaning against Carlin. Drew was beside her, helping to hold both girls up, and Meredith and Nathan were beside them, looking dazed and supporting themselves against the wall.

  “What just happened?” Meredith whispered.

  Julia knew: The small space Methuselah had made for himself inside her head, inside her soul, had gotten a lot bigger. And the great mass of energy coursing through her...It wasn’t his anymore. It was hers, and it was in every cell. Awareness flowed through her, awareness of her own potential, of the conflict her power brought—would bring.

  And it was hers now. Only hers.

  “Julia?” Meredith asked, anxiously.

  “He did it,” she cried, and then she sprinted up the steep hall, her pulse racing with excitement and anticipation and the heady rush of Celestial power. Cayne had done it! He had really freakin' done it! Methuselah was gone!

  She was on the brink of shrieking with delight when the hallway abruptly ended at a collapsed doorway, broken and charred. Julia paused at the threshold, then stepped in.

  Her heart pounded like a bass boom as she glanced around the huge, dark area, her eyes coming to focus on one bright spot in the center of the room. A square beam of blinding white light, illuminating...CAYNE.

  When she saw him lying face down, charcoal wings collapsed around him in what looked like dried up mud, the first thought she had was that he'd killed Methuselah, so he would be tired.

  But there was something in the way his limbs were splayed. His legs seemed tossed out behind him, and his arms stuck out at weird angles. His head lolled to one side, and his wings were crumpled in a way she'd never seen.

  Ohno ohno ohno ohno ohno.

  He wasn't dead! No way could he be dead! Cayne had killed Methuselah! She could tell he had!

  Her eyes flew to the ceiling, the source of the light: a hole where the tip of the pyramid should be. Chills spread over her body. Chills upon chills upon chills, as she remembered all her visions, and the death in them.

  Julia's gaze flew back to Cayne, searching for his aura. Her stomach bottomed out as her mind argued with itself. It couldn't be; it was. It was almost totally gone.

  The silvery light was pulsing weakly, clinging to his bones as strands so thin Julia could barely make them out drifted up into the light; if she strained her Sight, she could follow his siphoned aura up, up, up—out of the pyramid, higher and higher, until it touched the heavens...

  Higher and higher until it spread out like spilled water, separating into strands that glowed with a brighter light: the net.

  There was no thought, no moment when she made a conscious choice. Later, she would remember dashing forward, her eyes on those familiar shoulders, those gorgeous wings. She would remember the beautiful-horrifying second when she grabbed at that power inside of her.

  ALL.

  THAT.

  POWER.

  It felt like a bubble bursting open, and she struggled to control it as she wove it protectively around him, trying to stop whatever was sucking his aura out, directing his energy up to the net. But she couldn’t stop it. His aura continued to flow upward, toward the net, and with every passing second, the bright light of the net became more tangled inside him, a thousand tendrils rooted in his very essence.

  “Cayne,” she moaned. She sank beside him, clutching his limp shoulders. His face was pale and slack. His aura was even fainter than before, and his many wounds weren’t healing even though she was doing her usual healing thing. Gasping for breath, she jostled his shoulders. “Cayne, you’ve gotta wake up! You’ve gotta help me!”

  His lips parted, a faint hiss escaped, and then, to her horror, he stopped breathing. Julia responded in a frenzy. She threw her energy into his lungs, forcing them to inhale, exhale, inhale. That was when she felt it: a tug from his aura, soft at first, then stronger, pulling on hers, asking for help. She gave it to him, pushing healing energy into his slowing heart, pouring it into his head, all through his limbs; she kept the flow going, and the room exploded in her healing light.

  A sound like thunder clapped as her energy melded with Cayne's, and she had the sense that someone, somewhere else was helping, was twisting them together and...tugging. Pulling. TOO HARD. In the work of a second she felt her aura shrink to almost nothing, and she realized that her energy was being siphoned off, not into Cayne but through him—up, up, up into the tangles of the net, and she couldn't make it stop. Oh, God!

  It's happening…

  She felt her body droop over Cayne's, her fingers curling, no longer able to touch his face or hair.

  From far away—so very far—she thought she heard her friends screaming, but the sound was getting softer. She was...losing everything.

  Almost...gone.

  And then she wasn't. Purple and gold streaked across her awareness, and a moment later, strong hands enclosed her wrists, hoisting her body up, away from all that heat, and she heard Meredith's voice, somehow sweet and lyrical, like she was singing. “Julia...”

  She felt herself tossed: for a moment free from all the pushing, pulling.

  Meredith had pulled Julia away from Cayne, but she wasn't aware enough to stop pumping healing energy out of herself. As Meredith's hands released her and someone else's grabbed her, her healing light trailed behind her like the tail of a comet, filling the room, igniting the air, and pure white fire was everywhere, burning out the hole at the top of the pyramid, burning toward Heaven, burning up everything in sight.

  It was the end of the world. The net was coming down—just like all her visions had foretold.

  Part Two

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Good grief.

  Someone was really freaking out.

  It wasn't her—at least she didn't think it was.

  The dark weight pressing Julia down began to ease; as her heavy eyelids fluttered, she caught a glimpse of Carlin a few feet out in front of her, hunched over and sobbing like the world had ended. She wondered hazily what her friend was so upset about.

  Lying on her back, Julia blinked up at the low, dirt-packed ceiling, shifting her gaze to see the upper half of a small, mud room about the size of a one-car garage. A bad feeling tugged at her. She felt frantic, like she was clawing at the walls of a cage she couldn't get out of.

  Where was she? What had happened?

  Despite the achy, week feeling dragging on her body, Julia lurched into a sitting position. It only took a second or two. A second or two to see Carlin leaning over something. To see Nathan sitting cross-legged beside her, hunched over, moaning and clutching at his short, brown hair. A second or two to glance to her left, where Cayne lay, pale and dead still, on his back.

  Only a second or two for her to remember: Cayne, the net, Meredith.

  Horror reared its hideous head as her mind spun out in front of her, processing that somehow they'd been tricked. The net had... And Meredith…

  Julia noticed Drew, kneeling beside her. She grabbed for his hand, capturing only his thumb in her clumsy fingers. “Drew...” Her voice cracked. She swallowed. “Drew—” she kept her eyes on Drew. Just Drew. “What happened to Meredith?”

  His eyes, when they met hers, were blood-shot. His lips pursed and, with a shake of his head, he scooted closer, blocking Julia's sight of everything but him. “Something bad,” he choked.

  Julia's heart froze, and she hated him for drawing it out.

  Hurry up.

  His eyes widened. “Meredith's...Julia...she's dead.”

  Julia’s mouth fell open, her follow-up—“How?”—lost in an involuntary wail.

  “J
ulia!” Carlin was there, throwing her arms around Julia, burying her face in Julia's neck and sobbing. Drew moved to put his arm around both of them—but Julia moved out of his reach.

  "Nathan," she wailed, whirling on him with her arms out, "what did she do?! I thought you were going to keep her safe!"

  His wet eyes flashed. "I tried," he said, his voice raw. "She wanted to save you."

  "Why didn't you stop her!"

  "Don't blame me!" he fumed. "This is his fault!" he snapped, pointing to Cayne.

  Julia saw red. "This is your fault you prick! We followed him back here, remember?"

  "Yeah, because he wanted to protect ME! From Methuselah! YOUR BFF! Who only had us in the first place because you kidnapped us!"

  Carlin had stepped between the two of them now and was slowly moving toward Julia.

  "Julia… Nathan. I believe Meredith made her own decision. This is The Adversary's fault. No one else's."

  Nathan glared at her for a moment longer before turning back to Meredith. Julia forced her tears away and knelt beside Cayne. "What's wrong with him?"

  “We don't know,” Carlin said.

  Julia touched his cheek, watching her hand as if someone else was moving it. She shifted her focus to aura mode, and noted the many places where he was hurt. Healing him was still automatic, but instead of getting rid of his knots, her efforts did the opposite. His wounds grew, their silver color deepening to sick dark green.

  Julia gasped and pulled away. She closed her Sight, then opened it again, trying once more to touch him. This time she focused on one wound, and a minor one: a little knot over his right wrist. She tried to gently untangle it, but the strands only wove themselves tighter.

  Breathing hard, she turned to Drew. “I don't get it,” her voice quivered. “What is going on?”

  Crouching beside her, he held his hand out, like he wanted to touch her but thought she might bolt if he did. When he spoke, the words came slowly. Carefully. “I don't really know. As soon as we got into that huge room, you tried to heal Cayne, and...”

  Julia nodded. She remembered that part. “But how'd he—I thought Methuselah was dead.” Her voice cracked as her thoughts got stuck in high gear.

  “He is. It was The Adversary...that, back there.”

  Julia’s heart was pounding, the room spinning as she stared down at Cayne. “No.”

  Drew nodded. “We only saw him a minute. He appeared after you and Cayne got all glowy. That's when...” Drew swallowed. Lowered his voice to a whisper. “Meredith came and—” His face crumpled, and this time he threw his arm around Julia, pulling her to his chest. “She pulled you off Cayne. She stopped you from continuing to get your energy sucked away. I think she must have felt that you...” He inhaled deeply. “She knew that you weren't doing well. She grabbed you and that’s when you...things kind of exploded, and...Julia, it's not your fault. It's not the fault of anyone in this room.”

  Julia was surprised to hear a keening sound come from her throat. Drew, now shaking from head to toe, stroked her back as she turned around toward the other side of the room, but nothing could prepare her for what was in front of her: Meredith's body, laid out on her back, with her head lolled to the side, a thin trail of blood coming from her mouth, and a deep red rash all over her skin.

  Meredith, sacrificed for her.

  She heard Drew say, “I'm sorry.” Saw him reach for her. Read the grief etched in his face. But Julia just couldn't believe it. She could heal Meredith! No one else here was a healer—that was it!

  She pushed past Drew and lunged for her bestie's feet.

  Julia didn't look to her friend’s face, cradled in Nathan's lap. She grabbed Meredith’s ankles and shut her eyes, willing herself to see gold and purple. Instead she felt like she might be sick. Where she looked for an aura...there was nothing.

  “No,” she mumbled, clutching Mer's strong calf. She shut her eyes, seeing painful flares over the auras of Carlin and Nathan. She glared at them, feeling rage bubble somewhere deep inside. Meredith could not be dead! Why were they acting like she was? Closing her eyes, Julia looked again for Meredith's aura, the beautiful purple and gold, and when she didn't see it, her mind stopped thinking. Feeling shocked and numb, she turned toward Cayne.

  His aura was still there, nothing but a ball of knots, but still there.

  Her mind raced: disbelief. She whirled to Drew, feeling like she was living in a thick gel. “Where is the Adversary?” she rasped.

  “We didn't see where he went...after. There was some commotion—”

  “Something was happening,” Carlin cried, waving her arms around her chest, like she was trying to explain something she couldn't put into words. “He was...building power! I don't know! He spoke, but we could not understand the language! The ground shook! We left!”

  Drew nodded. “We came back down the hall a bit. This room is close to the...to the big room,” he said thickly. He moved to Meredith's side, opposite Carlin, and took her hand, looking down at her sparkly nails. “We haven't seen him since.”

  It was simply impossible to believe. The net had come down. Julia was still alive. And Meredith...

  ***

  She thought she'd been crying for a long time when she felt someone shake her shoulder. Julia came up swinging, keeping her eyes shut tightly, because damnit, she didn't want to be back in that room!

  She sobbed even louder, and immediately, arms locked around her. She took one deep, half-sobbed breath and she knew: “Cayne!”

  His skin was hot and sticky, and he groaned when she squeezed his waist too hard, but he was there. Cayne was holding her.

  She closed her mind to the sounds of the world outside and clung to his beautiful, murmured voice like the life raft that it was.

  “Oh Julia... I'm so sorry... Shhhh...”

  He was gentle. He was perfect. He was alive and he was hers, but Julia wanted Meredith. All she wanted was Meredith.“I don't know if I can do this without her!”

  She clutched Cayne's forearms, and as she sobbed she dared to look again at her friend, lying so still on the ground, with Nathan's jacket folded neatly over her body. She stared at Meredith—at her hair, at her closed eyes, at her still mouth, at her blistered skin—and it still seemed like it couldn't be real.

  After an eternity, Cayne led her over to Meredith. Julia crouched down beside her head; she gathered Meredith's long, beautiful, black hair and pressed it against her cheek. Even after everything, it still smelled like vanilla and flowers.

  When she started whispering to Meredith, she felt Cayne scoot away, just a few feet behind her, and she loved him ten times more for giving her that privacy.

  It was only when she'd cried some more, and said some more, and asked why and said thank you and kissed Meredith's cool forehead, that she started to wonder where everybody went.

  “Cayne?” He was right beside her in an instant, looking tired but focused. “Um...where did everybody go?”

  She could tell by the way his brows drew together that she wouldn't like the answer. “We...heard some noise. You were sleeping. I had just woken up, so we couldn't leave, and so—”

  “So, spit it out!”

  “It sounded like a bomb,” he told her quietly. “Hellfire, maybe. I don't know. They went down to see, but I can tell you already... The Adversary's been through here, and whatever they find... It isn't going to be good.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  They could just stay put, or Cayne could see if he was strong enough to fly her out the blown-out top of the pyramid. He could leave her in the little room with Meredith while he went downstairs to the area where the rest of their friends had gone and checked things out, or—

  “Cayne, no way! We're staying together, and we're not leaving Drew and Car and—” She choked on the name she didn't say, then tried hard to push past it. She squeezed her eyes shut. “I can't believe they left us!”

  To her surprise, Cayne hung his head. He mumbled, almost too quiet for her to hear: �
�They didn't want to. I asked them to. I'm sorry.” His voice was low as his green eyes rose to meet her brown ones. He groaned, running his hands through his hair. “I'm sorry for all of this. For—for her," he motioned to Meredith, then looked away. "I was such a fucking idiot!"

  Julia, still holding Meredith's silky hair in her closed fist, shook her head. She reached out to touch Cayne's arm. “This is not your fault.”

  “Of course it is!” Cayne's eyes flashed, and he was on his feet, unsteady, weak, but unable to sit still. “Do you remember the Authority on the ski lift? He warned us that I was fated to kill you. But it wasn't an Authority. That was The Adversary! He started manipulating me, then, and he kept it up when I was in hell. I thought I had tricked him…" He laughed bitterly—an awful, self-deprecating sound that hurt Julia's heart.

  “He let me loose in Hell, and he had Edan bring you right to me. And I was so sure of myself I didn't see how easy it all was."

  He stopped pacing, panting with a pained look on his face, but he was too angry to stop his tirade now. “I killed Methuselah, and The Adversary used me as bait—for you! If Meredith hadn’t done what she did—"

  He stood there, shoulders heaving, breathing hard. Julia spread Mer's hair out beside her and got up, but as soon as she got close to Cayne, he thrust his arms out in a stay-away stance. “I'm sorry, I just—” He rubbed his face ferociously, almost clawing at it. “I'm so sorry. GOD.”

  He sank down to his knees and clutched his head. Julia knelt beside him. "It's not your fault," she whispered. He turned his head into her shoulder, and Julia was surprised to find tears soaking through her shirt.

  ***

  Leaving Meredith was one of the most horrible things Julia had ever had to do. As she and Cayne worked their way down the hallway, in the direction in which they thought they'd find the common room, Julia felt like each step brought her closer to breaking.