“You have suffered,” Grim said quietly. “And so have the many souls I’ve claimed because of your hand.”
She laughed bitterly. “And I do not regret a single thing.” She glanced down at me. “Well, maybe just a few things.”
I jolted and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I’m your daughter.”
Her face tensed. “Then honor me.”
“I can’t,” I whispered, choked. “Not if honoring you means millions of people will die.”
“Then we are done here.”
“So we are,” murmured Grim.
The wall of flames returned with a thunderous pop, and then we were no longer there. We were back at the bridge, and Grim released me. I stumbled away from him, to the wall.
I stared down at the water for several moments, feeling nauseous and...and heartsick. There was a wound there, one I’d spent the better part of my life ignoring or pretending wasn’t a big deal, but it was and it did hurt. No matter what Lilith was, she was my mother, and neither she nor my father had ever cared for me. “Why did you bring me to her? Other than to prove she doesn’t and never has cared about me?”
“It might have seemed cruel, but you needed to see what she truly is, because it shows you what the Lilin truly is. Nothing will change either of them. No amount of rationale or negotiation. The Lilin must be stopped.”
“I know. I didn’t need to meet her to understand that.” Weary from everything Grim had told me and from meeting the mother for whom I’d been such a disappointment, I faced him. I was done with this. “I want Sam’s soul. You can release it, so it can go where it’s supposed to, and I will stop the Lilin. But I want his soul released.”
Grim stared at me, his expression apathetic. “I cannot do that.”
Prepared for that response, I clasped my hands together to keep from swinging and discovering how easy it would be for Grim to take me out despite my newly discovered immortality. “Please. He doesn’t deserve this. Please. I’ll do anything you want me to do.”
“You should never offer such a bargain to anyone.” His gaze held no cruelty, but I shivered nonetheless. “Especially not me, because I may request from you something you are not willing to give.”
The shiver hit me again. “I have to do this for him. You don’t understand. Sam was a good person—a truly good person. His soul was nearly pure. He doesn’t deserve an eternity of being tormented.”
“I do not disagree, but there is nothing I can do.”
My hands started to shake and I separated them. “No. I know you can. You control the souls that have passed. You’re the—”
“I know what I am, girl, as I told you before,” he snapped, the passivity in his expression bleeding into irritation. “And I know I cannot release what I do not have.”
Frustration poured out of my voice. “Then who has his soul? Who do I need to beg? Because I will.”
“You do not understand.” Grim shook his head, almost sadly. “His soul is no more. Can you comprehend that? Despite what Lilith said, what you are and what a Lilin is are two very different things.”
“What?” I whispered, my heart suddenly beating too fast. I understood what he was saying, but I wanted to be wrong. I needed to be wrong. My lower lip trembled. “Where is his soul?”
“The Lilin consumed it, girl. You know that. How else could it take on his form or any other? When the Lilin consumes a soul, it is not the same as stripping it. That is why any Lilin, even only one, is so incredibly dangerous.”
Horror swamped me. No. No. No. I didn’t know this. There wasn’t a Lilin-handling manual that explains these things. I’d assumed that there would still be some part of Sam’s essence that would’ve been sent to Hell. I had assumed that the Lilin’s ability was like mine. I hadn’t allowed the idea of anything else to cross my mind.
“Are you...?” I could barely get the words out from around the ball of bitter emotion forming. “Are you telling me there is nothing that you can do?”
“There is no soul for me to release,” he answered quietly.
“Oh God.” I closed my eyes, turning away as raw pain and disappointment took my breath away.
It wasn’t fair. Not at all. Sam had never hurt a single person and now he just... Ceased to exist? Some would argue that was better than an eternity of torment, but to me, it was worse. That everything Sam had ever been, all that he had ever done, simply did not matter. He was gone, nothing left of him in this world or any other, and that was so wrong.
And what in the world was I going to tell Stacey? This—this would destroy her, but how could I lie, knowing what I knew? But I’d rather shoulder that burden than have her carry that knowledge.
“I didn’t say there was nothing that could be done.”
My eyes shot open and I spun toward him. “What?”
“The Lilin consumed the soul, and that soul is in him, along with any other souls he’s consumed. All is not lost.”
For a second, I didn’t dare breathe, and then I lost it. “How about starting the conversation off with that instead of letting me think he was simply just gone!”
“How about you watch your tone,” he replied tartly.
Every ounce of my being wanted to rage against him, but I forced myself to calm down, because he held all the knowledge. “I’m sorry,” I pushed out. “It’s just that Sam is important to me.”
Grim arched a brow. “I can see that.” Folding his arms across his chest, he eyed me with stark intensity. “You and I want the same thing. You want to free Sam’s soul and I want the Lilin stopped. I believe this is what humans would term two birds, one stone. Kill the Lilin. Sam and every other soul he’s consumed will be freed.”
“Done.” Not a second of hesitation.
“Be warned that it will not be so easy. Souls don’t last indefinitely, trapped like that. I’ve never heard of one making it past a handful of months,” he said. “Time is of the essence.”
Sam had been gone for a while. “Is it too late for him?”
“No,” he answered, and I took his word for it, because he was who he was. “But you do not have long. For a variety of reasons.”
I nodded, not only grasping onto the hope that I could still help Sam find the peace he deserved but fully understanding that the moment I got topside, I needed to find the Lilin.
“Do not fail in this. It is not just your friend’s soul at risk,” he added, and a blast of icy wind beat back the oppressive heat. “If the Lilin continues unchecked, the Alphas will step in. They will eradicate all the demons and Wardens topside, and if that happens, Hell will have to retaliate. There is no way Hell could stand aside and allow it. The Boss will release the four horsemen.”
I swallowed hard. “I guess you’re not talking about the Kentucky Derby kind of horsemen?”
“No.” He didn’t sound amused. “They will ride, and they will bring about the apocalypse. Billions will die, Layla, and the earth will be laid to waste. Only Lilith and the Lilin could truly want that. Not I. Not the Boss or the Big One in the Sky. None of us want that, because all of us will go to war.”
“No pressure or anything,” I murmured, sighing. “I’m just stopping the apocalypse.”
His lips twitched into a grin, but it was gone so quickly I might’ve imagined it. “Unlike your mother, I have faith in you, Layla. But remember one thing. Everyone pays a price in blood in the end.”
nineteen
BAMBI AND ROBIN were returned to me right before I stepped back into the significantly cooler hallway. The moment they’d appeared, they’d started bickering with one another. About what, I wasn’t sure, because I was consumed with everything Grim had told and showed me.
Overwhelmed, I didn’t feel the familiars resume their animal forms and attach themselves to me, or really remember much of the walk back to the elevator or the trip topside. My thoughts were still swirling around in a vicious circle when the elevator doors slid open once more.
Gleaming amber eyes met mine, and before I could say a word, or tell him how relieved I was to see him, Roth was in front of me. Barely restrained fury tightened the lines of his face as he stormed into the elevator.
“Have you been hurt?” he demanded.
“What? No.”
“Injured in any way that I cannot see?”
When I shook my head, some of the tension, if only a teeny amount, faded from him. I started to raise my hands. “I—”
My words ended in a squeal as he lifted me off my feet. Within a second, I was swinging through the air. I grunted as my midsection hit his shoulder. Out of instinct, I grasped the leather belt around his hips. He pivoted around and the elevator whirled as he stepped out in the lobby.
“Roth—”
“Don’t,” he growled.
My grip tightened as he stalked forward. “Put me down!”
“Not going to happen.”
He turned toward the hall leading to the stairwell and I lifted my head. The lobby was empty with the exception of Cayman. He was by the couches and chairs, and his usually handsome face was marred with a variety of purplish and red bruises.