“Lucifer,” he hollered. “Let us go.”
Lucifer threw his head back as his wings curled and singed at the edges. The devil’s form grew paper-thin, caving in upon itself. His claws flexed toward Cam one moment, then curled and disintegrated the next. His mouth opened, and the wretched sound of mirthless laughter made Cam and Lilith wince.
Soon, his body shrank and faded, until he was nothing more than an infinitesimal black hole in the center of the ring of fire.
“Is he gone?” Lilith asked.
Cam stared at the sky in disbelief. “For now,” he said.
Then an unholy din came from above. Lilith covered her ears. Cam looked up at a charge of demons, a stampede of fallen angels, black as the soul of midnight, rocketing through the sky. They headed for where the devil had just been, led by Roland’s mottled black-and-gold wings. Cam had never seen such wild heedlessness as appeared on Roland’s face.
“Which way did he go?” Roland said.
“Into darkness,” Cam said. “Like he always does.”
Arriane slung an arm around Roland. “Ro, will you marry me?” Then she blinked and shook her head quickly. “Don’t answer that. It was the thrill of victory talking. Forget I said anything.”
“What’s this all about?” Cam asked Roland, pointing at the army behind him. “What are you doing?”
The demon raised a dark eyebrow. “I’m going after Lucifer.”
“What?” Cam asked.
“The revolution has been a long time coming. You know that better than anyone.” He nodded at Lilith, then reached out to shake Cam’s hand. “Hey, brother?”
“Yeah?”
“Check your wings.”
Cam glanced to his left, then his right. His wings were thickening, spreading, leathery pieces of them sloughing away as strong new filaments grew in. The charred bits flaked and fell away.
And underneath, Cam’s wings were white.
Only here and there at first, but it was spreading. He stretched out his arms, reaching for the stars, and beheld his transformation. Within moments, his wings had been restored. Not to the legendary golden glamour to which he had grown accustomed, but to their original incandescence. White. Strong. Brilliant.
Allied to nothing but love.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Cautiously, he touched his hair—thick and lustrous again. His body had returned to its lithe, muscular form, and his skin was smooth and pale once more.
He held his breath as Lilith touched his wings. She ran her fingers over their ridges, flattening her palms against them, her nails dancing up to the most sensitive tissue just behind his neck. He trembled with pleasure. Everything seemed limitless.
“Cam,” she whispered.
“Lilith,” he said. “I love you.”
Suddenly, the whole world went white. Cam felt pressure around his body, and then his feet touched down on the ground.
He and Lilith were back in the food court where Cam had first made his deal with the devil. Someone had cleaned the place up, taken out the trash, restored the burned-out food-court signs. Lilith gazed around her. Cam could tell she recognized Aevum but wasn’t exactly sure how.
“Am I dreaming?” she asked.
Cam shook his head, took her hand, and sat down next to her at the nearest table. There was a brown tray on its center. A snow globe sat on top. Both of them gazed into it and saw the burning ruins of Crossroads.
“I think you just woke up,” Cam said.
His mind traveled to Lucinda and Daniel, and he thought he knew how they might have felt in their last moments as angels, after they had finally made their choice and before they started over.
“I always knew there was something special about you,” Lilith said. “You’re an angel.”
“A fallen angel,” Cam corrected her. “And I’m yours.”
“Everything we knew is behind us.” Her eyes were tinged with sorrow at the life she’d left behind, but her smile was full of hope. “What happens now?”
Cam leaned forward and kissed her softly. “Oh, Lilith. We haven’t yet begun.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
With special thanks to Rod Bryan, Barry Poynter, Emma Angeline Branch, Alex Piazza, Brooks Tipton, Ben Hubbard, Jill Johnson, the Bass family, Madelyn Albright, and Chevy Impala.