Sweet Reckoning (The Sweet Trilogy #3)(81)

“A trusted whisperer.” The Dukes broke out into groans, and Rahab had to raise his voice. “Our Lord took the prophecy with the utmost seriousness, and you should as well!”

“Tell us, Brother,” Jezebet said. “Remind us once again of the words of the prophecy.” She leaned on the table and tapped a French-manicured fingernail against her bottom lip.

“The prophecy stated,” began Rahab, “that a Nephilim born of both an angel and a demon would be the instrument used for a treacherous end to our kind. It foretold that this child would send every dark angel into the chains of hell for the rest of eternity.” His eyes were savage, and my head began to spin. “This . . . infant is the prophetic Nephilim sent by God to rid the earth of us! This”—he dramatically ran a hand up and down my profile—“is the best that God could do in His moment of desperation!”

A loud racket of shouting and laughter rose. I waited for Rahab to tell the rest of the prophecy, but he didn’t. He only stood there looking smug. And then I wondered . . . did he even know the whole prophecy? The part about their possible redemption?

I glanced toward my allies, who were all sitting up straight on the edges of their seats. Kaidan looked ready. Kopano gave me the slightest nod, almost imperceptible. The intensity of their eyes on me was a push. It was time. A boldness took me by the vocal cords.

“There’s more!” I loudly interrupted the Dukes. “You’re all being given a second chance at heaven!”

I stumbled sideways to the floor at the force of Rahab’s backhand to my face. My cheekbone throbbed with pain. I’d forgotten how much he loved to hit.

My allies were on their feet now, and sudden fear shot through me for Kaidan. He was poised to fight.

Rahab stood over me, staring down with pure malice.

“You. Will not. Speak!”

“What are we waiting for?” cried Thamuz. “Let’s kill her! No angels to stop us this time.”

Shouts of assent filled the air. I stayed on the floor, watching to see how it would play out.

“Wait!” hollered Melchom. “What is she talking about?”

“Lies against our Lord!” Rahab said.

“Let Jezebet decide if she’s telling truths or not,” Alocer suggested.

Grumbles sounded, but nobody stopped Jezebet as she stepped gracefully onto the circular floor in front of me. I stood, and she grasped my jaw in the thin fingers of one of her hands.

“Speak,” she said, and watched my eyes.

I talked as loudly as I could with her nails digging into my skin, but I kept my eyes locked on her crystal blue ones so that she could sense my full honesty.

“There is more to the prophecy. God is willing to forgive you and take you back to heaven. But those who still choose to stand against him will be damned to hell forever, just as Rahab said.”

The room was silent as Jezebet’s eyes narrowed at me, but the whisperers above us shifted like storm clouds. She watched me as she spoke, loosening her hold and then letting go.

“She speaks the truth.”

The Dukes rose to their feet now, yelling over one another about this new possibility. I looked over at Kaidan, who watched the scene unfold with a keen-eyed steadiness. I then thought about Patti and Mariantha, and all the love I’d been given in my life. I’d been saved once from death at a summit. Who was I to doubt the same sort of miracle wouldn’t happen again? And if it didn’t? Then it was my time. Fear of death had no place in my heart anymore. I shed it, let it go, and allowed the confidence that stemmed from that freedom to pour through me.

“Thank you, Jezebet,” Pharzuph said, motioning her to take her place again.

Jezebet took one last look into my eyes, no traces of wickedness in hers, and then went back to the other Dukes. They were turning to one another, voices becoming more frantic and impassioned.

“What if it’s true?” asked Alocer. He looked toward his sons, who met his hopeful eyes.

“After all this time?” Melchom, asked in disbelief.

“Who cares?” Kobal, the Duke of Gluttony, shouted. “I’m not going back there!”

“Why would you leave this out, Rahab?” Shax asked.

“I told you the entire prophecy as it was told to me.” Rahab’s patience was wearing thin.

I gasped as my head was yanked backward by the hair, pulled against Pharzuph’s body with one hand on my throat while the other arm circled my rib cage, pinning my arms to my sides.

“Who gave you this information?” he demanded.

I could hardly breathe the words. “A nun—a Nephilim descendant of the apostle Paul’s angel.”

“Impossible!” Rahab shouted. “We would know if there had been a descendant of old on earth.” But his tone was marred by his own doubts. The crowd was beginning to unravel, and he had to know he was losing them. He threw his head back and let out a freaky hiss, calling one of his whispering spirits down to him.

“Is this true?” Rahab asked it. “Was there a Neph of light?” Everyone was quiet as the spirit whispered directly into Rahab’s mind and he answered it out loud in return. “Oh, you didn’t think it was important? Really? An unsupervised angelic Nephilim? I don’t give a damn how harmless she seemed, or if she never left the nunnery! Get away from me, you insipid idiot!” He threw out a hand, and the spirit shot back up into the dark cloud of Legionnaires.