Disclaimer: Not my story.

Let me be the first to say I hate an unfinished story. I can remember reading through hundreds of chapters just to be left with a cliffhanger that was last updated two years previous. I really hated those days. When I realized I was becoming one of those authors I decided to do something about it. I sincerely wish I could commit to the time to finish this story the way it deserves to be finished, but I can't do that. Between me starting grad school, my own writing, and well my real life it's just not possible. I wish I could change that but aside from giving up sleeping, I can't. I hate to say this, but it's the truth.

I'm giving you all the rest of the story in one big lump. To keep this brief, I write out of order, so there are passages that are fully fleshed out. However they have no links and there are dropped plot lines in between. So I have filled them in with simple explanations of what happened (these will be in italics). I know it's not ideal. It's not what I intended to do when I started writing the Forgiver. But it's the only way I can give you all an ending.

So to all of you who have reviewed, added this story to your favorites, or have read this series let me say thank-you for all you have given me. The strength to continue writing, to tell stories that are off the beaten trail and more importantly for putting up with me and my lackadaisical updating, you all have given me so much and I feel horrible this is all I have to offer in return.

I bequeath unto you the end and an invitation that if you felt I haven't explained something fully or you simply have a question to PM me or simply leave a review and I'll answer in another review.

Cheers!

~Eb

At dinner with Sky, Oliver, Jack, Cam, and Ara: dinner goes quite splendidly much to everyone's amazement. Sky and Jack both begin to see how this strange family dynamic might actually work for them.

Stephen goes to help Dylan who wants to save Bliss. Dylan has a plan and that plan is to get close enough to talk with the remnants of the angel that makes up Bliss. He figures if he can tap into that he has a shot at bringing her back. But like anyone going up against someone possessed by Satan, Dylan's scared. He thinks he's talked himself in too deep. They hatch a plan to try and save Bliss by accepting to be part of a fashion show she's casting.

Sky goes back to work, but a meeting with Jack sends her back into a memory she'd rather stayed forgotten.

(since I'm italicizing everything else the memory will be normal)

It was dark, the curtains were open and a soft sea breeze played with the curtains. The salty smell of the ocean mixed in Ainsley's senses setting off the taste of blood. Her blood.

Something deep inside her was absolutely calm, while her outer nerves were set to panic.

Maybe it had been a mistake to leave the knife in the box. Especially given her current state. The need that laced through her veins when she was away from him, was replaced with the dull ache of bruises and fang marks.

Get up, her mind screamed, MOVE, protect yourself. Please it added quietly.

But Ainsley was tired. Tired of fighting, of trying to persuade this man of what he could be. Tired of putting up a fight that was getting her nowhere. This night it would end. And either way she would leave with the love in her heart.

"Ainsley," his voice was soft like silk and just as cold. "Why do you fight this?"

He asked this question every chance he got. Why did she resist? Why did she flinch when he came near? Why did she cause herself pain?

Because, she thought, you are not the man I wanted you to be. What you are doing is wrong, is not who you are.

Isn't it though? Her mind whispered. He is darkness, he may resist and have had angelic strength to resist once but her hold on him is weakening…

She swallowed, "Fight? Who said I was fighting anymore?"

"Giving up not your usual tactic." He trailed soft fingers through her hair and down her neck. Under the touch, every nerve ignited in fire. He was a drug on her system clouding her mind making it impossible for her to think straight.

"Lack of resistance is not surrender," she replied trying to clear her head. Thoughts muddled, refused to make sense.

"Then what is it?"

"A question."

"What an interesting predicament."

"Is this the way you truly want to live?" She asked rolling over to face him. He smirked at her, those eyes going deep grey.

"It is the only way to experience life," he said mere inches from her face.

She reached up a hand and traced the lines of his face. This was what she loved. Ainsley could lie to herself and say that she loved what he was…what he had been. The darkness, however, would always be etched into his soul. Woven into the very fiber that made Abbadon. Her slim fingers traveled the lines on his face, this was what she had chosen. She could not have one without the other.

It was important to see this, this, was what she needed to see. It was easy to talk of love when things were good. When the sun shown bright and light flooded their world, but when night came and with it, its' tempting shadows, light and righteousness waned.

"I love you."

"Ainsley, you are foolish, love," he smiled a half smile that tore at her heart. He stalled her hand with his own. Pulling if off his face his eyes went dark.

"We are all fools in love."

"You fancy this as love, it is a side effect, beautiful, yes," he added a kiss to the inside of her wrist. "but this is not love."

"Then what would call it?"

"Need, lust, you."

"Is that all I am?" She asked with drawing her hand from his grasp.

"You are special Ainsley you hold up so well."

"It's rude and very un-gentleman like to talk about others when I am here."

"I am no gentleman."

"No," she agreed freeing her other hand. "You are man haunted by his own nightmares."

He dropped her hand and backed away looking at her with a new set of eyes, "What did you say?"

"Your nightmares are your own."

"No, you—"

"I changed my mind," she sat up oblivious to all pain, "I would rather be here like this, than spend eternity away from you. If this is who you are then fine, I will fall gladly, and pledge my life, my soul, and my sword to your dark lord and master." Ainsley sat up, she was not going to make this pledge lying down. If she betrayed her very nature she would do so on her feet.

"No." He grabbed her hair pulling her up so that her head was bent at an awkward angle. She was forced to look up at him, and she did so with no fear in her eyes, but she sensed it in him. The emotion radiated from him like warmth from the sun. "You are a liar."

"If this is your choice-" The hand came up quicker than she could have imagined. The sting left her even more broken. Tears formed in her eyes and she pushed them down. "Then I will accept it," she continued resolutely ready to step off the cliff and plunge herself into darkness. "And I—"

He pulled her off the couch and she allowed herself to be drug across the wood floors.

"You are not her."

"Is it that hard to believe?"

"She would never give in."

"Perhaps it is not giving in just the acceptance of what I am hiding."

Blow. Ainsley took a steadying breath.

"This is not your curse."

"No."

Smack.

"Show me."

She glared up at him defiantly calculating her next move. "Fine," she said quietly and before he could respond, she brought her fist up to meet his face. The blow forced him to let go of her hair. Ainsley regained her balance, and stood over him, the angel did not stay down long. She easily dodged his swinging arms. "You're getting rusty Abbadon or do you have a problem hitting a girl when she fights back?"

He made a kick for her and she grabbed his foot twisting it sending him rocketing to the ground where he landed with a sickening thump. The move was good but it sent flames of pain through her body, there was not much time left. She leaned down, "There, proof enough?"

"No."

Crack, she felt her bones buckle, one more and they would break under the blow. She was back up as he sprung to his feet. He reached for the sword in his pocket and it lengthened in his grasp. "How does this go again?" he taunted, swinging the blade in his hand. They circled around each other, she needed a weapon, damn her inability to take the one when she had the chance.

"Who's in control now?"

"Not you."

He smiled darkness shining in his eyes.

"You refuse to see the truth."

"And you are blinded by your fear."

He made two slices through the air which she ducked, the third and final slice catching her ribs. She hissed as the blood soaked her dress. He was better with a blade than in hand to hand but she could do this. Blocking her mind against the pain, Ainsley concentrated on what was in front of her.

"Fear, what do you know of fear?" he asked.

"You've taught me a lot about fear and pain."

She stepped back breaking the circle pattern, he followed her. Yes, she thought, keep thinking you are in control.

He smiled again and it sent shivers down her spine he lunged she side stepped the blow grabbing his sword hand swinging it down and behind his back.

"You were always so easily led," she whispered in his ear. The sword clattered to the ground and Ainlsey kicked it away. He pulled away from her and she released him the fight was over. She backed away feeling better.

"Go on," he taunted, "finish it."

"No, if you are looking to be punished go find Azreal, I'm not here to be your keeper."

"Then what are you here for?"

"I love you."

"How?" he demanded rounding on her. "How can you love this?"

"Because I do."

He glared at her. "This you would claim to love me like this. Even Azreal refuses to love this part."

"Then it is her loss, because it is part of the Angel I love and he would not be that Angel without this part."

"I'm sorry, sorry." It was all he could repeat.

"I know, but I could have stopped it but I didn't. I love you."

"No not like this."

"In any light," Ainsley replied tipping his head up to face her, "I will love you." She bent down and kissed his forehead.

"How can I make this up to you?"

"You could tell me you love me."

He picked her up and spun her around the room, "More than the stars in the sky and the grains of sand on the sea shore, I love you."

She laid her head on his shoulder finally finding peace.

"Do you have to go so soon?" He asked as she closed her eyes. Time was slipping away.

"I'll be back," she replied tracing small patterns on his arm.

"Don't," he said stilling her fingers they were the lines of his wings that had once been tattooed into his back.

"You will always be an angel to me."

"Live, please I'll get a doctor."

"No doctors just sleep. Beautiful sleep. Will you hold me?"

But he wasn't listening to her, he set Ainsley on the bench. No, her mind screamed but she was gone. Ainsley closed her eyes content to fall into death. She awoke to the soft thud of the door.

"What—" Was all she could get out before someone grabbed her and pulled her off the couch.

"You couldn't leave well enough alone," A high pitched voice cooed. "You are perpetually a thorn in my side Orianna, and I am tired of it."

"You don't scare me." Realization sunk into her system. The fight was far from over. Her body responded instantly, choosing fight over flight and started pumping her system full of drugs to keep her going, to pull her through one final fight.

"Really?"

"No."

"How brave." A boot came down on Ainsley's arm and she felt the bone bend and crack. They always went for her arm.

"Ahh," she yelled, pain searing its way up her arm.

"Now who's in control?"

"You can't have him."

"We will have our revenge, it is already planned and certain all we need is to keep you at bay."

"He will fight you."

"He has already given in."

"No."

"You have just prolonged the inevitable."

"Go back to hell," Ainsley said through gritted teeth.

The person just smiled down at her and Ainsely felt her heart grow cold. This was not a normal person she was dealing with, this was not an angel or someone she could bargain with. The person before her was the complete and total embodiment of the devil.

"Shall I leave you like this? So beautifully broken?" It circled her considering its next move. "Or shall I leave something more memorable?"

"Whatever it is you best be quick or else you'll lose your chance," she replied trying to be funny even as her life slipped away.

She rolled over on her side trying to push herself up with her unbroken hand.

"Trying to fight? How quaint." It was amused but the last thing Ainsley wanted was to die at the feet of this scum. What she wouldn't give for a blade.

It allowed Ainsley to regain her feet, but the loss of blood made her head swim, where was Abbadon's sword? She saw the glint out of the corner of her eye, get it, her mind said.

"Made your decision yet?" She asked taking a step back.

"No, I enjoy watching you try and save yourself, it really is amusing to think that you can win now."

"I will, watch me." Another step, she felt her legs brush the couch, down, she would have to bend down and get it. That was going to be the hard part. Her time on earth was quickly expiring, focusing on the simplest of task was getting harder and harder. Spots swam in her vision the end was here.

Sit. Concentrate the creature was speaking.

"No comfort for the dying," it crooned knocking her to the floor, she hit the hard wood for the last time that evening.

Her right arm was on fire, the pain blinding, but the sword was within her grasp. With one last breath, she reached grabbed the sword and shrunk it so that she could swing it at the person's ankle.

It hissed in annoyance but backed up. "Feisty until the end. Perhaps I will take you up on your offer."

There was no time for a response.

"You did promise to pledge you soul," Ainsley pulled herself up with the bench she was fighting a losing battle but there would be more blood tonight. "You still think you can win?"

"No."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

"That," Ainsley replied hearing the familiar clack of boots in the hallway.

The person turned it struck her but nothing mattered now. Ainlsey let the sword fall she fell to the ground there was something to learn from this situation. She closed her eyes and felt herself let go completely.

(end of memory)

Schuyler jerked into consciousness, sweating and breathing in ragged short gasps.

"Sky?" Jack asked.

"No," she snapped as he reached out to her. "Don't touch me."

He backed up and let Schuyler take her own time.

"Are you alright?" he asked still holding his hands up in surrender.

She shook her head no.

"Do you want something?" He made a move to go and call for her assistant.

"Why?" She looked up at him, her blue eyes full of confusion. "Tell me why."

"Why what?"

"I saw everything and I think I deserve and answer."

Realization dawned on Jack. He lowered his head and ran a hand through his hair. "There isn't one I have to give except that I fell again."

"That does not answer my question why did you fall?"

"I was tired, nothing was working I couldn't control myself, I needed to believe and he believed in me."

"I believed in you," Sky snapped, tears streaming down her face.

"And when was I supposed to know this? When the last time I spoke to you when you were not controlled in human form you told me you hated the sight of me," Jack said.

"It makes me sick to think that you needed this."

"I had no choice."

"That is always choice."

"Not when he is around."

"Especially when he is around!"

"I'm sorry, I can't be who you want me to be." Jack held out his arms.

"I never wanted you to be anymore than what you are."

"That is me."

"That is a part of a larger whole. You were hardly ever that cruel what happened?"

"I made a pact," Jack said finally. "He told me—"

"What could he possibly promise you?" Sky asked, cutting him off.

"You."

She took several steps back. "What?"

"He promised me you. That if I fell and served him I could have you. And so I fell and fell again."

Sky stared at him speechless.

"You wouldn't let me break my bond and then I was tired of waiting, of being good. You said that some day, but that day will never come. I wanted what I wanted and I made decisions that I thought would bring me closer to you."

"So you felt the need to…"

"I didn't know, and then when I found out I was disgusted with myself, if Gabrielle had not been there I would have killed myself. I would have gladly stepped into the black fire and died."

"You…" She was confused, her mind was going in ten different directions and none of them wanted to focus on the present. Schuyler saw her past, feeling centuries of training seep back into her bones, she had spent so many lifetimes on earth and even more time in Paradise. Everything was back, she knew herself.

But something else stirred in her blood. And that something fought for control. It tore at her memories, and clawed at her consciousness.

"I'm sorry, and if there were words I would say more but there is nothing else to say that I am sorry."

"No," she held up a hand. "I—I can't do this right now." Her mind felt like a television screen where someone kept switching the channels. She was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Schuyler held up a hand and walked away from Jack. Part of her wanted to tell him, to ask him for help but she wasn't sure she could trust him.

"Sky—"

"Stay away from me," she yelled, not caring that this was a place of business.

More pictures jetted through her mind's eye. Memories and lives that were not her own. Voices that wanted her in the passenger seat. Slumping against the high rise, vaguely in control of her body, Schuyler searched her pockets. Pulling out her cellphone she hit a button.

"Oliver," she struggled, "I need help." She gave him the address and managed to get herself up and walked into the Starbucks across the street.

When he arrived, Schuyler had consumed enough caffeine to keep her awake for the next century.

"I don't know what happened to me," she muttered.

"What's wrong."

"There are voices in my head." It was a whisper, as if she was afraid to say it aloud that it might just be true.

She watched Oliver pale; she did not need to read his mind to know what he was thinking.

"And they are not mine." That was it. She was corrupted but how? This was not just something that happened.

"Let's not be hasty here."

"I think something's happening to me."

"Sky."

"Please make them stop."

"What happened?"

"I don't know it started out with me my memories, but now, there are things in my head which are not mine."

"How?"

"I don't know. Make them shut up."

"Sky."

"Stop." She held up a hand to silence him the other was pressed against her head. What was going on? But nothing stopped no one would shut up.

"Too much coffee," Oliver said to the customers who were starting to pay them too much attention. "Come on." He pulled Sky out of her chair and out the door. She had not walked five steps before she collapsed.

The ramble of voices were playing tug of war over the control of her body. Each voice was a personality seeking to be expressed after centuries of being repressed. There was something wrong. Too many voices all clamoring for her attention for control for dominance. She held on to herself, clutching her elbow not wanting to let go of the realness of who she was settling over her, there were memories to follow all the way back to the beginning and with each new experience she felt better more at home, like each one was a garment and slowly but surely she was building an entire wardrobe. One name Orianna it held her attention it felt right.

Noises screamed at her, languages she couldn't understand the constant cacophony was enough to drive her insane. These voices were not hers they were not familiar.

Dirty, her blood felt dirty, that was it, something was innately off within her system.

All this time, Cam and Ara are ensconced in the repository sorting out history. The books Ara has sorted give clues to a history between Gabrielle and Ariand (Stephen) and Schuyler (Orianna) and Abbadon. By using references and such Ara and Cam safely plot the course of two twisted love stories. What they discover is that in each life where Oriana is concerned she is murdered, and it is never fully explained. They slowly start to cross reference angels who were in all of the places when Orianna died but are called away to the hospital where Schuyler is being treated.

"What's going on?" Dr. Pat demanded, when Oliver brought Schuyler in.

He glared at his aunt and laid Sky on the nearest hospital bed. "She's complaining of voices,' He said so softly he hoped he just imagined the words.

Dr. Pat wasted no time, she produced several padded restraints and began to methodically attach them to Sky's wrists.

"You can't be serious," Oliver started but fell silent with a look from the doctor.

"I can," she said pulling one tighter, "It will be easier, you will need to call Kingsley, this will shake the Coven." She fastened the last one and left the room. "Deeply."

Oliver paced the room, he knew his duty but this was insane. Damn it, he was angry, the emotion surged through his system, clouding his mind making it hard for him to think clearly.

By the time, Dr. Pat returned with several vials and a needle Oliver had calmed himself down, there was no need to be angry right now. There was a job to do and he would see it through with a steadiness that was innately his own.

Kingsley made one stop before going to the hospital dragging a person behind him. Whatever Oliver had told him he was not the one to handle this but Stephen, he would.

The room was already a hub when Kingsley entered the room, and all eyes fixed on his guest.

"Do it," Kingsley instructed his guest giving him a rough push into the room.

"You really are too kind," Stephen said straightening his jacket and taking up the space by the door. Composing himself before he set to his work.

"Now Old One," the Angel's patience was growing thin.

"Oh Old One is it, yes, that is exactly what you want to call me right now."

"Fix this, now."

"Or what? I will try but there is only so much I can do, we are both between right now."

"None of your talk."

Stephen went to the bed and sat down he studied the girl. Schuyler was out but there was no peace in her rest, she jerked about as if fighting some unseen intruder. She pulled against the restraints and muttered something in a language Stephen could barely make out. His looked darkened for a moment then he looked up, "Who put her to sleep?"

Jack raised his hand.

"Wake her up."

Jack released her from the spell and Sky's eyes jerked open and a perfect flow of French came out of her mouth.

"Stop," Stephen said but the personality shifted the girl jerked and was someone else. "Orianna I know you are in there so listen carefully, if I were to say I am the light that comes from the West seeking that which rises in the East what is your reply?"

Sky jerked again her face focused on Stephen's, her chest heaved up and down as if she was holding up the earth itself.

"I am that which comes from the East looking for the light of the West it is I who you seek."

"Good to know you are still there."

"This is strange." Her speech was jagged and labored. Schuyler closed her eyes as if something was trying to tear its way out of her.

"You can fight it. You have the power."

"It has too much—"

"Listen very closely to me Anna, it is inside you, created to keep you safe, rid yourself of this Abomination."

She nodded, "I will need help."

"Sleep well." He placed a hand on her head and sent her deep into herself.

"Undo her restraints."

"I think that is unwise," Dr. Pat said looking down her nose at the Old One.

"If you do not she will die when she wakes."

"What is she doing?" Jack asked.

"Every Old One who is sent to Earth is given protection from Blue Bloods. It cleanses the blood, rids it of need, of malfunctions."

"How?" Kingsley asked.

"You would need to take that up with God."

"Why?"

"I told the Most High that I would not send my friend to be the pawn of Angels ever again, if they were sent to Earth they were to be protected from the vices and whims of your lot." His ice blue eyes fixed on Jack. Hated seethed beneath the surface.

It was a power play between the father and the one who hurt his child. If a fight broke out Jack was sure he would come out on the losing end. "Why would she die?" Jack asked changing the subject.

"She'll choke."

Sky woke up and rolled over and threw up whatever was left in her stomach. It was unpleasant to say the least, like draining her entire body of everything. A hard restart on her system that left her with little to run on.

"Here," a voice said, helping her sit up, "It's not the best but I think it'll do." He hooked the bag of pre-packaged blood up to her IV drip line and Sky watched at the blood made its way into her system. He was right, disgusting, unnatural, but completely welcomed.

"Thank-you." She relaxed feeling the life source sink back into her body.

"Feeling ok?"

"Tired, empty, hungry. Lost so lost." She brought a hand up to message her forehead. "It's strange to be aware I usually am only half way here in human form but now. I remember. I know who I am I know what I am."

"I imagine, you want to tell me what your last meal was?"

"I went to see my familiar a couple of days ago but other than that nothing. Lots of sugar caffeine nothing unusual. Though I think the question Ariand, is what are you doing here and why are you my father?"

"Nice to see you too." He gave her a friendly nudge on the shoulder.

She smiled. "You're avoiding the topic." She stared at him in all seriousness smoothing her hair away from her face.

"You are too smart for your own good and you know it. Though I could ask why you chose to defect, you would leave the Old Ones and join the ranks of angels? Really?"

"Completely," she replied and for the briefest moment, her eyes flicked across the room to where Jack was leaning against the wall.

"I suppose I should thank him as much as I want to pound Abbadon's face into the ground," Stephen muttered so that Sky alone could hear.

"Your fatherly affection is touching."

"Say it and I will."

"I think I can handle it, thank-you," Sky said. She leaned back on her pillows.

"Just saying."

"You've been just saying for centuries."

"Still..." Stephen's voice trailed off.

"I'll be fine, I need to get out of this bed though, there is something I need to finish."

"What?"

"I must kill him," she said.

"Who?"

"My mission my angelic test, I will be the scourge of Silver Bloods and I will destroy them."

"Your mission?"

"And what is yours?"

"You know?"

"Clearly."

"I must succeed where once I failed."

"I didn't know failure was in your vocabulary."

"Only once."

"I'm sure it was not intended."

"Excuse me," Dr. Pat intruded as Sky tried to get up, "She cannot leave there will be tests."

"Check my blood there is no Abomination left."

"But how?"

"Long story but the cliff notes version says that once and angel over stepped his bounds and there was a truce struck in heaven that every Old One born would have the ability to withstand the effects of bites, that within their blood would be born that which will cleanse them of any affliction. I am no more Abomination than my mother."

"Prove it," the good doctor said.

"Very well." She stood and unbuttoned her shirt turning around she pulled up her hair and let them see her back.

Small lines of black ink followed the curve of her back, swirling infinity signs. The start of wings but not the end. She was still in transition. Small gasps were heard through the room.

"Where…" Dr. Pat asked.

"They are my wings, I am no fallen Angel I choose this willingly." She turned around and pulled on her shirt, "Though they are hardly complete they are my own."

"So are you…"

"One and the same Ollie, one and the same. Like seeing in whole new direction."

"Oh."

"I want to go home, now. Please."

"Yeah."

She held out her hand and he took it without question. Locking eyes with Jack, Sky shook her head ever so slightly, no, now was not the right time. But it was coming she could feel it in every fiber of her being. She needed him more than ever, it was why she walked this path she did.

So in the middle of all of this, Bliss is still trying to run a business. Her current project, and biggest money maker for the year, is to cast this up coming fashion show. But Satan/her father has other plans for the show. Satan knows that his plans always hinge on having Abbadon on his side, because he knows Orianna could follow him. Satan needs the man—er angel—power in order to defeat the heavenly army.

Bliss however really just wants her life to be somewhat normal. She wants her friends to be safe and the one she loves to be back in her arms. But she'd not sure she can stand up to it all.

Sky gets out of the hospital and Oliver takes her home. But she is no longer just Schuyler Van Alen, she is Orianna, Old One soon to be angel. Her mission to track and kill Satan starts in earnest. Oliver takes this cue as a sign for him to leave. He knows that his time with Sky was always a ticking time bomb and was never going to fully work. He stayed until she no longer needed him and then he left. Using the passport and such Kingsley acquired for him, Oliver disappears into the world.

Stephen and Allegra manage to have some alone time and we find out that Allegra feels responsible for Stephen's death (when he was human). That if she had just told the Conclave what she knew about Michael she would have save them both. What Allegra knows is that Michael was corrupted, not in the sense of blood, but corrupted the good old fashion way. Michael signed on, unknowingly, with the Bliss's father. This is how Bliss was born, because Michael was able to slip in the needed blood to Allegra. But Allegra thought she could save Michael but she couldn't and she left him. Stephen reveals that he knew all along what Michael was playing at and that he was there to help her free herself from her past and Michael.

Schuyler, still consumed by her hunt, notices and buries herself deeper in her work to hide her grief. This is her test, if she can kill him—or at least send him back to hell—her wings will be granted. If she fails then she will return to her life as an Old One.

Ara and Cam have once again continued to pick through the list of angels crossing them off carefully as they march through history. The list has shrunken considerably, but the biggest contender they have is still Mimi. They feel this is too obvious of an answer and continue to search. Through the process of looking at past loves go awry, they start to heal their own relationship. Cam starts to understand Ara's need to keep a secret that could destroy angels and she learns to accept the darkness inside of Cam.

Schuyler stumbles across the list Cam and Ara have made and realizes who exactly Satan is hiding in. She attends the fashion show in the hopes of getting some alone time with Bliss. Which she does attain….

Schuyler raced down the dark hallway in close pursuit of her target goal. She rounded a corner and met a fist to her face. Collapsing to the ground Sky felt her mother's sword fall out of her hand and clatter across the cobblestones. Blood splattered her face, and the blow made her vision blur.

"Tsk, tsk," a cold shrill voice said. "Here we are again. There are so many memories I have of being above you." The figure stayed in the shadows walking around the edges of the light. Sky's vision was cloudy and her head spun from the attack but her body was quickly healing. The hilts of her daggers dug into the small of her back reminding her that she had the upper hand in this case. However, it was not time to play those cards.

A hand grabbed her head pulling her up to the light, her sister's face contorting in a sneer. "Well, isn't this fabulous here it ends. No one to save you, no lives to come back, all done. Finally."

Sky spat blood her assailants face, trying to block out Bliss's face from her mind. Bliss let her go and before Sky hit the ground she had her daggers out. Closing her eyes she thrust the blades up to meet the soft skin of Bliss's stomach. They sunk home. Tears poured from Sky's eyes and Bliss paused, the demon releasing her.

"Sky…." Her friend said her body failing. Sky couldn't listen. She stood up as Bliss fell to her knees, and with a shaking hand, Sky slit her friend's throat. Blood the color of the calm sea poured out, and with it came the black stain that for so long had kept the woman hostage. Sky backed against the wall on her hands and knees to get away from the sight. Tears stained her face mixing with the blood. When the muck coated the ground, Sky called black fire down and watched it burn. Sobs racked her body but there were no more tears to cry.

"Sky," a welcome voice said. She let the warm arms wrap around her and she turned into his heat wanting to forget what was before her.

"Out," she muttered through her tears. She needed air. This place was going to suffocate her. Sky drew oxygen into her lungs but the needed element did not seem to make it past the lining of her lungs.

"Home?" She shook her head no. Not home she could not face anyone else tonight.

Sky woke up alone, in the middle of a large bed. Morning sun sprinkled over her shining through the locked window. Sky sat in the middle of the bed watching the world pass below her on the street. Life was why she killed her friend last night, so that she could go on, so that she could complete her life's work.

It still stung. It hurt Sky to the core of her being. A huge hole in her life that she wasn't sure was ever going to be filled.

"Coffee?" he asked holding out a plastic cup to her. She shook her head, no no more coffee, her head needed to be clear today. Her subconscious tried to tell her that nothing was wrong that killing Bliss meant riding the world of Lucifer. The rational did not help. "Are you going—" She nodded her head. "Is that all I'm going to get from you?" he asked sitting next to her on the bed. She shook her head and leaned in to kiss him. There was time yet before she had to go into the public world.

The sleek black town car pulled up to the church where Bliss's funeral was in progress. Sky knew she was late, she cast a look at her partner in the car—it was worth it.

"Stop," he ordered as she pulled at the large silver cuff, twisting it around her wrist, releasing her agitation.

She bowed her head, "I just….If I could—"

"It was always going to end this way."

"I know." A brutal exchange her angelic status for a friend. The betrayal cut Sky to the bone. Life and death traded for what—eternity.

The car stopped. "Do you want me to come in?"

"Only if you want to," she replied getting out of the car.

So she entered alone. The ceremony was in progress the sea of black spread out in front of her like a smooth slab of onyx. No white to honor the girl who had merely been possessed. The priest paused when she entered the church. Sky straightened the winter white jacket of her Oscar de la Renta suit and walked calmly up the aisle. Eyes, filled with anger, followed her progress. She was not going to shrink before them now.

Schuyler took the white lily from her hair and tucked it into the picture frame that held the visage of her friend. "May I?" she asked the priest who stood aside for her to stand at the lectern. "We gather here today to mourn a friend, a daughter, a sister. She lived a life that was split between her public duties to her company and the public that she loved and her private life that was riddled with pain and strife. But Bliss—" Schuyler faltered, "never let us suspect that there was anything below the surface because she loved us all. We," she met the eyes of the Committee holding their ancient gaze, "should honor her bravery. Not shrink from her weaknesses. She fought a battle for centuries and I pray she sleeps in peace. To the fallen may you one day rise."

With her head held high, Sky walked down the aisle of the church once more. Steps resounded after her, there would always be a scene when she was around. "You expect us to drop to a knee before you?" Sky stopped and turned on the toes of her four inch heels. Charles Force stood in front of her.

"No, I am not God. Need I remind you that attitude is why you are here."

"I am not—"

"You are fallen Michael, you have been stripped of your rank, you consorted with the darkness, and you disgrace the title Pure of Heart by killing an innocent."

"May I?" a voice came from the crowd. Sky shifted to see the man who stood up.

"Please, Ariand I think you can handle this. Try not to spill too much this is a church."

"Be happy," her friend whispered as she walked out.

"You as well."

Epilogue Pt. 1—One year later at Christmas time

Ara and Cam both walked down the hall each sporting a large bag on their arm. Snow clogged the window ledges and soft Christmas music played through the apartment. Cam smiled at Ara and she linked her arm through his.

"You have the tickets?" he asked.

Ara held up the two small folders, containing their pass ports and plane tickets.

"Excellent," Cam smiled and took his ticket.

They entered the main living room where their parents sat entwined on the couch.

"Bye, Mom," Ara called.

"Later, Dad," Cam followed. The pair made a b-line for the door.

Jack sat up, or at least tried to sit up it was hard with Schuyler laying on him.

"Where do you think you two are going?"

"Well," Cam started. "I'm spending Christmas with my mother in London and…"

"I'm spending Christmas with my Dad in an undisclosed location," Ara finished. "Sorry," she added for good measure. Oliver made sure Ara knew how to find him but that didn't mean he wanted everyone to find him. "And don't worry, my lay-over is in London and Kingsley is putting me on the following plane. AND I'll call when I get there."

"I thought we were spending Christmas as a family," Sky said.

"Well," Ara said, "we wanted to give you some alone time."

"Plus Mom wanted me to spend Christmas with her and Kingsley."

"You're mother—" Jack started.

"Yeah, Dad," Cam said. "It still freaks me out slightly too."

Cam dropped Ara's hand so he could open the door. Ara waved goodbye to her parents.

"Be safe," Schuyler yelled after them.

"You too," Ara called.

Epilogue Pt. 2—next cycle

Cypher Van Alen raced down the stairs of her parents lavish beach house. Her grandparents had moved the family originally from New York to California and now they were moving back. Cypher's mother was a documentarian and her father taught film. Her father had been offered a job at Columbia, so the Van Alen's were once again New York bound.

Her phone in hand she quickly fired off several texts to her friends. At the bottom of the stairs her brother sat on the only chair left in the great room. As twins they should have looked a like, but there were too many differences to say they looked alike. His hair was not as dark as hers and their eyes were two completely different colors. But twins and angels they were.

"Finally," he said, "we need to get to the airport."

Cypher snapped her phone shut. "Actually I have somewhere I need to be."

Her twin raised an eye.

"Don't worry, I'll be on the plane." She dropped a kiss on his head and bounced out the door.

The smoothie shop was nothing to write home about. A few people slurped blended fruit but paid little attention to her. A person sat in the back of the shop, dressed in black and for being in side he wore sunglasses. Cypher walked over to him and dropped into a chair.

"Hello," she said pleasantly.

The boy smiled. She wasn't fooled by his simple exterior.

"You seem to be settling in just fine," she continued. "I mean for a first time Old One you've got the facial movements down."

"You holding up okay?" the boy asked.

Cypher rolled her eyes. "I'm fine Oliver, but thanks for asking."

"And everything else?"

Cypher shrugged.

"You know what's waiting in New York?" he asked.

Cypher rolled her eyes yet again. "Look, I think Azrael is over it just like everyone else, after all she's got some new squeeze too."

"You enjoy being an angel?" he asked.

"Is that all you wanted to know?"

"Just making sure," Oliver said.

"I like it a lot. You enjoy your new job?"

"It has its perks." His smile widened.

Her phone beeped. She glanced at the message. "I have to go."

"Have fun in New York."

"Have fun wherever you go," she called back racing out of the shop.

Cypher made it to the plane just in time. She sat down and took her brother's hand.

And that's all folks. I know it's not the way you probably wanted it, but remember questions can be directed to me or in review and I'll answer them. Cheers and thanks for everything!

Eb