Chapter 1
There are things she’ll miss about this desert realm, Ava decides, although she’s not quite sure what. “I mean, it’s a dry heat, I guess?” she’d told herself when she first arrived. She’d landed hard on her back on the sand, tilted a little onto her right side with one knee up, the sole of one foot burning against the grit beneath it. She was ripped through with divinium, too badly injured to do much but bleed and stare at the empty sky.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Ava had wondered what Lilith would do, now that her supposed savior was dead. Wondered how Yasmine would cope with her recent reassignment to the OCS, how many and what types of traffic tickets she’d rack up if Mother Superion kept making her drive. Thought of Camila’s grin, Superion’s evaporated scar, Vincent’s gross weaselly face, Jillian Salvius’s puzzled-but-persistent expressions as she worked to untangle all of this.
But most of all, she’d thought of Beatrice. Not just because Bea had kissed Ava back, finally, after they’d been circling each other for the better part of forever. Not just because Bea had been the one (of course she’d been the one) to carry Ava to the portal, to set her down with uncalled-for gentleness, to lay her back into the unknown and send her away. Not even just because of the stunned, milliseconds-too-late “I love you” that had echoed through after Ava, just before the portal disappeared with a sound not unlike a zipper being pulled up. All of those were true, of course. But in large part, Ava had thought of Beatrice for a stupidly simple reason: she was always thinking of Beatrice.
She hadn’t stopped, either, not when a familiar form had leaned over her, sighed “Fuck, you again?”, and begun dragging her none-too-gently over the sand. Not when she’d passed out, not when she’d woken up in a glow of light, not during the excruciating extractions or the searing cauterization that followed. Not when her awareness had wavered and faded, not when she had jolted back to life, not as her strength had built back gradually, and certainly not when a booming knock on her door and a pair of shotguns had “invited” her return to training.
Even now, moments after Reya had yanked the Halo out of her in preparation for her return, Ava thought of Beatrice. Alongside the pain, alongside the fear, alongside the joy. Bea was where she’d always belonged: in their realm, of course, but also suffusing each of Ava’s breaths, acted out in every moment of Ava’s consciousness.
So when Reya told Ava to focus on where she wanted to return, there was no question. The calm, serious face. The capable hands. The passionate heart channeled in steady discipline. Ava was going home to Bea.
Reya nodded, held up a hand, and Ava felt a pulse wash over her only briefly before it started. This time, the interdimensional travel was less like walking through an open door and more like being thrown through a closed window. Everything around Ava shattered, reformed, sped away from and toward her all at once. Her head sparked with pain and nausea as she was flung forward, forward, forward—
Arms and legs windmilling, screaming incoherently, Ava phased through the ceiling of an apartment. She landed unceremoniously on something solid and intermittently pointy. She heard an “oof”—maybe a person? wait, maybe more than one person? – her head thankfully bouncing on a mattress. The initial impact had knocked the wind out of her, and she struggled to catch her breath. Where was she? What was going on? What the--
“What the fuck?” exclaimed an unfamiliar female voice, sharp in the dark, finishing Ava’s thought for her. Ava didn’t have much time to express her gratitude, though. Strong arms locked around her, and she was dragged out of the bed in a chokehold, feet scrabbling uselessly across the floor as her assailant removed her to a corner of the room. She felt a warmth around her, smooth skin against the small of her back where her shirt had ridden up. Flailing a little, she dug her fingers into the arm around her neck, felt more bare skin as she reached frantically behind her with the other hand. Wait, was she being choked out by somebody naked?
A bedside lamp clicked on, revealing a small, sparse bedroom. The bedsheets were in disarray, and an attractive, dark-haired woman in a state of undress sat up on the far side of the bed, blanket gathered around her, eyebrows raised in alarm. Had Ava not been restrained by the arm cutting off her airflow, she might’ve nodded appreciatively as she took in the stranger. Wouldn’t kick her out of bed for eating crackers. I mean, come on, I’m moments from unconsciousness, not dead, she narrated internally.
Deciding she should probably do something about that (the unconsciousness, not the sexy stranger), Ava quickly stomped on the foot of the person behind her, shoved a hand between the arm and her neck, and yanked the arm down by grabbing her own hand and pulling forward. Her upper back felt like it was on fire, but she had more pressing worries to attend to at the moment. She spun out of the attacker’s grasp, ducking low to avoid any incoming punches, and glanced up, arm already raised to block the roundhouse kick coming at her face. In the moment before the kick connected, she locked eyes with the assailant, and something more powerful than even the Halo surged through Ava’s chest--
“Ava?” Beatrice gasped, spinning a little off balance as Ava blocked her. She dropped to her knees to join Ava on the floor, her eyes wide, staring in disbelief. Bea wasn’t totally naked, but damn, did she make a bra, a pair of boxer briefs, and nothing else look good.
“You know her?!” the stranger shrieked in the background, but Bea didn’t respond, focused only on Ava.
“You’re . . . back?” Bea murmured, hope and distrust warring in her eyes. “You can’t be . . . back . . . ?”
Ava slid forward, ran her fingers into Bea’s hair, and kissed her soundly on the mouth. “I’m back, baby,” she murmured, biting Bea’s lower lip gently, feeling Bea rise against her, push her tongue into Ava’s mouth, pull her closer. Bea kissed like a goddamn warrior, of course, powerful and intent and hungry, like she was the one who had just returned from hell, like she’d thought she’d never see Ava again, like she’d fought through every possessed cult member the world could hold to get here. Well, yeah, not too far from the actual truth, was it?
Desire swept through Ava, stealing her breath just as surely as the fall through the ceiling had. Ava traced her hands down Beatrice’s sides, enjoying the new sensation. She felt Bea’s shudder resonate in her own chest. She was going to kiss Beatrice for the next eleventy billion fucking years. She was going to touch-- no, caress-- every glorious inch of her body. She was going to sleep next to her every night until they died, and be buried in her arms, and they’d decompose together until there wasn’t even a way to tell who had been who, just a final sublime melding.
Ava pulled back briefly, eyes searching out Bea’s. “I missed you so fucking much. I thought of you every minute I was gone,” she breathed, low and intense. She could feel the words slamming directly into Bea’s heart, but the hard floor wasn’t doing her burning back any favors. So she rose, sliding back to sit on the edge of Bea’s bed, gaze never once leaving Bea’s face. Bea drew unconsciously closer to her, still kneeling in front of her, hands shaking ever-so-slightly as they rested on Ava’s knees.
“Ok, this is getting weird. I’m leaving,” announced the stranger, and Ava glanced back to see her hurriedly throwing on clothes. Hard to see why, what with how warm it was in Bea’s apartment. Ava’s shirt was already sticking to her.
“Um, please do accept my sincere apologies?” Beatrice managed sheepishly, directing her gaze to the woman behind Ava. “. . . Caitlin?”
“Oh my god, it’s Corinne,” huffed the woman in exasperation, pulling up her pants and wrenching on a coat as she rushed out of the room. Ava couldn’t help but smirk at the expression on Bea’s face.
Bea’s eyes shifted nervously back to Ava’s, seemingly not consoled by Ava’s amusement. “Well, jeez, don’t just let her leave like that. She’s hot,” Ava grinned, leaning back to watch the stranger as she made her way out. Oof. Her back didn’t appreciate the stretch. But Corinne was worth it.
“I heard that!” declared Corinne from the other room. “I don’t do . . . threesomes? Or whatever the fuck this is. I don’t remember if I gave you my number, but if I did, do not call me,” and the slam of the front door marked her exit.
Laughing, Ava turned back to Bea, whose face was frozen in horror. “Sorry I cockblocked you there, mate,” she smiled, imitating an accent she’d heard on TV in some other lifetime.
“English people don’t really sound like that,” Bea responded faintly, automatically. All her thoughts, all her questions, all the grief and longing of the past few years jammed up in her throat, bottlenecked into stillness. “You . . .” was all that emerged. “You . . .”
“Came back,” Ava finished, light-headed as she sat back up. “Bea, you know I’d do anything for you. In this life and the next. I’ll never leave you, not if I have anything to say about it.”
Bea’s eyes narrowed, then, and she sat back cautiously. “You did leave me.” Maybe she was getting paranoid, but it was certainly also possible that they’d all lowered their guard prematurely. What looked like a miracle could just as easily be a trap. Wouldn’t the real Ava remember leaving?
“Oh my god, I was full of dead-Michael divinium, it wasn’t like we had a choice! You carried me to the portal yourself!”
Nodding, Bea chewed the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. Ok, that was reassuring. But still, for all she knew, this was some evil trick. Adriel had been bad enough. She wasn’t eager to fall immediately into Reya’s clutches. Michael had considered Reya divine, sure, but blindly accepting the perception of an elementary-schooler brainwashed over decades didn’t seem wise.
But Ava. Could this truly be Ava? Maybe. Could it still be a ghastly mirage, a tarask in a mask? Maybe. Could it be Ava, but altered somehow? Maybe. Bea’s reconnaissance brain, long dormant, began working feverishly. She had to sort out what was real before she did anything else.
What was something that only Ava would know? Ugh, was there anything that only Ava would know? Adriel had been surveilling the OCS’s every move, through Camila, and if he could do it, presumably any old angel/god/whatever could. But if Bea could nail down something from the times Camila hadn’t been there, at least it’d be a quick way to rule out the involvement of the First-Born Children-- “No, before that. What did you say to me when I tried to crown you?”
“Right before I left? When you tried to steal the Crown of Thorns from me to trap me and keep me from phasing through the floor to kill Adriel?” Ava wrinkled her brow, confused. What was Bea doing, and why didn’t it involve kissing? “I told you to go live your life. I told you I knew what my job was, I was the Warrior Nun, we always die to save everyone else, blah blah blah. I even threw that thing you said about ‘everything’s different when you realize it’s not about you’ back at you. Why are you acting so weird?”
“And what did I say?” Bea inquired, blank-faced, not responding to Ava’s question.
Ava rolled her eyes, making herself a little dizzy. “You said you couldn’t just go live your life. You wouldn’t. Which, gotta say, I’m pretty stoked that you’ve moved past that. Caitlin—“
“Corinne,” Bea corrected. Couldn’t help herself.
“Ok, you totally thought her name was Caitlin, so go ahead and hop down off that high horse, Sister. Anyway. Corinne was super hot, and frankly, if you’re hitting up the bars, I don’t know who wouldn’t hook up with you, because I’ve seen you dance. I mean, if you hadn’t been married to Jesus all those times we cut loose in the Alps, I don’t know what I would have done.” Ava paused, her tongue starting to feel a little thick. “What’s the story on that, by the way? ‘Cause I don’t know where we are, but it’s definitely not Cat’s Cradle, and you were pretty clearly in the middle of a one-night stand. Besides, I don’t see a single habit in that closet.”
Bea shook her head, waving away the question. “What did you do? Before you phased through the floor. What did you think was going to be our last interaction?”
Ava’s face fell, sending Beatrice’s stomach plummeting down with it. “Bea, I don’t know what’s going on here, but do we have to do the whole replay right now?” She exhaled, somehow hot and cold all at once, exhaustion catching up to her now that the adrenaline of the fight was fading. Her back hurt, her shirt was all gross and wet, she’d just finished traveling between dimensions, and Bea wasn’t kissing her anymore. Revisiting the horrible past was not high on Ava’s to-do list at the moment. “You don’t know how many times I’ve already relived that last day. Last month. Last year. My whole second life. Thought about what I could have done differently, how I could have saved Michael, how I could have saved you.”
“Saved me?” A painful sensation wrenched its way through Beatrice’s chest. That had never been Ava’s job, but she’d done it anyway. How could she think she hadn’t?
“From this. From watching Michael die, and having to put me through the portal. From always looking over your shoulder. From expecting betrayal. From even your prayers being stolen. I mean, it seems like you still don’t even know if you can trust your own . . .” Ava’s breath hitched. How was she going to fill in that blank? They’d had a couple years, sure, but somehow never enough time, not until it was already too late for titles. “Your own . . . Ava?”
Swallowing, Beatrice reached out, settled a hand gently on Ava’s. “My own first love,” she supplied, willing her voice steady. “That’s what I’ve been telling people. When they ask. But it’s not just that.” Her eyes betrayed her, joining Ava’s in brimming over, and she hated the wobble that kept working its way in to her voice. “My own soulmate, I suspect.”
Bea cleared her throat, then, forcing her focus back to the mission. Sure, her innards had all liquefied the moment she’d seen Ava, and not holding her this very second was sending physical pain through the middle of her. But Sister Beatrice operated differently. “Which is exactly the trusted person, or exactly the trusted form, that a dimension-hopping Adriel or a meddling Reya would love to use to infiltrate the OCS. You have to understand that I want you back so desperately, so passionately that—“ Bea’s voice cracked, then, and she took a breath before continuing. “That I could easily make a mistake. I don’t want anyone harmed as a result of my wants, and the resulting assumptions.”
Ava threw her head back, flopped it forward again, sighed heavily. Jeez, was it summer or was the heater just on full blast? She was cold-sweating, and her brain was fried, and she didn’t know how to get through to her military-tactician . . . soulmate? “Bea, it’s really me,” she continued, as softly as she could, her vision fuzzing at the edges. “Just me. I can’t prove it to you, and I’m sorry. Take me to Jillian, have her poke me. Keep me away from the OCS until she clears me, or forever, I don’t care. But please. Please. I can’t stand to be away from you anymore. The Halo’s gone, and I’m here, and I can’t stand to be away from you for one more goddamn second.”
Something in Beatrice’s chest snapped free, and she found herself moving forward then, catching Ava as Ava slumped forward in tears. Bea held her so close that Ava could swear she felt Bea’s heartbeat. Bea pressed her face to the place where Ava’s neck and shoulder met, hands pushing up under Ava’s shirt and gripping at her lower back as if to test how real this was, how solid Ava could possibly be. Shaking with sobs of her own.
Dizzy, Ava rested her cheek against the top of Bea’s head, circled her arms loosely around the (former, apparently?) nun. Words came into her mind, things like “I love you,” and “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay,” and “I’m so glad you’re here,” but none of them found their way out. All she could do was cry, and ache, and want. How had the want only gotten keener now that Beatrice was here, now that Ava was wrapped in her arms and her scent and what felt suspiciously like her whole broken heart?
She wasn’t sure how long they stayed there, clinging to each other, before Bea sighed and drew back slightly, bringing a hand up to touch Ava’s face. But her hand felt damp, and why was it sticky, and what was that metallic smell?
“Oh my god, you’re bleeding,” Beatrice realized, quicker than Ava as always. She was immediately on her feet and next to Ava, still supporting the (former, apparently?) Halo-Bearer with an arm around her waist. Her shirt was soaked through, wet and shiny with red-brown, and Bea didn’t like the look of it even before she pulled the shirt up to inspect the damage--
“Oh yeah. Reya ripped out the Halo right before she sent me back. Hurt like hell,” Ava commented. Her mouth was dry, and her ears were starting to ring, an odd feeling of pressure building. “But you’re a field medic, right?”
“Shit,” was the last thing Ava heard, and before she could tease Beatrice about her language, her vision blurred all the way out and she was gone, fading again into nothing.