Rebel Angels 2: Echoes and Embers Page 5

  Her sexual appetite rivaled his, and he was Grigori, or had been until he Fell.

  He rounded a corner and hesitated in the archway leading to the cavern’s main chamber. A massive gray demon sat on Paimon’s favorite chair. She straddled his lap facing Enos, her legs spread wide and hooked around the outside of the gray demon’s thighs. Her long silvery hair spilling over her naked body concealed the details from view, but her steady rocking and the blissful expression on her face left no doubt what was taking place.

  “Shall I return when you’ve finished?” Enos grumbled.

  Paimon stilled and the gray demon growled. “How long are you willing to wait? We could be at this for hours.”

  Enos nodded stiffly. “I’ll report quickly.” At first glance Paimon still possessed angelic beauty. Her delicate features and lissome body belied the malice lurking beneath her appealing façade. It was only as you gazed into her soulless, black eyes that her true nature revealed itself.

  The gray demon’s tail coiled around Paimon’s thigh and disappeared under her hair. She gasped and quivered. “Please do.”

  Had she meant him or the gray demon? “I’ve located Catherine’s granddaughter.”

  “It took you long enough.” She leaned forward, her eyes closed in ecstasy as the demon did something beneath her hair that pleased her especially well. Expelling a shuddering breath, her dead gaze opened and locked on Enos. “I should have ended your miserable existence when you lost her at court. I trusted you. You cost me time I can ill afford.”

  “I will not fail again.”

  Her brows raised; the threat unmistakable. “You will not be allowed to fail again.”

  Enos inclined his head, not in deference, but to hide his annoyance. It served his purpose for Paimon to believe she controlled the situation -- at least for now.

  * * * * *

  Disconcerted by the trials of the day, Alyssa tossed in her lonely bed. Fractured images and scrambled memories swirled through her mind. How could she ever hope to make sense of the jumble?

  Sariel didn’t know enough about the other angelic orders to help her reconstruct her past. She needed Lailah to help clear up the confusion. Her need for Sariel was no less real; it was just very different in nature.

  The pleasure he had given her in the forest only whetted her appetite for more.

  She tried to remember details about the Order of Grigori, but nothing specific came to mind. Which order did she belong to or had she belonged to before her transformation? Again, she needed Lailah for the answers.

  Punching her pillow and rolling onto her side, Alyssa tried to sleep. She released her thoughts and allowed a soothing lethargy to overcome her.

  Hovering over Alyssa’s bed, transparent and intangible, Sariel eased into her mind. She drifted in a state somewhere between wakefulness and dreams. He guided her, gently influencing her thoughts, coaxing her memories past the barricade of lies.

  His desire for her burned more brightly than ever before. But he had to understand her unique nature before he allowed himself to act upon the emotions escalating within his being. In repose she appeared so vulnerable, so innocent.

  He knew she wasn’t quite as innocent as she seemed, but she was certainly vulnerable. Scanning her thoughts, he melded with her, leading her with subtle compulsions, allowing her to delve deeper than she could go alone.

  She tossed her head, sighing, mumbling words he couldn’t understand. An image formed, undulating in translucent flux before Sariel commanded it to solidify. Seven angels gathered on a hillside in the land of Nod. Eden’s eastern gate identified the location. Why were they gathered here? Who were the others? He recognized Alyssa and Lailah, but the five males were strangers to him.

  A towering blond male spoke with practiced authority. He appeared to be the leader of this gathering.

  “Aren’t you tired of the hypocrisy? They cast out Lucifer for the same sort of rebellion the humans indulge freely. Why was my brother punished while mankind is allowed to flourish?”

  Lucifer’s brother? Was this Ambrose, Prince of the Cherubim? That would explain the locale. The Order of Cherubim had been charged with guarding Eden’s gate to keep the mortals from partaking of the Tree of Life.

  “I was there that day.” The passionate voice drew Sariel’s attention to the dark-haired male standing at Alyssa’s left. His golden gaze burned with rebellion and anger.

  Understanding surged through Sariel. Rosalind’s favorite fresco had depicted this male. Gideon. Lailah had called him Gideon.

  “You were more than there.” Ambrose sneered. “You participated in the battle. You fought at Gabriel’s side!”

  “I did as I was commanded,” Gideon snapped.

  “You made your best friend Fall!”

  “Lucifer made his choice long before the battle.” Lailah insisted. “Placing blame won’t change the past.”

  “The truth is --”

  “Truth,” Alyssa scoffed. “Do any of us comprehend the truth? How are we supposed to recognize truth in the midst of all these lies?”

  “Perhaps my brother was right all along,” Ambrose muttered.

  “We have become slaves to these mortals,” one of the other males said.

  “No,” the male between Lailah and Alyssa said. “We are expecting to find justice and there is no justice in Heaven.”

  Observing the memory left Sariel shaken. He understood the cost of rebellion all too well. This sort of defiance was never allowed to fester, not after a third of Heaven Fell in the last uprising.

  As if responding to his thought, a flash of lightning rent the sky. Thunder shook the earth and the Rebel Angels closed ranks, forming a tight circle back to back in classic angelic battle formation.

  Michael, Prince of the Archangels appeared in front of Ambrose. Wings spread wide, flaming sword poised to strike, Michael waited for the others to face him before he spoke. “The stench of your dissension has reached the throne of God.”

  “You have no authority over me, Archangel. My order is more highly ranked than yours.”

  Sariel recoiled from the open hostility radiating from the cherub. Archangel or not, Michael commanded the armies of God.

  “I have whatever authority I am given.” With a forceful wave of Michael’s hand Ambrose disappeared.

  Time itself seemed to miss a beat.

  Silence descended on the hill.

  Michael turned to the others, gesturing with his flaming sword. “This little band of rebels is about to be dispersed -- permanently. You each have one chance at redemption, or you will be expected to Fall.”

  “You are going to grant us this opportunity?” The only male who had not yet spoken stepped forward. “I want nothing from you.”

  “Then nothing you shall have.” Michael waved his hand and the other angel disappeared.

  Lailah cried out. “Where did you send Caleb? This is so unfair. We did not create this conflict; we are trapped within in it.”

  “We are slaves to mankind?” Michael paraphrased, pointing his sword at the male who had first uttered the words. “I think, Nathaniel, you might benefit from such servitude.”

  “Stop it!” Lailah reached for Michael’s arm, but it was too late. Nathaniel disappeared. “How can you blame us for our discontent? There is no peace in Heaven, and life has lost its splendor.”

  “Life reveals its splendor in the most unlikely ways, Lailah. I pray that you will understand before it is too late.” With a sad shake of his head, Michael dispatched Lailah.

  “Are we all to Fall?” Gideon shouted, stomping toward the archangel. “While the mortals revel in immorality and violence, you will punish us?”

  “Whether or not you Fall is and has always been entirely your choosing. I am forcing nothing upon you.”

  “I thirst for their blood,” Gideon cried. “I want to feel it running over my hands and --”

  “Be careful what you wish for, Gideon, or I will give you exactly what you want.”

 
“Do your worst! This is madness.”

  “You must find peace within this madness or you will Fall.”

  “No!” Alyssa screamed as Michael dispatched Gideon. Her sleeping body jerked, jarred by the memory.

  Without releasing his link with her mind, Sariel solidified, pulling her trembling body into his arms. She clung to him, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her mouth moved forming the words she spoke in the memory.

  “Is this your game then, Michael? Twist our words to form our punishments?”

  “Punishments?” Michael paused, his expression thoughtful. His wings rippled subtly. “I choose to see them as opportunities.”

  “Opportunities for what?” the last male demanded.

  “Daniel, don’t,” Alyssa tugged on her friend’s arm, but he twisted away.

  Michael faced the last two Rebel Angels. “If there is no justice in Heaven, perhaps you can find it in the realm of man.”

  Daniel disappeared, leaving Alyssa alone with the archangel.

  Chapter Five

  Alyssa screamed, struggling against the arms encircling her. Memories, vivid and dreadful, pelted her mind like hail. “They’re gone. Michael sent them all away.”

  Trembling, she collapsed against the person holding her, sobbing helplessly. She wrapped her arms around his back, clutching his tunic.

  The hillside scene receded, leaving a vast emptiness within her soul. She had been angry and discontent, convinced her resentment was justified. If she had only known, if she had even guessed what awaited in the human realm ...

  Life as she knew it had ended that day. Her purpose for existence, her closest friends had all been forfeited to her rebellious spirit.

  A warm hand brushed her hair, tender lips kissed her brow. She opened her eyes and looked into Sariel’s gold-speckled gaze. Compassion and concern shone as brightly as the miniature constellations. She released her breath in a ragged sob. Pressing her hand against his cheek, she absorbed the comfort of his presence. She wasn’t alone. Sariel was here, holding her, protecting her.

  Sariel? What was Sariel doing in her bed? Was she still dreaming?

  The dreaded mists swirled, threatening to reclaim the ground she’d gained. “I must speak of what I saw,” she whispered, her voice raspy. “I don’t want to forget.”

  “You won’t forget unless you lie about what took place. Each memory you’ve lost has been the result of a lie you told.”

  Easing back without leaving the security of his embrace, Alyssa studied his shadowed face. They lay on their sides, one of his legs pressed between her thighs. Even their intimate position couldn’t distract her from the past. She desperately wanted to feel whole again, competent -- sane.

  “How do you know that?” A strand of tawny hair streamed in front of his face. She combed her fingers through his hair, pushing the thick mass over his shoulders. “Did you have something to do with my dream?”

  “It was not a dream, it was a memory.”

  She licked her lips, his evasive tone made her uncomfortable. “Did you somehow induce the memory?” He brushed his fingers along her side, then rested his hand on her hip. Tingling heat followed his touch. Was he trying to distract her with desire? Her body hummed, anticipating a more intimate distraction, appreciating his strategy. “How did you do it? If you can’t ‘indulge your carnal nature,’ why are you here?”

  He traced her lips with his fingertip. “The conflict within your mind troubles me. I wanted to help ease your confusion. All I did was light the way. I hadn’t intended to join you here, but the memory was more upsetting than I anticipated.”

  “You can see into my mind? Share my memories? These are not ordinary angelic gifts.”

  “I’m not an ordinary angel.”

  His smile sent heat curling deep into her belly. He was so beautiful when he smiled. She longed to bury her hands in his hair, drag his mouth to hers, and abandon herself completely to the passion sizzling between them. She had no doubt he desired her, but something more powerful than their attraction held him back.

  He had come to comfort her, to help her battle her confusion. She couldn’t compromise the purity of that goal by trying to seduce him. Scooting away from his warm body, she sat and took a slow deep breath.

  “Do you know what happened to the others?” he asked.

  She glanced over her shoulder. He sat as well, his body now on top of the bedding. Odd, she hadn’t felt the bed shift as he moved. “Some of them. Michael dispatched us to different locations, scattered throughout time. When I first encountered Lailah, she had just arrived, while I had been trapped in the human realm for nearly a hundred years.”

  “Did you seek her out or did your paths simply cross?”

  The subtle suspicion in his expression made her smile. “We were not specifically forbidden to interact with each other.”

  “Michael said he was dispersing your group permanently and then he scattered you to the four winds. That seemed pretty clear to me.”

  “Don’t you dare defend him to me!” She scowled fiercely. “Do you approve of his actions?”

  He raised his hands towards her, palms out, and shook his head. “I’m not your judge, Alyssa. This is between you, Michael, and God.” She didn’t reply and his posture gradually relaxed. “What became of Gideon? I know Rosalind descended from him. How did that come about?”

  She drew her knees to her chest under her nightrail and wrapped her arms around her legs. How could he defend Michael? Didn’t Sariel realize the living hell her life had become? Endless years of futile searching, continually on the run. Immortality was agony when purpose had been stripped away.

  Garbled images assailed her, fragments of lifetimes, various locations, and different identities. She remembered them all, and yet could recall the specifics of none.

  Sariel bent one leg, resting his forearm across his knee. Dense shadows gave his features a sinister cast. Still, Alyssa was not frightened by his presence in her bed. She had been alone far too long. Despite her frustration with his attitude, she longed for the shelter of his arms.

  “Gideon.” He prompted in a quiet, conversational tone. “Tell me about Gideon.”

  Resting her chin on her knees, she sifted through memories. “Much of it is still jumbled. Michael allowed our own words to determine the specifics of our trials. Gideon’s thirst for blood became literal.”

  “I’ve heard of such creatures among the Fallen. How was he redeemed?”

  “He didn’t Fall. His angelic nature was compromised, but none of us Fell. We are something in between, not demonic, yet no longer angelic.” She let a smile curve her lips. “Rather like you.”

  “But Gideon was not of the Order of Grigori, so how did he father children?” His gaze moved over her face, lingering on her lips. Was he imagining a kiss? Remembering her taste?

  “The murals Naomi painted in the church tell the tale. After they vanquished Legion, Gideon was transformed. His bloodlust was lifted and he was made human.” A sharp pang of envy darted through her. Gideon’s trial was over. He was at peace, forever content, while she battled on.

  “Human?” Sariel sounded incredulous. “He willingly gave up his immortality?”

  “And spent the rest of his days peacefully with the woman he loved. It was a fair exchange.”

  Sariel shook his head, his expression thoughtful. “Where are the others?”

  Ruggedly handsome features and flashing ebony eyes flickered to life within her mind. Daniel. What had become of Daniel? Specific events and details stayed just beyond her reach. She released a frustrated sigh. “I’m not sure. You said my memories are being destroyed by lies. What led you to that conclusion?”

  “Each of the Rebel Angels was cursed by their own words. You said truth was lost in lies. I believe you are no longer capable of distinguishing truth from falsehood. Each time you say something that is untrue, it become fact within your mind, distorting what is real.”

  Fiddling with the hem of her nightrail, she sil
ently considered his words. The theory made perfect sense. It was consistent with what she knew of the other punishments. She could finally see a glimmer of light through the mist, yet she had never been more discouraged.

  “Rosalind said my identity changes with my mood. I didn’t realize how accurate her assessment was. I cannot tell people what I am, so I become whatever I tell them.” Pressure erupted in her temples. She pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. “How will I ever combat this? If I speak only truth, the villagers will be more convinced than ever that I’m a lunatic. Or a witch!”

  Sariel pulled Alyssa onto his lap, cradling her against his chest. He guided her head to his shoulder and held her close. “Now that you’re aware of the problem, you can choose your words with the utmost care.”

  Having her in his arms was the sweetest torture he could imagine. She didn’t reply to his assurance, but cuddled against him. Her hand slipped inside the opening of his tunic, absently rubbing his chest.

  Images flickered through his mind. Female flesh spread before him like a banquet, offered without hesitation to his ravenous appetite. With a smoldering glance he’d made them want him, a few practiced caresses and they’d trembled, desperate for the pleasure they found only in his arms.

  He couldn’t do that to Alyssa. He wouldn’t make her a slave to his desire. If he loosed the beast, to even a small degree, it would devour them both.

  Alyssa’s light floral scent filled his nose. Sariel’s pulse sped and the pressure in his groin intensified. Why was he doing this? He should leave, return to his bedchamber and never touch her again.

  It had taken thousands of years to rise above his carnal nature. He could not go back now. Not even for Alyssa.

  “What are you afraid of?” she whispered against his skin.

  Anger burst within him. The beast writhed and roared. She had no idea what he’d been like, what he was liable to do to her.