by Eva Brandt
“Afraid of the truth, Yeqon? For shame. Hiding and pretending won’t change your reality. It will just make things worse.”
“And I suppose a guy who tortures his ex-boyfriend is incredibly qualified in giving romantic advice,” I bit out.
Seconds later, I regretted it, because something furious and vicious flickered over Uriel’s face. “This isn’t about me and Shamsiel. I have my own issues, it’s true, but I’ve long ago acknowledged them. That’s more than you have.
“You’re lying to yourself, Delilah St. John. In fact, your capacity for deceit is so astonishing I’m shocked Metatron could even be in your presence and not throw up. He must have worked up a tolerance when he was actually a human like you.”
“I’m not lying,” I tried to defend myself. “My feelings for them are real.” It was true that I was confused, but our bond was still precious to me.
“So you’ll have me believe that you forgot all about your family and friends in less time than it took for you to meet half of the Archangel Corps? That says a lot about your capacity for genuine love and dedication.”
Sariel stepped in front of me, shielding me with his wings. “And who are you to judge? You’ve stunted yourself so much that you don’t even understand why Shamsiel left you.”
“Nice try, Watcher, but you’re not going to harm me with things I already know.”
At that point, the other archangels decided to intervene. “He’s not wrong,” Sandalphon said. “The whole reason why you three were under suspicion is because her feelings aren’t true. We assumed you must have figured it out and you decided to take it out on her. It’s not that unusual for Watchers to act on their first impulses, and this would not be the first case when a human would bring an angel down.”
“No matter what happens, no matter what Delilah’s feelings might be, we would never hurt her,” Azazel said. “That’s absurd.”
“Don’t be so sure,” the third archangel said. “There’s no real certainty in the world. The only thing you can’t question or escape is death.”
He looked straight at me, and even if my lovers were trying to shield me from his gaze, I could feel the weight of his power. Even without having officially met him, I knew who he was. The Angel of Death.
He should have scared me. Maybe he did, because my head was throbbing again. I tasted blood and ash in my mouth and my hands were shaking. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
But at the same time, I realized something very important. My lovers had defended me against the archangels and had told them to stop harassing me. They hadn’t actually said the assholes were wrong. They didn’t believe I loved them either.
Come to think of it, whenever we were together, they always seemed inclined to accept whatever I offered and were unsurprised if I turned them away or rejected them.
My first instinct was to run, like I had during the Forgiveness class. And indeed, I took a step back, then another. But I stopped before I could actually leave. “Tell me something, Uriel,” I said, proud when my voice didn’t shake. “How does someone stop lying to themselves?”
Azazel, Sariel, and Yeqon turned toward me. Through the veil of their wings, I could now see the archangels better. “It depends,” Uriel replied. “More often than not, there’s some kind of deciding factor, a powerful incentive that allows you to push past your own mask, even if it hurts.”
“And have you done that?” I asked him.
Uriel tilted his head, as if considering the question. “Yes and no. I can understand my lies, but I have no real desire to question them. They serve a purpose.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “And what purpose is that?”
“We’re archangels, Delilah,” the Angel of Death said. “We’re not supposed to follow our own hearts and interests, remember? Even if we’re aware of something we want and we acknowledge it, we can’t follow that path, because it leads to damnation.”
“But if that’s true, how is it any different from me lying to make myself feel better? Aren’t you also lying to save your souls and serve The Supreme Being?”
“Yes, but I’m not involving three other people in my deceit and dragging them down with me,” Uriel said. “Azrael is right. Some paths lead straight to damnation, but contrary to popular belief, I’ve never begrudged those who damn themselves. Those who damn others, though… They’re a particular brand of evil that shouldn’t exist, not even in The Infernal Realm.
“Tell me, what do you think will happen when the Watchers get tired of your mask? They might claim they’re happy to accept you as you are now, but they’re lying to themselves too. They have no other choice. They haven’t had anything close to what you offer in centuries. A willing woman, a warm embrace, a smile, just for them.
“The day that will fade, when they’ll acknowledge it as the mockery it truly is, all their efforts will collapse. And they will be damned all over again. Because of you, because you’re selfish enough to not care what will happen once you no longer have a use for them. Because you’re a creature of deception.”
Silence fell in the garden. Azazel, Sariel, and Yeqon were so still they seemed to have turned into statues. I wanted to believe none of that would happen, but I couldn’t read the future. I was just a human, and apparently, a creature of deception.
The accusing eyes of the archangels burned me. I wanted to die. I wanted to tell them none of it was true, but I had no words.
“Raphael told me that your attacker said you don’t deserve your wings,” Uriel finished, delivering the final blow. “I respect The Supreme Being’s judgment, but at the same time, I don’t think that person was wrong in their belief. Wrong in their actions, yes, but not in their reasoning.”
That finally snapped my lovers out of their trance. Flame bloomed at Yeqon’s fingertips and he tossed the bolt of fire straight at Uriel. The Angel of Death—Azrael, as Uriel had called him—stepped in and shielded him. He hissed in pain, the fire burning away his skin like it was nothing.
“Don’t you dare say something like that to her,” Yeqon snarled. “She’s better than you’ll ever be, you heartless asshole.”
“And stop hiding behind Azrael,” Sariel added, the edges of his silver wings turning black. “The magic of death can’t protect you from us. You know that.”
Oh no, oh no. That was demonic magic, and Raphael had already made it clear it wasn’t allowed at Watcher Academy. I’d never wanted this. I’d never wanted them to get so angry that they’d lose their chance to start over. This was all wrong.
Before the archangels could retaliate, as they undoubtedly intended, I ran back to my lovers’ side and grabbed Sariel’s hand. “Don’t. Let’s not start a fight again. The last one didn’t end that well.”
Sariel faltered. He remembered what had happened after the incident in the courtyard, of course. That was the whole reason we were here. It was manipulative of me to dangle that in front of them, but I preferred that to letting them use demonic magic against the archangels.
The battle would have been more or less three against three, but even if my lovers won, it wouldn’t end well for them. They would still be punished, and this time, I’d be unable to save them.
“Please,” I insisted. “Let’s just go. They’re not going to tell us anything useful.”
Yeqon let out a slow breath and the fire around his hands died. “Fine. But just so you know, this isn’t over.”
Uriel pressed his hand to Azrael’s shoulder, and the other archangel’s wounds started to heal. “I don’t expect it to. But you’ll see I’m right, in time. Make the right choice, Yeqon. The Heavenly Host is your true home and your family. This human can’t offer you anything we don’t have.”
Metatron had disagreed, but Metatron had also said that humans needed anchors to get used to The Celestial Realm. It hadn’t occurred to me at the time that an anchor was an object, something a person used for their own benefit.
For Metatron and Sandalphon, it had been different, because they’d h
ad one another. But the relationship between me and my lovers was imbalanced and I couldn’t truly say that what I was giving them had as much worth as what they were giving me.
At this point, I didn’t think I could even look at Uriel without bursting into tears. I had trouble even standing and the only thing that kept me on my feet was the knowledge that if I fell, my lovers would lose it. “Let’s just go,” I pleaded again.
Sariel wrapped his wings around me and together, we left the interior garden. As our bodies turned into currents of energy, I could have sworn I heard the sound of laughter echoing in my head, and I was more afraid than ever before.
Damned Souls
“Delilah, don’t be upset, okay? He’s full of shit. You don’t have to listen to him.”
“We’re together. That’s the only thing that matters.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you. And if anyone tries to say anything about your wings, we’ll tear them apart.”
Ever since we’d come back to The Halls of Truth—like I’d insisted—my lovers had kept trying to cheer me up. In my heart, I appreciated it, but it also made Uriel’s words return with a vengeance.
How many times had I used their words and presence as a crutch? How many times had I relied on them for silent comfort, while rejecting them at a deeper level because of the connection they had with Lucifer? I’d told myself I couldn’t love them because they’d been Lucifer’s minions, and yet, when it had been convenient for me, I’d accepted what they’d offered. On some level, I might have actually considered leaving them if I ever felt they weren’t good enough for me.
They were all so concerned and I couldn’t help but feel that I didn’t deserve it. Even so, when Sariel knelt in front of me and took my hand, I didn’t pull away. “Delilah? Talk to us. Please.”
I stared at our entwined fingers, then back up at his far too beautiful face. It had never been more obvious that I was human and he was not.
“Tell me something, Sariel. Do you think Uriel was wrong? Do you think I love you?”
Sariel’s jaw tightened. He didn’t look surprised that I’d asked, but he was unhappy with the question anyway. “Does that matter?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Don’t answer a question with a question!” I pulled my hand out of his grip. “Then again, I suppose avoiding a real reply is an answer too.”
“Look, Delilah, emotions aren’t as straightforward as Uriel likes to pretend they are,” Azazel said. “We’ve had a lot of time to just watch humans. Really, as Watchers, we haven’t done anything but that. Our reach wasn’t as great after we were cursed, but even then, we witnessed plenty of things that taught us a lot of lessons we needed—lessons you can’t really learn at any academy, be it infernal or divine.”
“And what lessons are those, Azazel?”
“I think that half the time, people don’t understand their own emotions. It’s not unusual at all. Their subconscious tells them to act in a certain way and they do, without them thinking about it. But that’s not a bad thing.”
“I don’t think that’s what Uriel meant, Azazel,” I replied, shaking my head. “Love is hardly a self-preservation instinct.”
“It can be, especially here.”
“I don’t know if I want that,” I admitted.
“I wouldn’t rush to make any judgments,” Sariel said. “Honestly, Delilah, love isn’t something you should put a label on. It’s a very personal feeling and you can turn it into whatever works for you. It’s obsession, affection, need, desire, all wrapped into one. It isn’t always good for you, I’ll give you that, but there are no rules that can tell you how to love.”
Maybe he was right, but the fact remained that he still hadn’t answered my question. “Okay. Let’s say I agree with you. Taking all that into account, do you think I love you?”
“I don’t know,” Sariel whispered. “I think… I think you feel something for us. But at the same time…”
He trailed off, obviously having trouble finishing the phrase. Azazel helped him out. “Uriel is an idiot, but he was right about one thing. It seems unlikely that you’d forgive us so quickly. Your parents are alive, yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that they did die and they would have stayed that way had the Grim Reaper not decided to intervene. And while we weren’t the ones who harmed them directly, we supported Lucifer’s rise and to a certain extent, haven’t completely abandoned that bond.”
What they said made sense, but I still ached inside at having to acknowledge it. “Do you think you can give me some privacy? I need to be alone.”
My lovers shared a dark look, but nodded. “All right, Delilah. Just make sure to not leave The Halls of Truth. We still don’t know who is after you.”
“I won’t,” I promised. “I’ll be careful.”
After a few moments of hesitation, my lovers left. Now alone, I slumped down onto the bed, feeling more exhausted than I had in a long time.
Emotions were complicated indeed. I could almost understand why angels decided to scorn them. It would have been so much easier if I could have done the same. But I couldn’t. Instead, I was stuck with half-hearted feelings I couldn’t understand and didn’t want.
Frustrated, I left the bed and headed out of the room, through the terrace. I hated feeling sorry for myself almost as much as I hated the knowledge that the archangel who despised me might not be wrong. Maybe the answer lay in trying to go further, to learn more on my own, without using anything or anyone as a crutch.
It seemed like forever since I’d come to the tower where Ariel had first started teaching me how to fly. I’d yet to actually learn, but I liked to think I was making progress. Maybe that was another thing I was fooling myself about.
With a sigh, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to drift. Communing with The Celestial Realm felt easier now and it no longer sent me into a panic. That, at least, I could say I’d accomplished. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
Despite everything that had gone wrong recently, the divine energy soothed me. I allowed it to flow over me, into me, hoping it would show me what I was doing wrong.
Do I love them? If I don’t, should I let them go? Am I a human being? Am I an angel? Why did I die? Who was to blame?
I didn’t know how long I stood there, the questions constantly bombarding my consciousness. The Celestial Realm didn’t answer me, but neither did it reject me. Maybe on a different day, it would have been enough.
I was forced to abandon my efforts when the energy alerted me that I wasn’t alone anymore. I opened my eyes and turned, only to find myself facing Ariel.
“I thought you must have come here,” she said without preamble. “Sandalphon told me what happened. Are you all right?”
“As all right as I can be, I guess.” I grimaced. “It was pretty messy. I should have never gone to confront Uriel, especially not when he was in the middle of an investigation.”
“Do you really think that?” she asked, her wings twitching slightly.
“I don’t know what to think. Half the time, I don’t understand what I’m doing. I wish things were straightforward, but I guess there’s no real recipe to become an angel.”
“No, there isn’t,” Ariel agreed. “It depends a lot on every individual. That’s why it’s so hard for humans to adapt.”
“Ariel, do you think there’s any chance for me to be a guardian angel?” I asked her. “Truly?”
Even as I spoke, I knew it was a stupid question, one of those things a person only asked while expecting a certain reply. What else could Ariel answer except ‘of course’? She was an archangel, and I was here with permission from The Supreme Being. Yes, the Grim Reaper had been the one to make the arrangements, but it wouldn’t have been allowed at all if The Supreme Being hadn’t approved of it.
In other words, someone with complete faith in The Supreme Being couldn’t question my presence. It was a testament to how much Uriel hated me that he’d been able to say all those things about me, in Sandalpho
n’s presence, no less. But even Uriel had acknowledged that The Supreme Being’s judgment mattered more than his opinion.
Ariel had never hated me and she’d always shown nothing but dedication to her task of teaching me how to commune with The Celestial Realm. That was why I was beyond shocked when she responded with a blunt, “No. You’re evil.”
I stared at her in disbelief. “W-What?” I stammered.
“I won’t pretend to understand the reasons for your presence here. The Supreme Being makes decisions I can’t always process, and I’ve accepted that. It is my belief that your case may be similar to that of the Watchers or Lucifer’s, and he is attempting to salvage a soul that is truly beyond salvation.”
I took a step back, suddenly having a bad feeling. “A soul beyond salvation? I don’t understand.”
I hadn’t done anything all that special throughout my life. A few pranks, maybe, and I hadn’t always been respectful to my parents. But surely, that didn’t mean I was beyond salvation, did it?
Ariel’s eyes burned with vengeful fire. “I think you do. You’re a creature that corrupts. Everything you touch, you destroy. And even if I have to break the laws of The Celestial Realm, I must destroy you, before you corrupt anything or anyone else.”
There was something manic and rabid in her voice, so different from her usual behavior. My spine ached and I tasted terror in my mouth as I realized the identity of my attacker.
There was no one here to help me and no place to go. I could scream, but who would arrive in time? If I jumped off the edge of the tower, Ariel would catch me before I hit the ground and it wouldn’t help me.
But The Halls of Truth weren’t in the dark side of the academy, so someone was presumably watching them. I needed to stall, just until the angels realized what was going on.
“Ariel, please. This is crazy. If this is about Sariel, Azazel, and Yeqon, I know I haven’t been fair to them, but—”
Ariel cut me off with a sharp bark of laughter. “How can you possibly think they are the problem? Uriel might be soft-hearted enough to care about what happens to their souls, but I’m not.”