by Cynthia Eden
“From what I can tell, killing your parents was the first time Rogziel crossed the line and acted on his own.”
Fury had her gut tightening. “And so what? You—” She waved her hands to indicate the fancy room, and all the angels that were probably behind the walls. “You gave him a free pass because it was just an incubus and a Fallen who suffered ?”
Finally, some emotion showed on Delia’s face. “No.”
“Bull—”
The massive doors flew open. A man strode inside. No, not a man. An angel. With midnight wings, blond hair, and a lover’s face.
“Leave us, Delia.”
“Uriel, she’s not—”
“Leave. ”
And the chick left. Very, very quickly. Seline straightened her spine. She was aware that this Uriel had to be someone pretty damn important on the old angel hierarchy scale.
He didn’t speak at first. He circled her, and his gaze swept from her head to her feet. After a few moments, he stopped in front of her and said, “You feel too much.”
A choked laugh slipped from her. “What can I say? I’m a succubus . . . feeling is kinda my thing.”
“No.” Flat. “You were a succubus. You shed that coil when you left your mortality behind.”
Oh, she did not like the sound of that. Seline leapt forward. No, maybe she actually flew. Weird. She grabbed his arms and glared at him. “I don’t want this.”
“You do not want heaven? Paradise?”
Yeah, okay, maybe saying no to that did sound kinda—
“And you do not want the chance to punish the wicked? To follow in your mother’s footsteps? To show the sinners the error of their ways?”
No way. Who was she to judge sin? “I’ve had enough punishment and vengeance. I just want—” Sam.
She didn’t say it, but Uriel’s eyes narrowed, and she wondered if the guy had read her mind. Especially when he said, “You know what he’s done.”
She nodded.
“He can’t be redeemed. His future has been foretold. One day, he will bring hell to earth.”
“Y-you don’t know that.”
“Yes.” Absolute certainty. “I do.”
Her knees did a little jiggle, but her resolve didn’t falter. “I know what he can be. Sammael isn’t evil.”
“We shall see.”
She didn’t like this angel too much. “Rogziel was the twisted freak. Why did he get to stay in heaven while Sam fell?”
“Because Sam was given a chance for redemption. He lost his wings, but he kept his life.” His gaze actually seemed to see right through her. “No such concession was to be made to Rogziel. He would die, but not at the hand of another angel.”
“So what? Sammael was your executioner?” Let a Fallen kill him instead of an angel. Nice way around that whole not “another angel” bit. “You used him to kill for you.”
“It’s what Death has always done well.”
“He’s more than Death!”
Uriel exhaled on what could have been a sigh. “I do not expect your transition to be easy.” A faint smile curved his lips, though no emotion flickered in his eyes. “Though you are a first, angels are usually—”
“Born here, got it.” She waved her hand. “How did I get here?”
“Delia suspected the truth about you from the first. She could feel the power in you, and then when you linked with your hound, we could all see the possibilities.”
Oh, “we” could? The wings were a light weight on her back, one that felt strange. Wings.
“We realized that you would either die in that final battle with Rogziel or you’d evolve and become something more when your demon side ceased to be.”
Wait. Back up. “What do you mean, ceased to be?” She did not like the sound of that.
Uriel just stared down at her with that pretty face of his. “The Death Angel’s touch doesn’t work on angels. Not winged angels and not those who possess the pure blood of angels within their—”
“I have angel blood.” And she had a mental flash of that fire-filled room. A man had bent near her. Pale skin. Dark eyes. The scent of flowers had filled the air all around him. Her heart thumped hard in her chest. “A Death Angel came for me?”
“He came for your demon side.” Uriel’s lips tightened, then he said, “The succubus you were is dead. The angel that was trapped inside you . . . well, she is free now. Jeremian’s job was to watch you in your final moments, and then to ferry you back to the place you truly belong.”
Her wings trembled. “I don’t feel like an angel.” Too much rage. Too much need. Emotions stirred and fought within her.
“Angels do not feel.”
Her wings curved around her, and she had the weird impression they were trying to give her a hug. “This isn’t me.”
“This is what you will be.” Then he turned and walked away, his steps slow and certain. “All you need is time to forget.”
The doors opened instantly for him, and then they closed just as quickly in his wake.
“I don’t want to forget,” Seline whispered. She hurried toward the doors. They didn’t open. Not even when she shoved them with all her strength. They. Wouldn’t. Open.
Seline paced back to the bed. Trapped in paradise. How could that even happen? This place was supposed to be perfect. No fear. No worry. No pain.
But she wanted pain. She wanted every bit—good and bad—that came with her life.
The succubus inside you died. How long had she tried to smother that demon side?
But now, without that part of herself, Seline just felt . . . lost.
Because I can still feel. She wasn’t like the angels here. She felt, and her feelings were close to ripping her apart.
Sam, I need you!
She needed him, and she’d have him.
Breath catching, she climbed onto the bed. Seline closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Maybe the angels were wrong. Maybe her demon side wasn’t gone, not yet.
Please, not yet.
Sam . . . Sam, be there.
She let her mind drift and pushed hard for powers that didn’t want to rise. She’d never been able to contact someone from this kind of distance before—she didn’t even know how damn far away she was. But she’d never been this desperate before, either.
She dug into her soul, grabbed the power she could still feel, weak, but there.
Her heart ripped in two, but she pushed and pushed . . .
Sam, take a walk with me.
In dreams.
After three days, Sam slept. No, he collapsed. He’d searched nearly all of Mexico, but there’d been no sign of Seline.
Mateo hadn’t carried through with his end of the deal. The witch had given him more of that containment powder, but so far that had been pretty fucking useless. There were no angels around to contain.
Don’t want angels. Don’t want heaven. Mateo knew exactly what he wanted.
Lying bastard. How hard was it to get a ticket to hell?
The numbness took him first, weighing down Sam’s body. His chest burned even though the wound near his heart had healed.
Seline.
When Sam closed his eyes, the nightmares came. Because what more did he have but nightmares? He dreamed of fire and a fall that never ended. He dreamed of pain, agony, of wings that burned and of an unforgiving earth that broke all of his bones.
Then . . . her.
The beast was at Seline’s throat. Her eyes were on Sam.
Love . . .
Why? He tried to shove the images away. He’d failed her. He’d watched while she died. Why the hell had she loved him?
The fire flared hotter. He couldn’t see her anymore. Could only see the flames.
Just the fire.
Then . . .
Nothing.
Seline, come back to me.
“I can’t.” Her whisper.
The darkness lifted a bit, and he saw her on the bed. Shadows cloaked her.
“Seline?” Hope had him leaping toward her.
She lifted her hands to him. His mouth crashed down on hers. She tasted, oh, damn, she tasted like life. Heaven. Everything he’d ever wanted but never realized he needed. Her body trembled against his. His lips lifted, pushing against her helplessly, and he growled, “I thought you’d left me.”
“I did.” The pain in her voice broke the heart that was hers. Her fingers smoothed over his chest. “And I don’t know how to get back.” A tear slid down her cheek.
He caught the tear with his mouth. Tasted the salt. Tasted her. Real. “Sweetheart, you are back, and I’m not letting you go. Stay. Just . . . stay.” He had to make her stay. “I’m more . . . than what you’ve seen. We can have a life together. We can have everything.”
Because he’d give her anything.
“Stay.” His hold tightened on her.
“I don’t know how!” Her hand seemed cool on his chest. She eased away from him. Her head tilted back as she studied him. Her neck was smooth, unlined. No scars, no blood.
And he knew this wasn’t real. Fuck, no. Just another nightmare. She’d leave him and reality would be his hell on earth. “I love you.” Just a nightmare, but he’d tell her anyway. Why hadn’t he told her before? Why hadn’t he realized the truth? “I’d trade my life for yours in an instant.”
Something whispered in the darkness, a soft rustle of sound. Wind seemed to brush over his face. He stared into the shadows around him, aware that his heart had started to thud too fast.
“I can’t get back to you.” Now her hands were on his face. Her fingers trailed down his cheek, over her jaw. As if memorizing him. “I don’t want to forget.”
“You won’t.” A vow. “I won’t.”
But she was fading. Her lips pressed against his once more. He tasted her breath. Life. Love.
Seline.
She vanished. The fire came back. The pain. The torture. But he wouldn’t forget. His Seline had come to him.
And she’d had black angel wings.
She hadn’t been dragged to hell. His angel had been sent to heaven.
He fought through the fire in his nightmares and opened his eyes. He glared at the cracking ceiling above him. “You aren’t taking her!”
Sam knew he didn’t have to fight his way through hell to get Seline back. But he would have to knock down the gates of paradise.
If you wanted to see an angel, sometimes you had to raise a little hell. Sam stood in the middle of the crowded street, his gaze on the dark sky above him. Power crackled in the air around him.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Az’s voice. Very slowly, Sam turned his head to the right. He’d dumped Az in a motel three days before. He hadn’t wanted to deal with him. Killing him . . . well, shit, Az had tried to sacrifice himself so that Sam would be protected. Killing him after that just hadn’t seemed fair. So he’d let the bastard walk away with his head still attached to his body.
Only it seemed Az was walking back to him now. The guy must have a death wish.
Sam sure did. Gotta be a family trait.
Sam smiled and knew the grin would flash with evil. “I’m about to call down some angels.”
Az blinked. “Uh, you sure that’s the best plan you’ve got?”
This was a much darker part of Mexico. The men and women filling the cantinas on this beaten street weren’t human. Shifters. Demons. Some good, some in-between, some so vicious he could feel their taint in the air. “It’s the only one I’ve got.”
Az frowned back at him. “Look, I’m sorry about the girl, but she’s dead. Sacrificing yourself won’t bring her back.”
A gust of Sam’s power slammed into his brother and knocked him back a good ten feet. Bones popped when Az landed.
“She’s not dead.” Sam pointed to the sky and glared at the heavens. “She’s just . . . there.”
Az rose slowly. He snapped his shoulder back in place and adjusted his broken wrist. “You’ve finally gone crazy, haven’t you?” Said with a bit of sadness. “I always thought the day would come.”
“Maybe I have. Doesn’t matter.” He pulled back his hand and let a line of fire race down the street. Voices rose. Shrieks filled the air. “I’m about to make a fire so bright that heaven has to see it.”
Screams filled the air. The Other scattered as they raced away from the flames.
But he just poured out more power. More. He wouldn’t stop. The world didn’t realize just how dangerous he could be. Time to show them.
Bring her back.
Or he’d destroy everything, and, perhaps everyone.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Sam hit the dirt when he was tackled from behind. He spun around and tossed his asshole brother aside. This time, Az landed on his feet, and his bones stayed in place, mostly.
“You can’t kill them!” Az shouted.
Sam’s brows rose. “Since when do you care?”
“Since I fell!” Az ran a hand through his hair. “This isn’t right! Dammit, you can’t!”
The fire hadn’t touched anyone. Not yet.
“He can,” another voice said, this one strong and deep and coming from the shadows near him, “but he won’t.”
An oh-shit expression crossed Az’s face, and Sam knew his brother recognized that voice, too.
It was a voice most heard in their nightmares because this angel, he wasn’t there to comfort you. Not to give you a message. Not to guard you or protect you from the monsters in the world.
Uriel was the leader of the punishment angels. If the stories were true, he’d once been at the right hand of God, but a few centuries back, he’d been put in charge of the darker angels. He came after only the worst of the worst, and his punishments had been known to make the devil weep with envy.
His wings curled behind him as Uriel stepped from the darkness. He stared at Sam, and he shook his head. “Sammael, call back your fire.”
The fire whipped through the streets, snaking long and hard, rising high, so high. It hadn’t touched the flesh of anyone, but it could; all it would take was one thought and they’d ignite.
“Is this what she would want you to do?” Uriel asked.
In an instant, Sam had the bastard by his black T-shirt. And since when did Uriel wear a torn T-shirt and jeans? “You’ve seen her?”
Uriel nodded. “She’s one of mine.”
“No,” Sam snarled, choking on rage. “She’s mine.”
Az closed in on them. “Are you serious? Seline’s an . . . angel?”
Uriel didn’t look particularly concerned about the fire or the tight grip that Sam had on him. But, what was new? Uriel was never concerned. That’s why he was good at his job.
And those punishment angels who weren’t so good—they wound up like Rogziel.
“Sometimes angels walk on earth. Mistakes are made. They have to be . . . called home.” Uriel inclined his head toward Sam. “Thank you for taking care of Rogziel. He’d become a nuisance.”
What the fuck? “Take care of your own garbage next time.”
“That’s not the way it works.”
“How do you know?” Sam fired back. “Have you ever actually asked?”
Uriel’s dark eyes narrowed. “Rogziel received his punishment.”
“Yeah, no thanks to you!” Sam dropped his hold on the angel. “What? Did you want me to do your dirty work for you? And here I thought you enjoyed the punishment.”
He’d hope the words would crack Uriel’s icy façade. They didn’t work. Because that wasn’t a façade. It was just Uriel.
“You know the rules,” Uriel said. “No angel can kill another. Not without earning damnation.” He brushed off his T-shirt. “We didn’t just want Rogziel to suffer, we wanted him destroyed.”
And so he had been. “And the Fallen who got taken out along the way?”
“A Fallen was the only one who had a chance of fighting him.”
Ah, right. Since they’d fallen and lost their wings, they weren’t exactly angelic any longer so th
at whole rule about one angel not killing another wasn’t technically in play. Angels hadn’t just learned to twist the truth over the centuries. They’d learned to twist the entire world.
“Unfortunately,” Uriel said with a sigh, “the first few Fallen he found weren’t strong enough for the job.”
“Very unfortunate,” Az echoed, but there was emotion in his voice. Now that the guy was on earth, he was sure picking up the human ways fast.
I like him better this way. Az wasn’t quite as much of an asshole.
“But the job is done now.” Uriel leveled his stare back at Sam. “It’s time for you to move on.”
No. “I want to see Seline.”
Uriel’s brow furrowed. “And I do what you want because. . . ?”
“Because if you don’t, I will light this whole damn town on fire.” He smiled, showing lots of teeth. “I don’t have anything to lose. I’ll burn, I’ll fight,” and he pulled out the claw that was still stained with an angel’s blood, “and I’ll kill.”
Uriel’s gaze dropped to the weapon. “You’re actually threatening me?” Now there was emotion in his voice and on his face. Shock.
“I killed one angel.” Sam shrugged, then yanked out the bottle he’d gotten from Mateo. Smart-ass witch. The guy had no doubt seen this coming. No wonder he’d made sure Sam had a good stock on that holding powder. The bottle exploded, and the white smoke sprang up around Uriel, trapping him just as it had trapped Rogziel. “How much harder can it be to take out another?”
Uriel’s jaw dropped. He slammed his hands against the invisible wall that bound him in place.
“I don’t think he saw that coming,” Az murmured.
“Angels . . .” Sam shook his head. “Sometimes, they’re just too damn cocky. Just because they’re high up on the food chain, it doesn’t mean they can’t still get eaten.”
Uriel screamed, no, he roared, and his wings slammed into his crystal-clear prison.
“When you calm down . . .” The area was deserted now. Smart Other had fled. “We’ll talk, and then you’ll bring me Seline.” Sam shrugged. “Or I’ll cut off your wings.”
Seline was walking through a cloud of—well, a cloud. Everything was beautiful. Gorgeous. But . . . there were only other angels around, and they weren’t exactly chatty.