Emil lifts his lips and sits beside me on the piano bench with his back to the keys, facing me. “You play so beautifully, just like an angel, Simone.”
“Do you believe in angels, Emil?” I ask. I can’t even remember formulating the question, but it’s out of my mouth before I can stop it.
“Of course. I have one beside me.”
“I mean real angels.” I shouldn’t be speaking. It will upset him.
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Why not.”
“If there were angels, you wouldn’t exist.” The truth I never meant to say.
“The world needs me to rid it of its imperfections.”
“Who are you to judge anyone?”
“I’m the one with all the power.”
His hand rests against my skin, rubbing my cheek. He moves his hand downward. My fingertips touch the fabric of his trousers. I glide them up the length of his thigh, watching his pupils grow larger until my fingernails bump against the supple leather of the holster of his sidearm. Emil’s hand cups my breast. A soft gasp whispers from me before I swallow back the bile in my mouth. I skim my hand over smooth leather, feeling the transition from warm hide to cool metal. My heart hammers in my chest.
Emil reaches to the back of my dress. He deftly slips the ivory top button of my collar through the eyelet. I feel sick. Our eyes are locked on one another’s. I touch the handle of his gun. The second button on my dress springs free of its eyelet. I ease my arm back, heavy gunmetal slithers against leather. With my shaking thumb, I push the safety off. Finding the trigger with one finger, I use my other hand to pull back the toggle of the pistol. It slides back into place.
Emil’s hands have stilled, recognizing the sound of me arming his Luger. “Do you intend to shoot—” I push the barrel against his ribs. The trigger clicks as I pull it, but nothing happens. It doesn’t fire. My eyes leave his as I fumble with the toggle once more. It’s in the up position, indicating that there are no bullets in the magazine. I cock the toggle anyway and try to fire the pistol. Again, nothing happens, except that the toggle springs back to the up position once more. I lift my eyes to Emil’s. He’s amused.
“We’re running low on ammunition. I gave my cartridges to Axel so he could dispose of the staff. I am, as you see, out of bullets.” I can’t seem to swallow. I stare into his cold, blue eyes. “I thought you loved me, Simone.”
“I don’t,” I hear myself whisper. “I hate you.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“No. Not even close.”
The violent crack of his backhand across my cheek sends me toppling from the bench. Landing hard on the floor, I pull my heels up to me so that I have a better chance of rising fast. His Luger flies from my hand, spinning to a halt underneath a table.
“Pity,” Emil says. “I love you. You’re dear to me.”
My palm cups my throbbing cheek as I look up at him. “You love to torture me. It isn’t the same thing.”
He rises from the bench, towering over me. “It is to me.” He lifts his cane from against the side of the piano. The silver wolf head shines in the light from the window. “You’ve grown rebellious. Why is that? It’s as if something has given you hope. Is that it? Do you hope, Simone? Do you believe you will be liberated by my enemies?”
I don’t answer. I’m afraid that he’ll see the truth on my face though. I did hope. I placed my hope in a British soldier who has abandoned me. I rise to my feet with my hand on the nearby table. Backing away from him, he watches me move. My clumsy hand stumbles over the table, knocking over the kerosene lamp, breaking the top of it off. Emil’s eyes go to the growing stain of liquid as it pours out. I retreat from it, my feet walking backward toward the doors to the hallway. Emil goes to the table, catching up the broken bottom of the lamp. He looks in my direction. Flicking his hand at me, the oil from the lamp soaks the front of my dress, splashing onto my face and arms. I close my eyes, trying to avoid getting it in them. Blurrily, I try to wipe it from my face with the back of my sleeve.
“Do you hope, Simone? Do you pray to be rescued? Do you wish for someone to take you from me, now that we are in retreat? Do you believe that I will ever let you go?” He sets the broken lamp back on the table. A matchbox rests next to his hand. Running his fingers over it, he snatches it up. Blood drains from my face as he opens it and withdraws a matchstick. With trembling knees, I force my feet to move.
Driven by terror of the madman behind me, I stumble into a chair, toppling it over. I put my hands out, trying to feel my way across the room while my red-rimmed eyes burn with tears. Managing to find the doors, I fling them wide. The hallway is quiet. Empty. My hands go to the plaster wall and follow it to the kitchen. The scraping sound of a dragged foot follows me as I cross the stone floor. I fumble for the latch of the back door, finding it I fling it open. Leaning heavily on the railing, I descend the stone steps that lead to the cobbled drive.
The hazy shapes of soldiers crowd around at the end of the drive, loading the rest of their belongings into trucks in preparation of the evacuation. I avoid them, switching direction toward the carriage house. The wooden sliding door looms ahead. I hear Emil following me. In desperation, I throw all of my weight into the task of rolling the wooden door open on its glide. A diagonal sliver of light cuts the darkness inside. The space has been cleaned out. There are only a few bales of straw in the loft above. The cobblestone ground is dank beneath my feet. A blackbird flies onto the beam of the high ceiling. Rushing in, I roll the door closed. I try to throw the bolt, but Emil opens the door from without. He calls to his men outside, telling the soldiers to go on to the next location without him—he’ll catch up with them. Truck engines rev and softly fade as his men depart.
I pant in fear, but stand my ground. There’s no point in retreating further. There’s nowhere left to go. Emil slides the door closed behind us. Light from a window near the gables is plenty to see by, but Emil strikes a match anyway. He opens the glass of the wall sconce and touches the fire to it. It flames to life.
He looks down his nose at me, as if I’m some sort of insect he has to dispose of before I infest the world. His lower lip pushes up, curving his mouth down. “Simone, I’m very disappointed in you. You not only tried to kill me, you ran from me.”
“You’re not disappointed. You’re offended. You believe I should love you.”
“You should love me!” he snarls. “I’ve labored to mold and shape you into the perfect woman. You should thank me!”
“I should kill you,” I don’t even try to keep the venom from my voice.
“You haven’t the strength to kill me. I own you.”
“There’s a whole world inside me that you’ll never touch!”
Emil walks in a slow circle, casing me. I want to remain unaffected by it, but my knees weaken and my hands tremble. I’m nauseated by fear as my bravado erodes. Emil swipes his cane though the air, it makes a terrifying whistle. I flinch. I know what it will feel like when it finally falls on me. Brutal. “Ahh, so you do still fear me.” He stops in front of me so I can see his smug smile. “Now I want you to beg me.”
I don’t have to ask him what for, I know he means my life. My whole body begins to shake. “Plea—”
Emil’s fist connects with my upper lip, pushing it into my teeth. My soft flesh explodes. Blood drips between my front teeth. The metallic taste stains my tongue. My head lurches to the side. I crash onto the ground, bouncing off the uneven brick. Emil stands over me. “Get up. I didn’t hit you hard.” But he did and he knows he did. He uses his cane, landing blows on my back and legs. “Get. Up.”
I blink. Tears seep from my eyes. More blows strike me, tearing my soul away with my flesh. I can’t stop the pain. My breath rattles in my chest. My ribs ache. It feels as though they’re pressing into my lungs. I manage to push myself up to my knees. The rough brick cuts them. A part of me wonders why I’m bothering to move. The distressing answer is I want to live, but I doubt this time that I
will. He’s always been in control of his vicious nature, but his control is slipping. He’s giving in to the darkness inside him and it’ll only stop when I’m in pieces.
His cane hits my arms that I lift to protect my head and face. The bones in my hand shatter. I realize vaguely that I’m screaming until he punches me in the stomach. A whoosh of air goes out of my mouth. I land flat on my back, looking up at him hovering above me. All sound is muffled. Emil is saying something. He leans near me and shakes my shoulders. His face looms in front of mine. I squint at him. My eyelids are swelling. Blood oozes into them from open cuts on my brow. Sound crashes back in.
“You’re pregnant?” Emil demands with a desperate look in his eyes. He touches the ground beside me, lifting his palm; it’s covered with my blood. “Tell me!” He shakes me again. “Are you pregnant with my child?”
A gush of blood pours from me, wetting my thighs as my abdomen contracts violently. I moan. “My child,” I croak. “Never yours.”
Emil swears in anger. “Why didn’t you tell me? This is entirely your fault! I wouldn’t have struck you there if I had known.” He touches my forehead with his bloody palm, pushing back my hair from it. “You cannot leave me, Simone.” The room grows darker. I lose focus on his face. He shakes me again until my teeth rattle. “Why didn’t you tell me you were carrying my baby?” He’s afraid. I’m slipping away from him.
“Never your baby. Just mine.” I look over his shoulder. Sparkling embers of golden light, like glowing dust, falls through the crack of the open door. Amid the light, a charcoal-colored feather blows toward me. It gently falls against my swollen cheek. My cloudy eyes become clear. Dark, widespread wings show on either side of Emil as he kneels over me. A large hand encircles Emil’s neck, cutting off his breath. Emil jerks away from me, lofting into the air, held up by an angel. I blink. The angel strangles my enemy with one hand as his flapping gray wings beat the air.
Emil’s face turns blue. His hands claw and slap the angel’s fist, trying to pry it from his throat. Strawberry-blond hair waves disheveled and messy on his forehead. A mask of agony contorts his face as his legs kick the air. The dark-haired angel has a look of vengeance. He bares his teeth, closing his fist harder, crushing Emil’s spine. Emil’s arms drop and his legs no longer flail. The angel says something to Emil, it sounds like music. His wings continue to move as his other hand reaches up and twists Emil’s head at an unnatural angle, breaking Emil’s neck. Then the beautiful creature rips Emil’s head clean off his shoulders, spraying blood on the floor and walls. He lets go of Emil’s body. It crashes to the floor in a tangled heap. My abuser’s blood mixes with mine in a pool on the ground.
Still hovering in the air, the angel turns in my direction. I look into his green eyes, the color of a field in summer. “You feel no pain,” the angel says to me in English. His deep voice echoes in my mind. All pain evaporates from me, floating away as if it had never been, but I can’t move. I’m broken.
The angel’s wings rustle. He lands near me, but his wings still flutter—restless air fans me. Reaching down, the angel picks me up, extracting me from the cold cobblestone floor. My cheek rests against his bared chest, leaving streaks of red on his perfect skin. I hear the powerful beat of his heart. Mine slows, making me pant for air. He flies us upward, landing on the loft. Gently, he lays me in the straw. His hands move over me, checking my injuries. I know it should be painful, but it isn’t.
A growl turns his expression dark. His perfect mouth twists in anger as one of his hands touches my ribs. I feel him move the shard of bone, pulling it in a way that he shouldn’t be able to if it weren’t broken. There’s a sucking sound as he moves it.
I can’t breathe! My eyes go wide in distress. Quickly, he moves my rib back. Whatever hole he’d opened by shifting the bone from my lung fills once more. The angel gathers me to him. He sits and leans against the dusty wall with me in his lap. I look up at the exposed rafters of the carriage house. His hand goes to my forehead, moving my blood-soaked hair from my eyes. I cough hard. Blood spills onto my lips.
His deep voice vibrates through his chest, “Do you need to say goodbye to anyone?”
My voice is thready as I ask, “I’m dying?”
“Yes. I cannot save you.”
I think of Nicolas—his beautiful brown eyes, boyish grin—so kind and so perfect. Being in my husband’s arms was what I wanted for my life once, but that’s so far away now. Is he still alive somewhere out there?
I hope I never see Nicolas again, I think. A tear falls from beneath my lashes.
He’d never understand that I’m not the same person with whom he fell in love. I’m not her anymore. I’ve done things that he can’t ever know about—things he could never forgive. I’d never be able to look him in the eyes again. I’m broken. I think of Xavier...my British officer. He’d needed me to stay here—to gain information to sabotage my enemy’s evacuation of weapons. In exchange, he said he’d help me escape when the time was right. Will he ever find out what happened to me?
“No,” I gasp. “There’s no one.” I’m cold. My lips tremble.
“There will be no pain where you’re going,” the angel murmurs. He strokes my hair.
“Where am I going?”
“Home.”
“You sound sad...” I cough again and taste more blood. “Why are you sad?”
“I wish I was going with you.”
“You want to go home?”
“More than anything.”
“Then come with me.”
“I’m not allowed back unless I’m called. After what I just did, I will never go home again.”
“You did something wrong?”
“I’ve broken the law.”
“How?”
“I hunt evil. This place has drawn my prey near to it. The one I sought to destroy was helping the human I ended down there.” He moves his chin in Emil’s direction. “I’d been waiting for the fallen one to return. Byzantyne is never far away from his charge.”
“Byzantyne…” I say the name that feels familiar to my tongue. With effort, I extend my cool fingers and rest them against the angel’s cheek. Startled by the contact, his head moves back from me. After a moment though, he leans into my palm, lifting his hand to cover mine and hold it in place. Our eyes connect.
“I’m never to interfere with humans,” he whispers, like a confession. “I saw what Byzantyne’s human was doing to you and I should have walked away. But I couldn’t! Not this time! He shouldn’t get to live after what he did to you. He needed to die. My only regret is that it hadn’t been more painful for him.”
“Emil was bad,” I whisper, trying to calm him.
“To his core,” the angel agrees. “The only angels coming for his soul will be from Sheol.”
“They’ll come for me, too?”
The angel shakes his head. “No. Not you.”
I feel a flood of relief at his absolute surety that I will be spared that fate. “What’s urr name...” I slur.
“Shh …” He tries to soothe me; his fingers thread through mine. My hand leaves his face as he holds it.
“Your name?” I insist in a raspy voice.
“Reed.”
“Reed.” The sound of his name is a benediction.
A tremendous rumble of thunder roars around us, shaking the carriage house. Dust falls from the rafters even after the angry sound fades.
“What’s happening?” I ask, fear bright in my eyes.
“I’ve made Paradise angry. They’ll be coming for me.”
“Why?”
“I killed a human.”
“He was killing me. You protected me.”
“And I’d do it again.”
“What’s going to happen to you?”
“I’ll be executed.”
“What? But, you’re good!”
“Am I? I really don’t know anymore. I think I’ve been here too long.”
“Why would you do this for me? Why would you try to sa
ve me?”
“I wanted it all to end…I wanted to go home to Paradise, but it never happened. And I saw you…and I watched you…and I knew—we’re the same, you and I. We’re both caught in the wheel and it just spins.”
Another violent crack of thunder rumbles around us, shaking the foundation of the carriage house. I shudder at the sound right before a high-powered beam of light comes through the ceiling and strikes me where I lay in Reed’s arms. It’s so bright, but it has no heat. My eyes roll back in my head…and I know. I have clarity, and with it savage fear blankets me. I can never beat Emil the way things are. I’ll be destined to be his slave in every future lifetime. I exist only to fight him, but he has all the weapons save one—love.
I can stop fighting Emil anytime. I can give up and remain in Paradise. But, if I don’t live another lifetime and defeat Emil, I’ll never be with Xavier again. If I don’t come back, there is no purpose in having a guardian angel. He will be taken from me. This is the price to be with my Angel—horrific death over and over and over… The light ends. Everything is darker in its absence, especially the knowledge that it left behind.
I glance at Reed. This Power angel has attempted to save me, even at his own peril. He would change my destiny, just because he couldn’t tolerate one more moment of Emil hurting me. Divine angels will be here soon with only vengeance to impart to Reed. He won’t survive it. He’s broken the law by saving me! Sheol will have its revenge on him for what he’s done to Emil. He will never see Paradise again. He’ll cease to be!
I unthread my fingers from Reed’s. Gripping his wing, my hand curls around a silky, gray feather. I tear it from him, clutching it in my fist. “I’ll come back for you, Reed. I’ll meet you in my next life. I swear it. Wait for me! I won’t let them hurt you!”
Reed caresses my swollen cheek and murmurs, “You can’t save me.”
“I will save you,” I promise him. “You will go home one day!”
Angels ride in on the storm swirling outside. Entering from above, they crash through the ceiling, the windows, and the door. A swarm of them hover in the air in the center of the room. Black wings of Thrones and bold blue wings of Cherubim flail around us. Reed eases me off of his lap and settles me beside him against the rough wood planks of the wall. The moment he lets go of me, two Cherubim with lion-like features swoop down upon him and tear Reed away into the air. He’s flown into the center of the carriage house. He goes willingly, accepting his fate. A Cherub with golden hair emerges from the crowd.
Iniquity (The Premonition Series Book 5) Page 20