Warring Angel

by Samantha L. Strong

  She gave me an exaggerated wink. “We need to talk, and soon, but—”

  “Chana!”

  “—first, the Vycanums!” She pointed. “Look, something is going on in the village. That seems more pressing right now.”

  I jumped into the air. One great swath of houses had been battered and broken, with pieces of roof and hut strewn about. The rest of the village was intact, but feathers rested on rooftops and blood—both blue and black—soaked the ground.

  “Where are all the villagers?” I asked.

  “They’re praying,” she said. “Most of them are in the Temple, but some are in the houses, and a lot of them are gathered outside. Look.”

  They were, indeed. Brown-robed, kneeling on mats, sitting in the lotus position, lifting their hands, or bowing their heads. On the dais in the Temple, an Archangel—the one I’d summoned when Talin took ill—was sitting with the Matron and Patron.

  “They’re praying for the strength of their village!” I said. “They were under demonic attack, and I told them to pray to protect themselves. We couldn’t lose our most important source of power in the battle.”

  “When the Nephilim left, why didn’t they start praying for Normandy?”

  “I never came back. I told them that no matter what, they weren’t to stop praying until I returned. The Matron and Patron take their duties seriously. They’ll stop for no one but me.”

  “What’s been happening while I was out?”

  I returned her exaggerated wink. “We need to talk, and soon, but first the Vycanums.”

  She groaned.

  “There is indeed much you missed while you were in a coma.”

  “Including a marked improvement on your sense of humor, apparently.”

  She was right, though—talking could wait until later. I half-expected Asorat to appear over the tree-covered mountain, shaking his fist at an invisible bubble. “So that’s why he didn’t follow us. He can’t get into the village and he knows it.”

  “The new Archangel must have dispatched the other platoons to France,” I said. “They need all the strength they can get. Let’s go, and quickly.”

  I grabbed Chana, ready to lift her in the air, when I remembered I didn’t need to. I grinned at her, and she grinned back, her satisfaction bouncing around inside me as though it were my own.

  “Nice wings.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “No time to dally. We need to rally the Vycanums to pray that the battle on Earth is going well. They’re invading Normandy…” I glanced at the black-clouded sky, as if it could tell me how our army was faring, and sighed, “… right about now.”

  CHAPTER 43

  After a brief conversation with the Matron and Patron, I set a small group to pray to protect the village, another group for Asorat’s power to falter in Heaven, and the rest for the success of the Normandy battle. They bowed and agreed, and this time, I told them that any of my delegates—their Archangel, for instance—could relay new instructions.

  “Now what?” asked Chana.

  “Let’s go down by the sea to talk.”

  “You’re the boss. I can’t believe you’re the boss now.”

  I had to find out what had happened to Chana before I charged into Normandy. I would be no help there, anyway. We no longer had access to the maps and resources in the Praetorium, and the Archangels overseeing the battle were more experienced with that kind of thing, anyway.

  Plus, I didn’t want to return to the responsibilities awaiting me. With the Council gone, the many denizens of Heaven who’d pledged their loyalty to me would expect me to have answers I didn’t possess.

  I wasn’t ready for that.

  The dark clouds were rolling away, and the ocean sparkled as I set down on the beach. With our departure from Vycanus, our ability to interact with Earth was fading. The grains of sand beneath my feet were cool and damp, but the sensation was slipping away. I lifted the hem of my pants and dipped a toe in the water, for the feel of it.

  “All right,” I said. “Tell me everything.”

  Chana laughed, a richer sound than before. It was refined, mature—as though she’d grown decades in her months in a coma. She took me by the elbow, pulled me toward her. “It’s so good to see you again, Enael.”

  Our proximity was uncomfortable. During our last conversation, she’d kissed me and I’d rejected her. So much had happened since then. “Same to you.” I pulled back, but she caught me by the hand. “You’re looking well, for someone who just went through the most surprising transformation I’ve ever seen.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.” Her familiar smile warmed me.

  “You’re keeping me in suspense. Why are you keeping me in suspense?”

  She laughed again. “I do love drama.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “I’ve had an interesting few… decades. I have many things to tell you, but I should start with the simplest. Do you recall how I said that I didn’t even know my true name? Only the Source did?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s no longer true. I know who I am. Who I was.”

  I shivered. Her grip loosened and I moved away.

  She was taller. No—she was growing, inch by inch, until she was half a head taller than me.

  No. It can’t be. It’s not possible.

  Her features changed, maturing from early adulthood to middle age. Her nose warped, her eyes moved, her cheeks morphed, her lips plumped. Stubble broke out across her chin and upper lip, and her long locks shrank until they were short and spiky.

  And then, standing before me, where Chana had been a moment before, was Voctic.

  I stepped backward into the water. “No.”

  “Aren’t you glad to see me, Enael?” he said.

  “No!”

  I didn’t know what I felt. “You were dead. I put your remains into the Source.”

  “And then Chana came out of the Source.”

  “Where’s Chana? I want Chana back!” Tears sprang to my eyes from a sudden grief over losing Chana.

  “I am Chana.”

  As he said it, his face turned feminine, his features morphed, and he was Chana again. But then everything snapped back and he was Voctic.

  “I’m here. I’ve been here all along. I remember everything. And for what I remember, I’m so, so sorry.”

  “You… Why would the Source… ?”

  “For one thing, It needs me to help stop the Aleph. I know who the Aleph is. I know what it’s doing.”

  “It? You’re standing here telling me you know who it is and you’re still going to play the pronoun game?”

  “Calm yourself.” He reached out a hand. “Little One—”

  “Don’t.”

  He drew back. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I thought maybe the nickname— I didn’t realize how much it hurt you. Or, no, that’s not true. I did and I used it anyway. I was wounded. No. No! I have no excuses. I’m so, so sorry, Enael, but I’m still Chana, the same woman you’ve been friends with for decades now. It’s all in here.” He tapped his temple.

  I splashed away from him, barely feeling the water any more. We were almost faded from the physical world. I wanted to fly to the Nexus, sit down on a cushion, and have some very stern words with the Source. But now, with Asorat’s spell still numbing our connection despite my bronze wings, I could barely even feel It.

  How could You do this?

  “Please, let me explain,” said Voctic. “I’m begging you. Humbly. Please listen.”

  When I turned around to admonish him—though for what, I knew not, only that I was upset and confused—he was on his knees in the sand, hands clasped together, head tipped upward. A drop of seawater had caught in his eyelashes, and his face was so achingly handsome. He’d never been this open before, but I didn’t want to listen to him.

  But the Source had done this. The Source had taken him in, made him a Dominion, and sent him to me in the form of Chana. I didn’t want to hear, but I n
eeded to give him—and It—a chance.

  “Speak,” I said.

  “Can I… ?” He looked down where he was kneeling. “No? All right. Well, let me get more comfortable.” He leaned back and dropped his hands into his lap. “A lovely day on the beach, this is.”

  I folded my arms.

  “When you killed me, it was bliss. The world faded and I became nothing. I could sense everything around me, but the compulsion the Aleph had put on me—”

  “You’re really not going to tell me who it is yet?”

  “I’ll get to it.”

  Same old Voctic. “You know we’re in the middle of a war? That the humans are throwing themselves against Germany in the desperate hope that they’ll break Asorat’s power and reclaim Heaven? And that their dead souls have nowhere to go since he’s taken over Heaven?”

  He blinked. “Ah, no. I didn’t know all of that. You do recall I’ve been in a coma? But it’s important that you understand all this. You have to know what the Aleph’s plans are, so you know how to stop it. I’ll talk faster. Can I get up yet?”

  “No.” I smirked. Being in charge for once is fun.

  He resettled himself. “Where was I? Ah, yes, dead. At peace. When you put me into the Source, I was blissful. You can’t even imagine what being inside It is like. I could feel all of Its thoughts, and they were magnificent. Most of my recollection has faded, but the overwhelming peace of It… Honestly, a small part of me is sad for being here, now, as Voctic again.”

  He wore a look of rapture such as I’d never seen before. Gone was the joking good humor, the self-deprecation, the half-joking narcissism. He meant every word of what he was saying. His experience had changed him.

  “I’ve done bad things. I’ve done terrible things. But the Source embraced me. Reminded me that it wasn’t my fault. Washed my self-loathing away. I spent months—maybe years—being told over and over again that I was good, that It loved me, that It never wanted what the Aleph had done to me. I’m a victim as much as you are. It whispered that It had plans for me, and that I was important in Its fight. Do you know how amazing that can be? Freeing?”

  I shook my head.

  “I spent a long time regretting what I’d done to you, trying to figure out what I should have done instead, but in the end, the Source reminded me that doesn’t matter. It was only once I’d come to forgive myself that I could move on, and when I did, It told me it was time for me to leave. So we devised a way for me to start over.”

  “Becoming Chana.”

  His laugh was strained. “When I was reborn, I had no idea who I had been. It was like I was human, being born into life on Earth, with the shroud heavy upon everything I’d done before. And because I apparently still have the same sense of humor, I got to live as a young, confused angel pining after her mentor. It was the last step in forgiving myself for what I did to you.”

  I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You pined after me?”

  His cheeks colored, and for an instant, I could see Chana inside, even though he still looked like Voctic. “You couldn’t tell? When I kissed you, I was mortified when you didn’t return my affection. I thought you knew.”

  “No. I knew something strange was going on. All of this explains why I felt that way. But I had no idea how much Chana—you—were pining after me.” I chortled. “Pining?”

  He dropped his head.

  “Oh, get up. Stop moping. You’d do the same in my position.”

  When he raised his head and came to his feet, he was smiling. “Yes, I would. It’s much less than I put you through. I’m truly sorry.”

  “I… I can’t forgive you.” I was in shock. “Not yet. You tried to kill me. I know it wasn’t your fault, but this is so much all at once.”

  “I understand.”

  I was stunned. He’d never been understanding before. Teasing, snide, flirtatious—but not understanding.

  “At some point, I stopped trying to fight the Aleph. I was exhausted. It was easier to go along with its orders. That was the hardest to forgive myself for. I don’t expect you to, at least not right away.” He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

  “You’re just trying to seduce me again.”

  He winked. “I told you, even as Chana, I pined after you. We’re not finished, Enael.”

  A thrill shot through me. It was no longer tinged by the guilt I’d felt before when I’d contemplated Voctic and what might have been.

  He was grinning. “I like that look in your eye.”

  “Oh, no,” I said. “We have a war to win. You keep your pants on, young lady.”

  He chuckled. “Little One—”

  “No. No more with that. I never liked it and I don’t like it now.” I felt strong, powerful, telling him how I felt without fearing a loss from being honest. “We are, at the very least, equals now, and I expect to be treated as such.”

  His face fell. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. I’m not saying that I’m giving you another chance, but I will say that if you want me to think about giving you another chance, you’d better respect what I want.”

  “Absolutely. I want to prove to you that I’ve changed. I’ll do whatever it is you ask and more until you believe me. And then I’ll continue to prove it to you for the rest of eternity.”

  My chest squeezed at his proclamation. “We still share some kind of bond.”

  “Before I left to become Chana, the Source said It would wipe away all prior connections. I asked it to keep mine with you. I was afraid of losing you. That’s why you could feel my emotions as Chana—but I couldn’t feel yours. I didn’t think that would be fair.”

  Voctic, afraid? “But you’re no longer fully Voctic-Tatalm.” I could say his previous true name easier, without the usual weight of the words upon my tongue.

  “That’s true. I don’t want to burden you with my true name, not until you want it. And I no longer know yours, Enael—” He shook his head. “It’s like chasing a memory around my mind, there once but no longer. The Source took it.”

  Years in the Source. More years as a Dominion. I couldn’t fathom what he’d been through to end up standing on this beach with me. I needed time to think about everything he’d revealed, but—

  “There’s something else I need to know,” I said.

  “Anything.” He stepped toward me and parted his lips in a seductive gesture that warmed me in such a familiar way.

  “Stop that.” I pushed his shoulder, and the contact sent a thrill up my arm. “What did I just say about being in the middle of a war?”

  “Sorry again.” Then he winked.

  He’s not going to stop. But I was all right with that because the flirting was harmless and fun—as long as we could focus on the task at hand. We would have plenty of time after the war was over to sort out our past… and future. “You said you can tell me who the Aleph is.”

  “Yes,” he said. “You see, when I was inside the Source, all of the ties to this world fell away. I came out with a new true name. All of the things it commanded me to do, I no longer have to do. You and I still have the bond, although…” he scratched his head, “… I no longer remember your true name. Still, that’s a subject for another—”

  “Enough!” I shouted. “Just tell me who it is!”

  “Oh, sorry! Sorry. Yes. The Aleph…” He grinned, prolonging the moment, and I almost shouted again, “…is your former Archangel.”

  “You?”

  “No, no, no. The Aleph is your former Archangel when you were a Guardian. The Aleph is Rehniah.”

  CHAPTER 44

  “No,” I declared. “It can’t be Rehniah. She’s not a Seraph. Plus she knows my true name.”

  “She’s not, she does, and she’s the Aleph.”

  “No!” The shock from before deepened. Was anything he’d said just now true? She can’t be. She just can’t. “She’s been working with Heaven all along. She protected me!”

  “I thought you said we had a war
to win. Are we going to argue over this all day?”

  “You’re teasing me. We don’t have time for this.”

  “Reach for the Source. I know It’s hard to feel, but It’s there. Reach and confirm it.”

  But I knew. I didn’t have to ask the Source. Everything fit. Her cold, calculating manner when she’d been my Archangel. How she’d always been available but kept me at arm’s length. Pushing Kaspen on me to make me run to her—but I hadn’t. An ancient being set on dominating Heaven and Earth didn’t realize how small she’d made me feel when I was in her charge.

  “Zaponsla and I found a book that spoke about how a Seraph revoked his or her position on the Council. I didn’t get any further because that’s when Asorat attacked. Have you ever been in the Ancient Collection?”

  “Yes, many times, unfortunately. Early on, when I thought I might be able to stand up to her, I even helped the Keepers try to arrange that horrible place, for all the good it did. I spent a week ordering the books on one bookcase. When I went back in, half of them were missing. I never saw them again. No idea where they went.”

  “Did you discover anything that might help us now?”

  “Yes.” He ran a hand across my wings. “They’re such a strange color. So beautiful. If you look closely, you can see hints of every color within the feathers. They meld together to create this bronze. It truly is amazing, Cornerstone.”

  “Voctic! Why are you doing this to me?”

  “There’s the feisty Enael I know. And here I thought you were all business now, ordering Nephilim here and commanding the Matron and Patron there.” He continued running his fingers through my feathers.

  “Oh, stop!”

  But I was grinning happily as I squinted against the setting sun. For the first time in hundreds of years, I was feeling happy, truly happy. Waves lapped against the sand and roared out to sea, and I was standing here, on this beach, with Voctic.

  I wanted to believe everything he’d said: he was sorry, he was free, and he truly wanted me. Whether it was a good idea or not, I was realizing I had always loved him—yes, despite myself—and now my love was expanding to include all the beautiful Chana parts of him. And this time, he did love me back. And after all he’d been through, he might actually be worthy of my love.