“It never occurred to her we were capable of undying devotion for a mere human. And it certainly never crossed her mind that despite her best manipulations and sacred edict, a few precious Nephilim had been born.”
Dread scraped a skeletal claw along her spine. She’d wanted to know the missing segment of his history, to understand what had made archangels decide to never love again. But now that he appeared willing to tell her, she didn’t want to know.
I’m afraid to know.
But he was waiting for her to ask the question. Did he believe that by sharing the past with her, the magnitude of his misplaced guilt might diminish?
She was being ridiculous. This wasn’t about her.
“What did she do?”
“Why am I telling you all this?” He speared his fingers through her hair and held the back of her head. “I’ve never told anyone of my past. Why you? Why now?”
“I don’t know. Why not?”
Once again, his gaze raked over her face, searching for something he knew he would never find. Because the one he truly wanted in his arms had perished long ago.
Don’t weep for something that can never be. He had never promised her anything more than to protect her.
“Our goddess walked the Earth.” There was a fatalistic note in his voice that sent warning prickles racing across her skin. “To see for herself why we were so enamored. She found those willing to betray our secrets. They told her how those archangels who fell waited, life after mortal life, until their beloved was reborn. And they told her of our Nephilim.”
And the heavens opened, and the seas rose, and escape was denied to all those with tainted blood.
It was more than a random thought. It was what she had always known but been unable to access. Images of tsunamis, erupting volcanoes, and devastating earthquakes saturated her mind in terrifying detail.
Stop.
They weren’t memories. She wasn’t recalling long ago events.
I’m only imagining how it must have been.
After all, the stories of that catastrophic time had been handed down through the ages, generation after generation, in every major culture across the planet. The reason may have become lost in time, but the terror of the devastation had survived.
“She sent the flood to destroy everything.” Her voice was hushed with the horror of it. She already knew the answer.
“No.” His stark response was unexpected, and she frowned, uncertain. “She didn’t have to. The geophysical upheavals of that time were simply a part of the natural cycle of the celestial clock. The floods came anyway.”
That made more sense than the devastation being nothing more than the vindictive actions of a spurned goddess.
But there was still more he hadn’t yet told her. He loathed his goddess. And the only reason she could imagine for such hatred was because that Alpha Immortal was responsible for the death of his beloved and their daughter.
“Could she have prevented it, if she’d wanted to?”
“There was originally another planet in this solar system,” he said, seemingly oblivious to her question. “Called Nibiru. But it was more than a planet. It was the City of Archangels, where we’d been created and where our goddess occasionally resided. More importantly, it was immune to the natural forces that govern any normal planet.”
They would be safe on Nibiru. Although many would perish on Earth, with the exodus, enough would survive to start again. To recreate their society and pass on their knowledge to future generations …
Where were these thoughts coming from? What’s happening to me? Or was this how it had started with her mother? Not the gradual fading of her old life, as Aurora had always believed. But the certainty that she had lived another life altogether?
“You wanted to save the people,” she said, because of course he had. “By taking them to your city.”
“We couldn’t have saved them all.” It was obvious that still razed his soul, even after all this time. “You have to understand something. Their civilization was ancient long before we discovered their continent. They had studied the heavens for millennia, passing on their knowledge from one generation to the next. They’d unearthed the secrets of the past, and with mathematical precision, gained foreknowledge of their future. The celestial body they had charted for so long would slingshot around Earth, and the apocalypse would come.”
He said it with such finality. She didn’t doubt him for a second.
“But they were trying to find ways to stop it?” It’s what any advanced civilization would do.
“No. That was never their design. It was carved into their collective consciousness that they wouldn’t all survive. It had been an accepted facet of their future for countless generations.” He dragged in a heavy breath. “I’m not saying they were happy about it. But they channeled their energy into preserving what they could pass down through the ages to descendants far in the future.”
But nothing had survived. No one had ever heard of this great, doomed, civilization, except perhaps in myths or fairy tales. A strange sorrow pierced her at that forlorn knowledge.
“What happened?” she said softly, even though deep in a shadowy corner of her mind, she could guess.
“We offered the chance of escape for a select few thousand.” A trace of bitterness edged his voice. “But the plan leaked, and it was like a dam exploded. While the people had accepted their predestined fate and the odds of perishing, they absolutely weren’t ready to accept the kind of intervention we offered. Not when we couldn’t offer it to everyone. Their once peaceful society dissolved into anarchy. They sold us out to our goddess and then hunted down the innocent.”
He drew in a deep breath. “We didn’t discover this until afterwards. If we’d known, we would never have answered her call. Never have returned to Nibiru. And she would never have had the chance to neutralize us, while on Earth tsunamis crashed across continents and the tectonic plates pulled apart. And life as we had known it was all but eradicated.”
Silence vibrated in the air, but frantic fragments of disjointed thoughts—memories? —tumbled through her mind.
I always knew he had not forsaken us. He didn’t willingly sever our telepathic link. One day I will return to him …
This was crazy. A sign of desperation. Was she really trying to fool herself that in a previous life she had been Gabe’s beloved?
Yet how easily she could let herself believe it. But it was a fantasy.
She would not allow her reality to blur.
Tenderly, she cradled his face between her palms. He had promised to save the ones he loved and been unable to keep his word. This was the crux of his guilt, and he had never been to blame.
How could he have known the extent of his goddess’ wrath?
No wonder he hated her.
Maybe she shouldn’t say any more. He had shared so much. Yet she could no sooner stop breathing as hold her tongue.
“And when it was over, she released you?”
“No. We revolted against her. Destroyed our City and annihilated the whole damn planet in our battle for freedom. But we were too late. Earth had reset her clock. And the human gene pool had been cleansed.”
“I’m so sorry.” It was a useless thing to say, but she had nothing else.
Without releasing her, he rolled onto his side, so they faced each other.
“It was my fault. We’d decided long ago to save our own—our beloved, the Nephilim, and current lovers. But I suggested we try and preserve the nucleus of the civilization as well. If I hadn’t done that, there wouldn’t have been the uprising. Our goddess wouldn’t have discovered our plan until we’d executed it. Until it was too fucking late for her to do anything about it.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” How could she make him believe that? But after so long, what hope did she have of changing his conviction?
“I’ve never forgiven humans for how they betrayed us to our goddess. And as the Earth shifted around them, they turned their
wrath on our Nephilim and murdered them.” Futile rage blazed in his eyes and smoldered her heart.
That vilification of the archangels’ beloved children had survived countless ages, twisting something that was pure and beautiful into a monstrous travesty of the truth. No wonder he had never forgiven humans.
“After the destruction of Nibiru, we shunned Earth and explored the universe. We’d never been inclined to do that, before.”
“But you live on Earth,” she whispered, and even though deep in her heart she knew why he did, she couldn’t say it.
“It’s our curse. It doesn’t matter how far we travel or where we make our homes. The Earth calls to some primitive core deep inside us. Whether we live here or not, few of us can stay away for more than a few decades. Ironic, isn’t it?”
It wasn’t ironic. She knew why he couldn’t stay away. And this time the words came, each one ripping a little more from her aching heart. “It’s because you know that one day your beloveds will be reborn.”
This time the silence was so profound she thought she’d pushed him beyond his limits. She threaded her fingers through his. It didn’t matter that his confession would crush what remained of her fragile hopes that he might one day feel more for her. All that mattered was he speak of his past, and that somehow it would help heal his wounded soul.
He raised their joined hands and focused on their entwined fingers. “We knew it would take millennia for humans to recover from the brink of extinction. We deluded ourselves that, eventually, the odds would once again be in our favor.”
Finally, he looked up at her, and the raw despair in his eyes pierced her soul. “But the odds have never been in our favor, Aurora, because we were never meant to exist. Humans were never supposed to fall in love with us. We watched our beloved Nephilim die, knowing our blood in their veins damned them. How could we put the ones we loved through that, life after life? How could we keep going through that, again and again?”
Her throat ached with unshed tears for all that he’d told her. And everything that he hadn’t.
And no matter how she tried to ignore it, the insidious certainty that she had known Gabe in another time haunted her.
She was reaching, she knew it. But he’d just told her that, in time, their loved ones would be reborn. If she discounted the possibility that her mind was failing, how else could she explain the flashes of knowledge she’d experienced? The eerie certainty she had once understood the language of the ancients and that once Gabe had wrapped his incomparable wings around her?
Was it possible she was the one he had loved so fiercely, so long ago?
He had irrevocably lost his daughter, but wouldn’t he embrace the chance of loving his child’s mother, once more?
“But what about you?” She pressed his knuckles against her heart. “Have you never searched for her? For your beloved?”
“No.” There was chilling finality in that one word that sent shivers scuttling over her exposed flesh. Why did I ask him that? She wasn’t ready for the answer. But she couldn’t take it back, now. “Eleni—my beloved—wasn’t a full-blood human like most of the beloveds. She was part Nephilim—descended from an archangel. Our beloveds were our soul mates, but because of her heritage Eleni didn’t possess a soul. If she had, I would have searched for her until the end of time.”
Pain crushed her heart, all-encompassing, and fragile hopes and elusive dreams crumbled into dust, as though they had never existed.
Because they had never existed outside of her frighteningly vulnerable mind.
She had never loved Gabe in a previous life. And although he couldn’t search for Eleni, he would never stop loving her until the end of time.
And perhaps not even then.
“I know what you’re thinking.” He stirred restlessly, and panic clawed through her. He couldn’t know what she’d been thinking. Please don’t let him have guessed of my stupid hopes. “Eleni wasn’t immortal. She would have died eventually, and there would have been no hope of us ever being together again. I know that. Always knew it. But she was taken before her time.”
His fingers tightened around hers, as though willing her to understand. But she did. He didn’t have to try and justify his love to her.
“Nephilim, even when their blood is diluted by generations as Eleni’s was, still lived longer than pureblood humans. We could have had a thousand years or more together. Not long, not for me, but longer than we had.”
She closed her eyes against the bleak expression that clouded his eyes and pressed her lips against his knuckles. This was all he could give her. It wasn’t enough, but maybe it was enough to know that once he had been capable of a love she had only ever dreamed could exist.
And maybe it was enough to know that she, too, was capable of such love.
For her beloved, damaged, Archangel of … Mercy.
Chapter 28
Aurora
Dressed in long black pants, leather boots, and black top, Aurora figured she looked the part for a trip into a pirate’s lair. Not that Gabe was any more willing about taking her to the Fornax system than he had been last night, but at least he’d stopped arguing.
They were sitting in the kitchen, facing each other, and he was painstakingly initiating telepathic contact with her.
His touch was delicate and electrifying, nothing like the day they’d met, when his intrusion had been the equivalent of a casual glance.
It was hard to remain perfectly still and relaxed when his mind brushed hers in a sensual caress, as he wove elusive links and connections between them.
Her brain simmered with denied arousal, and she dug her teeth into her lip to keep her focused. Not that he appeared able to read lascivious thoughts, for which she was intensely grateful.
“Am I hurting you?” He ground the words between his teeth, as though he was in physical pain. “I’m going as slow as I can. Your brain is beautiful.”
She totally melted. “You say the most wonderful things.”
“I don’t want to inadvertently damage you. I’ve no idea how deep inside your brain your protective network penetrates.”
Until she’d met Gabe, she’d had no idea she possessed such a thing. Did her mother even know about it? Or was it such a part of her people’s biology that it was hardly worth commenting on?
And that reminded her.
“What did my mum say to you when you met her?”
Fierce concentration etched his face. She shouldn’t have distracted him. But then he gave a pained grunt and caught her gaze.
“She told me to keep you safe.”
Considering the circumstances, she’d been expecting something more profound. “Was that all?”
“No.” He sounded reluctant. “She—” He reared back and bit out a curse in that ancient language he favored, and alarm streaked through her.
“What’s wrong?” Had he discovered something terrible lurking deep inside her brain?
“Nothing.” He withdrew from her mind, and she gave an involuntary sigh. “Just received a message from Zad. Another archangel. He’s at the beach and on his way here. Talk about crap timing.”
Had Zad turned up to continue what Mephisto had started? From the corner of her eye she saw a figure emerge from the forest, and trepidation snaked through her as she followed Gabe onto the terrace.
He threaded his fingers through hers and pulled her to his side, a blatant gesture of possession. Was he expecting trouble from Zad?
“Zad.” Gabe didn’t sound overly friendly. “Caught me at a bad time. I’m late for an appointment.”
Mesmerized, she gazed at Zad as he came to a halt by the edge of the terrace. His mahogany wings were coated in fine dust and were ragged around the edges. He was dressed casually enough in black jeans and shirt, but understated power radiated from him, as tangible as a living entity.
Why did she find that comforting?
“I was passing,” Zad said, his voice deep and melodic, and she still couldn’t tear her gaze
from his dark eyes. “Thought I’d stop by.”
“Like I said.” Gabe sounded defensive, although she couldn’t think why. “I’m seeing Kala. You know how she is if kept waiting.”
Was that the pirate they were scheduled to meet?
“Not personally.” Zad shot her another glance. “Don’t let me keep you. I’ll stay here and entertain your guest.”
“No need. Aurora’s coming with me.”
“You’re taking a human to the Fornax Galaxy?” Zad didn’t raise his voice, but fury throbbed through each word. Fascinated, she glanced between the two archangels. What was going on? Why did Zad give the impression he was concerned about her welfare when he’d never even met her before?
Equally, why wasn’t she irritated by his interference? Especially when she’d fought so hard to accompany Gabe to his meeting.
“She’s under my protection.” Gabe was obviously irritated enough for them both. “No one touches her.”
Zad turned to her and held out his right hand, palm up. His gaze meshed with hers and his challenge was blatant.
“Zadkiel,” he said.
She placed her left hand on top of Zad’s. “Aurora Robinson.”
He held her hand longer than was strictly necessary, but there was nothing predatory about it. Even Gabe’s death grip on her other hand relaxed.
“I once knew your parents,” he said, and she gaped at him, speechless. Before she had time to even process his comment, never mind respond, he took a step back and unfurled his wings. “Look after her, Gabe.”
With that, he soared into the sky and she watched, awestruck, until he disappeared over the forest.
She turned to Gabe, who was glowering into the distance.
“What did he mean?” she asked. “How can he know my parents?”
“Beats me. I think your mother thought I was him at first.”
“What?”
He shrugged, like he didn’t care, but she saw the frustration. He really was as clueless as her. “I’ll ask him, if you want me to.”
Redemption: A Realm of Flame and Shadow Novel Page 21