Echoes and Embers (Rebel Angels)

by Cyndi Friberg

  Bright golden hair, not unlike Sariel’s own, flowed in distinct waves to Michael’s shoulders. His robe was pristine white and elaborately embellished with angelic script. “What can I do for you?”

  “Are you aware of Alyssa’s progress?” Sariel moved away from the door. “She has made significant strides toward combating her web of lies.”

  Michael nodded, his intense gaze assessing. “Such has been reported to me. What is it you wish to know?”

  “How much longer will she be subjected to her malady and what becomes of her once the trial is over?”

  “None of the Rebel Angels were given a specific period of time to reform.” Michael turned as Sariel passed him and leaned a hip against the sturdy wooden table. “She is making strides in the right direction, but she has far to go. You have shared her memories. You understand all of this. What is it you really want to know?”

  Sariel balked at Michael’s candor. He’d hoped to ease into the subject. “Alyssa and I have developed feelings for each other. Her unique nature and mine naturally draw us together. I am forbidden to mate with the Daughters of Man, but Alyssa is an angel. If I take her as my mate, will I in any way compromise her recovery?”

  Michael folded his hands in front of his face and rubbed his lips with his index fingers. It was an odd, yet thoughtful pose. Sariel fidgeted as he waited for the answer.

  “I see no reason why developing a relationship with you would compromise her recovery.”

  Joy burst within Sariel, making him want to shout. She was not forbidden! They could be together—if he could control the beast.

  He cleared his throat and fought for a calm, neutral tone. “Generally I sanction such unions. Are you authorized to…would you consider…”

  “Are you asking for my blessing?”

  Squaring his shoulders, Sariel met Michael’s gaze directly. “Aye, I am. Will you bless the union of Alyssa and me?”

  “Contrary to what she may have told you, I don’t want the Rebel Angels to Fall. If your love for Alyssa makes her stronger, more focused on the Light, then by all means you have my blessing. Sariel, go claim your bride.”

  Chapter Seven

  Sariel wasn’t in the great hall when Alyssa returned. Disconcerted by her conversation with Gadrayel, she started toward the counting room. Until he could lawfully make Rosalind his? What had Gadrayel meant? Did he intend to court Rosalind if…if Sariel didn’t destroy her first?

  Alyssa’s steps faltered. Sariel couldn’t mean to kill Rosalind. Regardless of the complexities in her nature, Rosalind was not evil.

  She tapped on the counting room door, surprised to find it bolted. “Sariel?” A moment passed and she heard the bolt slide releasing the door. She reached for the latch, but the door swung inward and Sariel filled the threshold. “What are you doing?”

  His mouth parted in a slow, sensual smile, his gaze warm and caressing. “At sundown I will show you.”

  She sighed. Her memory was clearer now than it had been in decades, but no one was making sense. She was about to question him further when his head snapped up. He sniffed the air and lifted her out of his way. His wings unfurled in a blinding flash of golden light and he flew across the great hall.

  Stunned, Alyssa shook away the lingering dazzle and ran after him. He disappeared up the stairs, his speed accelerating beyond what her eyes could detect. A sharp scream rent the air as Alyssa reached the top landing. She darted down the corridor toward Rosalind’s bedchamber. Golden light emanated from the doorway, terrifying in its beauty.

  Rosalind screamed again. Alyssa skid to a halt just inside the threshold, mystified by the scene. Enos and Sariel battled with flaming swords. Each time the blades connected, metal grated and sparks flew into the air. Gadrayel stood at the foot of the bed, his wings spread wide, sword in hand. Rosalind huddled against the headboard, pale and terrified.

  Enos lunged, the sulfuric stench of evil swirled in a putrid cloud. Sariel deftly blocked the blow and slapped the demon with his wing. Enos flew backward, slamming into the wall. Roaring in rage and frustration, Enos charged again. Sariel brought his weapon up, tearing the sword out of Enos’ hand.

  Alarm twisted through Alyssa and she swung toward the bed. Gadrayel watched the fight, poised to assist if he was needed. Completely absorbed by the fray, he didn’t notice a shadow undulate on the other side of the bed, the faintest hint of a form.

  Alyssa advanced, studying the shadow. The stench of evil intensified. Her spine burned and her eyes stung. Alyssa leapt into the air, colliding with the entity as it solidified. Her momentum drove the creature backward and they landed on the floor beside the bed.

  Long silver hair tangled about the creature’s face. Alyssa trembled. Please God, nay! Not Lailah.

  The demon shrieked and bucked, clawing at Alyssa’s forearms as she straddled its chest. If Lailah had Fallen, she must be destroyed. Whoever this creature was, it had tried to harm Rosalind. For that alone, it would pay the price! Fierce protectiveness surged through Alyssa. She wrestled the demon’s arms over its head and pinned them against the floor with her knees.

  Alyssa’s hand trembled as she brushed the hair away from the demon’s face. Let it be anyone but Lailah. A sob caught in Alyssa’s throat. The demon’s features were delicate, beautiful…familiar.

  “Nay!” Alyssa cried, grief slicing through her like a blade.

  The demon opened its eyes and Alyssa gasped. Endlessly black and soulless, the creature stared back at her. “Enos told me he’d found you both. I didn’t believe him.”

  “Paimon?”

  “It’s been a long time.” Her glistening eyes narrowed. She laughed and disintegrated into vapor.

  Panting harshly, Alyssa struggled to her feet, stunned and weak with relief. It hadn’t been Lailah. But where was Lailah?

  Sariel stood in the middle of the room, sword still in hand, but his opponent had fled as well.

  Gadrayel opened his fist and his sword disappeared. He took two steps toward the bed, reaching for Rosalind. She screamed and scurried off the other side. Huddling in the corner, she crossed her arms over her chest, her terrified gaze darting from one angel to the next. “Are there no humans in all of Monthamn?” Her voice was sharp and shrill.

  Alyssa moved toward the frightened girl and felt her wings flutter. Her wings? Glancing over her shoulder, her breath escaped in a sudden rush. When had she unfurled her wings? How? The stinging pain, her sudden speed, without thought or effort, she had done what came naturally—protected her loved one.

  Visualizing the transformation, Alyssa managed to retract her wings. She glanced at Gadrayel. His chest heaved and his eyes gleamed, but he had also concealed his wings.

  “Rosalind, no one in this room is human,” Sariel stressed. Heaven’s light emanated from him and his wings rippled gracefully. He opened his hand, dispersing his sword, but he seemed in no hurry to repress his true nature. “We are here to protect you.”

  Alyssa’s heart lurched at his words. Why would he protect Rosalind if he believed she was evil? He could speak only truth. Should this give her hope?

  “Why do they want me?” Rosalind trembled visibly, her eyes wide and unblinking. “What have I done?”

  “I think it’s time we found out.” Sariel extended his hand toward Rosalind. Alyssa hadn’t felt the compulsion in his words, but Rosalind responded without hesitation. Placing her hand in his, Rosalind glanced again and again toward Gadrayel.

  “Perhaps you should introduce yourself,” Alyssa suggested.

  Cautiously approaching, Gadrayel looked to Sariel for permission before speaking to Rosalind. “I am Gadrayel of the Angelic Order of Grigori. Prince Sariel dispatched me to observe you, to judge your nature. I have failed in my mission. I don’t understand what I sense in you, but it is imperative that we figure it out.”

  “I thought angels couldn’t lie.” Her voice was stronger now, steadier. “You intentionally misrepresented yourself. Is that not the same thing?”
/>   “I’ve worked diligently as your gamekeeper. What have I misrepresented?”

  Rosalind narrowed her eyes, but Alyssa saw a rosy flush climb along her neck. The attraction between the two was palpable.

  “The female demon,” Sariel drew her attention, “you knew her by name.”

  Alyssa nodded. “But her name is all I recall. I sense that I have known her since before she Fell, but I cannot remember anything beyond her name.”

  “She looked like Lailah, or like Lailah would if she were evil.” Rosalind shuddered and pushed her hair out of her face.

  Sariel’s gaze settled on Alyssa. His expression promised a more lengthy conversation regarding Paimon, but he directed Rosalind back to the issue at hand. “Generally I give someone the opportunity to share their memories verbally before I invade their mind. I’m afraid we’ve run out of time for that consideration. I need to search the images in your memory and see if I can determine why Enos and Paimon are interested in you.”

  “I can’t believe he’s a demon,” Rosalind muttered. “I danced with him at court.”

  Suddenly struck by the complete inappropriateness of the situation, Alyssa snatched Rosalind’s dressing gown from the foot of the bed. “This is upsetting enough. Would you two please turn around?” Both males chuckled but did as she asked. After helping Rosalind into the garment, Alyssa told Sariel to continue.

  A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but his gaze gleamed, revealing the seriousness of the subject. “Enos has learned how to suppress his demonic nature so well he can effortlessly move among mortals. It is one of the things that makes him so dangerous.”

  “I knew there was something odd about him.” Rosalind buried her hands in the fullness of her dressing gown. She looked so young, so vulnerable. Alyssa wanted to hug and shelter her. “I felt it the first time he touched me.”

  “More proof that you are not a mere mortal,” Sariel told her. “Most humans would have no idea he was anything other than what he appeared.”

  “Would you be more comfortable if we moved into the antechamber?” Alyssa asked, keeping her tone casual and light.

  “Nay.” Rosalind looked at Sariel. “What do you want to do to me?”

  His smile was meant to soothe no doubt, but his height and commanding features made the expression almost predatory. He still hadn’t retracted his wings. Was he preparing Rosalind to accept the fact that she wasn’t human? Or was he simply unwilling to deny his true nature?

  “I will cast you into a deep sleep and search for the information I need. If the memories don’t seem to upset you, I’ll simply withdraw. If you are frightened by what I discover, I’ll suppress the memories before I sever the link.”

  Nodding absently, Rosalind glanced at Alyssa. “When Lord Diadem spoke with me at court, his interest seemed different than all the others. That’s why I avoided him. His questions were odd. They made me uncomfortable. It was as if he were not interested in me so much as… I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “What did he want to know?” Alyssa asked.

  “He approached me without an introduction, so his first few questions confirmed my identity.”

  That made no sense to Alyssa. Often an angel’s abilities grew stronger when they Fell. Demons frequently used the concept to tempt angels away from the Light. Why would he have approached her if he wasn’t sure who she was? “What did he ask after he was certain of your identity?”

  “Mostly questions about my grandmother. I didn’t understand how he could have known her. I didn’t think he was that much older than I.” She rubbed her arms through the sleeves of her dressing gown. A subtle tremor shook her body. “But if he is one of you, he—”

  “Enos is not one of us,” Sariel objected vehemently. “Never let his appearance deceive you. Enos is Fallen. What specifically did he wish to know?”

  “How many times Gram had wed. How many children she’d borne. When and how she died. Everything.”

  “He asked all of this about your grandmother? The woman who painted the images in the parish church?” Sariel rubbed his chin absorbed in contemplation.

  “Aye.” She fiddled with the belt on her dressing gown, her head bowed, her shoulders slumped. “He couldn’t have known. I wasn’t supposed to know.”

  Her voice barely reached Alyssa’s ears. She rested her hand on the middle of Rosalind’s back and the girl started. “What weren’t you supposed to know?”

  “My grandmother was taken against her will shortly after she wed my grandfather. Grandmother swears that she was already increasing when the attack took place, but there are those who believe my mother was a product of the violation.”

  A violent chill shook Alyssa. She looked at Sariel. Could this be the answer? Had Lady Catherine been ravished by a Grigori?

  “Thank you for sharing this, Rosalind.” Sariel furled his wings and softened his tone. “It will help me greatly when I begin my search.”

  “Can… Would it be all right if Ray held me while…”

  Gadrayel didn’t let her finish. He swept her into his arms and sat on the edge of the bed, cradling her against his chest. She clung to him, obviously comfortable in his embrace. Alyssa’s heart ached for the same sort of comfort, but Sariel was bound by a higher calling.

  Sariel knelt beside the bed and held out his hand. “When you’re ready, place your hand in mine.”

  Rosalind pressed her face against Gadrayel’s chest and hesitantly took Sariel’s hand. Gadrayel rocked her gently, whispering into her ear. Alyssa watched in silence, torn between trepidation and tenderness. Rosalind’s future would be determined in the next few minutes.

  Heaven’s light radiated from Sariel, expanding until it encompassed Rosalind and Gadrayel. Rosalind moaned, tossing restlessly. The light intensified. Gadrayel’s lips moved in silent prayer, his eyes squeezed shut.

  Afraid to distract them but too anxious to stand still, Alyssa crept to the window and eased open one side of the shutters. Twilight had descended beyond the window, painting the castle compound with a purple haze. Countless humans went about their business, oblivious to the spiritual warfare raging in their midst. At some other time, Alyssa might have found the thought amusing. Right now she felt only dread.

  Rosalind cried out, drawing Alyssa’s attention back to the bed. Sariel released her hand, speaking ancient words as he passed his hands over Rosalind’s head. Alyssa couldn’t understand what he said, but the rhythm of his speech was familiar. She used to know this language. There was so much she used to know.

  Gadrayel stood and placed Rosalind on the bed then they joined Alyssa at the window.

  “Is she all right?”

  “She’ll sleep through the night.” Sariel sounded distracted, thoughtful.

  “What were you able to learn?” Gadrayel asked.

  “I’m not sure. The images are skewed by a child’s perception. I’m still trying to unravel the intricacies.”

  Alyssa sensed his resistance. He understood far more than he was saying. “Did you see her father?”

  “Aye.” He heaved a sigh and looked out into the twilight.

  “Who was he?” Direct questions were harder to avoid. Alyssa had tired of his evasiveness long ago. She needed to know once and for all if Rosalind was a Nephilim.

  “His name was Balam.”

  “Balam?” Gadrayel gasped. “But she is not a Nephilim. I have sensed the nature of a Nephilim thousands of times and Rosalind is—”

  “Unique,” Sariel agreed.

  “Who is Balam?”

  Sariel turned toward her, leaning his shoulder against the window frame. The setting sun cast eerie shadows across his features, making him look sinister. Or perhaps it was just his gloomy mood.

  “Balam was one of our best. Strong, dependable, focused. I dispatched him on a mission and he never returned. After years of futile searching, I had no choice but to accept that he had Fallen.”

  “That’s not possible. Lord Baldwin of Monthamn is interred wi
th his wife beneath the parish church.”

  “I’ve heard it said that an angel can surrender their immortality to avoid Falling. I’ve never known anyone who did so, but I’ve heard it can be done.”

  “That would explain why we never sensed Balam’s Fall,” Gadrayel said. “If he surrendered without succumbing to corruption, he would have disappeared.”

  They spoke in hushed, urgent tones. Alyssa grew more anxious with every word they uttered. They shared information, but she was no less confused. What did it all mean? If an angel surrendered its immortality, what became of it? Where did it go? What did—?

  “Humans join our realm when they leave their mortal bodies. Our reality is what they think of as the afterlife.” Sariel answered her unspoken question.

  “Then what became of Balam? What becomes of the Nephilim you destroy?”

  “That’s two different questions. If Balam was about to Fall and he surrendered his immortality instead, his essence, his energy would have simply dispersed.”

  “But Gideon became mortal when he surrendered his immortality,” Alyssa said.

  “Gideon repented and was transformed. Balam simply surrendered.”

  “How sad.” She glanced at the bed where Rosalind slept. They were speaking of her father. “He no longer exists in any reality?”

  “If Balam was about to Fall,” Gadrayel put in, “he escaped an eternity of damnation. I say well done.”

  She still didn’t understand. Why were they being so evasive? All of these facts still danced around the real issue—Rosalind! “This doesn’t explain what you sense in Rosalind. Is she or is she not a Nephilim?”

  “If her father were Grigori and her mother—”

  “She is not a Nephilim. Her nature is far more complicated,” Gadrayel interrupted, his eyes gleaming dangerously.

  Sariel chuckled. “I agree. She is not a Nephilim. I don’t think there is a term for what she is.”

  Alyssa could stand the tension no longer. She stepped in front of Sariel and grabbed his upper arms. Resisting the urge to shake him, she looked deeply into his eyes. “Tell me exactly what you saw. Must Rosalind be destroyed?”