Silence filled the room. His heart pounded in his ears, ticking away time as he waited for Gabrielle to respond.
“For someone who’s a great poker player, you’re a terrible liar,” she finally said.
“Yeah, I’ve been told that before.”
“I didn’t mean to disturb you. If you need a few moments alone, I can have someone stand guard at the door to make sure no one enters.”
“No, I’m done here.” He let out a breath. She didn’t ask any questions as to why he was alone, kneeling like one of the fallen in front of Michael’s chair. She was too polite for that. It was the one thing he liked about her.
Her lips curled into a soft smile. If he wanted to ask her permission to stay on Earth, he should do it now. He opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat.
“Is there something you wanted to ask me?”
Ask her, moron.
His mouth grew dry, afraid he’d have to explain why he was asking. As an archangel, he didn’t need permission to go to Earth, but for any extended stays, he had to get approval from her or Michael. Gabrielle was his best bet. She was strict when it came to following angel law, and she was always bound to her duty, but she didn’t pry. The first time he’d left after the fight with Lash, she’d been the one to tell him to leave. Somehow she’d known he needed to go. And when he’d returned, she’d never questioned where he’d been.
“I, uh . . . ” He gazed at the candle in his hand, nervously rolling it between his thumb and finger.
He couldn’t do it. He knew he should go, but he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Naomi and not seeing her every day. And Lash . . . his throat grew thick again. Naomi was right. After all he and his best friend had been through, it would break his heart. Lash was finally happy, and he didn’t want to be the one to tear apart his happy world.
“Let me help you.” Gabrielle stepped closer and placed a delicate hand over his.
His eyes drifted up and gazed into her stunning face. He’d never been this close to her. He took in the way her cream-colored gown hugged her curves and the way her golden locks hung like fine silk. Her eyes were so vivid. They were a kaleidoscope of yellow and shades of green. He looked deeper into her eyes. It was as if a veil had been lifted, and he could see into the depths of her soul. There was great strength in her . . . and sadness.
Slowly, he lifted his hand and caressed her cheek. She was lovely. His hand didn’t hum with electricity the way it had when he touched Naomi. But there was a certain peace as he stood with her. She understood him. Maybe they were meant to be together, bound by their unrequited love—hers for Raphael and his for Naomi.
I wonder.
He dipped his head. His lips brushed over hers in a feather-light kiss.
6
There was nothing. No fire rushing over his body. No stomach quivering with anticipation of something more. It was like kissing his mother.
“That’s not what I meant, Jeremiel.” She bowed her head, stepping away.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” He sat down on the bottom step of the platform and ducked his head onto his hands. He was making a mess of everything. Was this what he could expect from now on—making inappropriate gestures in the most holiest of places? He’d kissed Gabrielle, for crying out loud!
He shook his head. There had to be something he could do about it. Somehow Gabrielle had managed to keep herself together, and she’d been doing it for centuries.
Slowly, he lifted his head. She had the answers. She had to tell him what to do.
“How did you do it?”
“Excuse me?”
“How did you do it, seeing him every day, knowing Raphael didn’t . . .?”
Pain flashed across her lovely face. He sucked in a breath at the sight of her anguish. All the years he’d worked with her, he’d never seen her like that. Her brow furrowed as she struggled to school her face and push back centuries of hurt and longing. Before he could apologize for bringing up Raphael, she held up her hand, silencing him.
“You know,” she said.
He nodded.
She closed her eyes a moment, thinking. When she opened them, she took a hesitant breath, as if she were undecided about asking a question to which she desperately wanted an answer. After taking that breath, the words spilled out.
“Does anyone else know?”
“I don’t think so.”
She gave a small nod, then turned and paced the floor. Her gown billowed as she moved. She wrung her hands, muttering, “I need to do better. Everyone will know.”
That’s just great. Now he’d made things worse. He shouldn’t have brought up Raphael.
“I won’t say anything about you and . . .”
She froze, her expression horrified.
I should shut up now. He grimaced and clamped his mouth closed.
“I’m not worried. I trust you. I thought . . . never mind.” She shook her head as if clearing whatever was worrying her and let out a slow breath. “So, you want to know how I do it?”
“Yes.”
She was silent for a moment. Her beautiful face changed from longing to happiness to pain, and then finally to the familiar stern expression.
“You just . . . do.”
“That’s it? There’s nothing else?” There had to be something. He’d try anything.
“There is nothing else. It gets better with time, or so I’ve heard from human philosophers. I’m not sure it applies to angels. Humans’ time is finite, whereas for angels it’s . . .”
“Forever,” he groaned. Reclining back against the steps, he gazed at the vaulted ceiling. Shadows from the candlelight danced on his handsome face as he studied the intricate gothic designs covering the vast hall. It was funny how humans wanted to live forever. If they only knew what living forever was really like.
What was he going to do?
“So the first time you left didn’t help you at all?” she asked.
“Yes . . . no . . . I don’t know. It was difficult at first to forget Naomi. I thought about her every day, and I didn’t know why I couldn’t let go of her. Knowing about our past together made it even—”
He stopped and turned his head to Gabrielle as she sat herself on the step next to him.
“What are you doing?” Her eyes widened as he leaned in close, inhaling.
“That scent.” He closed his eyes, smelling her neck again. It was a mixture of jasmine and coconut.
“It’s the lotion you brought me when you returned from your stay on Earth, remember?”
“Yeah, right.” Leaning back, he placed his elbows on the steps, letting his mind wander as he remembered his time on the garden island. Memories of trees heavy with plumeria blossoms, white sandy beaches, and surfboards ran through his mind.
“So your time on the island . . . I thought it helped you to be away.”
“Yes, it did.” So much had happened since he’d returned from Kauai, it seemed like it had been years. Actually, it had been years, in Earth time.
“You seemed to have had fun while you were away.”
He jolted up. What had she seen? Most of his time there he’d been moping around, walking the beaches until he’d met Sammy and Leilani.
He smiled, reminiscing. What a pair those two had been. A few weeks with them and he’d been back to feeling like his old self again, until . . .
He swallowed thickly, quickly turning his attention back to Gabrielle.
“You saw?”
“Of course I did. I gave you as much privacy as I could, but Michael wanted me to keep an eye on his most prized archangel. There are so few of us. He didn’t want to risk losing another. Besides, I’d never visited Kauai. It’s a beautiful island.”
“Yes, it is.”
She studied him for a moment, taking in the casual black shirt and jeans. It was so different from the fine tailored suits he used to wear. “You’ve changed so much since you left. You made a couple of human friends, too.”
“You saw that.”
And here we go. He waited for her reprimand and warning. Angels, especially the archangel of death, should never be close to humans. Don’t be friends with humans, and above all, don’t fall in love with them. It clouded their judgment and prevented them from doing their duty. He didn’t have to be reminded what could happen when an angel got too close to a human. All he had to do was look in the mirror.
“Yes, I did—some of it. My favorite part was the bubblegum. She’s an endearing girl. What was her name?”
He raised an eyebrow, surprised by her reaction. Either she was becoming more lax with the rules, or he really did look messed up and she didn’t have the heart to—what did the humans say?—kick a man when he’s down.
“Leilani.” As the name rolled off his tongue, he was surprised by the warm sensation in his chest. It was as if he were transported back to Kauai to Leilani and Sammy.
“You want to go back.”
“I . . .” He didn’t know how to answer. Emotions warred within him. Should he stay with his family where he was the poor schmuck in love with his brother’s wife and have to live with seeing pity in Naomi’s eyes? Or should he go to another place where he was looked at with admiration?
“I’m not sure.”
“I don’t see any reason why you couldn’t leave for a day or two. We all need a break from time to time.”
He knew why. If he left, he’d probably never return. It was so tempting to go to a place where he could forget about Lash, Naomi, everyone. Maybe even forget he was an archangel.
“That’s generous of you. I’ll think about it. So tell me, what did you want to see me about?”
Gabrielle pulled out a paper from her pocket. She paused, tapping it against her palm, and then folded it into her hand. “The assignment can wait. I’d like to hear more about your time in Kauai.”
She’s smiling.
He furrowed his brow. Why was she smiling? Gabrielle never did small talk with anyone, even with Raphael. She was all business.
“Well, it is paradise on Earth, for sure. Like I said, it took a while for me to snap out of it. It took a special friend to knock some sense into me before I could enjoy myself.”
“Leilani?”
“Yeah, Leilani.”
“So was it the surfing or your face smacking into the sand that snapped you out of it?” Her eyes twinkled.
“Ugh, I can’t believe of all the time I was on the island, that’s the moment you decided to peek in on me.”
“I’ll be honest, I needed a good laugh, too, especially after you and Lash . . .”
The room grew quiet as they looked at each other. He didn’t realize the fight with his brother had affected her so much. Of course, it had been more than a fight. It had been the beginning of a new life for him—a life where his eyes were finally opened.
Ducking his head, he closed his eyes and remembered the moment when his life changed, the moment Archangel Raphael revealed he’d been more than a mentor and dear friend, the moment memories of an ancient past emerged from the deepest recesses of his mind.
It was the moment his heart first betrayed his brother.
7
Three Months Earlier
“I’m your son?” Jeremy whispered.
His mind reeled with what he’d just been told. He must’ve heard Raphael wrong. Raphael, the third most powerful archangel in Heaven, with only Michael and Gabrielle more powerful, could not have told him that he was his father.
Yeah, he’d definitely misheard. It was sometimes confusing to understand Raphael, who preferred to speak in the ancient tongue. There were even times when he’d switch to Hebrew mid-conversation. It happened rarely nowadays, and only when he was under a lot of pressure. This was obviously one of those times. The battle with Lucifer at Shiprock, New Mexico, hadn’t gone as planned. Somehow Lucifer had managed to escape, and Raphael had mentioned it was a matter of time before the powerful dark angel returned with even greater numbers. Everyone was on edge.
So why was his heart racing?
“You’re my father?” Jeremy’s voice echoed loudly in the bedchamber.
There was a moan, and his eyes darted to the bed where Naomi Duran lay sleeping. Raphael paused, his hands hovering over her body.
“Yes,” Raphael said quietly.
He’s my father. Jeremy sank down onto the seat across from him. Raphael continued his healing work over Naomi, the woman his best friend had fought so hard to protect.
It wasn’t possible. Was it? Centuries ago, he’d been born to a human mother, Rebecca. Lash was his brother. Having his sons lose all memories of their past life, of everyone in it, including their father, had been Raphael’s punishment.
He took in Raphael’s kind sapphire eyes and golden hair, so much like his own, and his hands. Those hands.
White noise followed by the sound of a baby crying filled his mind. Images flickered in and out of his mind: a small cottage, a goat, and a child’s hand next to thick, muscular ones.
“Father, your hands are like mine.”
He gasped, and his eyes darted to Raphael. It was true. And yet, it was as if he’d always known. Deep inside of him, he’d sensed a strong connection to the man he’d called his mentor and friend.
“And I was betrothed to her.” His eyes drifted down to Naomi.
It all made sense to him now. The sudden pull to Naomi the moment he’d seen her in Houston; the way she constantly haunted his mind as he watched over Lash to make sure he completed his assignment; and the pain in his chest that had almost brought him to his knees when he saw Lash hold her protectively in his arms, press his lips against her cheek, and profess his love to her. And when dark lashes lifted and pale blue eyes gazed at his best friend and blue-tinged lips whispered, “I love you,” his heart stopped, crushed for some incomprehensible reason. For a moment, he’d thought Lucifer or Saleos had escaped and was attacking him through some type of invisible force. Now he understood why.
He’d loved her.
Even now, his heart ached as he gazed at Naomi lying almost lifeless on the bed, pale, with her dark hair fanned wildly across the pillows. He’d done this to her. He’d taken her human life. He’d taken her away from the family she loved so much.
After he’d struck her down at the top of Shiprock, he’d carried her into the angels’ living quarters into a private bedchamber. He’d waited by her side while Raphael had worked on Lash in the Room of Offerings, healing his wounds. Even though he’d worried about Lash and it was Rachel’s job to tend to Naomi, he’d refused to leave her side. Instead, he’d begged Rachel to come get him as soon as Lash woke up. His guilt for not being by his brother’s side was lessened a little once Raphael had told him Lash would be fine.
“Yes, you were,” Raphael said as he moved his hands over Naomi’s stomach. Pausing, he looked at Jeremy intently. “Have you memories, my son?”
Jeremy’s eyes drifted over Naomi. The color was slowly returning to her cheeks and perfectly shaped lips. His breath hitched as more images flickered through his mind. They moved so quickly he couldn’t hold on to them. A leather pouch. Pink lips. A red sash.
The pull to her intensified. He reached his hand out to her, wanting desperately to run his finger over the bow of her lips. And then, as if lost in a past he didn’t know existed until now, he felt it: lips to lips, warm, wet, sensuous . . . electrifying.
“Jeremiel?”
Blinking, he looked to Raphael and caught a glimpse of himself in the floor-length mirror leaning against the opposite wall. His hand hovered inches from Naomi’s lips. Desire and longing were written all over his face.
He snatched his hand back, jamming it into his pocket. Whatever he was feeling, he had to shut it down—fast. Lash was going to be pissed when he woke up. And when Lash heard about Naomi being promised to him in marriage . . . well, that wasn’t going to help the situation at all. He knew his best friend well. Act first; think later. Lash would think he was inten
tionally trying to steal Naomi away from him.
Glancing at Naomi, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind.
And he would be right.
Jeremy cleared his throat, composing himself. “Not really. I think I remember something about winning a footrace and a leather pouch filled with gold coins . . . and maybe a goat.”
“Centuries later and that goat still has a hold over us all. Stubborn goat.” Chuckling, Raphael placed his hand gently on Naomi’s forehead. “She was the only one who could get that old goat to move—and the only one who could get Lahash to smile. She made him very happy, and will do so again.”
“She already has,” Jeremy murmured as he gazed lovingly at the woman who’d brought sunshine into his best friend’s life.
Over the last few weeks, he’d never seen Lash so happy as he was when he was with Naomi. Even before getting kicked out of Heaven, Lash had always seemed to have a shadow hanging over him. He’d thought it was just Lash’s way. Now he knew it was because he’d been missing his heart and he hadn’t even known it.
If she was meant for my brother, then why does my spirit come to life just by sitting next to her?
“My work here is done. It was simple enough.” Raphael leaned over and kissed Naomi’s forehead. “Your brother’s anger, however, will be a different matter.”
“Should I come with you?” As much as he wanted to stay with Naomi, maybe it was better if he stayed away.
“I know you’re eager to make your peace with Lahash, as am I. We must proceed cautiously. Let me speak to him first.”
As soon as Raphael left the room, Jeremy turned back to Naomi. She was doing better. Her breathing was slow and steady. Dark lashes formed a half moon against the tops of her cheeks. Her cheeks were rosy and her slightly parted lips were a kissable pink. He groaned. He should’ve left with Raphael. He should’ve made Rachel stay with him.
He listened carefully, hoping to hear Rachel’s footsteps heading toward the room. All he heard was music coming from the courtyard. Leaving his seat, he walked to the window and looked outside. Sitting underneath the cherry trees were a group of angels listening to one of the seraph’s singing. She looked like Rachel, tiny with baby blue eyes instead of brown. Pink and white cherry blossoms floated in the air, drifting to the ground around her and the audience of angels. Her sweet soprano voice was pure without vibrato as she sang, asking for her love to dream of her. Her plump hands moved gracefully with the musical phrasing of the Celtic song.
Jeremy (Broken Angel #4) Page 3