Imorean turned on his heel and walked away from his mother and Gabriel. He ducked through the safety railings of the observation deck and proceeded to balance precariously on a small outcrop of loose rock.
“Imorean!” cried his mother. “What do you think you’re doing? It’s not safe out there. Come back!”
“He’s fine,” said Gabriel.
Imorean looked over his shoulder and saw Gabriel holding onto his mother’s shoulders, keeping her from coming after him.
“Go on, Imorean,” said Gabriel.
“Okay,” said Imorean. He knew Gabriel would understand what he meant. As soon as the word left his mouth, it felt as though a great weight had rolled off his wings and they were free to spread and open.
“Imorean!” called Amelia, placing one hand over her mouth. Her voice was caught somewhere between being horrified and awed.
Imorean spread his wings to their full span and flexed them a few times, working out the kinks in them. He raised his gaze to meet his mother’s and swallowed hard, trying and failing to smile. Imorean dropped into a partial crouch, then sprang into the air, beating his wings hard and launching into the air. Imorean closed his eyes as he gained altitude, tilting his wings slightly to even out the air flow over and under them. He shallowly banked and turned back upriver to where Gabriel and Amelia were standing. White wings stood out in stark contrast to the brown, bare trees as Imorean flew over the leafless boughs, the wind feeling like music around his feathers. Once more, he was the orchestrator of his own symphony. He drew his wings tighter to his shoulders and accelerated, rising above the tops of the trees, then, rolling away from them, swooped toward the more placid water behind the crest of the waterfall. He snapped his left wing to his side and dropped into a curving dive to fly low and fast across the surface. From his peripherals, he could just see white reflected on clear water. If he had wanted to, he could have reached down and submerged his hand in the cold, mountain river. Instead, he settled for feeling the spray of the upcoming rapids on his feathers. Moving as one with the river, he dropped down the first small waterfall, then tucked his wings up tighter and gained more speed as the rapids twisted sharply around their first curve. Imorean wanted to close his eyes as he followed the rapids down, but he didn’t. He would need them open for the final sharp turn. Walls of stone reared up around him as Imorean approached the curve and he felt gravity tug at his wings, wanting to pull him down into the water or smash him into the high stone walls banking the river. Just as he entered the bend, he snapped them outward and rolled over fully as he pushed himself hard into the turn, only to force himself back over to avoid a spur of rock. Imorean shot out of the deep gully in a blur of white and coasted out over calmer waters, before driving his wings up and down to ascend back into the open sky. He rose over the high wall of stone that separated the calm waters below the falls from the rapids above and flared his wings to slow the speed of the flight.
Imorean circled once and alighted on one of the posts surrounding the deck, then raised his gaze to meet his mother’s. What he saw was not encouraging. Her eyes had welled up with unshed tears and she had fixed him in a gaze filled with uncertainty and something perhaps akin to fear. Oh, no. The sound of the rushing water faded away behind him.
“What are you?” asked Amelia when she seemed to have finally recovered her ability to speak.
Imorean’s heart sank to his shoes and he took half a step back, nearly losing his footing on the post. Not even a ‘who’, he was a ‘what’.
“I’m your son,” said Imorean, his voice much smaller than he had expected it to be. He stepped down from the railing and put less distance between himself and his mother.
“I know that,” said Amelia, wrenching free of Gabriel. Imorean did his best not to step back as she closed the distance between them. She rested her hands on his shoulders and gazed at his wings in confusion. She ran her fingers down the primary flight feathers and Imorean twitched at the unfamiliar contact, fighting the urge to tear his wing away from her fingers.
“What have they done to you?” asked Amelia, her voice cracking. Then she rounded on Gabriel, fury in her eyes. “What have you done to him?”
“It was part of a project set up by my higher command,” said Gabriel, stepping backwards.
“How dare you do this to him!?”
“I’m sorry, Amelia,” said Gabriel, flaring his own wings. “I didn’t have a say in the matter.”
“Change him back!” Amelia launched forward to grab hold of Gabriel’s coat. Her swat came seconds too late. Gabriel had already beat his wings down and was hovering several feet above their heads, well out of arm’s reach.
“I’m afraid I can’t, Amelia.”
“What are you two? I don’t understand.”
“Mom,” said Imorean, approaching and placing his hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m fine. It’s still me. I’m just a … a little different.”
Amelia wiped away a tear. She looked desperately at Gabriel. “What is he?”
“I’m a hybrid,” said Imorean, hoping that Gabriel would eventually land. He would be more comforted if the Archangel were closer.
“What?” asked Amelia, looking between Imorean and Gabriel.
“If you promise not to attack me, Amelia, I will do my best to explain everything.”
“I might slap you,” replied Amelia. Imorean kept his hand on his mother’s shoulder and could feel how rigid her entire body was with unspent fury.
“And you would probably be well within your rights,” said Gabriel, dropping gracefully back to the ground and folding his tawny and emerald wings behind his back.
“What are you?” gritted out Amelia again.
“We are angels, Amelia,” said Gabriel.
“Angels?”
“Angels. My name is Gabriel, but I am not Gabriel Archer. I am the Archangel Gabriel.”
“I’m only half angel,” said Imorean, shrugging. “If that’s any consolation.”
“Why my son?” asked Amelia, as though she hadn’t even heard Imorean.
“He’s been chosen since he was conceived,” said Gabriel, looking more at Imorean as he spoke.
“For what? What in hell’s name possessed you to do this to my son?”
“Actually, Mom,” said Imorean, finally getting his mother’s attention, “it’s more of a question of ‘what in heaven’s name’.”
Imorean was pretty sure he heard Gabriel stifle a laugh.
“Why do you need him?” asked Amelia, resting her hand on Imorean’s forearm and holding onto it like a lifeline.
“We angels are currently engaged in a war in which we have suffered heavy casualties. Angels do not have free will to the extent of humans, with the exception of the Archangels. Therefore, we are losing many more of them than we would like on the battlefield. We need new blood. New ideas. Clever soldiers with the ability to make their own choices and make them quickly,” said Gabriel after a moment of hesitation.
“You’re using my son, the son I sent to you with hopes that you would further his education, as a soldier?” cried Amelia, her voice breaking again.
“I wish we weren’t.”
“How dare you,” hissed Amelia, suddenly angry again, moving forward to lash out at Gabriel once more. “How dare you presume to show regret when you look so proud. Are you proud of what you’ve done to him? Are you?”
Imorean stepped between them, resting one of his wings on his mother’s shoulder.
“Mom,” he said, looking at her intently. “It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t even his choice. If – if he or Michael had had any choice about this, they wouldn’t have turned me and my classmates into what we are.”
“How do you know that?” snapped Amelia, angrily swiping Imorean’s wing from her shoulder. “How can you be sure they aren’t lying to you.”
“Because … I trust what they’ve told me,” replied Imorean, switching his gaze away from his mother to look at Gabriel. The Archangel had a small smi
le hovering over his lips.
“I need a drink,” huffed Amelia, turning away and stalking to the railing.
Imorean watched in concern as she leaned on it and ran a hand through her hair. Her head dropped down between her shoulders and Imorean thought he saw her body quivering. Quickly, he looked over at Gabriel. The Archangel moved closer to him and rested a hand on his shoulder.
“Believe it or not, this is actually going well,” he said quietly.
“Doesn’t feel like it,” sighed Imorean, dropping his eyes to the ground. Imorean knew he should have prepared himself for a reaction like this from his mother. Gabriel squeezed his shoulder, but the motion didn’t comfort Imorean.
“Who are you training him to fight?” asked Amelia.
Imorean looked up at the sound of his mother’s voice. It was shaky and sounded thick.
“Demons,” said Gabriel, leaving Imorean’s side and closing the gap between himself and Amelia.
Amelia didn’t reply, instead she heaved another great sigh and ran her hand through her hair, pulling it back from her forehead.
Imorean followed behind his mentor and came to a halt on his mother’s other side.
“Angels and demons,” said Imorean, folding his wings. “It’s a war that’s raged from the beginning of time.”
“You’re not a soldier, Imorean,” said Amelia.
“He’s got the makings of a good one.”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” snapped Amelia, turning to glare at the Archangel. “Imorean, I’m taking you out of this school and I’m calling the police. What you and your crowd are doing at the college, if it can even be called that, is extremely illegal.”
“If you tell anyone about what has happened to Imorean, you could get him and the rest of the students killed. The wrong people would find out quicker than you could possibly imagine. I’m afraid if you do tell anyone, Michael and I will be forced to relocate and we would be taking the students with us. Tell anyone about this and you will lose your son forever. I urge you, Amelia, to simply stand back and allow us to do what we must. If you can do that, we will return Imorean to you safe and sound. I know it’s a great deal to ask, but I implore you, just let us do what we must.”
“Are you using my son against me?” snarled Amelia, her hands balling into fists at her sides.
“If it comes to that,” nodded Gabriel.
Imorean wrapped his arms around his mother’s shoulders as she turned away from Gabriel, tears falling down her cheeks. He could feel her sobbing.
“What are your thoughts on all this, Imorean?” asked Amelia a moment later. Her voice was still thick, but sounded steadier.
“Well, I can hardly say that at the beginning I was thrilled, but now … things are different. I won’t lie, I hate the fact that we’re being called on to fight in a war when we have been given no choice, but I know that Michael and Gabriel need us. Also, with these wings, I can’t exactly go and live a normal life right now, can I?”
“You’re … you’re all right with what they’ve done to you?” asked Amelia, sounding aghast.
“I have to be. I don’t have much of a choice now, do I?”
“It isn’t like you to be so placid,” sighed Amelia.
“He wasn’t to begin with,” said Gabriel.
Imorean raised his gaze to look at the Archangel. Gabriel wasn’t looking at them. Instead, he was looking out across the clear, calm water to the opposite bank. There was a small smile on his face, as though he was remembering something from long ago. Imorean narrowed his eyes in confusion. The transformation of the students wasn’t much more than a few months ago. There was no reason for Gabriel to have such a nostalgic gaze on his face.
“What do you mean?” asked Amelia. Imorean felt her tighten her grip on his arm.
“The day we showed him that he was changed, he splashed a glass of whiskey in my older brother’s face. The day after that, he and my brother came close to getting in a fist fight.”
“What?” gasped Amelia. A moment later, she furrowed her brow. “Your brother?”
“Mmm. Michael. The Archangel. He’s the one who runs everything back at the university.”
“And you nearly got in a fight with him?” asked Amelia, turning back to Imorean.
“It was a charged situation,” replied Imorean with a shrug. He couldn’t hold back a smile as he heard Gabriel chuckle.
“Imorean,” sighed Amelia. She looked back at Gabriel. “So … you and your brother are training my son to fly, to fight and to kill demons?”
“Yes,” nodded Gabriel.
“And you still expect me to just sit back and be all right with this?”
“Yes.”
“How do I know he won’t be killed?”
Gabriel paused and looked between Amelia and Imorean for a moment. The Archangel frowned then said, “You don’t. Neither do we. All we can do is watch out for him and hope he does the same for himself when the time comes to put him on a battlefield.”
“Don’t you have a conscience?” asked Amelia. “Don’t you have a heart? Don’t you see that you are destroying families?”
Gabriel gazed at her in sympathy for a moment, then looked away again.
“We know what we are doing,” he said in a quieter voice than usual. “We know what the consequences may be.”
“Mom,” said Imorean, putting his hand on her shoulder and focusing her attention back on him. “I know what I’m doing. I may not have much of a choice, but I know what I’m doing.”
“What are the results of what you are all doing?” asked Amelia. “I understand there’s a war I can’t see, you’ve mentioned that, but what are the effects on humans? What will the benefit of this war be for us?”
“The world will calm. It will become a better place to live. It will become safer. Earth will be a prosperous realm once again. If we angels can win the war, we can work on fixing this broken world. Balance will reign. We’re trying to save the world, Amelia. But Vortigern, one of the generals we are fighting against, wants the earth to be populated by the demons in hell. If the demons win … I don’t even want to think of what will happen. There would be worldwide and horrific genocide. The human race would be wiped out. We are trying to prevent this.”
Amelia nodded and wiped her eyes.
“And to think my little boy who was afraid of heights now has to fly on his own,” she said, wrapping her arms around Imorean’s neck and holding on tight.
“He’s actually one of the best fliers we’ve got at Gracepointe,” said Gabriel. “If not the best.”
Imorean looked at Gabriel. “I am?”
“Really?” asked Amelia, dropping her grip from Imorean’s shoulders and turning slightly toward Gabriel.
“He is indeed,” nodded the Archangel, sending a small, almost imperceptible wink toward Imorean.
Imorean grinned, suddenly knowing what the Archangel was trying to say. While his mother’s attention was directed away from him, he slipped back between the railings of the observation deck and walked quickly back to the outcrop of rock where he had been standing earlier.
“Imorean,” said his mother, her voice filled with worry.
Imorean looked over his shoulder and grinned at her. His thoughts were quickly pulled away though, when he felt an air current tug at the primary flight feathers of his wings. He stretched them as wide as they would go and jumped upward, his heart lifting again as open air coursed under his feathers. Freedom.
White wings parted the air and Imorean streaked up through the air pointed and purposeful, like a bolt fired from a crossbow. Sheer strength flowed through his veins as he ascended higher and higher, making his way toward the heavy, gray barrier of clouds overhead. His blood seared in ecstasy beneath his skin. This was yet another opportunity to show off. He shivered slightly as he broke through the clouds. He had forgotten how cold they were. Condensed vapor clung to white vanes as he continued to climb through the sky. Sun broke over him and he was through the other side of
the clouds. The weak rays of North Carolina’s winter sun beat down on him, warming his back through his jacket. For a few moments he enjoyed the sensation, then he turned. He pinioned his wings to his sides and dove. He closed his eyes. He was an arrow, a lance. Perfection.
As Imorean dove, he decided to try a trick Gabriel had shown him not long before they had left Gracepointe. He put a small amount of space between his wings and his body, then began to corkscrew. He laughed at the sensation. The world around him was nothing more than a dizzy, white blur. He felt lightheaded. His body felt as though it was being compressed. Once more, he approached the clouds in descent and pulled out of the spin. Primaries twisted the air to Imorean’s bidding as he resumed his steady, streamlined position.
A wild, empowered laugh broke from Imorean’s chest as he breached the heavy cloud cover, trails of the moisture clinging to the fabric of his jacket and to the tips of his feathers. Far, far below him he could see the small figures of his mother and Gabriel. The teenager didn’t turn his head to look at them, instead he kept his head straight forward. Despite the fact that he was still high above the trees, he began to slow his dive. The terrain here was different to where he was used to flying and he couldn’t afford to collide with any of the trees on the hillsides. When Imorean felt he was in full control of his dive once more, he flared one wing, banking sharply and turning a hard corner. He smiled to himself and switched down into a series of fast acrobatics. He ascended, picking up speed, then flipped his whole body forward, bringing his feet over his head. He wobbled slightly as the movement of air under his wings stopped. One quick beat brought him back up to the altitude where he knew he should be. Imorean twisted and rolled through the air, reveling in the feel of power and bliss that filled him up from the very tips of his wings to the ends of his fingers. Heights weren’t so bad when the fall to the ground was preventable.
A few moments later, Imorean felt himself tiring and slowly descended to the stone observation deck where Gabriel and his mother were waiting. He hovered for a moment, choosing his landing place, then dropped down lightly to the uneven ground.
Angels Soaring (Angels Rising Book 2) Page 24