by Debra Dunbar
What was he doing? He had fallen into the sin of anger, and stooped to physically restraining and threatening a human woman. Angels should not do such things, and as an archangel he should be far above such behavior. Gabriel struggled to push down the cold fury that had possessed him, and truly saw the woman under him. Stars above, she was terrified. He’d lowered himself to threatening and frightening a weak little human. A wave of shame rolled through him and the angel opened his mouth to apologize.
Before the words left his mouth, something hard and stick-like swung toward his head. He shot out a hand and grabbed it. It seemed like an ineffectual weapon for her to use on him, but judging how he’d been rendered completely helpless by a silver collar, he wasn’t taking any chances.
“Adun easteth athes driftunga durft.” she shouted.
He blinked. Elvish? She’d said something in Elvish that sounded suspiciously like the words ‘descend to the fires of an inferno, you excrement of a durft’. At the same time she said the words, she yanked, trying to pull the stick from his grip. He held on, twisting. It snapped between Gabriel’s fingers, and he barely had time to register the sound before the pain hit.
It was nothing like he’d ever felt before. The hidden wings vanished from his back, and light dimmed around him. His spirit-self fractured into tiny shards and embedded agonizingly into each and every cell. His vision narrowed, fading before bursting into a million colors so bright that he needed to shut his eyes. Sound thumped through his ears, and the smell of the ocean and warm human flesh filled each breath.
Then something beyond his spirit-self shattered, his restraint and control snapping, cracking. It felt as if his entire soul opened wide and allowed everything to rush inside. Hurt. Shame. Doubt. Fear. Envy. Anger. Pride. Sorrow. Regret. It all broke free from the cage where he’d buried it and rushed its way back into his heart.
Hands pushed at him.
“Get off me. By the Goddess, you weigh a freaking ton. Why are you so heavy? Oh sweet Mother, you broke the wand. You broke it.” Her words choked on something that sounded like a sob. “It’s broken and I needed it.”
The human woman. It was her heartbeat filling his ears, her scent in his lungs. He’d collapsed on top of her, his weight pinning her to the ground. Rolling off to the side, he sat up and stared at his hands. It was like when he’d had the collar on only a thousand times worse. He could feel everything, hear, see, and smell everything in agonizing detail. His flesh had taken on a tanned cast. Something inside him grumbled and twisted.
“What did you do?” he whispered. Anger was beyond him at this point. Instead he felt…fear? Where were his wings? By everything holy where were his wings?
“Me? Me? I didn’t do anything. Well, I wanted to do something, but you broke the wand, you stupid oaf.”
“A wand.” Aaru above. Broken magical devices released all their charges at once, sometimes amplifying the effect dramatically. “What was this wand supposed to do?”
“Turn demons into a human for twenty-four hours. I needed that in case…well, I needed it and now you’ve broken it.” She picked up the two pieces of wand and held them together, biting her lower lip when it began to quiver.
“How many charges did it have?” Hopefully he could shake this off in less than twenty-four hours or this whole trip would be a waste of time. He could hardly track and punish a rebel angel while he was a human. And why were his insides making that noise? It was quite uncomfortable.
Her lip quivered again. “Twenty. It was very expensive. And I needed it.” She turned to him, her eyes narrowing, and that trembling lip thinning. “You will reimburse me for it. You broke it. You buy it. That’s a human law here. I found that one out the hard way.”
“I am not paying for a broken wand,” he retorted. “I didn’t intentionally break it. You were attacking me and I was simply trying to disarm you. Defending myself does not obligate me to pay reparations.”
“You most certainly did intentionally break it,” she snapped back. “You twisted it. What do you expect a piece of wood to do when some muscle-bound idiot tries to turn it into a pretzel? And besides that, the self-defense excuse is phoo-hockey. You were in my room uninvited, going through my personal belongings. I have a right to expect privacy, and you were trespassing. When I subdued you and tried to run, you tackled me. You’re like a gazillion times more powerful than I am. I’m the one who was acting in self-defense, not you.”
“Phoo-hockey? What does that even mean? And at the time of the tackling incident, I was not a gazillion times more powerful than you, however much a gazillion might be. You’d put some repulsive collar thing on me and refused to take it off.”
“And when the maids freed you and took it off, did you leave?” she snapped. “No, you didn’t. You stayed behind and lay in wait for me. In spite of your promises, you intended to do me harm, and at that time, you were a gazillion times more powerful than me.”
“You made me angry.” That was a horrible excuse. He was an archangel. He shouldn’t be so readily tempted into the mortal sin of anger. This was his fault. And he would gladly have done penance for his actions, but this wasn’t the time. Tura was once again going to slip through his fingers. It might take years for him to track him down again. It might take decades. And after absorbing a minimum of twenty-times a magical spell, he was unlikely to recover in the next three days.
He’d be lucky to recover in the next month. Actually he’d be lucky to recover at all. The thought was chilling.
The woman sighed, running her fingers through her long, dark-blond hair. “I overreacted. When I saw you I should have just run for it. I guess I was angry too. And I can’t completely blame you for being angry after I bashed you in the head with a frying pan and tied you to my bed.”
And put that repulsive collar on him. And put those not-so-repulsive pair of tiny pants in his mouth.
“I’m sorry.” The woman shook her head. “If I could take it back, I would. If I could do something to make up for it, I would. I’m sorry.”
How horrible was it that a human woman apologized for her sin of anger, and he hadn’t yet done so? So much for being an archangel. Guilt wracked him. Whatever had happened, this was his own fault. Scaring a human, then blaming her for his own sin. How base of him.
“You said you were going to punish me. I know what demons do when they punish, and I was scared, otherwise I would never have gotten the wand out of my purse.” she continued. “But collaring you and whacking you with the fry pan — that was my fault and I’m sorry.”
Wait, demons? “I’m not a demon. I’m an angel,” Gabriel told her. He’d deal with whatever she’d done to him later. Right now his priority had to be making this whole thing right with this human and trying to atone for losing his temper and threatening her.
Her eyes widened. “No! You can’t be! Angels don’t break into people’s rooms, root through their underwear like perverts, then pin them to the floor. Angels don’t threaten to harm people.”
In all his four billion years, Gabriel had never felt so small, so unevolved. “It’s me that should be apologizing. I’m not used to manifesting in a human form, and I’m afraid I let the sensations and emotions get the better of me. Please forgive me.” He took a deep breath, steeling himself for his next words. “I am the archangel Gabriel, member of the Ruling Council of Angels, and the third eldest angel in all of Aaru and I deeply regret my actions.”
The woman looked at him in horror. “Gabriel? Not that Gabriel? The one with a stick up his butt? The pompous, sanctimonious, jerk? The smug, self-righteous, intolerably boring Gabriel?”
“No, I am not any of those things.” He scowled. Who had been saying those horrible and untrue things about him? Actually, he knew who had been saying those things, and the very next Ruling Council meeting he was going to have some words with her. Or possibly smash a pastry in her face. “I am the Exalted, Ancient and Revered Archangel Gabriel, Guardian of the Truth, the Ancient Messenger.”
She blinked at him in surprise. “Are there more titles you’ve let out of that list? Surely you have more than just the four. Or was that five?”
Was she laughing at him? “I do have more, but it seemed pompous to be reciting all thirty at this particular time.”
She was laughing at him, the hussy. But just as quickly her smile faded and a look of dread settled across her face. “The archangel Gabriel? I hit an archangel on the head with a frying pan. By the Goddess, I am in such trouble.”
“It was my own fault. There is no blame to you in this matter.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You can’t be held responsible for your behavior. You’re just a human, and thus vulnerable to wild emotional responses, poor decision-making, with a proclivity toward sin. Such an unevolved being with a low vibration pattern and paltry intelligence shouldn’t be expected to overcome their sense of fear and need for self-preservation. You’re not to blame for this.”
“Why thank you,” she drawled. Was that a note of sarcasm in her voice? “This unevolved, lesser being still feels she bears some blame for your circumstances. If there is anything I can do to make amends, I’d be happy to do so.”
Again, he felt guilty. He should be the one apologizing. He should be the one offering to make amends. But all he could think of now was how Tura was once again going to get away and escape punishment. “There is nothing a human can do to help me. I’m an angel. I do not need a human’s help.”
She shook her head. “But you’re no longer an angel. I’ve taken your grace. You’re not an angel any more, you’re a human.”
That part of his midsection that had been grumbling and twisting solidified into a cold hard lump as her words sunk in. Gabriel looked at his hands, wondering why they were trembling. Well Gabe, you idiot. You knew sin had a heavy price, just not quite this heavy.
Chapter 6
The woman sighed, gathering her long hair into a knot as she stood. “My name is Nyalla. No titles. No last name. Just Nyalla. Come here. We’ll sit, have a beer, and figure out what we’re going to do about this.”
Gabriel stood and followed her into the main room where she pulled two bottles from the fridge and set them on the table, popping the caps from them.
“I don’t eat or drink. Such sensory experiences reduce my vibration levels and hinder my quest to achieve a centered, balanced life and eventually enlightenment.”
She paused. “Such sensory experiences are going to keep you alive. I don’t know how long this spell is going to take to wear off. You can’t exactly expect to starve and dehydrate in the meantime.”
His midsection twisted painfully again. This was horrible. He might be without his wings, but he wasn’t about to lower himself to such base behaviors. “I’ll be fine. I’m an angel.”
She muttered something about him being a total fool, and how long would he live if he tried to hold his breath for a few days, then she took a drink from one of the bottles. “Fine. Your funeral. Well, hopefully not because I don’t want to be the one to explain that to your eldest brother. Actually, can you call him? I know he has a cell phone, and I’m hoping he might have some angel power that can reverse the wand’s effect.”
His brother had a cell phone? That’s right, he had seen him talking into a small device a few times. How the mighty had fallen. “I doubt he can reverse the effect. I’ll just need to ride it out.”
“Are you positive? He seems pretty powerful. I’m sure if I called Sam, she could get ahold of him and–”
“No!” Gabriel took a few breaths to calm himself. He didn’t want any of his siblings to know. He most definitely didn’t want that imp of an Iblis to know. And besides, the idea that his eldest brother could easily negate a spell that had brought him down was insulting. Micha wasn’t that much more powerful than he was. “I assure you there is nothing any angel can do to help. Eventually the spell will wear off. The timing of this is particularly unfortunate, but patience is a virtue. I’ll simply need to be vigilant and wait, and another opportunity will eventually arise.”
Nyalla’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are you talking about? Were you here on some Ruling Council business? Something you needed to do for your choir? Maybe I can help you. Well, after I finish up with my own project, that is.”
“It was a personal project.” And the idea that this human woman could help him catch and punish an angel was ludicrous.
“And this personal project involved my underwear?”
“Yes–I mean, no. I was…” he might as well be honest about this. “I was searching your room for something.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “In my underwear drawer?”
Why was his face hot? “I didn’t know where you’d put it, so I was searching everywhere. But your room is such a filthy mess that it was impeding my search. I got distracted.”
“You got distracted in my underwear drawer?”
“I got distracted everywhere. You had dirty dishes, opened food containers. Your books weren’t alphabetized or arranged in an aesthetically pleasing manner. And those tiny pants were all balled up and shoved in the drawer. They’re wrinkled. I was going to iron them, but I didn’t think I’d have time for that.”
Nyalla stared at Gabe for a few moments then began to laugh. “Iron them? Never mind. What did you think I had in my underwear drawer?”
“The scroll. The one you received on the beach. The one from the Gormand.”
She sucked in a breath. “I knew there was another demon nearby — I mean angel. Sorry, but you guys both read the same energy-wise. I can never tell the difference between angels and demons. How did you hide from me? Invisibility? Did you turn yourself into a rock or a grain of sand?”
“I was the water,” he told her, uncertain why she was more concerned about what form he’d taken than the fact that he had been spying on her.
“You were the water? As in you were holding your breath underwater because you were an angel at that time? Or you were a fish?”
Where was she going with this? “No, I was the water. I have an affinity for the element. If I need to manifest a physical form, I’d far rather become the ocean itself than a creature or a rock. There’s a sense of eternity in the sea, a feeling of infinity, of cosmic balance. Outside of Aaru, it’s the place I feel most at home.”
Her mouth made an ‘O’. “I would give anything to be able to do that. Anything. To become the water itself…” She shook her head. “Back to the scroll, if you wanted to know what was on it, why didn’t you ask? All you would have had to do was come to me and tell me that you were the Archangel Gabriel and you wanted to read the scroll.”
One of his eyebrows lifted. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt like an appropriate expression in response to her statement. “I cannot believe you would have willingly handed over the scroll to a stranger who came up to you claiming to be an archangel. You hit me in the head with a frying pan.”
“Because you were in my room going through my underwear drawer,” she shot back. “And yes, I would have handed it over because I can see your heart.”
Gabe looked down at his chest, even pulling the neck of his shirt out. “You have X-ray vision? And what does my circulatory organ have to do with being trustworthy?”
“It’s a metaphor. Or a simile. I always get them mixed up. I have a gift. I can see your intentions. Walking up and introducing yourself, perhaps even using that magic word ‘please’ would have gotten you cooperation. Breaking into my room and being angry with me, wanting to punish me, gets you hit in the head with a frying pan.”
“I wasn’t angry when I was going through your underwear drawer,” he argued.
“No, but you were thinking lots of bad things about me.”
He had been. He’d been thinking what a horrible, filthy, disorganized, messy person she must be, that her vibration patterns were far below acceptable levels, that she her FICO score was most likely substandard.
Once again this human woman was making him feel ashamed. “I’m sorry. Can I ple
ase see the scroll?”
“Why?”
“Because I asked nicely?” By the creator what did this woman want him to do now, get on his knees and beg?
“No, I mean why do you want it? Are you trying to retrieve the same item that I am here to get? Because Sam sent me here for it. I think she’s going to give it to your brother for a born-day gift.”
Gabe blinked in surprise. “Micha has a born-day? I mean, he knows his born-day? None of us knows the exact moment in time that we were created.”
She shrugged. “Honestly I think Sam just picked a day. Don’t tell him. She’s planning on a surprise party.”
A surprise party? No one had invited him.
“No, I’m not looking for the artifact, I’m looking for the angel that brokered it to the Gormand. If I can get my hands on the Gormand, I can convince him to lead me to the angel.”
“Are you going to kill him for stealing the artifact?”
“As much as I would like to summarily deliver justice, this angel needs to answer to the Ruling Council for his crimes. And those crimes are far more serious than the theft of an artifact.”
He wanted to kill Tura. He was hoping for an excuse to do so. But if the rebel submitted, then he’d have no choice but to follow angelic law and bring him before the council for judgement.
“What were his crimes?”
That wasn’t her business to know. “I won’t discuss that with you. Suffice it to say that he is more than a rebel, he is a traitor, and her personally betrayed me. But how he violated my trust isn’t the issue, it’s his traitorous actions toward Aaru, the Ruling Council, and my siblings.” He couldn’t help a snarl at the last bit. His family. He didn’t like to admit it, but they meant everything to him. Everything.
“Okay.” Nyalla took another drink of her beer, licking a few spilled drops off her lower lip. The beverage did look tasty and refreshing, the perfect accompaniment to the sound and smell of the ocean filtering in through the window. But he was an angel, and that meant holding strong against the temptations of sensory experience. And that included the urge to reach out and touch her lips. They looked so soft, so beautiful with their pink, curved shape.