FALL FROM PARADISE

by Blair, M. Dylan

  “Don’t you want to know how it works?”

  “How what works?” I threw my hands up, forcing him to let go of me as I did.

  “The bracelet,” he said adamantly. “It’s not a trite piece of jewelry. I’m not giving you this because of some emotional attachment; I’m giving this to you because you’re going to need it if you stay here with us.”

  “Why?” I scoffed. “My training is progressing just fine.”

  “Follow me,” he said, nodding his head in the opposite direction from the training grounds. “Your abilities, while they are progressing, are not progressing fast enough. You forget, Amelia, that we are thousands of years old. You and I, both of us. All of us.

  “Your powers, and you do have them, are so far buried that we don’t have time to wait until they resurface completely. Thus, the enhancer. It will boost your natural God-given abilities until you are back to normal.”

  I stared down awkwardly at the thing. I loved rubies. Always had. It was quite pretty, save for the fact that the giver was a complete pretentious ass.

  “I am not, Amelia,” he said sourly, ignoring my alarm at my thoughts leaking out. “You need to see the big picture. There is a very real chance that war is coming soon, and I won’t be able to protect you.”

  What was it with everyone down here? “Who said I need protection?”

  “I did.” He laughed at my scowl and took a deep breath. “You know, I’m not as evil as you think I am. Not by any means.”

  “We’ll see,” I replied, rubbing my bare arms. Having been sweating the entire morning, I hadn’t realized how drafty these underground hallways were until I was stationary and covered in perspiration. The black spaghetti tank and matching pants clung to my skin as sweat caked my hair.

  Camael stared at me expectantly.

  “What?” I barked.

  He cocked his head sideways. “No one’s even taught you how to fly yet, have they?”

  I blinked. “Wait, what?”

  He nodded as if my reaction was the answer he was looking for. “Must have been saving that honor for me. I’m going to kick Mammon’s ass the next time I see him.”

  I raised a brow at him. “Excuse me?”

  He yawned and stretched his arms overhead, elongating his back as he did. “You didn’t think they were just for show, did you?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Come on.” He grinned. “Apparently, I’m going to have to oversee your training myself if everyone doesn’t get on the ball. No wonder you’re behind.” He grabbed my hand and dragged me into the next chamber.

  The leader of Hell was going to teach me how to fly? Oh, this was going to be good.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “Now, flying isn’t something anyone should have to relearn, but some things can’t be helped.” Camael’s deep voice rang out from across the same subterranean cavern.

  My boots crunched in the gravel as I made my way down to the shoreline. “So, how is this going to work? Flying, I mean.”

  “Simple. Like this.”

  Before I could protest, Camael pulled off his black long-sleeved shirt, revealing his lithe, tightened form as his wings burst out to meet him. I didn’t want to feel awed by them, but they were amazing, like something out of a dream. Gossamer, they shimmered in the faint light. Black. Silky. Mouth-watering. They had to be at least twenty-five feet across.

  “Yours are black also?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said, “they are. You say that as if you were expecting something else. You’ve seen them before.”

  “Not really expecting something else.” I shook my head as I stood there, waiting for his instructions. “I just didn’t expect them to be the same as Adam’s.”

  “You act as though we’re so opposite,” he said, signaling for me to come stand in front of him.

  I didn’t. “You act as though you’re not.”

  “You care about that shirt?”

  “What?”

  “It’s going to get torn,” he said. “I’d tell you to go get changed, but it would take too long.”

  I turned to show him the crisscross-halter back, and he nodded his understanding. It’d be fine.

  “Have you even worked on summoning them?”

  “Summon—what?”

  “Your wings,” he answered. “Has Mammon, or even Na’amah, gone over it at all?”

  “No,” I said. “Last time they were even out was when you shot me.”

  He cocked his head a little. “Yeah, well, it’s kind of like a car sitting in the garage. Even if they’re not needed, you need to keep them running smooth. Come here.” He held out his hand, and I made my way begrudgingly over to where he stood.

  “So, are you ever going to tell me why you shot me?”

  “What?” Now it was his turn to look at me. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t read the expression on his face.

  “Back in Assiyah,” I said simply. “Why did you come all that way just to shoot me?”

  “I’ve already told you,” he said curtly, using his boot to spread my stance as his hands gripped my arms tightly, relaxing my upper body. “I don’t do anything unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “Shooting me was necessary?” I chided. “You couldn’t have just asked nicely?”

  He frowned at me. “You really want to know?”

  Was this guy serious? “Um, yeah. If you want me to trust you ever.”

  “I had to get you off their radar. Le Coelesti. Now they can’t track you. They can’t scry for you. They have no idea where you are or who you are with. If we’re really lucky, that may even extend into Assiyah and Araboth. Doubtful though.”

  I didn’t understand. “But you used to be one of them.”

  “Yes.”

  The way he carried himself, the way he spoke. I suddenly realized, “You’re an Archangel?”

  “A Seraph, actually, but you knew already knew that,” he told me.

  “Which means what exactly?”

  “There are four Seraphim within the Fabled Seven. Enoch, Michael, Barachiel and myself.” He scratched his head absentmindedly. “I guess you could say that we’re in charge of the ones who are in charge of Heaven. The abilities of the four Seraphim far outrank the rest of the Archangels, even though they, too, are impressive in their own right.

  “Theology books paint us as these crazy six-winged creatures that burn with the fire of God. A little metaphorical, but it gets the point across. Seraphim are virtually unlimited in their power. Enough about this though, we’re on a time frame here.”

  “Time frame?”

  “Yeah,” he answered. “Now, like I was saying, flying isn’t something you should have to relearn. Your wings are as much a part of you as your human heart. You move, they move. They flex with you, bend with you. They even protect you.

  “When you fly, you don’t think up-go-up; else you won’t see where you want to go. You just do it. While it is something everyone has to learn the first time, much like young fowl learn to walk on their own, once you have obtained the skill you do not think left foot-right foot. It’s involuntary.

  “But since the communication between your brain and your wings has been severed for so long due to the planar disruption, you have to consciously relearn the concept.”

  “Okay, so then what?” I asked, trying my best to follow along.

  He pursed his lips, like he didn’t understand what I was asking him. “After that, nothing. You go back to normal. You go about your business without all this retreading. So let’s get to it.

  “Going back to what I said before, you have to relearn it. For now, we are going to start with the basics. Just remember, you will not always need to do this. Everything will go back to being as natural as opening your eyes or breathing. Do you remember the first time you saw them? How it felt?”

  Did he mean with Adam? Did he even know about that? I didn’t see how he could. “When?”

  “Now. Weeks ago. When you first saw them. You sai
d it’s only been twice, and once was with me. When was the other time?”

  “I was with Adam,” I admitted hesitantly. Standing here in front of him, I felt like I had done something wrong, something dirty.

  “Alright,” he said sourly. I knew there was something about Adam he didn’t like, and it ran way deeper than the fact that Adam was a Nephilim. By definition, both Camael and I were too. But it was obvious he wasn’t up for divulging all of his secrets.

  He rubbed his eyes, his face tired as he waited. “I want you to try bringing them out.”

  “My wings?” I said.

  “Yes, Amelia, your wings,” he laughed. “Now let’s just try summoning them. You’re going to need them if war breaks out.”

  If? Comments like these made me wonder what was really going on, if he really planned on overturning Heaven like everyone was saying.

  “Close your eyes and concentrate. Think about them. Visualize what they look like. How they feel.”

  “But you burned them,” I argued. “Are you sure—”

  He held up a hand to silence me. “By destroying that anchor, your body has regenerated the parts of it that were harmed.”

  “You’re telling me I can’t be killed?”

  “No, Amelia.” He laughed at me again, haughty and deep in his throat. “You can definitely be killed, otherwise there would be no need for any of this, would there? It’s just that you and Adam—”

  “What about me and Adam?”

  He paused and took a deep breath, his jaw rigid as I waited for him to finish.

  “What about me and Adam?” I repeated.

  He licked his lips. “You guys are different, let’s just say.”

  “Different how?”

  “Your abilities are closer to a Seraph than most other angels and Nephilim. But that’s not really the best way to describe it. More like a hybrid. If you combined a Seraph with one of the Archdemons, you would get an idea of your basic abilities.”

  I wasn’t even sure what this meant, what to say. “So my training with Mammon and Na’amah, you knew what I could do?”

  “Yes,” he said simply. “I said that you were special, that you would lead us. There are things that you can do that I can’t and maybe never even will.”

  “I don’t understand, Camael.”

  “Na’amah’s training is basic. Come with me for a sec,” he said, pointing toward a small outcrop of boulders that were smooth enough we could sit down and talk for a moment. “Day one, angelic or demonic, telepathy is a given. A natural ability for any of us. Guess you could call it one of the perks.

  “Now, there are varying levels of psychic powers: telekinesis, mind control, illusions, glamor. Psychic power is not limited to one side or the other. Now, what Mammon is teaching you, pyrokinesis and other elemental magicks, that is limited to us.”

  As I sat down on the boulder beside him, the smell of his cologne nearly overwhelmed me. The strange, musky scent pulled at my insides like a magnet. “And I can learn this because of this unknown factor Adam and I share?”

  He shrugged like he was searching for a way to describe it. “That’s the best we can figure at this point. But Le Coelesti’s abilities are varied and almost limitless. They heal and bend time and space, but the only element they freely wield is Aether. The rest are all channeled through weaponry.”

  “Like Lamafuere?”

  His eyes widened. “You’re learning.”

  “Call it paying attention.” I shrugged. “Camael?”

  His gaze focused solely on me, and I could see the minute flecks of gold in his gray eyes. “Yeah?”

  “What’s going to happen if Gehenna wins? I mean truthfully?” I ran my hands along my arms, this cavern being much colder than the rest of Sheol. “Are you really out for bloodshed?”

  His body tensed next to mine. “It depends, Amelia.”

  “On?”

  “On how much fighting they want.”

  I was confused. “Why does it matter to them if you’re invading Araboth?”

  “Because I’m not after the entire realm, Amelia; I’m just after one thing.”

  He was actually being honest. It was surprisingly refreshing. How ironic that in Hell honesty flowed like water from a broken spout. “And what would that be?”

  “On whether their leader will face me himself,” he told truthfully, “or whether he’s going to hide behind an entire celestial army.”

  “And this leader is?”

  “Someone who needs to atone for what they’ve done,” Camael said, his eyes darkening as he reflected on the future. “Now I’m going to show you a trick, and you’re not going to like it very much.”

  “What kind of trick?” I said, backing up from him instinctively.

  It didn’t matter though. I was already too late.

  By the time I realized my dagger had been taken, it was already stuck five inches in my gut.

  Ω

  “Adam, can you hear me?” Raphael’s voice called out from a disembodied place. “Adam, wake up, you fool!”

  The Grigori jumped, jolting forward from the position where he had collapsed on the chamber floor. Just as easily as Enoch had taken him, Raphael had returned to Adam’s side, racing to pull his friend out of the amorphous fog before all sense and logic was taken from him.

  “Adam, it’s me. It’s me. Adam!” Raphael yelled as his friend thrashed and swatted at him. “What did they do to you?”

  Adam’s eyes were wide like a deer about to meet its maker. Frozen, empty.

  “Adam!” Raphael yelled again, this time shaking him roughly.

  Adam finally looked over, his expression unchanged. “They’re all dead, Raphael.”

  Raphael licked his lip nervously. “Who?”

  “Everyone,” the Grigori announced. “They’re all going to die.”

  “No, I’m not going to let that happen.” Raphael slung Adam’s arm around his shoulder and lifted Adam to his feet. “Let’s just get out of here, and quickly.”

  “What about the Powers?” Adam whispered as they inched back toward the white door.

  “They’re gone,” his friend replied. “Come on.”

  Adam stopped abruptly. “I don’t understand. What happened to you?”

  “Enoch,” Raphael admitted against his better judgment. “He had a few words for us.”

  “So he did it,” Adam rasped as he latched onto to the far wall the moment they exited the chamber. He leaned against it and turned to face the Archangel.

  “Did what?” Raphael leaned next to him.

  “They’re all dead, Raphael,” Adam repeated. “Every last single one of them, if I don’t do this.”

  “He’s lying, Adam,” he said. “He’s just doing that to scare you.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s working,” Adam said. “The Seraphim, the Thrones, Elohim himself. Dead. All dead because of me.”

  “And you believe him?” Raphael was suddenly in his face, his normally smooth voice on the verge of yelling back. “He’s manipulating you, trying to trick you into doing what he wants.”

  “He’s a prophet, Raphael! A prophet!” Adam shrieked. “He’s not just some guy. He’s telling the truth.”

  “We’ll find another way, Adam. We’ll get her back.” Raphael dug into his pocket and pulled out a small pocket-watch-like object; its numerous gears, small and intricate. He rotated one of the dials on the golden piece before setting it back in his pocket.

  “I want you to take me to him,” Adam said simply.

  “No.” Raphael shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Fine,” Adam said, reaching over to one of the charging crystals on the wall and smashing it with a fist. It wouldn’t take long. Within seconds, a piercing ringing overpowered their senses, driving them both to their knees as they struggled to cover their ears.

  You did that on purpose, didn’t you, Adam? The words filled his head. Unlike the alarm that was a deafening wail, these words came to him direct
ly, came to him alone.

  Enoch . . . Adam had to see him.

  Have it your way, Adam. They’re coming. I hope you’re ready.

  And then the connection was severed, like a sudden emptiness inside his mind that sat there and waited for something to happen. But he knew nothing would. Enoch had made his point.

  Metallic boots clanked against the marble tile. Before they could even make a run for it, the Third Sphere, with swords and halberds staved in their direction, blocked both ends of the corridor.

  The captain of the squad came forward, his features obscured by his ornate mask. It wouldn’t matter though. They both knew who they had come for.

  Their knowledge, it seemed, failed them. “Raphael di Seraf du Machon, you have been found guilty of espionage and high treason against Le Coelesti and are hereby immediately stripped of your title as Chief of Medicine and all of the privileges that accompany it.

  “You and Adam D’Angeline are henceforth to be taken to Purgatorio where you are to await your sentence,” the captain announced as he signaled to the soldiers standing by. “Arrest them.”

  “Wait!” Adam yelled as two ibis-masked Powers seized him by the arms, their blades rapt in the sheaths at their waists. Before either had a chance to react, Adam had both swords already drawn and poised at the two guards.

  “Now, you’re going to take us to your boss,” Adam said simply as he dug a blade’s tip into the Power’s throat.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing, Adam,” Raphael warned as Adam threw him the other sword.

  The Grigori grinned. “And I would hope you knew me better than that, Raph.”

  Raphael chuckled as he aligned his back to Adam’s, both of them working their way toward the wide opening from which they had come. “Yeah well, let’s just get out of here while we still can.”

  “Oh, that won’t be necessary,” a voice cooed from behind the two of them.

  It was Enoch. “Hello, Adam.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Blood pooled from my lips. “Wha—”

  Camael was suddenly in front of me, his hands gripping either side of my face. “I said you wouldn’t like it.”