The Seraph's powerful hands were upon his son, and Daniel struggled against the fallen angel, whipping his head from side to side.
But Kabiel was the stronger as he slowly forced Daniel to his knees.
The wolves kept coming, often in groups of three or four, but the Seraph would merely shake them off as if they were merely an annoyance.
One of the giant's arms had been forced back until it was at an impossible angle. Claire was sure that Kabiel had broken his son's arm, as he went to his knees, his father's hands pressing him down.
With a hollow voice that echoed across the clearing, Claire heard him speak.
"Daniel, always the voice of dissent, always that of discord. You affront me at every opportunity, forgetting that I am the very reason you exist.
"I have grown tired of you and your arguments. And, it is only fitting that I should be the one to finally bring you to silence."
Daniel made no reply, his unbroken arm flailing out at the Seraph, but the angle was wrong, and the fallen angel's strength too great.
Kabiel bent down at the same time he forced Daniel's head back, to expose his marble white throat.
Claire had seen a vampire's teeth unable to penetrate the Nephilim's flesh, but Kabiel was no ordinary blood drinker. He was the creator of them all, and was surely possessed of fangs capable of breaking Daniel's flesh.
The fallen angel's lips peeled back from long, shining fangs, and oddly, it seemed he smiled as he bent down to his son's neck.
There was a sound then, a low growl erupting from within the mass of wolves, and Claire watched as they gathered themselves, then sprang, all of them at once, upon the Seraph.
The growl had come from Clash, and Claire saw him scrabbling upon the backs of his brothers and sisters, an enormous wolf that bit down with its vicious jaws upon the Seraph's now exposed shoulder.
Dark blood ran, yet the vampire lord did not relent as he opened his mouth, about to sink his fangs into Daniel's neck.
Claire wanted to cover her eyes, to block out the sight of Daniel's destruction, but she was transfixed and could not break away.
It was then that she saw a lone wolf walk past her. The beast was not quite as large as Clash, but it carried itself with a stately, calm demeanor.
His coat was speckled deeply in grey and white, and it was not the color of a young wolf. Rather, it was the washed out coloring of a wolf that had lived to an advanced age, a rare thing, if Claire had understood well.
But, she had understood something else about that wolf. She had noticed how the other wolves did not seem to remark it amongst them, as if it simply did not exist for them.
The old wolf walked forward and Claire saw Kabiel hesitate, his teeth nearly upon Daniel's throat.
As the old animal made his way among them, the wolves swarming up the Seraph's body calmed at once, stepping back, while the largest of them let go his hold upon the fallen angel's shoulder.
The old wolf slipped through them, and as it moved it transformed to something else.
Blinding light filled Claire's vision, blocking out all else. Great wheels turned around the being now upon two legs, wheels that shined with the light of the sun and stars, and upon all surfaces, they were studded with a multitude of eyes that gleamed like gemstones.
A deep voice resonated as much as in her mind as in Claire's ears, a sound of antiquity that made her tremble in awe.
"Kabiel...brother...desist. I will not allow the destruction of the Nephilim.
"In him and him alone, have you wrought well and just. Better that you destroy the rest of your get, than to harm one such as this."
The vampire lord sneered and said, "Ophanim...so, you have found your voice at last. But, you know as well as I do that you have no authority over me. We are equals, you and I."
"We were equals, once, Kabiel," replied the being within the glowing wheels.
"That ended the day you turned to darkness and discovered a taste for human blood.
"Desist, I say, or I shall break you."
Even if it was as she had suspected, she was still stunned by Galgallin's sheer grandeur.
He blazed before them all, and it was not with the black flames she had seen upon the vampire lord, or his son, Daniel. Rather, he seemed to be filled with the light of the heavens and she could understand how men and beast alike would be awed by his presence alone.
The wolves that had been battling with such ferocity just a moment before had fallen back, their bodies turned to face the Ophanim while they held their muzzles down turned with a single foreleg outstretched before them. It was unmistakable as a sign of reverence and it came to Claire that it was the wolves' version of genuflection before their creator.
Kabiel straightened, his hands still upon Daniel's shoulders, and said, "The centuries have not changed you, Galgallin. Still so convinced of your superiority. Still so sure of the choices you have made.
"As for me, I know what it is to move through the millennia, changing with the times, adapting and evolving. Unlike you, so self satisfied and smug while you hide in the forest and wander about in the guise of a lowly beast."
Daniel staggered to his feet, pushing away Kabiel's hands with his one good arm before walking through the wolves crowded around the arguing Ophanim and Seraph.
Claire saw that the glowing wheels that had so burned her eyes were fading away, and that the figure in their midst was that of an older man, grey bearded but hale, exuding such an aura of authority that she was forced to look away.
"And brother, forever shall you be mistaken about so much, yet remain unwilling to face the truth.
"The beasts of the world are anything but fools. I can not deny that their universe is made of simple laws, but there is honesty in such things, a purity of purpose between cause and effect that approaches the divine."
Galgallin's words fell like a smith's hammer upon an anvil and as he spoke some of the wolves stirred. Among them was the largest one who bared his teeth as he turned his gaze from the Ophanim to Kabiel.
With a fluid change of wolf flesh to that of a man, Clash stood among his fellow wolves and raised his arm to point at the vampire lord.
"Have a care, blood drinker. Galgallin's children will brook no insult to our father," the wolf said, quivering with the anger birthed by the vampire's words.
The Ophanim turned grim eyes upon the pack leader and said, "And have a care, pup, to dare assume that I require you or anyone else in my dealings with the Seraph."
Clash visibly winced under Galgallin's gaze.
"Away with you...now."
The leader of the forest wolves stepped clear of the pack, his eyes never leaving the Seraph, his mien promising blood and ruin to the vampire lord.
Daniel walked toward Claire, cradling one arm within the other, and as he came she saw him quiver with a resonance that reminded her of a struck tuning fork. She had seen it once before, upon his tower top, and the result was the same as his colossal form vibrated and shrank to the stature of a normal man.
"Are you hurt?" asked Claire, feeling foolish as she said it. She had seen the unnatural angle of the giant's arm just moments before.
"Ah, Claire...it is nothing that will not undo itself presently," Daniel said, "As I am fond of saying, I am Nephilim and the power that drives my father is in no small measure part of me. In other words, most injuries are but temporary inconveniences."
"Ok...if you say so," Claire replied, uncertain.
"But, you, dear woman, I see that you have suffered grievously at the hands of the wolves," Daniel gestured toward her thigh and the marks of canine jaws that had driven deeply into her leg.
"Perhaps," said a low voice, halfway to a growl, "But, it was in an effort to save her from your poison, blood drinker."
Clash stood beside them, his strong hands planted on his hips, his posture one of a man ready for anything.
"Claire shall be my mate and the power of the wolves will drive out your evil. What's more, as his her
ald, I believe that Galgallin will come to her aid once she is made pack."
Daniel shook his head, his face darkening as he considered the wolf's words.
"But this cannot be," he said, "The contagion of Caim's poison will consume her no matter what efforts the wolves bring to bear. I can but offer her that the change be gentled through my own power.
"Claire," he said, turning to her, "I have never bitten a human with the intention of turning them. And, my strength is far greater than that of Caim's. I shall take you from this place and once in security, I will help you through the inevitable, but with the undiluted kiss of the Nephilim and not that of wolves, or rabid vampires."
Claire looked from his white marble face to that of Clash, his visage slipping slowly into wolf form. She saw that he readied himself for yet another battle, while the Nephilim regarded her with compassion in his strangely blank eyes.
And then, suddenly, filling her nose was the heady scent of exotic spices. It was powerful, but somehow exquisitely clean and vibrant, the odors of oranges and cedar. There was cinnamon and ginger, sandalwood and the scent of ripe figs.
A musical voice spoke, as if from thin air, and said, "Have either of you thought that perhaps there is a third choice? Or, even to simply ask just what Claire wants?"
The voice came from behind her and before she could turn around to take in the sight of his golden skin, the Messenger wrapped his arms gently around her.
Suddenly, the ground fell away from Claire's feet as the angel bore her skyward, his great wings beating strongly, with the confidence of the ages.
Up they rose, winding their way through clouds that grew thicker, until they were surrounded in a sea of whirling, churning whites and grays.
"Let go of me!" she shouted as they settled down upon the misty surface of a cloud.
Claire looked down and could see the Messenger's feet resting upon the cloud, while her own dangled, touching nothing.
"But, if I did that, Claire, you would fall and I will risk no further harm to you."
His voice was low, serious, while the arms that encircled her held her firmly.
"'No further harm'? What a joke...you abandoned me," she shouted to the creature at her back.
"Like you said, I should be able to say what I want and right now, all I want is to slap your face, you bastard. You're no guardian angel."
Through the anger that burned in her, she felt him lean down to her, his mouth at her ear and his lips close enough to brush her skin as he said, "No, I am not...nor was I ever, Claire. Guardian angels are a quaint human fiction and if ever there were some truth behind it, it was lost ago along with all knowledge of our creator."
He sighed and continued, "I, too, know what it is to be abandoned. To be so lost as to no longer remember who I am or, even, what I am. To be so entirely unanchored that I drift, purposeless, until something comes for a time to fill me with an intent not of my own making."
Claire shook with the words she heard him speak. Not her guardian angel?
"I don't understand," Claire stammered, "You saved me in that car accident. You did...."
"Oh Claire, I am sorry," the angel replied, "I did not save you from that accident. Rather, I was the cause of it. I am the reason your parents died that day and why you have spent most of your life blind."
The betrayal she heard in his voice stung like an electric shock. All that she had ever believed in the long years of darkness was false. All that she had believed about good and righteous things was rocked as the foundations of what she had clung to, alone, so very alone, were shaken to the core.
Her voice trembling, Claire said, "Then, why are you here? Why bother?"
He did not answer, his silence spiraling out from him until Claire thought that he would simply open his arms without another word and let her fall, at last, to her death.
Finally, he whispered into her ear, "Is it not evident, Claire? All these long years, I have waited for the child who saw me that day become the woman I hold in my arms right now.
"Claire, I fell in love with you and that sentiment is the one thing of which I am most sure."
Her next words were sour and bitter as she spat them out.
"Love...love is not a word you can just throw around like that. And, if you love me, how could you let those monsters take me away?"
Claire wanted to scream at him. She wanted to be able to turn on him and strike him over and over until her hands went numb.
"You say you love me, right after telling me you're the reason my parents died and I'm supposed to say what, exactly? Melt in your arms and say it back to you, as if everything is just great now?
"Never mind. Drop me, Malakh...just let go already."
Claire felt him shake his head.
"You are right to deny me, Claire. I am the source of so many woes, yet I cannot regret what brought me to you. You, of all the human beings I have ever encountered, only you could see me.
"You looked at me through the glass of the car's window and you saw me. That should not have been possible. I, like the other Seraph, can pass unawares among all people...even among my own kind. You alone, though, are possessed of a vision unlike any other the world over.
"And even as I brought ruin to the man and woman who gave you life, I was filled with wonder at the vision I saw of myself reflected in your eyes.
"Please try to understand. Their deaths were no decision of mine. I'm not sure that any decision played a part in that. I only knew that I had to be in a certain place, at a certain time, and do a certain thing.
"For you, it would be no different than a thing as simple as breathing. All choice is set aside and it just is."
He drew a long breath, then continued.
"But, I have known regret as I observed you over the years, seeing the beautiful woman you had become, yet so alone in your prison of darkness. Locked away in the blindness for which I was to blame."
Claire felt something fall against her neck, something warm that slipped down to run along her collarbone.
"And then, I was compelled once more, only for the first time in my existence I fought against it, choosing rather to seize you when you fell and to try to make amends for all the harm I have caused you.
"I could not gift you with a vision capable of seeing angels...I could not give you what you already had. Instead, I ended your blindness in the only way given to me in the hopes that it would relieve some small part of the pain I've caused you."
"I...I don't think I understand," Claire said, hesitating, then continued, "Turn me around. Let me look at you."
The Messenger's arms loosened their tight hold upon her body, then his hands slipped gently down to her waist. Claire looked down and placed each of her feet upon those of the angel like a little girl learning to dance with her father. Carefully, she turned around to see the creature that held her.
His eyes were closed as she looked at him, seeing him really and truly for the first time since the car accident. Only now she saw him with a woman's eyes, no longer a child, and it was with a woman's desire that she found him more beautiful than words.
His skin was suffused in a golden glow, perfect and unblemished. His lips were full and well defined, as if he had been carved by the hands of a craftsman that worked nothing but the flowing forms of mouths his entire life.
His hair was tousled, but with lovely ringlets that demanded a woman's touch, crying out to have her wind her fingers around those shining locks, while her mouth learned the taste of his own.
The Messenger's shoulders were broad and square, his muscles clearly visible through his velvety smooth skin. These same gave way to perfectly proportioned arms that, in turn, led her to the hands about her waist. His fingers were long, his hands large, but more like a painter's hands and not the dreadful warrior the others had spoken of, capable of laying waste as he wielded his mighty sword.
She saw, that, too. A great blade scabbarded at his side, the pommel appearing to be of solid gold, simple in desig
n, unadorned in gemstones, but apparently terrible and efficient in its purpose.
"Open your eyes, Malakh," Claire said, her voice softened. "Look at me. Let me see you and then tell me what you find when you do."
The angel did not hesitate as he opened his eyes for Claire. But, instead of irises filled with color and in which she hoped to sound the depths of his soul, Claire saw instead opaque, milky white. It was if his eyes were blown glass filled with smoke that swirled without ceasing.
Claire sobbed, then said, "You can't see me."
His beautiful mouth stretched into a mournful smile as he answered her.
"It was the only way, Claire. And, while my mind does not hold tightly to all memories, I still have the sight of your beauty carefully locked away in my heart."
The tear that had fallen onto her neck was joined by her own as she realized what he had done.
His high cheekbones glistened while his eyes appeared to look far beyond her, into the vastness of the heavens. The mist of clouds filled his orbs and gentle tears fell like lonely raindrops.
Claire leaned in to him. His tears lacked the salty taste of regret that she had expected.
"How could you do this to yourself?" she whispered as she laid her cheek upon the angel's chest.
He answered, "How could I not?"
Claire stood on the tips of her toes and pressed her lips to his. He tasted like a fresh breeze on a spring day and she did not hesitate to bring her tongue to bear. She felt his lips part as he acquiesced, then felt his smile as her tongue found his.
His hands slid up her body and she could feel empty air at her back.
Breaking away from his warm mouth, Claire said, "Just...just promise me that you won't drop me, Malakh. Promise me that."
His misted over gaze turned to her, unseeing, and with a grave voice, he replied, "Never, Claire. Never again will I let you fall."
The question that asked two things at once was answered in full as he said it. Then, his great wings stretched out to their fullest width before curling round to envelope Claire in soft plumes.
It had been so long since she felt protected. His beautiful hands, so graceful and fine, held her body. The warmth of him comforting her in a way she could never explain.
Divine Fornication (The Complete Collection) Page 8