Instead, she spread out, divided herself into even smaller droplets until she was spread over the clearing. Tunneling under the snow, she crossed the field, careful to keep most of her mass away from Evan, lest the Master find her.
Meela didn’t keep completely away from him, though. She couldn’t. She’d done this to Evan. She couldn’t leave him alone. She needed to fix her mistake.
She needed to save him.
She let a small part of her roll toward him. Easing under him, she formed a small puddle. His robes were soaked with sweat, blood and semen. She let herself meld with those and flowed through the fluids until she coated his skin.
Agony, pure and horrible, washed over her. Evan’s agony.
Guilt buffeted her once more. Her fault. This was all her fault.
Evan jerked, arching his back to get away from her. More pain radiated from him, but this time it was more than physical. The hurt of her betrayal overlaid the physical torture he endured.
I’m so sorry. I’ll fix it. I swear I will.
She could feel no response from him, didn’t know if he’d even heard her.
Evan screamed again and the ghost of his pain filtered to Meela. The Master had torn into his chest with venom-laced claws. Then came the tug of power being drawn from him as Lucifer fed.
She wouldn’t be able to stop this feeding. She wasn’t strong enough.
Hell and damnation.
More power. She needed as much as she could get, as fast as she could find it. The landscape, deep in the grip of winter, held little. She pulled away from Evan with reluctance and sent part of her matter rolling in a liquid stream toward a small ghoul.
Coating its foot, she waited to see if it realized she was there, but the simpleton was too enthralled by the sight of Evan’s suffering to care about anything else. It spilled power in its excitement, and she fed on it, slowly at first. When it failed to notice her, she drew on it, feeding until it grew weak and sat with a confused whimper.
Could she claim more? Evan had destroyed one. Could she drain one until it ceased to exist? The thought frightened her, but she needed every bit of power she could find if she was to save Evan.
She drew on the demonspawn once more, and sensed its confusion as its body began to crumble into dust.
Then there was nothing.
She’d done it. She’d destroyed one of her own kind.
Five ghouls attended Lucifer, and soon five piles of dust lay scattered across the meadow. But they weren’t strong creatures. Their combined strength would barely be enough to get her from this place on her own.
She still needed more.
She sent droplets scurrying over the ground, searching for any bit of energy to be found. The cold was overwhelming. She couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. All she had to guide her was the low hum of power from Evan and the demons.
A feather lay in the snow, the tip of its quill still holding a bloody bit of flesh.
A piece of Evan.
A wave of horror and revulsion stilled her at this proof of his suffering, of her guilt.
But power was power, and the remnant in this feather could help her get Evan to safety. Trickling over it, Meela took everything it held, then sent her droplets over the field searching for more.
Faster and faster she streamed over the field, trying not to think about the gruesome splatters of blood, flesh, feather and bone she encountered. Evan was an angel. Given time his body would heal and rejuvenate. In the meantime, she would collect what she could.
Quite suddenly, Evan’s torment eased. The ground under her groaned and gave a slow roll, like a behemoth settling to sleep, then the pall of evil lifted.
Lucifer was gone.
Slowly, she pulled the far-flung droplets of her being together, scanning carefully for signs of danger, and took demon form.
The sight that met her eyes nearly had her dissolving into a puddle once more.
The once-pristine snow was splattered with crimson and pink. Mahogany feathers fluttered across the clearing, driven by the biting lake winds. In the middle of it all lay Evan, his body battered and torn.
His beautiful wings had been plucked bare, the skin and muscle torn where the feathers had been ripped out in handfuls. His body had been shredded. Muscle, bone and sinew were visible, exposed by vicious bites and slashing claws.
Her stomach lurched and she forced her gaze up to his face.
Oh, Merciful Heavens, no.
She couldn’t stop the gasp of horror. One eye had swollen shut, but the other rolled in its socket, unable to close, the lids torn away. His cheek had been laid open, jaw and remaining teeth exposed. Pain emanated from him in waves, suffering so acute she could feel it in her own body. He was awake, conscious. Feeling every burning slice to his body.
The vulnerability of angels and demons alike struck her with a heavy blow. Despite all of their strengths, they would never find mercy in death. This would always be the one thing that made them all so pitiable.
“I can’t heal you,” she whispered, her tight throat cutting off the words.
Any small repair she did manage would take too much of the power she’d scavenged. Kneeling beside him, she did the one thing she could. She pressed her forehead to his and forced him to sleep before she stole the last dregs of his power.
Chapter Nine
Evan waited for the agony to hit him again. He didn’t dare open his eyes, didn’t dare breathe, because he knew the moment he did it would all come back.
Lucifer. The demons.
Meela giving him over to them.
Too late. The memory woke, and with it the pain. A crushing blow to the center of his chest, which threatened to suffocate him. It burned through him, then chilled him just as quickly.
He’d done everything he could to save her. Everything.
And she’d hand-delivered him to Satan.
He felt soiled, violated. She’d chosen Lucifer and Hell over him once more, but this time she hadn’t just walked away from his love. She’d taken it and then made it into nothing more than a mockery.
“Evangelos, are you awake?” The soft query came with a gentle hand to his brow. The touch was loving, feminine.
Not Meela’s.
He forced his eyes open and found Zaria kneeling beside him. The delicate, doll-like cherub stroked his head again and her healing power, pure and sweet as spun sugar, warmed him.
Belatedly, he realized the pall of doom was missing. The sharp winter wind and the stench of his own bile were replaced with tranquility and the soothing balm of a Heavenly breeze.
He was home, in Heaven. His pleas for rescue had been heard and they’d brought him home.
Alone.
Mists surrounded him, offering some degree of privacy, but he could see the vague outlines of angels waiting within them. Their power flowed over him, combining with that of the Most High to speed his healing.
As reassuring as the sights of home were and as thankful as he was for the concern of his fellow angels, a part of him wished they were not there. His love of Meela had made him a laughingstock once before. How much worse could this debacle be?
He’d rather lick his wounds in the privacy of in his own nest, surrounded by the verdant warmth of his own power, than be exposed to their scorn.
Zaria leaned in close, far closer than necessary, and ran her fingers through his hair in a sensual caress.
He sat and scooted away so fast it left his head spinning. His ears rang and he began to list to one side. At once, the strong arms of a seraph enveloped him, catching him before he sank to the ground once more.
“Careful, Evan. Your form is restored, but your power is still far too low.” Gabriel placed a support behind him and eased him down to recline in his resting place.
The archangel moved to Evan’s side and dismissed Zaria with a polite nod. She stroked her fingertips down Evan’s bare arm before stepping away obediently. With one last inviting smile, she vanished into the mists.
“
She’s a fine cherub,” Gabriel hinted.
Heavens, but he didn’t waste any time. “She is gracious and kind, but I am not interested in Zaria.”
“She’s loyal. Zaria wouldn’t betray you.”
Oh, but that knife struck true.
“What would you have me say, that you were right? Fine. You were. I made an error in judgment and let my soft memories guide my actions.” He lay back and threw an arm over his eyes, wishing he could send Gabriel from his presence instead of just blocking the sight of him.
“Of course I was right. How could I be wrong? You trusted a demon to go against her nature.”
“I misjudged the situation. It will not happen again. I did discover something interesting. Something Michael and his warriors will need to know.”
“And what is that?”
“Demons can be destroyed.”
“That’s not possible. They are infinite beings, like us.”
Evan could see Gabriel working through this bit of information, trying to make sense of it.
“Not like us. They began.”
“And therefore can end. I see.”
“If demons can die, then their destiny isn’t as set as we believed. This could be the bit of information you wanted.”
Evan snorted at that bit of irony. “Not that it matters now. She’s made her choice and I have shown myself to be a besotted fool once more.”
“You fed her power.” It wasn’t a statement so much as an accusation. The Archangel of Annunciation had clearly donned his legal robes.
“I did.”
“More than once.”
“Yes, and I will point out that she never used that power to harm humanity.” That was at least one burden he didn’t have to bear. His power had only been used against him.
“Can you be certain of this?”
“Absolutely. I’ve been in close contact with her for several days. And at no time did she harm, beguile or tempt a human while full of my power.”
Gabriel regarded him for a moment. Evan could see him weighing the ring of truth in the statement.
“You consorted with her.”
“I spent much time with her.”
“Do not try to prevaricate or twist my meaning, Guardian. You laid with her.”
Evan took a sharp breath. His first time, his only time, and it was tainted by this. There could be no fond memories of holding her, of her loving him.
He’d been used and his loving naiveté shattered.
Evan pushed himself up to look Gabriel in the eye. “I laid with her. There was no consummation, however, that is a mere technicality.”
“How much of a technicality?”
“I’ve already admitted my error.”
“She brought you here.”
She’d…saved him? But why would she, when she was the one who had given him to Lucifer?
It was too much to wrap his weary and hurting mind around. “Please, can we talk about something else?” Anything else.
“I wish I could, Evan, but the Most High has called for Judgment.”
Had he been any stronger, Evan would have laughed at that. “What is the point now? Meela has made it quite clear she will not accept redemption.” Despite her betrayal, the loss still weighed on him. He still hadn’t been able to save her. His love still wasn’t enough for her.
“You misunderstand. Meela is not the one on trial. You are.”
* * * * *
A hard hand between her wings knocked Meela to her knees. Before her, the Throne of the Most High stood empty. Behind her, a half dozen of Heaven’s mightiest warrior angels stood with flaming swords in hand.
Flicking her forked tongue nervously, she took in Heaven with greedy eyes. Homesickness swamped her and she tried to imagine that she could stay, that she hadn’t been dragged from outside the gates simply to be cast forcibly into Hell once more. Glowing mists stood out against the infinite blackness of the universe and spirits wreathed them with beautiful specks of light.
Beauty surrounded her, making her more aware of her soul-deep ugliness. She wished she could don an illusion, hide what she’d become, but that was impossible. Heaven was a place of pure truth and no deceit could exist there, not even a false appearance.
She could sense the presence of angels hovering there, no doubt enjoying the spectacle of the demon brought back for more punishment, but they remained hidden by the mists.
Through it all, the feeling of wrongness assailed her. She shouldn’t be here. Her banishment had been absolute. Why would they bring the damned to be damned once more?
Gabriel, the Archangel of Annunciation and Heaven’s lead legalist, appeared before her, garbed in robes of the purist white.
For a long moment he stared down his nose at her, saying nothing.
But his look of distaste spoke volumes.
“Why did you bring me here? I’m not subject to Heaven’s authority.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and lifted her chin. She had hoped to stand defiant, but the truth of her fear filled the air around them.
“No one escapes the authority of the Most High, not even demons.” Gabriel turned and in the flickering of an eye, Renatus was at his side, scroll in hand. A shiver raced through her. Too clearly, she remembered the last time she was here. Gabriel stood over her then too, listening as Ren read her list of sins.
She’d thought Ren a judgmental bastard then, and had laughed as she threw his accusations back in his face.
Then spent ten thousand years wishing she could take her flip words back.
Perhaps this was her chance to make atonement for her lack of respect.
“You will speak to the court, demon. We have questions for you. Begin by stating your name.”
“Ph—Philomela.” Her tongue stumbled over the name that no longer fit. Lover of music and dance, but her soul couldn’t take joy in such simple pleasures anymore.
“You have recently been attended by the angel, Evangelos.” Gabriel raised a brow at her, his expression making her feel cheap and tawdry.
“Evan has been…visiting me, yes.”
There was a murmur from the angels hovering around them. Were they mocking her?
Or mocking Evan?
The thought filled her with anger. She wouldn’t let them hold him up for ridicule. He’d done nothing to deserve their scorn. Her eyes narrowed and she tried to make out just who was hiding in the mist.
“He’s done more than simply visit you. In fact he’s petitioned for redemption on your behalf. He’s sustained you and barely left your side since the petition was filed.”
Petition? Merciful Heavens, what had Evan done?
“I…did not know he’d done that. I didn’t ask him to. I don’t want to cause any problems.”
“If you are so intent on not causing problems, why have you spent the last two weeks sitting by the gates? The human souls bound for the Welkin feared they would be snatched to Hell before reaching the Heavenly vault.”
She hadn’t realized it had been so long. But no one would tell her how Evan faired. Besides, Lucifer was no doubt waiting with a new set of tortures.
“I couldn’t leave.”
“You were not restrained. You could leave any time you wished.”
“No, archangel. I could not. When I leave here, Lucifer will be waiting and I have earned a punishment that will make the torment you’ve seen thus far look like nothing more than a child’s game. Excuse me for not being anxious to meet that fate.”
“I’ve seen much, demon,” Renatus said. “Much that you yourself visited on me.”
She dropped her gaze to the hem of Ren’s robes. Ren had endured tortures far worse than Evan. A lifetime of feeding them, condensed into three months.
And she had fed alongside them.
“Yes. And for that I offer my humblest apologies.”
There was a muffled gasp from the onlookers and Ren appeared to be taken aback.
“A demon apologizes?” Gabriel asked incredulously.
“No,” she corrected, “Philomela does. I was a friend to you once, and yet I treated you as nothing more than a pig to be butchered. Renatus, I wish I could take back my part in your torment.”
Ren cocked one golden brow at her. “What, no pretty excuses or begging for favor?”
She shrugged her wings. Even while in Heaven she’d been quick with a glib tongue. A user by nature.
Perhaps she’d deserved to Fall.
“I’m a demon, driven by a demon’s needs. This doesn’t make what happened to you any less horrific. I do hope, however, you will take this into account as you judge me.”
Ren watched her for long moments, his expression hard and thoughtful, before he turned away in silence to resume his scratchings on the scroll.
“And what of your transgressions against Evangelos?” Gabriel asked.
She bit her lip and stared down at her scaled knee.
“I did not want to…”
“Speak up, demon. Did you or did you not deliver Evangelos to Lucifer?”
Shame burned through her.
“I did,” she confessed, tipping her chin up to face the accusation the archangel leveled at her. It didn’t matter that she had no choice, that the oath made in desperation had burned through her veins, controlling her.
She had betrayed Evan. She was guilty.
“Evangelos fed you that day. He gave you power.”
“Yes.” He’d given her more than power. He’d loved her. He’d always loved her, and she’d been too selfish to see it.
“That was not the first time he’d fed you.”
Each statement, each accusation rang with truth so pure it hurt. Evangelos was all that was good and honest while she was a liar and thief. Whatever the Most High did to her would not be punishment enough.
“He took care of me when I needed it. He was kind and merciful. I beg for this same compassion now.”
Around them, all of Heaven’s angels waited. A hum of anticipation encircled her.
Embracing Eternity Page 10