Iridescent (Ember 2)

by Carol Oates

  She leaned in, her fingers exploring his chest, his abdomen…going lower. Sebastian sucked in a breath violently, and his eyes rolled back in his head. The sensations Ananchel could elicit made it hard to remember why he was here. It was electricity and heat across his skin, elastic bands flicking at his flesh, tingling in every nerve. A deep shiver contracted his muscles and released over and over.

  Sebastian swallowed hard and heard the sound of his jaw clinking inside his head. “I need…” His throat was arid, and he licked his lips as her breath stroked his neck and her hand traveled even lower toward the band of his jeans.

  “What do you want, Sebastian? Tell me what you would like me to do for you,” she hummed, taking his earlobe between her lips and tugging on it with her teeth.

  Sebastian hissed at the sensation and closed his eyes, concentrating on willing away the building passion and the urge to grip her hips and pull her nearer. She matched each step he took backward, keeping them virtually chest to chest until his back hit the brick wall and there was nowhere left for him to go. He had invited her here, and he had invited this. He needed her. Ananchel’s powers were almost impossible for him to resist under these circumstances.

  His blood boiled and thundered through his body with each sharp heartbeat, like a knife through his chest. His nails dug into the palms of his hands, and the dampness told him he had drawn blood. The stinging did nothing to distract him. If anything, it added to the heightened sensations flooding his body.

  Forgetting this way had once been second nature to Sebastian. There was a time when handing himself over to his physical desires had been a way to run from his emotional pain. He could go for days with Ananchel torturing his body, settling him on the cusp between pleasure and pain until he couldn’t take another second of it. He’d always given in eventually. Submission was her ultimate goal, making Sebastian give in…breaking him. Forsaking control was his freedom and his prize for allowing her to win.

  Not this time, his mind screamed. Sebastian forced images of Candra from his brain, refusing to allow this moment to taint her. None of this was her fault; her strength and character eclipsed his in every way. It was his decision to run from his responsibilities and everything they entailed. It was him who had made such a mess of everything by giving in to his emotions. At least this way, everyone would have a chance at getting what they needed, even him—if they made it through alive.

  “Stop,” he panted as Ananchel’s finger dipped into his waistband, pushing on the back of the button and ready to pop it open. “Stop!” Sebastian roared.

  He pushed Ananchel away with both hands and fell to his knees on the filthy ground at her feet. He couldn’t hold his own weight and stayed there, sucking in deep breaths that felt like broken glass passing through his lungs. Droplets of sweat dripped onto the back of his hands, and his hair matted to his head. Sebastian focused on the condensed air puffing from his lips in clouds of smoke to steady his breathing.

  “I feel sorry for you,” Ananchel informed him with malice lacing through each syllable. “You don’t deserve her. You don’t deserve anyone. You hold us all up to your exacting standards, and even you can’t live up to them. You will spend your entire existence living with disappointment because of it.”

  Sebastian lifted his eyes to look up to her through messy clumps of hair. Ananchel crossed her arms, tapping her fingers on the inside of her elbow impatiently.

  “You know nothing about me,” he spat. “You never did. Who are you to stand over me and judge what I deserve? I know all about what you have done. You are part of this as much as I am.”

  Ananchel threw her head back so far that her face disappeared from sight and laughed. Sebastian pressed his hands onto his thighs and forced himself to stand on shaky legs. The tightness in his face drew his eyebrows into a frown. He wanted to vomit, and bile fizzled inside his stomach. There was no one else he could ask. It had to be Ananchel. She was the only one he knew who would be willing to inflict that amount of pain. She might even enjoy it.

  She continued to laugh blackly and commenced walking back and forth in front of him. Each turn was exaggerated, while she clapped her hands together in amusement. Sebastian could acknowledge her external beauty without being blind to the darkness that existed inside her. He’d once believed her darkness fueled his attraction to her, her ability to suck a person down into oblivion. She truly was a beautiful physical specimen of womanhood. Her face had an air of ethereal beauty about it. Like all of them, she appeared young but could have existed in any century effortlessly.

  Ananchel’s laughter faded, but her wide smile and bright gleaming eyes didn’t waver in displaying her mirth. “Stupid boy, you have no idea of what I’ve done.”

  “Really?” Now it was his turn to be smug, even if he couldn’t fully enjoy it. “Brie told me you helped Payne fall…and then her.”

  Ananchel paused and turned her head to glance over her shoulder. “Did she now?”

  “It’s pointless trying to deny it.”

  “Why would I try?” Ananchel spun and pursed her lips for an instant, looking Sebastian up and down. “I helped Payne because I liked him. He was willing to sacrifice everything for what he believed and those he loved. I helped Brie because the child needed protectors. You still have no comprehension of what she lost…what she left behind.”

  “We’ve all sacrificed.”

  “No!” Ananchel growled, standing straight as a pole. “You did not. You have always taken the easy option.”

  Sebastian dipped his head and chuckled bleakly at her assertion. How could she still believe any one of them was immune to suffering, or that the world they lived in right now was the one any of them wanted? Her clicking heels approached him. He lifted his eyes to see her stalk toward him until they were nose to nose, eye to eye, and her hot breath flooded his mouth. Her voice was low when she spoke with an eerie calm, almost devoid of any emotion at all.

  “You could have stopped it. Just one word from you, Sebastian, and the Arch would never have abandoned us. You were always the Arch’s favorite.”

  “How?” Sebastian’s eyes widened at her accusation, half-shock, half-surprise.

  None of them remembered with enough clarity to level such a charge at another. He straightened his shoulders indignantly.

  “Oh, I remember.” Her words soured with an undertone and a grimace that contorted her lovely face to a scowl. Although her ugly rage couldn’t fully distract from her beauty, it would do nothing to endear her to any rational male. “It’s part of my special torment. I remember it all.”

  Sebastian felt his lips move to speak, and his tongue rolled over words that didn’t come. Ananchel’s eyes roamed over his face once more in disgust before she stepped back.

  “And now you want to fall. You want Draven to clean up your mess so you can sail off into the sunset with your love. Am I right?”

  Sebastian gulped, losing some of his bravado. He hadn’t guessed Ananchel read him so completely. “After Lilith is gone, yes.”

  “None of us know what will happen after. Would you forgo the Arch’s reward, the possibility of heaven?”

  “Maybe heaven isn’t back there. Maybe my heaven is right here, with her. I don’t want any more than that.”

  “Ah, love, such a magnificent emotion. The world becomes a wondrous place to be. Except it isn’t. It’s still a dreadful, decrepit place, filled to overflowing with pain and suffering. It’s your perception of what surrounds you that’s changed. Love has blinded you, Sebastian, and one morning, you will wake up and see the world for what it really is again.”

  “I see just fine now,” Sebastian snapped.

  “Why not ask Lofial or Gabriel?”

  “You know why,” he retorted.

  Ananchel hummed thoughtfully, keeping her back to Sebastian. A moment later, her long legs crossed at the ankle, and she spun lightly as a ballerina toward him. Her hair lifted and captured the few stray beams of silver moonlight, becoming like flames c
aught in a draft. “Silly, silly Sebastian. You really are clueless and honestly have no idea what’s going on here, do you?”

  Sebastian tilted his head, attempting to measure Ananchel’s body language. His fingers became rigid, his joints cracking in the process.

  “About?” he asked uneasily.

  Ananchel smirked. “You’d better hold on to your petticoat, sweetheart. You are about to go down the mother of all rabbit holes.”

  “What are you talking about?” Sebastian demanded. He lacked the patience or desire to spend time deciphering riddles right now. He wanted to see Candra. He needed to explain to her why he had to do this. His decision wasn’t only for her, although Candra was the major part of his reasoning. Sebastian had debated back and forth with himself endlessly and decided the only way to ensure her protection was to step aside and give Draven full control of decisions. He had become lax and sloppy, doubting himself at every turn. As much as he hated to admit it, Draven had proven himself the better leader.

  His life-altering decision was twofold. Sebastian knew falling was inevitable now. For the first time, he imagined what humans had in growing old together. He could see the beauty of it, and he wanted it. He didn’t want to wait another day but would delay out of duty to those who had stood by him all his life. He intended to wait until they’d eliminated the immediate threat facing them and not a moment longer. He rationalized to himself that he wasn’t walking away but was conceding to the better man. Something he should have done long ago.

  It was better for everyone this way. One thing Candra had taught him was that love was an all or nothing commitment. There were no half-measures, and once Lilith was gone, he would face the future with her as near to a human man as he could be.

  “It was me. I released her,” Ananchel said plainly, but he didn’t understand.

  Sebastian had already told her he knew she was the one who had helped Payne and Brie fall. He considered the action to possibly be her only redeeming quality.

  “Lilith has the Creation Blade.”

  “Impossible. It can’t be wielded by an angel, if it existed at—” Sebastian’s heart rate spiked, and his legs tensed. The tingle that preceded his wings appearing prickled down his spine, and the hairs on his arms stood.

  “You think I couldn’t persuade a human male to assist me?” Ananchel cut in before he got a chance to finish. “I remembered where to find it, and I released her. I gave her the key to heaven and to destroying the Arch.”

  The tingle quickly erupted into a crackle of intense heat. His wings shot out through his skin, his cotton shirt, and leather jacket in a fraction of a second. The same moment was all Sebastian needed to pin Ananchel to the dirty wall of the alley. He held both her forearms beside her head and kept her legs in place with his, panting from the exertion of his fury.

  “Why would you do such a stupid, ridiculous thing?”

  “Stupid? Really, Sebastian? Your loyalty to the Arch remains even after you’ve been cast aside like an old rag. Haven’t you ever thought of revenge?”

  Sebastian’s grip loosened; whether soothed by her voice or her influence, he wasn’t sure.

  Ananchel pulled one of her hands free and wound her index finger seductively into his hair. “Hasn’t it ever flittered through that beautiful blond head of yours?”

  No, it hadn’t. Despite everything, despite not being forgiven his sins and abandoned here along with the Tenebras, he had never thought of seeking revenge. Things were as they were. Without rules, there would be chaos, and neither he nor any of the other Watchers deserved exclusion from the laws of heaven. Sebastian had no option but to speak; she was waiting for him to say something, watching him provocatively with a snide glint in her expression.

  “There is no revenge between heaven and Earth that can give any of us back what we have lost. The past can’t be changed.”

  Ananchel’s leg lifted, and Sebastian felt her knee skim lightly along the inseam of his jeans. In a sudden burst of energy, Ananchel forced Sebastian backward, gripping his jacket front and slamming him into the wall on the opposite side of the alley. His wings shuddered, uselessly trapped between molding paper and his body. Ananchel had unleashed her wings, a terrifying, yet delectable sight. Her plumage stretched out wide from her back with sleek black feathers that looked as though the tips had been dipped in blood.

  “The Arch created the world, created race after race of beings to adore and bow down to the laws of heaven. You think the Arch couldn’t shuffle time a little and make it so none of it happened? You are a fool, Sebastian.”

  His brain was foggy, and her touch made his blood rush under his skin. Sebastian’s fingers clawed into his legs, straining at the heavy denim fabric. Anything to stop his hand from straying to her hips again. Inside his mind, a battle for control raged. Her will repeatedly tapped at the wall he had constructed inside his mind to keep her at bay. She relentlessly sought out his weakness in an attempt to tear him down. Sebastian wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out if she kept up this game.

  “Lilith didn’t want heaven,” she continued, pressing her chest against his and trailing her words centimeters away from his jaw, making his skin prickle. “She wanted revenge, just like me. She wanted this world—she wants this world. It was her world first before those humans you love so much crawled up out of the primordial swamp. With the Arch gone, we could have returned to heaven.”

  Sebastian launched himself off the wall, past Ananchel, and landed squatting on the ground several feet away. His body quivered, as if someone had struck a match inside his stomach and lit a charge that powered through his entire body. He stayed in his crouch, twisting slowly to face Ananchel, skimming his fingertips over dirty concrete.

  It happened fast—a fraction of a second. He caught Ananchel with one hand under her jaw and the other at her shoulder, forcing her backward. Both their bodies shuddered on impact against the decaying brick wall. Sebastian slammed Ananchel against it again for good measure, while snarling like an animal up to her face in the mist of putrid dust.

  “Then why haven’t we?” Sebastian roared. Rage coursed through his whole body until his limbs shook.

  Ananchel’s smile made Sebastian’s stomach twist into a knot so violent, it almost folded him in two. He let her go, clutching his arms across his midsection and hoping the pressure would somehow relieve the sensation. He looked up to her, panting through puffy clouds of condensation, and felt warm sweat trickle down his clammy skin.

  She swished her long hair over her shoulder and released a breath. “My plans have changed. Before Lilith destroyed the Arch, Candra was created to act against her. He knew Lilith wouldn’t stop at heaven. Candra’s creation was…unexpected. She’s unique, like us but not—Draven deserves someone as special as her. I believe he is in love with Candra, though he would never admit it. Not even to himself.”

  “You say that like it should be an epiphany for me.” Sebastian sneered up to her. He had walked straight into a trap. Ananchel had him precisely where she wanted him, crumpled over at the feet of the real monster—the puppet master. “Well, I’m sorry, but it isn’t.”

  He forced himself to stand while her eyes traveled lazily up and down his body, as if he was a tasty morsel she contemplated consuming, before she locked her fierce gaze on his face. Her tongue flicked out across her top lip, leaving a moist trail. He heard his heart inside his skull beating out a thunderous rhythm and working steadily toward a crescendo before it halted, and his eyes grew wide. Sebastian predicted what her next words would be before she spoke them.

  “She plans to take Candra.”

  “Take?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow, questioning her use of words. For as much as he wanted to walk away and rethink his plans to exclude the vile piece of trash in front of him, he knew that would be counterproductive. He couldn’t just walk away without allowing Ananchel’s narcissism to betray her plans. Then he would let Draven deal with her. Punishment would be swift for consorting with Lilith an
d plotting to destroy the Arch. Retribution would be immeasurably exacting when handed down by the only person in this world she cared for.

  “She wants to possess Candra’s body, force her soul so far down that the Candra you and I know will never see the light of day again. She will exist in an endless torment, senseless and with no concept of time, inside a body she cannot control. When she is joined with Lilith, she will float in utter blackness for eternity.”

  Ananchel paused, and Sebastian held his tongue, guessing there was more. Ananchel was nothing if not dramatic.

  “I guess you would call it hell.”

  And there it was. Sebastian realized instinctually that she wasn’t sharing this information for the good of her health. Ananchel had a plan. He wondered if she ever truly expected him to come to her or if this meeting had been a boon falling into her lap. What would she have done if he hadn’t made a decision regarding his existence? Did she have a back-up plan? Was he so transparent, or was it simply Ananchel attempting to convince herself of her own importance?

  “You have to realize that the moment I leave here, I will go straight to Draven with this. We will find a way to stop Lilith with or without the blade.”

  Ananchel smiled smugly, drumming her fingers on the inside of her elbow again. “No, you won’t.”

  Sebastian turned from her in a move he hoped would show her he didn’t fear her. She might control his body and infiltrate his mind…to a point. He would not give her the satisfaction of fear. Even with his back turned and several paces away, Sebastian could tell where she stood still, watching. If she moved, he would hear the soft clicking of her heels, the caress of her leather-clad thighs against each other with every step. Even the way dust particles swirled around them when Ananchel moved to tilt her head and the barely audible ruffle of her wings gave her away. Sebastian could move just as fast if he needed to, regardless of what she threw at him.