Forsaken_Cursed Angel Watchtower 12

by Gilbert, L. B.

  This is dying. He had only one regret. Trading his life for Kara’s meant he wouldn’t be able to speak to her or see her made whole again.

  The intense fire faded. Raphael backed away, removing his hand.

  Ash blinked, surprised he could still see. “What the hell, Raph!” Had his brother gone back on their deal?

  Raphael smiled, reading his mind. “Don’t worry. I didn’t go back on my word.”

  A female voice broke in. “I don’t know who you are, but if you don’t get your damn hand off me right now, you’re not getting it back.”

  The Seraph snatched his hand away, moving to reveal a beautiful—and not dead—Kara.

  Ash shoved Raphael to the side before pulling her into his arms in a tight hug.

  Her arms squeezed back hesitantly before she snatched them away. She patted her stomach, now intact. Kara lifted her shirt and started, disappointment marring her otherwise-perfect face. “Did I fail?”

  Raphael poked his head into her line of sight. “No, you succeeded. The Firehorse curse has been broken. Now you get your reward—an average human life.”

  Ash didn’t understand what was going on. “What about our deal? I’m supposed to be dead.”

  Kara’s mouth dropped open. She smacked him on the arm…and it actually stung a bit. “You’re supposed to be what?”

  “I’ll explain later, my love,” he promised, gesturing at Raphael to get on with it.

  “Well…because of the complications that we discussed earlier,” he said, glancing at Kara from the corner of his eye. “God, in his infinite wisdom, came up with a compromise that will balance the scales, metaphorically speaking. You traded your life for hers.”

  “I know that part. But here I am—alive,” he hissed.

  Raphael’s smirk was back in place. “Alive and mortal.”

  Ash frowned. “What did you say?”

  “What you gave up was your immortal life. God stripped it from you. You’re not an angel anymore.” The Seraph checked Ash up and down. He didn’t look all that impressed. “Now you’re just a man, Well, mostly. You’ll still be stronger, faster, and smarter than most. Not all men, of course, but then, you never really were all that bright as an angel ei—”

  Kara reached over and pinched the Seraph, making him jump in the air. “Finish that sentence and I’ll slap you.”

  Raphael wrinkled his nose. “I begin to see why you like this one. She reminds me of you.” The tone wasn’t complimentary, but Kara beamed at him anyway.

  “But I was dying,” Ash protested. “I could feel it. I still feel it.”

  “No, you weren’t. That’s just what mortality feels like,” Raphael corrected. “Like everyone else on earth, you’ll die a little every day. Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it.”

  The Seraph began to back away. “All right then. My job is done here. Enjoy your happily ever after.” He disappeared in a blaze of light.

  Kara’s eyes widened. “Wow. Is that guy always such a toerag?”

  Ash laughed, the rumble tickling his chest. It was a new and strange sensation, but not an unpleasant one. “It’s sort of an angel trait. Believe it or not, he’s actually one of the least annoying ones.”

  “Really?” Kara’s eyes widened and then she blinked, her eyes clouding. “Are you really mortal now?” she whispered.

  He ran his hands down his chest and over his arms. Even his skin felt different—thinner and more sensitive. “I think so.”

  Her cheeks quivered. “No. That’s not right. You can’t give up your immortality for me.”

  He pulled her off the altar. Not only was the blood gone from her clothes, but they were also intact again. “I would do anything for you.”

  She continued to shake her head. “But all you’ve wanted for thousands of years was to go home. What if you regret this someday?”

  “Don’t worry about that. Not ever. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

  Epilogue

  Ten Years Later

  Ash finished tightening the last bolt on the new antenna array with a satisfied sigh. He slipped the wrench into his tool belt, and then walked along the narrow metal beam surrounding the topmost level of Heaven’s Spire. The new monument stood in place of the Montmeurtre, a gleaming blue and white metal spire that served double duty. It was both the new communications tower as well as a monument to Bastille’s liberation.

  A few kilometers away, a dirigible was departing from the Montparnasse station. The red-colored balloon marked it as the new long-distance airship. The engineers had even added some decorative rivets to the ribbing, giving it a distinctive steampunk flair.

  Satisfaction welled in his breast. It was such beautiful sight, one he got to see three times a week now. The airship tracked across the city, disappearing south as it began its journey to New Toulouse.

  Many things had changed in the years since the Firehorse curse was broken. No longer subject to regular bouts of destruction and disaster, Bastille had slowly recovered.

  The earthquake and fire damage had been repaired. The Seine’s banks had been reinforced and equipped with extra drainage to handle the elevated levels during the rainy reason. The sewer and water purification systems were also up and running. Most of the condemned buildings had been torn down. They were in the process of being replaced, but the mayor’s office was still working on clearing the ring of rubble and derelict vehicles that once circled the city. New construction had laid out a city plan in the shape of Triquetra, a simple sigil design that would help ward Bastille from future demon attack.

  Mazarin was dead. His bones had been found in the wasteland a few weeks after the city’s emancipation. He was identified by the gold jewelry he always wore.

  Ash was officially retired. He’d turned over stewardship of the city to Samuel a few years ago after a hard-won election against Madeleine Brès. Ash’s instincts about the former night man had been proven correct. Though initially a bit overcautious, Samuel had developed into a capable and compassionate leader—not as good as Kara would have been—but effective nonetheless. Dr. Brès had accepted defeat with good grace. She’d started a flourishing medical school instead.

  The council was no more. It had been abandoned in favor of a traditional representative republic with a single head. The mayor would serve five years, and no more.

  Kara had turned down the job of mayor in favor of many others. His extremely busy wife refused to settle into any one profession. Finally able to explore her passions, she had started as a community organizer before deciding to spearhead the reconstruction effort. Kara had later served as a demolitions expert, which had sparked an interest in architecture. She had retrofitted the Grand and Petit Palais before laying the groundwork for the new university. Her last project had been designing Heaven’s Spire.

  The sun dipped in the sky, reminding Ash he was expected home for the evening meal. He climbed down the balustrade, circumventing the stairwell in favor of descending the length of the structure freehand.

  When he reached the ground, a little boy about four years old was staring at him openmouthed. “Weren’t you scared?”

  Ash’s lips quirked. “I like heights,” he told the child, patting him on the head. Humming, he waved goodbye before turning down Avenue Duquesne to catch the streetcar home. He and Kara had built a micro-farm over the ruins of the Luxembourg gardens.

  Before he’d lost his wings, the trip would have taken a few minutes. But Ash didn’t mind the commute. Crossing the city was a pleasure again.

  Thanks to his and Kara’s insistence on using steam and solar power, the city’s air was crisp and clean, and the trees and bushes were lush and healthy. He loved how the city smelled after it rained, and welcomed the bite in the air that heralded the arrival of autumn.

  Ash was a few hundred yards away from his house when the high-pitched babble of children’s voices reached him.

  His son was being forcibly removed from the roof of their home by his irate mother again. Mor
e amused than he should have been, Ash stopped to watch the fracas from behind a tree. He’d learned from experience that showing his delight over his children’s antics was a big mistake.

  “I don’t wanna!” Little Marcus wailed as Kara reached up to snag him with one arm. Foiled, the boy howled, just as Renée, Marcus’ twin sister, ran across the roof. His daughter neatly avoided capture, launching herself into the open air wearing nothing but a cloth diaper and a makeshift white cape.

  Ash caught her easily before she landed in the bushes.

  “Hello, love.” He grinned at his fuming wife.

  Kara rolled her eyes. “Take this,” she said, thrusting little Marcus into his arms. She turned her back on them all, stomping inside as he juggled their children in his arms, bouncing them high between kisses hello. “I’m serious this time—I’m going to line the roof with spikes. Maybe that will finally keep their feet on the ground.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “I doubt that would do any good. Their love of heights is probably genetic,” he apologized before chastising the children in his best dad voice.

  “We’re sorry, Mommy and Daddy,” the twins chorused with their hands pressed together in front of them in their best imitation of praying cherubs.

  “Sure you are,” Kara said, her eyes narrowed skeptically on their sweet little faces.

  Ash hoisted the twins higher, so they could apologize to their mother properly.

  Kara managed to keep the annoyed facade up for a whole minute more before she crumbled under the assault of the twin’s sticky kisses. Satisfied with their act of contrition, Ash put them back down on the ground.

  “Go wash up for dinner,” he ordered benevolently, swatting each on the bottom gently to get them moving.

  “I swear those two will be the death of me,” Kara muttered, crossing to the dining room to set the table.

  He followed, waiting until the patter of little feet had died down in the distance before taking her in his arms and kissing her passionately. When he was done, he was fairly certain she didn’t remember the roof incident anymore.

  Pressed close together, they chatted about the coming meal before she got around to asking him about his day. “How was the meeting with the Mexico City envoy?”

  He lifted his head, reluctantly interrupting his nibbling on her neck. “Ambassador Rebekah postponed until tomorrow, so I moved up the antennae array installation to today,” he said.

  “Ah.” She tsked. “So the children weren’t the only ones playing daredevil this afternoon.”

  “I was careful,” he protested, deciding not to mention his method of descent.

  “Mmm-hmm,” Kara murmured noncommittally. “Does this mean the antique television you have gathering dust in the attic will soon be gracing the salon? Or is it another false start?”

  “I think we’ve cracked it this time, but I’m more excited about this,” he confessed with a grin. He pulled out the steam-powered mobile phone prototype he’d picked up at the Ecole Polytechnique earlier that morning.

  Kara stopped to examine the device. The phone was a simple box with a dial and a flat round combination speaker-microphone affixed to the top. In terms of innovation, it paled in comparison to the smartphones of the pre-Collision era, but he didn’t care. He was intensely proud of the thing and the people who had built it, much in the way he was of his wife and her accomplishments.

  “Once the network is up, we’ll make sure every city head in France has one of these,” he enthused. “Bastille will never be cut off again.”

  “What about you?”

  “Hmm?” he murmured, distracted. He didn’t look up until the silence registered.

  Kara was watching him with an adorable line puckering her brows. “Don’t you miss it?”

  He blanked. “Miss what?”

  “Heaven,” she said, her eyes tight at the corners. “I know you miss flying. How can our lives compare with being an all-powerful angel?”

  This again. “I don’t need wings to fly when I’m with you,” he promised, his heart welling with love and pride.

  She wrinkled her nose. “So cheesy.”

  “Guilty.” He brushed his lips against her forehead, and then pulled back to stare deeply into her eyes. “I wouldn’t want to go back. Any place that doesn’t let you in is not somewhere I want to be.”

  Kara bit her lip, still pensive. She knew her blood forever barred her from Heaven. He’d told her the truth years ago.

  His heart ached to see her so distressed. “Please don’t let this bother you. I know it’s unfair. Of all the people in the universe, you deserve to know the joy of being in His sight and vice versa. If He could but see you, I know He would change his mind and make an exception, because no one in this universe could ever deny your spirit.”

  A tear slipped past Kara’s thick lashes. “I know you find this hard to believe, but I really don’t care about that.” She squeezed him tighter. “My Heaven is here with you.”

  He gripped her hand tightly and deepened their embrace until she pushed him away to catch her breath.

  Kara was flushed and still breathing fast when a mischievous glint appeared in her eye. She coughed and pulled away. “I do have one request—more of a challenge really. And I’m afraid it may prove more difficult than any of the challenges we’ve faced before.”

  Ash pulled himself up to his full height. “Whatever it is, consider it done.”

  She put her hand on his shoulders, her face grave. “Be certain. This is nothing short of a trial by fire.”

  Confused and concerned, he nodded. “As long as it doesn’t require an angel’s powers, I’ll slay whatever dragons you set in front of me.”

  “This is not far off…” She pushed his shoulder and pointed to the stairs. “Go and make sure those children are washed up for dinner. They’re probably back on the roof again.”

  Ash laughed, the sound filling the room. “I will not fail you,” he promised, remembering the Seraph’s parting advice when he challenged him to liberate Bastille.

  Ash much preferred this mission, but Kara had a point. Saving the city might prove easier…

  He stooped to steal another kiss before leaving to carry out his lady’s quest, whistling as he went.

  The End.

  * * *

  Want more fantastic fantasy from L.B. Gilbert? Check out her award-winning Elementals series.

  Also by L.B. Gilbert

  "A hot-tempered heroine and the charmingly undead prove a winning combination." -- Kirkus Reviews

  A 2017 READERS' FAVORITE SILVER MEDAL WINNER

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  A kick-ass heroine with pyrokinetic abilities and a license to kill. Enter Alec...vampire, scholar, and worst of all--fan. What could possibly go wrong?

  Diana, the fire Elemental, is nearly burned out. Tired of traveling the world and losing innocent lives, she's slowly slipping into a depression that may consume her. But when she discovers that a child's life is in danger, she feels compelled to help. However, teaming up with one of the most powerful vampires in North America is the last thing she wants to do.

  Academic scion, Alec Broussard prefers his studies over the opulent and vicious lifestyles of vampires. And when he learns of another missing child, Alec can't shake the suspicion that his coven may be to blame. Joining forces with an Elemental may be his only hope to save the child and clear his coven's name.

  As Diana and Alec work together to save the children, they must relinquish their prejudices and trust one another. In time, Alec is wearing down the walls around her. But just when their friendship intensifies, Alec's future is threatened. Now, it's up to Diana to save him before it's too late. Can this Elemental find the fire within her to protect him once and for all?

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  About the Author

  USA Today bestselling author L.B. Gilbert spent years getting degrees from the most prestigious universities in America, including a PhD that she is not using at
all. She moved to France for work and found love. She's married now and living in Toulouse with one adorable half-French baby.

  She has always enjoyed reading books as far from her reality as possible, but eventually the voices in her head told her to write her own. And, so far, the voices are enjoying them. You can check out the geeky things she likes on twitter or Facebook.

  And if you like a little more steam with your Fire, check out the author's romance erotica titles under her married name Lucy Leroux…

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