Forgive me, brother. I already knew.
A shudder crawled over his arms as a thousand possibilities collided in his mind. At the time he’d barely acknowledged what Dagan was saying but there was only one thing the demon would have spoken of in the end. Only one thing his whispered confession could have meant.
Another archangel had told Dagan of their rescue mission. He’d already known the details, before Nate had shared them with him.
Why hadn’t he seen it before? When he and Dagan had spoken of the immortal forged sword, the demon’s reply had been enigmatic.
Is that what she told you?
He’d shrugged it off as unimportant. Not worth his time attempting to analyze. Yet Dagan had offered him a fucking great clue on a platter.
Tell her I’m sorry.
Another archangel had told him, and there was only one other archangel it could’ve been. His lover.
Astrid.
“Nate, what’s going on?” Inanna’s voice was sharp.
He turned to her, but he didn’t see the goddess. He saw his own blind prejudice when it came to his own immortal race. So eaten up by the sins of his past, he’d not even contemplated another archangel might have shared the confidential plans with Dagan.
He should have known that no one, not even an immortal, could have gained access to Astrid’s prized weapons unless she herself had allowed it. Images from Ama-gi flashed across his mind, of the times when Astrid and Dagan had indulged in biting exchanges. He’d assumed they couldn’t stand each other.
How wrong he’d been. They had been playing a dangerous game of their own.
She had given the sword to her demon lover before their goddess had called them from Ama-gi. And millennia later Nate had returned it to her.
Ice clutched his heart. He needed to speak with her. Fast.
Astrid.
I’m busy. Her response was instant. And dismissive.
Cold certainty gripped him. She knew what had happened to Dagan. Which meant she most likely also knew who had been responsible.
“What’s going on?” Inanna’s imperious demand rang through the evening air as a horrifying possibility hit him. Did Astrid also know about Isabella?
“I’ll get back to you,” he told the goddess. And in the nanosecond before he teleported, Isabella’s petrified voice filled his entire being.
Nate.
He arrived in her drawing room and his heart damn near froze. Isabella stood at an awkward angle, slumped to one side, blood spreading across her sweater. Her gaze caught his, but she didn’t seem to hear his frantic telepathic message. Or maybe she did but could no longer respond.
And Astrid was by her side, holding the phial of atmosphere that he had given her to analyze just days ago.
“It’s right that you witness this,” she said, speaking in the language of Ama-gi. “Yours for mine. Vengeance will be served.”
She intended using the toxic substance on Isabella. His stomach clenched at the thought of her suffering the same fate as Dagan. He responded in English, so Isabella could understand. “Astrid, we need to talk about this.”
“No, we don’t. There’s nothing more to be said.” As she spoke, once again in the language of the ancients, her hand shifted a hairsbreadth away from Isabella. If he could keep her talking, keep her distracted, he’d be able to grab the phial.
“I didn’t know you and Dagan were together. Even back in Ama-gi?”
The ghost of a smile shadowed her lips. “It’s thrilling, isn’t it, Nate? Keeping a forbidden secret that no one else would possibly guess.”
And look where his secret had led them all.
“You were working together with the Guardians?”
“Dagan had his projects. I had mine.”
Didn’t she know everything Dagan had been doing?
“He didn’t tell you, did he?” Isabella said, her voice raw with pain—but she was speaking the same language as Astrid. The one she’d told him she couldn’t understand. “You loved him, but he didn’t love you back.”
“Be silent.” Astrid’s voice was like ice. “You know nothing.”
“Maybe he did love you,” Isabella persisted. Why did she keep drawing attention to herself? He couldn’t even warn her. Their link was still blocked. But with Astrid momentarily diverted, he stealthily took a couple of steps closer to her. “But not enough.”
“We can work this out, Astrid,” he said. “There doesn’t need to be more bloodshed over this.”
She rounded on him. “The hybrid bitch destroyed Dagan. It’s divine justice that I destroy her. Only then will the universe be in balance once again. You know this is true.”
“I destroyed Dagan. Not Isabella. I deserve your vengeance, not her.”
“Stop. I won’t kill you, Nate. We’re of the same blood.”
Rowan’s words from when they’d been at Gabe’s thundered through his head. Blood isn’t everything. But for too long after the destruction of Ami-gi, he’d thought it was.
Blood meant nothing compared to his love for Isabella. He’d die for her, if it would save her. But there was only way out of this. There always had been.
For a split second, Astrid’s gaze wavered as she steadied the phial over Isabella’s wound. Faster than lightning, he whipped her sword from its sheath at his hip. The runes danced along the blade and then burst with light as he plunged it through her heart.
The phial tumbled from her hand onto the carpet as she turned to him. Shock glazed her eyes. But he hadn’t finished yet. There was, after all, only one sure way to kill an immortal and he wouldn’t—couldn’t—allow Astrid to go free when she’d set her sights on Isabella.
Astrid reeled, her gaze never leaving his, as she reached for him, her fingers clawing through the air. She pushed images of Ama-gi into his mind, but it was too late. Ama-gi was his past. And he didn’t want to go back.
Ruthlessly, he pulled the sword from her, gripping it with both hands as he swung it into a killing arc. Her blood dripped from the blade and she let out a gasp of pain before holding up her hands. Then she grinned, and without warning the blade disintegrated into glittering, ethereal specks of electrons, spiraling up to the hilt and vanishing beneath his fist. Astrid emitted a low, hoarse laugh, as her body mirrored the sword, fragmenting into subatomic particles that radiated from her wound, before being sucked into it, like a whirlpool from hell.
Was she dead? She’d always claimed her weapons had souls. Was it because she had bound her own soul to them? Had her sword preserved her life?
The moment she vanished Isabella staggered from her paralysis into his arms. She clutched at his coat, her breath rasping. “The poison’s inside me.”
Relief transmuted into raw terror. I arrived too late.
He shouldn’t have left her. He should have been here for her, to protect her from Astrid’s vengeance. But instead, he’d fucked off to Inanna, because he’d been unable to find the words to tell Isabella how much she meant to him.
Because he hadn’t wanted to risk discovering she didn’t feel the same for him.
His arrogant pride might yet cost Isabella her life.
He swung her into his arms and gently placed her on the sofa. There were no black threads shifting beneath her skin but what other damage was happening inside her body, that he couldn’t see?
He pressed his palm against her wound. There was no precedent for anything like this. But that was irrelevant. If he didn’t try, she could die.
“I’m going to drain the poison. If it’s too agonizing let me know. I’ll put you under.”
She gritted her teeth in the semblance of a smile. “Like hell you will. I’ll help. I can feel it sliding through my veins, like a separate entity. Should be easy enough to isolate.”
Once again, the last moments of Dagan flashed through his mind. Was Isabella’s mortal blood helping her survive?
How ironic, when for countless ages both archangels and demons had considered the blood of humans to be inferi
or to their own.
“Okay.”
He slowly inhaled, forcing his mind to calm and heartrate to slow. He couldn’t afford to let any negative energy escape when he accessed his regenerative abilities.
It wasn’t usually this hard. Brutally, he focused on the only thing that mattered.
Healing Isabella.
His mind brushed hers, an ethereal touch that echoed through his blood and sank deep into his heart. The damaged cells radiated with alien darkness. He focused his regenerative forces, intertwining with Isabella’s lighter energy, and together they fought the enemy, driving back the poison’s insidious invasion.
Something cold and alien scorched his hand.
“That’s all of it,” Isabella panted. He looked at his palm. One small drop slithered, like black quicksilver. Within a second, the phial was in his other hand, and he tipped the altered element into it, where it merged into the swirling mass. He slammed on the lid and placed the cursed thing beside him before turning back to Isabella.
Her skin was unblemished, without even a trace of a fading scar. She had already healed her wound.
A strange buzzing filled his head and the room tilted. His hands were clammy, and it had nothing to do with the dull throb of his palm where he’d caught the poison. The relief and fear intermingled, soul deep, pervading every atom of his existence, and for endless seconds he couldn’t move and could barely think beyond the one thundering reality in his head.
She’s alive.
She brushed her fingers over his arm. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
The words made no sense, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except she was safe. He exhaled a ragged breath. If anyone other than Isabella was witnessing his inability to function right now, he’d never live it down. But there was no one else in the universe who could ever witness such a thing. Because she was the only one who had captured his soul and held his life in her heart. She was his reason for being.
“Nate, I’m so sorry,” she repeated, and he still couldn’t fathom what she was talking about. A shudder wracked his body. Move, damn it. But he appeared incapable of doing anything but drinking in the fact she hadn’t succumbed to the Guardians’ toxic atmosphere.
Her hand dropped to her lap. “I won’t pretend to know how you feel. I wish I’d been able to stop her, so you hadn’t needed to make that terrible choice between us.”
The meaning behind her words penetrated his fog. She blamed herself? That was insane. He grasped her hands, pulling them to his chest, and pressed her palms over his heart.
“No.” His voice was harsh, couldn’t help it. “You or her, Isabella? There was never any choice. Don’t you get it yet? You’re all I want. I’d destroy anyone who tried to harm you, archangel or demon, there’s no difference to me. Astrid made her choice when she came after you.”
“I thought I’d lost you when I destroyed Dagan. But I’d do it again, to save you.”
There was a strange blockage in his throat. Something he’d never experienced before. Then again, he’d experienced a whole lot of things he never had before since meeting Isabella.
“If you hadn’t, I would have. I just hate knowing it’s my fault you were faced with that. A member of your own race.”
She let out a little huh and shook her head. “That’s why you went all distant when we came back here? Because you felt guilty?”
“Hey, come on.” He gave her a half-grin, attempting to lighten the mood. The way he always did because that was so much easier than digging deep and facing stark reality. “I do it so well.”
“You’ve nothing to feel guilty about.” There was a fierce note in her voice that slayed him. “Even if Eblis himself had been the one threatening your life, I wouldn’t have hesitated. The bond of blood only goes so far, Nate.”
She was right. More than she could ever know. He’d spent so long avoiding the hard questions and ignoring the truth beneath his flippant words. But he didn’t need to hide those buried slivers of his soul anymore. Not from Isabella.
He rested his forehead against hers and breathed in deep. Beneath the blood and fear that had so recently saturated the air, he caught the elusive hint of her smoky, woodsy scent that conjured up mythical groves in ancient forests.
He’d known her for so short a time, but her scent was so familiar, as though he’d been aware of her forever, and wherever she was, he was home.
But that alone didn’t absolve him.
“I’ve persecuted demon bloods for millennia, Isabella. Because of their heritage.”
“All demon bloods? Or rogues?”
He acknowledged the distinction. “Point is, would I have been as vigilant if not for what happened in Ama-gi? There are plenty of other races out there doing unspeakable things in the name of their beliefs.”
She stroked the tips of her fingers over his knuckles. “You did what you had to do.”
He threaded his fingers through hers. He wasn’t proud of everything he’d done since the destruction of Nibiru, but one thing was certain. “I’d do it all again, if it led me to you.”
Her smile was sunlight, bathing his world after the storm. “You’re such a charmer.”
“I aim to please.” And then it struck him. They’d been speaking in the language of the ancients. “Isabella, you understand Ama-gi. What happened?”
A frown flickered over her face. “When Astrid poisoned me, it felt like my consciousness fell over the edge of the universe. But…” she hesitated as though searching for the right words to explain. “I think it got into my brain. I remember flashes of dark places that I’ve never been to, constellations I’ve never seen. It’s all fading away, but the knowledge of your language is a part of me now. Maybe it was buried inside my head all along and I just couldn’t access it before.”
“Maybe.” He glanced at the phial. Much as he wanted to destroy its contents, he didn’t even know how. But since both archangels and vampires had a sample, it was only fair the gods did, too. He’d give it to Inanna. “Hell of a way to discover hidden knowledge.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it.” Her smile faded. “Astrid said something strange. That Dagan wouldn’t touch me because I’m protected by an archaic covenant. I don’t even know what that means.”
“Don’t you?” It was wrong that Dagan had seen the truth before he’d faced it himself. Before he’d had the chance to tell Isabella. But they’d been given a second chance and he wasn’t going to screw it up. “I’m guessing in the mountain the shielding to your aura was neutralized. That’s when Dagan saw the truth. That you’re the beloved of an archangel.”
Her bottom lip wobbled. Just once. It damn near broke him.
“The beloved?” Her voice was husky.
“Yeah.” He aimed for nonchalance. Failed with honors. Hell, just tell her already. “I love you, Isabella. I want to spend the rest of eternity with you by my side. You’re my everything.”
My only chance of salvation.
“Nate.” Her whisper was a caress against his skin and her blue eyes captivated him, the way they had the first night they’d met. “I spent so many years thinking I could live without love. That all I needed to be happy was to surround myself with beautiful things. And then I met you.” She traced her fingers along his jaw, his incomparable, demon blood beloved. “You’re all I need in this world. Or any other. I’ll love you until the end of time and beyond.”
For too many years he’d mourned the loss of Ama-gi, his only true home. But he didn’t need the magnificent city of his youth anymore. His home was with Isabella, wherever in the universe that might be.
Her lips met his and their kiss ensnared his soul, filled with an unbreakable promise of an endless tomorrow.
* * *
If you enjoyed Nate and Bella’s romance, please tap here to leave a review for Salvation!
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Have you read the first two books in the Realm of Flame and Shadow series?
Redemption
Can the fallen ever be redeemed?
The Archangel Gabriel and Aurora’s romance.
Nemesis
Falling for her nemesis is the most dangerous thing she's ever done...
The Archangel Azrael and Rowan’s romance.
* * *
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About the Author
Christina Phillips is an ex-pat Brit who now lives in sunny Western Australia with her high school sweetheart and their family. She enjoys writing paranormal, historical and contemporary romance where the stories sizzle and the heroine brings her hero to his knees.
She is addicted to good coffee, expensive chocolate and bad boy heroes. She is also owned by three gorgeous cats who are convinced the universe revolves around their needs. They are not wrong.
Acknowledgments
As always, a huge thanks to my fabulous writing buddies, Amanda and Sally. Your support and friendships are everything!
Massive thanks to Amanda Ashby, for always making me dig deeper, and for asking the hard questions and not letting me off the hook! Your insights and ability to find the heart of the story are amazing.
And thank you to Mark, who never complains when I have a meltdown and ask you to fix my laptop problems (had a few of them this year!) and basically for putting up with my writerly weirdness! I couldn't do this without you!
Also by Christina Phillips
Salvation: A Realm of Flame and Shadow Novel Page 27