“Mercy comes in many forms, Imorean. This is the mercy of an Archangel.”
It was the quietness in Michael’s voice that made Imorean snap.
“You chose us so that you wouldn’t be taking away the lives of people who were supposed to live full ones!” he shouted. He didn’t care how loudly his own voice rang back at him off the mountains. It didn’t matter who heard him. “Better to get the kids who were supposed to die than kill the ones who were supposed to live, right?”
“It was a second chance.”
“A second chance? It’s a stay of execution, Michael!” Imorean gritted his teeth. Mandy, Dustin, Toddy, Rachel, Isaac, his grandparents, his mother. All whose lives had been ruined by Michael’s decision for mercy and second chance.
“Mercy is dependent on perspective,” said Michael, his voice quiet.
Imorean swallowed hard, beating back furious tears that gathered in the corners of his eyes. “Maybe you should check your own definition of mercy before you tell me to check my own …Why?”
“Beg pardon?”
“Why did you, you, of all possible angels, choose me?”
Cold and sharp. Imorean felt ice waver off Michael. It was there only for a split second, then it was covered. He balked. That coldness. He had only felt it a handful of times before from an Archangel. Fear.
“I had hoped to have this conversation at another time.”
“You mean under your terms,” snapped Imorean.
“In a controlled environment.” Michael sighed sharply. “Do you really want to know? You will not like my answer.”
“Just tell me. For once, be honest with me.”
“If you insist. Imorean, I chose you because you were different. When we choose the future hybrids, we consult many things. Maps, current political situations, current world climates, but the most important consultations are records of birth, life and death. As your grandfather was a hybrid, we looked at you. You already had some angel in your genes. We saw that your father was slated to die early, so that piqued our interest in you.”
Michael stopped and looked away. Imorean extended his consciousness toward him. Green eyes flicked to him, but Michael didn’t push him away. Imorean brushed his wingtips against Michael’s and felt his hesitation.
“Go on.” Imorean heard the harshness in his own voice, teeth gritted.
“You were not there. Your page was missing. Someone had removed it.”
“What?”
“Let me finish,” said Michael. Imorean took a sharp breath. Michael started again, words faster now, as though he was desperate to get rid of them. “Heaven’s scribe stated that no one had come or gone from her records save us, the Archangels, so who had removed your page was a mystery. It could not have been Vortigern or anyone affiliated with him, as they cannot gain access to heaven – yet. Of course, you had not been born by this point, so I could not decipher what had happened. Everyone chalked it up to a simple accident. A misprint. Except me. I made a note of you and waited. When you were very young, I ran my own check on you to see if you even really existed. You did, and from the moment I saw you, I suspected that somehow Inmerael had known of you and visited you himself. My suspicion about Inmerael’s interference was confirmed this past spring when you found me in Iceland. I had a hunch for a long time, that through some feat, Inmerael had also torn your page out. It was subtle enough to not raise suspicion, but to show me there was something different about you. When I saw you, I knew what I was meant to do. I made my decision in a split second. You would have the grace of two Archangels in you. You were our opportunity. We would be your second chance and you would be ours. Whether you were supposed to die or not, none of us will ever know. I will never have an answer for you. We needed you then. We still do.”
Imorean took a stuffy breath. Tears were back in his eyes. “I could have had a normal life?”
Michael paused for a split second longer than usual. “It is possible.”
“And my grandparents, they would have never had to die? Mandy and Dustin would never have been killed? Toddy, my mom, Rachel and Isaac, they would have never been taken away?” Imorean heard the savage fury in his own voice but made no attempt to restrain it.
Michael blinked hard and swallowed. “Correct.”
“I’ve been blaming Vortigern for everything that’s happened. But I’m wrong. This is your fault.” A tear raced down Imorean’s cheek and he shoved Michael hard in the chest. “All your selfish, stupid fault!”
Something in Michael’s consciousness flinched and he stumbled back a pace. Imorean saw a small muscle in Michael’s jaw twitch. There was no anger in the motion.
Breath hitched in Imorean’s chest. “My entire life … ruined, because of you.”
“Do you want me to apologize?” asked Michael. He sounded lost.
“No! You did this! No apology will ever make this right, Michael!”
Heat lashed through Imorean’s veins. White filmed his vision. It cleared a heartbeat later, but a line of white fire lay smoldered on the ground between them, extinguishing a few seconds later. Across from him, Michael swallowed hard, wings twitching. Emotion in Imorean’s chest shattered. He could have sworn his heart broke. Everything he had done with Michael – all those hours of training, all the time he had spent building trust in him, the journey across Iceland he had taken to bring Michael back, all the lies, all the deceit, even all the truth – it meant nothing. Absolutely nothing. And yet, at the same time, it meant everything. Absolutely everything. It was the solid foundation he had built his angel life upon, and yet it seemed to have turned to sand. Nothing Michael could say now would shift what he knew. Nothing Michael could do now would change what had been done. A second tear traced Imorean’s other cheek. Ruined. All ruined. Perhaps it was better that he had never known. The words had barely formed in his mind before they were out of his mouth.
“I hate you.”
Emerald eyes closed and, for the first time since he had known him, Imorean felt some deep part of Michael crumble.
Michael’s voice was quieter than Imorean had ever known it to be. Barely above a whisper. Barely speech at all. Shaking. “I knew you would.”
Chapter 64
A low haze had settled over the mountains. Imorean shivered. He only had his uniform jacket with him and refused to put it back on. He swallowed and kept his eyes on the mountain range. His vantage point from Houska’s rooftop was a good one. No one from below could see him and he couldn’t see them. It was perfect. Tomorrow. He only had to deal with this awkward air until tomorrow. Tomorrow his friends would be here. He didn’t remember the last time he had wanted to see them so badly. A light breeze stirred his hair and he pulled his knees up to his chest, not shifting his gaze from the mountains beyond. Unsafe and insecure, the mountains were the only things that made him feel anywhere close to stable. They made him feel closer to home – the North Carolina home he had been torn from. Wrong. Everything felt wrong. How was it that things could go from feeling as though they were brightening, to feeling as though they had been plunged back into the deepest depths of the sea? Imorean swallowed hard and settled his chin on his knees. He wanted to press rewind. He wanted to go back. To set his life to rights. He wasn’t supposed to be here. His life could have, should have, been so different. He exhaled, the movement feeling oddly foreign. He shuffled his wings, the white feathers making a strange noise on the roof. They were jarring reminders that he was present. That time would not reverse. That the only direction was forward.
“We wondered where you’d got to.”
Imorean turned. Gabriel had landed soundlessly on the roof behind him. He wondered how long he had been there.
“Hey,” said Imorean. He regretted speaking immediately. His voice was flat and affectless. It didn’t sound like his own.
Gabriel took a few steps forward and sat down next to him. “He wanted to tell you. Been wanting to for a while. But not like this.”
“He only tells me things und
er his own terms,” said Imorean, straightening his legs back out.
“It’s the way he is, Imorean. He’s been a leader for many years and, for those many years, he has done things on his own terms and to his own accord. That sort of mindset isn’t something he can just turn off. He can’t change his nature.”
“Maybe.”
Gabriel shuffled his tawny and emerald wings, settling. “Do you really hate him?”
“That’s a loaded question … I hate what he did. The way he chose me. I could have had a normal, happy life in Blowing Rock, Gabriel. He took that away.”
“Life has a funny habit of placing us exactly where we need to be at the time,” said Gabriel. “Maybe this is where you’re supposed to be.”
“Thousands of miles from home and a supernatural hybrid?” Imorean snorted. “Yeah, that’s definitely what life had in store for me.”
Gabriel hummed in the back of his throat, but didn’t press the subject. Imorean was relieved. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about what he had found out. It was that he didn’t want to talk about it with angels. He wanted to talk with people, with humans, who could commiserate with him – who would understand.
“Michael has decided to leave Toddy’s verdict to Raphael.”
“He what?” asked Imorean, turning to face Gabriel.
“You heard me. Raphael will be the one to finalize Toddy’s fate. Michael said there is no way for us to know how deeply Toddy has been hurt – if at all. Raphael will be able to know for certain. He’s safe for another night.”
“Why does Michael care anyway? Toddy was supposed to die. We were all supposed to die.”
“Just because your predicted fate could have been to die does not mean that Michael is happy to oblige it,” snapped Gabriel, words sharp, tone angry. Imorean nearly flinched. “He has always fought fate where he can. He sees the choices he makes as a mercy. An extension of your lives. He’s doing this for you.”
Imorean looked away. “Michael’s motivations don’t make what he did right.”
“Doing the wrong thing for the right reasons is what Michael excels at. Do not allow this knowledge to erase all that you have done together. He trusts you. More than trusts you, if I can wager it. In fact, I’d say he –”
“Don’t say it!” snapped Imorean. “Don’t say that he cares about me, because he doesn’t. I’m a means to an end for him. We all know it. He’s lied to me and deceived me so he can meet goals. That isn’t care, Gabriel. It’s manipulation.”
“He nearly gave his life for you. I know him, Imorean. He would have given it for you. He still would. Without hesitation. Don’t forget the good he’s done as well.”
Imorean shook his head and looked away. The mountainsides were purpling, the trees bathed in late evening light.
Gabriel sighed. “If it makes you feel any better, Imorean, the endings of potential hybrids that we base our judgements from are concrete. Regardless of human free will or error, an ending will come. In life, death is the only thing that is certain. The beginning and the end are inflexible. What you do with the time between those points is your own, but everyone has an expiration date. That is unavoidable. Fate, like life, has a strange way of achieving its own ends, but once angels get involved, fate gets knocked sideways. You will never know what your life was ‘supposed’ to be, so try embracing the one you have now. This is your present, not your prediction.”
“I’m angry with him. Furious,” he said, shaking himself and standing slowly, flaring his wings to help keep his balance. He turned his back on the hills and walked up the slanted roof. “But …”
“Hate and hurt are two very different emotions,” said Gabriel, standing, too. He stretched out a wing and nudged one of Imorean’s. “Both would be understandable, but I think only one is accurate. It is up to you to determine which one.”
Imorean watched Gabriel flare his other wing and leap off the roof, coasting and circling down into the square courtyard below. Michael emerged from the inside of the castle, walking out onto the second-floor balcony. An urge rose in Imorean’s chest to apologize. In spite of this, he didn’t want Michael to feel as pained as he did. He shook his head and quashed the urge down. An apology wasn’t what was needed. Words couldn’t make right what had happened or what had been said. Something green probed against the side of his head. He closed his eyes and hesitated. In that greenness, there was turbulence. Hurt. Hesitation. Uncertainty. Things he had never thought he would feel from Michael. He swallowed. Settle on an emotion? He couldn’t. There were too many in him at the moment. He shook his head and shut Michael out. He needed time on his own. Forgiveness might come – no, it would come eventually – but he wasn’t ready to give it yet. Imorean opened his wings and leaped off the roof, sailing down into the courtyard and turning toward the tunnel where he knew he would find Toddy. Tomorrow. Tomorrow the others would be here. He took a steadying breath that he hadn’t realized he needed. Tomorrow would bring a new day.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Expectant. That was the only way Imorean could describe how the day had been. He had slept fitfully the night before, with Tadhiel shaking him awake early that morning. He had returned to Houska’s roof, pacing along the perimeter for something to do. The air was tense, waiting for something to happen. Imorean glanced at the western horizon. Would his friends arrive by wing or by human transport? He slipped on the slanted roof and just managed to catch himself before he fell. He checked his watch. Almost five in the evening. A muscle in his jaw twitched. This watch. Given to him by Michael as a replacement for his father’s. The sudden, desperate urge rose in him to tear it off, to throw it from the roof into the forest below where no one would ever find it. His fingers landed on the buckle, but he paused. This was his only watch. He didn’t have another and he didn’t want to be without one. He released the buckle and shook his head. Michael had given this watch to him and, in spite of himself, he had grown attached to it. It wasn’t something he really wanted to hurl into the woods. He sighed and shook his head, tucking his hands into his pockets, returning his eyes to the sky.
Shapes. Imorean narrowed his eyes, straining for better vision. No, they were definitely shapes on the horizon. He strained further, trying to count them. This wasn’t working. He closed his eyes and pushed his consciousness outward as hard as he could. Roxy, Baxter, Ryan, Colton, Kadia, Sariel, Raphael and Diniel. They were coming. Imorean whooped aloud and leaned over the rooftop’s edge to face the inner courtyard. A few of Raguel’s squad lingered on the balconies.
“They’re here!”
Imorean jumped as a flash of green filled the corner of his vision. He turned, feeling immediately defensive. He locked eyes with Michael and glared, wary and unsettled. Did he want Michael anywhere near him at the moment?
“No sword, I see,” said Michael. “Take one of mine and I will come with you to greet them. With all the stone in the area, summoning yours may not work.”
Imorean stayed still for a moment, then nodded. Michael pulled one of his swords and scabbards free and Imorean took them, weighing both items in his hand. They were heavier than his own and rested with more weight on his back as he buckled the scabbard’s straps around his torso. The secondary sword – complete with its hexagonal hilt and archaic tree – remained on Michael’s back.
“Okay. Lead on, Michael.”
Michael gave him a stiff nod, and flared his emerald wings. Imorean copied his motion and took off in the same instant. Cool, evening air raced under white wings. Every feather strained with the breeze. Liberation. Imorean grinned, forgetting the leaden weight between him and Michael for the moment. He closed his eyes, feeling the air around him as he drew closer to his friends. Seconds. Everything felt right for a few heartbeats. He was being reunited with his friends. He was with Michael, next to him in the air. Vortigern’s noose was tightening. Perfection settled over him like mirror glass. Hope. Just for a moment. He opened his eyes in enough time to see Michael’s dart away. Reality chilled hi
m.
Things should have been right.
But they weren’t.
They were wrong. They were more wrong than they had ever been. Imorean shook his head and pulled ahead of Michael, closing the distance between him and his friends. They were who he needed now.
Rainbow feathers glinted under the sun and Imorean swooped as Roxy surged forward, tearing ahead of the rest of the group. A grin spread across his face. Imorean could practically feel the endorphins releasing as he brushed wings with her. Marred white met rainbow perfection. He corkscrewed in the air, looping under the rest of the squad as they passed each other. He pulled up and shifted his position in the air, taking after them as they continued toward Houska. A presence settled next to him. Warm, colorful. Imorean looked over and gave Roxy a wide smile. He faltered as she hesitated, then returned it. He reached out with his mind, feeling Roxy’s warmth as his consciousness brushed her own.
“I’ve missed you.”
There was a rush of affection from her and her dark eyes sparkled as her smile deepened. Imorean relaxed for what felt like the first time in weeks and flared his wings out further as they drew toward to Houska.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Boots hadn’t fully touched the ground and white wings hadn’t folded all the way before Imorean launched himself on Roxy and pulled her into a tight hug. A stab of emotion rose in his chest.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, fighting to steady his voice.
“I know. I heard you – well, heard you in my head,” she replied, laughing. “But would you mind putting me down?”
Imorean snorted and released her, taking a step backward. Words couldn’t say how glad he was to see her. He barely heard Raguel and his team enter the courtyard to welcome Sariel and Raphael. He was much more interested in seeing his squad. His friends.
“Hey, you!”
Imorean looked up and laughed as Baxter and Colton launched at him. Baxter’s arm landed on his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. Colton grinned. Imorean couldn’t help but feel a twinge of concern. There was something embarrassed in Colton’s expression. Something that hadn’t been said. There was movement in the cluster of angels. Imorean looked away, pushing down his doubt. Surely, Colton was just tired.
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