Beloved Purgatory (Fallen Angels, Book 2) (38 page)

His silver hands curled into fists. "It doesn't
matter what she wants. Her body calls for the Holy Spirit. It is
inevitable."

"You really know nothing about women, Sariel,"
Forneus muttered.

I think I agreed with Forneus on that one. No,
wait--was Forneus actually insinuating that
he
knew
something about women?

Forneus laughed. "Thank you for rescuing her from
Lucifer, but from now on I shall be her escort."

His raw hand emerged from what was left of the inside
pocket of his jacket. Shamsiel and Sariel went still, then leaped
forward.

It was too late. The drawstring on the pouch had
already been pulled. It slipped from his fingers, and the
Rukah-Hayim
scattered onto the floor.

Violet smoke filled the air. I coughed and stumbled
back. It stung to open my eyes. It was too thick--too hard to
breathe. Strange sounds echoed throughout the cave. Purple phantoms
emerged from the smoke, then walked passed me--copies of Forneus
with glowing eyes and flawless skin.

Then, a slimy skeleton latched onto my arm.

I screamed and clocked it in the temple.

"Jesus Christ," Forneus yelled.

That's right. He hadn't healed yet. Which meant I'd
just punched a decrepit corpse. "Oh God, oh my God, I'm so sorry, I
thought--"

"Never mind. We have to go," he spat. I swallowed my
nausea as he readjusted his grip on my wrist.

Wait a second, was he crazy? "Why would I go anywhere
with you? You got me into this mess--"

"I didn't have a choice. I promised Lucifer a long
time ago that I'd bring you to him if I found you. I showed you to
them so they'd save you--look, we don't have time for this. My
illusion will only keep them busy for so long. We have to find
Camael and Azazel."

He wanted to take me to them? That made no sense.
Azazel would rip him apart.

But, if Forneus had truly promised Lucifer he would
bring me to Hell, he'd have to do it even if he didn't want to. At
the same time, he'd promised Azazel that he wouldn't take me to
Hell. That meant that in order to satisfy both promises, he'd have
to get someone else to actually bring me to Lucifer--someone like
March--and since he couldn't tell him where to pick me up, he'd
have to bring me to a place such as Purgatory and take off my
protective amulet so that the other devils would be alerted of my
presence.

Still, that didn't explain why he'd invited Shamsiel
and Sariel to Halloween...unless he knew, somehow, that he'd need
help getting me and himself out of Hell. But even then, how had the
two recognized me, and if they knew what I was, why hadn't they
just taken me then?

My head hurt.

Forneus dragged me forward. He kept one hand in front
of us, face-up. A purple light glowed from the center of his palm.
"Stay close. The caves of Purgatory are a maze. Portals can only be
created in certain areas, and in most places no one, including me,
will be able to find you if you get lost, no matter how loud you
cry out. We need to get to an area where you can call Camael and I
can create a portal back to earth."

"And how far away is the next area?"

His jaw tightened. He quickened his pace.

That close, huh?

The smoke began to dissipate. We moved faster with
only his faint light guiding us. I feared Shamsiel or Sariel were
right behind us, but whenever I turned my head I just saw darkness.
I kept falling over onto him, which I felt really bad about.
Forneus was starting to heal, but it wasn't happening very quickly,
and each wound I gave him made that process go even slower. Still,
he didn't scream at me, though that was probably because he was
trying to conserve his strength.

Forneus let me go ahead because it was more important
for me to make it out than him--his words, not mine. I wasn't a
fast runner. I'd never been able to run below a nine minute mile.
The smoke still clung to my shirt and hair, and that intoxicating
scent made me feel as if I were swimming through the cave.

Forneus put his hands on my back and pushed. "Christ
you're slow if even I can catch up with you in this shape."

Those words stung. Skin had only grown back on one of
his feet, he barely had muscle tissue on his rib cage, and one of
his intestines flapped around his hips like a chains dangling out
of a stylish guy's baggy jeans. Well, if such chains looked like
bloody, miniature sausage links--but that wasn't the point. The
point was that there should have been no way in Hell devil-zombie
should have been able to catch up with me.

No, make that passing me. "Come on! Only 100 more
feet! Then you can call your angel"

"100 feet!" I wailed. "That's like a mile, isn't
it?"

Forneus stopped and glared at me. "No, it's not 'like
a mile.' Not even close. There are 5,280 feet in a mile."

"So like a quarter mile, or something?" That didn't
sound too bad. I could do one of those in less than two
minutes...maybe.

He cringed. "Just shut up and run."

I did. My lungs were on fire. My mouth was dry. My
palms sweat and blood was running into my eyes from where I'd
fallen. Can't stop. I had to keep going. Even if my muscles gave
out. Even if I died getting there.

"Now!" Forneus called out.

I took a deep breath and screamed: "Camael!"

A burst of golden light appeared in the infinite,
bland darkness of the cave. A ray of hope. I dashed forward.
Forneus yelled something I didn't hear. It didn't matter, anyway.
We were saved. They'd come for me. So I jumped right into the
angel's arms.

The arms of the wrong angel.

Chapter 20

"Idiot!" Forneus yelled.

I winced. Even I had to admit this wasn't my greatest
moment. But could you really blame me? Shamsiel glowed just like
Camael. Still, there was one big difference between the two. The
golden angel wore significantly fewer clothes.

He held my cheek to his chest with an iron grip. I
tried to scream, but all I got when I parted my lips was a mouth
full of his pecks, courtesy of his bare chest. I didn't dare look
down. I whimpered, not knowing whether I should leave my mouth open
or shut it and risk chomping on them.

My teeth chattered, causing me to gnaw on his
tasteless, hard flesh.
Please let go
, I begged silently.

Something growled behind me. "Let go of her."

Shamsiel tightened his grip.

"Let go," it repeated in an even more threatening
tone.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I
recognized that terrifying, low sound.

"Azazel. Camael." Sariel stood beside me and the
golden angel. His posture reflected his calm tone. Just barely, I
could make out the slow rise and fall of his chest.

"I said let go!"

The cave trembled and groaned as rocks cascaded to
the ground. Instinctively, I shuddered. The golden angel's grip
remained unresponsive. I guess he either didn't notice my fear, or
didn't care.

"Stop it," Sariel chided softly. "She's not for you.
She's not for any demon, or devil, or angel. She was made for
God."

The demon had stepped forward. I couldn't see
anything of him--just his soft, silver light.
Stop talking
,
I begged silently. If he did, Oz would realize what I was. And
then...I didn't want to think about it. I couldn't think of a
deeper betrayal. The fact that I wasn't even aware of it just made
it worse, somehow. Oz would hate me if he knew.

But maybe that was Sariel's plan.

"She couldn't have been made for God. She was born
without a spirit. He condemned her." The desperation in his voice
shattered me. He believed in me so much. It wasn't something he'd
had to think about. He'd embraced those beautiful, frightening
feelings the moment they'd emerged.

All that meant now was that he couldn't even
comprehend how unworthy I was of such devotion--or, perhaps, he
simply never wanted to know.

I shut my eyes. "Stop it. Don't say anything."
Please
.

Footsteps crunched against the rocky floor. "Can you
see how much your ignorance hurts her, Azazel?" Sariel continued
smoothly. "She will suffer until you acknowledge what she is, and
she will suffer after."

"What the Hell are you talking about?"

"I think you know, brother. Why would a human without
a soul appear after so many years? She isn't one of the Nephilim.
Her brother, who has a spirit but no soul, was taken by the
angels."

Azazel panted. "None of that matters to me."

"It should. How can you claim to love something you
don't know?" Something cool grabbed my wrist--a silver hand. Sariel
pulled me from Shamsiel's hot embrace into his shadow. "Look at
him, Devi."

I don't want to
.

"That beast is your beloved, isn't it? He's hurt. The
creatures of Hell tore up his limbs, and they haven't healed fully
yet."

A knot of anxiety formed in my chest.
Stop
it
.

Of course, Sariel didn't. "He sustained those
injuries trying to find you--"

"Leave her alone!"

My pulse spiked. Azazel's raw voice ripped through me
and, before I could stop myself, I glanced up.

He stood next to Camael. Both were bathed in heavenly
light, but for the first time my eyes were drawn to Azazel, not the
angel.

Green light oozed off his shoulders. His eyes already
resembled a dragon's more than a man's--wild, dark,
impenetrable--and afraid.

My grandmother had once had a cat that rarely left
her bedroom, and had never been outside the house. When my
grandmother died, we took the cat. We'd lived happily together for
five years, but the process of moving her from my grandmother's
house to ours had haunted me for months.

Until then, the only memories I had of Stitches were
of her curling up to sleep next to my thigh and the gentle
vibrations in her throat when she purred as I scratched under her
chin.

When we'd removed her from my grandma's house, she'd
gone wild. I'd tried to explain to her: Grandma isn't here anymore.
You're coming home with us. You love us. Of course she hadn't
understood, but it was more than that--it was like she didn't even
seem to recognize us anymore--like she'd lost her sight. She clawed
at whatever was in front of her, regardless of whether it was our
hands or the air. Her piercing, insistent wails never stopped. Her
wide eyes were all the way open, void of anything but fear.

Azazel looked like that--a trapped animal that would
lash out at anything that got too close, even if it was someone he
loved.

"Don't stop looking at him," Sariel whispered, and I
realized something. He wanted me to look into Azazel's eyes when
Azazel discovered the truth. He wanted to watch Azazel's love for
me die. He wanted to see my face when it did.

Sariel's calm voice sliced through my thoughts. "You
love her because she's beautiful. Any demon can see that. But do
you think you could love what is horrific about her, too? Do you
think you could love her, not in spite of those things, but because
they are an intrinsic part of who she is?"

"You're making no sense," he growled.

Sariel ran his fingers down my shoulders. His tender
touch became even subtler when he felt me flinch. "Then let me
clear things up for you. This mortal chest contains the Original
Soul. God sent her to destroy all of us, and Himself."

For a moment, I could only hear a
drip, drip,
drip
somewhere in the distance.

"I don't understand," Azazel whispered. It sounded
like denial. The tattoos on his skin spread over it like daggers,
concentrating into hard points.
Those are scales
, I
realized.
He's turning into the dragon. His body changed
unconsciously to prepare for attack
.

Forneus' voice came from somewhere across the room,
so far from us that I couldn't see him. "She's the
Nephesh-Tohuw
."

"No, you're wrong." Azazel's voice was squished. Of
course. It must have been hard to speak as a dragon, and his throat
looked like malachite armor.

Forneus looked away. "She is. I'm sorry."

Azazel whipped around and stomped. Shards of rock
flew into the air. "You told me it wasn't a person. You had me
searching in caves for an ounce of dust--"

"I believed that's what it was," Forneus interrupted,
tone just as harsh. "He wanted us to interpret it this way to hide
the truth, or perhaps he didn't even know it himself. Either way,
when I learned her brother had a spirit, I knew it was her. It was
the only answer that made sense. I'm just embarrassed for not
realizing it immediately, as Sariel did."

"You lie," Azazel spat.

"I'm sorry, Azazel," Forneus replied softly.

"Neither of them lied," Sariel cut in. "The
Nephesh-Tohuw
isn't human, it's just in a human container.
Why are you so upset, Azazel? Is it because you can't bring
yourself to love her anymore, or is it something even more
troubling? Do you love her as much as you did before, even though
you know you should not?"

"Shut up," Azazel hissed.

"Brother, you have already devoted yourself to the
one who will end all things. Now stand beside me and embrace your
fate. You've never beaten me. Even the last time we faced-off, you
lost."

Azazel winced.

My head pounded. Face-off? Was he talking about
Candy Land
? Was he actually flaunting the fact that he'd won
that cheesy children's game like it was something to be proud of?
Why wasn't Azazel making some snarky comment about that? Instead,
he looked like he'd just been punched in the face.

I couldn't take it anymore. "Stop it!" I yelled,
trying to yank my hand from his grip. "I'm not going to do those
things. I have a choice."

Camael inhaled deeply. The room went silent as white,
purifying fire gathered around his shoulders. Unlike Shamsiel's
flames, I felt no heat from them. "You've been warned Sariel. Let
her go."