Redeemed by Rubies (A Dance with Destiny Book 6) (19 page)

“Unseemly?” Daichi snorted. “At least those
hounds
can be counted on when the need arises. What of you, Jophiel? Where were
you
hiding while the rest of us were out—”

“Trying to save the universe?” Jophiel said, cutting Daichi’s words short.

Daichi growled, but Jophiel only snorted softly and rolled his eyes.

“Duhrias?”

The sell-sword quickly glanced toward Jenevier when she called his name.

She smiled at him. “Did you do as I asked?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Duhrias said. “I took Lala to Iga. She spent the day with her kinsmen while Munenori and I sought answers elsewhere.”

“We were… unsuccessful,” Munenori added.

“I see,” Jenevier said. “And the Shinobi?”

“They are well, Empress,” Duhrias said. “Worry not for them, Your Grace. They are extremely…” He paused.

“Capable,” Yui said, smiling.

When the beautiful ninja gave Jenevier’s hand a reassuring squeeze, she leaned over against him.

“Well, Jophiel,” Yui said, raising a single brow. “Are you waiting for us to kneel at your feet—beg for your report?”

“Hell will freeze over first,” Apollyon mumbled.

Raphael snorted out a laugh before quickly turning his head. Jenevier secretly pinched him, yet he did not turn back to face her.

Jophiel inhaled slowly. “I chose a different path, yes.” He glanced around the table. “I sought out the Nephilim. If he is not the cause of the coming darkness, he definitely knows more than we do.”

“Is that so?” Raphael said. “And just where all did you
seek
that extinct creature?”

“I searched the whole of Jinn,” Jophiel said. “Every last inch of it.”

“Let me guess,” Yui said, leaning forward. “You found him not. Not even the faintest scent.”

Jophiel glared at the smiling Emperor.

Yui turned toward Jenevier. “Why do you suppose that is, Milady? Do you have any idea why your constantly smirking brother over there, could find neither hide nor hair of your ever-vigilant stalker?”

“Because
I
wasn’t here,” Jenevier softly said.

“Yes.” Yui looked back to Jophiel. “And the one thing we know about the Nephilim—the only thing—is that he goes where
she
goes… always.”

Raphael snorted out a chuckle. “What has gotten into
you
, little ninja? Normally you are bowing your head—refilling your lovely wife’s empty teacup.” He smiled. “I like this new side of our fair young Emperor.”

“Then that makes
one
of us,” Apollyon said, under his breath.

Yui smiled with only one corner of his closed lips. Jenevier blushed.

“So, Madam Empress,” Gabriel said kindly. “That would leave only you. Where is it you chose to search for answers, Milady?”

“I went back to Ashgard.”

“Of course you did,” Tenshi grumbled.

Jenevier ignored him as she continued, “I went to the palace in Wrothdem.”

“By yourself?” Uriel asked.

“No. Nilakanta was with me.”

“So… by yourself,” Jophiel said.

Munenori chuckled. “Her blue-scaled partner could best us all. Never doubt that.”

Jenevier smiled at her Senpai’s sweet, matter-of-fact words.

“Yes, ‘tis true.” She nodded. “The ancient Mangladune forest is now marked by a scorched swath—absent trees entirely.”

“Why?” Worry suddenly furrowed Tenshi’s brow. “What happened, Mama?”

Jenevier sighed. “I snapped—went all
Death Angel
… right there in front of everyone.” Tears burned the backs of her eyes. “Nilakanta felt it… of course he did. He charged into the forest. By the time he reached my side, desolation lay in his wake. Yet… he wasn’t the only creature to fell a few noble trees that day. I, too, left my mark within the Elven forest.”

Jophiel chuckled. “Are you exaggerating? Or did you truly turn into my favorite little Grim Reaper?”

Jenevier glanced toward him, but didn’t speak.

“Oh, I wish I would have been there,” Jophiel said through a smile. “I
love
when you do that—lose all reason and become single-minded. Never are you more glorious than when you are Death, Milady.”

“That’ll do, Jophiel,” Uriel mumbled, glancing toward her angelic blue-haired son. “Your inappropriate admiration is well known by us all. If you wish to remain fair and unscarred, you would do well to simply shut it.”

“Did you do thus in front of humans, in front of innocents?” Jophiel’s golden eyes were sparkling wildly. “Oh, I pray you did. Tell me. What happened? Did they faint? Go blind? Cease breathing entirely? Fill in the blanks, little sister.”

“You tread on the very edge of the line, don’t you, Brother?” Raphael said, before turning to Jenevier. “Why, baby sis?” He took her hand. “What was the cause of your uncontrollable rage?”

Jophiel smiled, devilishly. “Did you enjoy a bit more of that incredible Elvish
joining
you were going on about?”

“…Pervert,” Duhrias mumbled under his breath.

Tenshi slammed his hands down atop the table. “By the gods! I will kill that pointy-eared King by my own hand.”

“Enough, Tenshi.” She met his enraged gaze. “I didn’t even see Dofarel. That’s not why I went. And don’t let that nearly wicked Angel over there…” She motioned toward the still smiling Jophiel. “…get you so worked up. That’s what he’s trying to do. You’re giving him what he wants.”

“Then why, tiny Angel?” Raphael whispered. “Why did you go there, and who was it you spoke with?” He squeezed her hand. “And what ignited your delicious fire, Milady?”

“Ugh!” Jenevier sighed loudly. “It seems I fan flames… even when I am dousing them.”

Jophiel chuckled. Jenevier cut her eyes toward him, then just shook her head.

“I went back to Ashgard to see the King—Alastyn.” She glanced toward Tenshi and he smiled at her. “I went back partly to seek his guidance, and partly because… I let myself get too upset—all jumbled up inside.”

“…Hurt,” Tenshi whispered.

Jenevier nodded. “I don’t know. I just… felt like going back home, I guess.”

“You wished to return to a simpler time,” Gabriel said softly. “You sought peace and comfort from the familiar—your old friends, your old home… back before all of
this
.” He waved his hand to encompass everyone around the council table.

“Yeah… maybe,” she whispered. “But… it’s not the same.”

“Of course it’s not,” Uriel said. “You may be able to
physically
go back home. But you cannot turn back time, little one.”

“…Yeah.” She nodded. “Anyway… I knew there was a vast library at the palace. I had seen it.”

“And the fact Alastyn would be there was a plus as well. Huh, Mama?”

Jenevier looked to her smiling son. She blushed.

“Is he well?” Tenshi asked softly.

“Yes.” She nodded again. “Quite well. He Amalgamated with Izadori, or whatever. He looks good. He was studying the ancient scrolls when I got there. Alas, the library contained not a single word concerning Nephilim.”

“Ha, Nephilim.” Jophiel chuckled. “See, Naga? Great minds
do
think alike. Huh, little sis?”

Jenevier smiled, but did not meet his teasing gaze.

“Okay, so… that’s why you went,” Apollyon said. “Now, what stirred your rage?”

“Alastyn knew nothing of Nephilim, ‘tis true.” She glanced toward Duhrias. “But he was terribly excited to tell me about a different secret he had uncovered—Urimtheim.”

Duhrias smiled. “So, the Olden found the cave, did he?”

Jenevier nodded.

“And why in the world would you have need of Urimtheim?” Uriel asked. “How do you even know of it?”

“The River Spirit showed me.” She looked back toward him as she spoke. “It’s how I got Duhrias and Cherie here on Jinn. And how I found my little Taka, too.” Jenevier smiled when the little Dragon Pixie began twittering at the sound of his name. “Even though I knew they were some kind of Otherworldly Spirits, I didn’t know if they could travel via the clouds. I didn’t want to chance it. So… we walked here.”

Jenevier blushed when Munenori chuckled.

“And there are those among us who say you are not wise.”

“Gratitude, Senpai.” She crinkled her nose up at him, then continued, “When Alastyn and I neared the cave in Mangladune, the stones were already glowing.”

“What?” Apollyon said. “Another Angel was there?”

“That’s what I thought… at first,” she whispered. “When I had first returned to Ashgard, a few days ago—seeking Dofarel’s wisdom—I came upon a rather unusual Elf… living on his own in the middle of the forest. In truth…” she mumbled. “…he wasn’t very Elvish at all. I would not have named him thus, were it not for his scent. And even
that
was a questionable thing to me. I smelled Elf on him, yes… but there was an oddly familiar strangeness mingled with it.”

“What do you mean, he wasn’t very Elvish?” Daichi asked.

“Just that.” She shrugged her shoulders. “He was much stouter built—had broad shoulders and long raven hair. Like I said, were it not for his scent, I would not have named him thus.”

“Let me guess,” Jophiel said, sneering. “He took one look at you and fell head-over-heels in love.”

Jenevier snorted. “Quite the opposite. He tried to kill me. Twice, no less.”

“Why, Mama?”

“I don’t know, Tenshi. Perhaps I startled him. He was an intentional hermit, after all. From the first glimpse of me, he wanted me gone.”

“Oh, let
me
guess this one,” Raphael said. “Your morbid curiosity caused your stubbornness to take root.”

“My curiosity is not morbid.”

Jenevier blushed when every single person gathered around that table began to laugh.

She waited until they had quieted back down. “Not to drag this out any further than it needs to be.” She sighed. “He was scarred—deformed since birth. The Elves could not heal him, even named him Baytac.”

“…Monster,” Raphael whispered.

Jenevier nodded.

“Only the most treacherous darkness can cause harm even an Elf cannot heal,” Apollyon said.

“Yes,” Jenevier whispered. “Baytac said his mother was forcefully impregnated when your war spread over Ashgard.” She met Apollyon’s sapphire gaze. “He thought he was sired by a demon.”

Apollyon held her troubled gaze. “But he was mistaken, wasn’t he?”

Jenevier nodded. “When I saw the Urimtheim glow at his presence… I knew his father was no demon.”

“What did you do, Mama?”

She looked then to her son. “I licked him.”

“So…” Munenori said. “I can think of only one dark Angel who could cause you to lose control like that.”

Tears filled Jenevier’s eyes, yet she did not speak.

“Who did you taste within him, Naga?” Yui softly asked.

“Ahriman,” Tenshi hissed.

“Wait,” Jophiel said. “But I thought… Naga, when last we spoke—”

“There is a fine line between love and hate, Brother,” Munenori said. “Naga crossed it when her senses returned… when his spell was broken and the magic dissipated.”

“As strong as was the love…” Jophiel whispered. “…even more so is the hate.”

“Yes.” Jenevier wiped a single tear from her cheek. “A thousand times more so.”

“Apollyon.” Uriel waited until his fallen brother met his gaze. “Does the soul-eater know this? Does he know how Naga now feels?”

Apollyon looked back to Jenevier. “No, he does not.”

Chapter 12

Jenevier

(ZHEN-ah-veer)

When the gentle breeze blew past, Jenevier caught his unmistakably divine scent. She inhaled deeply, smiling as she did.

“Aye, Lass. How are ye?”

“Better now, Vittorio.”

She leaned against him as he sat down beside her atop the large stone. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head.

“What were ye smiling aboot, Lass?”

“Your scent.” She inhaled again. “Out of every creature I have ever crossed paths with,
you
smell the most delicious. It makes my mouth water. I could devour you whole.”

“Cut it oot, my wee darlin’. It takes every ounce of strength I possess just tae keep from gobbling ye up on the spot. Dunnae say such things, Lass. I am weak where ye are concerned.”

Jenevier chuckled. “Then we remain of like-mind, Brother.”

“I’ve warned ye aboot calling me brother. Do thus again, an’ I’ll have tae punish ye.”

“Stop teasing me, Vittorio.” She crushed another tiny lavender bloom between her fingers. “You know, once we get started… I never want to stop.”

“Aye, an’ that’s my favorite part.” He yanked on her sapphire curl. “What are ye doing, sitting oot here in the middle of this field, all alone?”

“…Thinking.”

“Aye.” He nodded. “I heard aboot the coming darkness. Seems ye dinnae even cause it… this time.”

“Yeah… seems that way.” She snapped off another stem of lavender. “To be completely honest with you, Vittorio, I don’t even sense it. Everything feels normal to me. If it wasn’t for Vindicus mentioning the thinning of the veils, I wouldn’t have a clue.”

“Yer Vindicus, huh?”

“Him, yes… and that damn Nephilim—Rixx.”

“Nephilim? I’ve heard of them, aye. Yet, I’ve nae seen one with my own eyes.”

“Apparently they are extinct.” She snorted softly. “At least that’s what the
blessed ones
told me.”

Vittorio chuckled. “Archs have great power, Lass. They wouldnae lie tae ye. But I know what ye mean. They can get under yer skin pretty quick.”

“Tell me about it.” Jenevier tossed the destroyed stem to the side as she quickly snapped off yet another one. “Under your skin
and
on your nerves… in a hurry.”

“Are ye sure ye met a Nephilim?”

“No. That’s just what he told me he was. Maza Vespar Rixx—the last Nephilim.”

Vittorio chuckled at the way she was apparently trying to imitate the man’s voice. He gently tucked a curl back behind her ear.

“Tell me, Lass. What did the creature look like?”

“Like a man.” She turned to face Vittorio then. “Just a man. No wings. No claws. Not even a sword.”

“Just a man, aye?”

“Well, not a
normal
man, no. He had an unsettling look about him. Kind of like… fire and ice.”

“What do ye mean?”

“His hair and his eyes.” She gazed off into the distance, remembering every little detail about the man. “His skin was fair. He had on a waistcoat—grey-striped, I think. His shoes were a shiny black and his trousers matched the long, fitted jacket that came down to his calves. He looked like a proper gentlemen, I guess you could say. Save for the fact he was floating in midair… and those eyes.” She shuddered. “His hair had a hard part—one side as red as flame, the other… white as the winter snows.”

“An’ his eyes?”

“The same—one red, one grey… fire and ice.”

Vittorio absently plucked some lavender and began crushing the tiny, individual blooms as well. “Hmm… Sounds a bit like Jago, does it nae?”

Jenevier blinked twice, then dropped her lavender. “By all that’s holy…
that
is what was so familiar about him—Jago.” She chuckled. “I haven’t thought of that worthless old Angel in ages.”

“Aye, perhaps Rixx is his spawn.”

“Could be.” She furrowed her brow. “I mean, that’s what they were doing on Pretoria—sacrificing women and birthing offspring.” She turned to Vittorio. “But that couldn’t be right. Could it? If Jago was intent on making babies, there should be tons of them around. How could Rixx be the only one? And… he said he was eons old.”

“I cannae answer that, Lass. But it’s nae an easy thing—bringing a half-Angel intae the world through a woman. Nae. Even bringing a half-Guardian intae the world is nigh impossible… for the mother. Most dunnae live through it. Often, the wee bairn takes its last breath with its mum.” He pulled her a bit closer. “Such was nearly the case with ye, Lass.”

“And with Finnean’s mother as well,” she whispered.

“Aye… I was thinking the same thing.” He sighed, then shook his head. “Nae… it’s nae an easy thing tae do… for the mum.”

They sat in silence, holding one another, lost in the past.

“I’m gonna ask Vindicus if he will question Jago,” she finally whispered. “Maybe he can
torture
the information out of that vile, fallen creature.”

“Do ye believe Jago tae be in hell?”

Jenevier furrowed her brow. “Why wouldn’t he be? That’s where I sent him.”

Vittorio chuckled. “What are ye talking aboot, Lass? That’s nae yer decision. Ye may get tae reap their bloody souls, but ye dunnae get tae decide where they go. Father sends them on where
He
wishes them tae be.”

Jenevier blushed. “Well… where else would a fallen Angel go?”

“I cannae say. Whatever Otherworld they were meant tae go tae. Now, come here, my wee darlin’.” He pulled her onto his lap. “I stopped by tae help ye forget aboot the coming darkness, nae wallow in it.”

Jenevier wrapped her arms around his neck and looked up at him. “You want to take my mind off my worries?”

“Aye, that I do.”

“Then tell me a story, Vittorio. A love story. Tell me about Finnean’s mother.”

“Aye, Lass. That’s a hard tale tae tell.”

“Then don’t.” She rested her head against his chest. “The last thing I want to do is cause you more pain.”

“I told ye I’d tell ye the whole of it… when the time was right.”

“That you did,” she whispered, hugging him tighter.

“Well, now.” He smiled. “Today is a lovely day, an’ I am blessed with even lovelier company.”

Jenevier giggled when he yanked on one of her curls.

“Aye… this is a good day tae remember love.” He gently kissed the top of her head again. “I wish tae share the memories of my heart, Lass… only with ye.”

Jenevier remained perfectly still as the handsome Guardian’s haunted words wove a tragically beautiful picture through her mind…

“It was in the spring.” Vittorio started out in a low voice. “I’ll nae forget it. She was sitting by a wee pond. The gentle breeze was tossing aboot wisps of her lovely flaxen tresses. Aye, but she was too busy collecting feathers tae worry much aboot her hair.”

“Feathers?”

“Aye. She was filling a basket with stray swan feathers sprinkled aboot the edge of that pond. The sun was dancing across the ripples, sporadically lighting up her fair face. She was a beauty. Just a wee whip of a thing—pale skin, fair hair, sky blue eyes… an’ a smile that could melt a demon’s heart. She looked more like a doll than a woman. Rarest creature I’d ever seen.” Vittorio chuckled softly. “I remember how mad Vareilious got when
I
was the Guardian chosen for this particular summons. He threw one hell of a fit, he did. Acted like a spoiled wee lad for days over it.”

Jenevier smiled. “I can see the pouty look on his face now—cheeks all red, teeth grinding together. Did he ball his hands into fists?”

“Aye, an’ stomped around like a miserable old troll.”

Jenevier giggled. “Well,
I
know the reason he wasn’t chosen.”

“An’ why’s that, Lass?”

“Because Finnean’s mother was a delicate woman—shy and elegant… fragile. She would have never relented to a massive warrior like Vareilious, all rough and coarse. She needed a true gentleman. One with a tender touch.” She glanced up at him. “And a mesmerizing smile.”

Vittorio blushed.

“You made my heart skip… the very first time I laid eyes on you,” she whispered.

“Mine as well, Lass. It pained me, but I knew ye were meant for my captain.” He chuckled softly. “Aye, when I saw ye stand up tae Vareilious an’ Valen at the gate, when I saw ye defiantly hold yer ground with Valadrog… I was in awe of ye. Then… ye smiled. Aye, Lass.” Tears filled his lovely blue eyes. “It was like gazing intae heaven itself. Ye stole my heart, then an’ there.”

“You are my favorite person in the whole universe, Vittorio. I love you.”

“An’ I love ye more, wee rabbit.” He tapped the tip of her nose and smiled. “Now… let that be enough for today. I’ll tell ye the rest another time. I came here tae comfort ye. Let us spend a few quiet hours alone… minus the ghosts of our past.”

“As you wish, Vittorio.” Jenevier nuzzled against his chest.

He gently tightened his embrace, resting his cheek atop her head.

“What was her name?” she whispered.

Vittorio smiled softly. “Her name was Monae. Two syllables. The first—low an’ melodic. The second… as gentle as a whisper across yer skin.”

“…Monae,” Jenevier whispered. “It is beautiful.”

“Aye, it is… an’ she was as well.”

She squeezed him, burying her face against his soft tunic. “I love you so much… it is physically painful.”

“I know, Lass,” he whispered. “Pain akin tae Shabriri ripping my wings off… but it’s deep inside my chest.”

“Yes… like that.” Jenevier bit her lip, nodding softly. “Sometimes at night, when everyone else is asleep… I cry for you. Big, ugly, painful tears.”

He squeezed her tighter. “I do the same thing, my wee darlin’. The exact same thing.”

“If only one person in this universe could be happy, I’d want it to be you.”

Vittorio couldn’t speak, couldn’t answer her without his voice cracking.

“I’ve been back to Val Hal a few times over the years,” she whispered softly. “Visiting my father’s people. They are majestic, are they not?”

“Aye, the rarest of all the layers.”

Jenevier smiled. “Did you know that after I left… Father took a bride and had a child?”

Vittorio nodded. “Aye. Named her Celeste, he did.”

“I went back there not too awful long ago.”

“For Gráda’s funeral?”

She nodded, then sniffed. “He was the last of my brethren there.”

“Aye, but Brodder’s blood lives on.”

“Yes, it does…” She paused. “I met Princess Celeste’s daughter.”

“Aye. Did ye now?”

“Have you seen her?”

“Aye. I visit Val Hal quite often.” He sort of glanced away. “She is lovely indeed.”

Jenevier smiled. “The rarest I’ve ever seen.”

“…Aye.”

“Will you do me a favor, Vittorio?”

“Anything, Lass. Just name it.”

“Will you always see to them for me?”

“Who? Queen Celeste an’ her daughter?”

“Princess Jenevier.” She smiled. “Did you know they named her Jenevier—after me?”

“Aye. I knew.”

“So… will you do it? Will you watch over Brodder’s daughter and granddaughter?”

Vittorio sighed. “Yer trying tae get rid of me.”

“No. I would never do that.” Jenevier sat up and looked him in the eye. “Had I abandoned my wings… that would have been my sister and my niece. I want them to have their own Guardian. My most
perfect
Guardian.”

“Aye, so ye
are
trying tae get rid of me.”

“Don’t act all innocent.” She playfully punched his shoulder. “I saw your cheeks flame up when I mentioned her.”

“Who?”

“Pffts… drop the act, Brother. If I had to guess, I’d say Princess Jenevier has been on your mind for a while now.”

Vittorio didn’t answer.

“Will you do it? Will you get closer to my kin?”

“Aye. I will.” Tears filled his lovely eyes. “I will always love ye, Lass. Nae forget that.”

Jenevier smiled. “And I will always love you more.” She kissed his cheek and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Make her happy, Brother. Make her smile like you always have me. Bless her with all the magic I so foolishly missed out on.”

Vittorio didn’t speak, he just held her tightly… as they both cried.

*****

After Vittorio had kissed her farewell, Jenevier had spent nearly an hour curled up atop that rock, crying out the last of her broken heart. She wanted him to be happy, wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything else… but that had been the hardest thing she had ever done. Letting Vittorio go, it ranked right up there with kissing Varick’s cold, lifeless lips.