Sins of the Lost

by Linda Poitevin

  It took several seconds for Mika’el’s intent to sink in. Several more to force a swallow in a throat that had gone as dry as their surroundings. Of all the Archangel might have divulged, this would have been what Aramael least expected. Watching Alex on his own, in secret, had been one thing. He’d been careful not to let himself get too close. But what Mika’el suggested—watching her with Heaven’s permission? Its blessing? That was something entirely different.

  He stared toward the Hellfire. He was an Archangel now. He couldn’t afford to give in to the baser instincts. Not anymore. Not again.

  “You know I still have feelings for her,” he said at last, feeling duty-bound to tell the other warrior.

  “I suspected as much, yes.”

  Aramael’s fingers curled around his sword hilt. “Then you’ve chosen me because … ?”

  “Two reasons. First, because without a Guardian to help you, you’ll need to track her on a physical level. Your experience as a Power means you’ll fit into the human realm better than the others. And second, because you do still have feelings for her. We need more than just a watcher, Aramael. If it becomes necessary, we need her protected. The others would stand in Samael’s way, but …” Mika’el’s voice trailed off.

  “But they wouldn’t die for her as I would,” Aramael finished. He scuffed the toe of one boot against the hardened soil, remembering Raphael’s accusations. “And you trust me to do this.”

  “I have no choice.”

  Well. That had been nothing if not blunt.

  “May I at least know why I’m being asked to play sacrificial lamb?”

  Again.

  “We need her help. With Seth.”

  Slack-jawed, Aramael stared at him. “You have got to be kidding me. You want me to protect the woman to whom I am soulmated so she can help you with the one she chose over me? Even if I wanted to—”

  “The One is leaving us.”

  Aramael stared at him. He snapped his mouth closed. “I don’t understand. Leaving us how?”

  “Permanently.”

  “She can’t leave. She’s the Creator, the All. Heaven cannot survive without her.”

  “And the world can no longer survive with Lucifer. It’s the only way she can stop him.” The tightness in Mika’el’s voice told how much the words cost. “She needs to bind with him, to become what she was before she created him from herself. Seth stands in the way. Giving up his power created an imbalance that’s ripping the mortal world apart. Controlling it is making her weak. We need him to take back what he gave up.”

  Take back … Despite the gravity of the situation, Aramael’s heart leapt beneath his ribs. “You mean become immortal again?”

  Mika’el glowered at him. “Don’t even think of going there. Regardless of what happens with Seth, the Naphil remains out of your reach, is that clear? This isn’t about you—or her, for that matter. It’s about honoring the One’s wishes.”

  “I should think it would be about saving the One rather than honoring her wish to die.”

  The other Archangel’s eyes darkened with an anguish that lanced through to Aramael’s own core, making him wish he could retract his words. His cruelty. None in all of Heaven had been more loyal to the One; none would do more for her than the Archangel Mika’el. To suggest otherwise verged on blasphemy.

  “I spoke out of turn—” he began.

  Mika’el cut him off. “I have been over this a hundred thousand times,” he said quietly, “and every time, I reach the same conclusion as our Creator has. There is no other way to do this. No way to both stop Lucifer and save her.”

  “But how in Hell can we survive without someone to—?” Aramael stopped. A cold knot formed deep in his gut. “Not Seth.”

  Mika’el said nothing. He didn’t have to.

  Aramael tested the idea. The Appointed, who had already abdicated his role twice, returning to Heaven, taking over from his mother, ruling over all of Creation. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t imagine it. The knot drew tighter.

  Bloody Hell, if Seth was the best they could come up with …

  He looked back to Mika’el.

  “Protect the woman,” the other Archangel said. “However you must.”

  Chapter 17

  Alex placed the dishes in the sink and then stood, hands braced against the counter. She stared at her reflection in the darkened window, blocking out the voices of Seth and her sister and niece in the dining room behind her—if the miniscule apartment cubbyhole could be called such. She should be pleased with Seth’s sudden display of interest in something other than her. Should be thrilled with the first attempt he’d made to fit in with her life instead of insisting she remake it to suit him. He’d gone to a lot of trouble, surprising her by inviting Jen and Nina, making dinner …

  And all she wanted was for her only family to leave.

  Because all she’d been able to think about was the same thing that had eaten at her all day. Michael’s visit. His words.

  “We need him to take it back.”

  Take back the power that had been the price of his choice to be with her. That had caused the implosion of the alley in which they’d stood when he had given it up. That had connected him to the divine and made him the pawn in some bitter, cosmic game of chess played by his parents.

  How could Michael think for an instant that she would help convince Seth to do such a thing? And why would he ask?

  Damn, she wished she’d let him at least state his reasons.

  “Are you clearing the table or hiding?” her sister’s voice intruded. Alex opened her eyes to Jen’s reflection beside her own in the window, the smile on her sister’s lips at odds with the furrow between her brows.

  “Long day,” Alex said. “Sorry.”

  “Long many days.”

  While Jen’s words were neutral enough, her voice held an underlying accusation. A guilty part of Alex wondered again when her family might leave.

  She forced a smile. “I know I should have called, but things are a little chaotic at the moment.”

  “Which I might know if you’d bothered returning any of my two dozen voice messages.” Jen scraped the remains of dinner from a plate into the garbage. She rinsed the dish and placed it in the dishwasher.

  A quick glance into the dining room told Alex that Seth and Nina had retreated to the living room, out of earshot. She folded her arms and settled back against the counter, waiting for the lecture. Jen wouldn’t rest until she’d had her say.

  “I’m worried about you, Alex.” Another plate went into the dishwasher, this one with a little more force behind it. “Ever since everything before—the killer, Nina, the fire—you just haven’t been the same. I’d hoped you’d make progress with Dr. Bell’s help, but—”

  “Bell can’t change what’s happened.”

  “It’s not about changing what’s happened, it’s about coping with it. And you didn’t give him a chance.”

  “What chance? If I told him half of what’s going on in my life right now, he’d have me in a straitjacket,” Alex retorted. “Shrinks don’t care about real, they care about normal—and in case you haven’t noticed, nothing about my life qualifies as that anymore. Neither does yours, but you don’t want to admit it.”

  Jen stared at her, fine lines around her mouth marking her tension. “Well. Do feel free to get your feelings off your chest, Alexandra. Don’t hold back on my account.”

  Alex put a hand to her temple, where a wrecking crew threatened to take up residence. The tension of the day—the last many days—thrummed through her like an overextended rubber band.

  “This is why I don’t return your calls,” she said. “Because whatever you might tell yourself, you’d rather not know what’s going on in my life. You can’t handle it.”

  Jen’s chin lifted. Stubborn denial darkened her doeskin-brown eyes. “That’s rather harsh, don’t you think?”

  Alex stared at her. The internal rubber band snapped.

  “Hars
h?” she echoed. “Harsh? Goddamn it, Jennifer, you can’t keep pretending things are just fine. A Fallen Angel tried to kill me because I—we—descend from the Nephilim. The angel sent to stop him is the soulmate I can never have. The man I’m sleeping with is the son of the One and goddamn Lucifer for chrissakes, and he gave up his divinity to be with me.”

  She paused to swallow against the tightness building in her chest—and the admission of her rape by Lucifer, a detail she hadn’t yet shared with her sister and one Jennifer didn’t need to know.

  “Heaven and Hell are at war because of me, Jennifer. Our world is coming apart at its seams because of me.” A whisper deep inside her suggested she might be oversimplifying things just a little. She ignored it. The Archangel Michael had been right. She’d been the cause of Aramael killing his brother and breaking the Pact. Everything happening now—the war, Seth’s presence on Earth, all of it—stemmed from that. Stemmed from her.

  She forged on, her voice thick and ragged, “This is what I live with. This is my reality. And you’re right, I’m not coping with it. I’m trying to goddamn survive it.”

  Jen stared into the dishwasher for a long moment before reaching to tear a sheet of paper towel from the roll suspended beneath the cupboard. She folded it, dabbed at her eyes, blew her nose, added it to the garbage can. Then, in typical Jennifer fashion and at complete odds with what she preached about opening up and sharing, she said, “Thank you for dinner. It was nice getting to know Seth a bit better. It will make Nina’s birthday dinner more comfortable for everyone, I think. That is, if you’re still planning on coming to her birthday.”

  The tightness in Alex’s chest rose to grip her throat. She crossed her arms against the desire to reach out to her sister, because she didn’t trust herself not to choke Jen instead of hugging her. Despite what she’d said, a part of her did want to talk. Desperately. She would like nothing more than to unburden herself to someone who wouldn’t brush off what she said, wouldn’t try to rationalize, wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t have her committed. Someone she could talk to about Seth and Lucifer and how the two had become so entwined in her psyche. About the war she was certain was brewing in a realm she had never seen but knew to be real.

  About the panic that gripped her when she thought of how humanity’s potential savior had chosen her over his responsibility to the very universe itself.

  Panic that had increased tenfold in the wake of Michael’s visit.

  Hell, she’d give just about anything to talk to someone. But not Jen. As strong as her sister had seemed over the years, as much of an anchor she had been after their parents’ deaths, the events of the past couple of months had shown Alex that it was Jen who had taught her to bury her feelings in the first place. Jen who had always shut down the emotional discussions before they started. Jen who had truly failed to cope.

  And who would almost certainly fail to appreciate the irony if Alex were to point it out.

  Heart aching, Alex mustered a smile. She nodded. “Of course. Thursday night, six thirty sharp. We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Chapter 18

  Samael watched the females get into the vehicle: the Naphil’s sister and niece that Lucifer wanted so desperately to find. This was it. His chance to redeem himself with the Light-bearer. Here. Now. All he had to do was follow them to their home, and Lucifer would have what he wanted. An heir to lead the Nephilim army that would wipe out the One’s mortal children. And then …

  And then what? War with Heaven but without a leader?

  He looked up at the roof of the apartment building and the impassive Aramael, too far away to have sensed his presence. What was it about the Naphil that commanded such watchfulness?

  A car engine sputtered to life, pulling him back to the departing girl and woman. Damn. Stay or follow? A cold breeze swept bits of debris past him. The sweat on his brow turned icy. His gut insisted Heaven had a reason for keeping vigil over the Naphil. If he helped Lucifer kick his plan into action now, he might never have the chance to figure it out. But if he didn’t follow the women, if he didn’t report them—

  Then Lucifer would kill him for letting the opportunity pass. The Light-bearer would take one look into his eyes, into his soul, and know. And then he would kill him.

  Slowly and with great finesse.

  Samael rubbed the scar at the corner of his eye.

  The vehicle pulled away from the curb. Indecision tore at him. Follow the car or his suspicions? All day, something about Mika’el’s meeting with the Naphil had nagged at him. That Heaven wanted Seth to take back his powers had been stunning enough, but Samael was certain there was more to it. More that he needed to figure out before Lucifer completed his machinations and damned Hell itself to extinction.

  The car’s signal light flashed. Follow them or find out more about why the Naphil was so important? Lucifer’s orders or his own instinct? Damn it, he needed more time.

  Across the way, Aramael’s head swiveled with uncanny accuracy in his direction. Samael drew farther back into the shadows. Now that the Archangels knew he watched the Naphil, they would be actively looking for him. He’d never get anywhere near her, especially not with her soulmate in attendance.

  He snorted. The Naphil’s soulmate guarding her. The Appointed had to love this turn of events. Except Seth wouldn’t know about it yet, would he? Not if Mika’el was trying to recruit—

  Samael’s mind went still. Son of a bitch. That was it. That was the reason he’d hesitated. The answer had been staring him in the face all day. Mika’el hadn’t told Seth, because the Appointed had already chosen the woman over Heaven. The Archangel needed the woman’s help to convince Seth to take back his powers, needed her to convince him that some things were more important than their relationship. More important than his love for her. More important than him.

  Talk about the ultimate déjà vu.

  Taillights flashed at the end of the block, then rounded the corner and disappeared. With a smile, Samael stepped out from the sheltered doorway and stood in the pool of light beneath a streetlamp. He would not give up on the war. He would not give up on the possibility of returning to Heaven. And he sure as Creation itself would not risk losing Hell.

  He turned his face upward. Atop the roof, Aramael’s wings snapped open with a crack that shattered the quiet night, setting off a car alarm and sending a half dozen neighborhood dogs into hysterics.

  That’s right, Archangel, I’m here. Watch for me. Protect your precious Naphil. Because as long as you’re with her, you won’t get in the way of what I really want.

  Sketching a mock salute, Samael pulled out of reach.

  ***

  Only when night had fallen silent again did Aramael slowly fold his wings together. So Mika’el had been right. Samael did watch Alex. Watched but did nothing more, even though he’d had ample opportunity to take her between Mika’el’s departure and Aramael’s own arrival: when she’d left work, or pulled her car into the parking lot, or walked to the building, or reached to unlock the door. Samael had almost certainly been present when she’d done all those things, and yet he’d made no move. Why not?

  Aramael’s wings gave an irritable twitch. The Fallen One’s motives were Heaven’s concern, not his. His problem was more immediate. The nature of Alex’s job made her comings and goings irregular, unpredictable. With no reliable pattern of movement and no Guardian watching over her, he had no way of staying close enough without her noticing. In which case …

  He grimaced down at the sidewalk vacated by Samael.

  Mika’el was going to love this.

  He preferred not to think what Alex’s reaction would be.

  Chapter 19

  Alex twisted the dead bolt home. Never had she been so glad to see the back of her sister. Jen’s icy silence had made those last few minutes downright torturous. And just think, Alex had agreed to do this all over again at dinner on Thursday. Leaning her forehead against the door, she let the quiet of the hallway wash over her
. From the kitchen came a clatter of pots and pans as Seth cleared away the last of the dinner.

  Seth.

  Her shoulders sagged.

  Seth—and the conversation she’d avoided all day. How the hell was she going to tell him about Michael? About the mother who’d decided she needed his help now that he’d survived her assassination order? She squeezed her eyes shut. Would life ever resemble anything close to normal again?

  A throat cleared behind her. “I’m no expert on mortal relationships, but I’m guessing that wasn’t the most successful evening.”

  “Not really, no.” She sighed, facing him. “But it wasn’t your fault. Things between me and Jen have been … strained for a long time.”

  “As strained as they are between me and her?”.

  She smiled in spite of herself. “Maybe not that strained, no.”

  “I never thought of myself as the invisible type.”

  “Trust me, you’re not. And besides, she did thank you for saving Nina’s life, remember?”

  Seth snorted. “More like she thanked the wall.” He leaned a shoulder against the doorpost beside him and slid his hands into his pockets, watching her. “You know the war will reach Earth eventually.”

  “I know.”

  “Will all mortals respond the way your sister does?”

  “Pretending that it doesn’t exist, you mean? Some will.”

  “And the others?”

  Settling against the front door, she lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Some will look for an explanation they can accept, others for a way to exploit things for their own purposes. Some will lash out in fear.”

  “And when the fear spreads? You can’t protect humanity from itself forever.”

  She closed her eyes. “I know.”

  “I’ve decided to help.”

  Shock snapped her eyelids open again. “I thought you didn’t want to get involved. You said this was between—Heaven and Hell.”