by Elicia Hyder
I heard her voice before I saw her. She and Sandalphon came around a bend in the path. The old angel was holding onto her arm and using a cane. Cassiel was smiling until she looked up and saw me.
“Warren,” Sandalphon said, straightening his hunched back as much as possible.
I had no idea how old Sandalphon actually was, but his face was wrinkled and droopy, like a wax mask that had sat too long in the sun. Shockingly, he’d cut his long gray beard and had trimmed his hair. And instead of wearing his favored wizard-like Eden robes, he was dressed like an island civilian. He wore a wide-brim hat, khaki pants, and a white button-up with the sleeves rolled up his thin forearms.
The sight was jarring.
I met them halfway across the garden. “Sandalphon.”
“Please, my son, call me Elijah, or Eli, here on Earth.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “It’s much easier for the humans to spell.”
I smiled. “It’s surprising to see you here, Eli.”
He looked up at Cassiel. “She asked me to come. How could I say no?”
“I had hoped he might be able to help me figure out a way to restore the darkness veil around the spirit line.” Cassiel’s expression wilted even more. “Then the spirit line went down, and he was stuck here with me.”
Sandalphon patted her hand. “Never stuck with you, my dear.”
“When was the spirit line destroyed?” I asked.
Cassiel didn’t have to think about it. “Two hundred and ninety-three days ago, about a week after it was exposed.”
“About a week after we used the crystal water,” I said, the guilt settling around my shoulders like a pillory.
“It’s my fault, Warren, not yours. You had no idea the consequence of using crystal water, but I did. When I gave it to you, I knew I’d have to take full responsibility for my actions.”
“You couldn’t have known how much time would pass or that the Morning Star would be old enough to be a threat,” Sandalphon argued.
“I’m not sure that will matter to the Council,” Cassiel said.
Sandalphon lifted his bony shoulders. “Well, the bright side is you have a reprieve from their judgment. Possibly a permanent one.”
“You really don’t think the spirit line can be repaired?” I asked.
Cassiel sighed. “There’s nothing to repair. The spirit line is gone.”
“Recreated then? If the Morning Star was strong enough to create it, surely Iliana can do it too.”
“Iliana is strong enough, but she doesn’t know how.” Cassiel gestured between herself and Sandalphon. “We don’t even know how.”
Sandalphon held up a hand. “Can we take this conversation to a park bench or a table? My old joints can’t stay vertical much longer.”
“Of course,” Cassiel said, gripping his arm as they walked toward the gate. “Warren, you coming?”
I followed. “What about the Father? Does he know?”
“He does, but not while he’s on Earth in the form of Father John,” she said as we exited the garden.
“What if we kill him?”
Cassiel stopped and looked back so quickly Sandalphon almost fell down.
“Not kill him, but what if I dispatch him from his earthly body?” I asked.
She continued on toward a thatch-roof gazebo near the pool. “It’s not only his body that limits him. It’s this realm. In order to access his full powers, he must return to Eden.”
My head dropped back in frustration. “And he can’t return without the spirit line.”
“Bingo.” She led Sandalphon into the gazebo. There was a table and chairs inside it. “I’ve almost wondered if the Morning Star’s intention behind the virus wasn’t twofold. One reason being to kill humans, but also to ensure the Father would be on Earth. Before that, he stayed in Zion almost the entire time you were gone.”
“Really?”
She pulled out a chair for Sandalphon, and he sat down. “Yes. He never gave up hope that you were alive.”
I walked over. “I saw him there just before I left for Nulterra. He told me he sent Rogan and Jett to protect Iliana.”
“Your tone sounds as if you doubt the Father,” Sandalphon said as he eased onto the chair.
“Not exactly, but it’s clear we can’t be too careful.”
“I agree,” Cassiel said. “So I checked them out myself. Their motives are pure.”
As an Angel of Knowledge, Cassiel could extract information with a touch from angels or humans. It was impossible to lie to her. Impossible to keep secrets.
“Good. Thank you.”
She gestured toward the chair beside her. “Come sit. We have much to discuss. We’ve just spoken with Torman.”
I pulled out the chair and sat down. “Did he tell you how this happened?”
“Which part?”
“How did I lose seventeen years? We were only there two days.”
“You were only there for what felt like two days. As I understand it, you spent most of your visit to Nulterra in the land of Ket Nhila. Torman tells us Ket Nhila is an illusion subjective to the human souls present. I would guess your experience there was very much like Earth.”
“That’s right. We spent our first night on the military base where I was stationed in Iraq. It was almost exactly the same.” Realization hit me. “It mimicked the days and nights of Earth.”
“I believe so,” Cassiel said.
“The next morning, we awoke to a wasteland with no sun. It was dark, except for the glow of the lake of fire.” I closed my eyes. “That was the real Nulterra. I’m sure we were there a long time, but we had no way to measure it.”
“Torman said the days there were equal to almost a decade in this realm,” she said quietly. “Thus extending the Thousand Year Prophecy, as it was relevant to the Morning Star’s existence—not Earth’s time clock. In spirit form, he could travel through the gate without it being open.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “And while I was caught up there, things went all to hell here.”
Neither of them spoke.
“What about Flint? Why didn’t he tell us how much time had passed?” I asked.
“He didn’t know. Samael had taken him to Zion to wait for news with the Father, and we didn’t tell him.”
Inside Eden, humans had no concept of time. Nor did they have any connection with the things of Earth outside what they were told by the angels.
Cassiel looked mildly guilty. “We decided you all knowing would be counterproductive to getting you out.”
She was probably right, but I couldn’t help but feel a little pissed off about it. I’d never been blindsided like I was by Iliana showing up at the gate.
Sandalphon steepled his fingers, studying me carefully. “Perhaps we should focus on what’s ahead, rather than what’s in the past.”
With a heavy sigh, I nodded and sat back in my chair. “Who else might know about the spirit line? Surely the Morning Star and the Father aren’t the only ones.”
“You’re correct. Someone else was present for the spirit line’s creation,” Cassiel said.
I leaned in.
“Azrael.”
“And he has no memory of it, I’m sure,” I said.
Cassiel’s eyes fell to the lump beneath my shirt. “You don’t have the memory either.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. A fact she was certain of without even asking.
I pulled out Azrael’s blood stone and clenched it in my palm. “I don’t. I’ve never seen anything in the blood stone about the creation of the spirit line.”
“I told you Azrael would take off the necklace when there was information he didn’t want anyone else to know,” Cassiel said to Sandalphon.
I could attest to that. I’d found the stone locked away in his safe during the time he’d employed Fury to distract me.
Sandalphon closed his eyes.
I looked at Cassiel. “Nathan said you talked to Azrael.”
“I did. He got the number
for the resort from someone at Wolf Gap. He didn’t want to talk to me, however. He wants to talk to you.”
“OK. Give me a phone.”
“First, we need to come up with a plan.” Cassiel tapped her finger on the tabletop. “Azrael is on his way here.”
“He is?”
She nodded. “Yes, and we need to be prepared.”
“What’s to prepare? When he gets here, I’ll put the necklace on him. Boom. He’ll have his memories back.”
Cassiel looked confused. “You think it’s that simple?”
“Why do you think it’s so complicated?”
“Warren, this isn’t like the last time where Azrael suddenly lost his memories when he came through the spirit line. He hasn’t been fumbling around a few days not knowing who he is. He isn’t desperate to remember like he was before.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Everyone thought you were dead. He mourned your death at the same time his memories of the supernatural world were fading away. Not only did stories of angels and demons and Heaven and Hell become fiction to him, they became synonymous with the most painful experience of his mortal life.”
She touched my forearm. “It’s more than a memory problem. Azrael doesn’t want anything to do with the supernatural.”
“So I’ll hold him down and put the necklace on him if I have to,” I said.
“That may have worked before, when Azrael’s mind was a clean slate, but Cassiel is right. This is very different.” Sandalphon’s cool-blue eyes drifted toward the horizon. “Azrael would no longer be searching for truth in the blood stone. That’s the only way those memories are accessed.”
Cassiel sat back and put her hands in her lap. “And if the Morning Star gets ahold of the necklace instead, the memories are as good as gone.”
“So what do you suggest I do?” I asked.
“You must get close to him. Gain Azrael’s trust. Only then might he be willing to seek out the truth.”
“And accept the truth,” Sandalphon added.
“If he gets his memories back from the blood stone, do you think he’ll remember how the Morning Star built the spirit line?” I asked.
Cassiel shrugged. “We can only hope.”
“When’s he coming?”
“As soon as they can ready a plane,” Cassiel said.
“So two days, at least, including flight time. I’m sure I’ll talk to him before then.”
“When you do, tread lightly on the supernatural,” she warned.
“What does he think happened to me if not that I died in Nulterra?”
“He believes you died here on the island, on a rescue mission to find Fury’s sister.”
“So he remembers Anya?” I asked.
Because Anya was an angel, he shouldn’t remember her either.
Cassiel shook her head. “He remembers Fury.”
I raked a hand back through my hair. “What a mess.”
“I’m sorry, Warren.”
“Don’t be. The crystal water saved Fury’s life down there, and it allowed you, Theta, and Flint to help us get out. We wouldn’t have survived without it.”
Cassiel’s eye glistened. “And for your safety, I’m grateful. That’s all I ever wanted.”
My heart tugged. “Cassiel, I—”
“There you are.” Fury came up the stone path from one of the huts. Her damp hair hung loose around her shoulders, and she wore a short tank-top dress, unlike anything I’d ever seen her in before. “The shower’s free if you want to clean up before dinner.”
I was torn. There was so much I wanted to say to Cassiel.
“Go shower,” Cassiel said with a pained smile. “We can talk later.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.” She leaned toward Sandalphon. “Would you like to secure a nice table in the dining room?”
Fury offered me her hand. I took it and stood. “We’ll see you in there then,” I said to them.
Neither responded nor looked at me as we left.
Fury led me down the path along the ridgeline. “What was that about?”
“They were filling me on Azrael’s situation and the destruction of the spirit line.” I tugged on her hand. “Why? Worried?”
She laughed sarcastically. “No.” She pulled me to a stop. “Should I be?”
I turned toward her, closing the space between us with a step. I curled my hand behind her neck and pulled her lips up to meet mine. My kiss was hard and greedy, and when I broke it, I dragged my teeth across her bottom lip.
She smiled. “Guess not.”
“You look hot in that dress.”
“It’s your daughter’s.”
I groaned up toward the sky. “Shit, don’t tell me that.”
“It’s messed up, right?” She continued down the path, towing me behind her. “We missed everything.”
I followed her up the steps around to the back of the first villa we reached. “I feel like I’m stuck in a dream I can’t wake up from.”
“Me too.” She walked through the unlocked door. “This is us.”
Inside, a queen-sized bed faced a wall of windows and a balcony looking out over the jungle toward the ocean. “Wow. This is nice.” I walked to the window. The sun was low in the sky, and there was nothing as far as I could see across the water in the distance.
Fury stood behind me and rested her head on my shoulder. I took her hand, pulling it around to my chest. I tilted my face toward her. “How are you handling everything?”
She shook her head.
I exhaled slowly. “Same.”
After a moment, she pulled away. “You should shower. Dinner is supposed to be soon.”
“I’m so hungry.”
“I know.” She picked up a bag off the floor, and the cotton dress strained across her butt. She straightened and handed me a bag. “This is from Kane. He’s the only one here about your size.” Her head tilted. “What?”
I realized I was smiling. “You could’ve waited for me to shower.”
“We’d never eat.” She stretched on her toes and kissed me. “Hurry up. Everything you need is in there.”
The hot water didn’t last long, which was probably a good thing, knowing Fury was in the next room. Cold showers were necessary if I wanted to get anything done around her.
After drying off, I stepped out and wrapped the towel around my waist. In the mirror, my gaze fell on the stone resting between my pecs. I touched it, remembering what Cassiel had said. “You don’t have the memory either.”
It was such an odd statement. A declaration, really. It stuck with me, but I couldn’t figure out why.
There was a light tap on the bathroom door. I twisted the handle and opened it a crack.
“I thought I might blow-dry my hair while I wait for you.” Fury’s eyes drifted the length of my damp torso, and when they settled on the towel, her lips parted with a small breath.
I opened the door wider. “Help yourself.”
She came inside, and I stood behind her as she bent to look in the cabinet beneath the sink. Unable to stop myself, I slid my hand around her hipbone and squeezed.
The smile she flashed over her shoulder was all the encouragement I needed. I grabbed the hem of the dress and pulled it up over her hips.
She wore nothing underneath it.
A deep groan rolled up my throat.
Fury grasped the fabric bunched around her waist, and in one seamless motion, pulled it over her head and dropped it onto the floor.
Letting the towel fall to my feet, I pulled her bare back against my chest. She reached back, tangling her fingers in my wet hair, and all my blood rushed south so fast it made me dizzy.
When Fury arched her spine, my mind went blank.
A blank slate.
There was nothing between us but the blood stone.
“You don’t have the memory either.”
Cassiel could extract information with a touch. A similar scene with her had given her full acce
ss to Azrael’s blood stone through me.
Holy shit. My eyes popped open. Cassiel had been spying on me the whole damn time.
Chapter Four
I yawned all through dinner.
It wasn’t really a surprise, as my body had been going for days—or years, depending on which clock you used—with barely any sleep. The exhaustion got the better of my emotions while we ate.
The tables in the dining room had been pushed together to form three long tables. Fury and I sat at the center one with Iliana, Sloan, Nathan, Anya, Jett, and Reuel. Our friends gathered at the surrounding tables.
Cassiel sat facing me with Sandalphon one table away. Each time we made awkward eye contact during dinner, my jaw clenched.
We needed to talk, but I needed a good night’s sleep first.
For dinner, we were served the best slab of meat I’d eaten in ages. Steak marinated in soy sauce, testosterone, and happiness. It was topped with caramelized onions and shrimp.
Sloan eyed my cleaned plate with a grin. “Good to be back?”
I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my full stomach. “We haven’t eaten since we left.”
At the end of the table, Reuel made a whiny sound of rebuttal.
“Cheetos and granola bars don’t count,” I told him.
Nathan chuckled. “I was going to say, Reuel went two whole days without food, and you guys made it back alive?”
The whole table laughed. Reuel just shrugged and ate the leftover steak off Anya’s plate.
“What was it like down there?” Sloan asked, putting her hands in her lap.
I pushed my plate forward and leaned my elbows on the table. “I don’t mind telling you about it, but I’d rather hear about everything I missed.” I looked at Iliana. “What’s your life been like?”
“You want me to ruin the play-by-play interactive documentary Mom has kept of the past seventeen years?” Iliana asked, flashing a teasing smile at Sloan.
I looked at Sloan. “You have?”
Sloan’s cheeks flushed. “I may have been a little overly sentimental.”
“A little?” Iliana laughed. “You saved my first training bra.”
Nathan covered his ears. “We don’t need to hear about that at the dinner table.”
