Unchained Desire

by R. C. Alvarez

  Such solemn dark eyes regarded her. “Sorry. Nothing we do can be done to save him. You should focus on yourself for now. Let heaven and earth and even hell move themselves for once. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a marble to find.” Crooning the first lyrics of “Highway to Hell,” he vanished.

  She rubbed her face. This isn’t over. Find a way. There has to be something. Right? Life had become one impossibility after another. Sprouting wings, magic healing powers, growing up to be a decent person despite being born to a demon lord. I’ll figure this out.

  When her father loomed in the doorway, leaning heavily on a cane, she let all the years of being the good daughter slip away under a cold shoulder. He hadn’t said much when he woke upon their return. He’d been avoiding her. Now he wanted to talk?

  “Sweetheart, please listen.” He continued when she glanced at him. “I just…I wanted to say that everything I ever did was to keep you safe. All the rundown hotels were paradise compared to the home Nema… your mother, would have given you.”

  “I know. But at one point you could have told me something. Anything.” Kyria rubbed her forehead, trying to sooth the pounding. It didn’t help. A clear head was essential to find anything that would help Ram. She sat down at Val’s desk.

  Darius stepped all the way into the room and stood across from her. He was quickly recovering from his cursed illness after feeding from Sara’s blood. It had come as a shock to Kyria when she found out the archangel had healing powers, too, though Sara’s abilities were tied to the phases of the moon, apparently, where Kyria’s were not.

  “I’m not asking you to forgive and forget. I’ve always been weak. It’s gotten me in trouble more than a few times.”

  What she didn’t want was to hear any confessions or apologies. “You were with her. You made a baby with her.” Scanning the books, she hoped to find something that resembled the markings Ram’s blood had created. “Did you do it…willingly?”

  “I did.” He fidgeted. Disgust and self-loathing cut deeply into his stern face. An old sense of compassion wanted to reach out and fuss over him, comply the way she always did.

  Pride and anger glued her in place. Horror threatened to engulf her heart. Where Ramiel had been tortured, her father laid with that sick demon of his own free will.

  “But that was a long time ago. When times were different. I was different.”

  “I forgive you, Dad,” Kyria swallowed with a dry throat as she thought of David and his mother. He was far too young to know the truth of her death. “I understand why you didn’t tell me who my real mother was when I was little. But you should have told me when I got older. When I turned eighteen or something. I would have understood. I would have been better prepared for…all of this.”

  “Kyria.” He reached for her arm. She turned slightly. If a woman’s heart could wither like a dying animal, she imagined hers in the middle of its death rattle.

  She wiped a stupid tear. “This is usually where I’d say I’m sorry. But I’m not going to. I’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” She glanced out a window, unable to look up into the regretful depths of her father’s eyes.

  He couldn’t bring back those years she’d idolized a mother that never existed. She was stupid and childish. All those times she bragged about the sacrifice her mom made. Nancy. The beautiful woman full of grace and kindness. The woman she wanted to be like. Now all she could think about was Nema. I swear I’m nothing like her. I can’t be.

  “Kyria. Please look at me.”

  She did. “I remember being eight years old, doing or saying anything I could just to make you smile. Because that angry fear you carried around with you scared me way more than the cartel ever did. I know you were just protecting me, but I can do that myself now. I need you to be my dad now, not my bodyguard.”

  The shame etched into the lines of his face mirrored hers. She took a deep breath and recollected herself.

  “I’ll always love you, Dad. But right now, I need to focus on Ram. I have to save him.”

  He might never want to see her again, the daughter of the monster that tortured him for years, but that would be his choice. He deserved that and more. Reaching into the collar of her shirt, Kyria grasped the warm heart-shaped pendant of her necklace and snapped it off. Part of her broke away with it.

  Her childhood, she suspected, and the memories of growing up with her father’s fear. All the running, all the lies. She wanted to throw the charm at him, but she placed it in his hand and gently forced him to wrap his fingers around it.

  “I’m going to find Ram and free him. That’s my focus now.”

  “Kyria.”

  “I gotta go, Dad. We’re still not even sure it’s safe for me to be around you. I don’t want you to get sick again.” She walked past him to head downstairs and see if the others were up for another round of search-and-rescue.

  “Wait a moment.” Her father caught her wrist and stopped her. “Ramiel saved us both. I don’t know what happened while I was gone, but I can see…you love him. And he loved you.” He paused. “I’ll leave, just in case what you and Val are saying is true, about me being sick because of your powers. While I’m gone, I’ll look for answers about your mark. I’ll get a phone and keep in touch. But when I regain my full strength, I’ll help you find him. I promise.” He let go. “I love you, sweetheart.”

  She turned to say something. “Dad…” But he was gone.

  Kyria groaned and squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to slump against the wall and let the tears fall. But she didn’t. She rushed downstairs.

  “Kyria. There you are.” Val gave her a hug before she could say anything. “I was worried. Your father…”

  “He’s gone.” Kyria pulled away, her heart aching to go looking for her dad again. She’d just gotten him back after all the panic and the worried frustration of having no idea if he was alive or dead. At least he’d left of his own will this time. “He’ll be fine.”

  “What about you?”

  Kyria ignored Val’s question. “Where are the others? We have a lot to do.”

  “I’m actually getting worried about Eli. He’s never gone this long without touching base.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine.”

  Val forced a smirk. “Probably saving more Nephilim in Peru.”

  “How is Lennie?”

  “Worried about her father. I gave them a place to stay at the bunker until Josh is strong enough to go back to the shop. She still hasn’t told me much about the baby’s father except that he was a mysterious man with a lot of secrets. I think she’s protecting him.” She sighed, then her features softened. “David and the other boys have taken it upon themselves to spoil her rotten. They say a pregnant lady shouldn’t lift a finger until the baby comes.”

  Kyria couldn’t help but smile, a small spot of light. “That’s adorable.”

  “Oh, and there’s this.” Val held out a hand. In her palm she held a glass marble colored like a galaxy.

  Kyria’s smile faltered. “Bishop. Did he give that to you?” She picked it up to get a better look at it.

  “Of course, he did. He went off on some rant about jelly beans and guinea pigs. There was something about the Navy? I don’t know, it seemed like a whole lot of crazy. But, Ky. Something he mentioned caught my attention. And I just can’t seem to shake this feeling.”

  “What was it?”

  “The Rapture.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The pressure of something solid crushed under his back woke Ramiel up. He wasn’t floating around in a void anymore. He had a body. He was alive on a physical plane.

  He took a deep breath and filled his lungs, trembling. An echoing voice emerged, bouncing off the walls of what sounded like a large chamber with a high ceiling. Where the hell was he?

  He was naked, lying face up, his wings spread out beneath him. Alive. Fucking alive. He touched his chest, but it was smooth flesh. No gaping wound where Nema had clawed into him

  Kyria’s last sc
reaming protest rang through his head. The thrust of her hands and her healing power that surged toward him as he fell into the abyss. That had to be it. There was no other explanation for his chest. But it still didn’t explain how he was here on earth and not lost in the abyss.

  Eyesight clearing, he found the compassionate eyes of the Mother’s sacrifice staring down at him. A human named Jesus. The lifeless sculpture regarded him as if it cared. As if it understood. Maybe God’s the one who saved me…

  Yeah, right. Ramiel groaned and lifted his shoulders, turning to his stomach to rest on his elbows. He hung his head, his forehead touching a plush carpet.

  He’d told Kyria once that Heaven and Hell had minds of their own, both created by God and angels to keep the most depraved and evil souls from destroying the world. Had Hell seen his action and judged it in the light of a holy sacrifice and decided to spit him out, mistaking him for one of the good guys?

  A dry laugh raked through him as he remembered what he’d done to protect his mate. His fated. He was a good man.

  Nema vanquished to the abyss.

  He smiled at the memory of shock and horror on her true face when she realized it was over. Forever trapped in the evil throne of her own making. Thank the Mother of All.

  He sat up and lifted his gaze. The painted ceiling with all its intricate patterns provided a maze for his scattered thoughts to drift where his heart needed it most. Kyria. Watching her fight in the bowels of Hell scared the shit out of him.

  But she was something else. New to the world of angels and demons yet still able to face her fears. It had taken him centuries to grow up and tackle his own demons like that.

  Pride swamped him, but fuck, the danger she put herself in pissed him off. And his old team had been with her, fighting to protect her. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to trust some of the family again.

  He wanted to yell at her for being there, but she had faced Nema for him. With him. Even after the things they’d managed to accomplish together throughout the week, he hadn’t allowed his fated to help him. Trying to be the lone hero till the very end.

  “Fuck.” He wanted to laugh.

  A deep voice yelled of damnation. Ram turned, taking in his unexpected surroundings. He held his arms out and stretched his fingers wide. Only his tattoos and the symbol on his palm remained.

  The marking that matched Kyria’s. All of his scars and markings given to him by Nema were…gone.

  Colorful light streamed through stained glass windows above him and danced across his bare skin. He had to be in a house of worship. A cathedral or temple. A whole new kind of hell.

  A chorus of some old hymn vibrated off the walls, and an organ led the way. It went on for a while.

  Then the singing faded into low hums, and a voice rose up, spitting out words followed by hushed verses. The speaker was full of fear. Fear that manifested into hatred. He could relate.

  Standing, Ram tilted his head to listen.

  The man talked of fighting. “Stand up.” His voice vibrated throughout the building. “Stand up and cast out those who try to drag you down with their sin. Be bold in your condemnation. In the name of purity, take up arms and shun those who do us harm. They are filth. A disease that must be eradicated.”

  Did the specifics matter? The chants were as old as human history. Jesus Christ, didn’t they ever get bored with themselves?

  A chorus of amens followed. Ramiel had enough.

  Without shame, he moved out from behind the screens. He passed tables of holy offerings. His wings arched high and the tips of his longest feathers brushed the floor.

  Standing tall and naked, he stopped before the congregation. The pews half full of bitter-faced people.

  He grinned at them, because what was being fully naked in front of a crowd of self-righteous humans when he’d just had the shittiest day?

  As one, the congregation gasped as he came into view. He stretched the iridescent feathers of his wings out to their full glory. The preaching ceased. Haunting music from the organ cut off. Silence hung like a noose around them.

  “You know…” He paused, looking each person in the eye. “I missed the point before. You’re missing the point now. It’s idiots like you that piss God off. You got haters. You got sinners. Big deal. But guess what? The problem’s not them. It’s you. Jesus Christ, go find something to love for God’s sake.”

  Love.

  Ramiel didn’t want to waste any more time with these idiots. He stepped off the speaker’s stage, ignoring all the shock and gaping faces. He strode down the aisle. A woman fainted as he passed by.

  When he reached the double doors carved from heavy, dark wood, a young man stood in the way. He stared up at Ram, speechless. The kid didn’t even blink. He debated pushing him aside. Wait a second…

  He had his wings, his full power. Closing his eyes, he whispered Kyria’s name like a prayer and flashed home.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Kyria sat on the modest bed huddled in the corner of the pilot’s lounge. She grabbed the pillow Ramiel used and pressed it to her face. His scent was there, embraced by her own. Sweet and spice intertwined for however long it would last.

  She brushed away silent tears and set the pillow back in its rightful place. She doubted she would ever make any changes to the room, but the hangar was going under major construction. A training gym for the orphans, to teach them how to protect themselves against the dangers fast approaching.

  They wouldn’t go unprepared like she had. She would start with David. The last time she talked to him, he had asked about his mother, and she had lied to him. Like father, like daughter, she supposed. David deserved to know.

  A nudge against her thigh shifted her attention. Buddy had brought her a gift, a chewed-up Thor action figure. She had to smile as she picked him up, bringing him face to face with her. “Hey there, Buddy. I can take care of myself now. I just needed some alone time before meeting Val and David to search for Eli. Looks like the end of the world is coming. We need all the help we can get. So, I can’t…I can’t waste all my time looking for Ram.”

  She touched the tip of her nose to his. It was nice to be with someone that didn’t look at her with pity.

  Just the mere contact with her little friend calmed her nerves and brought a little inner peace. “I love you, too, boy.”

  Love. A complicated word. One she wouldn’t get to share with Ram. Kyria put the hedgehog down and wiped her face again.

  Buddy went in the cardboard box in the corner. She set the ruined action figure on the table.

  Kyria leaned forward on the old green couch, muffling a sob behind her hand, slowly drowning. She bit down hard on her tongue and tangled her fingers in her hair as she pressed her forehead into her palms. Calm down. Calm down.

  For once, she managed to keep it all inside.

  Finally, she got up and wandered back into the living area. On the table, under the little Thor, was an envelope. Stamped on the outside was a big smiley face. Above it, in fancy calligraphy, it said: From Bishop.

  Hands shaking, she opened it and found a torn napkin. In purple ink, he wrote…

  For Kyria only. Want to play with my shooter marble? Each window broken is a new door waiting to be kicked in. Is that too vague? I guess I just wanted you to know that I finally remembered where I saw your special mark before. It’s in a book that hasn’t been written yet. LOL whoops smiley face! Spoiler alert: you’re the one to write it.

  Just to give you a head start, because I’m a nice guy like that, you should know that there are seven of you total. Seven marked Nephilim that are developing their powers early just like you. Find the other five. Help them. They need you now more than ever as the Rapture is upon us. And in this story, it needs to happen. The apocalypse is a good thing. Trust me. There will be a secret weapon that can aid you in the battles to come. Just don’t forget to floss! I think that’s it.

  P.S. I told you there was nothing WE could do to save him, didn’t I? Have faith in the
powers that be. Open the front door.

  Was he joking? She read the entire thing again. Then again. After everything, after all his riddles, twisted words, and puzzling statements, he left a letter with upfront information. Seven marked Nephilim. She grew light-headed.

  And then he told her to open the door.

  Kyria lowered the note to look at the front entrance. She sighed and walked to it. This was silly. And yet…

  She grabbed the handle and opened the door. A naked, blond Ramiel loomed there in all his dark and brooding glory, looking like he was just about to knock. Her eyes widened, her lips parted. Her whole body went numb, and disbelief flooded her voice. “Ramiel?”

  There was a moment of shock between them as they stared at each other.

  He was exactly the same. Beautiful. But completely different. Glowing. No more scars. The hideous runes Nema put on him were gone. Only the simple tattoos he must have bought for himself to cover them remained.

  Crying out, she launched herself at him. Her arms wrapped around his familiar warmth, and she embraced him fiercely. Because he was here. And because she had to make sure she didn’t just imagine things.

  His skin pressed against her. His bare skin. He was real. She started crying all over again, and he stiffened.

  She pushed herself off and stood back. He wouldn’t want anything to do with her now that the truth of her mother’s real identity surfaced. Taking a deep breath, she found him staring at her, his hardened expression so intense, she had to look away.

  “I’m so sorry, Ram.” She wiggled her bare toes and turned her eyes down. How did she apologize for a hundred years of horrific acts committed by the woman that birthed her? She needed to move, and started to turn away.

  “Where are you going?” Ram’s voice sounded raw. A warm hand touched her shoulder and slid down her arm, creating a trail of goose bumps on her skin.