He smiled and chuckled; pain shot from his mouth and ribs. His human body survived the escapade. It was more than worth the risk he’d taken. Cecily was divine.
“What’s so funny?”
He heard Cecily’s voice behind him, making him jump. He hadn’t heard her approach.
He turned to see an unclothed and physically unmarked Cecily—still looking irresistibly alluring. Javan let his gaze fall wantonly over every inch of her body, enjoying looking at what he’d just conquered. He hadn’t been able to see her like this while she lay under, or on top of, him. Her curves and angles were perfectly balanced and symmetrical. Her skin snugly fit her frame, leaving nothing but a toned body beneath. Time no longer affected her beauty; she would never age or sicken, and she would always be this exquisite.
Even with all she could physically and visually offer him, he knew she could never stop the pain he felt from losing Gabrielle—the one thing that caused him to regret his decision to challenge Yahuwah. The one thing, if he was given the chance to change what he’d done, he would stay for.
Gabrielle would be worth the aggravation of bowing to Him.
That chance would never be offered. Of that, he was sure. There was no way he could turn back time; there was only one who could. And there was no way Yahuwah would ever forgive him. Javan would just have to believe Gabrielle’s love for him would return her to his side.
Some day.
Javan’s attention was drawn away from thoughts of reconciling with Gabrielle when Cecily dramatically shifted her stance as if her body was getting tired in the position she was standing in. The idea was ridiculous because it was impossible—the Qalal didn’t tire in mind or body except in sunlight. She achieved the desired result, which was letting him know that the staring and silence between them had become boring.
Javan finally spoke, smiling a mischievous smile as he did.
“I just didn’t know if this body would survive our fun. I’m happy I don’t have to vacate it to find another one that isn’t broken.”
Cecily glided toward him. “I was on my best behavior.” She used her fingers to trace the muscles and curves of his chest again. She continued speaking between lingering kisses that went from one side of his neck to the other. “I was—really—very—gentle.”
“That was gentle? I’d hate to see what rough is like.”
Cecily moved her lips down his chest. She stopped to look up at him. “On the contrary, if you were in a body that could handle it, a Qalal’s body, I assure you, you wouldn’t hate it.”
As she continued on her previous path, Javan closed his eyes, smiling and sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth when she reached her destination.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
GABRIELLE ~ PUZZLE PIECES
Gabrielle decided she would go to sleep when she got home. No work, no hunting for news about the Book, no trying to figure out what would happen with her and Lucas or what Javan was doing—which she was certain involved the Book.
Just sleep.
The clock on her bedside table showed a quarter after three in the morning. She didn’t bother to change clothes, just slipped her sandals off and curled up under the covers. As soon as she fell asleep, the dreams came.
Gabrielle sat upright with a jolt, sweating and breathing heavily. The dreams were more detailed; information was no longer impaired when she was in her human body. She was shown the same five scenes, but this time, they were connected. The Book was mere steps from where Gabrielle and Javan fought; the swarms of angels weren’t fighting separately or at different times; they were all around them. Their numbers were so vast that the sounds of their swords clashing and screams of pain were almost deafening. Then she was looking up at Javan as she held Lucas in her arms. She’d descended to him after watching him fall to the ground, while Javan laughed wickedly. The entire time, Light and Dark angels continued their bloody combat. The Divine blood of angels and the almost black fluid that coursed through demon’s veins intermingled on the ground around where she and Lucas landed. The stench of Darkness was heavy in the air, making her want to vomit.
I have to tell Amaziah.
This time, she wasn’t shown the vision of just her and Lucas as he was lying on the ground—energies from unknown beings were fleeing in the distance. That one … she still hadn’t had again.
At least, not yet.
She didn’t waste time and called Amaziah. When he responded, she told him what was revealed in her dream. Then she told him about her encounter with Javan and Mara. She went on to fill him in on what she’d discovered about Lucas, Emma, and his family’s death. And reluctantly, informed him that Lucas now knew everything about her.
Amaziah wouldn’t be happy about Lucas learning who, and what, she was, but he gave no indication of it. He let her know he understood. She couldn’t worry about him being angry, though. Especially with the mood she already felt.
It was five fifteen.
She was still tired but had too much on her mind to go back to sleep. Instead, she took a quick shower, brushed her teeth, and threw on a comfortable pair of lounge pants and an oversized sweatshirt. She glanced at herself in the mirror and went downstairs to make a pot of coffee and her standard breakfast of toast with peanut butter and honey. After eating, she went to the great room and curled up in her oversized chair and just sat and thought. She thought about her decision to live among humans, Javan being cast from Heaven and what he’d become, what Javan had planned, her visions and what they meant, what could be done to prevent them from coming to pass, the trouble she could be getting herself into because of the relationship with Lucas—and a lot about Lucas, in general—the war, her friends who were now injured because of her and had almost lost their lives, the Book, Amaziah’s strange compliance with her wishes, creepy crows hanging around in a particular number she didn’t care for, and demons becoming more powerful.
Ugh … I don’t know if I can take much more.
The one thing she tried not to think about, and had to continually evict from her mind, was the last thing she always saw in her visions—Lucas’s lifeless body. But the merciless image was slipping through again at that moment, creating a feeling of dread that settled heavily on her.
She needed to find out what was in the Book. But with no history passed down about the Great Battle Amaziah had told her about, she had absolutely no reference to figure out what it could be used for. Knowing what was in it might make Javan’s intentions clear. If he intended on obtaining and using the Book himself, she had to find out if he had a real chance to succeed.
The morning passed quickly, and when Gabrielle looked up at the clock again, it was twelve ten. The only reason she even thought to look was her stomach grumbling about being empty. She made her way to the kitchen.
She’d had no epiphanies that morning and found herself irritated, having accomplished nothing.
What did I expect to happen? I can’t put a puzzle together with only a fraction of the pieces.
Yet she just spent hours trying to do just that.
Frustrated, Gabrielle slammed the door to the refrigerator she’d been standing in front of; glass bottles clanged together inside in protest. Regardless of her stomach, she had no appetite. She went to get more coffee but found the pot almost empty.
After spending more time harassed by questions she wouldn’t find answers to at the moment, she decided to call on Sheridan to take care of her work before Lucas came over. She hoped karma would have a better day. She’d hate to try and get through school with a mood resulting from two back to back days of mostly negative karma.
Sheridan showed up promptly.
They got to work and finished quickly. The day’s lot came out to be pretty even, so at least tomorrow would be no worse than today. Instead of dismissing Sheridan, as she typically would, Gabrielle asked her to stay. She needed information.
The two sat opposite each other at the kitchen counter’s bar. Sheridan looked perplexed and a little appre
hensive about Gabrielle’s request. She’d never asked her to stay before, and after what had happened between them, Gabrielle guessed Sheridan wasn’t sure why she was now.
“I need to know what’s been learned about the Book, Sheridan. I don’t want to bother anyone who’s helping to search for it if you can tell me.”
“There was a Cherubim speaking of it before I came to you. He was telling the story to a troop of angels. There’s a tremendous amount of interest since it is one that’s been lost to most of us, and many of our brethren are mourning as if it just happened. It must have been terrible, Gabrielle.
“The battle happened after Lucifer fell and became the Dark Lord, Ramai. It’s believed the that the Book everyone is searching for is his creation and, in fact, Yahuwah was not betrayed at all. But instead, that there was a copy made.
“Lucifer, blessed and granted by Yahuwah with knowledge, wisdom, power, and authority that was far superior to all other angels, eliminates all others with the ability to have brought such a book into existence. The Cherubim said it’s basically a blueprint of our eternal home and everything Yahuwah created. Only it’s a word blueprint. Those same words that breathed life into this world and ours can be reversed and used to destroy any of His creations. Whoever wields the power of the Book will hold everything created at their mercy. No one seems to know how the holy information came to be known by Lucifer before his falling, or how the copy of the book was lost to him, but it’s crucial one of us finds it before any other being gets a chance to use its power.” Sheridan stopped as though she was trying to decide where to continue.
“The Cherubim also said the words have to be spoken from the Throne of Yahuwah to work. That was what the fierce battle Amaziah spoke of was fought for, to protect the Throne, and why the Seraphim were involved. Michael and Raphael managed to gain possession of the original Book before the Throne was reached, and so the battle was won. However, the book in your vision is still being sought. Of course, we aren’t the only ones searching for it. Ramai and other fallen angels want it badly because they know ultimate power could be gained.”
Sheridan stopped speaking, seeming not to want to continue for some reason.
“Is there more, Sheridan?”
Sheridan took her time to answer before continuing cautiously.
“There is more, Gabrielle, but you should know it won’t be easy for you to hear.” She hesitated. “As you know, the reason Javan was cast from our home was known to few.”
Gabrielle nodded, now understanding Sheridan’s hesitation. Javan was a touchy subject when she was in the best of moods, and Sheridan knew she was dealing with an already edgy angel.
“The reason has been shared now because of the circumstances. Yahuwah wants all to be known to us so we can look for the Book with full knowledge of everyone we may encounter in its retrieval.
“Javan went to Yahuwah and challenged His authority. He demanded to be granted powers to do as he chose. He was removed and was to be punished by taking away his rank in the Cherubim and placed in Choir Three of the Third Triad. Javan was infuriated he would be put into the lowest of the Angelic Orders. He vowed he’d find the Book and destroy all Yahuwah created and loved, unless Javan deemed it worthy of surviving. It isn’t known why Javan thought it existed, but he was convinced he would be able to have its power. Even though it wasn’t Yahuwah’s desire to do initially, He cast out Javan after Javan’s threat.”
Silence held the space between them for a long moment.
Gabrielle let everything she’d been told settle into her mind. Studying each new puzzle piece, deciding how it fit. So much more made sense now. Javan actually believed he was going to be able to control Yahuwah along with everything and everyone He created—including Ramai and his legions of demons. It all seemed surreal. How had she not seen the Darkness in Javan? How long had they been together while those thoughts consumed him?
Could I have stopped him?
Sheridan spoke again, interrupting the stillness between them.
“There’s one other thing you should be aware of, Gabrielle.”
“Yes?”
“Information was given to Ramai by a human Seer. For some reason, Ramai intended to kill the Seer and his family. The Seer offered to tell him the full prophecy concerning the Destroyer coming into power, which he had received the night before, if Ramai spared their lives. We are trying to find out exactly what Ramai was told because it will make what we already know of the prophecy more clear. That’s all I know, but I’ll keep you informed about anything else I learn.”
“Thank you, Sheridan. You may go.”
Gabrielle was immediately alone again. Her thoughts were swirling in her mind. Things would become dire if the Book was found by anyone other than those still in Yahuwah’s fold. With all the new information in her head, she found it difficult to keep her mind on one thing. Sheridan was right; it had been very hard to hear about Javan. Gabrielle was devastated by what he’d become, and she knew it would never be any easier for her. He would always be a part of her, and she would always miss him.
What had become of their relationship didn’t matter, though. The last pieces of the puzzle were still out there, and she had to find them.
And I need to know exactly what the prophecy predicts.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
JAVAN ~ A SEER
Javan went to the kitchen and poured another glass of whiskey as Cecily walked a few steps behind him, softly purring to show her satisfaction.
“I’d ask if you want some,” he said as he poured his drink, “but I know what the answer will be.”
Cecily smirked. “Not my cup of tea. Thanks bunches, though.” She slowly meandered through the large room, stopping to study various pieces of art and to run her finger over the bindings of books scattered around the room.
Javan walked over to one of several windows that stretched almost the entire height of the loft and stared out into the darkness, wondering if Cecily could really take him to the Book. The night was slipping away. He knew he needed to wrap up the evening’s fun and have the conversation they’d put off. There would be no hope of getting rid of her once daylight reached into shadows. Not that he minded her company. He was enjoying it thoroughly, but Mara could be back any time. Even though he didn’t have to answer to her, he imagined she wouldn’t take the situation well if she discovered Cecily there. He didn’t want to alienate Mara. Not when she will be so useful later.
Cecily came to the window and wrapped her arms around him from behind. Her hands began to wander again. Javan stopped her and turned to meet her gaze. It was terribly difficult to resist her.
“Now that we’ve had our pleasure,” he said as he fought the urge to give in, “it’s time for business.”
Cecily’s expression cooled. “You’re no fun,” she said flatly as she walked away and sank into the corner of the leather couch.
“If you say so.” Javan flashed a knowing glance. “You say you can take me to the Book. How do you know it’s the right one? How do I know you aren’t wasting my time?” He sat down on the couch next to her. “And what’s the price you referred to earlier?”
She waited to answer him as if heavily considering the words she was about to speak.
“I know this book is the one you seek because I’ve seen it.”
“Just because you’ve seen a book doesn’t mean it’s the right book.”
“No, sweetie.” She looked at him with disgust. The annoyance in her tone matched her expression. “You’re not getting it. I’ve seen it in a vision. I’m a Seer.”
Javan didn’t concern himself with her sudden shift in the charm department. He found it intriguing. She was similar to him in many ways—the fallen angel and the Qalal—they were both damned. They just acquired the status in different ways. He laughed to himself at the comparison.
“As far as if I’m wasting your time … I don’t care about your time, Javan. I care about mine.” She laughed humorlessly. “You should
try to have a little faith.”
“I have faith I will get the Book with or without you. Can we get on with this? Your price?”
“Mmmm … I guess the honeymoon’s over,” she said with a wink. “My price isn’t monetary. I have more than enough money. I have eternal life, so I’m good there. I can have any man I want. Or woman, for that matter. What I don’t have, what I want, is power.”
Javan felt a smile tug on one side of his mouth again. I like her more and more.
“I’m a young Qalal by our standards. I’ve only been turned for a little over three hundred years. It would take me hundreds, and hundreds, of years to be considered an Elder. Even then, I have to try to put myself into the position to become one, and that could take hundreds more years. After all that effort and time … it still might never happen. I want the power the Elders have, and patience isn’t a virtue I’ve ever possessed.”
Javan had to admit he was intrigued. “How, exactly, do I assist you in your endeavor?”
“You see, Javan, I have a little faith, too. In you.”
Javan half-smiled at that statement. He liked having fans—especially ones as desirable as Cecily. His own smile prompted one from her that seemed Knowing. He wasn’t sure how to interpret it, but it made him wonder how much she knew about him and what she might be up to. Before he could ponder the questions for very long, she continued.
“To be more precise … I have faith in you becoming the Destroyer.”
“Why do you think I’ll become the Destroyer?” he asked as nonchalantly as possible. Her assumption made him wary. He’d never verbalized his belief to her.
“I’ve seen that your reason for wanting the Book is to bring the prophecy to pass.”
He studied her intently.
“That is what you want the Book for, Javan. Don’t deny it.”
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