Redemption, Book III of the Arotas Trilogy

by Miles, Amy

  “You’ve got a nice place here,” he says, pulling his robe up over his head. The heat from the new flames is stifling as he removes as many layers as he can while still remaining decent. He can’t imagine how unbearable it will be once it’s at full burn.

  Katia nods as she rises from the stone hearth, a warm blaze spilling forth. Three logs form a tepee over the metal grate. The kindling catches the lower portions of bark. She bends and shakes out of her coat, shrinking nearly half in size as she emerges from the bulky firs. She bustles about the kitchen, clanging pots together.

  “Sit,” she points toward the small seating area with a spoon as she carries a small pot over to the fire and places it on to heat.

  Gabriel follows her direction to a low wooden chair, covered in ratty quilts. A faint musty scent rises from the fabric as he gingerly sinks down, wary of its creaky design. The chair is far from comfortable but judging by the bench across from him, she has offered him the best seat in the place.

  Katia moves back to the pot. The contents slosh up the sides as she plops a few root vegetables into the thick soup. Gabriel scrunches up his nose at the hint of decay that greets him when he takes a breath.

  Not wanting to appear rude, he looks to his right, glimpsing a small bed behind a draped partition. The curtain is a patchwork of old cloth, more holey than whole. The threadbare quilt that covers the straw bed hardly looks thick enough to keep a person warm through the long winter months.

  In a single glance, he takes in the entire cabin. Bedroom sweeps into living room, which flows straight into the kitchen. It would only take him thirty steps to reach from one side to the next.

  Craning his head back, Gabriel realizes two lines of rope are strung across the cabin, just below the ceiling. Thermal underwear and other unmentionables drape down, drying in the heat of the fire. He looks away, hoping she didn’t notice his gaze.

  “You far from home.” He can tell it’s not a question from the knowing glint in her eye. She stirs the contents of her pot a couple more times before dipping her spoon into the lumpy soup, scooping out a bowlful.

  She offers him the bowl, her gaze expectant. Steam rises from the thick broth. He stares at the small potatoes, not quite coated enough to hide the wrinkly black skin. His stomach churns and he holds his breath. He offers Katia a smile, shaking his head as he moves to set the bowl on a side table, realizing too late that there is none.

  She smirks down at him, shifting her weight onto her right side as she crosses her arms over her chest. “No like?”

  He grimaces, trying to sign a full stomach. “Not hungry.”

  “Lie.” She laughs and grabs the bowl from his hand. She moves over to the bench and sinks back against the wooden frame. Crossing her legs in her lap, she digs into the soup with her fingers, plucking out a bit of the fatty mystery meat. Juice runs down her chin and she swipes it away with her sleeve.

  Gabriel rubs the back of his neck and averts his gaze, uncomfortable with the slurping noises she is making. As he looks around the sparse kitchen, he notices that Katia has two of every bowl, cup and plate. “You live here alone?”

  “Seneh.”

  “Excuse me?” His back stiffens as he turns to look at her, shocked that she would know the name of his guardian angel. The gruff, scarred angel doesn’t seem the type to mingle with humans much.

  “Seneh live here.”

  Gabriel rises swiftly to his feet and begins pacing. “I don’t understand. Is he here now?”

  “No.”

  He glances toward the window, catching tiny glimpses of moonlight through the shifting clouds. The snow has let up slightly, but a great wall of cloud is approaching. Katia was right. This storm is about to get worse. It looks like he’s on his own tonight.

  He turns back. “Where did he go?”

  Her shoulders rise and fall with an indifferent shrug. She slops a bit of stale bread into the dredges of her bowl and pops it into her mouth. “He come and go.”

  Gabriel grinds his teeth, annoyed at her cryptic answers. Isn’t Seneh supposed to be protecting him? And what about Elias? He has vanished again, with zero explanation. Shouldn’t Elias be preparing him for his next task?

  “Sleep tonight. Back tomorrow.” She rises, sets her bowl on a small wooden counter and sinks back down onto the creaky bench.

  She watches him closely, eyes wide with unspoken curiosity. He struggles to swallow back his anger. This isn’t her fault. “I’m not tired.”

  “Miss girl.” She stares at him, unblinking.

  “How did you know?”

  She smiles, ignoring his question. “Talk now.”

  Katia motions for him to return to his seat, so Gabriel relents and moves away from the window. He shuffles his feet, tugging on his ear as he delays speaking.

  He doesn’t want to talk about Roseline, especially not to a complete stranger. His guilt is still too fresh.

  “What’s there to tell? She needed me and I left her. End of story.”

  “She know.”

  “Knows what?” He can hear the uncertainty in his own voice. Who is this girl? How does she know so much about him?

  “You love. She know.” Her gaze is unflinchingly direct.

  Gabriel blows out a breath and leans back into the chair. The pillow behind his head is surprisingly soft and inviting. Even the heat from the flames has begun to die down a bit.

  As he stares into the dancing flames, he realizes just how weary he feels. “I sure hope so.”

  Three

  Roseline’s arms and shoulders are on fire. It’s been hours since she lost feeling in her toes, and her hands have gone numb now as well. Her energy is waning quickly, but she eases her head to one side, gently stretching her aching neck.

  She has no idea how long she has been hanging from this wall. Her wrists are manacled in old chains, reaching high above her head. Her ankles are similarly bound, turning her into a human X against this cold, roughly hewn stone wall.

  When she first came to, she was dazed and dizzy. As her senses returned to her, she realized the true nature of her captivity. The material that hangs over her body is scratchy against her skin. Holes have been cut for her arms and neck, the edging beginning to fray as she struggles against her chains.

  A shiny, black gossamer material was clinging to the metal, binding her. She was confused, but a few tugs on the chains immediately gave her an answer: angel hair. She knew she wasn’t getting out of this mess alone.

  Now, hours later, she groans in agony. A brilliant white light shines down from above, blinding her from seeing the other walls. The air in the room is close and stifling.

  Suddenly, Roseline senses a presence. As she peers into the shadows, she can tell something is lurking there. Its scent is dark and earthy, unlike anything she has ever come across before.

  It remains just out of sight, hovering on the edge of the shadow. She thinks she can see a tail swishing back and forth along the ground. Possibly an elongated mouth, similar to an alligators. The clacking of claws against the floor is unmistakable.

  “Who are you?”

  The creature sways. She searches for a telltale sheen to its eyes, but none appears. There is only darkness. A shiver of apprehension trickles down her spine.

  “What do you want from me?” Her chains clink as she tries to crane her neck back to follow the creature as it shifts to her far left.

  She feels increasingly vulnerable. She can see nothing more than a hulking form. The creature’s moves slowly, sluggish and yet there is something decidedly purposeful about them. As if she is being stalked. Roseline tenses as she realizes that is exactly what is happening. It is toying with her.

  “You can’t make me talk,” she insists, turning her face away.

  Raspy laughter rises from the shadows. “And yet you keep doing it.”

  “Yes, and now you are too.” She grins as her head swivels back around. She stares at the creature. “I’m sure Lucien didn’t send you to bore me to death.”<
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  There is the clatter of metal on metal as a silver tray is pushed out into the light. A wide array of clamps, scalpels, knives and other horrific utensils are spread across the top. Dried blood still clings to several of the sharpened tips.

  Roseline rolls her eyes in mock indifference. “Really? Is that all you’ve got? I’ve suffered far worse than those.”

  “Indeed.” She can see the massive head bobbing in agreement as it steps into the light, huge and hulking. Its skin is black and leathery and its eyes two lightless voids. The monster’s lips peel back into a leer, showing off powerful jaws riddled with teeth. “But you were fully immortal then. I think you will find that your ability to heal has…changed.”

  The hairs along her forearms rise as it hunches over the table, slowly running its claws over the tools. It hovers over a scalpel, turning its head to grin at her.

  She braces herself as the creature whips around and launches the scalpel at her. It plunges deep into the crook of her armpit. Her lips bleed as she bites down against the scream lodged in her throat. She refuses to give this monster the satisfaction.

  She bucks against the chains, nostrils flaring as she glares at the beast, defiant. Her skin feels flushed as she tries to ignore the pain. Her pulse thumps wildly in her ears as moisture clings to her eyelashes.

  The creature’s croaky laughter echoes around her as it rips the scalpel from her arm and stabs it through the palm of her right hand. She is feverish with need, aching to curl her fingers around its jaws and tear it in two.

  “See what I mean?” Its dank, moist breath washes over her face as it twists the blade in her hand. She kicks back against the wall, refusing to let so much as a whimper pass her lips. The stench of the creature’s breath curdles in her stomach.

  She stills her lungs as it leans in close and runs a single claw down her cheek. It tears through her flesh with ease. “I’m really going to enjoy breaking you.”

  She stares into the soulless eyes of her torturer. “You’re lucky I’m in chains.”

  It chuckles and slams its hand into her stomach, its claws extended. She cries out as it curls its fingers inward, tearing great gashes through her flesh. It retracts its claws and strikes repeatedly.

  Her head lolls forward as one jolt of pain melds into the next. She has no idea how long it takes for her to pass out. All she remembers is that the creature never asked her a single question.

  ***

  A shadow falls over Gabriel’s face. His hand strikes out and meets flesh in mid-air. “You left me,” Gabriel grumbles sleepily. His head aches, and his back is as stiff as the boards he slept on. He would be hard pressed to imagine a worse night’s sleep.

  Seneh smiles, releasing his hand. “Not for long. Katia took good care of you.”

  “She’s a stranger. You’re lucky I decided to follow her.” Gabriel groans as he pushes up onto a chair, his long legs protesting as they bend at the knee.

  The fire has burned low and the room is blissfully cool against his skin. Gabriel looks around, noticing Katia’s bowl has been washed and replaced on the shelf. The scent of her stew still lingers in the air.

  “No,” Seneh says, careful to keep his voice low. He looks to the small mound lying atop the bed, still fully clothed. Blonde hair spills over the pillow as a soft snoring rises and falls with her chest. “Family.”

  “Family?” Gabriel stares hard at his guardian. Only a couple days ago he would have been terrified to be this close to such an imposing man. The fading firelight illuminates his many scars, creating a shine on his shaved head. His lone braid of hair at his back falls over his shoulder, curling near his waist beside the broadsword he always carries.

  “Not mine. Yours.”

  Gabriel props his elbows on his knees, rubbing at the sleep that hides in the corners of his eyes. “This just gets weirder and weirder.”

  Seneh sinks onto the bench, his large frame making the wood creak loudly. He winces as Katia stirs, holding his breath until she settles back down before speaking again. “Lucien has fathered many children, Gabriel. Did you think you were the only one?”

  Gabriel stares at the curtained bedroom in a daze. “You’re saying she’s my sister?”

  “Half. Yes.”

  “She never told me,” Gabriel whispers. A strange fluttering sensation fills his stomach as Katia rolls over, restless but still dreaming.

  “That’s because she does not know. Her mother was not as lucky as yours was. She lived long enough to give birth but died later that night. Katia grew up an orphan on the streets of Moscow. Elias found her and gave her to me to raise and protect. She has lived out here since she was only twelve years old.”

  “That’s horrible.” Gabriel’s chest constricts as he considers how many other children grew up with stories much like Katia’s.

  Seneh shrugs. “It’s peaceful. She is safe here.”

  “But Lucien is dead. He can’t hurt her now, so why does she stay?”

  “Because this is her home.”

  Gabriel stares at Seneh in the dim light. The windows have begun to brighten as a new dawn approaches. He can see the smoke that still trickles from the chimney as it drifts past the window.

  The storm has blown over, leaving a new, fresh landscape beyond the walls of the tiny cabin. He thinks of what it might be like to live here. No people. No noise. No fear.

  Glancing toward Katia, he almost envies her the solitude of the mountains. “Do you visit her often?”

  Seneh nods. “When I am able. She is a good girl, kind and generous. You would like her.”

  “Does she know what you are?” Gabriel looks at him, curious.

  “Of course.” Seneh turns slightly and ruffles his feathers. “These are not easy to hide, you know.”

  Gabriel laughs, properly shammed from his lack of forethought. “No. I suppose not.”

  He falls silent, thinking over what Seneh told him. How many other brothers or sisters might he have out there? Are they like him? Half human? A hybrid?

  “Did he kill all of them?” He asks without looking at his guardian. His fingers clench atop his knees as he waits for the answer he fears will come.

  Seneh shakes his head slowly. “Some still live. We were not able to save them all.”

  “What happened?”

  The angel’s gaze drifts away, his jaw rigid. “Some were hunted and slaughtered in their homes. Others were taken.”

  “Taken?” Gabriel holds his breath.

  Seneh nods. “Humans are not the most patient of beings in the world. Some thought they could speed up the process of discovering the Arotas. Those…experiments did not go as planned.”

  Gabriel closes his eyes, pained at the thought of how many lives have been ruined by the evil schemes of Lucien Enescue. “And the ones who live. Are they like me?”

  “No.” Seneh shakes his head. The muscles in his bare chest ripple beneath his skin as he leans forward, staring long and hard at Gabriel. “There are none like you.”

  “Why?” Gabriel stares hard at the angel across from him. “What makes me so different?”

  “Roseline,” Seneh says simply.

  “What’s this got to do with her?” Gabriel articulates each word carefully to make sure there is no mistaking his determination to know the truth. The muscles in his jaw flinch as he clenches his teeth and waits.

  Seneh sighs. “I’ve said too much.”

  “No.” Gabriel leans forward and grabs hold of his guardian’s arm. “You haven’t said enough.”

  Seneh rises to his full height, but Gabriel doesn’t back down. He wants answers. No, he needs them.

  “Tell me.”

  “It is not my place.” Seneh’s expression is harried as he looks to the door, as if Elias might actually walk through at that exact moment.

  Gabriel releases his grip on the granite arm. He sinks heavily into the chair, throwing up his hands in despair. “Wait. That’s all I’ve heard since you guys came into my life.”

 
“I am sorry, young one.” Seneh’s gaze softens as he looks down at Gabriel.

  “Yeah,” Gabriel mutters, crossing his arms over his chest as he sighs loudly. “I know.”

  ***

  Warm breath tickles Nicolae’s face as he begins to stir. Sleep grips him, beckoning for him to return, but when a finger traces his bottom lip, Nicolae bolts upright. He cries out, pressing back against the wooden headboard as he comes face to face with Sadie.

  She smiles, kneeling beside him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Am I?” Nicolae blinks, swallowing roughly. “Seeing a ghost?”

  “No,” she shakes her head. “I’m real.”

  He reaches out to touch her, just to make sure he’s not still dreaming. Her skin is warm and kissed by the sun. Her lips are rosy and fuller than before, or maybe they were always that beautiful and he just never noticed. Her eyes are bright and wide, staring at him with curiosity.

  The slope of her neck seems more graceful, the contour of her arms more refined. His gazes travels lower, pausing at her chest long enough to make her chuckle. He flushes red and continues lower. He involuntarily reaches out to touch her stomach, where her torn shirt hangs open, heavy with dried blood. The skin is smooth, without blemish or scar.

  “Like what you see?”

  He gulps and meets her gaze, completely amazed by her transformation. “You’re stunning.”

  “It gets even better.” With a smirk, she places her hands on the mattress and flips backward. She does a full rotation before landing silently on her feet. The wooden floor moves with her weight, giving without a single sound.

  Nicolae leans toward the edge of the bed, staring wide-eyed at her crouched form. She rises slowly, smirking as she places her hands on her hips. “Impressive, huh?”

  He nods, mutely. He struggles to comprehend the beautiful creature standing before him. It’s almost as if her former beauty was slightly blurred, but now she has come into complete focus.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Amazing.” Her tone is higher, musical like Roseline’s. Nicolae feels himself being drawn from the bed to her side.