Authors: Christine Fonseca
Lacrimosa (12 page)
This angel.
“Hello,” I say as I approach.
She looks down, shy.
And even more irresistible.
“I’m new here,” I say, tripping over my words. “I work on the Stubbe farm, keeping things in order when Mr. Stubbe is away.”
She stays silent.
“My name is Adam.”
Her face flushes as she steals a glance.
“What is your name?”
“Elle,” she says, her voice barely audible.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite get that.” I have to hear her voice again.
“Oh,” she whispers. She lifts her head and looks at me. “My name is Elle.” Our gaze meets and I’m locked in a sacred moment, just the two of us. Her eyes search mine and I wonder if she knows what I am. But it isn’t my wings or my glowing skin she seems to see. It’s my soul—the part of me I show no one.
In that second I know. . .
I will never forget her.
I scroll through the times Elle and I shared, still unsure if Nesy could really be her. But even as I try to find a way to convince myself it isn’t true, I know the truth.
Nesy and Elle are the same person.
And things just got complicated.
Too complicated.
Chapter 15 – Moral Obligation
Nesy
My life as a Watcher was nothing like it should have been. Taking human form was so different from what I’d expected, what I was prepared for. To begin with, I’d never imagined I could forget being an angel. I never thought I’d fall in love. And I certainly never expected to be murdered.
Mikayel saved me from that life. Just as he’d saved me during my training as a Sentinal. He seemed to understand the permanent stain the human emotions had left on my soul. Understood the nightmares that plagued me during those first centuries—the time before I learned to master my weaknesses. Before I learned control.
His teachings had helped me in ways I could never quite express. Ways that forever defined…
Me.
And now, as my weaknesses, my flaws, resurface and my emotions unravel, I realize the truth.
I never mastered anything. I
am
damaged. Broken.
And I always will be.
I shake my head and shove aside my self-pity. This is not the time to wallow. Broken or not, I’m still a warrior.
I just need to remember everything that means.
I abandon my shame and push through the vortex into Celestium. The entire landscape glows like a prism in the sun. Streaks of emerald, indigo, ruby and gold dance around the sky. Inhaling deeply, I reach for the calm that always flows into me at home.
But I find no solace this time. Neither the love of my realm, nor the peace that surrounds me can dislodge the rock of fear growing in my stomach.
“Come on,” Zane urges. “They’ll be waiting for us.”
“You mean me,” I correct, my voice as shaky as I feel.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. Just answer their questions and keep the whole ‘I can’t control my emotions’ thing to yourself,” Zane says.
If only it were that easy.
I walk into the massive Council chamber with my friends. Large bronze doors carved with intricate reliefs of angels and demons greet us. The doors open and we pause.
Cass squeezes my hand, Zane nods, and we begin to walk into the enormous room.
“Just Nesayiel.” Mikayel says, his voice echoing off the gilded walls. “We will speak with you two in a minute.”
I inhale my fear and step forward. I have no answers to the questions they’ll no doubt ask. No way of explaining my mistakes, my feelings for the UnHoly.
I tuck my concern behind my warrior’s façade and hide every emotion.
Time to face my fate.
The chamber itself is large, adorned with pictures of angels—Mediators, Anointed, Guardians, Sentinals. Every painting is depicted in amazing detail. They shimmer, giving the illusion of movement.
A lone golden chair sits in the center of the room. It faces a large alter with four majestic thrones. And in the thrones, the four I am most terrified to see. Gabriel, Raphael, Sariel, and Mikayel. The Council Elders. They rise as I enter the chamber, cold and detached. All except for Mikayel, whose anger is almost palpable. He glares at me, slicing through my mask and into my soul. There is little I will be able to hide from him.
Blazes.
“Good, you’re here,” Gabriel says, directing me to sit.
“I came as soon as Raphael requested.”
“But the question is why didn’t you come earlier? Why did I have to send someone for you?” Mikayel frowns, his voice hard.
“I don’t think I understand.”
“Then I’ll clarify.” Mikayel looms in front of me. “Why haven’t you reported? Why does your assignment remain unfinished? And why didn’t you report your encounter with the Dark One?”
I clench my jaw and force myself to focus. “You know about Azzaziel?”
“Of course I know,” Mikayel bellows “The point is
you
should have been the one to tell me.”
Guilt covers me. I hate seeing my master so enraged, hate knowing I’m the reason for it. “I just thought—” The words die on my tongue. How could I possibly explain this away?
Gabriel stands, placing a hand on Mikayel. “I think what concerns us, Nesayiel, is that you have never once broken protocol.”
I feel Gabriel push into my thoughts. Feel them all enter my mind. I can’t resist. I must grant them access or face their wrath.
“When you failed to report Azzaziel’s presence, failed to secure the UnHoly on two separate occasions, we became...concerned.” Gabriel waits for me to respond. His gentle, relentless eyes lock with mine.
The Council examines my thoughts, searches my feelings.
My heart beats once, twice, three times before my mind becomes my own. I wait, breath held, for someone to say something. Anything. Some hint that my weakness, my shame, remains undiscovered.
“Perhaps it is best to send another team back with you.” Sariel looks to Mikayel.
They know.
“What do you think, brother?” Gabriel stares through me. “Shall we send another team? Just to make sure she can handle this.”
“That won’t be necessary.” I choke on my own words. Of course it’s necessary. I’m broken. “I can handle the UnHoly. I will finish this. I just need another chance.” I’ve never failed. And I refuse to start now. I won’t admit defeat. Not to the likes of
that
UnHoly.
Mikayel examines me with his gaze, questioning my abilities. “Two humans have died since you arrived. Not exactly confidence-inspiring.”
Raphael stands and joins Mikayel, both of them glowering at me. Nothing like being scrutinized.
“You’re ability to vanquish Aydan is not in question, Nesayiel. But with Azzaziel now part of the equation, additional help would be most prudent, would it not?” Raphael looks at my now-healed scar. “Especially given Aydan’s ability to find your weakness.”
“What weakness?” I don’t have any weaknesses. That is, if you ignore the whole I-can’t-control-my-feelings-around-Aydan thing.
“With your armor. Did he not burn your skin with his sword?” Raphael already knows the answer.
“He did.”
“Then he has somehow figured out how to evade your defenses. Perhaps a second team would—”
“Would not understand him as I do.” The words pour out of my mouth too fast. “I know how he fights. I know how to beat him, armor-penetrating sword or not.”
“And Azzaziel? What will you do if he discovers your presence? Engage him? Prove yourself by trying to defeat him?” Gabriel’s questions sear me with their truth.
I hate it when he does that.
I stare at the floor, my silence screaming every word I can not bear to say.
“You have three days. No more.” Mikayel stands next to me. “If Zanethios has not reported that you have completed your task, I will come myself. Regardless of the reasons for your failure. Do you understand?”
Mikayel’s threat steals the air from my lungs. He never comes unless an
angel
has committed a crime.
“Yes, Sir,” I manage to say.
“As for Azzaziel, you cannot defeat him. He is not your target. You are to track his movements only. Keep your true identity hidden from him. Once he knows what you are, he will try to persuade you to join him. Azza has been known to be very persuasive in the past. You can not risk falling to his words.” Mikayel’s expression relaxes and his voice lowers.
“Report in often. Let me deal with the Dark One. Not you. Am I clear?” His voice cracks.
“Yes, Sir.” I ignore my swirling emotions—fear, anguish, and shame—and leave the chamber, suffocating under the weight of Mikayel’s words.
And his expectations.
“So, do they know?” Cass whispers.
“They suspect.”
“Are you sure?” she asks.
“Yes. Mikayel said if I didn't finish this in three days, he would come himself.”
“That’s not good.” Zane's voice is barely audible.
“I know.”
“So, what are you going to do?” Zane asks
“My job.” I ball my hands into fists, desperate to leave the shrinking chamber.
“But can you?” Cass asks. Her words sound more like an accusation than a question.
“I’m not willing to risk everything because of my stupid emotions, human or angelic. I learned to control these feelings once, I just have to do it again. A Sentinal never gives in to feelings. Not ever.”
“Cassiel and Zanethios, please come in now.” Gabriel’s request holds none of the malice of Mikayel’s demand.
They
are obviously not in trouble.
“But you are no ordinary angel.” Cass whispers as she starts through the doors.
“I am what I’ve trained to be—a Sentinal.”
Chapter 16 – Answers Revealed
Nesy
I walk to the libraries of Celestium, my mind full of Mikayel’s threat and my failures. I have to find a way to finish this. I won’t disappoint my master, not after everything he’s done for me.
The archives are housed in a remote chamber, far away from the Council. I walk to the center of the small space flanked with private nooks. It looks empty. Perfect. I doubt my brethren would understand my need to know what happened so many centuries ago.
“Harahel, I know you’re here. You’re
always
here.” I wait for a response, wondering where the archivist could have gone. Harahel is the master of the libraries of Celestium. If there is anything to discover about Aydan, this is the place to find it. I pace across the floor, begging the documents to materialize in front of me. A pointless act. Only Harahel has the key. There is no way to gain access without his approval.
I just hope he’ll grant it.
I call for Harahel again, my confidence waning as the moments continue to click by. Mikayel’s words trickle through my thoughts again.
Three more days. Finish this or I will come and do it myself…
Mikayel never makes idle threats. If I fail again, I’ll be the one going to the Abyss.
Not going to happen.
I picture Aydan; see myself vanquish him as he burns in the eternal flames. The images tear through my heart and cripple me. Waves of nausea buffet against my body and my legs tremble. I grab the corner of the lone counter in front of me.
Relax. Breathe
. I attempt to start my breathing mantra, but it’s no use. Something about Aydan prevents me from doing what I must. Even thinking about hurting him fills me with an uninvited pain, as if I will die too.