Destroyed by Onyx (A Dance with Destiny Book 4) (35 page)

When sanity returned, he scooped her limp body against his chest and carried her back home.

Gabriel met him upon her balcony, furious. “What have you done?” he demanded. “Why did I feel her soul leave this plane?”

Raphael had fire smoldering in his golden eyes. “You had already taken her wings?” His words roared, echoing across the sky.

Gabriel blanched. “I took them when she drew her weapon, seconds before you kidnapped her.”

“What were you thinking?” Raphael yelled. “You heard what I said, to her and you both. Taking her wings without talking it through was wrong and I wasn’t going to let it happen like that. You knew my thoughts, Brother. You knew I wished to speak truthfully with her. She was Angel when I grabbed her and human when I released her from my arms.”

Gabriel was staring at her bloodied, lifeless form. “Why did she tear out her own throat?”

“I took her to the moon,” Raphael whispered, but bitter sobs broke through his words.

Daichi ran onto the balcony and snatched her to his chest. “Naga!” His mournful cry resonated through the heavens. “Naga, what have they done to you?” His knees buckled. He sat down upon the cold stone, cradling her in his arms.

Raphael hit his knees in front of them, reaching to wipe the blood from her cooling cheek.

“Touch her not, Angel.” The intense hatred in Daichi’s voice made Raphael jerk his hand back.

“Be calm. Ask Father to restore her.”

Gabriel’s soothing voice only made Raphael’s anger flare again. “Do you not think I’ve been doing just that this whole time? From the moment I saw her soul leave, I have been pleading for her.”

“What’s happening to her?” Daichi whispered.

The Archs turned, gazing in horror as the sparkling clear crystals upon her cheek slowly turned to rarest sapphires, radiant upon her colorless face.

Gabriel gasped. “No…”

“He has her,” Raphael whispered. “She cannot return because he holds her there. I have delivered her into the very hands I once sought to save her from.”

Daichi looked up at the terrified Arch. “Who holds her?”

“Apollyon,” Gabriel answered.

“No. He cannot have her.” Daichi grabbed Raphael’s tunic. “Slay me as well. Let me go to her and rescue her. Let me escort her to wherever she belongs. You cannot let him bind her in hell.”

“Look,” Gabriel said, awestruck.

The witnessing Angels watched as the crystals upon her chest turned to sapphires, and then the ones upon her shoulders as well. Tears slipped from Raphael’s heavenly eyes as the scarlet stains faded and new gemstones painted vibrant blue streaks upon her neck, covering where her nails had torn the flesh away.

“How is this possible?” Daichi sounded like a scared little boy. “If she is dead, why does her body change?”

“She hasn’t fully passed over to the Otherworld. She is yet in the Nether. Apollyon holds her there, keeping her from going where he cannot follow. And… keeping her from being able to return here. She is his prisoner,” Gabriel explained.

“But why does her color change?”

“Because, Daichi,” Raphael said. “Those are
his
marks, Apollyon’s. Where his sapphires bloom… that’s where he’s touching her, healing her. He was always blessed with such power, yet he chose not to use it. Only with her is he changed.”

“Touching her?” Daichi tore open her clothing just before the scar near her navel darkened.

This was the woman who had held him from birth. He knew where every sparkling scar was upon her body. And his heart sank with that knowledge.

“Do it now, Raphael!” Daichi tore at the Arch’s clothing. “Slay me and send me to save her before he claims her wholly.”

“It will do no good, little brother. He is too powerful for you to overcome, especially in the Nether. You will sacrifice your life for nothing. If Naga wakes only to find her Daichi has been slain, she will not be healed. She will slip back into the Nether and Apollyon’s arms, until the end of all things.”

Raphael’s words only added to the helpless tears dripping from the sapphire Angel’s chin, falling softly upon his only love’s cold cheeks. He carried her lifeless form and laid her gently upon the giant bed.

The three Angels stood vigil over a tiny woman they were powerless to help.

“Daichi, Brother, you have only ever known her thusly—painted sapphire scars and pink curls,” Gabriel said. “You were not privileged to see her when she was fair and golden and beautiful.”

“She has always been beautiful,” Daichi said. “I may not have seen her before she was Naga, back when she was the Jenevier
you
speak of, yet her thoughts were never hidden from me. I saw her, minus her glorious colors, within her mind.”

Raphael grunted out a laugh. “These glorious colors, as you call them, were all
his
doing, Apollyon’s. His blending changed her curls, her skin, and her eyes. The sapphires are only there to cover up the many horrible scars she received. Every single one of them was because of him. Every… single… one.”

“Not anymore,” Gabriel said. “The ones now sparkling upon her neck are—”

He abruptly stopped when Raphael shot him a scalding glare.

“Perhaps,” Daichi said. “Yet, the color of her curls denotes her affinity to her Dragons. They may have changed during her blending, but they were always meant to be thus.”

“Yes.” Raphael was speaking aloud, yet he sounded as if his words were meant for his ears alone. “Father let her true colors come forth during that glorious blending miracle. Yet, I still want to know. Why did it have to be with
him
? Why was
he
the one blessed with her innocent heart? He has done nothing but destroy and disobey since the day he was created. Why was he so blessed… Why? The lowliest of the light ones would have been better for her than the Prince of Darkness.”

Daichi smiled knowingly. “Because, Raphael, it was never meant to darken
her
. It was meant to lighten
him
. You see, Naga is who she is, whether her outside reflected it or not. Apollyon is the one who was changed. You have known him always, Brother. Have you ever seen him in such pain? Have you ever known him to be as completely miserable as he is now? No, you have not. A dark one such as him could never know
ultimate
pain. The kind of pain that comes from the heart—true pain, true misery, soul rending grief—a mother losing her child, a husband losing his wife, a son losing his precious mother. The kind of pain that stops the heart… yet accursed time just keeps ticking on, no matter how badly you wished it did not. He knows this pain now. He knows
exactly
what it feels like—the stabbing ache that never eases. He now knows loss, and sympathy, and regret, and hopelessness. That was the blessing Father gifted him when He allowed the blending with my precious Kagi Naga.”

“΄Tis true,” Gabriel whispered. “He can never hate as he once did. His heart is no longer in it. How can a being deal out misery when he’s completely consumed by love… and the loss of it?”

Raphael stared at her tiny, motionless body, tears blurring her image. “But… at what cost? She may be hell’s torment, but has she not suffered at least as much?”

“Yes, and such is life,” Daichi said. “The good with the bad, so often that’s the case. Alas, that is why I now draw breath. I was given birth through her grief, life from her tears. Now, as long as we’re together, she will be healed, whole, happy. Apollyon has no such hope. In truth, I almost feel sorry for him. To know an eternity minus that little Angel right there… I can imagine no worse hell.”

They stood staring at her silent form, but their minds were on joys and sorrows of the past.

“Look,” Daichi whispered, pointing at her. “Did you see that? I could have sworn her leg just moved.”

They watched intently as her muscles slowly began to twitch, electric impulses of life trying to awaken her cold, still form.

“She has been absent her body too long,” Gabriel warned. “Be on guard. This isn’t going to end well, for any of us.”

Daichi was horrified. The intermittent muscle spasms gradually gave way to full on seizures. He tried to go to her, hold her while she suffered.

Raphael held his arm up, barring the blue Angel access. “Hold, Brother. You don’t want to be too close. Trust me. Forget not, she is the Angel of Death, built to be lethal. Give her time to regain her bearing, to regain her mind. And give her adequate space so that you may keep your sickeningly beautiful head right where it is, upon your shoulders.”

Her body jerked upright as she inhaled noisily. Her black eyes were rolled up in her head. Her snowflakes could no longer be seen, just eerie, haunting blackness. The three mighty Angels flinched when she screamed out the name of the Prince of Hell. It echoed and rang throughout the gilded palace halls.

“Naga! Naga!”

When Daichi called out to her, those wild black eyes locked on him. Yet, there was no hint of recognition in them.

Chapter 36

Shamsiel

(SHAM-she-eel)

Once again, Apollyon was left on his knees, empty-handed, sobbing bitterly, openly.

I am supposed to be the Prince of Hell, yet I wallow in my own personal one
, he thought.
At least she returned to the realm of the living. There is yet hope. I may see you again one day, my love, my Jenevier.

He wiped his eyes and looked around to see if anyone had witnessed him losing his lovely wife, and then his composure.

The Nether was a vast terminal of sorts. Jeweled streets ran this way and that—multiple pathways leading to many Otherworlds. Hell was but one of them. This was the neutral grounds, the place where the blessed and the damned both passed through. The depot stop after death. This was the only spot where the light ones and the dark ones crossed paths without conflict. Each Angel passed through the Nether, escorting certain souls to their final home. There was a truce surrounding the place. All beings, no matter their affinity, held it as sacred, hallowed ground.

How is it she came to be here unaccompanied? A creature as rare as she… you would think Michael himself would meet her here, happily escorting her away from me, forever.

Apollyon was lost in thought when he beheld amethyst locks pass through the edge of his vision.

Ahriman? What’s he doing here? Never have I seen him escorting. We must be gaining a rare soul indeed for him to venture within the Nether. Perhaps he has finally obeyed my commands and slain the vile Guardian witch, Valencia. Good. I want to witness her mournful journey through this place. I want to see the look on her face as she draws the last sweet breath she will ever know before I receive her within my realm. We have much to discuss, she and I.

He followed the same path his soul-eating general had taken; almost giddy with the thought of avenging his torment upon one as fair as a Vanir… especially this particular Vanir.

Where is he going? What in the Underworld does he think—

Apollyon stopped short when he realized Ahriman wasn’t here to greet anyone. He was simply using the Nether to access another realm, a realm he had no business entering.

I told him not to return until he had found Jenevier’s betrayer. Until he could bring me the rotten soul residing within Valencia’s lovely vessel. Why would he be going to Sheol, of all places? Valencia is neither Angel nor Nephilim. She wouldn’t be granted access to that accursed place.

*****

Ahriman entered Sheol, unaware his presence had been noted by anyone other than the waiting fallen-one who had summoned him, Shamsiel.

He grabbed Ahriman’s shoulder as the soul-eater passed by the once mighty Angel. “Where is she? And do not lie. I felt her presence. I saw her colorless, trembling form. Why do you not escort her to me?”

Ahriman stared at him, puzzled. “Who do you speak of? Jenevier?”

“Of course that’s who I speak of,” Shamsiel snapped. “Have I ever spoken to you of anyone else?”

The furrow in Ahriman’s brow deepened. “I caught up with her upon the fifth layer, planted my dark gift deep within her. Yet, she lives. How is it you say you felt her? With whose eyes did you look upon her?”

“I felt her soul trembling not far from the same spot where you just entered this realm. She was minus her golden curls, but there’s no mistaking. She was there, the Angel whom I desire.”

“Oh, but you
are
mistaken,” Ahriman said. “If she were dead, I would know it. If that sweet Angel parted from the realm of the living, the tiny sliver of a heart she gifted me would burst to flames within my chest.”

Shamsiel snarled threateningly. “Did you touch her, soul-eater? Did you lay your filthy little hands upon mine Angel?”

Ahriman matched his jealous rage. “I have touched her every chance I could. From the moment she strolled into hell, have I touched her. Do not think your worthless threats will stop me. There’s not a creature in existence that could stay my hand when I am near my blessed little Angel. She is the only woman I would never force. Yet, I will know her, just the same. I am her friend. She trusts me. Nay, she loves me. Upon meeting, she freely confessed her physical desire for me. Neither of our hearts have changed in that regard. There is an undeniable pull between us that mere words could never adequately justify. It may be dark, it may be forbidden, but it’s there… alive and irrefutable.”

Someone noisily cleared their throat. Ahriman spun back toward the Nether… and saw him.

Apollyon was leaning against the stone wall marking the entrance to Sheol. Arms lazily crossed over his chest, he was casually staring at the perfect fingernails on his right hand.

When the conspiring Angels couldn’t find their tongues, the Prince of Hell glanced their way.

“How very interesting,” Apollyon said. “I didn’t know you two were so close. I had no idea. I feel slighted, Brothers. Was my invitation to your little tea party lost in transit? I can understand. It seems that lately important messages have the most damnable time making their way to and from hell. Or perhaps your secret little chitchat was never meant for my ears.”

“My Liege.” Ahriman regained his composure and began speaking as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “I haven’t had the pleasure of taking the she-Guardian’s life. Yet I
did
happen upon your beloved. It seems a jealous Elf tried to steal her magic, leaving Jenevier as but a pale shadow in the process.” He dutifully crossed his fist over his chest and bowed low.

“Is that so?” Apollyon strode purposefully toward the lying dark Angel. “Did you happen to forget who I am, good Ahriman? Has your extended absence from my side caused your mind to deceive you?”

“No, Sire. Of course not.”

Apollyon raised one sapphire brow. “Then how is it you presume to bear false tongue to the Chief of Liars?”

“But, Sire, I speak only the truth. Jenevier roams about the layers, minus her color and her mind. The treasured mother of your glorious sons is but—”

“I have only
one
son,” Apollyon interrupted him. “That sapphire Blessing of hers is not
of
me. Nay, he’s not even
of
her.”

“Yet he is
for
her.”

Shamsiel’s cutting words earned him a vicious glare from the wickedly beautiful Prince of Hell.

“Sire, he is no longer her Blessing,” Ahriman said. “He no longer stands by her side. I heard her unbind him with mine own ears.”

Apollyon ignored the soul-eater as he took another step toward the auburn-crowned fallen Angel of Sheol.

“Tell me, good Shamsiel. How is it you come to know of my enchanting wife, mother of my precious son? What business do you have with them?”

“Apologies, oh mighty one,” Shamsiel said mockingly. “I had heard she was no longer your wife. I suppose the rumors about Father withdrawing the very manacles He had once bestowed Himself must have been nothing more than idle tongues. They’re the devil’s workshop, you know—idle tongues.”

Apollyon gracefully ignored the blatant smirk upon the fallen Angel’s lips and turned toward his right-hand warrior. “I did not accuse you of bearing false tongue concerning my…
Anicee
.” He cut a fierce glare toward Shamsiel and then casually looked back to Ahriman. “I was speaking of Valencia. You may not have taken the pleasure of ending her life. Yet I see clearly within you. You have taken pleasure with her,
much
pleasure. Your magical eyes still sparkle with the memory of her exquisite screams, while you
pleasured
her.”

Ahriman felt the weight of his Prince’s smoldering wrath and wisely held his tongue.

“Tell me, Prince Apollyon.” Shamsiel couldn’t let go of his insatiable curiosity concerning Jenevier. “I am startled at your use of the term. Anicee is of the ancient tongue. There was no more powerful word to describe a blessed soul-mate.”

“Do you seek to give me lessons, good Shamsiel?” Flames leapt in Apollyon’s breathtaking eyes. “Forget not. I am
the
ancient. I spoke the words before your pitiful form was even given breath.”

“Yes,” Shamsiel continued. “You are indeed ancient. Let us see if you are as wise as your many years would suggest, mighty Prince. Tell me. How can light blend with darkness and remain light? How can you still believe your soul capable of truly bonding with one such as hers? It was but a fleeting dream, Brother. One which Father used to torture you. How can you not see that? How can you live since before time even was… and not see the truth of your torment?”

“Please, dear Shamsiel, continue to enlighten me on the trials of my heart,” Apollyon said. “You seem so well versed with my plight, little brother. Do go on. I am fascinated to know exactly how it will all end. I was unaware of your exquisite omnipotence. How very lucky for you.” The darkest of Princes winked at the fallen Angel of light before turning back to Ahriman. “You are sorely mistaken, tiny little soul-eater. She has not the power to unbind her Daichi. Father made him especially for her. She can no longer live without him. No matter her talents, she has not the power to release him from his only purpose.”

Shamsiel snorted out a laugh. “Then how can one, even one as beautiful as you, dear Prince, ever hope to compete or compare with an Angel crafted by Father to ultimately complete her?” He held Apollyon’s glare and didn’t back down.

Ahriman kept his head bowed as he spoke. “Sire? How is it Princess Jenevier came to be in the Nether?”

“If you were out doing as I had commanded, perhaps
you
might hold the needed answer,” he hissed.

“I saw her on Val Hal, yes,” Ahriman continued. “She was minus her glory and most of her memory, but nowhere near death. She kept company with the Vikings and Celts. One of them even loved her, of course.” He mumbled that last part. “She was tracked down there by her Guardians and her sapphire twins.”

Shamsiel chuckled. “So, her son is blue like his father, and her Blessing the mirror image? Could this possibly get any better?”

“Tenshi looks like his father, our Prince,” Ahriman continued. “Yet his eyes are the color of polished steel reflecting the sun.”

“Why do you speak to this Sheol dweller of my family?” Apollyon asked the soul-eater. “Of what concern is my son or my Anicee to him?”

Shamsiel ignored Apollyon’s questions and continued pressing the rattled, silver-eyed Angel. “And you say her Blessing looks the same as well? Glorious steel eyes and all?” He laughed mockingly. “So, she gets the best of both worlds, doesn’t she now? Your Anicee can bed your likeness anytime she chooses. Yet
he
is light and love and heaven. Why would she ever choose to be embraced by night and fire and hell?”

“Ah, you are so blind,” Apollyon said, chuckling. “How is it you are Angel yet you cannot see past the flesh? That was your downfall, good Shamsiel, was it not? Yes, and it continues to be your greatest weakness. My eternity is set, as is yours, Brother. Not so with my lovely Jenevier. I surrendered any hope of being with her so that I could ensure her freedom from Shabriri’s vile torture. I willingly gave up
everything
, just to see her safe and happy. That is what her Daichi now ensures. How could I be jealous of a creature made solely to guarantee her eternal happiness? It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted—her happiness.” He turned then to his silver-eyed warrior. “Ahriman, I know not what you and this cursed father of a wretched Nephilim are plotting. But I do know the Archs are wise to you if it is concerning Jenevier. When I held my beloved in my arms, I could smell Raphael’s disgustingly sweet scent upon her hair. He favors her, that one. And she spoke of Uriel as well.” His eyes danced when Shamsiel blanched at the name of his former commander. “She knew nothing of Angels when we parted. Begged knowledge of them, she did. I rightfully warned her away from such creatures. Yet, now she walks with the greatest among them. Mind your deceitful steps, little brothers. She has gained powerful allies. Ones who could lay you both low.”

Ahriman’s voice was only slightly louder than a whisper. “Munenori helped Daichi and the Guardians. He was there with them on Val Hal.”

“Munenori is of no consequence,” Apollyon said. “She is now the Empress of Jinn, is she not? He is but her mentor and sensei. Nothing more than her Senpai, I’m certain. It is
his
realm, after all, thus his duty to train and protect her.”

Shamsiel snickered. “And forget not—he is one of the few Angels allowed to strengthen races. Mmm… What I wouldn’t give for a talent such as that. What a lucky little creature he is. And quite good at his job, from what I hear.”

“What is
that
supposed to mean?” Ahriman hissed, obvious jealousy dripping from his words. “What do you accuse my Princess of?”

“Oh nothing, perhaps,” Shamsiel said with a sneer. “Just curious, that’s all. But… I can’t help but wonder if her next son will have raven locks and magical purple eyes.”

“Ahriman,” Apollyon snapped. “You have your orders, none of which require you to enter Sheol. See to them. Or find yourself bound to a place I promise you will not like. Actually, I will make damn sure of it, personally.”