ForsakingEternity (11 page)

“Where is Ren?” A dull hollowness echoed inside Adam, a
sense of loss and finality he refused to accept.

Evangelos stood and moved to the bedroom window to look up
at the heavens, much the way Ren so often had.

“Renatus risked much to be with you, human. The Heavenly
Realm is not so forgiving of male being with male as those on this plane.”

“Hate to break it to you, but people aren’t that forgiving
toward gay men.”

“I know.”

Dizziness assaulted Adam and he lay down again, throwing an
arm over his eyes.

“Is he being punished?” How did God punish his angels?

“Ren must leave here.”

“I know.” Adam wanted to scream. His heart was being ripped
out of his chest. He put a balled fist on his breastbone, trying to hold off
the hurt, trying to hold himself together.

“He needs the covenant box. It is his duty to take it to the
Most High.”

“It’s his.”

“An easy concession for one who clung to it so doggedly.”

“Ren needs it. It’s his.” Adam squeezed his eyes tight and
hugged his arm tighter against them, hoping for a deeper blackness to envelop
him.

The silence between them was so complete that Adam could
hear the
clickity-clack
of a train’s wheels from the tracks some
half-mile away. He focused on that small bit of noise, the clatter of the
wheels and the forlorn wail of its horn, until it passed and faded into the
distance.

He tried to picture Ren as the soft, uncertain man he’d met
but all he could think of was how he’d charged into the office, wings
outstretched and sword in hand. A hero with wings of the purest white. Or
almost pure.

“Ren had a spot on his wing.”

“Yes.”

Adam didn’t realize he’d said it aloud until Evangelos
answered.

“Is that an angel thing? Do you have one too?”

Evangelos didn’t speak for a long time. Long enough that
Adam began to wonder if he would answer.

“I do not have one. I’ve never felt a deep enough love to
exchange feathers with another. Such a thing is rare and beautiful.”

“Ren…has somebody?” Adam’s sanity slipped another agonizing
notch.

“I cannot speak for the emotions of another, nor will I
share what I know of Ren’s private feelings.”

Part of Adam’s mind questioned what all of this meant. Ren
loved another, deeply enough to put a lasting sign of it on his body, and yet
he’d said he came to Adam free of commitment. The greater part of him was too
tired, his heart too battered, to try to figure out what it all meant.

“Why were you kissing me?” Adam didn’t need to look to know
the angel still stood by the window. His presence was a balm, soothing the raw
hurt of Adam’s broken heart. Would be he able to breathe when he was left
alone, or would the pain crush him?

“You were injured. An exchange of power burned off the demon
venom in your skin. You are healed and there is not a single mark to tell
anyone you were ever hurt.”

“I still hurt.”

The bed beside Adam dipped as Evangelos sat and a warm hand
covered the center of his chest. He squeezed his eyes closed tighter. He
couldn’t look, couldn’t bear to see pity in the angel’s eyes.

“Some hurts cannot be healed so simply and some injuries
leave scars that cannot be seen. I’m sorry. I cannot fix this for you, human.”

Heat built up under Adam’s lids until it overflowed,
spilling scalding trails over his temples and into his hair.

“Will I see him again?”

“I don’t know what will happen.”

“But he’s gone, isn’t he?” Adam moved his arm to study the
face of the angel, searching for something to give him hope.

“He’s gone. At your word he retrieved the box and returned
it to the Most High.”

Evangelos’ hand dropped away but he didn’t move as Adam
pushed himself up again. The two sat so close their shoulders brushed, so close
Adam could see his own pain reflected in the depths of the angel’s
compassionate eyes.

“Renatus wanted me to give you something.” Evangelos held
out his hand. A single snowy feather lay in Evan’s palm, its end curving gently
toward the ceiling. Adam’s heart ached. It was a pledge. A goodbye.

“Will you see him?”

“If he is willing.”

“Will you tell him I…” Adam couldn’t say the words. Not to
this one. Not when he’d never told Ren.

He took a shaky breath and let his head drop forward to rest
on Evangelos’ shoulder.

“I will tell him.” Warm lips brushed Adam’s hair and a hand
cupped the back of his head. “Sleep, human. Let time heal the pain.”

Lethargy seeped from that hand at his nape, washing him in
waves of exhaustion. He didn’t have the willpower or the desire to resist the
compulsion. He embraced the blackness and let himself sink into oblivion.

Chapter Eight

Ren sat atop a cliff overlooking the glory of unspoiled
Creation. The sunrise gleamed off granite mountainsides and the fall leaves
painted the valley below with vibrant color. But his mind was not on the beauty
before him. Even all of this could not soothe the turmoil within him.

He’d been wrong.

He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. While his understanding
of the defined Law and what the scrolls contained was correct, the box held its
own set of surprises—surprises which affected not only him but Dominicus as
well. There was no Law within. What it held was far more binding.

A covenant.

If only it had been a Law. He could have appealed to the
Most High for mercy. But the Most High had no authority in this covenant, not
without violating the free will of both man and angelkind.

This covenant was a contract between all of Heaven and
mankind, negotiated by the archangels and a human council of twelve just days
before the massacre at Nephil. The children, his daughter, had been part of the
covenant’s blood sacrifice. So had the humans he and the other fathers killed.
Once sealed by their blood, it could not be altered or overridden except by the
consent of both parties.

Not only was the pact unbreakable, but all humans and angels
were subject to it.

Adam was not exempt. He would be as culpable in breaking the
covenant as Renatus and pleading ignorance would not save him.

Meela had been right after all. He’d led Adam straight into
damnation.

The merest hint of sound behind him alerted that he was no
longer alone.

“Have you word?” Renatus held his breath, afraid to hear the
answer.

Gabriel did not speak as he took a seat beside Renatus. For
long moments the archangel stared over the valley with Ren, as if reluctant to
spoil such divinity with his news.

“I’ve taken your plea for mercy before the Host but they are
reluctant. To take on his share of retribution would mean they would heap their
curses on another angel instead of on a human. This is repugnant to them.”

“Is it repugnant to you as well?”

Gabriel didn’t answer and Ren turned to study his superior.
His face told Ren all he needed to know.

“It is. Did you convey this to the others?”

“As your counsel, I thought it best they understand what is
in your best interest.”

“No, as my counsel, it is your duty to make my wishes clear.
I want to take Adam’s punishment. He should not be held responsible for
breaking an agreement he did not even know existed.” Ren rose and marched a
half-dozen steps from the cliff before turning back to the angel. “I trusted
you. How could you do this, Gabriel?”

“How could I not? Do you have any idea what you are asking,
Renatus? By taking on Adam’s punishment, you would be sent to Hell, not as a
demon, but as a sacrifice. They will torture you, consume you piece by piece
until you have no power left within you, then they will wait for you to be
restored so they may return and feed on your spirit once more. Over and over,
Ren. There will be no end to what you suffer. Are you truly willing to do that
to save one human?”

Betrayal burning his soul, Ren looked past Gabriel to the
valley beyond once more. His eyes began to burn and the colors blurred,
blending together like so much spilled paint.

“I’d endure anything for him. Anything.”

Gabriel’s reluctant sigh spoke volumes.

“If you are unable to do this I will plead my own case. I
will not allow Adam to be harmed.”

Gabriel’s expression sharpened as he scrutinized Ren. “You
truly love him, don’t you? This isn’t misplaced guilt or that disgusting streak
of martyrdom you’ve been carrying around since the children were taken.”

“I do feel guilt. And sorrow, but that is not why I offer
myself. Adam is the heart of my being and I cannot simply stand aside and allow
him to be hurt. I love him too much.”

Gabriel nodded and a sad understanding came over his face.

“I’ll go and speak to them again, this time making sure they
know the full extent of your commitment to Adam.”

“Is there any word on Dominicus’ appeal?” Guilt trapped his
breath in Ren’s chest. Not only had he led Adam into danger, but now Dom could
lose the woman he’d fought so hard to save.

“Nothing official. They had a blessing from the Most High
and in light of that, all are reluctant to enforce the curses.”

“What is the Most High’s stance?”

“He is greatly sorrowed. His children are facing a grim
future. To ease their pain would contradict His own Law. Your desire to take
the burden of the human has moved him in his grief. He is in favor of your
proposal and yet he mourns you. He might not be able to withdraw the curses,
but His favor would speak to many.”

“And the humans?” The covenant wasn’t one-sided. The humans
had to agree to Ren’s proposal as well.

“Humans are more pliable. Leave them to me.”

The hint of smugness in Gabriel’s expression brought a
reluctant smile to Ren’s face.

“May I never have to argue a case against you, friend.”

The smile faded as quickly as it appeared. If his offer was
approved, he would never have the opportunity to argue any case. The concept of
an eternity in Hell became very real. Fear tightened his skin and his feathers
prickled.

Gabriel closed the distance between them and cupped Ren’s
face in his hands. “At one time I would not have worried about the outcome of
such a debate, but now you feel love. Your brilliant legalist mind is tempered
by compassion. If you were not set on this course you would be a staunch
advocate to those standing Judgment.”

Ren ducked his head and stepped back from Gabriel’s touch,
uncomfortable with the praise. He brought this on Adam’s head. He didn’t
deserve such high regard from the archangel.

“When word comes, I may be found in the Welkin.”

“You are visiting your daughter?” Gabriel’s surprise shamed
him. He should have visited the vault every day for the last seven thousand
years. Now he would never have another chance.

“I will be saying goodbye.”

“Ren, your courage and selflessness is beyond words. I will
beg for leniency.”

“Not at Adam’s expense. I will bear the full brunt of the
consequence and he will bear none. Swear it.” Demanding such a promise was a
slight to an angel’s honor, but Ren could not find it in him to apologize. Not
when Adam’s well-being was on the line.

“As I have already promised Renatus.”

The angel vanished, leaving Ren staring over the valley once
more. Taking a deep breath of the clean mountain air, he said his final goodbye
to Earth and left.

* * * * *

Much later, Ren materialized in the place to which Gabriel
called him. It was a nothingness the likes of which he’d never seen before. A misty
grayness enveloped him. The plane was featureless, giving no impression of
distance or solidity. The very ground on which he stood seemed as insubstantial
as fog.

The blankness made his eyes ache.

“Gabriel?” He turned in a slow circle, searching for his
superior. At least he thought he was turning. It was difficult to tell in the
disorienting void.

“Welcome, Renatus.”

Ren twisted, searching for the source of the voice. For a
long moment there was nothing, then Gabriel stepped out of the mists.

“I suppose
welcome
isn’t quite the word I should use
for this place, is it?” Gabriel looked around, his expression grim.

“Where are we?” Ren asked, confused. He’d never been here
before, never heard of its existence.

“We are in your own personal purgatory. I have but a few
moments to tell you of the outcome of the negotiations.”

“Adam?” Ren’s chest seized, his breath locked in his throat.

“Adam is safe.”

With those words, the air rushed back into Ren’s lungs until
he felt like he would burst. Adam was safe. Closing his eyes he sent up a
silent
praise be
. Whatever else Gabriel had to tell him meant nothing
after the reassurance his lover would come to no harm.

“Please have a seat and listen closely.”

“Have a seat where?” Ren waved his hand at the emptiness
surrounding them.

“Anywhere. Just sit. The plane will supply what is needed,
in this case a seat.” Gabriel sat, seeming to hover in midair.

Ren lowered himself cautiously, and a solid perch simply
became
under him.

“What exactly is this place? You said it was my personal
purgatory.”

“It has no name. It was brought into being specifically for
the purpose of fulfilling the terms of the agreement made with the humans. In
light of your plea, a proposal was taken before the human delegation to spare
Adam from the curses promised in the original covenant. They were in favor of
one of their own being spared. That part of the proposal was accepted with no
opposition.” Gabriel frowned in disgust.

“Do not look so irritated. The Host was also loath to spare
the human at the expense of one of their own. Protecting one’s own is
instinctual,” Ren reminded him.