Wicked Nights (Angels of the Dark) (41 page)

Zacharel jerked the towel from the rack at the back of the stall and wrapped the material around Annabelle, unconcerned by the fact that the water would soon soak it.

“Stay here,” he told her, then exited to deal with the latest disaster. And he knew it was a disaster. Nothing else would have brought his warrior here.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

A
NNABELLE
HEARD
MUFFLED
MALE
voices as she searched the bathroom for something to wear. What she found was two washrags and another towel. Not exactly appropriate attire for a meeting with angels. But if she had to pretend dishrag was the latest style, she would. She wouldn’t remain in here like a shameful secret.

Zacharel must have sensed her growing frustration and determination, because he opened the door, peeked inside, winked and tossed in a robe before once again disappearing.

She sighed dreamily, still reeling from what she and Zacharel had done and admitted to each other. Oh, she’d already realized he’d fallen in love with her, but there was something so magnificent about hearing the words. Of knowing, beyond any doubt, that she, Annabelle Miller, had tamed such an exquisite animal. An ice-cold warrior that possessed a streak of carnality that, once unleashed, would never again be caged.

Shaking, she tugged the white material over her body and exited the bathroom.

“—have found Unforgiveness,” Koldo was saying.

Her gaze immediately sought Zacharel. He, too, wore a robe. Lamplight gilded his exposed skin, her angel now a golden statue of perfection and might.

Zacharel watched her rather than his soldier and motioned her over. But apparently standing at his side wasn’t close enough, because he wound his arm around her waist and tugged her so close they practically melded together.

When neither man seemed inclined to restart the conversation, she decided to do it herself. “So where is Unforgiveness and what’s the game plan?”

A beat of tense silence, then, “Hell,” Koldo announced. “He is in hell, and he claims he will release you from his bond if Zacharel agrees to fall.”

Ice thickened Annabelle’s blood, scraping against her veins, stinging. “No way. Just no way.” He would lose his immortality. He would lose his ability to see—and fight—demons. But they wouldn’t lose their ability to see and fight him. “He’s not falling.” To Zacharel, she added, “You’re not falling. Why would the demon want you to fall, anyway?”

“I’ll be easier to kill, less a thorn in his side. But you do not get to decide this for me, Annabelle.”

“You’d be the stupidest man ever to live if you agreed to this. He’s lying. You know he’s lying. He’ll never willingly release me.” That was just a guess on her part, but one thing she knew: demons were incapable of telling the truth.

“For a chance to free you, I would do anything.”

“No!” The fact that Zacharel would even consider falling upset her. Any other girl probably would have jumped with joy, because such a sacrifice proved beyond words that her man loved her. But Annabelle wasn’t any girl, and she knew everything falling would entail. Not just Zacharel’s ruination, but his men’s, too.

He would never be able to forgive himself. He’d already lost his brother, and the fact that he’d been the one to render the final blow was a constant dagger inside his chest, eternally chafing, never allowing him to heal.

“We’re wasting time,” she said. “I want you to go to your Deity—and not fall!”

“So what would you have me do?”

“Ask him to do something, I don’t know, powerful. Mighty.”

He shook his head, dark hair dancing at his temples. “I am due punishment, not aid. Besides, all he can do is grant me permission to enter hell, and that will do us no good.”

“Punishment?” Her heart skipped a beat. “Why?”

His hold on her tightened, his way of saying,
Not now, woman. Later.
In answer, she pinched his hand. Her way of saying,
I won’t let this go, angel.

She twisted, cupped his cheeks and forced him to peer down at her. “Remember what we talked about?” she asked, letting the words
locking Unforgiveness away
remain unsaid. “Why it’s so important to go that route? So talk to your Deity, okay? Please. He gave you an army, a promotion. Angry with you or not, there’s got to be something more he can do.”

He opened his mouth—to protest, she knew.

“If you don’t, someone else might find and defeat Unforgiveness.” If that happened, she would die, and Zacharel would blame himself
.

Indecision played through his eyes, now a stormy jade. She was manipulating him, and she knew it, but she didn’t know what else to do. She would rather he fought Unforgiveness than lose everything.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he said.

“Please, Zacharel. Do this for me. For us. Koldo will stay with me.”

He massaged the back of his neck. “Very well. I will talk to the Deity, but I cannot promise a favorable outcome.” His gaze slid to the tall, strong warrior beside them. “Stay here. Guard her. I won’t be gone long.”

Yes!

Koldo nodded.

“I love you,” Zacharel said, and kissed her.

“I love you, too. So much.”

He paused for a moment, as though he couldn’t bear to leave her, then flared his wings and leapt through the air, through the ceiling, disappearing from view.

“Do you hope I will kill you while he’s gone?” Koldo asked. “Is that why you sent Zacharel away? You are bound to Unforgiveness, and by dying, you will kill the demon and save Zacharel in every sense of the word.”

“I hadn’t been, no.”

“Why not?”

“Because Zacharel would blame himself—and you.”

“There are ways to ensure he never knows what happened.”

“Are you threatening me?”

A shrug of those wide shoulders.

To save Zacharel from falling, she would do just about anything. Even die. Zacharel would blame himself no matter what Koldo said, and he would mourn her, but he would live a long life. All in all, that seemed like a fair trade. He would continue to lead his men. Eventually he would meet another woman—Annabelle disliked her already—and rediscover love, heal.

“How did you know I was bound to the demon, anyway?” she asked. She’d only just figured it out herself, and she’d told no one. Nor had Zacharel.

He ignored her question. “Just so you know, a simple stabbing will not kill you, female.”

“Hey, no one said anything about stabbing!” she said with a frown. But if she did this, how would she go?

“But you are willing to sacrifice yourself for Zacharel?”

“Of course.”

“Even fight Unforgiveness?”

“Especially that. Why do you want to know?”

Again, he ignored her question. “Even if Unforgiveness will hurt you before he kills you, yes?”

“Yes, but I could totally win, you know.”

“No, you could not.”

She flexed her biceps. “Do you see these things? I so could.”

“You could not win with those. It would take something else. Something I am not sure you possess. So why are you willing to risk yourself?” he asked, head tilting to the side. “I do not understand.”

Easy. “I love Zacharel, and I want to protect him from harm—even harm he would bring himself. I don’t know if he told you about his brother…?”

A sharp cut of his head in negation. “He did not tell me, but we all know of Hadrenial’s death.”

But did any of them know exactly
how
Hadrenial had died? If not, she wouldn’t be the one to tell, so she settled with, “The loss nearly ruined him, and he still struggles with feelings of responsibility and remorse. If he falls, his army—
you
—will be forced to fall with him, and he won’t be able to live with that.”

A hard frown greeted her words. “No. He would have told us.”

This
she would have to tell, because it was the only way to make Koldo understand. “He was given charge over you, and his fate will be yours. All of yours.”

“How do you know this?” Anger pulsed from him, as sharp as a blade.

“He told me, and you know he doesn’t ever lie.”

A moment passed in silence. He nodded, as if he’d just made a decision. “You are very brave, Annabelle.” It was the first time he’d ever used her name, and that he’d laced his tone with such respect nearly floored her. “Perhaps you do possess the extra something.”

In the corner of the room, she spied movement, glanced up and nearly screamed. A serpe was coiled in the far corner of the ceiling, watching.

Fight-or-flight kicked in—and fight won. She braced her legs apart and fisted her hands, ready.

But all the demon did was hiss at her, then at Koldo, and slither away.

“Wait here. I shall return, and you shall have what you desire,” Koldo said—and vanished.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Z
ACHAREL
WAS
SURPRISED
by the ease with which he was granted an audience with the Deity, especially considering the recent turmoil in the heavens. Usually, even angels who had been summoned here had to wait.

The day of punishment had arrived.

He’d known his recent actions would get him in trouble and he hadn’t cared. Still didn’t. Annabelle had become the most important part of his life, and he would endure the worst of the worst for her.

At least most of the damage done to the temple had been cleaned away, the grass and flowers tended, the rivers purified. Blood no longer decorated the walls or steps. Lysander’s army formed a gate around the edge of the perimeter, stopping anyone who approached.

All but him, that is. He sailed through with only a nod of affirmation. He landed on the last step, striding forward without a hitch. To his surprise, Lysander met him at the huge, arching doors and entered alongside him. With his pale hair, dark eyes and wings of the most magnificent gold, Lysander was the standard most angels were measured against. Beauty personified, once cut from the same emotionless cloth as Zacharel.

“You were expected,” his friend said, voice echoing through the foyer. The domed ceiling was not painted to resemble the night sky, but actually revealed it. Stars twinkled from their black velvet perches, so close stardust danced through the air like diamonds.

He tried not to let the announcement rattle him. Gaze on a thick column comprised of shimmery crystals, smoothed and polished to reflect all the colors of the rainbow, he said, “I’m…sorry I left you to defend the temple.”

Lysander slapped his shoulder. “When your woman has need of you, nothing else matters. This I know well.”

He could only hope the Deity felt the same way. They rounded several corners and finally came to another set of doors. The large, arching entrance was guarded, for it led straight into the throne room.

“Any advice?” he asked.

“You are a good leader, with sharp instincts,” Lysander said. “Trust yourself, and you’ll come out of this just fine.”

The two angel guards, bigger and taller than most, threw open the double doors and Zacharel strode past without his friend. The room was emptied out, no guards, no orchestra, no decorations, only a solid gold throne on top of the dais.

Upon that throne sat the Deity, and as usual his appearance amazed Zacharel. He looked as innocent and frail as an aged human, with deeply lined skin, silver hair and shaky hands.

Zacharel bowed his head and dropped to his knees, his wings tucked into his sides. Of all the meetings he’d had here, this was the most important, yet he had no idea how to begin.

“I am surprised you came without a summons.” The unassuming voice was soft and gentle.

And yet you expected me, anyway.
“I need your help.”

“And you expect me to give it?”

“I know I’ve done wrong, but I will not apologize.” He would never offer a token apology again. Like Annabelle, he would stand for what he believed in and never back down. “I did what I had to do to protect my woman, and I would do it all over again.”

Eyes of the deepest black swirled, oil glistening in the sun. “Did I hear you correctly? You’ll do
anything
to protect a human?”

He nodded. “My human.”

Trembling fingers tapped against a weathered chin. “You say that now, but I wonder…. You thought you would come here, state your case, ask for what you desire, and that would be that. Well, once upon a time, I would have allowed such a thing. But no longer. I cannot baby you forever.”

Baby? “I am a warrior,” he said, squaring his shoulders. “I know I am due several whippings first, and I willingly accept them.”

“You are due, yes. You took responsibility of Annabelle, and yet you allowed harm to come to her on more than one occasion. You even caused her harm yourself. Then you sat back as
she
harmed others.”

“Yes. And I accept whatever you decide to do, but I ask that you help me, too.”

A pause.

Such a thick silence.

Then, “You desire my help with Annabelle even though she is a demon’s consort?”

“She is not a demon’s consort,” he gritted out. “She is mine.”

Unperturbed, the Deity continued on, “And you wish for me to help you challenge the demon who thinks to take her from you.”

“A demon who has harmed many humans in his quest to reach her.”

Another bout of silence, just as thick but now so heavy Zacharel’s shoulders drooped under the weight.

“Much has changed for you since we last spoke,” the Deity said.

“Yes,” he repeated. His heart drummed erratically.

“Tell me, Zacharel, what you have learned.”

This, he did not have to think about. “I have learned the value of human life. I have learned the value of love and commitment. I have learned to place another’s needs before my own.”

“Have you truly?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s find out, shall we. Tell me, Zacharel. Would you sacrifice yourself for your Annabelle?”

So casually asked, but with the Deity, there was always a purpose. “I would.” No question.

“Would you sacrifice something dearer even than that? Would you sacrifice your brother’s life to save her?”

He frowned. “My brother has no life to give. He is dead.”

“No. He lives.”

Zacharel…had no response to that. Like the angels, the Deity would not lie. That meant… That couldn’t mean… Could
only
mean…

“True death is not what you think, angel. A spirit cannot die.”

“But the Water of Death—”

“Is not what you think, either. Your brother is alive. He survived.”

Hope filled him. Joy filled him. So fervently had he prayed for something like this. “More than the water, I also burned his body.”

“And his body was put back together.”

Hadrenial was alive!

They could be together, he thought. They could fly together. Talk and laugh. His brother could meet Annabelle, and they could be a family. They
would
be a family.

“I ask again,” the Deity said. “If both Annabelle and your twin stood before you now, if you could only save one life, whose life would you choose?”

In a single heartbeat, his hope withered. His joy fled. “Why would you ask me to make such a choice? As punishment for my crimes?” he asked, stomach twisting painfully.

“You have hurt several humans though you knew better. You saved a human at the risk of your own life. You are due both a punishment and a reward.”

A punishment and a reward. He could have his brother, or he could have Annabelle, but not both. Hadrenial, the most beloved of the angels, so pure of heart, so caring and kind, Zacharel had been humbled. Or Annabelle, who was just as caring and kind. Hadrenial, whom he had missed with all of his heart. Annabelle, whom he craved with the whole of his body. Hadrenial, whose life was cut short by torment and tragedy. Annabelle, who challenged and confounded him at every turn.

“And if I cannot choose?”

“Then I will choose for you, for there cannot be life without death, or action without consequence. This you know.”

His hands fisted. “What of me? Take my life, and allow the pair of them to live.”

“When no such choice was given to the humans you allowed to be slain?”

A question that was really a statement. There would be no changing the Deity’s mind. There never was. “May I see him?” he asked. “Will you tell me how you saved him? I removed his love.”

“There is more to man than a single element, Zacharel. You took his goodness…but left what was festering.”

“I left nothing.”

“You left Unforgiveness.”

Was he implying… No. No! Yet even hearing the word was a blow to the gut. “Where is he?”

A light appeared in front of Zacharel, growing brighter…brighter still…until he worried he would be blind for the rest of eternity. “Look, and see. Your brother and your woman.”

* * *

A
NNABELLE
SPENT
FIVE
MINUTES
alone. That was it. Just five. She had no idea her entire world would change before the sixth ticked past—when Koldo reappeared in the hotel room.

A grinning demon stood at his side.

“Unforgiveness,” Koldo said, shoving him in her direction.

Instinct caused her to scramble backward. She reached back and grabbed…a lamp, she realized when the “weapon” was in front of her, the cord jerked out of the socket. Her knives were on the nightstand, and the nightstand was far from her reach.

“What are you doing, Koldo?” she demanded. “What’s going on?”

“Hello, Annabelle,” the creature said. “Don’t you remember me?”

“I wasn’t talking to you, demon. Koldo?”

“He cannot leave this room, but then, neither can you,” Koldo said. “I made sure of it.”

“At my request,” the demon said, his grin widening.

“I brought you to her, as you demanded, but I will not bring Zacharel here.”

“That is not—”

“Your plan, no. Do not think you will be able to leave on your own. My cloud now surrounds the outside of this room and it will ensure you remain.”

A low growl erupted. “What game are you playing? One word from me, and the females in my charge will be savaged. Do you hear me? Savaged!”

“That’s a lie. They’ll be rescued before that happens. And by the way, you didn’t think of everything,” Koldo replied easily. “I did. Annabelle, he’s all yours.” And with that, he vanished, leaving Annabelle a second time.

A moment passed before she was able to orient herself, to look past her fear and her confusion and the sudden burn in her chest. When she finally realized who—and what—she faced, she released a shrill scream. “You!”

Here he was, her parents’ killer, except he was even bigger than she remembered him. Taller, far more muscled, but still with that barbarian’s face and a vampire’s fangs. Horns on his shoulders, dripping poison, she was sure, and a tail swishing between his legs.

“Do not worry, mate of mine. I won’t make you suffer just yet. I’ll play with you first. The fun stuff will begin when Zacharel swoops in to the rescue. And he will. Koldo will not be able to stop him.”

“I’m not your mate.” A violent tremor threatened to rock her off her feet, the burn in her chest intensifying.
Steady. Calm. Can’t let emotions get the better of you.
“So you’re Unforgiveness, the coward who sends his minions to fight for him, huh.”
Better
.

His fangs elongated as he said, “You’ll pay for that, and so will Zacharel. Where is he, by the way? Not far, I hope.” He looped around her, much as Zacharel had once done, studying every inch of her. A hungry predator who’d just spotted prey.

She turned with him, never letting him have her back. “He’s busy doing something important.” Subtext:
you’re not
. “This is between you and me.”
And I
will
come out ahead. I have to.