Annabelle to suffer for your crime. You abandoned her when she needed you most. You.”
Brax gave a violent shake of his head. “I—I didn’t. Or if I did, I didn’t know. I promise you I didn’t know. You have to believe me.”
The way he had believed her when she had spoken those very words to him?
Of course her prints had been all over a knife. She’d grabbed one just in case the monster came back.
“You don’t remember anything else about that day?” she asked, pushing the ugly memory to the back of her mind. “A dream, maybe, where someone seemingly wonderful asked you something terrible?”
“No. I’m sorry,” he said, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”
Unable to deny him, she offered him a soft smile of forgiveness. “It’s okay. We’ll get through this.” He was the only family she had.
He closed his eyes as if her forgiveness was too much for him to bear.
“What do we do now?” she asked, gaze settling on Zacharel. She gasped, did a double take. “Your wings.”
“What—” He flared out one, then the other. A curse exploded from him.
Snow once again fell from the tips of the feathers.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
HIS DEITY WAS DISPLEASED with him. Again, Zacharel thought. For once, however, he knew why beyond any doubt, without being told. He had assumed responsibility for Annabelle, and she had then killed a human, demon possessed or not.
Not that Zacharel blamed her for her actions. He would rather suffer the Deity’s displeasure than lose her, and he would have lost her had she not reacted and protected herself. The blame rested on his shoulders, and his alone. He had trained her a bit in the art of fighting demons, but he had not prepared her for a situation such as this.
“The police will wish to speak with you,” he told her brother. “Tell them what we have discussed and you’ll find yourself locked away as Annabelle was.”
A thousand emotions crossed the boy’s face. And he was a boy, no matter how much older he was than Annabelle. He lacked her courage, and her fire. “You’re leaving me? But the monsters…”
“We’re leaving him?” Annabelle echoed.
“Yes. You are the draw, not him, which means you are in constant danger. And
“Should be?” she demanded, and he knew that wasn’t good enough for her.
“Will be,” he amended. He would send one of his soldiers to secretly guard Brax. “I’ll make certain of it.”
The siblings peered at each other, silent, neither sure what to do or say next. Brax certainly didn’t deserve a sister like Annabelle, but Zacharel was still envious of him and this moment. He would have given anything to see Hadrenial again.
“Well, then.” Annabelle cleared her throat. “Take care of yourself, Brax.”
“You, too. And, uh, Annabelle?”
A warm breeze suddenly wafted through Zacharel’s mind, the first sign of the Deity’s coming summons. He stiffened, losing track of the siblings and their stilted goodbye.
Not a question. Definitely a dig about his past performance. Also an order from his Deity, as well as his next assignment.
For however long he was needed, he would not be searching for Jamila’s tormentors, would not be protecting Annabelle, but fighting demons. He’d feared such a moment, and now that fear ate at him with razored teeth.
But wasn’t that always the way? Whatever a man feared, he received. A spiritual law as binding as all the others.
“Zacharel?”
He pulled himself out of his mind. Both Annabelle and her brother were staring at him, blinking with confusion.
“Come,” he said. “We must go.”
“Uh, Zacharel? What just happened? You were flickering in and out, as if you were here but not here.”
“That’s because I
Color drained from her cheeks.
“Do not worry. I will leave the moment the temple is safe, and we will return to earth.” Not just because of Annabelle’s bargain, but because he would be desperate to whisk her to safety.
“I—” Her mouth floundered open and closed. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome. Now come.”
With a final wave to her brother, she closed the distance to Zacharel and wrapped her arms around his neck. He misted both of their bodies and flew her straight into the afternoon sky. Brax’s shout of, “Take care of yourself, Anna,” followed them, and Annabelle had to blink away a sudden tear.
The sun was hidden behind gloomy storm clouds, the heavens a blanket of darkening velvet. Higher and higher they ascended, until the only spots of color stemmed from angels, the off-duty warriors darting one way, joy-bringers darting the other, all determined to complete a task.
“So many,” Annabelle gasped.
He maneuvered her through the masses, twisting and rolling and finally reaching a clear patch of air. “Cloud!” he shouted. “Return to me.”
Five seconds passed…ten…twenty, but his home eventually appeared around him. However, the misty walls were no longer a soft baby-blue; they were black, as slick as oil, as though weeping the essence of evil. His stomach twisted. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t known it was possible. A cloud had never changed so drastically and so quickly.
“What happened?” Annabelle said.
“I don’t know. It’s dying, perhaps.” The demons that attacked must have poisoned it somehow. “My bedroom. Show me.”
His bed appeared, as did his nightstand. He reached inside the pocket of air and withdrew— Relief nearly buckled his knees. The urn was safe.
“Follow me to the temple, and remain within my sight,” he commanded the cloud. “Guard her, give her anything she requests, and when I return, I will end your suffering.” A pang inside his chest. Of remorse? This home had been his only…friend for a very long time.
Annabelle clutched at his robe. “Let me help you.”
He hardened his heart against her; he had to. “You have no wings, and carrying you will hinder me.”
“But surely I can—”
“You are helping me by staying here and protecting my greatest treasure.”
“Bedroom furniture?” she asked drily.
“Inside that urn is all that I have left of my brother.” Before she could ask questions he wasn’t prepared to answer, he meshed his lips against hers, his tongue plumbing the depths of her warm, wet mouth, stealing a last taste before the coming battle.
By the time he lifted his head, he wanted only to stay with her. But from the very beginning he’d known the