Wicked Nights

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