Ezekiel took center stage. With a flourish, he stretched out his hands in our direction and announced, “The answer lies in your name, El speth.”
What on earth did he mean?
He chuckled, as if I’d said my question aloud. I guessed that my face spoke volumes. “El speth means the Chosen One. You are the Elect One.”
“Me? Why not Michael?” The words just blurted out.
“Oh, Michael has a special role. But more in the nature of protector, a knight to his lady, if you wil . Except you are so much more than a lady.”
Stretching out his hand, he said, “Come with me.”
So it was me. The Elect One. This was insane. And why did Ezekiel think I would go anywhere with him? Better than anyone, I knew his darkness; I had seen it firsthand through his own eyes.
I spun around and looked at Tamiel and Michael for help. Michael’s face stil bore that glazed expression. And Tamiel hadn’t left, but she had averted her eyes and stepped away from me and Michael and Ezekiel. Almost as if she was forbidden to join us in this battle.
Only Ezekiel met my gaze. “El speth, you have a choice. You can come with me and save Michael. Or you can choose Tamiel and her kind, and I wil destroy Michael.”
So that’s how Ezekiel thought he could get me to go with him. He believed that I would never, ever risk Michael’s life. Even for a greater good.
And Ezekiel could be right. How could I choose to destroy Michael?
“You cannot have her!” Michael suddenly awoke with a scream.
Inexplicably, Ezekiel cast an amused look in Michael’s direction. “I’ve heard those words before. I think Hananel and Daniel said them to me the day you were born, El speth.”
Michael lifted off the ground and flew at the surprised Ezekiel, who stil stood on the stage. He landed on him with such force that Ezekiel fel off the stage with a crash, narrowly missing an exposed iron rod that supported the platform. But the rod must have grazed Ezekiel’s face, as blood trickled down his cheek. It was unsettling to see the immortal Ezekiel bleed.
Ezekiel stood up, wiped away the blood with his finger, and then licked it. “You would kil me instead, son?”
“Son? I’m no son of yours,” Michael yel ed.
“That is precisely who you are,” Ezekiel answered calmly.
Michael then flew off the stage toward Ezekiel. This time, Ezekiel was ready. He propel ed himself upward, into the rafters high in the ceiling of the hal . As Michael fol owed him, I started to lift off in pursuit. I couldn’t let Michael fight Ezekiel alone.
Tamiel pul ed me down to the ground. “Michael must combat Ezekiel unaided.”
I struggled to free myself from her grasp, but she was incredibly strong. “Michael is trying to protect me from Ezekiel. I can’t let him do that by himself. He needs me.”
Tamiel took me by the shoulders and stared into my face. “El speth, only the child can kil the parent. Let Michael fulfil his destiny, if he can.”
“Ezekiel is real y his father?” I was shocked, although it explained the link between them. I thought Ezekiel had been speaking metaphorical y.
“Yes, he is. Only one with Ezekiel’s blood in his veins can destroy him.”
The news tore my attention from the battle raging overhead. “But I thought angels couldn’t procreate?”
“They usual y can’t. But you and Michael are unique.”
“So we real y are Nephilim?”
“Yes.”
“Where are our mothers? Our human mothers?” I felt a sudden, deep yearning for mine.
Tamiel stared at the floor. “Your birth mothers are no longer with us.”
“They’re dead?” I wanted to cry, but knew I couldn’t. I had to keep my focus.
She nodded slowly, stil not meeting my eye.
“What about my father? Where is he?”
A crash sounded out above us. Ezekiel had flung Michael into the metal scaffolding bolstering the ceiling, and I screamed despite myself. I twisted and turned, trying to get out of Tamiel’s grip so I could help him.
“Stay here, or you wil only complicate matters for Michael,” she ordered.
Tamiel’s hold was unbreakable, leaving me no choice but to stare at the war above us. Michael and Ezekiel dove up and over and around the massive rafters reinforcing the ceiling. Each took equal turns harming the other, and for a time, I felt heartened that Michael might actual y win the battle. But then Ezekiel caught Michael by the foot and swung his head into a huge beam. Michael flew away, but I knew he was badly hurt. I could smel the blood flowing from his wounds, and I could sense him weakening.
Suddenly, I knew how I could help. Somehow I wrenched Tamiel’s hands off my shoulders and raced to the side of the stage. I looked up. Michael and Ezekiel were hovering directly above me. It was my moment.
I forced a sob and cried out, “Ezekiel, stop. I can’t watch you hurt Michael any longer. Stop. I’l go with you. But only if you deliver him to me—
