Page 3 of Unbroken

I blink and look out over the water, trying to think of something, anything to say as I grab hold of the last thing he said only moments ago. “You can’t harm me if I am already dead, right? So, no worries in that department.” I shrug, feeling a little bit sorry for myself if I am being honest. “You’re right, this place is far from Hell but to me it may as well be.” I turn my head back to face him, only to shriek in surprise, sounding like a Tasmanian devil crossed with a cockatoo, my hand clutches my chest in shock as he’s sitting right beside me. I didn’t even hear him move.

He mirrors my sitting position from before, barefoot, legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. He’s wearing cream linen pants and a tunic. It’s crisp without a crease in sight. If that’s not power, I don’t know what is. All you have to do is look at linen and it wrinkles. He laughs, and I know it’s because I can’t stop my brain diarrhea from exploding all over the place. Oh hell, I just thought about diarrhea. Yes, I am in the presence of an omnipotent being and my first thoughts are about shit. Great. Smite me now.

“Micah,” he calls my name, and my thoughts clear, my focus is absolute as I give him my attention. Wait. Did he do that?

“God,” I reply. I had to say his name, just to be sure.

“Yes,” he replies with a knowing smile. But his confirmation only makes me angry, excited, nervous; a myriad of emotions churn up inside me like a brewing storm. Everything that’s happened comes crashing into the forefront of my mind, all my pain, grief, hell, my trauma.

“Why—”

He holds his hand up to stop me. “I am more than aware of what’s going on in my world. I am always present, Micah. I have witnessed what my sons and my creations, have done and are doing. You are a product of that.” He stops and touches his finger to his lips, lost in thought. A completely Human gesture by a nonhuman being is surreal. “Although, I will say that you have changed Azrael for the better. I wonder if he will willingly admit it.” He winks conspiratorially, and I wonder what the look is for. I guess I will mentally store that away for later. My thoughts turn to Bishop and how overly protective he became when I told him we were going to confront Michael. I have no doubt that I mean something to him, but I don’t know him very well. I guess I’ll never get the chance. He is going to be so mad at me for dying.

“I guess asking you why would be a question on anybody’s lips if they ever got the chance to sit beside you and talk. I have so many things I want to ask but at the same time I don’t feel I am worthy of asking them. Who am I to question”—I throw out my hand, lifting it up and down in his direction as he rewards me with a smirk full of humor—“God.”

He chuckles and seems to relax further beside me. “What is the point of free will if I intervene any time something bad happens? Life is not like that, Micah. You know that more than most. Everyone doesn’t get granted a miracle or what you all consider my blessings. Without hardship, without struggle, there is no growth. Humans, Supernaturals even, need to grow, learn, and eventually change. As old as my sons are, they still need to grow and learn. Some will be lost to me forever, but it still doesn’t stop me from hoping. Like I said, I am aware of it all. But sometimes, some things surprise even me, which is why I took this opportunity for us to meet.”

“Meet me? This is. . . Where am I? That should have been my first question.” I stand, stumbling over my words and turn in a circle dramatically, waving my hands around at my weird surroundings.

He tilts his head to study me, and I can only assume he’s searching my thoughts once more. “First, let me answer the real question that is running through your mind. You are not dead, Micah. You are alive but unconscious. This is just an in-between I created to allow myself to speak to you without bringing you beyond the veil,” he says reassuringly, his arms spread wide as he points to the river, sky, and trees. My mouth parts and my vision begins to blur as more tears threaten to spill.I’m alive. My hands shake as I reach up and cover my mouth to hold back the sob of relief. I get to see them again. I’m alive.

“You have so much potential, young Nephilim, and you have yet to scratch the surface. The minute my son plunged a blade into your chest the magic you’ve gained from your Tethers took over.”

“But?” I ask as flashbacks from when Marcus’s hand gripped tight around the blade makes me rub where I was stabbed.

“Make no mistake, Micah, your brother would never harm you. His hands were not his own. Michael used him to try to kill you. But you didn’t die,” he says as he studies me. I know Marcus didn’t hurt me, and it was as if nothing I did or said would get through to him. I get it now, he was trapped, just like my mother was in Professor Larrieux’s office. Could he see what was happening to me? Did he watch his hand pierce my flesh with his dagger? My poor panda.

My brows crease as I try to recall everything about my Soul Tethers, how our connections work and what occurs once our Tether is complete, and then it hits me. God nods his head at my realization, smiling proudly.

“Their magic boosts my own, but I also gained a bit of theirs as well,” I say in awe. There’s been so much happening in such quick succession, I haven’t had a chance to test my powers. The little I’ve been able to wield in Combat class with Professor Maverick was only the magic I already had access to but never really got to use. I’ve barely had a chance to breathe. It’s been one bit of crazy after another. I sigh. I’m not dead, so that means I have an opportunity to rectify that.

“Your Necromancers kept you alive, their magic worked to keep you in your body. With them by your side they make you almost immortal, but you were practically there as a Nephilim,” he replies as he studies me once more. Am I surprised that he is giving me this information so freely? Hell yes. Why me? Why now? My brain is working in overdrive to keep up with everything he’s telling me but then my mind snags on something he said earlier.

“So why did you want to meet me? Shouldn’t you be putting me out of my misery considering what I am?” I swallow past the lump in my throat, my question is a bold one to ask, all things considered I should be grateful I’m alive. But I’m also considered an abomination in the eyes of other Supernaturals.

His eyes soften. “The world was not ready for hybrids like you when the first Nephilim were killed,” he says solemnly. “They were different creatures all together, Micah. You are more, child. So much more, and you are the key to breaking the stalemate in a war that’s been waging for millennia. You can end this, Micah, and help the world heal.”

I stare at him, dumbstruck. How am I supposed to shoulder such a massive load of responsibility? “What? I don’t understand. The Underworld and Heaven aren’t at war. None of this has anything to do with me.” My brows rise in confusion as the world around us begins to shake, the pink sky turns gray and menacing, the blue river runs red, reminding me of the Sanquin Lake at HellNight Academy. Thunder booms overhead as lightning streaks across the sky. Smoke begins to seep from the mountains in the distance. You’ve done it now, Micah, you’ve pissed God off.

God stands as I stumble to my feet, genuine fear makes me wrap my arms around myself protectively at the sudden change in his demeanor. I take a step away, putting a bit more distance between us as I shield my eyes against the power of his gaze alone.

“There has been no peace. There is no end. My Archangels are at war with each other, scheming against each other, playing their long games, waiting for each other to slip up. Who pays for it in the end? Humans. They are always in the line of fire when one of my sons tries to best the other. What Michael is doing is not in my name. Lucifer, even Azrael, their chaos and destruction is pointless. It’s been constant chaos. You don’t see it because I hold this fragile world together so that it doesn’t collapse around you. You think this has nothing to do with you? You’re mistaken. You’ve been a major player on the chess board ever since you were conceived. You and your Tethers!” He roars, his voice booming loud, as the world begins to fall apart around us. Trees are uprooted as fire rains down from the atmosphere and the mountains suddenly erupt, spewing smoke and ash into the sky.

“Someone has to stop this. If I have to, I will bring it all down and start again. A clean slate. If I do, then all will suffer. I can remake it all, even my children. I am merciful, but I have reached the end of my grace. Free my Archangels, free the Witches and Warlocks who call themselves Light Guardians, including your mother. This fight has everything to do with you. I am not commanding you, but just like my sons, the choice is yours. I won’t plead with you. No, this responsibility is now yours because you know deep down that it is the right thing to do. You were born to protect, Micah Jones. You can change the world by stopping Michael before war breaks out on the streets,” he shouts over the cacophony of sound all around us as I try to keep myself on my feet as cracks and fissures appear beneath them. I mean, I know he’s angry, but damn, is this necessary?

“This is not my wrath, Micah, it is yours. You’ve been unconscious for a long time, changing, morphing into something new. The in-between is crumbling because it’s time for you to open your eyes.” God raises his hands, and everything stops. The river, the dark clouds, the fire, the falling trees freeze mid-collapse, as if he pushed pause on all the destruction.

I know deep down that he is right. I mean, I am not going to tell God no. But what if I am not enough? “I don’t know if I can. . . What if more people—”

“They won’t.” He stops me before I can continue my negative thoughts. “You have everything you need right beneath the surface. Find it, use it. Wake and be reborn, Micah Jones, and remember you have help and you are not alone,” he says with a serene smile on his face, as if he can already see the future. He inclines his head in farewell and my mouth opens to say more, to ask more but as quickly as God appeared. . . well. He vanishes and the world goes black once more.

ChapterTwo

LYRIK

Ican feel an itch under the surface of my skin. Sex, blood, pleasure, and pain, I am desperate for anything at this point. I need to feed. I. Need. To. Fucking. Feed. I don’t know how much longer I can hold back without going damn near feral with lust and rage. I close my eyes briefly, my control slipping but I rein it in, and slowly exhale through my nose. I feel like a newly born Incubus, barely able to contain myself. But I refuse to seek out anyone except my Mate. She is the only person I want to take from, and until she wakes. . .well, I am fucked.

“Clearly, Professor Bodin here will continue to deputize for Headmistress Larrieux until she returns.” One of the board members drones on as I shift my attention to them, nodding in agreement as they continue. I want to be anywhere else but here, yet we have a responsibility to the students of this Academy. I take my job seriously and it is easier to keep myself occupied with work to distract me from my need to feed. How long it will last, I am unsure.

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