Page 34 of The River of Hatred

“Snakes,” I reply grimly.

The Nephilim snorts. “On a plane?”

“In a trench,” Sariel says with a smirk.

I look at first one, then the other, shaking my head in my puzzlement. “What are you two talking about?”

“Mature things,” the Fallen drawls.

I roll my eyes at him. “I hope a snake bites you in the ass.”

Jess chokes on a startled laugh while Sariel flat-out guffaws. “That’s not very do-no-harm-unto-others, Itha,” he chides and my lips tug up.

“Well, Itha already got poisoned on this excursion, Sar, I think it is your turn.”

We pin the mortal with our gazes before Sariel bursts into motion, leaning down and throwing her over a shoulder in one smooth motion. Her laughter bounces from the desolate rocky landscape as she ineffectually hits the Fallen’s back with her open palms.

I wish I could touch them so freely.

Stopping, I look at my dusty boots. Where did that thought come from? While I often preferred my mortal form over the more common ethereal one, I never saw the point in casual physicality. Why does watching Sariel and Jessica play make me yearn to experience it for myself?

I remember what else I watched them do and flush. Every time the thought enters my mind – and it is often – I feel a little bit less guilty. That is the slippery slope of sin. It insidiously makes itself at home in your heart and before you know it it’s taken over.

“Hurry up, slowpoke!”

My fists ball at my side as I pick up my steps again. I have never wanted things that were bad for me, or even that just did not enrich my existence in some way. I never considered that perhaps it would be things that are bad for me enriching my existence.

“Where’s your head at?” Sariel asks once I catch up. Jess is now perched on his back, her legs wrapped around his torso like a baby lemur. I raise an eyebrow at her instead of answering the Fallen’s prying question.

“I’ve decided I’m staying away from the snakes. I should be safe atop my prancing Pegasus.” A beaming smile lights up her face. “See what I did there? Cuz he has wings?” She seems so proud of herself that I only purse my lips, keeping my thoughts to myself.

Sariel isn’t that considerate though. “I don’t take prancing as a compliment, love. You might just find yourself bucked off your horsie if you’re not careful.” He tempers the threat by caressing her arms, crossed at his chest and my chest squeezes with yearning.

Sariel and I didn’t touch to evoke sensation but we did lean on each other. Sit back-to-back so we could each enjoy our own tomes. I haven’t interacted like that with anyone since he fell, afraid to potentially feel the same dangerous emotions again.

Angels do not fall often, but when they do, it’s a devastating loss for Heaven. Sariel's falling was a devastating loss for my heart.

The Fallen spins, using Jess’ hip to nudge me. “You’re extra mopey today,” he comments as Jessica turns beet-red. “Do you want to climb on, too? The only snake threatening you then will be the one in my pants.” A giant grin overtakes his face as my face heats up as well.

“Hey, don’t go offering rides to other people, pony,” the mortal interjects.

Sariel’s brows climb up. “And why not?” he asks. “I’m hung enough for both. I mean, horse enough for both,” he corrects himself, obviously insincerely. My eyes involuntarily drop to his crotch, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by my wicked companions. Their laughter once again drowns out the malevolent sounds of the hissing snakes and whimpering sinners.

Before either can comment on my orbital faux pas, the trench’s sinners and their punishments come into view. The air is nearly humming with the sound of thousands of reptiles tasting the air with their forked tongues as their scales glint in the eerie, dim blue light.

“Shit,” Jess hisses, the sound weaving seamlessly into the reptilian chorus.

Her wide eyes observe the animals coiling around the sinners, some of them keening, some screaming soundlessly, their mouths open, but no breath in their constricted lungs. She gasps as a snake bites a nearby sinner and they burst into flame, reforming into a grotesque, barely humanoid shape.

“What did they do?” she asks breathlessly.

“They’re thieves,” Sariel replies.

“I stole chewing gum from a store as a kid.” Jessica’s whispered words are full of dread.

“I wouldn’t say that any louder,” I murmur.

Both of them turn surprised eyes in my direction.

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