Page 63 of Far From Center
“Oddly enough, I remember it fondly. We had such a powerful bond back then, so much love and affection for each other in spite of our differences. But then other angels came to Aaru. We found ourselves with choirs and structure and more rules, but this time we had responsibilities toward the others. Over time we grew apart; most of our interactions were because of matters dealing with the governance of Aaru. By the time of the war with the Angels of Chaos, it was like we weren’t even siblings. It was like all that time together as a family had been washed away with the tide.”
Her hand caressed his outer thigh, resting up near his hip. “And then the war came.”
“Michael had become so intractable and cold, like nothing could never touch his heart. Uriel sided against her life-mate and child, and has never forgiven herself for that or their loss. Raphael blames himself for not taking a stand against Michael and supporting Samael. We’ve never been the same. I’m not sure we ever will be.”
“How did the war change you?”
He paused a moment to think. “It didn’t. But watching my family fall apart like that was one of the most painful things I’ve ever experienced. Samael gone, the others broken and hurting…that’s what my nightmares are about. I was the middle archangel, so I found my own path. I’ve never sided with any of them to the exclusion of the others. And I was the only angel who didn’t actively fight in the war.”
“You were a conscientious objector?” she teased.
“No, I felt both Michael and Samael were wrong and that there was a solution neither were considering.” He huffed, his smile wry. “Not that anyone ever listens to me. I kept things together while everyone else was chopping wings and banishing, and when the dust settled I tried to regain a sense of structure and order within Aaru. It’s not the same, though. I miss the Chaos angels. I’ll admit most of the time I wanted to strangle the lot of them, but I do miss having them around.”
* * *
He pulled away sohe could see her face — even in the dark he could see the curve of her cheek and lips, the honest affection in her eyes. “What about you? Or is that a painful topic, given that you were a changeling slave?”
“As a baby the elves fussed over me. They love infants, and at the time they didn’t realize that I had no magical ability of my own. Changelings are prized over the older humans that fall through the traps because with proper training they can become mighty sorcerers. That human magic combined with the elven magic makes a kingdom powerful, strong against any foes. And they needed to be strong because elves fight all the time. They are intensely tied to their kingdom loyalties, and it seems like there’s always some sort of assassination attempt or power play going on.”
He kissed her forehead. “What happened when you got older?”
“I failed my first magic test. And I mean failed miserably. They thought there was some error and had me take it four additional times just to be sure. They’d never met a human that had not one speck of magical ability. The elf who had bought the rights to me was furious. He couldn’t kill me because the kingdom had laws regarding that sort of thing, so he assigned me basic sanitation tasks. I was denied the companionship of others, had to sleep alone on the hard floor with only a blanket. Sometimes they forgot to call me to dinner. If I made one wrong move, I was beaten.”
Gabe felt an overwhelming urge to kill some elves. She must have felt the tenseness in his muscles because she reached up to cup his face. “Don’t worry. I got them back. Nettles in their bed linen, alum in their soup. Things went missing. A bow broke when a Lord went to make a killing shot. And I always made sure none of it was traced back to me.”
“Please tell me that owner of yours is dead, and that he died slowly and painfully.”
She chuckled. “How un-angelic of you. Yes, he’s dead. When he sold me to the demons, I was terrified. I would have rather been executed then face what demons do to their playthings. But it was Sam that had bought me as a gift to my brother. She brought me across the gates and sort of adopted me. I live in her house, and she is the most indulgent, loyal, protective demon that I’ve ever known. And now I have her, my brother, my half-elf changeling sister, werewolf and human friends, a hellhound that I love. Oh, and a young dragon.”
And you. He heard her unspoken words in his head and his heart ached. It was like that Nephilim story all over again, only this time he’d be the angel overcome with sorrow when his human love eventually moved on to a more suitable match. But until that happened, she loved him. And he’d do anything he could to make sure she never regretted giving him her heart.
“The last few years more than makes up for the first eighteen,” she added.
She was free because an imp wanted to do something nice for her human toy. The Iblis could have stopped there, just handing Nyalla over to her brother, but instead she’d taken the girl under her wing. It was hard to dislike someone who’d done that. Yes, he’d still fight with the imp every chance he got, but between Nyalla’s story, the way the Iblis had treated the Nephilim and werewolves, the way his eldest brother came alive in her presence, he couldn’t hate the Iblis.
There was a flash of light and this time in addition to Sidriel, Tura and a human stood before them, lightly illuminated, no doubt for the benefit of the human. Were they being moved? So soon?
“Well, get to work,” Sidriel told the human. The man shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking from Nyalla to Gabriel.
“She’s pretty small. And what about that guy? He looks kind of big.”
“He won’t bother you. He’s an angel and physical altercation is beneath him. Besides, he’d never harm a human. Just hurry up. This is all rather unsavory, so I’m hoping you can make quick work of it.”
Nyalla took a step back and Gabe angled himself in front of her. Did Sidriel seriously mean for this human to harm Nyalla? Why would he do such a thing?
“Are you sure? That guy looks like he’s going to hit me.”
Sidriel glowed slightly, shooting an irritated glance at the man. “I’m paying you quite nicely. Now get to work or I’ll find someone else interested in making a quick buck.”
The man grumbled and took a step forward. Nyalla hid behind Gabe. “Don’t you touch her,” he told the man. Then everything tilted around him, pain exploding in his face. He felt himself hit the floor, the trickle of blood from his nose and mouth. Nyalla screamed, and Gabe heard the sounds of a tussle, the sound of a fist hitting soft flesh. Nyalla cried out again, her voice echoing both her pain and frustration.
“Stupid girl won’t hold still,” the man said, sounding rather out of breath.
Gabriel shook his head, struggling to get to all fours. A foot hit him in the ribs and he flew across the small room, rolling against the wall. He wasn’t good at this. He wasn’t used to brawling or defending himself in a human manner. But the last few years of fighting with the Iblis had taught him to be resourceful. His eyes lit on an object in the corner, and as he picked it up he thought once more that he owed that imp a favor.
Staggering to his feet, he heard Nyalla cry. Rage poured through him and he swung, hitting the human on the side of the head with the pair of bolt cutters.
The man dropped like a stone, but seeing Nyalla bruised and bloodied, fear and pain in her eyes fanned his anger into a white-hot flame. He hit the man again and again, not stopping even as bits of flesh and blood decorated the floor and walls of their cell.
“Wow. I didn’t think you had it in you, Gabe.” Sidriel clapped while Tura stared at the bloody corpse open-mouthed. “What a show. And now I don’t even have to pay the man. Well done.” He motioned to Tura who took a phone from his pocket and aimed it at Nyalla. A flash went off, and Sidriel leaned over the other angel’s shoulder to look at the picture. “Nice. That will definitely convince the Iblis to see things our way. And just in case those two idiot demons come looking for you–”
The angel snapped his fingers. Nyalla and Gabe found themselves inside what looked like an empty bank vault. There was a plate of dried fruit and bread on the floor along with several large bottles of water. At least the angel had remembered they had human needs. And at least they didn’t need to spend days or weeks in a small cement room with a decomposing corpse.
“Thank you.” Nyalla’s arms wrapped around his waist and she pressed herself against his back. “Do you need to get started on that four-nine-five report for killing that man?” her voice hitched, but she gave a soft laugh. “Have you ever filled one of those out before? I mean, two hundred pages and an impact analysis…I hear Sam complaining about them all the time.”
He grabbed her arms and held her tight against him. “Oh, I’ve filled out my share of those reports. Not as many as the Iblis, but I’m no saint. Although I seldom resort to violence or murder, occasionally I have ended a human life. And I truly feel that the world is a better place because of it.”
“You surprise me, Ancient Revered Archangel Gabriel,” she said.
“There are times I surprise myself,” he replied.
