Page 60 of Seraph's Tears
My eyes narrowed. “You’re evading.”
Her mouth pressed into a thin line, then she sighed. She sat up, and the sheet fell to reveal her glorious breasts. My mouth watered at the sight of them, even though my mind knew we needed to focus on something else first. “Very well. What is your question?”
“What do you mean, you’re lucky they chose you? Who are they?”
She grabbed the bedsheet and pulled it up. Though it was a smart decision, I hated seeing her breasts disappear. “My…my church. They sent me.”
I blinked. “You said you had the chance to get out in the world, that your parents needed the money you send back. That’s why you’re a housekeeper.”
She flushed and looked away. “That’s all true, but there’s more.”
I tensed. “What else?” I ground out. “Tell me now.”
“I told you I’d grown up in a church that’s more like a cult.” She wouldn’t meet my gaze, always bouncing between a spot on the bed, the headboard behind me, her fingernails. “They have a fascination with, well, you.”
“Me?” Confusion and distrust climbed within me. “Explain.”
“The church was started by Reverend Grimshaw fifty years ago, when you Fell from the sky.” She sighed again, as if it was painful for her to speak. As if I was dragging the words out of her. Well, I deserved to know, didn’t I? Mates shared everything with one another.
“He became obsessed with seraphim. With you, specifically, because you fell closest to where he stood. He called you Heralds of Death, beings of great power that could travel between us and God. You could smite entire cities, and you were worthy of worship.”
I snorted. Leveling entire cities by myself was a bit much, but I could do far more damage than a single human could.
“His grandson, Zorababel Grimshaw, is the reverend now. And he’s carried on the legacy of searching for you. After you disappeared, it was hard to find any seraphim. But a few months ago Zorababel tracked down some rumors to this part of the country. We—he—found your advertisement for a housekeeper, and the elders decided to send me as sort of a, well,” she fumbled.
“A spy,” I finished coldly. As she spoke, a chill crept into my body, spreading through my limbs and creeping toward my heart. Who was this creature? Did I even know her at all?
She flushed again, biting her lower lip. “Yes,” she admitted. “Like a spy.” Her head jerked up and she met my eyes for the first time. “But I didn’t reveal anything! I swear it. I care about you, Gabriel, and you can trust me.”
My skin prickled. In the past, when I’d heard those words, it meant I definitely could not trust that person. “What have you done?” Had she told them our weakness? Thank goodness she didn’t understand how important ayim was to us.
She flinched at my tone.
My heart squeezed at the sight of that flinch. A good mate did not make his partner shy away from his voice. But the anger in me wouldn’t stop building.
“Zorababel contacted me,” she admitted. “He knows I’ve found you. He wants to meet with you, to convince you to come back. He’s planned some sort of ceremony and grand temple for you.”
“Never,” I declared, recoiling at the idea of being trapped by playing a god. Then I registered what else she’d said. “How does he know you’ve found me, if you haven’t told him anything?”
Her eyes shone with regret. “He…has a feather of yours. It matches the feather his grandfather took from the day you Fell.”
It took a heartbeat to understand what she’d said. “You gave him one of my feathers?” Anger turned to rage. Feathers weren’t a particularly intimate thing, as they tended to drop off and regrow. Puberty was a particularly mortifying time due to molting. But picking up feathers? Handing them off to humans? It didn’t sit right. It had been a part of my body, and it felt oddly…violating.
She paled. “They took it from me, I promise. I never would’ve given it to them willingly. I just…I picked it up one day and it was special. I liked having a piece of you close by.”
I scoffed. “So you came to me as a housekeeper, lying about your background and why you came here. All to, what, convince me to lead your cult?”
Eve looked miserable. One end of the sheet was twisted through her fingers. “I don’t want you to join it. I don’t trust Zorababel. I don’t know how he’d hurt you, you’re a seraph and he’s a mere man. But even godhood can be a cage, can’t it?” Her eyes were shiny, as if filled with tears.
I was unmoved by them. “Were you going to tell me?”
She was silent.
Hurt swirled through the rage in my body. My chest burned, my arms flooded with the sense of betrayal. My heart pounded and my wings bunched tight and high against my spine. I jerked away from her.
“I’m sorry.” One tear spilled over, trickling down a cheek. It was poison to me.
“Me, too.” I balled a fist and looked away from her. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you.”
