Page 70 of Seraph's Tears
Thunder roared above us, sounding like Gabriel’s growl.
I didn’t dare close my eyes, but I focused on Gabriel, his gruff sweetness, the gentle slide of his feathers against my skin, the way I loved him. I love him. I only wish I could’ve seen him one last time. It’s not over yet.
Zorababel was three steps, then two steps from me.
My fingers twitched as I resisted the urge to run.
Light flashed overhead again, much closer this time. The white light fluttered again overhead.
“EVE!” It sounded like…Gabriel.
My heart skipped a beat. I glanced up and saw white wings stark against the black sky. The wings spread wide across the sky, catching what little light remained on the horizon and sparkling like diamonds. He looked down at me, expression determined and fierce. His sword was in his hand. His other was aloft, palm open as if reaching for lightning.
His wings snapped back and he dove toward us, one arm outstretched.
He was glorious, everything a seraph could be. I had seen the captain part of him from the beginning, the burdened yet caring man who wanted to do the right thing for his people. But now I saw the warrior.
How the Gar must’ve quaked with fear when he’d come at them with a sword in his hands. I froze, not in terror, but in admiration of the avenging angel.
Gabriel grabbed Zorababel by the back of his collar.
Shock cut across Zorababel’s face as he was jerked backward and tossed against the rocks.
Gabriel landed in a crouch, one hand planted in the wet earth. Water dripped from his black hair, and his wings spread, the primary feather trailing in the dead grass. His sword reflected the lightning flash in the sky.
Need cut into my chest like a knife. I needed this man, this seraph, in every way. I couldn’t breathe without him, let alone live. He was etched into my soul, and I could not cut him from me anymore than I could cut a limb from my own body.
Slowly, he raised his head. His burning green eyes burned through the fog, the sprinkling rain, the terror, the falling night, and pierced me with a heat that enveloped every inch of my skin. Lightning cracked behind him, backlighting him and shattering a boulder. The possession in his gaze made my toes curl. His bare chest heaved, and the corded muscles in his arms flexed as he stood. His wings snapped back against his spine, but I would never forget the breathtaking sight of them slashing through the night.
“Gabriel,” I whispered. The wind whipped my words away, off the edge of the cliff, but he must’ve heard me. His nostrils flared and his pupils dilated further.
“Eve,” he rasped, voice like ground glass.
Shadows moved behind him, and I jerked my gaze beyond him. I gasped, pointing at Zorababel. He had shaken his confusion free and stood, and he was now creeping toward Gabriel.
Gabriel whirled, taking a warrior’s stance with knees slightly bent, sword hand out, and wings arched and poised to move. I should not have doubted him. He had earned his place as captain of a sedge. I was seeing a master at work.
With a scream of rage, Zorababel charged at Gabriel.
I skirted away, taking two steps to the side and away from the edge of the cliff.
“You’re no herald, no god.” Zorababel was practically foaming at the mouth as he pulled his knife and lunged. “A demon! That’s what you are!”
Gabriel neatly sidestepped, then grabbed Zorababel’s arm and pulled.
It snapped, the sound echoing across the ledge.
Zorababel screamed, and even I winced.
Zorababel waved the knife wildly, trying to scratch Gabriel in any place he could. “I’ll kill her!” he shouted, arm dangling at his side. “I’ll kill her, and then you’ll be sorry.”
Gabriel calmly dropped his sword, reached out, grabbed Zor’s neck, and twisted. With a little snap, his neck tilted impossibly to the side, then his legs crumpled and he fell to the ground. The knife flew out of his grasp and teetered on the edge of the cliff.
I gasped, hand to my mouth. He hadn’t even needed his sword. Just his bare hands.
Gabriel’s wings rose and fell as he stared down at the dead man. He wasn’t even wounded. He wasn’t winded. This was a seraph in all his glory, all his might.
I took a step toward him, reaching out to touch those soft feathers. “Gabr?—”
