Laying me on the bed, he follows me down. “Wait,” I say, turning my face away from his, trying to slow him down as I feel him begin to pull my shirt up. His cool hand skims over my ribcage sensually, making me shiver.
“No,” he replies, ignoring my attempts to get him to stop kissing me when I turn my face away from him. He just moves lower, continuing to kiss my neck, while holding me in his arms.
“I’m not ready to…” I say, but I stop and gasp as he tears the shirt from my body, exposing the sexy little undergarments I have on beneath it.
“Ye’re ready,” he replies smoothly. “Ye should smell da pheromones ye are emitting. ’Tis like a drug. I feel intoxicated by it. Ye have no idea how ye affect me—’tis almost like tasting ye,” he breathes against my skin. He doesn’t know that Reed caused those pheromones to leap out of me.
“But, I can’t—” I say with a groan, putting my hands on his chest to gain some space between us.
“Ye have no choice,” he replies with a sultry smile, kissing me as his hands roam over my body. “Ye are me prisoner.”
“I thought I was your partner,” I breathe, like it’s a soft, little secret between us.
“Dat, too,” he whispers against my lips. “Ye are me prisoner as I am yers.”
“Oh,” I breathe back, believing what he is telling me—he is my prisoner and somehow, I always knew that. “But you’re no good for me.”
“Come now, I am a guilty pleasure at da very least,” he replies seductively. His hands trace my silhouette as if memorizing the shape of me. “Ye are na alone anymore, ye are part of dis family. Together ye and I will be more powerful den anyting ye can imagine.” He brushes the hair back from my face with a growing darkness in his eyes. “Can ye na feel me in yer blood?” he whispers against my neck, his cool lips toying with me, causing my pulse to beat harder against those lips. “I can feel ye in me bones. I crave the innocence in ye; even as I want ta take it from ye, so dat I can teach ye whah lies beyond dat innocence. I love ye, mo chroí,” he whispers. “I will love ye forever.”
My heart pounds in my chest, like it will tear at any second. I don’t want to love him and I don’t want him to love me either. Tears creep into my eyes because I have confusing feelings for him, too, but they are a burden to me. Bonds formed between us when he killed Alfred for me, when he saved my friends and me from the Ifrit, when he protected me from Casimir, and when he told me of my father. But, what I feel for Reed makes all of that pale in comparison.
“Eternity is a long time, me aingeal,” Brennus responds, undeterred by what he sees in my eyes. “So many tings can happen in da space of infinite time. Ye will forget everyting in time. Ye jus need ta let go.”
“I will never forget him,” I whisper, feeling Brennus’ pain as I push him away from me. “I belong with him.” I watch anger and frustration grow in Brennus’ eyes as his fangs engaged with a click.
My hands tremble, not knowing what he intends to do as he leans nearer to me, holding my arm almost painfully.
“Ye’re moin. Ye’ll always be moin and soon, ye’ll know it. I should break all of yer illusions now and show ye whah I mean, but I want ye ta come ta me—ta ask me ta love ye. I will wait for dat. Do na make me wait much longer,” he breathes before placing a gentle kiss on my lips and letting me go. I rise up on my elbows, feeling my blood draining from my face even as relief is swamping me.
As I watch Brennus walk to the door, I ask, “What if I never ask you to love me?” I think he isn’t going to answer my question, but then he pauses at the door.
Without looking at me, Brennus says in a low tone, “Den, I’ll make ye beg me.”
CHAPTER 22
The Compact
The compact gives a soft gasp of stale air as I lift the lid, opening it. I carry it with me across the bathroom and let it reflect the contours of my face before angling it lower to reveal the deep red silk of my robe. I place the compact on the edge of the enormous, sunken spa tub, and then I untie the belt of my robe, peeling it off slowly. The fabric falls in front of the mirror like the silken ripple of sand dunes. My fingers skim the hot water as it flows from the ornate, gold faucet into the tub. I gently ease into the water.
Heat from the water causes my face to flush while the white, frothy bubbles tickle my skin, eliciting a sensual smile from me.
I ease back against the edge of the bath. Picking up the mirror, I check the pins in my hair, making sure that they are all secure. I don’t want the tendrils to slip down and fall in the water as it laps against my bare shoulders.
I lean to the edge of the enormous bathtub and prop the compact on the marble-tiled shelf by the stone stairs. Closing my eyes, I hum a tune to myself. I try to control the pounding of my heart as I hear soft, fluttering sounds like moths make while flying around a porch light.
As I open my eyes slowly, I try really hard to keep my features blank. I gaze around the room, seeing that all the walls and floors are covered in a variety of different insects. Crickets, locusts, grasshoppers, and beetles are crawling with scuttling movements and extended feelers near my arm where it rests on the edge of the tile. Exhaling softly, like I have been punched in the stomach, my wings shoot from of my back. A cascade of water splashes from the spa, causing some of the insects to wash onto the floor. Immediately, the insects erupt into the air, blotting out the light like shifting, hazy black clouds.
Whirling like water through a funnel, the insects all sort themselves, connecting together to form angelic silhouettes. The dark form of black crickets bursts forth into a leering Power with the dove gray wings of a bird of prey.
Similar things are happening with the beetles and grasshoppers. They both implode into frighteningly strong beings with the white wings of Archangels. The wings of one Archangel fans out, blotting out most of the light behind it when his eyes come to rest on me in the tranquil water. His slow, flawless smile has my heartbeat racing while I struggle to keep fear from showing in my eyes.
The reek that I am expecting isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. They still smell rotten, but it’s not making me want to hurl.
They must be staying away from Sheol, I think, surprised because that means that this portal doesn’t lead directly to Hell. Maybe they are afraid that this is a trap and they don’t want to give us an avenue to enter their domain uninvited.
When the locusts pour onto the floor, crawling over each other and twisting into distorted shapes, I can think of nothing but killing scenarios. Then, Casimir’s disdainful expression emerges from the swirling chaos, his perfect features giving little away as to what he is thinking.
When his eyes make contact with me, like the Archangel before him, his crimson wings push out to full extension showing me his fierce power. A deeper flush stains my cheeks, because even though I don’t know what he is saying to me with his wings, I know it’s not good. Fear makes me want to leap up out of the water and scramble for the door. It’s really kind of good that my legs are numb with fear, so I don’t follow that impulse that would probably get me killed.
“Locusts…that suits you, Casimir,” I murmur in a low tone, leaning back against the wall of the spa nonchalantly. “You do sort of remind me of a plague. You guys should try something less disgusting…like fireflies. The crickets are okay. Some people consider them lucky,” I add, looking at the terrifying Power angel who hasn’t taken his eyes off of me. “I have got to say that in your case, Power, it’s a little ominous. I would like to know how you can keep your body armor on when you shapeshift. I always wind up completely nekkid. It’s inconvenient.”
“Is this your way of stalling us so you can figure out which way to run?” Casimir asks in a gentle voice, looking a little more satisfied than he did the last time I saw him.
“I know which way to run, Casimir,” I reply, leaning to my side and crossing my arms on the edge of the spa. “Do you?” I ask, quirking my eyebrow while trying to control my breathing because my heart keeps insisting on increasing it’s pace.
“Find him and bring him here,” Casimir says, barely moving at all from where he is standing in the middle of the bathroom. In an instant, the Archangels are gone, exiting through the bathroom door that connects to my bedroom.
Approaching the spa slowly, Casimir crouches down so that he is nearly eye level with me. He touches one of the drops of water on my arm, following the wet path downward. Then, he shifts his jewel-like brown eyes and gazes into mine, studying me.
“Who are you looking for?” I ask, not moving at all as I watch Casimir’s eyes shift again, touching every inch of my exposed skin with his gaze.
“You should ask, ‘For whom are you looking?’” Casimir replies, correcting me while he reaches out idly to touch my hair. His pupils dilate a little as he pulls the pins from it, letting it fall through his fingers.
I feel my face flush again at being corrected by this monster, but I play along, asking him, “For whom are you looking?”
“Your master,” Casimir replies.
“I have no master,” I counter.
“You have too many masters. I am here to begin to correct that for you,” he says, his eyes shifting to my wings that I’m trying really hard to keep still so I won’t give away any of what I’m thinking.
“So, you are here to help me?” I ask in a cool manner, seeing how my question has brought the corners of his mouth upward just a little more. I knew this would be hard, confronting a compassionless angel, but feeling his breath on my cheek is making me want to cower in fear.
“I’m here to see if you are worth saving…or if you have been tainted beyond redemption,” he responds easily, like it’s of no consequence to him either way. But, his golden-tanned, flawless skin is growing a little flushed as his eyes continue to assess me.
I let a smile form on my mouth. “Your choice of words is… interesting,” I murmur, resting my chin on my crossed arms. “So, what’s the verdict, Chief? Am I worth it?” I ask, trying not to hold my breath as I wait for his answer.
“It is not that simple,” he replies, studying me. “You have earned some respect for not cowering when we arrived, but that is a minor victory.”
“I don’t mind tests,” I say as casually as possible, knowing that these angels do not respect anything but strength. Showing fear is like begging them to kill me. “My life seems to possess an endless array of them.”
“Yes, you do seem to excel when presented with a challenge,” Casimir agrees. “You are a lovely, little coquette, with impressive adaptability—something new. You lack the callousness of most angels of our ilk. I doubt that when you kill you feel nothing,” he says, like he knows me well.
“I doubt that when I kill you, it will trouble me much,” I reply with a smile, trying to exhibit the brashness that seems to attract these monsters.
Casimir looks genuinely amused by my comment; a smile is inching up on his face. “That sounds too innocent coming from you. It is quite difficult to appear dignified, however, when you are crawling on the ground. You have fallen prey to an inferior race. I am here to show you the error of your ways. We do not grovel. We do not allow others to make us their lap dogs.”
“There is no ‘we,’ Casimir. There is you and there is I,” I reply. “Why would you ever imply that I am one of you?” I ask, and then I hear the Power who has been observing our conversation begin to chuckle, like my comment amuses him. My eyes shift to his face, his lips form a kiss as he winks at me leeringly. Panic fills me at the thought of him touching me. I take a small breath, trying to calm down as I wrinkle my nose at him before looking back to Casimir.
“If we allow you to become one of us, then you will be most fortunate. I simply meant that Seraphim do not allow others to control us,” he explains patiently.
“So, what is it that you want from me, Casimir? Apart from letting me know that you’re offended by the company I keep,” I ask with no emotion, trying to hide the fact that this is the most important question I have ever asked anyone.
“There is a lesson here, Genevieve. Information is costly. The one with the answers is always valuable. I do not trade what is valuable for anything other than everything I want,” Casimir replies.
“And what’s that?” I ask with a quirk of my eyebrow.
“You,” he replies, causing the hair on my arms to rise up.
“What? Don’t tell me you want my soul, like Alfred did. Do you really think they are going to allow you back into Paradise with a stolen soul?” I ask, glancing up at the ceiling and then back down to his beautiful face, like he’s crazy.
“Why would you think that I would ever want to go back there, where I am a second class citizen? A servant to lesser beings?” Casimir inquires, tilting his head to the side as if evaluating my logic.
“So, if Paradise is not the goal, then what?” I ask, playing with the bubbles in the tub, picking them up in my hand. I’m trying to hide the fact that his words are disturbing me, but they probably already know that because the blood is draining from my face.
“Why do you think the Divine want you?” he counters.
“They like me,” I say, shrugging my shoulders and playing dumb. The true answer is that they see me as a weapon—a powerful weapon that attracts their Fallen prey to me.
“Of course they do,” Casimir replies, keeping his face blank. “Why do they like you?”
“Oh…well, I’m funny,” I say, hearing the Power behind Casimir burst out laughing, so I give him the there-you-go gesture.
“No, you are evading. If you do not want to know, then do not ask,” he says in a casual mien.
“I’m their new, favorite weapon,” I answer him, looking at his face and seeing his eyes soften at the edges a fraction.
“Precisely,” he breathes. “But, have you noticed that you do the same thing to them as you do to us? We are the same, Divine and Fallen. Our physiology does not differ. We are all Angels.”
“So that makes me a gun in anyone’s hand,” I reason. “If you can pull the trigger, then I’m your weapon.”
He shrugs. “There is so much more to it than that, but if you want to speak in layman’s terms, I will concede your point. Explore the possibilities where you are concerned. They are endless. If we can lure the Divine to us, then we have the advantage. If we can show you our side in this, because there is always the flip side of the coin, perhaps you will see our point of view. If not, maybe the Divine will. You see? You are a new race. What is your purpose? Is it to replace all of us? How do you think the Divine will feel about being replaced? Do you think they will appreciate it?” he asks me and I can’t stop the shiver that courses through me.
If the Fallen can make me look like an enemy to the Divine, they can perhaps persuade them to align with them…the enemy of my enemy is my friend. It sounds absurd, but it’s already happened with the Ifrits changing loyalties. It happens all the time in their world, I think, feeling cold.
“What will humans do when they are no longer favored? If they are to be replaced by you?” he continues, enjoying what his suppositions are doing to me. “No matter what you believe, you are truly alone in the universe. You are the only one of your species that exists.”
But I’m not…I have Russell, I think, trying to hide my thoughts from Casimir. What will he do if he learns of Russell? I feel numb and lower my eyes to hide Russell from him.
“You think I’m a warning from God? A threat?” I whisper in a secretive tone, like the kind I use when I think no one is listening. I glance up grimly from the water around me to Casimir’s face. His perfect aching brow softens.
“You are alluring,” he says with admiration in his tone. “A very destructive being. It was absolute genius to make you female. If you had been male, you would not have survived this long,” he says with absolute certainty.
“Lucky me,” I utter numbly.
“Threats work both ways, Genevieve. You will be extremely lethal soon. You could rival anything in Paradise—anything,” he says in a low tone, watching my reaction.
I still. “Now you’re talking stupid,” I reply, feeling my throat tighten in fear.
“Am I?” he asks, his eyes widening in surprise. “You have been given weapons that none of us possess. We suspected that you would be powerful, but to see you begin to realize that potential is…tempting.”
I yawn like I have seen Brennus do when someone says something to upset him. “Power is overrated. Have you ever heard the saying, ‘Heavy is the head that wears the crown?’” I ask him. “I don’t crave that kind of power. It’s exhausting.”
“And trying to survive the whims of others is not?” he asks me probingly.
“It is preferable to trying to rule them,” I reply honestly.
“Dangerous,” he whispers, showing me his first, true smile.
He is exquisitely beautiful with his golden hair and his handsome façade, but it’s just that, a façade. He speaks in Angel to the Power in the room who then glances to the bathroom door. The Power shrugs, and then steps towards me with a wolfish grin on his face.
“What are you doing,” I ask them calmly, but I feel my stomach lurch.
“We are ready to depart,” Casimir says, straightening up and towering over me in the tub. “Altair will assist you through the portal.”
“I thought you sent the Archangels to find Brennus,” I say, watching his eyes darken.
“They will bring him to us. We will make him see that it is in his best interest to break his contract with you. If he cannot see it, then he will feel it. It will be uncomfortable for you, if we have to do it that way, but you seem to adapt well to adversity,” he replies easily, like my pain is irrelevant.
“So, you’ve decided I’m worth saving?” I ask, submerging my hands in the water, so he doesn’t just reach in and pull me out. “You change your mind like a I change my clothes.”
“How so?” he asks and Altair pauses by the tub to hear my answer.
“The Werree that you sent already tried to kill me,” I reply.
“Yes, and you killed nearly all of them for it,” he states with a gleam in his eyes. “If I had but one wish, it would have been to find someone like you.”
“And if you were a coin, I’d throw you down a well without making a wish,” I reply.
“I stand corrected. It is you,” he says without his usual disdainful expression.
“What is it about what I just said that is appealing?” I ask with exasperation, shaking my head in confusion. “I so don’t get any of you.”
“No one speaks to them like you do,” Altair replies, grinning.
“Like what? With my mouth?” I ask him sarcastically.
“Boldly—without fear. If they do, they rarely retain the ability to speak again,” Altair replies, extending his hand for me to take so that he can assist me from the spa. His eyes are darkening, maybe in anticipation of seeing me rise naked from the water.
“Why should I fear him, Altair, when I intend to kill him?” I ask, ignoring his hand.
“Why would you want to do that when I am going to rescue you from the Gancanagh? I will be your master—” Casimir begins.
I interrupt him. “What makes you think I will allow you to enslave me?” I ask, annoyed by his sheer arrogance.
“How will you stop me?” he counters.
“Painfully,” I reply, seeing how my words are affecting him. He has lost the bored look he had before.
“Why would you find my guidance more repulsive than your present predicament?” he asks.
“You stole something from me,” I reply.
“I have nothing that belongs to you,” he replies, puzzled, his perfect brow showing a beautiful frown.
“You stole a piece of my heart,” I say, feeling my throat get tight. “You sent Alfred and he killed my uncle.”
“You are referring to the human who raised you?” Casimir asks, his color heightening. He is enjoying my need for vengeance.
“I am,” I nod, losing the battle to keep the hatred from my expression.
“But he was merely a human. They all die eventually. Some more gruesomely than others, I will admit. ‘Every man wants to go to Heaven, but no one wants to die.’ You can think of what we did as sending him to Paradise for you. Now you will always know where he is.”
“Joe Louis said that about Heaven,” I say, recognizing the quote as coming from the iconic boxer from Detroit.
“Yes, I know. I read it in one of your school papers,” he says, causing goose bumps to rise on my arms.
Evil Freak, I think, chilled.
“Joe said something else as well,” I reply, feeling something brush up against my foot within the water. “He said, ‘Everyone’s got to figure to get beat sometime.’ Maybe your time is coming, Casimir. Maybe it’ll be soon.”
“Ah, Genevieve, I will enjoy showing you your place. It is truly something I am anticipating with emotions that I had thought I would never feel again,” he says with an angelic smile that is in direct contrast to his ominous tone.
“And where is my place?” I ask, feeling disgust.
“Beneath me,” he smiles and I know that he means directly beneath him. His words make fear run through my veins like icy water, but I can’t let them know that his words scare me.
“Altair, do you plan on helping him?” I ask, turning to the Power who cannot hide the yearning on his face. “He’s going to need it.”
Both Altair and I freeze when we hear Casimir laugh softly in amusement. It’s a compelling laugh, deep and…honest. The shock on Altair’s face lets me know that this might well be the first time he has ever heard Casimir laugh.
Casimir grins. “You have me spinning. I cannot decide what I shall do with you. Shall I show you the savage side of your nature…take you down to the primal level of what you are?” he asks with a delicate lifting of his eyebrow. “You could be the platform on which I rise. But, I will have to tame you first, because right now you are a beautiful disgrace. I will have to make you respond only to me,” he says, his eyes tightening cunningly in the corners.
“Altair, does he always speak like that?” I ask, wrinkling my nose again. “I love his choice of words—beautiful disgrace, like he is unaware that he is the embodiment of that.”
Altair smiles at me. “He will never be able to hold on to you, Seraph,” Altair replies almost reverently, extending his hand to me again. “The other Seraphim will fight for you when they see you—you may well be the one—” Altair is interrupted when Casimir emits a low, terrifying growl.
Just when he does so, Brennus’ hand reaches up out of the bath water and grasps Altair’s hand firmly, before he rises slowly to bring his dripping-wet face within mere inches of Altair’s waning expression.
As water runs off his chin onto his pale, bare chest, he says to me, “’Tis a good ting I’m already dead and do na really need ta breathe, mo chroí. Did ye plan ta talk ta dem all evening?” he asks, not looking at Altair who has a dopey expression on his face now, but directly at Casimir. Brennus’ face darkens with anger, “Kill him,” he orders Athair. I watch Altair straighten up instantly, turning on Casimir and pulling wicked daggers from the holsters strapped to his hips, like a gun slinger pulls out sidearms.
As Altair lunges at Casimir, I hardly see Casimir move but he easily grasps Altair’s wrists, halting the attack. Casimir twists Altair’s wrist until it breaks, effectively turning the weapon in Altair’s hand. He uses the redirected momentum to plunge the long dagger into Altair through the layers of Altair’s body armor. Then, Casimir pulls the dagger upward, gutting the Power angel as pieces that belong inside of Altair spill out onto the tiled floor. Casimir does not pause but clutches the knife and cuts the head from the Power as he holds him up.
Shock creeps over me as the scent of blood fills the air and Altair crumbles headless to his knees. It is then that I discover that knowing the plan and executing it are two very, very different things. Seeing the brutality of Altair’s death makes me hesitate for a fraction of a second. When I recover, I pull my hands up out of the water and lift the wet, combat-ready, fully automatic machine gun complete with kick ass, banjax charms from the depths of the spa.
Positioning the gun against my shoulder, I point it at Casimir and squeeze the trigger. A spray of bullets bursts forth, honing in on him. When the first bullet penetrates his thigh, spraying his blood on the wall of the bathroom, a small smile forms on my lips.
In the next moment, my smile slips as Casimir literally shatters into a swarm of locusts again.
“No,” I breathe, seeing my bullets gliding between the pieces of him.
I drop my gun into the water and scramble out of the tub. My skin-tight body suit drips water onto the floor as I run towards the swarm of flying insects. Batting at the bugs with my hands, I am hurled backward off my feet by Casimir’s angelic silhouette of locusts. I crash into the vanity, toppling the perfume bottles and smashing the mirror into large shards of glass.
Stunned for a moment, the flittering of hundreds of small, paper-like wings beating the air is all I can hear. Then, the locusts emit a piercing, insect-like noise. Covering my ears in agony, the noise reminds me of the orchestra of sound that bugs create on a summer night, but LOUD.
I pull one hand from my ear and grasp one of the long, jagged shards of mirror, while getting to my feet. As I glance to the tub, Brennus is hunched over too, trying to cover his ears to blot out the intense noise. Next to him, the portal is still propped open on the edge of the tub.
“BANJAX!” I shout, watching the swarm of locusts moving into the portal I have stupidly left open.
The noise ends immediately as the last locust makes it into the portal. Standing up straighter, I want to scream in frustration. I let the fragment of glass slip from my fingers. It falls to the floor and shatters with a loud twinkling of sound.
Brennus steps out of the spa, watching my face pale as I bend over and put my hands on my knees, trying to calm my frantic breathing.
I failed, I think in anguish.
“’Tis na da only opportunity dat we will have ta kill him, mo chroí,” Brennus says, trying to console me. “He is na going ta go away anytime soon.”
“I know,” I pant. “But it was maybe the best shot we can expect.”
“Did ye get da answers ye wanted?” Brennus asks, seeing the pain on my face.
I shrug, “Maybe…I don’t know. He’s a liar and a really good spin doctor, so…I don’t know.”
The door of the bathroom opens and Declan strolls in with the two Archangels following him docilely. “He escaped,” Declan states, looking around and seeing Altair on the floor. He nudges Altair’s dismembered body lightly, like he is making sure the angel is dead. “He’ll be back,” Declan says soothingly to me, like I have just lost my favorite pet. “Maybe I can help.” Turning to the Archangels, Declan orders, “Destroy Casimir and bring his body ta me.”
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