Chapter 40
Again and again and again, I’ve been made unconscious against my will. I wake up somewhere unfamiliar to me, unsure how I’d gotten there.
I’m sick of it. Sick of being a pawn in a celestial game, sick of being someone’s toy, sick of not being able to defend myself.
And now, it’s landed me in a prison cell.
Vaguely aware of the old spring mattress that squeaks underneath me, I quickly survey my surroundings. The room is made of white concrete, devoid of windows, with harsh overhead fluorescents. There’s only one solid metal door, a sink, and a toilet.
I don’t remember getting here, but I have no doubt this nightmare is my reality. The last thing I remember is… is…
I touch my face, expecting it to be sticky with blood.
It’s not. It’s miraculously clean. But I still feel like covered in it.
I stagger to the toilet, collapsing on my knees in front of it, and heave bile out of my stomach. Tears begin to slip down my face. My breathing is erratic, uncontrolled, and I’m trembling like a leaf.
By no means am I sad that Michael’s dead. Whether he stays gone for a day or a year, he deserves it. I doubt the ancient fucker has ever died before, and he should know what death feels like by now, considering all the lives he’s taken.
No, I’m just traumatized.
I keep getting tossed from one awful, unbelievable situation to the next. I can’t catch my breath. I barely survived what I didn’t even realize was a rare, superpowerful angel, and my reward for it was mutilation, anger, and... him.
I heave bile again.
My whole body shakes so violently that I grip the toilet harder in an effort to stay upright.
I still don’t know what happened between Abaddon and me.
We had sex many times, he said, but I barely remember the first—and even that was a wholly unnatural blur, full of possessive claiming.
It was painful, frightening, and mixed with drug-like ecstasy.
I can’t even tell if I had my full faculties then, either.
Something tells me that I wouldn’t want to remember it. Not now. Not yet. I’ve never been a masochist; there is no happy way that I woke up so bloody and raw. The details would only make it harder for me to get by. I’m not ready to face them.
A deep, aching cry crawls out of my soul and wracks through my body.
I flush the toilet, lie down on the floor, and let the panic attack consume me.
I sob so hard, my thoughts running so fast, they soon become an indecipherable blur.
My muscles begin to hurt from how long they jerk and vibrate, but it’s even more painful to keep them still, so I let go.
I cry until I’ve completely exhausted myself in every way possible, losing all sense of time in the process.
When the anguish eventually dies into a depressing defeatism, I summon the last of my strength to crawl back to my pathetic mattress. Collapsing on it, I succumb to my bleak reality and an even bleaker fate.
I wake up again to the feeling of someone standing next to me.
My eyes crack open, and I stare at him.
He stands tall, with broad shoulders and a lean build, his wavy hair neatly styled to the side. The charcoal grey suit he wears looks straight out of the 1920s, accented by black raven wings tucked on his back.
“I’m sure you have questions,” Azael starts.
I just stare at him.
“Get up, Kaelene.”
“Kae,” I huff, my voice barely a whisper.
“Surely you’re not upset over Michael’s death. If you were concerned about his well-being, you wouldn’t have done your part so well. You had ample time to warn him.”
My lips downturn, starting to form a scowl. “You used me as bait, you motherfucker.”
“Unfortunately, yes. It was a long shot, but because of your excellent performance, he was distracted enough for me to catch him by surprise.” He slips his hands into his coat pockets. “So I decided to repay the favor by freeing you from your masters.”
He truly thinks he’s freeing me by capturing me for himself.
The hypocrisy is more than infuriating. It makes me want to commit murder.
I leap out of bed, slashing at his face with my nails.
He dodges just in time to avoid the hit, but I’d planned on it.
My foot collides with his stomach, knocking him back a step.
Fury boils out of me, and I reach into the heavens, desperately grasping for whatever threads of power I can possibly summon—
An unseen force sends me flying back onto the bed.
Pain writhes in my wrists, burning like fire, and I cry out.
“Stop,” Azael commands with calm clarity.
Desperate to make the pain end, I force my eyes closed as tightly as I can, letting my body fall limp against the bed.
I’m dehydrated and weak, and I know I couldn’t possibly fight him for long.
But now I’m also humiliated, pathetically powerless, with my back pressed to the mattress and legs dangling off.
Then he has the nerve to say, “I’d rather not have to do this.”
“Fuck. You,” I hiss through gritted teeth.
I want to shred him into pieces. I want to send him back to the beginning of time, before he ever existed, and return the particles of him to his maker—to make sure he’d never be created.
“Let me up and speak to me like a human being, you hypocritical, lying asshole.”
The pressure against my wrists ends, and I jolt up into a sitting position. Before I have the time to think about doing anything else, Azael clicks his tongue.
“Stop trying to attack me like a feral animal, and I’ll stop having to protect myself.” His voice is flat and disinterested, as if I’m a fly buzzing in his ear to be swatted away. He doesn’t even bother to remove his hands from his pockets. As if I’m boring him.
I should have fucking listened to Semyaza.
Azael is a liar, a manipulator, and a murderer. I fumbled a perfect chance to serve his ass to Michael on a silver platter, and now I’ll have to bide my time in his vicinity until I get the chance to take him out myself.
Considering all I have left right now is either depression or bottomless fury, I already know that’s going to be nearly impossible.
“I didn’t like the son of a bitch, either, but you didn’t have to kill him,” I huff, shoving my hair back from its disheveled place.
Azael breathes out something similar to a laugh, taking a few steps across the room. I scowl at the space he closes between us, wishing he’d just stayed by the door, but he doesn’t care.
“I doubt you’ll listen, but I do have an explanation, Kaelene.”
“I don’t have much of a choice but to listen, now do I? If you haven’t fucking noticed,” I wave my hand in a show of the room, “you’re holding me captive here.”
“Would you have preferred I let Michael kill you? You did seem quite content to allow it. One might even say you were baiting him to.”
“I’d rather die than live as your slave.”
His eyes smolder with insult. “You’re not my slave. If anything, you were Abaddon’s. He can’t reach you here. You’re welcome.”
“I’m welcome? Are you fucking kidding me?” I laugh, flabbergasted. “You took away my choice, you manipulative piece of shit. I was going to go to Elohim, where I could have figured it out.”
“You would have learned very quickly how impossible that is to do when you’re dead. If you’d stop being an impulsive brat for a few seconds, you’d see that I’m giving you the best option for your situation.”
Hatred seeps into my sarcasm, and I serve it up heavy-handed. “Yeah, because living out the rest of my eternal life in a dingy prison cell is so the best option.”
“I never said I’m keeping you in here forever. Once I’m sure you won’t try to kill me or burn down the City of Adonai, you can live out there with the others.”
“Oh, yeah, sure. That’ll happen.” I roll my eyes. “Even if your word was worth the air you wasted on it, how the fuck can you claim to be ‘freeing me’ when you’re still keeping me from returning home? In what world is that considered free? You’re so goddamn hypocritical, it’s making my head spin.”
“The arrogance of youth,” he mutters, scowling.
“Are you that dense? Why would I just let you go do as you please when you can’t be trusted not to open the Abyss?
Your life is not worth the billions who would suffer if the locusts were released.
You can’t protect yourself from influence, and even if you could, what happens when they put a gun to your precious friend’s head and demand you do it? ”
He knows about Jackie. No, no, no. This isn’t good—
“Yes, I know all about her. And before you say they wouldn’t do that, they would. One girl doesn’t come before their mission, just as one girl doesn’t come before mine.”
“No, Abaddon promised he’d keep her safe,” I blurt out, panicking. “He said someone would be taking her to Elohim.”
“Oh, they took her to Elohim, alright.”
My stomach drops. “What do you mean?”
Azael pauses for a moment, looking reflective, before he walks over to me. Despite my expression of disgust and horror, he stops a few feet in front of me, leaning against the wall. “Have you ever wondered what happens to any new nephilim that are born?”
“I thought they weren’t born anymore… What does that have to do with Jackie?”
“No. Gabriel and Michael slaughtered all the existing nephilim, but they never stopped being born. The Elohim simply built laws for their management, and a prison city to isolate them in while they produce value.” He looks at me with a touch of pity.
“There are plenty of humans in Elohim, Kaelene. Involuntarily in Elohim.”
“Are you saying…” I can hardly breathe. “That Jackie… is literally… a slave there?”
“It’s more of a gray area between slave, indentured servant, and prisoner, but unfortunately, yes. My sources inside Elohim have confirmed she’s being held in Arcadia.”
“Oh, God. Jackie.” I clutch my chest, feeling my heart breaking. Jackie, my poor friend who’s already been through such hell, thrown into slavery. Because of me. She was trying to rescue me. “This is my fault.”
“No, it’s not,” Azael’s voice hardens. “Would you like to know who has temporarily filled Michael’s place on the Council?”
Horror fills my face as I stare at him. Just when I thought this couldn’t get worse... “Please tell me they did not give it to Abaddon.”
“They did. Would you care to tell me why your beloved fiancé would allow such a thing to happen to your friend? Or why you don’t want him on the Council?
” He tilts his chin up, looking down at me with a frighteningly serious expression.
“How about the intense fear and rage you project every time I bring him up?”
“That’s… that’s none of your business.”
“When I’m holding you in my protection and your would-be husband would like to throw me into the lake of fire for it, I’d say it is my business.”
“Then let me fucking go,” I snap. “I never asked for your ‘protection.’”
“Did you miss my entire point about how they could hold a gun to Jacklynn’s head and coerce you into opening the Abyss?
” Azael rolls his head back, staring up at the ceiling.
“I’m sure your friend will find a way to protect herself, with or without you.
If anything, holding you hostage in Adonai is safer for her.
If you were to show up in Elohim, she’d immediately become nothing more than a bargaining chip for them to use against you. ”
He turns, stalking towards the door.
“So whatever hold Abaddon has over you, you’re going to quarantine from it, and then we’ll see if you feel like talking.”
“No, no, no,” I jump up, storming over to him. “I can’t stay here.”
Azael looks at me over his shoulder, his expression hardened and unreadable. “You can, and you will.”
“Azael, please. This is solitary confinement. It’s cruel. I’m going to go insane!”
“Then I suggest you work quickly on figuring out your issues.”
“Wait!” I try to grab him, but he’s too quick.
Shadows and smoke consume him, and a second later, he’s gone.