25 LITTLE RAY OF SUNSHINE #3
“It’s what I call refusing to accept that good must prevail for the sake of all humankind,” she replied firmly. “Look at what happens when evil predominates in this world. I can scarcely wrap my mind around the atrocities that occur.”
Raum looked away again, shaking his head.
“Whatever. Fuck. I don’t want to fight about this with you.
I should’ve known it would come up eventually—you’re an angel.
One of the good guys.” His lip curled. “I just don’t get why you can’t see how fucked up it was that your own people wouldn’t rescue you when you were taken.
I would have torn the underworld apart looking for you. ”
“I know, and I appreciate that.” She took a breath, glad to let the tension dissipate, and then thought about what he’d said.
“I guess I’m not that upset because I’ve had years to think about it.
It was a long time ago, and at this point, I would rather prove myself by regaining my rank than dwell on my many regrets over what happened. ”
“Wait.” His brow furrowed. “You never told me why you lost your rank.”
“Yes, I did. Because of what happened to me.”
“I don’t get it. What’d you do?”
“I allowed myself to be compromised. I endangered the Realm and strengthened the underworld forces by giving them access to the weapons that can be made from my blood.”
Raum stared at her like she’d lost her mind. “You’re telling me that not only did they not try to rescue you, they punished you for being fucking tortured? That’s sick. That’s fucking sick.”
“I endangered the Realm. I failed in my duty.”
“How!”
“I—” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I thought we weren’t fighting about this anymore.”
He said nothing, but the look of horror he was giving her made her stomach shrink with …
embarrassment? Shame? But why? She’d chastised herself countless times for any feelings of resentment that sprung up against the Tribunal for her sentence.
She’d once felt wronged, but she’d convinced herself it was selfish thinking.
She told herself that a good angel would never challenge the Tribunal’s ruling and would accept punishment without complaint.
But Raum’s reaction … made her question things.
“How long ago did all this happen?” he asked.
“About four and a half centuries now. So long, the memories are distant now.”
His eyes widened again. The shock returned to his features. “Four and a half centuries.”
“Yes. Why?”
“That was when my memories were erased. Whatever angel fucked with my head left me with the understanding that it was a punishment for something I’d done, but other than that, I had no idea about anything. I had no idea where I was or how I’d gotten there or even when it was.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she said, “but I don’t think there’s a correlation between our two circumstances.”
“In the dream I had, I was waiting for you in an inn, but you didn’t come.
I remember thinking about how we only met every few months, and neither of us had ever missed a meeting before, and I was worried.
What if that’s why you weren’t there? What if that was the last thing that happened to me before my memory was erased?
What if that’s what I was punished for—being with you? ”
“No, that’s—” She swallowed. “That’s impossible. The timing is coincidental, nothing more—”
“That’s a pretty big coincidence, Sunshine.”
“I’m not missing my memory, remember? I would know if we’d met. I would know if we’d been secretly seeing each other for years, or however long—”
“You wouldn’t if someone fucked with your memories the same way they fucked with mine.”
She froze, staring into his eyes.
It made sense, too much sense, and a feeling of dread washed over her, prickling like pins and needles. It’s impossible , she assured herself. They would never do that to an angel.
Not even as a punishment for a forbidden relationship with a demon?
Her stomach lurched. No, no, no. It’s far too strict a punishment —part of her noticed the hypocrisy of that statement after hearing Raum’s perspective— and besides, no angel of the Third Sphere would have the power to alter the mind of a Principality.
Which was what she had been before her capture.
A Second Sphere angel would.
Like … Adriel.
No! Her mind balked, and she hit a wall in her head. She refused to consider that Adriel could be involved in such a thing. Second Sphere angels were above the politics of Earth and even Heaven. And her mentor was like a father to her. He would never betray her in such a way.
“It’s not possible,” she finally said. “I was a Principality then, and an archangel—the ones who enforce heavenly punishments—wouldn’t have had the power to effect such drastic changes over my mind.
I want to help you regain your memories, Raum, and I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you to have no idea what happened, but I’m not the answer you’re seeking.
It is coincidental that these things happened at a similar time, but that is all. ”
He started to refute her, but she pressed on, determined to quell his false hope.
“If it helps reassure you, I was Shamsiel back then. Shamsiel didn’t break rules and wasn’t conflicted about her duty.
Sunshine is broken because of what happened to her, but Shamsiel was not.
There’s no way she would associate with a demon. ”
Raum stiffened, and she instantly knew she had misspoken. Her words hung in the air between them, and she watched him close himself off. His jaw set, his muscles tightened with tension, and his posture angled away from her. Shutting her out.
“Raum—”
“No, I get it.” He shifted and swung his legs off the edge of the bed. “There’s no chance we knew each other, because you wouldn’t have had anything to do with the likes of me back then.”
“I don’t mean it like that—”
His eyes were hard. “Because at the end of the day, I’m still a lowly demon, and you’re a lofty, heavenly angel, and Raphael’s your hero. And you’re only messing around with me now because you’re fucked in the head, right?”
She flinched. Now they were just taking turns hurting each other.
“Is that your plan? Fuck a demon and get it out of your system? Am I part of your healing journey before you take your rightful place back in Heaven?”
“Raum, stop.”
“Tell me I’m wrong. You’re still planning to get the book and get your old rank back.”
“Of course I am! That is who I am! I was never meant to be Sunshine, a lost and broken guardian. I’m supposed to be Shamsiel, an angel of the Principalities, and I can’t give that up because of a—a distraction.”
Even his hard expression couldn’t hide the flash of hurt in his gaze.
She slapped a hand over her mouth. Another poor choice of words. In the heat of the moment, her justifications were coming out all wrong. “I didn’t mean—”
He stood. He was so beautiful to her, his scaled body more a work of art than the finest piece of sculpture, his features proud and regal. His nakedness was the only reminder of their recent lovemaking, which seemed ages away now.
“I’d never ask you to give that up for me,” he said. “I wouldn’t let you if you tried. But it’s nice to know you weren’t broken up about it to begin with.”
“Raum …” How had she gone from contemplating love to this?
His lip curled. “Glad to help you work the demon kink out of your system.”
“Please don’t leave like this,” she said. “Don’t pretend this is over when we both know it’s not. I misspoke and I’m sorry, but you know what you’re saying isn’t true.”
He stared at her for a long moment before turning away with a shake of his head. “We can talk later when I’m less likely to say something I’ll regret.”
Without waiting for her response, he left the bedroom. He didn’t storm away or slam the door. He just left.
Sunshine sat on the bed, listening to the sounds of him dressing in the other room. He greeted Luna as she trotted over, her little claws clicking on the hardwood, and Sunshine heard the sound of him clipping the leash to her collar as she pranced around in excitement.
If Sunshine was going to stop him from leaving, now was the time. Do it. Tell him how you feel. Tell him he wasn’t an experiment or a way to pass the time.
She didn’t move. She didn’t make a sound.
The door to the apartment opened and closed softly, and the silence that fell in its wake was deafening.