27 A DROP IN THE BUCKET
A DROP IN THE BUCKET
S UNSHINE HAD STAYED IN BED A LONG TIME AFTER Raum left, tangled in the sheets and lost in her thoughts.
First, she’d assured herself repeatedly that Raum was wrong, and there was no possible way her memories had been rearranged.
Then she’d remembered the first time she’d seen him, and how she’d been transfixed by his golden eyes and the glower he projected at the world as if daring it to challenge him.
She’d thought of the desire that awakened in her as they drew closer, the need for intimacy growing as they formed an emotional bond.
Why him and only him? In all of her life, no one else had reached her that way. One would think such a deep connection would take years to form.
Three hundred years perhaps …
Why not look into it? What could it hurt? If she found proof Raum’s theory was wrong, then at least he’d have closure. If his idea truly had no merit, she shouldn’t have felt such resistance to discussing it.
It was almost as if she was deliberately avoiding it … because she was afraid of something.
Surely somewhere in the Empyrean Library there was a record of what he’d done to warrant his punishment. Surely once she had that information, her questions would be answered.
And she owed it to him to try.
Suddenly charged with purpose, Sunshine opened the nightstand drawer and dug out the phone she’d purchased back when she was planning the trap for Raum. She didn’t want to leave things as they had, so she typed out a brief text message to him, explaining where she’d gone.
Then, flashing from the bed to the closet, she dug out a fresh robe from the back and donned it with a small sigh.
Truthfully, she detested wearing traditional angelic garb.
Angels did not suffer from misogynistic delusions, but as celibate beings, they respected each other’s efforts to remain chaste.
The men dressed just as conservatively as the women, for it was well known that one’s gender identity did not determine their susceptibility to sexual desire.
As such, their traditional garb was a gender-neutral robe that hid their body shapes, with subtle slits in the back for their wings.
Sunshine hated feeling like a shapeless sack. She felt most like herself when she dressed in Earth clothes that accentuated her figure. It empowered her, made her feel like her own unique person. Not just a tool to be used by the Realm.
Someone who belonged to no one except the one she chose to give herself to.
Hair braided and robe fastened up to her chin, she studied her reflection in the mirror, pursing her lips. An angel of the Realm once more. Looking at her now, no one would guess that she’d spent the night in bed with a demon, letting him ravish every inch of her body and loving it.
Loving him.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. Answers. She was going to get answers. The rest of her questions and uncertainty about the future could wait.
She took a breath and flashed to the Realm.
Back in the Empyrean Library, she climbed the grand staircase, heading straight for the wing devoted to chronicling underworld events. High above, sunbeams shone through the stained-glass windows, casting a golden glow over the murals painted on the ceiling.
She passed one of Adriel, his long hair streaming behind him, his palm held aloft. The artist had captured his serene face perfectly.
There was another of Raphael, dispensing heavenly justice as a demon wept for mercy at his feet.
Wielding his legendary flaming sword, Raphael’s proud face appeared indifferent to the groveling creature’s pleas.
The demon was red-skinned and horned, and Sunshine suddenly realized it was meant to be Asmodeus.
She winced, halting her steps to study the mural closer. Good thing Asmodeus would never see it, because he was sure to be offended. She doubted very much he had begged for anything, even when Raphael had bound his lust-demon powers and effectively turned him invisible.
As she gazed at the insensitive mockery of what was surely a traumatic moment for Asmodeus, she finally understood Raum’s point of view. Next time they talked, she resolved to approach the subject with more care.
Next time they talked, she vowed to have answers about his past.
Leaving the mural behind, she headed down the long passageway toward the area she sought, ducking under a stone archway. Here, the light seemed dimmer, as if the information contained within tainted the purity of Heaven’s air.
Sunshine perused the shelves, passing rows of texts chronicling such and such a coup for power in Hell, or such and such an uprising, or the rise of some King or Queen of Hell and the fall of another.
While the Empyrean Library was maintained by the Principalities, the angels who actually compiled the information were of the Second Sphere and never interacted with anyone from the Third. The separation was maintained so that the accounts would remain unbiased.
Only those who hadn’t tasted the excitement and confusion of the lower realms could be trusted to remain truly subjective. They had a way of muddling the thoughts of even the deepest thinkers.
She located the section dedicated to cataloging notable demons, and her heart quickened when she found the one she sought. Her hands trembled slightly as she pulled a volume from the shelf with nothing but a name inscribed along the spine:
“Raum, Earl of Hell.”
Feeling like she held something precious, she sank to the floor right there, crossed her legs, and opened the book in her lap.
Its pages contained more information about Raum than he probably knew himself. Immortals lost memories with time, and while Raum wasn’t among the oldest of his kind, he’d still existed long enough that his earliest memories would have faded.
The tales of his early years weren’t pleasant. She was exceedingly glad he’d changed since then because he’d really been quite terrible. She winced as she skimmed some of his notable exploits and decided she would rather not know all the details of his history after all.
No one should be defined by their past—she knew that better than most. She would not allow Raum’s demonic deeds from thousands of years ago to color her opinion of him.
She flipped ahead until she found the time period she was looking for.
Roughly seven hundred years ago—the beginning of Raum’s memory gap, she noted—he’d been given an assignment on Earth in Tunisia, aiding rebels in driving out an occupying sultan’s forces.
Heaven had sent angels in to combat him, but they’d apparently lost that particular dispute, and a point was scored for Hell when they claimed the souls of most of the humans involved.
Funny , Sunshine thought. She faintly recalled being in Tunisia around that time as well.
She turned the page.
As the parchment slipped through her fingers, an image suddenly flashed through her mind. Vanishing as quickly as it came, it left nothing but a faint imprint in her thoughts.
But she saw it once. And once was enough.
Standing beneath the desert sun … Rich bronze skin … Golden eyes narrowed in challenge … My enemy. There would be no rest until he was defeated.
Her senses returned to the Library, her fingers now clenched tightly around the book in her hands. She’d had no recollection of such a moment until right now, which could only mean one thing—
With shaking hands, she scanned the next page, needing to see what came next. But as she started to read, she noticed a rough edge near the spine. She peered closer and froze in shock.
A section of pages had been torn completely from the book.
It was done carefully, the tear so close to the spine it was nearly indiscernible. But there was no mistaking those rough edges.
The record had been defaced.
It was an atrocity to even accidentally damage any book from the Empyrean Library, but this was deliberate. These pages had been purposefully torn away to stop someone from learning what was recorded.
To stop someone … like her.
Heart racing now, Sunshine climbed to her feet. Her head spun, and she felt nauseous. She could feel her careful world starting to crumble around her as all the things she believed in shattered into pieces. Lies. How much of her life was a lie? And how deep did these lies go?
Fighting to draw a level breath, she returned the book to the shelf, and—
“Shamsiel.”
She yelped with surprise at the tall figure suddenly beside her. She’d been so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t seen his approach.
“Raphael!” She clutched her chest. “My goodness, you startled me.”
The archangel smiled sheepishly. “My apologies. I saw you arrive at the Library, and I wanted to speak with you.” He nodded toward the book she’d just returned to the shelf. “I see you’ve been researching the infamous rogues?”
Her nervous heart picked up its pace all over again. There was no point denying it. She couldn’t know how much he’d seen before she noticed him, and lying would only make him suspicious. “I have,” was all she said.
Since she couldn’t hide what she’d been doing, she might as well make use of the situation. Maybe Raphael could help her find what she needed. “I noticed that pages of this volume have been torn.” She pulled Raum’s book from the shelf once more and flipped to the damaged section.
His eyes widened as he trailed his fingers over the rough edge. “Who could have done this?”
“I can’t imagine. Deliberately defacing these records is … unthinkable.”
“You should report the damage to the Tribunal. They’ll look into it, and I’m sure the culprit will be found.”