Chapter 13 - Suriel
“No,” Charlie whimpers.
I glance over from where I’ve been trying to properly safeguard the bedroom.
She trashes again, then her back arches.
Her hand contorts, wrist twisting at a terrible angle, then she slips free of the restraint.
She gasps as if she’s being choked. Her hips lift and her fingers flex, nearly bending backwards to touch her wrist. I move closer to her and hesitate before touching her.
“Charlie, wake up,” I say seriously.
“No, no. I won’t … Can’t … Bad!” Her head thrashes, but the rest of her keeps trembling, her muscles spasming until she whimpers and her eyes grow wet, her face pale.
“Charlie!” I raise my voice.
A low growl echoes in her throat and I hesitate. My hand goes to my ear.
One tug, grasp the sword fully in my hand and-
“Please!” She sobs. “Stop! Stop! STOP!”
Her claws rake across my face. Sharp and unforgiving, not breaking the skin, but trying to. I grab her wrist and try to force it back to the headboard to tie her down again. Her eyes open, but they’re rolled back and she smiles a smile that doesn’t belong on her face.
Her voice is gravelly and low. “I can always reach what’s mine. You think you’ll stop me? You’re a disease dressed in feathers.”
“Charlie, you’re strong. You stabbed Death in the eye, literally. Take control,” I say, giving up on tying her and holding her wrist against the headboard. She bucks and twists under me, trying to fight me, to knee me, to knock me off her.
She’s stronger than she should be, laughing evilly, her eyes still rolled back as the capillaries pop, letting blood spread over the whites of her eyes.
I waver on my path. I could end it now, right now, but something in me isn’t ready. I can’t see her as too far gone, even if the air is filled with sulfur and malice.
“This is right where you want to be, isn’t it? Trying to cover sin with pretty promises and purity. How many times have you sinned without begging forgiveness?” The Devil himself says through Charlie’s lips. Her teeth seem to sharpen before me. “And now, to crave her body - a failing angel.”
“Enough!” I snarl. I struggle to keep both her wrists at bay in just one hand, but I manage to whisper. “I apologize and beg your forgiveness, Charlie.”
Rather than trying to exorcise her, I rip the top two buttons of her shirt. The curves of her breast summons up the lust I thought I’d fulfilled, but she lets out another screaming laugh and it snaps me back to reality.
She’s fighting him and I will too.
I use my nail on her chest, trying to carve an angel rune on her flesh, but not able to break the skin.
“Slip inside her. She’s so warm. She’s so wet. So ready for you. Don’t leave room for the Holy Spirit, just fill her holes.” She laughs the same wrong laugh just as I finish the seal.
I wait for it to work, but the Devil laughs at me through her mouth. “I’m right where I’m meant to be. Join me. Enjoy her. Sin and delight in it.”
Shaking my head, I ignore the temptation. Instead, I cup the back of her head and whisper. “I hope you don’t remember this.”
I kiss her softly, then deeper when her lips part. If the Devil wants to claim her, he’ll have to battle me, too. She’s not alone. I’m her weapon, her shield, hers. I feel my halo pulse and groan as I lick into her mouth, trying to trace the same rune on her chest across her tongue.
She bites my tongue hard and draws back. “ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?!”
I draw back and stare at her.
She’s her again.
The horror on her face, the indignant fury, they’re her. I almost smile. She shoves me with her free hand and trembles as she pulls her legs up and presses them to her chest. She looks down, whimpers, and throws a pillow at me.
“WHAT THE FUCK! You said you wouldn’t hurt me!” She hisses. “You said no. That you wouldn’t and now you’re … What kind of fucked up shit are you into, angel?!”
I look at how she’s shaking, the way she’s trying to shrink in on herself while still defending her body. Another new side to her. One I hate as much as I’m relieved to see. I hug her, just holding her against my chest with one arm while freeing her still trapped wrist.
She’s okay.
I shudder and rest my cheek on the top of her head, closing my eyes as relief courses through me.
It’s just because I haven’t failed.
Not because I was terrified I lost her.
“Don’t touch me! I didn’t give you permission! You don’t get to decide when-”
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Charlie. I wasn’t going to violate you.
I will never do that,” I say in a rush. I don’t smell sulfur.
I don’t feel any unwelcome presence in the room anymore.
I kiss the top of her head, then gently lift her chin, studying her eyes.
“I won’t hurt you, especially not like that. Never like that.”
“Then why … Why are you still touching me?” She asks, more afraid than angry now. Her shivering is getting worse, her teeth chattering and she keeps trying to get her wrist free. I finally undo it and keep stroking her cheeks.
I want her fury back. Not this fragile, lost, terrified look in her eyes, the one that’s begging for safety, affirmation, softness. She may weaponize it, but something about her trembling and the way she almost leans into my touch, makes me give her gentleness anyway.
“I’m sorry. Are you okay? Is your wrist? Your ankle?” I ask.
“I’m fine. I mean, fine enough. Why …” She swallows and meets my eyes. “Suriel, you’re … you’re scaring me. What the hell happened?”
“That was … just a nightmare,” I say gently.
Her whole body tenses, then she gives me a bitter laugh.
“You’re a really, really bad liar.” She clutches my forearms tightly.
“There was so much fire. So many screams, so many people suffering. They kept begging me for help, then h-he grabbed my throat, he dug his nails in and I couldn’t talk. I was just … a puppet.”
She draws back to study my face, her big brown eyes exhausted and terrified. In her left eye, the red staining the otherwise white looks like she’s crying blood.
“You’re here now. You’re with me. Right here.
” I put her hand on my chest. My heart is beating.
It’s faint. It’s too slow, but she stares at the spot before slowly lifting her gaze to mine.
I exhale slowly. I choose to ignore that, but it may help her heart remember the right pattern.
“I won’t let him get you, Charlie. I’m going to keep you safe. ”
“But he …” She trails off for a moment. I stroke under her eye and she licks her bottom lip.
“Please tell me that’s not what’s going to happen.
There were hooks a-and saws and … I don’t even know.
People were swirling in the wind, they were being weighed on scales and cutting pieces of themselves off to try to be even. They …”
“I know. You never should have to see it.”
“Is that where I’m going to end up? Is that … is that Hell?” She asks, and her hand moves over my shoulder, her fingers brushing the edges of the open wounds where my wings should be. “Are you really …”
“You know how bad of a liar I am now,” I say gently, slowly stroking down her neck, then massaging the back of her skull, on either side of her spine. “I’m your angel. The Devil wants you and this was an attempt. You fought, I became your weapon. That is why I’m here.”
She trembles, but nods slowly before shaking her head. “I don’t want to believe.”
“I know.” I don’t want to admit that I understand. It rides the line of blasphemy, but I force the words out because I know she needs them. “I heard you. I can sympathize.”
Her brow furrows, then she suddenly touches my face. “Did I do this?”
If she doesn’t know what happened to her body, then she doesn’t need to know. I won’t tell her about the possession.
“I’ll heal fast,” I say instead of directly answering.
“Why does my chest hurt?” She asks, then looks down and sees the mark still there in red, along with the two ripped buttons. Her eyes lift to me and she pushes away again. “No, this is insane. It was just a stress-dream. You’re not … this isn’t. What the hell is this?!”
“It’s a rune. It was meant to force him out, but-”
“So, you carved some bullshit into my chest and-”
“Charlie, breathe, please,” I beg softly. “This is a lot. A very long twenty-four hours.”
“You did this. You tried to cut me open. You kissed me. You tried to strip me, all because of the Devil?! That’s a bullshit excuse. It was a nightmare! I would have woken up without some fucking prince charming move!”
“Sometimes it’s better not to know,” I whisper, trying to calm us both, to get us back on the solid ground we need to stay on without emotional entanglement. “Ignorance is bliss.”
She stares into my eyes for a long time. “You untied me. You … you’re touching me and …. Was this necessary?”
I nod once.
“Why? It was a nightmare. My own version of hell and you’re crazy. You have to just be crazy.” She asks, looking offended. “You don’t want me to touch you, then you-”
“It’s a rune so you can’t be possessed as long as it’s there. I couldn’t get through your skin with my nail. So, it didn’t work - hence the kiss,” I answer with a shrug. “A nightmare is fine, but possession … We’ll have to adjust how you sleep.”
Charlie stares at me for a long time. She takes a slow breath, but her voice comes out high-pitched and wild. “I WAS FUCKING POSSESSED?!”
“Slightly.”
She looks away from me, but when I try to move, she grips my wrist, holding me in place. She doesn’t believe, not yet, but something’s shifted. She swallows. “This isn’t … holy fuck.”
“I doubt that’s holy,” I murmur, trying to make her laugh or alleviate the growing tension.
To correct the flawed notion that protecting her makes me feel stronger and more capable.
I gently cup her cheek and she leans into my hand.
“You can accept it or reject it, but this is the reality we’re in now. ”
“And if I hate it, that doesn’t change it? If I don’t believe it?”
“It doesn’t change the truth,” I agree.
She sniffles once, then shakes her head. “You should just knock me out for however long this takes. The chance of dreaming is better than captivity with a man that only kisses me to taste the devil.”