Chapter 7
Seven
Castiel
I sat in a special chair off to the side of the raised platform. The high carved wooden back and velvet padding turned it into a throne. It was also deeply uncomfortable and not made for a being with wings.
I squashed the urge to fidget, to lean forward and extend a wing over the armrest. You’ve got to look the part, I reminded myself. After this ends, you’re getting the book from Lilith and flying away. You’ll never have to deal with this miserable group of people ever again.
All but one elder sat in the front row, a line of somber black.
They all blended together for me. I couldn’t remember which name went to which person, and I didn’t care to.
These sanctimonious men made my lips curl.
The oldest elder, who had needed help to step up onto the platform to reach the pulpit, gripped his cane and surveyed the congregation for a silent moment.
Elder Nelson, I thought his name was, the most senior elder who seemed to rule everything now Grimshaw was dead.
He was going to give two eulogies. He opened his mouth and began to pray.
I shifted again in my seat, gritting my teeth against the pain in my wings. My primaries were going to be bent after this. I’d have to fan them out and smooth them straight again. Ugh, that was so much work.
In the echoing silence, a door creaked open.
My eyes shot to the back of the church, where a thin strip of winter light widened down the center aisle.
Lilith slipped inside, head down. The light shone off her pale blonde hair.
She quietly closed the door behind her, then tiptoed toward the front pew where her mother and Absalom’s widow sat.
She wore a thin white shawl draped over her shoulders and tucked into the front of her neckline, something she hadn’t worn at breakfast. Had someone made her go back for it?
The elder didn’t stop praying and no one turned to stare, but I could see the spots of red on her cheeks and the way her shoulders hunched she was convinced everyone was watching her.
Maybe they were, from the corner of their eyes.
This creepy little place probably did all sorts of things to each other.
The pungent smell of rot hovered around the pews. Could the humans not smell it? Were they as unaware of that as they were the decay in their leadership?
Lilith slid onto the pew near the front, sitting beside her mother. On the other side of Mrs. Meadows sat the wan, black-haired woman called Silence. Poor girl had been Absalom Meadows’s wife.
The rest of the funeral went on. At one point I stood while they sang a farewell blessing. I bowed my head when an elder asked us to pray. I nodded thoughtfully and frowned contemplatively during pauses.
Two men, killed during their confrontation with my captain, Gabriel, and so far most people had believed it was Lord Erlik calling them home.
The elders had asked for details, and I’d explained they both fell off a cliff.
And that was that. Though the old one, with the cane and wispy white hair, had a look in his eye I didn’t like.
Strange how quickly these people believed what I said.
Strange how, if you conditioned people, they’d believe anything. I shivered.
It didn’t matter. I’d grab the book and be gone by nightfall.
When the service ended, I bolted out of the chair, giving my wings a chance to stretch and relax.
The people got up from their pews and filed to the front.
Silence, Absalom’s widow, had to stand next to the casket and accept well-wishes.
Mrs. Meadows burrowed her way to the front, too, and stood nearly in front of her daughter-in-law, holding hands, nodding, and wiping away tears.
Reverend Grimshaw seemed to have been the last of his line. He’d inherited the role from his father, and his mother had been dead for several years.
“Where’s Eve?” someone whispered. “She’s his betrothed, isn’t she?”
I stiffened. Eve, the human who had set all this off, had escaped Grimshaw’s abusive clutches and was now living at Mirkwold with Gabriel. Because they were not only in love, they were mates.
Mates.
My lips curled upward at the thought. Who knew a human could be a seraph’s mate?
Certainly not Gabriel. I’d realized it far before he did, partially because of how possessive and protective he’d suddenly turned.
My captain was a competent leader and a good man, but he could be dense at times.
Thank the skies that would never happen to me.
Mates were not common, and I doubted there could be another human mate somewhere in this world.
As if in response to the thought, my heart thumped, making ayim surge in my veins.
Seraphim had a six-chambered heart: four for blood, two for ayim.
The ayim, a clear, glistening fluid, joined our bloodstream through the arteries and veins, and for the most part was indistinguishable.
Except for identifying and solidifying mate bonds and aiding in healing.
Lilith slipped by, pausing at the reverend’s coffin like everyone else. She was avoiding me, and I wasn’t sure why. I’d find out later after I searched the study.
The coffins were closed—at this point they had been around for days, even if it was winter—so everyone simply touched the coffin lids with a silent prayer, then exited the front.
One of the elders had told me over breakfast they’d hired gravediggers to take care of the rest, so everyone could go home or to work.
In a few months, headstones would be put up.
So different from Aerie. But these humans had no wings; they were earth-bound, so I supposed being buried in the earth made sense. In Aerie it was unthinkable, a fate reserved for executed criminals.
My eyes followed Lilith as she weaved around the knots of people. She didn’t seem to have many friends. And the way that elder had been practically salivating over her breasts while she cleaned his place at the table had made my blood boil. He was married and nearly twice her age.
How dare he treat her like that. The anger had caused my fists to clench and my chest to tighten. I’d barely managed a civil word to distract the man. Next time he ogled her it would be my fist that distracted him.
Lilith paused near an exit, halting behind her mother. One of the men from the congregation spoke, his face serious as he likely expressed condolences. He raised his hands, placing one on Mrs. Meadows’s shoulder and one on Lilith’s, a gesture of comfort.
Mrs. Meadows nodded, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.
The man’s hand left her shoulder, but the other still rested on Lilith’s shoulder. His hand began to wander as he spoke, drifting up and down Lilith’s arm.
I gritted my teeth.
Why did these men seem to think they could touch her? Why didn’t she step away? I wasn’t an expert with humans, but I was fairly sure most women didn’t accept that much contact from men who weren’t in their family.
“Herald.”
I turned to see Elder Nelson standing beside me. His hands rested on his cane in front of him, and he, too, watched the congregation depart. “Elder,” I greeted.
“We are grateful for your presence. Especially today of all days.”
I nodded, still watching the men around Lilith.
“Perhaps this evening we can gather the remaining elders and discuss what role you will take in our community.” Although his voice wavered with age, there was a note of steel running through it.
“Certainly.”
Lilith finally pulled away from the man and slipped out the side exit, taking her mother with her. I exhaled.
I turned to the elder, ready to give him my full attention. “With your reverend now in, uh, our lord’s arms, what will happen next?”
He blinked up at me. “Why, that depends on the message you bring us.”
I forced myself to remain calm. “Yes, yes of course.” I had to get out of here before getting stuck in a room with these men.
There was no way they could hurt or force me into anything.
It was just annoying, and I hadn’t spent fifty years looking for a way back home to be stuck with pontificating religious men on the last night before my sedge had answers.
“Excuse me,” I said, offering the man a slight bow. “I must go…pray and commune with our lord.”
“Please, don’t let me keep you.” He leaned on his cane, then watched me step off the platform.
With my wings tight against my body, I followed the last of the humans out the door. They sent me looks over their shoulder—confused, awed, reverent, even envious—and I made sure to keep enough distance between us so no one would touch my wings.
After waiting for the hall to clear, I slipped through the corridors of the church, looking for Lilith. I’d hoped, perhaps expected, she would wait for me when everyone was gone so we could retrieve the book together. But that didn’t seem to be the case.
I rounded a corner and paused. My heart thumped, and I leaned backward in surprise. “Lily.” My eyes went straight to her kissable lips, her hair, the flush on her cheeks.
She started, surprised to see me, too. “Oh. It’s you.”
I swallowed a snort, then sauntered down the narrow hall. The effect was muted by the low ceiling and encroaching walls, unfortunately, but her eyes narrowed as she took in my approach, so it was good enough. I took in the sight, a smirk playing on my lips. “What are you doing?”
Lilith had been crouched at a door, a key in the lock, eyeing it as though she wasn’t sure the key would work and she wasn’t supposed to be here with it. Now she straightened and glanced around, dropping her voice. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Breaking in somewhere you’re not supposed to be?”
She glowered at me.
I grinned. How those eyes sparked blue fire when she was riled. And I hadn’t even started yet.
“I’m keeping my end of our bargain.” She sniffed, turning the key into the lock.
I stepped closer, shielding her from view with my body in case anyone came up behind me.