Chapter Eighteen
Eve
The village wasn’t too far if you were willing to hurry, and I made it there in under an hour.
The worn, gray buildings sprung from the brown grasses of the moorland.
I glanced up and down the meandering road that led in and out of town, curving around the rises and falls.
No wagons, stagecoaches, or travelers dotted the horizon.
My heart didn’t ease yet. Winter Solstice had passed, so it had only been a few weeks since I’d seen Silence, Lilith, and Absalom, but I knew Zor wasn’t a very patient man.
I picked up my skirts to keep them free of mud in the lane and walked to the tavern. The familiar scent of smoke, burnt bread, and overly sweet beer hit my nostrils. After letting my eyes adjust to the light, I walked to the bar. “Good afternoon.”
The same middle-aged barmaid scrubbed a sticky stain on the countertop. She glanced up, her eyes sweeping over me. She must’ve decided I wasn’t a paying customer, for she looked back down at the bar.
“Excuse me,” I tried again, clearing my voice.
She sighed. “Yes?”
“I’m curious if any outsiders or travelers have appeared lately.”
She snorted. “You’re an outsider.”
I clenched my jaw.
“How is it, working with that angel thing up in the manor? Is he the fire and brimstone type angel, or is he one of those beings who make women do things?” She glanced up again, eyes gleaming with curiosity. Of course she recognized me. The village was far too small to pretend otherwise.
I sputtered, offended. “He’s a gentleman.
” Which was not true at all. Gabriel would’ve scoffed at that term, for it was far too mild and human a word to describe this aristocratic warrior in exile.
Then curiosity hooked me. “Wait, what beings make women do things?” As far as I knew, our world had only humans.
Perhaps long ago we’d had more, but if so that was lost to time.
This world was full of humans and, for the past fifty years, Seraphim and the Gar.
I knew very little about the Gar, for Gabriel refused to speak of the war. Were they vicious and cruel? What stories did the Gar tell of Engiel and Onyxa?
The barmaid sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Never mind that. I don’t see why we got one of those dangerous creatures living in our neighborhood. I’ve seen the other one a few times, with the brown wings, and he looks like he could slit all our throats in our sleep.”
I blinked. I’d forgotten how suspicious humans would be of the seraphim. I’d grown too close to Gabriel. “He’s not bothering anyone. He doesn’t even charge rent.”
She snorted. “What an endorsement. He’s making you spread your legs, isn’t he? I hope he hasn’t pounded your brain out of your skull. Remember they’re dangerous, girl.”
“Other travelers as guests?” I insisted, frustrated with the conversation and returning to the important topic. “A few stayed last month. It could be the same ones.”
“Aye,” the woman told me. Finally. “Three men and a woman. Just up the stairs.”
“Thank you.” But my heart sank and my stomach rolled over in concern. They were here. Early.
Did I confront them? Run back to Mirkwold?
Pack my bags and disappear? If Zor had sent Absalom and other elders out here, then I was rapidly running out of time to escape a bloody flogging and week in the prayer closet.
He cared about Gabriel more than me, so if I could slip through his fingers while they were trying to convince Gabriel to be their in-house god to worship, then that was my best chance.
Yes, I needed to do that. I needed to flee.
I hoped I had enough time to tell Gabriel goodbye. “When’s the next coach passing through town?”
“Tomorrow noon.” She eyed me. “Maybe you still have a brain in that skull after all.”
Tomorrow. So soon.
Probably not soon enough to get away from Zorababel’s guard dogs. But far too soon to leave Gabriel. Pain shot through my chest.
“Thank you,” I murmured. “I’ll be back to buy a ticket tomorrow.” I turned and strode for the door. I reached for the handle, but before my hand lit on the rusty piece of iron, the door swung inward.
I hopped back a step to avoid a collision with the worn wood. Daylight spilled through the threshold, silhouetting the shape of a man. “Excuse me.” I ducked my head and stepped aside, my thoughts a million miles away, thinking of where I might run and what sort of job might take me.
“Look who it is.”
The familiar voice struck my ears, causing my head to jerk up. The smug, condescending tone made the hair on my body stand up. I glared.
“Eve Lovejoy, my erstwhile betrothed.” Zorababel Grimshaw smiled at me, his voice forceful and loud as always, as if he was constantly giving a sermon.
“Zor,” I stammered. “Wh-wh-what are you doing here?” My thoughts and half-made plans scattered like chaff in the wind. My heart raced and my hands turned clammy. I glanced behind me, looking for other exits. There were none.
Memories of birch switchings, silent treatment from the congregation, crusts of bread for members isolated in the prayer closet flew through my mind.
I faced him, squaring my shoulders. “Reverend. What do you want?”
* * *
Gabriel
I rubbed my chin, thinking about everything Castiel and Azrael had shared over lunch. We piled the dishes on the tray and set it off to the side.
“Azrael,” I said finally.
He perked, his wings tightening at his back. “Yes, sir?”
“Can you discreetly find out more about this group?”
Azrael nodded.
“Discreetly,” I emphasized. “I don’t want any of us showing up on the front of their newspapers again. We never want any human to learn about our ayim and the saltwater concern.”
Azrael’s lips twisted, and Castiel huffed.
“Eve said her church—cult—has a fascination with the day we Fell. They’re convinced it means we’re heralds of death or going to ascend as gods.”
“I just want to ascend home,” Castiel muttered.
I winced, the old pain pricking at me.
“It’s not your fault,” Castiel quickly added.
“I might eventually believe that,” I answered.
“That’s why I built this.” I gestured across the gallery.
“I’ve been so caught up in how I failed everyone that I have been failing you all over again.
If we’re stuck here, it’s my responsibility to make it as pleasant as possible.
I bought this manor for us all to gather, but then never made it habitable. ”
Castiel shot me a sly look. “What does Eve mean in all this?”
The ayim in my body pulsed faster at her name. “Nothing.”
“Truly? Because what I saw isn’t nothing.”
I rubbed my chest. “She’s the best humanity offers. Kind, patient, cheerful. Industrious.” A smile slid onto my lips despite my best efforts. Part of me was glad we were trapped here, so I could stay with her.
“Pretty,” Castiel added to my list.
My wings ruffled. “She’s beautiful. And you don’t need to go seducing her.”
He held his hands up in surrender, a human gesture. He smirked. “I would never go near another seraph’s mate.”
My mind screeched to a halt. I blinked. “Wh-what did you say?” I stammered.
Mate?
“Your mate,” he said easily, as if he wasn’t cracking my world apart.
“She’s not my mate.” But the ayim pounded through my veins. Eve was incredible and lovely and I cared deeply for her, but she was human.
“Gabriel.” Castiel’s voice grew serious.
Azrael stared between me and Castiel, eyes wide.
“I d-don’t see how that’s possible.” My wings shifted and I crossed my arms. I tried to think back to everything I knew about seraph mates.
Castiel’s wings hitched up against his back. “Does the idea so displease you? I thought you loved her.”
I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “Yes, of course I do.” But my confusion and panic was overriding all other emotions. “But humans do not have mates.”
Castiel stepped toward me. “Think. You’ve been rubbing your chest anytime she leaves the room.”
“That’s because it hurts.”
“When did it start to hurt?”
I fall silent, thinking back. It hurt the very first day I met her, when I stood in the shadows of the gallery and looked down on the most beautiful human I’d ever met. And the pain didn’t go away until we were touching one another—either sleeping against one another or making love.
I was possessive of her in a way I’d never felt with past lovers. My chest lightened whenever she was near. I craved her.
“A human as a mate?” Azrael’s face was expressionless, but disdain and disgust echoed through his words.
I whirled. “Don’t talk about her like that!” My wings flared behind me in an aggressive stance. My body had known, even if my mind refused to acknowledge the possibility.
Azrael’s eyes widened. “Forgive me, Captain. I see she truly is your mate.” He swallowed hard. “I…I can accept that, if I must.”
I bristled and opened my mouth to castigate him.
“Have you ayim-bound to her yet?”
The question gave me pause. “Um, no?” In mating ceremonies mates would cut open a vein and mix their ayim and blood.
Castiel grinned. “I suppose you won’t be looking for a way back to Aerie anymore. Unless she’s willing to go with you.”
All desire to return to Aerie faded. My wings twitched. “If Eve is my mate…” The confusion was slowly fading, slowly making space for other emotions.
Castiel nodded.
“If Eve is my mate…” Anticipation and nervous energy sparked through my body.
“Mates are to be treasured above all else,” Azrael said with a grimace. “Can a seraph even do that with a human?”
With Eve? My heart beat faster. “Absolutely.”
Hope, that strange, feathery feeling, fluttered in my chest. Worry fluttered in my stomach. “Do…do you think a human would accept that? They only have marriage. And only marry other humans.”
Castiel shrugged. “You know her better than we do. You’ll have to ask her.”
Wary, anxious joy began to trickle through my mind. Sharp and tender, frightened and hopeful at once—I didn’t think my body could contain them all.
“I need to talk to her!” I glanced around, as if she was hiding behind some of the gymnasium equipment. “I need to see if she will accept me.”
“She will accept you. If it makes you happy, then it is worth it.” A muscle in Azrael’s jaw feathered. I nearly laughed, suddenly in a wonderful mood, at how he was trying so hard to accept something distasteful to him. Because we were friends, brothers, always together. All of us.
And now, Eve.
If I could convince her. “I should woo her,” I said suddenly. “Castiel, quick, how do humans like to be wooed?”
He gave a confused laugh. “How should I know?”
“You like humans,” I said impatiently. “You know them better than the rest of us.”
He ran a hand through his hair, eyeing me with surprise and amusement, as if my predicament was entertaining. “I think you should ask her.”
“Right. Yes. Of course.” I crossed my arms, dropped them to the side, then crossed them again.
I need to do this. A mate was a gift from the heavens.
And that it would be Eve? I grew more and more excited at the idea.
More grateful it was someone I cherished already.
I would do anything to be with her. If we were in Aerie, I’d ask the king to strip me of my noble echelon so I could live with her in marriage.
But we were here, in her world, and I was grateful, suddenly so grateful, that I’d Fallen.
I should find her. Right now.
Azrael cleared his throat.
My wings drooped, the primaries trailing the ground before I lifted them back up into place. I could not leave my sedge like this, especially since I invited them. It was rare to get Azrael for a long visit. I worried for him, like I did all of my sedge.
“Azrael, tell me where you’ve been lately. And let us speak more about what details I want you to learn regarding these people hunting us down.”
He nodded.
I would find Eve later. I would woo her. I would kiss her and embrace her and take her flying and show what a good mate I could be. Perhaps she’d consider staying with me.