Interlude #2
But before he could loose the arrow, Sabriel swore, drew his sword, and sprinted into the woods.
The bow nearly slipped from Yuri’s grip.
“What are you doing?” he hissed, rising just enough to catch sight of Sabriel’s silhouette darting through the trees. “Light damn you—”
Sabriel didn’t stop.
Leaves exploded beneath his boots, branches slapping aside as he tore through the undergrowth, his blade catching the sunlight in sharp flashes. The gluttonborn jerked upright at the noise, its black eyes snapping toward the angel.
Sabriel struck.
The gluttonborn reeled at the last second, its body folding backward on gangly limbs that bent at all the wrong angles. It moved faster than it had any right to, striking back.
Yuri broke through the last of the trees, boots skidding on moss-slick ground. He raised his bow in one fluid motion, its light brightening as he drew the string back. He sighted down the line, but Sabriel and the demon were tangled together, and he couldn’t risk the shot. Not yet.
The gluttonborn lunged, jagged limbs stretching wide as it struck at Sabriel’s exposed side. The angel fell to his knee with a gasp, though he didn’t drop his hold on the demon.
Yuri’s bowstring snapped, and the arrow punched forward. A flare of searing silver light poured from the wound as it lodged deep into the beast’s chest. The demon spasmed violently, limbs buckling once, and then it collapsed into itself.
Yuri kept the bow raised a moment longer, and only when he was certain the gluttonborn was dead did he whirl on his partner.
Sabriel stood a few paces off, his blade still drawn, shoulders rising and falling as adrenaline surged through him. His shirt was torn near the ribs where the demon’s claws had caught him, but he seemed oblivious to the blood blooming beneath the fabric.
Yuri stalked toward him, boots crunching over damp leaves.
“What were you thinking? You’re going to get yourself killed!”
“She was in danger.” Sabriel’s voice was quiet, his eyes still fixed beyond the clearing, watching smoke thin through the trees.
Yuri followed his gaze.
The woman had stilled, listening. She’d paused in her movements, head tilted as if she sensed something amiss. But when no further sound came from the forest, she turned and carried the firewood inside, unaware of how narrowly she’d escaped death.
Yuri’s eyes caught on her door just before it closed. Tiny woven charms hung from the lintel, symbols of a faith other than the Divine. “She’s a heathen.”
Sabriel dug his blade into the dirt, cleaning it of ichor before sheathing it. “Only because she hasn’t met us yet.” His eyes fixed on the cottage and the door the woman had disappeared through.
Yet? Yuri watched the way his partner’s fingers curled around his weapon. He’d never seen Sabriel so quiet. So enchanted.
“We’ve completed our mission,” he warned. “It’s time to return to Sanctuary.”
Sabriel didn’t respond. He stepped closer to the clearing’s edge, as if hoping for another glimpse. “She’s all alone out here. Anything could get her.”
“The village isn’t far. She can go to them if she needs to.” Yuri’s tone sharpened. “Let’s leave the demon’s body here for the villagers. It’ll give them reassurance to see the beast felled. And maybe it’ll remind that woman just what kind of monsters are out here.”
Sabriel’s jaw flexed, but he offered no response.
Yuri reached out and clamped a hand to his friend’s shoulder, squeezing hard. He shut his eyes and pictured their home—the stillness of Sanctuary, the quiet hum of the choirs, the sky stretched half in gold, half in stars.
And then they were there.
Tension slid from Yuri’s shoulders the moment the mortal realm fell away. He exhaled slowly, letting the silence of Sanctuary settle into his bones.
Another mission. Another demon slain. No casualties. No human witnesses. By every measure, they’d done well today.
The Celestial Palace was abuzz with its usual flurry of wings and murmured reports, but Yuri didn’t linger. He grabbed Sabriel by the arm and pulled him from the hall, away from the hundred prying ears.
He didn’t speak until they reached the room they shared.
He had every intention of berating his friend. Of reminding Sabriel how reckless, how ridiculous he’d been.
But Sabriel spoke first.
“Did you see her?” There was a reverence in his voice that stopped Yuri cold. “Light, that was the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”
“She’s a human.”
Sabriel turned toward him, brows pinched.
“And humans are beautiful. Why else would our entire existence revolve around protecting them?” He flopped down on his bed with a grunt, then winced, realizing too late that he was still wearing his blade.
With a groan, he sat back up and undid the buckles of his weapon belt, then leaned back on his hands, gaze drifting up toward the carved stone ceiling like he could still see the woman’s face etched into it.
“She didn’t even scream,” he murmured. “Did you notice that? She just kept singing. Like she wasn’t afraid.”
“That’s because she didn’t see anything,” Yuri grumbled, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He stripped off his gear, returning his daggers to their shelf.
Sabriel only smiled, the corners of his mouth tugging into something Yuri recognized too well. That distant, far-off look. The inward turn of the eyes … He was building stories in his head, imagining things that weren’t his to imagine.
He was becoming curious.
“She almost died.”
“But she didn’t.” Yuri turned away, rummaging through the chest beneath his cot for a clean tunic. “Because we did our job. Our job, Sabriel. That’s all this was.”
“But what if we hadn’t made it in time? Someone should warn her. Tell her to be more careful.”
The chest slammed shut, the sound cracking against the stillness of their quarters, loud enough that Sabriel flinched.
“That’s enough.” Yuri reeled on him. “You can’t keep doing this.”
Sabriel blinked. “Doing what?”
“You think this is the first time I’ve seen you attach yourself to something in their realm? You think I don’t know where you were swimming this morning? You can’t keep disappearing, Sab. I can’t keep covering for you.”
Sabriel sat up straighter. “I’m not asking you to. There’s no rule that says I can’t go to the mortal realm.”
“No, but there are rules that say you can’t get attached. You’re playing a dangerous game, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
He only tsked under his breath, waving away Yuri’s concern. “You worry too much. All will be well, just have a little faith.”
Faith had nothing to do with it.
Yuri stared at his partner and his maddening half smile, listening to the warmth that still lingered in his voice.
And in that moment, he knew Xadriel had been right.
If they didn’t fix this soon, Sabriel’s curiosity would endanger them all.