inside him to be complete. One of them. Whole again.
“How sorely you ache for this to end,” Raphael said. “Forgive yourself as we’ve forgiven you. Release yourself of this guilt, Azazel. Let go.”
The words, the name , wormed into his mind, clogging his thoughts until they didn’t make sense. Tension spooled loose from his limbs, left him docile. His eyes slipped shut as he tried to call up an image of Eden, something to make him strong. But her face wouldn’t come.
“You want this, Azazel. We’ve missed you so.” Raphael gave his shoulder a tender squeeze.
Az cupped his hands over his ears. In his palms, he heard the rush of his blood, pounding like waves against the shore. He latched onto the image. You met her on the beach. You couldn’t bear the thought of not knowing her. You fought to be with her. A dozen memories of Eden surfaced, suddenly crystal clear. She loves you as much as you love her. Be strong. He could almost hear her voice, encouraging him.
“Stubborn,” Raphael tsked. “Even before your return, we beckoned you home. Does the honor not please you? To be so needed?”
There’s no honor in this, Az thought, but didn’t give him the satisfaction of saying it aloud.
When there was no response, Raphael looked dismayed. “I won’t deny that they’re fascinating, these Pathless creatures you’re so taken with,” he said lightly. “It’s almost as if they believe they’re still mortal. They don’t seem to understand why they can’t be allowed to survive.”
Az looked up. Had the Bound already begun wiping out the Siders?
“Surely you understand why we must end them. This could be your glory, Azazel. Ridding us of this plague.” Raphael leaned closer, his pale eyes persuasive. “Their ends are swift. The pain lasts but a moment.”
“You stay away from them!” Az yelled, and leaped forward. He swung his fist, but Raphael flashed away before it could connect, reappearing behind him.
Az spun to see Raphael’s grin stretched wide with victory. “Come now,” Raphael said gently. “Was it truly so hard to speak?”
A thousand curses died unuttered. Raphael had wanted him angry, wanted to prove that his silence was breakable. And he’d done just that. The fire inside Az scorched red-hot, but he ground his teeth and swallowed the heat down.
“You’re returning to us in the smallest ways,” Raphael said. “But you are returning.”
Never, Az thought with all his might. He shook his head, but without saying the word aloud, it did nothing except make him feel weaker, beaten.
“You had the will to use your wings. The longer you remain, the more you’ll see the light.” He scrutinized Az’s face, studying him. “Gabriel, too, struggles with his emotions. At first, some suggested to trust him would be a mistake. Fortunately, he erased our doubts.” Raphael strolled toward the door, his fingers clasped behind his back. “Perhaps your own temptation will ease once Gabriel fulfills his promise,” he mused.
A cold current passed through Az, electric fear. Spoken aloud, promises were binding, the compulsion to complete them even stronger than the desire to confess sins. “What temptation?” The words were out before he could stop himself. “What promise?”
Raphael looked as if he’d been offered a gift. “He pledged to end the Sider who’d caused his Fall.”
“Eden?” Az whispered in shock. “Gabe promised to kill Eden?”
Raphael’s cheer dimmed, his face forlorn. “Your heart is so heavy, Azazel. When her suffering ends,” he said quietly, “I pray yours will, too.”
CHAPTER 3
O nce, Eden had asked Az what Upstairs was like. He’d told her it was a figment of the imagination, filled in with the fantastical thoughts of those mortals whose paths led Upstairs. The Bound themselves didn’t dream, incapable of contributing to the beauty around them.
You’re not one of them, Az reminded himself. Still, despite his efforts, everything around
Gillian Doyle, Susan Leslie Liepitz