Lacrimosa by Christine Fonseca Read Free Book Online

Nesy. But why? How?
    If she's even human at all…don’t trust her…she almost had you…
    Azza’s voice bellows through me, silencing my own tortured musings. Not human . I never considered that possibility. Nesy’s image fills my thoughts. The smell of her hair, so like Elle’s. The curve of her waist. The life in her eyes. Nothing about her is off. She is human. Completely human.
    Which means she can’t be Elle.
    Elle’s dead .
    I cast aside my thoughts and focus on my anger. Nesy has awakened more than just my memories of Elle. She’s rekindled my hatred for Azza. I’ve committed too many heinous acts at his bidding. Paid too high a price for one choice made so long ago. Each thought stirs the Beast inside, a reminder that I will never escape my fate. Never escape my choices.
    I plop on my couch-bed, weak from hunger and guilt. My entire body aches for the one thing it can never feel again—the feel of Elle’s touch on my skin.
    The Beast screams for food. I know I won’t be able to stave off the hunger much longer. But I can’t continue this charade either. I hate everything I am, everything I’ll soon become.
    I close my eyes, my head in my hands. I need to get it together. Need to find a way through this hell. I look up, staring at the only piece of art I’ve ever owned. Michelangelo’s Fall from Grace . Not an original, of course. But something I’ve kept with me for decades.
    The picture screams of my life: Adam and Eve, their fall from Eden, the human-faced serpent.
    The Beast again stirs inside, begging to be fed. I ignore my urgings, feel my own rage and disgust surge. The picture begins to change as my torment increases, swirling to life. It morphs into a replica of me, Nesy, Azza. I watch as the figures dance across the paper, highlighting the end of everything I was.
    Mesmerized, my eyes begin to close. And I fall…
    Into my past.
     
    I’m running towards the screams that rip through the dark forest. My humanity slips away with every step, Mikayel, Sariel. Keep her safe. Please.
    “You’re too late.” Azzaziel steps through the trees, standing in shadow. His laugh fuels my rage.
    “What do you want from me, Dark One?”
    “You know who I am. I’m flattered. Most humans don't recognize me, even when I’m standing right next to them.” Azzaziel steps into the filtered sunlight, his black hair, solid black eyes and tangles of Celtic markings burned into his neck giving away his true identity. “But then, you aren’t like most humans, are you?”
    My eyes widen. Chills explode down my spine. “Azzaziel.” I choke on his name.
    “And you must be the Council’s newest addition. Aydan, is it?”
    My human body goes stiff.
    “Don’t worry, I’d recognize you anywhere, even if you’d been more careful. But, you really should practice better control; prevent your angelic skin from glowing through your human form. Otherwise these people may think that you’re possessed. And you know what these pagans do to the ones they think are possessed, don’t you?”
    I ignore him and push through the thicket. Elle’s body is sprawled out on the forest floor, bending at odd angles. Her flesh is torn and shredded around her legs and torso.
    “No!” I scream, collapsing next to her. I pull her tattered body into my arms. “No.” My voice falters. “I’m so sorry, my love. This is my fault. I never should have let you go.”
    We rock back and forth, my body trembling.
    My dream changes in front of me, as Elle impossibly turns into Nesy. I try to fight against the nightmare now playing out in front of me, the hell I’ve survived all this time. But it’s no use. I can never escape.
    I carry the broken body of Elle-turned-Nesy into town.
    Azzaziel watches, an amused look on his face. “Are you sure you want to get involved? I doubt your bosses would approve.”
    Like I’m listening to him at all.
    The dream’s images come faster and faster. The farmers and hunters running after a wolf.