Absolute Surrender (53 page)

“Ah, a bad boy—” Frowning, she leaned forward. The man looked up, revealing one of the most compelling faces she’d ever seen. She sensed the raw grief beneath his icy façade.

Her chest suddenly hurt and she rubbed it, her other hand reaching out to him. Instead, she distorted the image and it dissipated.

“So much sorrow,” she whispered. “What happened to him?”

Roth manifested a tall stool and sat down, tucking his wings close to his body, but still they swept the floor. He leaned forward and braced his arms on his knees.

He shrugged. “What happens to most people when they lose loved ones? It’s the circle of life.”

Her mouth open then closed at such callousness from an angel, when all she wanted to do was comfort the man. How could anyone witness such pain and do nothing?

“I am an angel,” he answered her unspoken question. “I don’t do emotions.”

She looked at him with pity in her eyes. “I feel sorry for you then.”

He eyed her contemplatively then shifted on his seat. “All right. If I do this for you, if I speak to him, will you do something for me?”

“Why is there always a price for a favor?” she asked, setting the candle-stand back on the nightstand.

“You are selfless, little one, but nothing in life is ever free,” he told her. “Especially for those of us who live forever. As you now do.”

She did? “Okay, what do you want?”

“First, finish the nectar in the glass. Second, remain what you were meant to be.”

“Healer of the realms,” she murmured. “How come I know that but I can’t remember anything else?”

“Because you were born to be the
Curantii
. Only the descendant of Zarias can take that role. Your ancestor saw to that.” His expression changed ever so slightly, as though he disliked talking about it.

“Why would Zarias do that?”

“Seems like I have my work cut out for me, then, to teach you about your stubborn ancestors. First, I need your answer. Eshana?”

“Why do you call me that?” she asked, frowning again.

“It’s the name you were given at birth.”

“Oh...”

“Your answer?”

“Okay.”

“Just like that?”

“Yes.”

Roth nodded. “All right then. Rest now, as the
Curantii
you will need your strength.”

“Who are you?”

The hint of amusement was back in his eyes. “Now you ask.”

“Yes, because I’m curious why one like you would bribe me.”

He was silent for a long moment then he said, “You mortals are unique. To answer your question, I am
the
one with the power to thwart the Fates. I am the Ultimate Fate. Your fate, Eshana, has been, as Michael would say, ‘screwed over once too often.’ He asked me to rescind your destiny as the Healer.”

“Who?”

“The Archangel.”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes. “Why would
Michael
ask you to change
my
fate?”

His amethyst eyes burned fiercely. “Because when an injustice is done, it screws with the natural order of things. That’s when I step in.” He flowed to his feet and the stool vanished. “Remember our deal.”

“So, did Michael have to do you a favor, too, for asking this of you?”

“But, of course.”

***

Aethan laced his fingers through Echo’s. Three weeks had passed, since she’d been shot. Three weeks of sheer hell. He’d been prepared to end his life with hers on that fateful day. But Michael had intervened, telling him to listen.

And then he heard it. A heartbeat, so faint only his exceptional hearing could pick it up. But his happiness was short lived. For three long weeks she’d remained in a coma, her wound showing no signs of healing. Dark thread-like veins leading from the lesion on her chest had crept over her breast and into her neck.

“Come back to me, Echo, wherever you are now. It hurts to breathe with you not here.” He pressed a kiss to her cool palm. “Gods, I miss you.” His eyes burned with unshed tears. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I failed to keep you safe...Echo, do you hear me? Squeeze my hand so I know you’re still in there. Please.”

Nothing.

Just unending silence in his soul, where she once blazed, an iridescent light, full of life.

The door opened and Michael strode in, dressed in his patrolling gear. “How are you holding up?”

Resentment churned to a vicious rage in him. Aethan placed Echo’s hand back under the covers and faced the Archangel. “Do I look like I give a rat’s ass at pleasantries? It’s been three weeks. Three fuck—” He gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to lose his temper in front of his comatose mate. “Her wound shows no sign of healing. It deteriorates. You were supposed to find out where she is and bring her back. You came back with nothing.”

“She lives. That is what matters.”

Bastard! His fucking prophecies were all that he cared about!

Aethan stalked out of the room. He had to get away from Michael before he did something regrettable.

CHAPTER 36

Aethan jerked upright, uneasy now. He’d fallen asleep in his chair. Something he’d never done while sitting with Echo. The passing months had left him raw with suppressed emotions, edgy enough to go back into the gym and pound the heavy bag until his knuckles were raw.

He dragged a hand over his face and stopped, his eyes narrowing on the strange male sprawled in an armchair on the opposite side of the bed.

“Who the hell are you?” he growled.

“That’s not important. I wanted to see the female in the flesh. The one you fight so hard to keep, even though she remains in another world.”

The male came over to Echo’s side, unfolding his gleaming black wings edged with ice. The movements created a soft breeze around them, stirring the ends of Echo’s hair.

His amethyst gaze lingered on her for a moment then came back to Aethan. “Let her leave this realm, and I will grant you anything you desire.”

Aethan pushed slowly to his feet. “Get the fuck away from her.”

The angel watched him carefully, undeterred by his anger. “You sure there’s nothing you want?”

Childish laughter filled the room. ‘
A’than
!’ The voice caught at his heart.

Bastard.

“If you mean Ariana, I loved my sister. It took me three thousand years, and the love of my mate, to point out that it was an
accident
. Now, leave.”

“Very well. But first, I have a little story for you. So why don’t you reel in that
bad boy
attitude and sit?” The angel sat again, his wings spread over the armrests.

“I am Roth—” He paused, amusement crossing his face. “My name is Marmaroth. I will keep it brief. Eons ago, a male was born with a unique ability. While all immortals have their powers, he was special, born in the fury of Whitefire.”

Aethan stiffened. “You want to spout that bullshit, find someone else to listen to you.”

“Sit down, Empyrean, I made a promise and I’ll keep to it.” Roth waved his hand back to the armchair Aethan had vacated. “The boy, despite his powers, didn’t know his capabilities. None did, until the day a tragic event occurred. But you see, herein is where things take on a different context.”

Aethan’s fists clenched, but he remained at the side of the bed.

“He wasn’t allowed near his sister, for one important reason. Had he done so, he would have allowed a cataclysmic prophecy to unfold. He had to leave Empyrea. Allatus had to make sure you were banished instead.”

Aethan’s rage grew. “You’re telling me, my sister had to die, so I could be banished?”

“When Ariana died, had you used your powers, you would have given her life again, and
you
would have stayed, never to leave Empyrea.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You were born in the flames of God’s wrath. Not only do you take life, but you can give it, too. Only
you
must want it. When a person dies, if in that split second you intervene with your powers, you can give them life again. And that is a gift none have, save you—”

“Then why couldn’t I save my mate, if I have this amazing gift?” he snapped. “She hovers between here and wherever the hell the other place is.”

“You, alone, keep her chained to this realm. She needs time for the transition to complete.”

“What transition?”

“When her heart stopped beating, you brought her back. Your touch is one of immortality. Had she not died, she would have lived a very long, but
mortal
life.”

Aethan sat down.

She would be immortal.
She wouldn’t die. Wouldn’t leave him.

He reached for Echo’s hand and pressed her palm to his lips. Gods, how much longer must he endure living without her? Truth was, he’d wait eternity if it meant she’d come back to him.

He heard Roth say something else, but he didn’t care. He just wanted him gone.

The angel stood.

“Wait,” Aethan said, stopping him. “Ariana?” He had to know about his sister.

“You had to leave to fulfill your destiny, and Ariana’s fate lay elsewhere. There is always a price to be paid. Your mother knew that when she
fell
.”

Roth set something on the bed, a pearlescent feather that had streaks of silver running through it. A feather exactly like the one his father had in remembrance of his mother’s wings.

“My mother’s feather. Where did you get this?”

“Didn’t say it was hers, did I?” The angel shimmered then disappeared.

Aethan picked up the feather and the scent of wildflowers hit him. “Ariana,” he whispered, his pain, his guilt for his sister’s death finally healing.

Ariana had taken his mother’s place in the Celestial Realm.

***

Five months later:

It was the darkest hour before dawn. The coolness of the morning would soon vanish as summer made its way in with a ruthlessness that left one gasping and wishing for the cold of winter. Sparkles of dew hung like diamonds on the leaves of the shrubs.

Exhausted, Aethan declined joining the others for their after-patrol meal. He trudged up the stairs and walked into his bedroom. Shrugging off his coat, he tossed it over a chair then willed the candles in the room to flare to life. He preferred their soft healing light to the artificial ones these days.

Lila brought the candles over when she visited Echo. She and Kira came by daily to check on her progress. He had hoped, with them around, somehow she’d respond, but nothing. Even her guardian had come, except it was always when they were out on patrol.

Aethan glanced at the bed as he headed to the dressing room and his heart stopped. The bed was empty.

He wheeled around, scanning the dimly lit room. “Echo?”

Terror filling him, he rushed to the dressing room. She wasn’t there. He sped back to the bedroom, scanned for her, then stilled. The bathroom door was shut and locked. He strode over, slowly, laid trembling hand on the door, and willed it to unlock and open.

There in the center of the bathroom she stood, wrapping a bath towel around her slender form, water dripping down her face. Her hair had lost its choppy style. Longer now, it brushed her shoulders.

She turned and her eyes widened in alarm when she saw him.

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I wanted a shower but I didn’t know whose room this was and—hey–hey! What are you doing? You can’t come in here!”

He stopped then. The sight of her brought him to his knees. He shook his head, could barely see her for the tears in his eyes.