Don't Read in the Closet: Volume Four (88 page)

merely do our bidding because it is what you are bound to do, true or

false?”

“True,” Devon replied quietly. He kept his eyes downcast as was

required, and for that he was thankful. He could not let them see how

close to crying he was. He hated this part of who he was. He did not

trust himself to care about anyone, never mind love them. Didn’t they

know who his father was? Mider would strike when none of them

would expect it. He didn’t play by Gagda’s rules. He played by his

own. Devon felt the calling of his Creator every single hour he lived

among Gagda’s people. He fought every day to ignore the urge to go

to Mider, and seeing Anson, kissing him, holding him in his arms kept

that urge at bay.

“Is it true you are still incapable of love?”

“Yes, my Feitheoirs.”

“Bring him in here,” one of them directed to a guard at the

chamber door.

“Young Devon, what you’re about to see is no one’s fault but your

own. You will live with this upon your conscience, knowing for all

eternity it is your inability to give and receive love that has provoked

this act.”

Devon watched the door the Feitheoirs had focused on. It opened

and Gordon walked in, holding someone in his arms, someone

covered in a white sheet, hiding his features from all. And the only

time this happened was when another angel had perished. His heart

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quickened and he fought the urge to run to Gordon, who stood still,

holding the body as close as possible.

“Devon, because of your negligence, we lost this angel two nights

past. On your last assignment, you were asked if there was anything to

keep you close to this level and you answered no. True or false?”

Awareness began creeping its way into his mind and heart. It was

a small body Gordon held in his arms.

“Answer the question!”

Devon jumped and answered. “True.”

“Uncover the body of our most beloved angel.”

Devon watched as things moved in slow motion. Gordon laid his

bundle on the altar in the center of the room. Devon watched Gordon

carefully peel the sheet back from the face he had thought of, night

after night, since the first day he’d seen him nearly two and a half

years ago. “No!” The first thought that came to him was Mider had

found his little mate and destroyed him to teach Devon a lesson for

not going to Mider when he’d been summoned. Mider did not play

fairly. Devon shook his head in denial. This had to be a ruse. It could

not be real. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, his head

throbbing, threatening to rob him of consciousness. “My angel,” he

said between panting breaths. “Give him back! He is mine. I didn’t

know.” He jumped to his feet and ran to his mate. “Anson!” He fell

across Anson’s lifeless body. He held Anson’s face in his hands and

willed him to open his eyes. “Anson, my little angel, wake for me.

Look at me.” He waited for a few minutes, then leaned in to listen for

a breath, a sigh, anything that might indicate his angel was still alive,

but there was nothing. Devon looked at the peaceful features, the coal

black eyelashes that rested upon porcelain skin, the pert nose and

dimpled chin, the full lips posed in breathless slumber, and he cried.

“You’re being charged with his death. You neglected a gift from

our Gagda, and you must be punished.”

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Devon ran his fingers over Anson’s face, pausing near those cold

lips, and moaned in despair. “Anson, please, open your eyes and look

at me. I didn’t know.”

“What didn’t you know, Devon?”

“I didn’t know he was dying. I made him better.”

“Such a fool! His heart bled until there was nothing left. He

perished because he gave you the gift of your freedom. He perished

out of love for you.”

Devon looked at Gordon to see if what they said was true. He saw

the pain, the anger, and the sadness in those eyes and knew the truth.

“No! He’s my mate, bring him back to me.” Devon gathered Anson’s

body in his arms, picking him up from the altar he’d been placed

upon. “Please. I’ll do better. I’ll give him whatever he wants.

Anything he needs. He is pure and kind and doesn’t deserve this. Take

me instead. Give him my life’s blood. Bring him back.”

“You’re right. He didn’t deserve your neglect, but it is all you had

to give to him,” one of the Feitheoir replied in a voice filled with

emotion. “Anson was a sacred, rare angel, one who can no longer be

reproduced. His kind perishes all too easily, yet we had hoped his fate

would be different with you. Gagda created him for you because he

loves you and believes in you, but you do not believe in yourself. You

do not love yourself, therefore you cannot love another. You care only

for yourself, Healer, and you intentionally committed a grave wrong

against Anson. You denied Gagda’s gift to you, and now we all will

pay for the sin of your ingratitude. Gagda trusted us with a rare gift

and you, Devon, took him away.”

“I am guilty. I did this to him. Please, give us another chance. Let

me prove to you that I can love him and keep him safe. On my oath,

he’ll never know another day of unhappiness. Please, I beg for your

mercy.”

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The panel looked at one another and after several long moments,

one of the council spoke, “We cannot let this go unpunished. You

must pay for the crime committed.”

“Anything. Anything, but please, bring him back. You have the

power to do it.”

“Lay young Anson upon the altar.”

Devon did as he was told, gently kissing his mate’s cold lips

before standing.

“Give him your house mark.”

Devon looked at them in confusion but refused to question an

order. He placed his hands above Anson’s chest and closed his eyes,

concentrating. It took him no more than a minute to complete, and

when he opened his eyes, he traced his fingers over the tribal design

now covering Anson’s chest. He then said a small, silent prayer,

devoting his life to his mate.

“Bring him unto us.”

Devon heard the words and looked down, waiting for a sign. He’d

witnessed this on only one other occasion, and it had left him in awe.

Anson’s body twitched involuntarily and his eyes fluttered open. They

were glazed and he seemed slightly disoriented, but they were open.

Anson was alive once more. “Anson? You’re okay. You’re going to

be okay.”

Anson looked up at Devon, clearly lost. He rolled his head and

spotted Gordon. He grinned and said, “I’m tired.”

Gordon sighed in relief. He placed his hand on Anson’s chest and

smiled. “I know, little one. Welcome back.”

“Anson, do you know who I am?”

Anson looked back at Devon and seemed to concentrate for a

while but shrugged and said, “No, I’ve never met you. Who are you?”

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Devon’s eyes grew wide and his breath caught in his throat. He

looked to the panel of powerful angels. “You made him forget me?

He’s my mate. How could you do this to us?”

“Silence, Healer! And pay close attention. We did not do this, you

did. You denied him your love; something so easy to give and

something that pays you back tenfold. You denied him your mark;

you gave him nothing but pain. You killed him. Why would he want

to remember any of that? Do you truly want him to remember any of

it?” The councilman questioned. “Take him away.”

Once the Abrafo had Devon apprehended, the Feitheoirs all stood

and faced him. Each of them wore long, white robes with hoods that

threw their faces into shadow, leaving only their mouths visible. They

were a force with which to be reckoned, and they scared many. Devon

looked at them, directly; he was too angry to be scared. “I care about

him very much!”

“It’s not enough, too little, too late. You cannot be with him. Your

mark will keep him alive, and he will go on to find a new mate; it has

been ordained. Thanks be to our Gagda for hearing our plea. Your

mark will serve to remind others of the consequences when mates do

not fulfill their fate. Selfishness is an immoral trait, one you learned

from the humans below. Because you covet their ways, you are

banned from Nèamh. You will live among the humans on Domhan,

those of whom you are so fond. Your wings will be severed, your

healing powers drained, and your memories of Nèamh and of this life

will be erased.”

Devon paled and stepped back. “Please,” he said, but to no avail.

He was restrained by the Abrafo.

“There is much to be learned from this experience, Devon. There

can be peace and happiness in your life, but only if you come to

understand what it means to love and to place your trust in another.

Until that time, you will live in exile. Goodbye, Devon.”

Devon looked back at Anson one last time. Anson leaned into

Gordon and looked at Devon in amazement. The thought of never

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seeing his angel again was enough to bring Devon to his knees. Were

it not for the Abrafo holding him, he knew he would have caved.

“Anson, I’m sorry I wronged you. I didn’t know. I…”

Anson watched as the blonde angel disappeared before their eyes.

“I’m sorry, Anson.”

Anson turned from the observation window and nodded. “He’s

having a hard time down there.”

It was the hardest thing my Father has ever demanded of me. As I

lay on that altar, though dead to him, I heard it all. I heard the anguish

and the sorrow in his words.”

“I know.”

“I wanted to run into his arms that day. I almost told him I

remembered him, but in the end, I could not go against my Father’s

orders. Do you think he’ll ever learn to love?”

Gordon looked down upon the humans and spied Devon. He

nodded and smiled. “He’ll get it.”

“Never seems like there’s a dull moment down there. Every day

brings something new and different. Those fragile creatures are so

distant and hateful to each other. I can stare at them for hours, and all

I see is the contempt they have for each other. See there? A young

male, he’s no more than fifteen Domhan years, if that. He’s being

pushed by the bigger males, and they are making him cry.”

“And look at your Devon. Look! He’s been on their plane for a

year, a single day of our time, and he’s reaching out to help.”

Anson turned his head, his dark eyes tearing up; he watched as his

mate held the human in his arms and said, “Earlier I witnessed a

similar scene. A young male was forced to perform sexual acts with

several of his kind. They shot him afterward and left him lying behind

a building. His spirit left his body, but his temple has not yet been

found.”

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“He is now talking with the Druantia. He is scared, but he will no

longer be in pain. I just came from there.”

“Gordon, he’s to be your next charge. I feel it.”

“Aww, come now. I have my hands full with you.”

“I want to go there, Gordon.”

Gordon looked at him in surprise. “What?”

“I want to live among them. I want to help them learn love and the

freedom to love whomever they choose. It seems to me that many of

the humans down there do not accept love in all its forms. They are

ignorant and need teaching. I can teach that. I want to.”

“Oh, Anson, I don’t believe the Father will allow that request.

You’re his rare and favored creation.”

“I’m no different than anyone else. Well, not really a lot different.

Well, okay maybe a bit different, but I still have something to offer

the humans. The young ones need people they can trust, and I want to

be one of those people. Who knows, maybe I’ll meet Devon and he

can find a way to love me.”

“If you go there, you’ll forget him, us. You’ll be one of them.”

Anson nodded and looked back at Domhan. He saw Devon wiping