Golden Angel: (Broken Angel #5) (5 page)

BOOK: Golden Angel: (Broken Angel #5)
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8

H
e couldn’t even
last twenty-four hours. Jeremy shook his head as he walked down the beach to the exact spot where he knew he’d find Leilani and Sammy. He should’ve walked away and headed in the opposite direction, but nope. His stubborn feet were leading him right to them.

Not that that he hadn’t tried to fight it. He’d laid on his bed for hours, listening to the roar of the ocean’s waves, unable to get a wink of sleep. All he could think about was them. It was useless fighting against all the reasons why he shouldn’t see them. So he’d caved.

There was a lightness to his steps as he turned the corner to the section of the beach where Sammy and Leilani liked to hang out. And, yep, he was right. There was Sammy, wet hair plastered against his face as he walked out of the water with a bodyboard.

Jeremy gazed out toward the ocean, expecting to see Leilani with him.

“Jeremy! You’re here!” Sammy ran to him.

“Of course I am. I told you we’d hook up soon.”

“Check out the new bodyboard Kai got for me! Wanna go for a ride with me? You can use my old one.”

Sammy pointed to another bodyboard sitting next to Leilani’s surfboard.

“Sure,” he said, scanning the beach. Her board was there. So where was she?

“Cool. We have to wait until Leilani finishes her exercises.”

“Where is she?”

Sammy turned to the ocean, placing a hand over his eyes, he squinted. “Over there. I think.”

He looked at the direction Sammy was pointing. There was nothing but blue water.

“Where?”

“See that water bottle with the little red flag poking out of it?”

He focused his angelic vision, searching past the white-crested waves until he saw a floating bottle. No Leilani.

This was not good. There wasn’t a boat in sight. And her surfboard was on the beach. What the hell was she doing? He had a funny feeling about this.

“I see it. So where is she?”

“She’s sitting on the ocean floor doing her exercises,” Sammy said, his voice sounding nonchalant as he flopped down on the sand.

Sitting on the—!

Okay, relax. Leilani wasn’t that foolish. Maybe she had on scuba gear.

“What do you mean exercises? Like scuba diving?”

“Nah, that’s sissy stuff. She’s freediving. She swims to the bottom and sits there holding her breath as along as she can before she comes back up.”

“SHE WHAT?”

The girl was insane. He was about to go in after her when he suddenly stopped. He’d done this before. He’d attempted to save her when she had wiped out. She hadn’t needed saving, and she’d ended up pissed. That was the last thing he needed. Still, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that he should be out there dragging her crazy ass back to the beach.

“Chill, Jeremy. She’s done it before. It’s been a while, though.”

Jeremy bounced on his feet. He didn’t like this at all. How could Sammy sit there and be so calm? And where the hell was Kai? He should’ve never thought that the man-child had the ability to take care of her. This was his fault.

“How long has she been under?”

Sammy reached into his pocket, pulling out what looked like a waterproof stopwatch. He glanced at it. Color drained from his face.

Shit!

“How long Sammy?”

“Three minutes.”

“Three minutes!”

“Yeah, but she did four easy a couple of years ago.”

Jeremy nervously looked out into the water.

Wait or go? Wait or go?

Sammy stood, dropping the stopwatch onto the sand as he slowly headed to the edge of the beach.

“Come on, Leilani,” Sammy muttered under his breath.

Screw it!

“Stay here!” Jeremy rushed past Sammy, diving into the water. He swam swiftly, counting the seconds with each stroke.

Twenty-two, twenty-three . . .

How long could a human hold their breath? Despite what Sammy had said, four minutes sounded way too long to him.

Fifty-one, fifty-two . . .

He propelled forward, finally reaching the bottle. He took one look at the red string attached to it and dove.

Fifty-five, fifty-six . . .

The water was surprisingly murky. Even with his angelic sight, he couldn’t see anything. He swam deeper, wondering how far it was to the bottom.

Fifty-nine, four minutes! He kicked his legs faster.

Could she last this long under water? He didn’t even know how long his human form could go on without breathing. Would he drown? He couldn’t die, but his body could. Water could fill his lungs just like any other human and would stop. He couldn’t transform into his angelic form, not now. He wouldn’t be able to get her if he did.

Four minutes thirty-seven, thirty-eight . . .

The water was endless. He should’ve reached her by now. There seemed to be no bottom in sight.

Fifty-one, fifty-two . . .

Damn it, Leilani. Where are you?

Suddenly, it was like a veil was lifted, and the water cleared. That was when he saw her.

She sat cross-legged on the ocean floor, her arms and long hair waving above her. She looked like a sleeping, dark-haired angel.

No!

He sped to her, grabbing her by the waist. His fingers felt something hard. He looked down and noticed a belt cinched around her tiny waist. It was holding her down.

He ripped the belt off her and with the speed of light swam up. Pressure built inside his chest. He had the urge to breathe. He couldn’t. He had to get her out of there.

He pushed as hard as he could until finally they broke the surface. He gasped, the air burning his empty lungs.

“Leilani . . . wake . . . up.” He could barely get out the words.

He swam back to the beach, waiting for her to open her eyes and glare. He waited for the cussing and the hitting.

There was nothing.

God, please no.
He looked at the sky as he held on to her lifeless body, wondering if Uri was near.

“Leilani!” Sammy screeched when Jeremy finally reached shore.

“I have her, Sammy.” He was not giving up on her. She was too young, too full of life. He laid her on the sand and pressed his lips onto hers.

She’s cold.

He inhaled, taking as much life-giving air as he could, and breathed deeply into her mouth.

Come back to me.

He pumped her chest, rotating between pumping and breathing into her mouth.

“Don’t leave me, Leilani,” Sammy sobbed.

Tears streamed down Jeremy’s face, mixing with the salty water as Sammy whimpered. This was not the way her life was supposed to end.

“You’re not dying, Leilani. Do you hear me? I won’t let you.”

He whispered the words he’d heard Raphael say so many times during his healing ritual. He didn’t care anymore about duty. Screw duty! He was tired of death. He was banished anyway.

Whispering ancient words of life and resurrection, he breathed into her again. Then he paused, water droplets splashed onto her pale cheeks. His mouth hovered over hers, waiting for her heart to beat once more.

And waited.

And waited.

He kept his eyes glued to Leilani’s chest, willing it to move.

It was still. No heartbeat. No life.

He’d failed. He didn’t have the power to bring her back. She was . . .

The word stuck in his throat.

With quivering lips, he kissed her forehead, her eyelids, and then her lips.

The archangels had had the trial. There was no doubt about it. And this was his punishment.

He was damned for eternity.

9

N
aomi paced
the crowded corridor in front of the Hall of Judgment. She bumped into one angel after another as they streamed into the hall.

“Love, let’s go inside,” Lash said as he stood next to Rebecca. Both of them stood against the wall next to the entrance, watching her.

They thought she was going to explode. They were probably right. She couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t go in the hall right now. It would be like she was giving up on Jeremy if she did.

“We need to wait for Jeremy,” she said. “He’ll be here any minute. There’s still time.”

“He won’t come. Uri and I tried to convince him.” Lash reached out to her.

“He’ll come.” She moved away from him. She couldn’t let him touch her. She’d fall apart if he did.

“He’s an archangel. He knows how important this is. He could never give up his rank. He’ll come.” She whirled around and bumped into a tall seraph.

“Sorry,” he said, his eyes widening when he realized who she was.

She scowled. Here was another nosy angel who should just stay home and mind his own damn business.

“Why don’t you—?”

“Naomi.” Rebecca was suddenly by her side, apologizing to the seraph.

“Why are they even here? Lash, you said only the archangels were at your trial. This is none of their business!”

The seraph scampered into the hall.

“Jeremy’s an archangel. Michael wanted the trial to be open to everyone. He wanted to show the angels that no one is given special treatment.”

“Special treatment,” she spat. “Jeremy gave them everything, and this is how they repay him? Public reprimand and punishment?”

“We’re not one to judge the archangels,” Rebecca said.

“He’s YOUR son,” she snapped. “And your brother. What is wrong with you all? And where is he? He’s supposed to be here. He has to be here. We need to go get him. We need to drag him here. Why isn’t he here? Why?”

She slapped off Lash’s hands as tears blurred her vision. Ignoring her rebukes, he drew her into his chest.

“He’s not coming,” she sobbed.

“No, he’s not.”

“It’s my fault.”

“Shh, don’t say that. He knows you care for him. And he cares for you.”

“I have to make this right. I have to do something.”

She cried harder, wishing she could go back in time and take away the terrible words she’d said. How could she have been so hateful? And then to drive him away from his family. That was even worse!

Jeremy had always been good to her. He’d risked his life for Lash. He didn’t deserve this.

A ram’s horn echoed through the corridor. Angels quickly moved against the wall.

“What’s happening?” she asked, brushing away her tears.

“It’s the archangel processional. They’re coming,” Rebecca whispered.

The corridor was quiet as the archangels made their way to the hall. Michael led the line. His brown eyes were solemn as he held his head high.

Naomi remembered the kind words he’d said to them at the binding ceremony. He was a kind and reasonable person. After all, he had brought back Rebecca and Jeremy. Surely, he would listen to her. She just had to explain it to him.

“Archangel Michael, I need to talk—stop it, Lash!”

There was a loud gasp and a flurry of murmurs as Lash jerked her out of the way.

“It’s too late,” he said.

“No, it’s not. They haven’t even gone into the hall. I just want to explain what happened.”

“That’s not the way it works. They will call on us only if Michael thinks it’s needed.”

“You’re acting as if the decision has already been made.”

Lash’s face was stoic.

No, there had to be something she could do.

She bit her lip as she watched the other archangels: Gabrielle, Raphael, Uri, and Rachel. They all had the same haunted expression on their faces.

“Rachel?” her voice squeaked.

Rachel’s lips quivered slightly as she passed. She didn’t stop.

Naomi shook her head. These were her friends; they were Jeremy’s friends. How could they even think of hurting him like this without giving him a chance to speak for himself?

She was about to follow them inside when there was another call of a ram’s horn. Rushed footsteps clicked down the corridor.

“Is that Deborah?” Naomi blinked, astonished as the newest archangel rushed down the hall.

It was her, the same Deborah who had died in her arms when she was shot by Saleos in Houston. Lash had told her that Deborah had joined the angels.

The corridor murmured as Deborah slowed down. Holding her head high, her archangel wings were fully spanned to show her rank. Her face looked panicked, as if she couldn’t believe she was there.

“Raphael said she was just promoted yesterday,” Rebecca murmured.

Her heart sank. Lash was right. It was already decided, even before the trial started. They’d replaced Jeremy. There were six archangels again, and Uri had taken over Jeremy’s work.

“Come on, let’s go inside,” Lash said when they were the only ones left in the corridor.

As they passed through the arched entrance, Naomi paused and took one last look behind her shoulders, praying to see Jeremy rushing down the corridor.

It was empty.

T
he Hall
of Judgment was bigger than Naomi remembered, large enough to hold the hundreds of angels waiting for Michael to begin.

Pausing just inside the entrance, she arched her neck, taking in the intricate designs and arches lining the vaulted ceilings. She hadn’t noticed them there before.

When she’d first seen the hall, waiting for Lash to join her, she had thought the place was beautiful and romantic in candlelight. The chamber was even more glorious with sunlight filtering through open dome-shaped windows casting a golden light. Despite its beauty, all she could think about was how this was the place her family would lose Jeremy.

“Everything will be okay, love,” Lash whispered.

“Of course it will,” Rebecca said. “We’re in this together. We’re family.”

We’re family.

And I fight for family.

Ignoring the stares and hushed whispers, she took hold of Lash’s and Rebecca’s hands and marched to the tiered platform where Michael and the other archangels waited.

Any other time, she would’ve been intimidated by the scene in front of her. The ornate throne looked like a throne of kings. Michael’s hand rested on the chair’s arm possessively, looking regal. He was made for that throne.

Gabrielle stood to his right, wearing a flowing white gown that matched the color of her wings. She looked glorious with white against white. The only color was the emerald choker glittering against her slender neck.

Gabrielle was so still. It was as if she was afraid to move or she would break. Only the delicate blue-green vein throbbing against her temple gave away her true feelings. This was hard for her, hard to sit in judgment of one of the few angels she truly respected.

Raphael stood on Michael’s left. There was no mistaking the torment on his face. He held his hands in front of him, rubbing the same spot over and over.

The remaining archangels stood on the steps below them. They were nervous too. That made Naomi feel a little better. Maybe Lash was wrong. If they all made a case for Jeremy, surely Michael would listen.

Deborah swayed back and forth, obviously nervous. Their eyes locked briefly. Recognition lit Deborah’s face, and she gave Naomi a slight smile.

Naomi wished she had time to talk with her. Why, oh, why hadn’t she thought of doing that before? She knew Uri and Rachel were on their side. They would say something in support of Jeremy.

If they could pull themselves together.

Uri was a statue—a slightly green statue. Rachel looked just as bad. Her fingers were pressed into her palms, making the whites of her knuckles stand out. And her lashes hadn’t stopped blinking for longer than a few seconds.

Michael lifted his hand, and a hush swept through the hall. After a moment, he slowly placed his hand back on the chair’s arm and turned to Raphael, giving him a nod.

Raphael looked at Michael, his eyes pleading before he stepped off of the platform.

“Raphael, what—?”

“Naomi.” Raphael shook his head, silencing her as he went to Rebecca’s side.

Naomi was confused. Wasn’t Raphael going to have his say?

“Brothers and sisters, we gather on this morn to bring judgment on Jeremiel, Archangel of Death, for his wrongdoing. It has been many centuries since such a serious transgression has been made. As is our custom, the archangels call forth our brother to make his arguments so that we may grant leniency on our judgment. It is with heavy heart I call on Jeremiel. Jeremiel, come forth!”

A ram’s horn echoed through the hall. Murmurs filled the chamber as the angels turned to the entrance.

“Jeremiel!” Michael called louder.

The ram’s horn sounded again.

Naomi’s heart pounded in her chest with each vibration of the horn as it echoed in the vast chamber.

“How many times is Michael going to call for him?” she whispered to Lash.

“One more.”

“Jeremiel!” Michael cried out one last time.

The room tensed. Hushed whispers filled the hall like white noise.

He isn’t coming.

She gazed at her family and friends. Hope was lost. She could see it on their faces. Lash, looking pale, held on to her hand tighter. Uri grew even greener, and Rachel bit down hard on her bottom lip as the sound of the ram’s horn faded.

“The final call has been made. Jeremiel, Archangel of Death, has been accused of heavenly disobedience and for abandoning his brothers and sisters in their time of need. He serves himself and no other, leaving all that care for him behind. What say you of these charges, Gabrielle?”

All eyes turned to Gabrielle. Her dark lashes slowly lowered, but not before Naomi caught the torment within them. When they finally opened, they were blank.

“Yea,” she said.

“What say you, Deborah?”

Deborah’s eyes flicked to hers apologetically before she answered.

“Yea.”

The simple word stabbed Naomi. Her knees buckled when Uri hoarsely said yea, and Lash had to hold her up. And then when it was Rachel’s turn, she gazed into her friend’s teary eyes.

“What say you, Rachel?”

“I . . . I think . . .” Rachel’s voice quivered softly.

“What. Say. You. Archangel Rachel,” Michael’s voice boomed.

A tear rolled down her cheek as she whispered the word Naomi had thought would never come from her dear friend’s lips.

“Yea.”

“So say you all. Jeremiel is hereby banished and shall be stripped of his title, rank, and all angelic gifts.”

This can’t be happening. It can’t.
Naomi shook her head in a daze. Michael’s voice barely registered as he went on about angelic duty.

Why wasn’t anyone doing anything?

“Jeremiel chose an Earthly life,” Michael continued. “That is what he shall receive. He is now one of the fallen. All are forbidden contact with him.”

Lash turned to her, his eyes wide. They wouldn’t ever see him again. She couldn’t let this happen. She wouldn’t.

“Wait! You can’t do this!”

There was a chorus of gasps as she went up the platform, moving the statuesque Uri out her way to get to Michael.

“It’s my fault. Please, I beg of you. Reconsider. Give Jeremy a chance.”

“My child, Jeremiel has been given a chance,” Michael said.

“It’s my fault. I made him leave. Punish me. Not him.”

“He chose to leave. We are all given free will here.”

“But to take away his family? They . . . we . . .”

She gazed down where her family stood.

“We’re his family. We love him. You punish us all when you keep us away from him.”

“We live in treacherous times. Saleos has built his army on false hopes and false dreams. Jeremiel’s love for his family will put us all in danger. Duty must come first.”

“How can love be dangerous?” Raphael’s voice boomed. The hall went up in a roar at his rebuke.

Frowning, Michael raised his hand, silencing the room before he spoke.

“Raphael, you know as well as I that battle is looming. Saleos will use all means necessary to win, including those we care about the most.”

Michael’s glance in their direction was subtle but clear. They were a liability.

“But to take away his powers,” Naomi argued, “it will crush him. How can he protect himself without them?”

“It must be done. It is for our safety,” Michael said.

“Then let me do it. He’s my son,” Raphael said.

Michael shook his head. “It has been decided. Gabrielle has volunteered to execute the punishment.”

Naomi looked around in disbelief. It was over.

Raphael’s face was stoic as he held on to Rebecca as she cried into his chest. Rachel made her way to Uri and held his hand. And Lash . . . his heart was breaking.

She’d done that to him—to all of them. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m sorry, Lash.” She ran down the steps, tears blinding her vision as she rushed out of the hall.

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