I walk up to the door. My hand shakes as I raise it. Closing my eyes, I settle my thoughts. She has to see me. This has to work.
I knock once.
Twice.
Three…
“Yes?” An older woman answers the door, her jaw stiff. “May I help you?”
Everything about her is stern, from the wrinkles that cross her brow, to the way her arms are folded over her chest. Nessa said her aunt was tough, but nothing prepared me for the person standing before me.
“Um,” I say, the words suddenly gone. I swallow hard, willing my mouth to work. “Is Nessa here?” I ask.
“Who’s asking?” The woman’s mouth forms a straight line.
Again I swallow, the apprehension bitter on my tongue.
“I’m Aydan. A friend from school. I just need to talk to her—”
The woman bristles. “I thought it might be you. She doesn’t want to see you,” she says before closing the door.
I shove my foot between the door and the jam. “Please,” I say. “I really need to speak with her.”
“I think you’ve done more than enough.”
What did Nessa tell her?
“But ma’am—”
“No. Leave. Leave now.” Nessa’s aunt stands taller, daring me to proceed. In this moment, she is more formidable than any of the demons from Infernum. I’m willing to bet even Azza would stumble in the presence of this woman.
I glance over the woman’s shoulder. Nessa stands behind her aunt, cloaked in shadow. She closes her eyes and turns.
“Okay. But tell her I need to speak with her. It’s very important. She’ll understand.” I move my foot and the door slams in my face.
My eyes begin to well. My breathing grows erratic.
This isn’t how I wanted this to go.
Not even close.
Walking back to my bike, I consider my options. I don’t know what to do now, where to go, how to get Nessa to talk with me.
It’s better this way.
Caim’s voice wafts through me.
She’ll destroy you if you persist.
I refuse to accept his words.
Shaking my head, I pull down on the throttle. The bike roars to life beneath me.
“Wait.”
Her voice is nearly lost in the roar of the engine.
“Aydan!” Nessa runs down the stairs of the old porch.
I cut the engine and she slows, stopping just out of my reach.
“About last night,” I start.
“It’s my fault, Aydan. All my fault. I shouldn’t have forced myself on you.”
“You?” My mind swims as she apologizes for things that never happened.
There is no trace of the truth in her words, no indication that she remembers what actually occurred.
She starts to cry, tears streaming down her face. “I’m sorry I don’t remember who I am anymore. Sorry, that I can’t be who you remember me to be.”
I take her in my arms. “Shh,” I whisper into her hair. “You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s me.”
Always me.
I take a sharp breath and she tightens her hold on me. My senses fill with her scent, sending a chill down my spine.
“I just wish—”
“Shh,” I say, cutting off her words. She will not beat herself up because of me and what I’ve done. I won’t let her.
I run my thumb across her cheek, catching the last tears. “We’ll figure this out. I know we will.” The words leave my lips before I can catch them.
She leans in, her lips erasing my shame.
I know I should pull away, know that I can’t trust myself with her.
Her mouth opens and I taste her soul again.
She’ll be your end, Aydan.
I push against her, ending the kiss. “What are you doing to me?” I ask, more to myself than to her.
The Beast roars, urging me to strike.
She kisses me again, offering herself, her soul, for the taking.
Take me now
. Her voice echoes through my body. The Beast growls, ready to obey her command.
I shove myself back, stumbling.
A grin forms in her eyes, making its way to her lips. “I thought you wanted me to be more like this,” she purrs as she takes a step towards me. Her eyes grow dark as a heady smoke scent fills the air.
“Stop,” I manage to force out before she again embraces me.
My body shakes as she leans in, her body flush against mine. I can’t control the urges cresting through me and my knees start to wobble.
“Kiss me,” she whispers in my ear. “The way you used to. The way you want to now.”
I swallow hard, barely able to keep myself from her.
Her mouth traces my earlobe and my resolve crumbles.
I cover her mouth in a ravenous kiss. Her soul dances on my tongue, teasing me. I should resist her, I know I should.
But in truth, I don’t know if I can. Or if I even want to anymore.
My eyes roll back and I allow her to flow into me, giving in to the craving that will not leave.
The world spins under my feet as too many things happen at once.
Nessa pulls away.
Screams.
I open my eyes and see the fresh horror etched in her expression.
My mind swims. I am out of control
Because of her.
“You!” I yell at her. “You’re doing this somehow.”
She laughs, her voice morphing and changing into Azza’s. “What? Don’t like what I’ve done with Nesy?”
I watch as her face changes from the golden skin and sharp angles of Nessa to Azza’s demonic skeletal frame and back.
Laughter swirls around me as the ground is engulfed in smoke.
I take a step back.
And another.
“What are you doing to her?” I scream at the apparition in front of me.
“What makes you think it was ever
her
?” Azza asks.
“Leave her alone!”
“You’ve tried that one before, Aydan. How’d it work out for you then?” Azza’s voice swirls around me.
His words tease up a rage from the depths of me. A deep sound releases from somewhere deep within, a feral growl that sounds more like an animal than anything human.
I lunge forward, my fingers fastening tightly around Azza’s neck.
But not Azza…
Nessa.
She screams again and I release my hands.
“What are you doing to me?” I yell.
Nessa’s image thins until it is nothing but smoke. I stare, stunned. Was this nothing but an apparition, a hoax?
“You can’t have her Azza!” I yell to the world, anger seething through the words. “She’s not yours.”
“It’s time for you to leave.” Nessa’s aunt stands on the porch, her arms tightly crossed over her chest. “The police are on their way.”
I mount the bike and leave, spinning up the highway towards the coast. Echoes of Nessa’s scream, Nesy’s seduction, and Azza’s voice mix with Caim’s warnings. The tempest whirls and spins until all I see, all I hear, is a familiar urging too difficult to ignore now.
Have you come for me at last Azza?
—
I love you Nesy.
Will you now seek your vengeance?
—
I commit myself only to you.
Am I to be nothing more than your slave after all?
—
Until the end of forever.
Chapter 26 – Prophesy
Zane
Time holds no meaning as I speed to an unknown destination. My head fills with nothing but Nesy and my feelings for her. She saw me, felt me. She wanted me to stay with her. My heart pounds as I remember the last moments in detail. The feel of her heart beating against mine, the touch of her fingers on my skin, the smell of her hair—vanilla and smoke. I nearly broke my vows, my oath.
Maybe I should have.
The memory fades, leaving only the sad truth. There is no life possible with Nesy. It’s a dream, a myth.
One I can’t allow, no matter what I feel.
The vortex spins faster and my legs falter. Traveling shouldn’t take this long, regardless of where I’m going. I center my thoughts, determined to control the cyclone around me.
Nothing. I have no way of sensing where I am or where I’m going. A chill passes over my skin as my wings ruffle. Panic begins to crawl up my spine.
“You have not honored your commitments, Young Mediator.”
I spin, expecting to see the familiar smoke. There is nothing but the thoughts still circling around me.
“Why is it that angels never honor their oath and yet punish others who do the same?”
The sound comes from everywhere. Again I turn. And again there’s nothing.
Everything spins and swirls as images of my life stream around me, a movie filled with only Nesy. I close my eyes to the onslaught, shame mixing with a need so deep it leaves me breathless. My palms sweat, my back twitches. I stretch my neck, feeling a primal heat rush up my spine, urging me forward. But I have nowhere to go. The vortex has no openings, no destination. Just spinning that has no end.
“Stop!” I yell to the rushing darkness.
Laughter fills my ears as the portal complies, screeching to a halt. An opening forms, dumping me into a familiar corridor. Emerald tapestries line the walls, along with depictions of angels and humans.
Gabriel’s chamber. My chamber.
I’m in trouble.
I stand, my head still spinning. My knees wobble beneath me as I grab a hold of the stone wall.
“That did not look fun.” Gabriel. The master of understatement.
I turn, nearly losing my balance. Gabriel stands behind me, his emerald robes sweeping the floor.
“I see you've come home. I thought I might be seeing you...soon.”
“You did?” I ask.
Gabriel smiles. “Yes. You do have something to say to me, do you not?”
I lower my head. Was I ready to talk about my feelings with my master? Would he even listen?
Inhaling an uncomfortable breath, I look up, catching Gabriel’s eye.
“Ah yes. Not ready yet, I see. That is fine. You will say what you are ready to say.” Gabriel nods and turns, walking out of the central chamber and toward his study. “Besides, I need to speak with you.”
Dread ripples through my shoulders and wings.
I follow Gabriel into his study. A large book lays open across his desk. The parchment pages look older than any of the sacred texts in Harahel’s archives. Gold filament lines the edges. Engraved leather forms a binding.
I stare at the pages, trying to make out the ancient script. But it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen or read. Drawings line the pages, lines that loop together like the markings on Azzaziel’s neck. On Aydan’s.
I furrow my brow, silently mouthing the markings. But I can’t make out any of the symbols.
“Ask,” Gabriel says. As usual, it isn’t a request.
I want to ask about the markings, their similarity to Azza’s. Ask about the strange symbols and letters. Ask what any of it means. Ask why I’ve been brought home.
I want to ask a lot of things.
But every word sticks in my mouth, dying without a sound.
I clear my throat, feeling the unspoken questions burn against my tongue. “Um…the text. What language is it in? I can’t read it.”
“I wouldn’t imagine that you could. It’s a dead language to us now. Ever since the second war.”
I still don’t understand.
“This is the book of prophesies. The one that motivated much of Azzaziel’s actions. Since his fall, we haven’t opened it. Haven’t used the language or read the passages.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The book foretold the first war with the Jinn. And the truce. It also spoke of the betrayal and second war.”
My mind spins on too many questions. I’ve never heard of the ancient text or the prophesies.
“When was it written?” I ask, unable to contain my curiosity. “Why read it now?”
Gabriel turns away, his shoulders slumping over slightly. “The book has existed since the beginning of time. Before the Council or the Angelic Orders. Before the need for such things.”
“Before you,” I whisper.
“Long before, yes.” Gabriel turns back toward me, his expression softening. “The book chronicles the birth of evil, the strained peace that was forged at far too heavy a cost. And it foretold the second coming of evil.”
“Azzaziel.”
“Yes. It spoke of a fallen angel and the cost such a fall would endow.”
“Why was the book abandoned?”
“We all knew an UnHoly would bring about a new war. We went to great lengths to ensure that it never happened. And in our arrogance, we created the very war we sought to avoid. After that, the Council thought it best we never read from the future again.”
“But—”
“Zanethios, sometimes knowing of a possible future guarantees its creation. Maybe it is best to let go and let the future unfold as it wills.”
Silence grows between us as his words seep into my mind, taking root.
“Master?”
“Yes?”
“Why pull the book out now? Is there a prophesy related to Nesy?”
Gabriel shakes his head, long amber waves of hair bouncing along his shoulders. “Perhaps. But that is not the subject of my search. My interest is in our history.”
“So the book has more than prophesies?”
“Oh yes. It chronicles our existence. All of it. As well as the existence of every sentient being—the angels, the UnHoly, the Jinn, the Seers, humanity. Everything. It tells of your existence. Nesayiel’s. Even Aydan’s.”
My mind swims with the possibilities. One day with that text and I could learn everything about Nesy, including a way out of the mess I’ve created.
“But,” Gabriel says, his eyes penetrating my thoughts. “Knowledge like this has its own seduction. A taste of the stories on these pages and you will want more. Too much and you won’t be able to resist. You will read the prophesies and you will create the futures that scare you the most. It is always the way with books such as these—books with the power of true knowledge.” Gabriel straightens, his shoulders stiff. “We are not ready for that kind of power. No being is.”
“But you’re reading it?”
“Yes. And I am trained to resist the seduction.”
“What are you looking for?”
Gabriel chews on my question, a million expressions floating across his face.
Concern.
Pride.