Chapter 34: Chapter Thirty-Four

Genesis

My tongue felt like sandpaper in the roof of my mouth. When I tried to lick my lips, it was like someone had dehydrated me then handed me peanut butter.

I tried moving my lips. They were heavy, pressed together.

“You won’t speak.”

I blinked my eyes open. Having already thought they were open, I was surprised when I saw a blinding light appear in front of me then fade into the darkness surrounding my body.

“I allow you to speak after you’ve earned it.” It was the same man or angel as before.

His feathers were now fully visible; pieces of every color of the rainbow shimmered from the large wings, though his seemed to favor purples and blues.

It seemed like that should be significant, the colors, but I couldn’t talk, so instead I stared, knowing I probably wouldn’t ever see anything like it in my entire life.

I wanted to be afraid.

And I was.

But I was also fascinated by the sheer beauty of the archangel in front of me. Long white hair, which should have looked stupid and old, created an ethereal effect around his sculpted face.

His eyes were a bluish-white, more aqua than anything, and his mere presence filled up the entire room.

“Are you afraid?” He tilted his head to the side, his eyes studying me for a reaction.

I didn’t nod.

I simply stared back.

“I’ll take that as a no.” His full lips curled into a smile. “I am Sariel. I’ve been watching you.”

Creepy statement. I shivered. The last thing I wanted was a being like him watching me.

“It intrigues me…” His smile grew as the light faded around his body, making him look more human than immortal. “How they fight over something so insignificant.”

I flinched.

“I don’t mean you, little human.” He moved around the room.

Lights followed each footstep until I realized I was sitting in a large open room— a lot like a typical living room with couches and tables— facing the Puget Sound.

It would be normal…

If an archangel wasn’t walking around in front of me, glowing all over the place.

“The situation—it’s insignificant. Tell me, why should my brothers—why should I bother myself with the prophecy? It does not directly affect me.”

He waved at my mouth.

My lips pulled apart. I inhaled then spoke. “It may not affect you, but it affects others. People are dying—what if I’m the answer?”

He turned his back to me. “Do you think that we would put the balance of immortal lives in the hands of a mere human?”

“Yes,” I whispered, “because it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“You speak to me as if you have the right to breathe in my presence without falling to your feet in terror.”

“And you speak to me like you deserve to be worshipped, when you’ve done nothing but kidnap me and mock me.”

His body stilled.

I blamed Ethan’s blood. I’d spoken out of turn. And I was going to pay for it.

“Keep that heartbeat under control. Wouldn’t want that vampire blood to boil you from the inside out… quite painful I’ve heard, the process of a human turning immortal.”

“What?” My heart raced. “But I’m human.”

“Yes.” He turned back to face me. “For now you are human. Until the choice will be made by the immortals. You will stay that way, in my care.”

“Why?” I gulped. “Why take me?”

His shoulders hunched; it was the only chink I’d seen in his armor the entire time we’d been talking.

“Because once, a very long time ago, one of my sons made a great lapse in judgment, and the immortals have been paying for it ever since.”

Sariel folded his hands in front of his large body, his wings going once again transparent. “Because of his sins, a darkness— a sickness— descended upon both races.

“I mean to rectify that in the only way I know how.”

I was afraid to ask.

“Well?” he smirked. “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

“No.”

“Lie.” His eyes flashed white. “Blood will be spilled. They will come for you.”

“And if they don’t?” I whispered.

“Blood will spill either way.”

Was it my imagination, or did his eyes hold a hint of sadness?

“Balance always needs to be restored, and you, Genesis, will be tested. I wonder, are you strong enough to do what needs to be done?”

I gulped. “What needs to be done?”

“Telling you defeats the purpose, now, doesn’t it?”

“So I’m your prisoner… until blood is spilled?”

“Think of it as a vacation.” He shrugged. “I’ve provided for all of your needs.” He pointed to an open kitchen I hadn’t noticed before.

“You won’t starve, you won’t thirst—unless it’s blood your body craves—and you have a view. What more could you want?”

“Is that a trick question?”

His grin blinded me. “I enjoy humans… so small.”

My eyebrows knit together in frustration. “Thanks.”

“…and interesting.”

“You said you had sons.” I tried changing the subject.

His face shadowed. “I have… sons, yes.”

The conversation must have been over because he quickly walked out of the room.

I thought he’d left me alone…

Until someone or something walked in. I wasn’t sure how I knew since I hadn’t actually seen anything, but I felt something.

And then I heard chains.

I had a brief vision of watching Christmas Carol and shivered, sitting on the nearby couch and pulling my knees to my chest. “Hello?”

“Hello.” The voice was smooth, like a caress against my face.

The couch sunk next to me.

A hand reached out of the air. I followed the fingertips up an arm; the body slowly came into focus.

It was a man. Not an angel.

A Dark One— or something else entirely.

He had chains around his feet, though clearly he’d still been able to walk, and his hands were chained together as well.

“I’m Aziel.” He leaned back against the couch. “I hope you’re stronger than the last human who visited.”

“The last human?” I repeated.

“She looked like you.” His eyes went cloudy as he stared out through the windows, his jaw set in a firm line. “The same blood flows through your veins.”

“She died?” My mouth was like cotton. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.

“She was murdered.” His teeth snapped. “I would have made her my queen.”

I tried to scoot away, but he put his chained hands onto my legs, holding me in place.

“She was tested,” he sighed in a cheerful voice, “and found lacking.”

“Why was she tested?”

“Because she wanted too much—because it was within our capacity to give it to her—but we were too early. The prophecy never said when balance would be restored. And we are not perfect.”

We?

“We are still flawed.” His voice was hollow. “And we were wrong. I was blinded by her face… then again, I’ve always had a fascination with pretty things.” He turned his head to me.

“You remind me of her.”

I flinched, trying to move my body to the side. His hands grew heavier and heavier on my lap.

“And you will probably die just like her.”