Page 30 of Grave Revelations (Prophecies of Angels and Demons #3)

Chapter 29

Rebecca

Azazel moved out of her reach and turned, marching up the side of a steep hill. None of his thoughts filtered into his mind, but she hadn't missed the look on his face before he'd spun away from her. He was hurt.

Rebecca pulled her gloves out of her pocket, sliding them on as she trudged after him. He was right about the temperature. It had grown colder than the night before. A thin coat of white covered everything as they marched up.

Near the top, Rebecca spied a white building emerging from the side of the hill. It was at least four stories tall but disappeared into rock and snow until only one story remained at the top.

Rebecca stopped beside Azazel, wheezing puffs of frosty air as she tried to catch her breath. “What is this place?”

“This is the Cave of the Apocalypse.”

She stared up at a detailed mosaic framing the top of the door. A man, head bowed with a golden halo circling his head, seated in front of the mouth of a cave, wrote on a tablet while another man, with a similar golden halo, stood facing away.

Beyond them was a small rusted cross at the very top of the structure.

“It’s a church. ”

Azazel nodded, stepping up to the door. He pressed both hands against it and jumped back, hissing.

“What’s wrong?”

“It burns to touch it.”

She looked down at his hands, watching as charred fingertips healed and smoothed over before her eyes. “You can’t enter the church.”

He scowled and pushed against the door again. Again, he hissed, flinching back. “It seems not.”

Rebecca touched green-painted wood with her gloved hand, waiting for the scalding burn to singe her fingers through fabric. When nothing happened, she pushed. It swung open and she glanced over her shoulder.

Azazel stood with his arms crossed, looking put out.

She stepped through the door into a dark room, only the faintest trickle of light pouring in through two small windows to the left.

“Rebecca.” His voice was laced with warning.

She moved into the room. It wasn’t her fault he couldn’t enter. She wasn’t leaving him, just exploring the old church.

As Rebecca passed the first window and stepped into the light, pain lanced through her. Shit . The bond obviously didn’t agree with her. She backed up, the pain easing, and returned to the door.

Azazel’s arms remained crossed, muscles straining under his jacket as he squeezed them tightly over his chest, a stern expression painted across his face. His grouchy temperament should have raised her hackles; instead, she felt a thrill run through her.

He moved closer, making her heart thrum in her chest. They were close enough to touch, but his hands remained stubbornly tucked under his arms. “You cannot escape me. Not unless you’re willing to suffer unimaginable pain.”

Her heart rate ticked up, and she licked her lips. “I wasn’t…”

His gaze left hers, darting over her shoulder, and some of the heat pooling in her belly cooled.

“Sariel,” he said, stepping closer. “I have a message for you. ”

“It saddens me to see you this way, brother,” a deep baritone said behind Rebecca, spinning her around.

She sagged into Azazel and stared at the creature hovering in the air above the church. He was nearly twice Azazel’s size, glowing brilliantly in the pre-dawn light, and he gripped a long, dangerous-looking sword.

“It may soon be your fate,” Azazel said, stepping past Rebecca to get between them.

Rebecca peered around Azazel as the massive angel flapped his silvery wings twice, landing before the door to the church.

“You may tell Samael I am not coming.”

“Tell him yourself.”

Sariel let out a barking laugh. “You haven’t changed so much then, have you, brother?”

Azazel widened his stance, letting his hands fall loosely at his sides. The light breeze ruffling Rebecca’s curls picked up speed.

Rebecca gaped as snow was stripped from branches and whipped into a funnel. Did the ember they shared mean all their gifts were the same? How strong might his fire magic be if it was her greatest ability?

“Come now, Gabriel. You know as well as I that visiting Samael is a one-way trip.” Sariel’s gaze ran down Azazel’s changed form and back up. “Unless we are willing to part with our sanctity.”

Azazel’s fingers twitched at his side, and Rebecca grabbed hold of his hand, lacing their fingers together.

Truth. Reviled. Unholy. Beastly. The words were there and gone in a flash, but Rebecca had heard them; her heart ached for him.

You’re not any of those things , she thought.

He squeezed her hand but continued staring at the angel blocking their path. “Sariel. You made a deal with Samael, and he expects your presence. I care not for your devoutness. I am your only warning. Do not keep him waiting.”

Azazel turned, pulling Rebecca with him. What are we doing? she asked in his mind .

He won’t let us go . They followed a stone path as it zig-zagged down the side of the mountain they’d just climbed.

“Gabriel.” The angel landed in front of him, much smaller this time. “Please. Go in my stead.”

Azazel moved around him as they continued their downward march.

“He has my other half.”

The words halted Azazel, his grip on Rebecca’s hand tightening painfully.

“Circe left the mortal plane more than twenty-five hundred years ago.” Sariel moved around them, his glow dimming as he met Azazel’s steely gaze. “And she has remained in Primoria from the day she drew her last breath.”

Azazel's fingers flinched, his grip loosening, and his gaze darted toward Rebecca for only a moment before he squared his shoulders. “It seems your troubles have been solved then. Take Samael’s offer and be with her in Primoria.”

You don’t mean that , Rebecca thought.

I wouldn’t hesitate to do the same for you.

Rebecca’s breathing hitched. He had already sacrificed himself for her once. She didn’t doubt the sincerity of his words.

Sariel reached for his free hand, but Azazel flinched back. “I know there’s no love lost between us, brother, but you must know I would never wish this upon anyone. You cannot think I would willingly go to such a fate.”

Azazel met his stare, the taller of the two now, and even his wings seemed to stretch higher. “I know your analogous umbra should have been your reason for existing in an unending eternity of pain and death. Yet you left her there for more than two thousand years to be tortured endlessly, then revived, to be defiled, tormented, and killed again. An infinity of punishment for half your soul. Any difference between us spawned from that choice.”

Sariel dimmed further, skin the color of a normal man. His gaze darted from Rebecca to Azazel and back. “Did you see her?” Sariel’s green eyes glistened, liquid pooling at the edge of lashes that matched the curly russet hair atop his head.

Rebecca’s heart constricted. She couldn’t imagine more than two thousand years without your soulmate. She’d been distressed over the few hours Azazel had been banished back to Primoria .

Azazel’s eyes widened, and he turned his full attention to her.

You were distressed? Over me?

Rebecca’s cheeks burned, and she wished that, for at least the millionth time in her long life, she didn’t have such fair skin.

“I remember what it was like to be in Circe’s mind,” Sariel said, snapping their attention back to him.

We will talk about this later. His thoughts were more of a warning than a promise, but another thrill shot through her.

Stop it, she told herself.

“I didn’t see her. But my stay was restricted to very few places. As Samael’s co-ruler, you would have no such restrictions. You could free her from her endless misery.”

Sariel glanced between them again. “Is it as bad as we’ve always been promised?”

“Worse.”

Rebecca squeezed Azazel’s hand again. I’m sorry.

His fingers tightened around hers. Don’t be.

“He can’t have the lance. It would make him too powerful,” Sariel said.

Azazel nodded. “Rebecca will keep it safe.”

Sariel’s gaze darted to Rebecca. “Her?”

“She shares my gifts,” Azazel said, standing taller. “You know what my abilities are.”

His menacing stare sent heat through her veins. No one had ever had so much confidence in her abilities before.

The side of Azazel’s mouth quirked up, a dimple appearing on his cheek.

She dug her nails into his palm. Don’t laugh at me .

I would never.

Rebecca struggled to hold her grin at bay.

“You’ll protect her?” Sariel gave Rebecca another once over.

“With my immortal soul.”

His words made that warmth in her chest pulse. She was smiling like an idiot now .

“Very well.” Sariel turned his attention to Rebecca when he said, “It’s housed in a chest inside the cave’s mouth. The Fallen has waged war more than once, seeking to end the lives of the seraphim by claiming the lance for himself. When he knows I no longer guard it, he will try again.”

Rebecca blinked. “Okay.”

“To unlock the chest, seraph blood must be spilled.” Sariel’s green eyes bored into hers. “Have you unlocked your seraphim side?”

“No.” Rebecca looked to Azazel, prepared to ask him for clarification, but words died on her lips as she took in the pain in his dark eyes. What is it? What’s wrong?

To get to Primoria, he must vanquish me.

No. You can’t. What if you can’t get back this time?

I can, Azazel reassured her. Stay in the church. Protect the lance until I return. If it’s longer than expected, use your earth magic to sustain your strength. Don’t venture into town on your own.

No, Az. Don’t go.

“Rebecca?” Sariel’s voice drew her attention. He’d said something else, but she’d missed it.

“Yes. I’ll guard it.”

He nodded. “Demons cannot enter the church, but the nasdaqu-ush can. If you see one, you must end it immediately.” He fished in his pocket, pulling out a small dagger, gleaming in the light. “I will leave this for you. It’s blessed.” Rebecca reached for it, but the angel held it out of her grasp. “I’m sorry, Rebecca. I wish you luck.”

Without another word, he spun, plunging the dagger into Azazel. A scream tore from Rebecca’s throat as the pair blinked out of existence, and the shining blade dropped to the ground.