Page 42 of Grave Revelations (Prophecies of Angels and Demons #3)
Chapter 41
Rebecca
Rebecca laid the brush on her vanity counter, stilling her shaking fingers. Never in over one hundred years had she expected someone brushing her hair to feel like that. The way Azazel was looking at her didn’t help. Damn him for turning her brain into mush. She had questions, and he was using desire to distract her.
She cleared her throat. “You were telling me about your deal for Adalaide’s sons.”
Was I? he asked in her mind. Somehow, the deep baritone of his voice affected her more when it rolled through her thoughts. I thought we were discussing the constellation drawn across your fair skin .
Why did it sound so sexy? They were talking about birthmarks.
Jophiel cleared her throat, reminding them she was still in the room.
“So. Your deal?” Rebecca said.
“Get your coat.”
Rebecca’s brows dipped, and she turned, facing him. “You promised.”
“I will answer your questions on the way.”
She strode for her closet and pulled out the long white puffer jacket Simon had bought her in Boston. It reminded her of that day in the park when he’d brought her to a cemetery, giving her a history lesson on the Gavras family. Their line had split, scattering their seraph blood. They’d been reunited when Nicholas Gravas met Linda of the Kavraz line.
“Not that one.”
Rebecca looked up. The dark expression painted across Azazel’s face left her in no doubt that he was tuning in to her thoughts. For once, she agreed with him. The memory of his time with Allie wasn’t as painful as she’d expected it to be, but it was an unwelcome distraction all the same. She reached for a red trench stuffed in the back.
Where are we going? she asked.
I stored the lance in your father’s laboratory. With the wards erected around the room, it was the safest place.
In her father’s lair, all three of them crowded around an ancient wooden box held together by a rusted old lock.
“Can’t we just break the lock?” Rebecca asked. “Why is this so hard to open?”
“It has been spelled to open only with seraph blood,” Jophiel said, lifting her wrist.
“Dina, no.” Azazel held up a hand to stop her.
“Why?”
“Rebecca must unlock her seraph side to survive what’s coming,” he said. “She will open it.”
Jophiel gave him a dubious look but lowered her wrist. “I hope you know what you’re doing, brother.”
Azazel turned to face Rebecca and held his hands out to her. “Do you remember how you shared power with the witches?” She nodded, staring down at his upturned palms. “Sharing with me will flood your system and unlock your ability.”
Rebecca yanked her hands back, cradling them to her chest. “I can’t. I’ll die.”
“You will not die. The witches weren’t sharing magic. They were siphoning it from you,” Azazel said, and Rebecca gasped, glancing between him and Jophiel. “ They didn’t know what they were doing. A witch with limited ability can boost their weaker counterparts, but the magic they share is minuscule by comparison with yours. Your human side couldn’t survive the sheer volume they pulled. Had you unlocked your seraph side, a trickle of your power would have been enough for the entire coven.”
Rebecca bit her lip. “But my power increased when I shared with them. I felt it. And my eyes changed.”
“You were tapping into your seraph side, but you hadn’t awoken it. Your body wasn’t prepared to funnel that much magic. You would have burned yourself out.”
“If Simon hadn’t saved me…”
Azazel’s eyes met hers. “He didn’t save you. He unwound your father’s curse. Your reincarnation spell was broken.”
“But he gave me healing energy,” Rebecca said. “I felt it. He nearly died.”
“Healers can unbind spells if they use enough of their magic.”
Rebecca’s vision blurred. If that was true, everything that had happened could have been prevented—everyone could have been saved—if only she had learned how to awaken her gifts sooner.
“Power sharing doesn’t work between our kind and humans,” Jophiel said, resting a hand gently on Rebecca’s shoulder. “They could never have truly helped you.”
“So, if we power share, it will awaken that side,” Rebecca continued. “Will it change me? Will I be immortal? Like you?”
“Nephilim are not immortal, Light,” Azazel answered. “They are powerful, but the human side exists, even if the seraph side is dominant.”
“My father’s curse… it was keeping me alive.” Her hands trembled, and she balled them into fists to still them. “I’ll still die at twenty-five. Now, there’s no way for me to come back. When I die, it will be forever.”
It was the end of the world; perhaps it didn’t matter. At least in seraph form, she would be strong enough to fight to the bitter end.
Her brows dipped. “What else do I need to know before I do this?”
Azazel’s gaze darted past her to Jophiel .
Jophiel moved beside her. “When you awaken your seraph side, you accept that you are bound by our laws. If you break them, your fate will be the same as any seraph’s.
“If you harm a demon who isn’t inhabiting a human or who hasn’t struck the first blow against you, you will be condemned to Primoria. If you speak the Lord’s name blasphemously, you will fall from favor. If you harm your fellow seraph, you will be shunned by one and all. If you intentionally harm a human, you will be banished from Alaxia for eternity.”
Rebecca’s gaze darted to Azazel. “But… when the war ends, only one side will win. What happens to everyone on the other side?”
He held his hands out again. “We cross that bridge when we come to it.”
She didn’t want to cross that bridge later. She wanted an answer now. They hadn’t even given them a chance, and it seemed that the whole universe was against the idea.
“Take my hands, Light.”
She stared down at his outstretched hand. It felt wrong, like another door closing.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out, glancing at Azazel’s outstretched hands before looking at the screen. Simon. She clicked open the text.
There are three people in the house. They aren’t human. They’re looking for you.