Page 5 of Grave Revelations (Prophecies of Angels and Demons #3)

Chapter 4

Rebecca

Rebecca wrenched her hand from Azazel’s, shoving with all her might.

He released her, and she staggered back.

“What game are you playing? You don’t have me. I’m not Allie. I won’t beg for your attention in the absence of a father. Whatever silly feelings she had aren’t mine. You took advantage of a dying girl, and now you’re claiming I’m one of you? Or something like you were? I’m a witch.”

Azazel crossed his arms over his chest. “And what do you think a witch is?”

She swallowed. “Are you saying all witches are Nephilim?”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. You are the last of your kind.”

Rebecca stomped her foot. “For once in your life, give me a straight answer. Why did you come for me? What do you want from me?”

“Rebecca, you’re my analogous umbra. My other half.”

The room spun, the pressure that had been building since she awoke exploding in sharp spikes across her temple, making her see stars. In her mind, the words in that old leather journal rolled across the page.

She leaned back, pressing her hands into the wall behind her. “No,” she breathed. “You’re lying. ”

Azazel moved, leaning into the wall beside her and placing a cool finger under her chin. “I tried to give you a chance at life. I would have waited an eternity to see you after your human life ended, but my brother has kept you from me for nearly two centuries. Gabriel would let you continue to suffer on this plane. To give you a chance to be human. I’m not so selfless.”

She shook her head, tears streaking down her face. “You’re lying. My other half is Simon.” She wiped her eyes, glaring up at him. “You probably let him die. He was with you in Primoria, and you didn’t help him there, either.”

“I could never lie to you, just as you could never lie to me. Your seraph blood gives you the ability to sense lies. They rest on your tongue, tasting foul. You’ve felt it. I’ve seen you sense them many times.”

Her throat dried. It was true. It was all true. Somehow, when someone lied to her, she knew. She thought back to the day Simon had told her he didn’t already know she was dying. How she’d know with absolute certainty he was lying. And when Sophia had told her she was her coven’s Pythia, she’d known it was true.

Didn’t all humans sense those things?

She looked up, meeting swirling black eyes. “Then answer my question. Did you let him die?”

“I didn’t find him when I went to find the nasdaqu-ush.”

“That's not—”

“But if I had, I would not have saved him,” he finished, cutting her off.

“You’re a monster!”

“I may be, but I’m your monster. And unlike Gabriel, I would not have let that liar get between us again.”

Rebecca pushed off the wall, stalking away from him. She strode to the stairs leading off the patio and away from the demon at her back. She set her first foot on the top step, prepared for blinding pain to slam into her.

When nothing happened, she took another step. Still nothing. She glared back.

“You trapped me here!”

Without waiting for an answer, she stomped down the stairs, determined to put distance between them. On the fourth step, something uncomfortable burned in her chest. By the sixth, an invisible dagger had wedged itself through her sternum, and her breaths were coming in quick gasps.

Flapping wings sounded overhead, and Azazel was there, blocking her path. “We will not be parted again.”

Rebecca’s breathing steadied, and she pressed her hands into his chest, shoving.

He grabbed her wrists, trapping them against his body, and gave her a cruel smile.

She glared up at him. “You can’t keep me like a prisoner.”

“I can do anything I like.”

She huffed, raking her nails over his bare chest. Tiny white lines trailed over the swirling marks running over his skin and down his abdomen.

His dark chuckle vibrated along her palms as she screamed her frustration, trying desperately to free herself from his hold.

Rebecca’s eyes narrowed, and she swung her leg, kicking him in the shin as hard as she could. Pain radiated through her foot, and he released her as she fell to the ground, grabbing her injured appendage.

Azazel dropped to his knees, holding out a hand. “Let me see it.”

“Don’t touch me.”

“Don’t be stubborn, Rebecca. Let me see.”

“I don’t want you to touch me. Ever.” Rebecca twisted her foot experimentally as the pain receded. It would be sore for a few days, but she would be fine.

She met his gaze, working damn hard to avoid the eyeful he was giving her as he squatted in front of her. Her stomach squirmed, even with the lingering ache in her foot. What was wrong with her?

“You could heal yourself.”

“What do you mean?” she choked out.

“You and the other witches were playing with your gifts, were you not?”

She rolled her eyes. “What did I say about straight answers?”

Azazel stood, holding his hand out to her. “Come, the temperature is dropping. Let me get you somewhere warm where we can continue this conversation.”

She released her hold on her foot and stood, placing weight on it experimentally .

Azazel bent, scooping her into his arms.

“Hey! Put me down!” she shrieked, slinging curses at him as he lifted from the ground, his inky, insubstantial wings beating overhead.

She tilted her head back, staring at them. “How do they hold us up when they aren’t solid?”

“How does a demon levitate?”

She scowled, dropping her gaze, and risked a glance over her shoulder. Her stomach flipped as she took in the tiny green dots far below, too small to make out, and squeezed her eyes shut, curving against his chest.

A rumbling sound, suspiciously like a purr, rolled across her back.

The biting chill of rapidly cooling air made her thighs tingle. She could get no warmth from the body partially shielding her from the wind’s chill, and soon, her teeth were chattering.

“Hold tight, Light. We’re close.”

Rebecca’s eyes snapped open as they landed hard. She glanced around at an unfamiliar patch of mountain surrounded on three sides by a dense copse of pine trees and on the fourth by sparkling cerulean.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Slight complication. We’re going to have to stay here for the night.”

She stared at him as he spun in a circle, surveying the landscape. Apart from the dark swirls curling over his skin and the massive wispy wings reaching into the tree branches, he seemed like the Gabriel Allie had spent time with, if less reserved and a lot more naked.

Perhaps he wasn’t as demon-like as she’d first thought.

He sent his hand down, and roots burst from the ground, forming a solid cane.

“It’s like my earth magic,” Rebecca remarked.

“I did say witches were born of seraph blood.”

“No, you didn’t. You asked me where I thought witches came from.”

Azazel arched one dark brow. “You have a brain, Rebecca. I’ve seen you use it many times in your long life.”

She gasped. “You’ve been watching me even before Allie’s life? ”

“Come, let's get out of the cold.” He handed her the cane he’d made, and she took it, leaning against it to lighten some of the weight from her sore foot.

Before long, he’d outpaced her by a good distance, and she stopped, catching her breath. When he kept walking, she froze, darting her gaze from side to side. Could she escape him now? She took one step sideways, tucking herself behind a wide tree, and held her breath.

She heard no sounds of feet crunching over broken branches, but perhaps he was too far away.

“Will you fight me forever?”

She jumped, spinning to find him standing behind her. She lifted her chin, squaring her shoulders. “Where are you taking me?”

“Here.” Azazel’s mouth quirked up on one side, a sharp dimple appearing on his cheek.

He turned away from her, wispy feathers tickling her nose as they swayed behind him. He lifted his arms, and dirt rose from the ground, following the pattern he wove. It split, forming three solid walls around them.

Trees stretched, reaching for one another until they formed a thatched ceiling overhead. He beckoned to vines creeping along the forest floor, and they swam toward him, weaving together until they formed a single rectangular object in the center of the makeshift home.

He swung his arms once more, and the branches pulled more tightly together, plunging the room into darkness.

“I can’t see,” Rebecca said.

Something featherlight brushed her cheek, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when breath ruffled her hair and a voice said, “I can.”