Page 63 of Grave Revelations (Prophecies of Angels and Demons #3)
Chapter 62
Azazel
Azazel tugged Rebecca’s arm, pulling her into his embrace. She was drained, and it showed in the shadows under her eyes. “Come, you need rest, Light.”She let him lead her, even as her tired mind argued that she should do something. Anything other than rest.
You have awoken your seraph side, and that gives you many of our gifts, but your mortal form cannot sustain it forever. Rest.
“I don’t feel like a superhero,” she grumbled.
He snorted. “A superhero?”
“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be? Powerful. Invincible.”
Azazel scooped her into his arms, carrying her up the stairs to her room. Powerful, you most certainly are. But invincible, no. And if I lose you, you’ll be out of my reach for eternity. Give me this small piece of forever with you.
His soul— her soul—stretched, filling the cavernous space inside him. Rebecca blinked as she leaned back, looking up, and he burned that look of contentment into his mind. He would carry it with him into the darkness. Into the recesses of Hell when she was taken from him, finding her place in Alaxia with all the other pure souls who belonged there.
It’s our soul , she whispered dreamily into his mind. If I deserve it, so do you.
Azazel set her gently on the bed, watching her chest rise and fall. He longed to crawl in beside her, wrap his arms around her, and protect her from this horrifying world and all that was to come. But she hadn’t crossed that line, hadn’t invited him into her bed—or her heart.
He sat uncomfortably in the too-small vanity chair beside the bed, letting his wings evaporate. Even as he shrunk to the size of a man, the chair poked his thighs and rammed into his back. The discomfort faded as Rebecca’s mind filled with her dreams, and Azazel let himself in, watching as she stepped through the iron gates into the cemetery at the back of her estate.
Gargoyle-like creatures circled her on one side, pawing the earth, snorting, tethered by some invisible force. On the other side, towering trees formed a wall behind her, their water-speckled branches dotted with bright red, orange, and yellow flowers.
The world was dark, covered in a deep blanket of snow.
Rebecca squared off against a shadow creature. It swiped, drawing a line of blood across her cheek. Everywhere her blood fell, green vines unfurled, rising to meet her. They wrapped around her legs, pricking her skin in places. Where blood welled, blooms in shades of blue erupted.
She held out a hand, conjuring a ball of fire in her palm. As the flame grew, petals drooped and fell from the flowers at her feet.
Passing her flame to Azazel, he joined her in the dream, no longer a spectator but a shadow at her side.
He caught the flame, mirroring her movements as he flung it at a massive shadow wreathing Elizabeth. The flame landed, burning holes through the creature, shriveling it until nothing was left.
Rebecca moved, towering over the creature he had just turned to dust, but before he could shout for her to stop, a woman moaned, appearing from the smoke. She gazed up at Rebecca, yellow eyes pleading.
Rebecca conjured a spear, calling it from the earth, and crushed the woman, burying her as she called on vines and roots to pull her under.
When a hand shot from the ground, Rebecca called on her flame. It came, but it was a flicker of her usual power .
Azazel searched frantically for a way to feed her energy, to make her strong again when Rebecca scanned the trees forming her half of the perimeter and called on them for aid. The wind carried petals to her, feeding her flame until it raged. It ran down her arm, leaping to her leg, growing in size and intensity.
As the woman broke free, Rebecca sent her flames to meet her. The creature hurtled forward, and as sparks reached her, she was engulfed in a blaze.
Rebecca raised a second hand, calling on the trees. Another breeze sent petals into her palm, and she pointed one finger at the woman, strengthening the flames.
The yellow-eyed being staggered, pressing forward. One foot pushed into the ground and broke free as she tried to step again. The second leg broke off at the knee as her charred black limbs remained fused to earth. She tumbled forward, crumbling to dust.
Rebecca raised her arms to the sky, calling rain down upon them. It pelted the creature, washing away the charred remains to nothing.
Thick black smoke rose from the ashes as a red-eyed demon formed in the mist.
Azazel lunged for it, but Rebecca threw up her hands, trapping the demon in a cyclone of air. It beat against its cage, roaring.
He beamed, pride radiating from him as she mastered her gift, but she staggered backward under the weight of it. Vines reached for her, holding her up. Rough bark brushed her calves and thighs as the vegetation surrounding her leaned in, offering support.
Her back bent unnaturally as the demon pressed against her magic. Wind whipped at her shoulders, pushing her upright. A tear slid down her cheek as she gritted her teeth. Her arms fell, and she gasped, stumbling to her knees.
The cyclone dissipated, and the demon lunged.
Azazel met it, blocking its path, but it was faster, wrapping frigid fingers around his neck, choking the energy from him.
He gasped as he dug taloned nails into the vice-like arms of the creature. It was their bond breaking, not his neck, but try as he might, he couldn’t free himself. His chest constricted painfully as the piece of his soul he’d fought to reunite for more than a century tore free and launched into the abyss.
Azazel sat forward, clutching his chest as he gasped .
Sanura.
It couldn’t be their future. It was a nightmare, a memory of a past he worked to block from his mind every day. Sanura was long gone. She could never harm his mate again. Still, thoughts of her earlier comments circled his mind. Why would Elizabeth want Sanura’s necklace? What did she hope to do with it?
He stood, drawn by the need to seek comfort in her touch.
As he leaned into the bed, she rolled toward him, her hand running over the blanket.
Eyes closed in sleep, she patted the empty space, searching for something, or someone.
He stretched his fingers toward hers.
“Simon.”
If Azazel had a heart, it would have shattered. He snatched his hand back before they made contact, stumbling away from the bed and pressing it to his chest. For a moment, he gasped around the pain before winking out of the room.
He became dust and hovered over the roof. Not far enough that he wouldn’t know if she were in danger, but far enough that he wouldn’t hear her words should any more daggers spill from her lips.
But it wasn’t far enough. She pictured Simon’s face, and the image was thrust into his mind.
He raced higher, desperate to escape her thoughts.
He had foolishly assumed she was finally free of him when she learned of Valentina.
Simon had found Rebecca in all her lives and Gabriel had resolved to leave her mortal form to take what comfort she could in another human.
In Rebecca’s first life, he had hardly dared believe his soul was not lost for eternity. When he felt the pulse of that missing part of him, a long-dead hope was revived. He found her, watched her from a distance, and promised himself he would not make the same mistakes he’d made the first time.
When she died, he held her hand, even as terror tore through him, unsure of what would happen to her soul .
But she didn’t go to Alaxia. Instead, her half of his soul settled into a new body—one he’d hardly noticed before—but at that moment, he realized, even from birth, a fraction of his tattered soul had been parceled into a new life, waiting until it could be restored.
It happened again, and he thought he would go mad, but Dina was there, reminding him that nothing had gone right when he inserted himself into her first life.
Then, Claire. He raged at the memory of Claire, dead by Simon’s hand, her supposed protector, and knew the beast didn’t deserve to live. But Rachel had already absorbed her soul, and she clung to the creature, even in childhood. It would have been worse to leave her with only Alexander.
Gabriel had wanted to go to her then, to take her far away from the life she’d been thrust into, but in the end, he’d taken his sister’s advice and left her to suffer whatever human fate awaited her.
Even as it chipped away at his soul.
He had thrown himself into the affairs of other men, coming to the aid of his siblings to reduce the demon population.
When her soul cried out for him, drawing him to the cold gymnasium floor, Gabriel had acted selfishly for the first time, unable to bear the thought of his other half leaving him once more, possibly forever this time.
Gabriel was a fool. Gabriel was dead.