Then, as if to prove his point, Gabriel was gone. Jarrod still held the note. A moment passed in silence before Sullivan engaged the useless dead bolt.
“What’d he say, Jarrod?” Eden said. Her voice cracked, weak, as she spoke.
Jarrod slid the note through his fingers. The creases were damp and deep, as if Gabe had been worrying it in his pocket for hours. Slowly, he unfolded it.
In nearly illegible scrawl, was a single sentence.
Do not leave Eden alone with me.
CHAPTER 3
Once, Eden had asked Az what Upstairs was like. He’d told her it was a figment of the imagination, filled in with the fantastical thoughts of those mortals whose paths led Upstairs. The Bound themselves didn’t dream, incapable of contributing to the beauty around them.
You’re not one of them, Az reminded himself. Still, despite his efforts, everything around him—the walls, the bed, the locked door—was white as blank canvas.
Not for long.
Az pushed all his energy into remembering the exact shade of Eden’s eyes, deep cerulean like the undercurl of waves. Imagined that same color washing across the pillowcases, dripping onto the white tiled floor, puddling.
You can do this.
“Blue,” he whispered. “Turn blue.” Gripping the sheets in his fists, he prayed for even a single thread to change. If he could imagine the color into reality, he could create a key, envision a portal, create an escape. He could find a way back to her. So far, his efforts had yielded only a headache. His eyes burned, watered. Please.
Nothing happened.
He pushed off the bed and started pacing the floor again, his shoulders heaving. An angry growl burst out of him, building to a scream. He’d ripped off fingernails clawing at the bars on the window, though they’d healed. He’d spent the first two days attacking anyone who entered the cell, fighting to get past them and out. He never made it.
Every fiber in his body ached for Eden. For the scent of her shampoo when she curled up with him on the couch and the way she pushed her sleeves up when she was frustrated, and her eyes, those eyes so blue he wanted to drown in them forever. And yet . . .
Through the bars of his window, he could hear water babbling in a nearby stream. Birds chirping as the warm glow of the sun once again lit the realm. Others souls’ dreams painted the scenery with glorious mountains dotted with columbines. Air free of exhaust. Beauty. It called to parts of him he’d secreted away deep inside, tortured him with its siren song.
Home. He curled his hands around the bars. The thought was there before he could stop it, his heart catching in his throat.
No.
He ripped his hands away, ashamed, and dropped back onto the bed. Don’t give in, he commanded himself. Don’t forget her. You have to get back to Eden.
The click of the door unlocking sounded. Az slid back across the bed until his shoulders hit the wall as he recognized the angel entering his room. Raphael.
When he’d been Bound, Az had been one of the few trusted to stay in the mortal realm. Then he’d fallen in love, been spotted with her by Michael, and brought before the council. The angel standing before him now was the one who’d handed down the punishment. Az hadn’t seen him since.
The memory of that day coursed through him, ripping open old wounds. Az remembered the laugh he hadn’t been able to hide when Raphael told him he was to be cast out. He hadn’t cared, would have sacrificed himself a thousand times. His sentence only meant nothing kept him from the girl he loved, the one he’d chosen to give up heaven for anyway. But while he’d been Upstairs in front of the council, the Fallen had made their move. By the time he got back, they’d captured her.
The Fallen, angels he’d once known as friends, had held him back as they passed her around, each of them tearing out bits of her skin. Even now, after so much time, the memory of her screams made his bones ache. When the life had finally drained out of her, they’d tossed her aside like a broken plaything. Under the weight of his new wings, Az had stumbled away, broken with loss. Only Gabriel’s constant vigilance in the years afterward had kept him from Falling.
A wave of fresh resolve filled Az at the memory. He finally met Raphael’s pale eyes. The irises were almost white, barely distinguishable from the rest. Light shimmered across his dark skin, seemed to leak from within, a holy radiance.
“Still not a word?” the Bound angel said, each syllable echoing like a musical note. The corner of Raphael’s mouth turned up. “I’d forgotten how much I admire your tenacity, misguided though it may be at times.”
Az pressed his lips together, straightening. Upstairs, words could be dangerous. Speaking to any of them was a risk he wasn’t willing to take. Plus, his silence irritated them, making it all the more appealing.
“It’s good to see you again, frien—”
Never will I be one of them. Bound or Fallen, he promised himself.
Raphael recoiled. “Oh, your hate is so strong,” he murmured. The cadence of his words altered, a melody of sadness. “Not for us, though. You despise yourself.”
Caught unprepared, Az tightened his jaw. Raphael’s head tilted in concentration.
“You flicker, Azazel. The light is inside you.” He held a hand out as if to trace Az’s cheek. “It aches to flare bright again! Why do you fight?”
Az jerked away. He couldn’t bear the need inside him to be complete. One of them. Whole again.
“How sorely you ache for this to end,” Raphael said. “Forgive yourself as we’ve forgiven you. Release yourself of this guilt, Azazel. Let go.”
The words, the name, wormed into his mind, clogging his thoughts until they didn’t make sense. Tension spooled loose from his limbs, left him docile. His eyes slipped shut as he tried to call up an image of Eden, something to make him strong. But her face wouldn’t come.
“You want this, Azazel. We’ve missed you so.” Raphael gave his shoulder a tender squeeze.
Az cupped his hands over his ears. In his palms, he heard the rush of his blood, pounding like waves against the shore. He latched onto the image. You met her on the beach. You couldn’t bear the thought of not knowing her. You fought to be with her. A dozen memories of Eden surfaced, suddenly crystal clear. She loves you as much as you love her. Be strong. He could almost hear her voice, encouraging him.
“Stubborn,” Raphael tsked. “Even before your return, we beckoned you home. Does the honor not please you? To be so needed?”
There’s no honor in this, Az thought, but didn’t give him the satisfaction of saying it aloud.
When there was no response, Raphael looked dismayed. “I won’t deny that they’re fascinating, these Pathless creatures you’re so taken with,” he said lightly. “It’s almost as if they believe they’re still mortal. They don’t seem to understand why they can’t be allowed to survive.”
Az looked up. Had the Bound already begun wiping out the Siders?
“Surely you understand why we must end them. This could be your glory, Azazel. Ridding us of this plague.” Raphael leaned closer, his pale eyes persuasive. “Their ends are swift. The pain lasts but a moment.”
“You stay away from them!” Az yelled, and leaped forward. He swung his fist, but Raphael flashed away before it could connect, reappearing behind him.