Beloved Purgatory (Fallen Angels, Book 2) (32 page)

No, you're not making sense
, I thought, but
the suddenly large lump in my throat stopped me.

"I used to think you were just nothing, but you're
evil, aren't you? You hide it well, behind those big, emotional
eyes. Your mother called me crazy. She thought there was something
wrong with me, for thinking such 'awful things' about my own child,
but it's true."

His large, shaking hands whipped around my throat. I
could see his muscles straining, his chest heaving, his head
bobbing each time he pushed forward, trying to stop me from
breathing.

I felt nothing. Gray sweat dripped off his chin. Even
when it fell on my skin, I felt nothing. The only thing I felt was
pity as I looked up at that pure, relentless hatred in his eyes. He
wanted to kill me so badly--he wanted to hurt me so badly--and he
couldn't even touch me.

And I couldn't touch him.

If I tried to kiss his cheek the same way I did when
I was a child, I wouldn't feel his whiskers. If I stopped his hands
from strangling me, I wouldn't be able to hold them. If I leaned
forward to give him a hug, my face would pass through his
torso.

Tears ran down my neck, straight through his hands.
They stopped only when they were absorbed by the collar of my
shirt. He didn't even seem to notice I was crying.

Forneus didn't seem to notice, either--or rather, he
noticed but didn't care. "We're almost done," he said.

It shocked me to hear his voice. I'd completely
forgotten about him. But there he sat, in my peripheral vision,
with his hands clasped together, chanting something under his
breath in a foreign tongue.

My father's voice sliced through his rhythmic,
reverent tone. "You took away the only thing I loved. I should have
killed you. I should have waited for you to come home and shot you
instead. Why are you here? Why didn't he come for me?"

His face twisted. "Kai," he whimpered. "Where are
you?"

The chanting stopped.

The hands at my neck turned into light--the ethereal,
haunting light of Heaven. I remembered, briefly, my promise to Oz
to look away, but I couldn't. Not when my father looked at me with
big, hollow eyes. Eyes, I realized, that looked as peaceful and
distant as Kai's. But no, he didn't remind me just of Kai--he also
looked like Camael.

"Devi," my father whispered, as if seeing me for the
first time. He inhaled, once, quickly, opened his lips...

And disappeared.

The air suddenly felt heavy. My tears had left sticky
trails on my skin. I was once again alone, with a devil, in the
endless space of purgatory.

Forneus sighed. "We're done. Ready to leave?"

"What just happened? He was trying to kill me a
moment ago, and then he suddenly..." I hugged my arms.

"I warned you that speaking to him would be
unpleasant. As far as your other question, he went to Heaven, of
course." He smirked. "Aren't you going to thank me for releasing
him?"

I nodded, but in the end I couldn't bring myself to
thank him. "What about the other spirits, Forneus?"

He raised a brow. "What about them?"

"Are you just going to leave them here?"

"Yes."

I winced. "Are they going to continue to suffer?"

"Yes, until God frees them." His eyes locked onto
mine, challenging me. "Now, are you ready to leave?"

He held out his arm and I clung to it.

He didn't say anything as I grabbed the hem of my
shirt to wipe my nose. Perhaps his callous heart felt something for
me, or maybe he was just tired.

Silently, he led me out of that place, filled with
horrors created by severed minds, and that impenetrable loneliness
that comes from being separated from what you love most for all
eternity.

My body shook from anticipation. I felt guilty for
wanting to leave so badly, but I couldn't help it. Every part of me
ached, and my eyes were hungry for color, even if it did come from
those desperate plants blooming feverishly at the entrance to
Purgatory.

Once out, I got what I wanted:

The glowing purple jungle of the
Rukah-Hayim
;

A glowing white Camael;

And a glowing green Azazel.

Chapter 17

Green flames shot up randomly from Azazel's heaving
chest and shoulders like a demonic version of whack-a-mole. He was
pissed. It didn't take a psychic to figure that out. And
Camael...well, as an angelic automaton it was hard to read him, but
he was sparkling. A lot. And in a way that somehow seemed both
disapproving and threatening.

I looked down to avoid their gazes. I had to have
been imagining things. They were just sparkles, so by definition,
they couldn't be dangerous--there were no such things as fatal
cupcakes, Barbie accessories, or glitter glue. He was just shining
like that to make me feel all warm and--

Camael pointed his flaming sword at the devil's
throat.

Never mind. Those are bad sparkles.

"What did you do?" Camael demanded.

"Do you need to ask?" Forneus placed his hand on the
sword and pushed down. The scent of burning flesh filled the cave,
but after wiping his hands on his slacks once, the wound on his
palm healed. "I did what neither of you could. I saved her
father."

Azazel's eyes narrowed. "Her father?"

Camael's grip on the sword tightened.

"Yes. Her father killed himself. Devi wanted to
release his spirit." Forneus grinned. "Can you really blame her for
making such an offer? Out of everyone here, you understand the most
how painful it is for a spirit to be caught in Purgatory. Or have
you already forgotten?"

Azazel's face twisted. He brought his fist against
the side of the cave, smashing the
Rukah-Hayim
with a
pounding sound. Purple sparks sped past his smoldering green
form.

Forneus tisked. "It isn't fair to take your anger
out on living things."

"You can't describe anything that originates from
this place as living," Azazel murmured.

The devil smirked. "Do you put yourself in that
category?"

"Of course." Azazel pressed his forehead to the
barren, jagged rock. The remaining
Rukah-Hayim
curled away
from him. "I wish you had not done this."

Who was Azazel speaking to? I glanced over at
Forneus. Beads of perspiration collected on his upper lip. The
devil rolled his head to the side and wiped them away with the back
of his hand, then scratched his cheek, as if that had been his
intention all along.

Before I could speak, Azazel's knuckles cracked as
he curled his hand into a fist again.

My heart hammered in my chest. He's going to hit the
wall again, I thought. But he didn't. Instead, he turned around and
pulled me into his chest.

I couldn't stop myself from crying any longer. I
couldn't pretend that my father's horrible words did not affect me.
I couldn't remain oblivious of Azazel's grief. The marks on his
body moved to where my tears fell, then bled over the surface of
his skin like smeared ink.

Azazel understood my sadness, even those things I
dared not speak. He felt it as if it were his own. And I loved him
more than anything. Even when he had fallen under Forneus' control,
and his eyes looked through me as if I were nothing to him, I'd
loved him. I knew somewhere hidden beneath that fearful exterior
was a young man, a teenage girl, and a small boy, and that all
three hated and feared that power even more than I did.

So why were my hands curling into fists? Why did I
wedge them between us? Why was I pushing against him?

I know God made angels irresistible to man. Anyone
with a human body desired to be near them. Oz had told me that,
once. But, conversely, had He engineered my body to fear fallen
angels? Or was there just something wrong with me?

I didn't understand the markings on his demon body.
I knew the dragon lurked just beneath his skin. At any moment he
could change into something I did not recognize and instinctively
feared--in fact, even when he just stood before me in the form of
his fallen angel, I feared him. And I couldn't hide it. Not the
trembling in my limbs, the panicked escalation of my heartbeat, or
how I recoiled when he leaned forward, as if he were so vile that
just the thought of touching him disgusted me.

He took a step back. "Is being this close to me
really that awful?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, averting my gaze to my
feet.

"Look at me," he said.

"Okay," I said. But I didn't move.

"Devi," he whispered, then repeated: "Look at
me."

I still couldn't, so he pulled up my chin and I had
my eyes shut. I felt his breath on me--too hot, like fire--and my
eyes opened.

He really was beautiful, dressed in ethereal green
light. Long midnight black hair obscured his features. His tattoos
dripped from his shoulders, still heavy and wet from my tears.

I almost touched them.
You looked so happy in
Forneus' fantasy world. I want that for you, not this harsh,
frightening beauty.
But I couldn't tell him that. I had a
feeling telling him about my little trip with the devil was a bad
idea.

"See? I'm not afraid," I told him.

"I can see you trembling," he said. "Even your
heartbeat seems to..."

He didn't finish, and I didn't ask how he could tell
what my heart was doing.

"We should go," Camael said. I jumped. I'd
completely forgotten about him and Forneus.

The devil worked his jaw silently. His face was
whiter than Camael's sparkles. He fidgeted with the hem of his
jacket. And he was staring at Azazel and me like he wanted to rip
the two of us apart.

What was wrong with him?

Azazel seemed too upset to notice. "You know why
these rules are in place. If you interfere with her, you could
interfere with God's curse. This is the one area where I can act
against you..." He swallowed, his skin glowing a deeper green,
breathing in deeply before continuing. "You swore I could protect
the ones I love, and you found a way to even take that from
me."

Forneus studied his nails. "You'll be thankful,
soon, that I was the one to do it."

Azazel faced him. The emerald fire in his eyes was
deadly. "And you'll regret it, forever."

"Don't be so melodramatic--"

"Our contract was supposed to prevent this from
happening," Azazel interrupted. "You can't take away my ability to
protect her, from you or anyone else."

Forneus pressed his lips together. "I cannot refuse
anyone who comes to me."

Azazel laughed twice, humorlessly. "I'll never
believe that she thought of this on her own."

The devil's posture straightened. "If she hadn't
been the one to initiate this, it wouldn't have happened."

"That doesn't matter. You put the thought in her
head. You made it so this would happen, even though it
shouldn't."

Forneus looked down. "Believe what you want."

"When we get back home, I'll tear you apart."

His face paled, and he looked down at his healed
hand.

"Think, Azazel. I know you hate doing that, but
please. If you do, I think you'll see that this isn't something you
could have stopped. She has an angel--and not just any angel, but
Camael--following her. Why would someone like Him do that?"

Someone like Camael? "What do you mean. My brother
asked him--"

Forneus put a finger to my lips. "Yes, he did. But
the angel would not have been able to follow your brother's
request, had it not been God's will. Isn't that right?"

Azazel snarled. "I don't care."

"Fine, don't care, and don't come whining to me when
you realize that all this was inevitable. She was never meant for
someone like you."

"Both of you should stop," Camael said. "You're
upsetting Devi."

The devil chuckled. "Oh no, we wouldn't want to do
anything to upset our little darling--"

"Forneus," the angel warned. The devil lowered his
head like a chastised child. Camael sighed. "Alright. Devi, take my
hand. Let's leave this place."

"Are you really going to leave in the center of our
nursery?" Forneus asked without raising his head. "You'll damage
the plants."

"Maybe you should have thought of that before
bringing her to this place," Azazel grumbled.

"And maybe you should heed the angel's words and not
'upset Devi.' She has a sensitive, fragile heart. Unlike you, the
Rukah-Hayim
is a living being, regardless of whether or not
you recognize that fact."

Camael squinted at Forneus. "Would it bother
you?"

It took me a moment to realize he was talking to me.
I answered honestly. "Can we do it somewhere else?"

Camael held the devil's gaze for a minute longer.
"Fine. Devi, you walk after me. Then Forneus. Then Azazel."

Forneus raised his brows. "You don't trust me?"

Azazel kicked the devil in the shin. Camael looked
ahead, ignoring them. "Let's go," he said.

He still hadn't looked at me. None of them did
except Forneus, rarely, sneaking a peek out of the corner of his
eye. I inhaled deeply. We needed to leave before I lost my mind.
Slowly, I followed Camael's glowing form through the cave.

A violet, luminescent shadow followed the angel
through the cave. Though the
Rukah-Hayim
sunk away from
Forneus, Azazel and I, it reached out to Camael. The purple
tentacles were stretched so taught it looked like they would pop
off the walls, and the specimens on the ground tried to wrap
themselves around his ankles. He moved precisely and at a clipped
pace, keeping his head bent and his arms close to his sides.

I tried to keep my eyes on my own path, but it was
hard. I'd never seen Camael's elegant posture crumble before.
Still, it made sense. He, himself, was so far from God in this
place. And yet, to the condemned beings trapped here, he was the
closest they would ever come to God's light.