Beloved Purgatory (Fallen Angels, Book 2) (39 page)

"Camael," Sariel drawled condescendingly. His eyes
flashed silver. "You've appeared before me twice now, and each time
you've drawn attention to yourself. You have a lot of nerve."

I shivered. His tone was far more acidic than I
would've expected. Sariel believed that all heavenly bodies were
reflections of God. If he didn't hate God anymore, why did he
reserve special treatment for this angel? Did it have something to
do with what the devils had mentioned about Camael and his
relationship with the demons--

"Unhand her." Camael opened his eyes. That perfect,
tropical blue had been swallowed by fire. Tactile skin had been
replaced by ethereal light. The flames danced over it, spreading up
through his hair, over his limbs, and down the tip of his
sword.

"You're serious," Sariel murmured.

Camael took a step forward.

"If you do this, you interfere with God's will. I
know the true nature of this world was kept hidden from the angels,
but--"

"It doesn't matter what she is, or what God or anyone
else wants," Camael said. "I don't care about prophecies. Whatever
fate our Father planned for us shall come to pass, regardless of
how much we scheme or struggle. I promised to protect her, and so I
will. That is my purpose."

Azazel bellowed behind him. He fell to his knees. His
skin had already turned to scales. The dragon would consume him,
soon.

Sariel gazed at Shamsiel. "Are you ready?"

"Does it matter?" Shamsiel responded as he shut his
own eyes.

The temperature rose. The surface of the cave
sizzled, like someone had just poured water over rocks in a sauna.
The air became arid. Gold and red flames surrounded his body,
consuming his flesh and wings until he was completely lost in a
ball of fire.

Oh no. He's going to blast all of us, just like
he'd done in Lucifer's throne room
. How much time did we have?
Two minutes? We were all gonna get fried...

Camael rushed forward. The dragon arched his back.
And Forneus ran in the opposite direction.

Seriously?
I probably would have picked up a
rock and chucked it at the coward, but the silver demon near my
side bent his head and began to change.

When I was little, I always told people that my
favorite animal was a Unicorn-Pegasus. They would, of course,
inform me that such a creature did not exist. I'd say that neither
Unicorns nor Pegasuses existed anyway, so why did it matter? And
they'd finish the conversation by telling me I was stupid.

I didn't care how stupid I was. A Unicorn-Pegasus was
the most holy creature in the universe--a symbol of purity, as
white as the moon, that could take flight. And so when he raised
his head I began to ache. I felt young, naive, and simple--exactly
as I did when I rested my head on Kai's lap as a child, and the two
of us would watch the spring apple blossoms fall around us like
snow.

Sariel extended his long, delicate neck. His silver
mane caught the light of both angels, and for a moment his horn and
wings were lit in both avenging and protective fire.

My Unicorn-Pegasus
, I thought as I touched my
lips.
The most beautiful thing I've ever seen
.

And he wanted to destroy the world.

Camael's sword clashed with the horn. Sariel tried to
knock it from his hands, but Camael pressed down, as if he was
trying to sever it. Then, flames spilled from his body, cloaking
Sariel in flames. Azazel circled around the back and whipped his
tail around. It knocked Sariel off his hooves.

My chest constricted when I saw him fall.
He's
evil, Devi. He wants to end everything in existence.

My heart refused to listen.
But he's a
Unicorn-Pegasus
.

My hands shook as I pressed them over my eyes. What
was wrong with me? How could I feel anything for such a creature?
Was I so moved by images that my convictions meant nothing?

I looked up just in time to see the Sariel stab
Azazel with his horn. Black blood streamed down its length,
staining his silver forehead and hair.

"Oz!" I screamed, but no one could hear me. The sound
of battle and rocks crashing to the floor echoed through the
cave.

Camael swung his sword into Sariel's neck. The
flames, again, flowed through his body, charring his silver coat.
Sariel neighed wildly, tossing his head back and forth.

I didn't know much about the hierarchy of
angels--only that Camael was one of the Powers, which meant that
he'd been below Azazel, and that Sariel seemed to at least be on
the same level as Azazel. Those things didn't matter in a fight
like this. They might have been greater angels, or even more
beloved by God, but Camael had been built to fight.

He blasted Sariel back with another round of fire.
The silver demon could barely move, now, and the dragon took this
opportunity to leap on him. His black canines sank into the
Unicorn-Pegasus' flank.

"Devi, down!" Camael called out.

I froze for a second, then panicked and belly-flopped
to the ground.

Needless to say, it was an awful idea.

My teeth sank through my lip. Rocks cut into my chin
and neck, and sliced through my stomach. I prayed Camael had no
other instructions for me, because I couldn't move.

I cracked my eyes open and spit, trying to rid my
mouth of the sanguine metallic taste. From the cave wall to the tip
of Camael's sword was a wall of fire.

A wave of heat radiated from the other side of the
wall. It pushed Camael's flames out, but the wall itself remained
intact. The heat also wasn't nearly as scorching as it had been in
Hell.

"Shamsiel," Camael yelled out.

The only answer was another blast of heat.

Camael dashed in front of me and absorbed the burning
air. I guess there was only so much heat his wall of fire could
withstand. My fingernails scraped against the rock floor. Dirt and
blood mixed with sweat and stung my busted lip. Even with the angel
by my side it was too hot. If this went on much longer, my insides
would liquefy.

Camael held out his hand. A second wall of fire
surrounded us, but the heat was leaking through it fast, and each
heat wave was more relentless than the last.

"Azazel, we must go!" Camael yelled. "Leave
Sariel!"

As soon as Camael spoke the silver demon's name,
relentless waves of heat pulsated outwards.
My lungs are on
fire
, I thought as the walls of the cave glowed red.
My
vision wavered as if I were caught in a mirage. Maybe this is all a
dream
.

Blisters bubbled on my back. I screamed and rolled to
the side.

It wasn't a dream. My dreams were never this messed
up.

Oh God, I want Oz
.

I knew it probably wasn't the smartest wish. I didn't
know how Oz felt about me anymore. In fact, there was a pretty good
chance that he'd hate and want to kill me. But that didn't matter.
I needed him--his warm smile, the scent of his leather jacket, the
smell of his ridiculous car...

Alright, maybe I didn't miss that last part, but I'd
take it. Surrounded by suicidal angels and demons and holy fire,
the place I wanted to be most was in his arms.

"It's alright, Devi," a voice whispered. Soft hands
slipped beneath my battered stomach. I heard a sharp intake of
breath as a green, soothing haze settled over my skin.

I looked up and almost jumped out of his arms. He was
there--those familiar, sweet eyes, that crooked mouth--the guy I
loved.

"Oz?" I winced. It still hurt to speak.

"It's time to go. Camael can't hold him off
forever."

You don't have to convince me to leave
, I
thought. "How..." Questions swarmed in my mind.
Why do you look
like Oz? You were just a dragon--how did you change?

"Shh, Devi. Don't say anything."

We were already moving towards the back of the cave.
Camael trailed behind us, panting as he kept up the wall of fire
intact.

"Forneus has made a portal," Oz sneered.

Well, I guess if I were him I wouldn't be too fond of
Forneus either. At least he hadn't ditched us, though.

The devil looked over his shoulder, his face shadowed
by the rocks. Or maybe that dark stuff was just blood.

"Ready?"

Oz's fingers flexed, involuntarily cutting into my
raw skin. "Damn, sorry."

Don't sound so concerned, I'll be alright
. I
wanted to say it, but I couldn't. My head rolled back as another
wave of heat ripped through us.

"Don't leave me again," Oz whispered.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head, and blood
dripped out the corner of my mouth. Before I could give a proper
response, he jumped forward. There was a flash of purple light. I
wrapped my arms around Oz's neck and shut my eyes as an intolerable
pressure built in my temples. Indistinguishable, horrific sounds
grew louder, like an airplane taking off--or like the entire world
falling apart.

I screamed.

***

I was still screaming when I fell on top of Oz.

He groaned as I rolled off his chest onto the
hardwood floor.

Nice Forneus
, I thought. I really wish the
portal's exit had been a feather bed. Or a hot tub. Or something
other than this.

The floor vibrated. No, more accurately throbbed.

I winced and looked up. I couldn't see much with my
blurry vision. The room was black, but bright red and white things
floated on the floor. Balloons, I think they were. They were red
and white, my school colors.

My stomach tightened. No. It can't be.

I craned up my neck, and saw what felt like 500
people giving me the biggest "WTF-faces" I'd ever seen.

I shut my eyes, trying to silence the roaring in my
ears. Bryan Adams' "(Everything I Do) I Do it for You" was blasting
in the background.

Oh no
. I could think of only one place in
Portland that would play such music.

I glanced up at the posters behind the bleachers,
proudly displaying the two years our football team had won State in
our school's history--1968 and 1970.

High School gym. Insanely catchy pop music.
Teenagers.

All of that could only mean one thing: we'd crashed
Winter Formal.

Camael stood up first. He sparkled even more than the
disco ball overhead, but of course I was the only mortal who could
see his light. He stretched out his four wings and grabbed Forneus
by the scruff of his neck. Then, holding the devil out in front
like a shield, he walked forward.

My school's female population had unanimously
declared Forneus "the hottest guy ever." Every girl who had been
called ugly, or who had a cat that had gotten run over in the
second grade, or who suffered from a mild headache, tried to sign
up for one of his coveted "counseling sessions." Yet tonight, as
Camael led him out of the gym, they squeaked as they recoiled,
giving the angel a wide, clear path. It kind of reminded me of
Moses parting the red sea.

But really, who could blame them? Forneus looked like
he'd just been through Hell. Stringy hair clung to his sweaty,
bloody face, and his clothes were scarlet. The only good thing I
could say about his appearance was that he looked better than he
had. His guts were in his stomach, and he only looked like he'd
been hit by a truck, not burned to a crisp by the sun.

Bryan Adams was still cooing in the background when
Oz picked me up.

Now that Forneus had disappeared--without anyone
following him, I should add--everyone stared at us. This was a
little disconcerting because I still had no idea how we'd ended up
here. Had we fallen through the ceiling? Had there been a
portal?

I really didn't want to think about the
worst-case-scenario, but it popped into my head. What if I--the
school's overly emotional problem child--had burst through a
glowing purple orb in the ceiling and fallen on top of the tattooed
older guy that picks me up in his creepy car every day? And what if
we'd both fallen on the new school counselor, who looked like he'd
been beat-up by said tattooed older guy?

How the Hell would one explain that?

"What are we going to tell them?" I whispered.

Oz set me down. "Nothing."

We have to say something
, I thought. But
before I could pester him, he wrapped his battered arms around me
and started to dance.

I shut my eyes and leaned into him. It was probably
the most ungraceful dancing anyone in the room had ever seen. I
didn't care, and even if I did we weren't really dancing--just
rocking back and forth while hugging each other. His lips were on
my neck, and his cheek right below my ear.

"You changed into Oz pretty quickly," I said
awkwardly.

"I always change quickly when I'm in demon form."

Then why don't you just change into demon form
whenever you need to change into something?
I almost asked. But
I realized I already knew the answer--it was because he really
hated that part of himself that much.

The gym doors burst open with a bang.

My pulse skyrocketed. My muscles tensed, ready for an
attack.

The music switched from Bryan Adams to Lady Gaga's
"Born this Way." Over her singing, we heard a man's battle cry:
"Cannon Ball!"

What? After all this I have to look at another
naked man?
Tim Cannon took advantage of the parted crowd
(curtesy of Forneus), belted out another "Cannon Ball!", and
charged. I stuffed my face into Oz's ripped black t-shirt.

Then, his thundering footsteps stopped.

Tim's nasally, high-pitched voice interrupted Lady
Gaga's chorus. "Dude, what happened to you?"

I knew I shouldn't look. Nothing good would come of
it. However, sometimes people do things they know aren't good for
them. I rolled my head to the side and got a good enough look to
confirm Kim's belief that it had, in fact, been Tim Cannon in the
back of that car on Halloween.