Chapter Nineteen
“Oh, Perry,” Ari-el says, shaking her head. “You shouldn’t have done that. If the demons devour his grace…it would be bad. Unspeakably bad.”
I shrug and swallow the last piece of French toast Ryan brought me. “I took it. His grace is now roaming around at the Gates of Heaven until he’s ready to claim it. And when were you going to tell me that my sword gave me access to the Great Hall of Records?”
Once I shifted back to my family and told them how I handed Samael’s ass to him, the party has been nonstop. French toast, coffee, and mini-éclair’s for everyone.
“The what?” Ari-el says.
“Really? You don’t know what that is?” I ask, scootching over so Haines can sit next to me. He’s warmed up more French toast and bacon for me. Love him!
“Well,” she says, eyeing my breakfast, “beneath the Great Sphynx there sits a library that—”
I shake my head. “Wait. What? No! The Great Hall of Records. The Akashic Records? The freaking Collective Consciousness? Don’t you watch Discovery?”
She still looks confused. Hell, I would be too.
“It’s the collective consciousness of everything. Everyone.”
She tilts her head back as her mouth forms a perfect ‘O.’ “The Magna aula experientia! Yes, I know of it. But your basic angel does not have access to this. We are to live life as angels and be separate from everything else.”
That doesn’t make any sense. Every experience, even those of angels, is in the library. When I’m holding my sword I feel like I know everything. It’s wonderful. It’s scary, like a drug. Every now and then I find myself pulling my hand to my hip. I don’t make it manifest, but having my hand where it would be if I did pull it out comforts me. I’m supposed to bring order to the Reaper Angels. That shit sounds hard. My sword makes me feel better. As if I have all the knowledge I need to do the job. Sheyeah, not that simple.
“So, Ari-el,” I ask, moving my hand from my hip to my coffee mug. “What am I supposed to do now? How am I supposed to do whatever I’m supposed to do?” Probably should have asked that question a few days ago.
She bites the inside of her lip and frowns. “I wouldn’t know where to begin. Maybe you should read the scrolls that contain the prophesy concerning you. What I do know is that I will be your personal Messenger Angel.”
“What the hell is that?” I ask.
Ari-el smiles and looks almost giddy. “When you are unable to do so I will deliver messages from you to the Reaper Angels. If a message were to be handed down by Him I will be your messenger.”
Him. Does she mean the Him? “You mean I could get messages from God? Like…God?”
“Oh, yes.” She takes a sip of her cocoa. “You are the Angel of Death, and you wield one of the most powerful weapons in existence. Did you not think that the Almighty communicated with us?” She smiles, picks up a fork, and then takes a piece of French toast from my plate.
I stare at her blankly as she chews. “When did you and I get here?” I ask. I don’t share food.
Just because she’s my new PA doesn’t mean she can take liberties. My food is my food, and if she tries it again, I’ll poke her with my fork.
“We’ve been here all morning,” she says, shaking her head.
Let it go, Perry. She’s learning.
This feels good. Everyone is so at ease, not worrying if they are going to die today. I don’t remember ever feeling like this.
I glance over at Haines. He has barely said a word all morning. Furtive glances let me know that he’s waiting for everyone to get the hell out, but he’s being patient.
Aunt Rita comes in to the kitchen and grabs a slice of bacon. “Well, you two. Since this has all died down and you seem happily married, are you going to take a honeymoon?”
Haines pats my hand and pulls me closer to him. “Perry goes back to work in a few days. Maybe we’ll take one in a few months.”
Biting my bottom lip, I look at him and shrug. “Umm, I’m actually going to submit my letter of resignation, effective immediately. No one knows how being the Angel of Death, and apparently overlord to the Reapers, is going to affect my life. Being a physical therapist is hitting the back-burner. There are too many things for me to learn and deal with.” I elbow him in his ribs. “Besides, you’re loaded. I can mooch off you for a while. As for a honeymoon, I’m thinking New Orleans. I’ve been like eight times, but I love it. Will you take me?”
He tries to stifle a smile and clears his throat. “Of course. I haven’t been since the 1930s.”
I’m a lady of leisure! Hell yeah! I’m going to buy a smoking jacket, sit around the house, and eat bon-bons. Well, when I’m not doing Angel of Death related stuff.
After sitting in the kitchen with everyone and eating all day, Ryan, Trent, Roman, and Adkiel walk in through the front door.
Adkiel has decided to stay an angel for a little while longer. He’s promised to watch over Roman to make sure he doesn’t have any residual effects from being so close to Hell. He’s half demon, and for a cambion the traits don’t usually kick in until puberty. We just want to make sure he’s all right. I cast a spell to make him forget, but magic and people’s minds don’t always cooperate. I’m hoping and praying that he doesn’t start having nightmares.
Finally breathing a huge sigh of relief, I stand up and get more coffee. Everyone is so relaxed, and it makes me feel good. Overjoyed.
I add more water to the tea kettle, making sure to splash my hands with water and place the kettle on the stove. Trying to go unnoticed I pretend as if I’m shaking the water off my hands and splash it in the general direction of everyone in the room.
Waiting until everyone is preoccupied and not paying attention to me I whisper, “Et operui in praesidium. Volo id igitur,” and then splash more water toward them. I grab a steak knife from the block, grab an apple from the fruit bowl, and begin to cut in to it, making sure to cut my finger. Without lifting my eyes I turn on the water and let my blood run down the drain, making sure to squeeze my finger a few times to get the blood flowing. Turning off the faucet I splash more water in their direction and then whisper the protection spell again. As my cut heals before my eyes, the protection spell is cast.
Aunt Rita’s head snaps up and she catches my eyes. Getting up and walking toward me, she bites the inside of her jaw. “Walk with me,” she says, wrapping her arm around my waist.
We stand on the front porch, her shivering and me taking off my sweater to give to her.
“No, Perry,” she begins, trying to push the sweater back toward me.
I push a little harder and wrap it around her shoulders. “I don’t feel the cold.” I wink at her and smile. “Something you want to talk about?”
She pulls the sweater around her. “How did you do it? You cast a protection spell over humans, angels, demons, and half-breeds all at the same time. They all require separate spells and you did it all at once. How?”
Shrugging, I push a curly lock of hair behind my ear. “By word, water, and blood. Don’t worry. It’s just a cautionary spell. The Rite of Death and my sword make me pretty invincible. It’ll hold.”
She shakes her head. “That’s not what I’m worried about. You cast a protection spell over seven people of many different bloodlines. Even the most powerful witch can’t do that.” She looks me up and down. “You keep your hand there quite often,” she says, looking at my hip.
I pull my hand away and run my fingers through my hair. “I’m scared. The sword makes me feel better. God made it just for me, and touching it makes me feel closer to Him.” And it makes me feel powerful beyond the telling of it.
“Be careful, child. With great power comes—”
“Great responsibility, I know. But you don’t understand. I don’t know what to do, and Ari-el seems like she’s pulling this shit out of her ass. She’s scared too. For me. For the Reaper Angels. For all of us. This sword makes me feel that if I was good enough to receive it then I’m good enough to pull this off.” I reach over and pull the sweater around her neck to block out the freezing wind. “I won’t go crazy. I won’t end up like Samael.”
She sniffs and shivers again. “Why didn’t you tell them?”
I rub my hands up and down her arms and steer her toward the heat of the house. “Because if I tell them I cast a protection spell on them they’d want to know why. They’d think I knew something they didn’t, and I don’t. We can tell them if you’d like, but they all look so peaceful.”
Aunt Rita smiles and then turns the knob. “You’re right, dear. Let’s go inside.”
****
“New Orleans? Are you sure you don’t want to go to Ireland? You’ve always wanted to go.” Haines puts the last of the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and adds in way too much detergent. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”
I wipe down the kitchen counter and center the fruit bowl. It feels good to have a normal, non-death involving conversation with my husband. “Maybe later. New Orleans has always felt like my second home, and I’d like to experience it with you.”
He smiles and grabs two glasses, filling them with water. I love his smile. It didn’t appear until a few days ago, and I love it. He has seemed so light and carefree today. But he’s still all tall and big and sexy.
It’s good that everyone felt safe enough to go home without looking at everyone else as if it were a final good-bye. My mom has moved in with Aunt Rita, Roman has gone back to school, and the angels finally got to go home without worrying about being accosted.
I turn around and run in to a wall of warm muscles and soft flesh. Wrapping my arms around Haines’ neck I wrap my legs around his legs and begin to climb, not stopping until we are eye to eye. “Thank you for sticking by me through all of this. You could have walked away and I wouldn’t have blamed you.” I kiss his nose and grind my hips against his and feel his cock begin to rise.
He growls and uses both hands to grip my thighs and pulls me closer to him. “I am yours, Perrian, and I’m not going anywhere. You are mine.” He runs his nose along my jaw and bites my earlobe. “I’m going to make love to you tonight.”
“I’d like that.”
He sets me on the kitchen counter and skims his long fingers up my legs and under my skirt. Clamping his hand along my panty line he balls his hand into a fist and roughly rips them from my body. “Right after I taste you, fuck you, and feed from you right here in our kitchen. In our home.”
He pushes me down on to the counter and makes good on his word, over and over again.
This is awesome.
****
Haines lays snoring lightly in bed, the sheet sitting just right so that I can’t see his man-parts, but that perfect V-shape is almost begging me to rip off the sheet, hop on, and say ‘Hello, nurse!’
My body feels deliciously sore from the past few hours with Haines and I should be tired, but my mind is fully awake. Grabbing my robe from the closet I head downstairs so that I won’t wake Haines.
I lied to Aunt Rita today.
I don’t know what’s coming but I know something is. With all the powers I’ve been given I am a formidable ally. It’s already been proven that threatening my family will make me do anything to keep them safe. It’s also been proven that I’ll turn into a vengeful bitch against anyone who tries to harm them. But what worries me most is Haines. Severing our link will make me lose my humanity, and that’s the one thing that will keep me linked to everyone else. I can feel it. I know it.
If someone or something wants to turn me into big bad Perry, all they’d have to do is kill Haines and bide their time. As long as I live and breathe, that spell will keep all of them safe. It will keep him safe. Someone can try if they’d like. But woe to that man who would try. I’d rip this world apart to keep my family safe. That is truly what frightens me the most. I don’t know how far I’d go to keep them safe. And I don’t know how far I am capable of going. It might not end well.
A humming sounds off in my head as a light knock on the door takes me from my thoughts. It’s an angel.
I peek through the curtain and don’t recognize the person standing on the other side of the door. I ready myself for a fight. I’ll invite him in and end him just to make it clear that I am not to be toyed with. “Who the fuck are you?”
He’s tall, bald, and damn scary. He looks like he could be a WWE wrestler’s larger twin brother. His eyes are such a light brown they are almost yellow. Pale blond brows and lashes make those eyes almost hard to look at. His black leather jacket looks threatening, but the aura of light emanating from him calms me down. “I am Mael, your second in command. A Reaper Angel.”
I back out of the way and let him in. I’m not afraid. I’ll send him crying home to Daddy if he tries anything. “What’s up, Mael? It’s almost midnight.”
He clears his throat and gestures toward the breakfast nook, silently asking for permission to sit down.
I nod and he sits, looking extremely uncomfortable and cramped in.
“I was waiting for you to contact me but after talking to Ari-el it seems as if you wouldn’t know how to.”
He is huge. And a Reaper Angel? Would I go with him if I were newly dead? Sure. I’d be too afraid to tell him no.
Shrugging, I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and give it to him. “I know how.”
He laughs. “I could sense your unease. You have no reason to worry. We will follow you. You have been chosen, and we have waited for you. Though you’re not what I expected. You’re short.”
“Maybe you’re too tall, Mael.”
“I am exactly as God wanted me to be.”
“As am I.” I click my teeth together a few times, mulling over how he feels about me. “We’re not going to have a problem, are we?”
Mael pulls himself out of the nook and kneels down on one knee. “No, Perrian. We will not. I’m sorry if I have offended you.”
I take a deep breath and move my hand to the counter, just realizing I’ve had my hand on my hip the whole time. “You didn’t. It’s all right. Please stand.”
Fluidly, he stands and then bows at the waist. “On behalf of all the Reaper Angels, we pledge ourselves to you. You have been chosen and we are honored.” He stands. “I shall take my leave now.” He gives me a crooked smile that shows perfect teeth. “Let me or Ari-el know when you are ready.” He turns and walks toward the door.
“Mael? I’m glad that I have been chosen and I vow to…be good. Thank you.”
He bows his head, opens the door and leaves.
That was fun.
After a few minutes of staring at the door, I grab a can of soda, sneak out the back door, and sit on the porch swing. I rock back and forth, sipping my drink, and look up. The night sky is clear and the crescent moon shines brightly. The wind whips by, lifting the bottom of my robe and tossing my hair in my face. I can tell I should be cold but I’m not. The cold bench feels room temperature to me.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Thank you, Father. Thank you, Lilith.” I exhale and relax.
You are welcome, child. The voice sings in the wind. It’s soft and feminine. Always remember, though you are born of light and dark, the light will always shine brighter. You love, and you are loved. Be ready, Perrian. Blessed be.
“Thank you, Lilith,” I say into the wind. “I will be prepared. I already am. Blessed be.”
Smiling, I stand up and walk into the house. I’ve been chosen to be the Angel of Death; the Death Bringer. Never would I have imagined in a gazillion years that would be my calling. Hell, up until a few weeks ago I thought I was a human-demon hybrid, not the offspring of a demon and an angel.
But I am. And it feels more right than anything I’ve ever experienced. God made me this way so who am I to doubt His actions. He says I can do it, so screw anyone who says I can’t. I may be from the Line of Lilith, but I am a child of God, demon blood running through my veins and all. And I am prepared for anything that anyone has to throw at me.
Bring it on, bitches.
Blessed be.