The Grigori Legacy: Sins Of The Lost Part 11

"What didn't she tell me?"

The Fallen One shrugged. "What I just said. You can have it back. The power, the immortality, all of it. It's all still yours."

The carton of milk in the bag gave way with a little pop beneath Seth's grip. Cold liquid bathed his hand and dripped onto his shoe. "I don't believe you."

"Yes, you do." The Fallen One straightened up from the elevator wall as the doors slid open onto the eighth floor's empty hallway. "You can feel it. You know you can. Right where you left it, waiting for you to reclaim it as your own."

"You're wrong. You can't know-"

Seth found himself pinned against the wall before he registered that the other had moved. Fingers like steel clamped around his throat, lifting him until his toes barely grazed the floor.

"I do know," his father's henchman hissed. "Just as your Naphil knows. The Archangel Mika'el himself told her when he came to her asking for her help. Her soulmate has been returned to her, to ensure that she persuades you. The only one who's still in the dark about this is you. You might want to ask your Naphil why that is." His grip tightened another fraction. "She's not like you, Appointed. She is mortal. She cannot love you the way you do her, the way your father loves the One. Already she puts her own kind ahead of her feelings for you. Already she keeps secrets."

The Fallen One shook him and then, as suddenly as he'd attacked, released his grip. Seth dropped to one knee, gasping. His visitor stepped into the corridor.

"Look around you, Seth, son of Lucifer. See where you are, what you've become. What you've chosen to become."

Only when the doors began to slide shut did Seth rise to his feet. He jammed his foot into the opening, gathered the scattered groceries, and, clutching the sodden bag, followed in the Fallen One's wake. The corridor empty before him. His visitor's words echoed in his skull. Tangled in his chest.

"Her soulmate has been returned to her."

Her soulmate. Aramael. Returned.

Seth's gaze dropped to the groceries in his arms and, nestled among them, a plain, leather-bound book with the number one engraved on its spine.

Chapter 25.

"Anything?"

Alex looked up from her notebook as she joined Aramael on the sidewalk. "Do you care?"

His mouth thinned. "It would go faster if you'd let me help."

"No."

"Alex-"

"We've been over this. Twice. You're not a cop."

"No, I'm a b.l.o.o.d.y Archangel," he snapped. "I think I can handle asking a few questions."

Archangel? Her gaze flicked to the ma.s.sive black wings half unfolded behind him. Michael's wings had been black, too, and so had the other Archangels'. That must be what differentiated the choirs, the color of their wings. So. Aramael had not only been welcomed back into Heaven for his part in Seth's attempted a.s.sa.s.sination, he'd been promoted, too. Wasn't that just ducky.

She returned her attention to her notes. "I don't care. You're not trained, you might miss something, and the answer is still no. Feel free to leave if that's a problem."

"Is this how it's going to be between us?" he asked quietly.

Scowling, she ignored the jab of pain beneath her ribs. "There is no us. There's me, and there's you following me." She stepped around him, coming up short as he moved to block her. "You're in my way."

"I didn't ask for this."

"Neither did I."

The sigh stirred her hair. "I know. And for what it's worth, I wish it could be otherwise."

"It can. Leave."

He shook his head. "You're too important."

Her brain shied from all that stood behind the statement. "Fine. Then let someone else protect me."

"I can't do that, either."

"You're hardly the only angel in Heaven."

"None of the others would protect you as I can."

"Michael-"

"Mika'el is the one who a.s.signed me to you. He knows the strength of my connection to you. Knows I would risk everything to keep you safe."

The pain beneath her ribs sharpened, taking away her breath. She clutched the notebook and pen tighter, felt their edges imprinted on her fingers.

"Don't," she snarled. "Don't you dare go there. You made your choice when you went after Seth, Aramael, and I made mine when I saved him. We're done."

"You know that isn't true."

"I. Made. My. Choice." She crossed her arms, settling into outright belligerence. "We're done."

"We're soulmated, Alex. We can never be done."

Even if she could have found her voice, she had no words. No argument. No reb.u.t.tal for the truth her soul recognized even as her mind rejected it. Sudden, infinite weariness pressed down on her. He was right. No matter how much she wanted it otherwise, no matter how certain she might have been-was-in her choice of Seth, Aramael was still right. The bond between them would never go away. She could love another with all her heart-and she did-and still she would feel that tie. That unbreakable connection.

Footsteps sounded along the sidewalk, slowing as they neared. Gritting her teeth, Alex gathered up the few sc.r.a.ps of coherence she still possessed and made herself look away from Aramael's stormy gray gaze . . . right into the hard emerald one belonging to Michael.

"We need to talk," he said.

Chapter 26.

Michael.

Shock ricocheted through Alex's body. Flat-out antagonism followed. Before she could do more than open her mouth, however, Michael cut her off, directing a pointed look at Aramael.

"Leave us," he ordered.

The storm brewing in Aramael's expression seethed with a new level of turbulence, and for a moment, Alex thought he might refuse. Then he stalked across the street to the car and leaned against the front fender, hands shoved into his pockets. His wings, half unfurled, twitched with an irritation echoing her own.

She scowled at the Archangel towering over her. "Are you always this overbearing?"

He ignored her. "Have you reconsidered my request?"

"No. I told you-"

"Fine. I will speak to Seth. But not about this." He jerked his chin toward Aramael. "And I don't want you to mention it, either."

"Excuse me?"

"If Seth knows Aramael has returned, it will skew his judgment. I need him to consider my request with a clear head, not one filled by unnecessary emotion."

"First of all, you don't get to tell me what to do. And second, I don't keep secrets from the man I love." Her emphasis on man was deliberate, a reminder to Michael of Seth's mortality, the choice he had already made. It went unnoticed.

"Have you told him about me?"

"Not yet, but-"

"Then you do keep secrets."

"I haven't had the chance to tell him," she growled.

"The chance or the courage?"

Alex bit back a go to h.e.l.l. No matter how much she detested him and his high-handedness, he was still an Archangel. And he was right.

"Both," she said with quiet dignity. "I'm not going to pretend it will be an easy conversation, Michael. Not after what he's been through. But while I might not be looking forward to it, I will do it. And I will make it clear to him-just as I am to you right now-that I am and always will be on his side. That means no secrets. Not about you, and not about Aramael."

She drew herself up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

Michael's hand caught her arm as she turned away.

"He's will destroy your world, Naphil."

His words made her hesitate, but only for a single heartbeat. Whatever he meant, it didn't matter. Seth had saved her life, had chosen her over himself. She would not-could not-betray his trust. Not for a Heaven that had already betrayed hers. She pulled away from his hold.

"Before or after Lucifer does?" she asked.

Leaving Michael on the sidewalk, she crossed the street to join Aramael by the car. She opened the door and leaned in to rummage through the glove compartment for a spare notebook and pen. She slammed the door shut and rested the notebook on the sedan's roof. Aramael glanced between her and Michael as she jotted down a series of questions.

"May I ask what that was about?"

"No." She slapped the notebook against his chest, holding it there until he raised a hand to take it. "The questions you need to ask are on the first page. Make sure you note the address of everyone you speak to, and keep a list of the houses where no one is home."

"I thought you didn't want my help."

"I changed my mind." She looked across the street to Michael. Met, without flinching, the hard green eyes. Knew he monitored her words. She turned her back on him.

"I want to finish this canva.s.s," she told Aramael, her voice clear and steady, "and then I want to go home. I have things I need to tell Seth."

Chapter 27.

As much as Alex tried to tell herself otherwise, the conversation with Michael had rattled her. Deeply. By the time she finished with the last house backing onto the park, she was footsore, frustrated, and had never been more ready to pack in a canva.s.s. She'd also been unable to stop the Archangel's parting words from replaying in her head with every single step she'd taken.

"He will destroy your world," he'd said-and still she'd walked away. She'd failed to demand an explanation because she'd let her own feelings get in the way. Across the street, Aramael descended from a porch and walked toward her. Her gut twisted into the special knot reserved for him. She scowled. She knew better-was better-than that. And if she was going to get the answers she needed to save even a portion of humanity, this knee-jerk reaction to all things angelic had to stop. Now.

Stepping onto the sidewalk, Aramael handed the notebook to her. She flipped it open. His notes filled the pages in an impatient scrawl. Legible, but only just. She scanned them. At least he appeared to have asked all the questions and kept a list of addresses they'd need to return to.

"What now?" he asked.

"We write up the file in the office, and then we-I-go home."

"To tell Seth about me."

"And Michael. Yes."

"You really care enough about him to risk your own world."

Again with the world thing. She closed the notebook Aramael had given her and slid it into her pocket along with her own. "Explain."

"If he doesn't take back his powers, the imbalance he caused could destroy the entire-" Aramael stopped. "You didn't know."

She shook her head, partly in answer, partly in denial. Tiny crystals of ice formed in her veins, invaded her heart. "There must be some mistake."

Aramael's gaze held hers, the same flat gray as Lake Ontario on a sullen day. "You've seen the news. The increase in earthquakes and storms-"

"That's Seth?"