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Feelings of wrath surged to the surface as he demanded Mara’s location, but Abbie refused to give her up. His shadows lashed at her, pinning her arms to the side, but Jezzie’s cool touch on his arm reined them back in.
“Chill, Dad. You catch more bees with honey. What’s going on, Abbie? What do you owe her? What hold does she have on you? You know she’s hurt so many. She hurt Roth so bad. Athon too. Your brothers in arms. Why would you protect someone like that?” Anger and confusion threaded through Jezzie’s voice.
Abbie stayed silent.
“I can taste your fear, your anger, and your pain. I can taste the betrayal and the love, and I can see the light and dark swirling inside you like a giant tornado about to rip you apart. Save yourself, Abbie. Before it’s too late.”
Abbie spoke.
“My life. I owe her my life and my sanity. And I owe her nothing less.”
Luc could see the anger radiating off of Roth, he was beyond pissed. He struggled to believe it, it was a betrayal worse than a knife to the heart that one of his own would help someone like that.
“You were one of us. We . . . I trusted you. How could you betray us thus?” he growled, shaking with pure rage.
Deus, get your ass here. We have a problem. Abbie’s been working with Mara. Get her out of my sight. Put her in the cells and call Ramiel. She can wait there for the arrival of the Praesidium and face their judgment, he called over the link. He was getting too old for this shit.
As Deus led Abbie away, Jezzie looked up and sighed. “So, I guess now’s not the best time to tell you we’re getting married, huh?”
From highs to lows and back again. What a fucking day.
Anxiety gripped her chest, heart beating like a drum.
Louder, louder.
Shut up! Her brain screamed, silently and unheard.
Her breaths came quickly and harshly. Her stomach in knots as her chest heaved. The taste of acid-like vomit on the back of her tongue.
How? How had it come to this? Censored thoughts and bottled emotions. All she’d wanted was an ear to listen, empathy, and understanding. Arms to hold her, lips to reassure her.
Why must frustration, anger, and guilt be the cage in which her mind was trapped? Why must she remain so broken? So alone when she had no more reason to be lonely?
But deep inside she knew the answer. The how and the why. Trapped again. How was she to know she’d traded one prison for another all those years ago? When for her savior she’d turned her friends to foes. At least before Mara she hadn’t known what a friend was, if only that were still so.
Abbie slumped her head and resigned herself to whatever fate awaited her. She certainly deserved it, she thought.
Chapter 52
December passed in a whirlwind of activity. The fortress was abuzz with the news of a wedding and Jezzie and Nithe were introduced as Roth and Athon’s mates. Excitement had taken on a life of its own at the news that angels could have fated and bonded mates.
Christmas came and went, and as the decorations started to come down the wedding preparations began in earnest. The morning of New Year’s Eve dawned with a beautiful glow and Jezzie almost felt sick to her stomach. In fact she was, several times. She wasn’t scared, more like too excited. The butterflies in her stomach were running out of room for all their fluttering.
Ramiel had arrived a week ago to spend Christmas with them, and while his relationship with Nithe was still formal, and occasionally frosty, the two had made peace with the fact they had both been manipulated, lied to, and betrayed. Esidriel now sat in the cell furthest from Raum, but equally as unpleasant. He was staying for the wedding having said there was not a snowball’s chance in Nestradia he’d miss his only child’s bonding ceremony. Especially since he’d missed everything else.
The fallout from Abbie’s betrayal still rippled through the fortress like an atom bomb, lingering long after the initial explosion. Angels looked at each other with suspicion where before there had been none. It was disconcerting and Jezzie felt the unease crawling under her skin. Probably another reason she felt so sick lately. The side effects of twitchy, negative emotions coupled with the deception of Abbie tasted like pickles in wine. Really bad wine. Ramiel was set to escort the traitor to Praesidium HQ after the wedding festivities were completed. It didn’t help that Ramiel, Deus, and Marco had confided that another traitor still lurked in their midst.
Ramiel had mentioned multiple times he’d like Jezzie to use her gifts on Raum, in a controlled setting of course. Her mates and father had protested, but her palms and shadows literally itched to get into his head and pull the answers from him in a gooey, mushy, messy way. So she had let him know she was open to it . . . after the wedding.
On a happier note Lily had slowly come around and the two of them were now quite friendly. It could have been the old man socks and the ‘father of two’ photo frame she’d gifted Lucifer for Christmas that’d done the trick, but Jezzie preferred to think it was her winning personality.
Dante had been acting all twitchy and on edge since he’d opened his gift from her father for Christmas. All that was in it was a note which said ‘Retribution will be as sweet as blue cotton candy’ and a voucher for The Sweet Place Candy Shop. Athon and Roth had joyfully explained the Hades hair incident and Deus had retold a few more of Dante’s past escapades, all of which led to a rollicking good time filled with laughter and joy.
Jezzie slowly started to feel at home. Still, she couldn’t wait to wrap her arms around her aunt and have Tana by her side. She wished her whole family could share this day with her. She still had her mirror, so she hoped that if she set it up just right her uncle might just be able to watch from afar. He had handed her a gorgeous veil when she’d visited the day before. He and Tana had both wanted her to wear it as her something borrowed. It had been worn by Tana’s mother at her binding ceremony to Uncle Micah. Leraie had saved it and brought it to him not long after he’d first arrived in Nestradia.
“Up and at ‘em, missy,” Mrs B chimed as she swept into the room with a trolley piled high with food and a long gown trailing behind her from the hanger in her hand.
Jezzie laughed. “Mrs B, if you expect me to eat all that you’re going to need a bigger dress for me to wear.”
