Again and again and again, I’ve been made unconscious against my will. I wake up somewhere unfamiliar to me, unsure how I’d gotten there.
I’m sick of it. Sick of being a pawn in a celestial game, sick of being someone’s toy, sick of not being able to defend myself.
And now, it’s landed me in a prison cell.
Vaguely aware of the old spring mattress that squeaks underneath me, I quickly survey my surroundings. The room is made of white concrete, devoid of windows, with harsh overhead fluorescents. There’s only one solid metal door, a sink, and a toilet.
I don’t remember getting here, but I have no doubt this nightmare is my reality. The last thing I remember is… is…
I touch my face, expecting it to be sticky with blood.
It’s not. It’s miraculously clean. But I still feel like covered in it.
I stagger to the toilet, collapsing on my knees in front of it, and heave bile out of my stomach. Tears begin to slip down my face. My breathing is erratic, uncontrolled, and I’m trembling like a leaf.
By no means am I sad that Michael’s dead. Whether he stays gone for a day or a year, he deserves it. I doubt the ancient fucker has ever died before, and he should know what death feels like by now, considering all the lives he’s taken.
No, I’m justtraumatized.
I keep getting tossed from one awful, unbelievable situation to the next. I can’t catch my breath. I barely survived what I didn’t even realize was a rare, superpowerful angel, and my reward for it was mutilation, anger, and...him.
I heave bile again.
My whole body shakes so violently that I grip the toilet harder in an effort to stay upright. I still don’t know what happened between Abaddon and me. We had sex many times, he said, but I barely remember the first—and even that was a wholly unnatural blur, full of possessive claiming. It was painful, frightening, and mixed with drug-like ecstasy. I can’t even tell if I had my full faculties then, either.
Something tells me that I wouldn’twantto remember it. Not now. Not yet. I’ve never been a masochist; there is no happy way that I woke up so bloody and raw. The details would only make it harder for me to get by. I’m not ready to face them.
A deep, aching cry crawls out of my soul and wracks through my body.
I flush the toilet, lie down on the floor, and let the panic attack consume me. I sob so hard, my thoughts running so fast, they soon become an indecipherable blur. My muscles begin to hurt from how long they jerk and vibrate, but it’s even more painful to keep them still, so I let go. I cry until I’ve completely exhausted myself in every way possible, losing all sense of time in the process.
When the anguish eventually dies into a depressing defeatism, I summon the last of my strength to crawl back to my pathetic mattress. Collapsing on it, I succumb to my bleak reality and an even bleaker fate.
I wake up again to the feeling of someone standing next to me.
My eyes crack open, and I stare at him.
He stands tall, with broad shoulders and a lean build, his wavy hair neatly styled to the side. The charcoal grey suit he wears looks straight out of the 1920s, accented by black raven wings tucked on his back.
“I’m sure you have questions,” Azael starts.
I just stare at him.
“Get up, Kaelene.”
“Kae,” I huff, my voice barely a whisper.
“Surely you’re not upset over Michael’s death. If you were concerned about his well-being, you wouldn’t have done your part so well. You had ample time to warn him.”
My lips downturn, starting to form a scowl. “You used me as bait, you motherfucker.”
“Unfortunately, yes. It was a long shot, but because of your excellent performance, he was distracted enough for me to catch him by surprise.” He slips his hands into his coat pockets. “So I decided to repay the favor by freeing you from your masters.”
He truly thinks he’s freeing me by capturing me for himself.
The hypocrisyis more than infuriating. It makes me want to commitmurder.
I leap out of bed, slashing at his face with my nails. He dodges just in time to avoid the hit, but I’d planned on it. My foot collides with his stomach, knocking him back a step. Fury boils out of me, and I reach into the heavens, desperately grasping for whatever threads of power I can possibly summon?—
