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I WOULD’VE EXPECTED this torturous imprisonment from Hell but from Heaven’s saviors? Fuck, I guess I should have. At least when Kase and Dante kept me under watch, they weren’t mean about it. More annoying than anything. The holy light Cassius lit up the studio apartment with hums from the walls and ceiling. It buzzes over my skin, and I’ve shocked myself several times already trying to peek out the window.
It takes a good amount of my nerves to try the door again. I knew better than to try to walk out, but my stubbornness insisted that I had to at least attempt it once. Now blisters decorate my palm and fingers, the pain enough to make me hesitate.
Grabbing one of the blankets from the floor, I wrap it around my hand protectively. I stand a foot away from the rickety door, wishing I wasn’t intimidated by the damn thing. The worn and weathered wood should be easy enough to kick down. I’m not even sure the lock works with the rust coating the door handle. The angels obviously don’t need to use it to leave this place as they just vanished in their eye-stinging light.
“Just do it,” I mutter to myself. “You’ve been hurt worse. It will be worse if you don’t get out of here.”
I grind my teeth and lace my covered fingers over the door handle. A burst of light knocks me off my feet, blinding me. I flutter my eyelids, trying to stop the stars from dancing in my vision. The spot where the blanket covered my hand now has a burning hole in it. I groan and shake my hand, jogging across the room to the small kitchenette. Flipping on the cold tap, I try to ease the burning pain with water. It helps a bit but not much. I think it’s Lucian’s mark setting off the room, trapping me. It doesn’t matter which hand I use—fuck, any part of me for that matter—this angelic cage of an apartment isn’t letting me out any time soon.
“You guys are assholes!” I shout, staring at the new blisters already forming. “If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve assumed you were the devils and Kase and Dante were angels. They are far nicer, more caring, and they know how to treat a mortal. They went out of their way to make sure I had food to eat and clean clothes. Dante would even draw me a bath. Do you angels do that kind of thing or are you only here for the smiting? I want to speak to the Higher Power.”
I know it won’t get me anywhere, but I feel a bit better complaining. There has to be some sort of angel hierarchy, right? I know Kase and Dante said that the saviors ensured that mortals messed up and wrote things how they wanted, but they seem like they’d be the bragging type.
“God, can you hear me? Can’t you do something about this?” I unplug the microwave and shove it onto the floor, smashing it. “What do I have to do to call on someone who can figure this out? Gabriel? Michael? Are you guys real?”
That’s basically the extent of my angelic knowledge.
So instead of shouting some more, I start destroying what little the brethren have here. They live with the bare minimum, but I’m sure they can’t go completely without on the mortal plane. I mean, Kash and Dante don’t eat, but they shower and groom. They sleep. Feel pain. They even go through more laundry than I do. With the blankets on the floor, I know they at least want something to bring them comfort.
I stride from the kitchen and start scooping up the blankets. I have no idea what I’m going to do yet, but it has to be something enough to get their attention. I could light them on fire on the stovetop and risk sending myself to Hell or I can do something a bit more disgusting in the bathroom. Desperate times.
“Little hellion, what are you doing?” Andre materializes in front of me, blocking my path to the small bathroom with a standing shower, toilet, and sink.
I startle and step back, dropping the blankets to the floor. “Where did you come from? I didn’t see your light.”
Rocking on his heels, he peers around the small studio. “I’m on first watch and never left.”
“You’re a fucking creep. Why are angels so creepy? Micah watched me through the windows of Kase and Dante’s apartment, but this is worse. I at least knew he was around.” I hug my arms around me and wince at the pain of pressing my palms against the crooks of my elbows.
Andre’s gaze travels from my face and to the rest of me, recognizing the pain that shudders through me. I don’t get a chance to argue or brace myself before he snatches my wrist and tugs my hand to him. He tilts his head, inspecting the blisters with a frown.
“This looks like it hurts,” he says softly, twisting his lips to the side. “It shouldn’t have blistered your skin so intensely.”
“You’re lying. It’s all part of your twisted plan to keep me here until I die.” I jerk my hand away from him and flick my gaze to the floor, not wanting him to see how badly it hurts. If I could break down and cry, I would. I’ve never been burned like this and it’s awful. It freaks me out, too. What if this is my eternity?
Andre doesn’t respond and instead snatches my arm back to him. An embarrassing whimper escapes my mouth, my panic getting the best of me. He locks his fingers around my fingers and pries them open. With his free hand, he presses his palm to mine, causing more searing agony. I scream out, unable to control my reaction. Light glows between our hands, and I can’t keep my legs working. But Andre doesn’t let me go. He follows me to the floor and continues to bathe my hand in his holy light.
The pain vanishes with his power, and I half-expect my hand to be burned off and without pain due to the damage. Instead, Andre releases my fingers and reveals my healed hand apart from Lucian’s mark.
“Better? I can’t do anything about the brand, but I can summon the light back to me.” Andre reaches for my other hand and hesitates, staring at the healed mark touching Micah’s wings left behind. Flexing his muscles, he composes himself, turning expressionless. He doesn’t ask me about it either. “Let me fix up your other hand now. It’ll feel better.”
I bob my head in agreement, wanting nothing more than for him to take the agony of the burns away. Tingles swallow my hand as he presses our palms together again, and I lock my gaze to his, wondering why he’s helping me.
So I ask. “Why are you doing this? I’m assuming you weren’t supposed to reveal you were creeping around here, right?”
He sighs and shrugs without response, focusing on siphoning the heavenly light from my skin. “Cassius thinks it’ll be pointless, but I wanted you to know that I do hear you and you should know you’re not alone.”
“What exactly do you expect from all this? Cassius was right. This is pointless. You being here and listening to me does jack-shit. It doesn’t make this better. If anything, it makes it that much worse. You know exactly what bullshit you’re up to. Just being here pisses me off. The only thing that will make this even remotely better is if you let me go or you leave. And not just vanish from my sight.” I tug away from him and lay down. I can’t storm off, so I turn my back away from him instead.
Andre has the nerve to move and sit down in front of me. “I’m sorry, Raven. I truly am. The last thing I want is to see you descend into the depths of Hell, but you made an unbreakable deal with Lucifer. It is in the universe’s best interest not to see exactly what Lucifer intends to do with a soul like yours. Did the devils tell you why you were targeted? Maybe Cassius will be able to use the information and—”
I glower and flip over, anger bursting through me. “Fuck off, feather-head. You’re naïve to think I’m going to tell you anything. You don’t care about me.”
Once again, Andre moves, sitting in front of me. “That’s where you’re wrong. I care about all mortal souls. It hurts me deeply knowing your fate. It helps me understand why Micah hasn’t completed his mission yet. Your soul is...indescribable.”
“Well, apparently I’ve been angel-kissed or something. I don’t really know. It seems kind of weird to think about I was making out with angels or some shit. You guys are assholes.” I hate that I continue my conversation, but I can’t help it. Andre feels so open. He seems like he would answer any question I ask.
“Not exactly kissing,” Andre says, lying down beside me. He keeps his body propped on his elbow, but it doesn’t make him look guarded. If anything, he appears more relaxed. Open. Fucking hot. “An angel loved you enough that its essence merged with yours. It’s why your soul shines so brightly. It could’ve been romantic or platonic. I wouldn’t know. Either way, you don’t deserve to lose to Hell after receiving such a gift.”
