and wrapped her arms around her legs. How could he defend Michael? Didn’t Sariel realize the living hell her life had become? Endless years of futile searching, continually on the run. Immortality was agony when purpose had been stripped away.
Garbled images assailed her, fragments of lifetimes, various locations and different identities. She remembered them all, and yet could recall the specifics of none.
Sariel bent one leg, resting his forearm across his knee. Dense shadows gave his features a sinister cast. Still, Alyssa was not frightened by his presence in her bed. She had been alone far too long. Despite her frustration with his attitude, she longed for his sheltering arms.
“Gideon.” He prompted in a quiet, conversational tone. “Tell me about Gideon.”
Resting her chin on her knees, she sifted through memories. “Much of it is still jumbled. Michael allowed our own words to determine the specifics of our trials. Gideon’s thirst for blood became literal.”
“I’ve heard of such creatures among the Fallen. How was he redeemed?”
“He didn’t Fall. His angelic nature was compromised, but none of us Fell . We are something in between, not demonic, yet no longer angelic.” She let a smile curve her lips. “Rather like you.”
“But Gideon was not of the Order of Grigori, so how did he father children?” His gaze moved over her face, lingering on her lips. Was he imagining a kiss? Remembering her taste?
“The murals Naomi painted in the church tell the tale. After they vanquished Legion, Gideon was transformed. His bloodlust was lifted and he was made human.” A sharp pang of envy darted through her. Gideon’s trial was over. He was at peace, forever content, while she battled on.
“ Human?” Sariel sounded incredulous. “He willingly gave up his immortality?”
“And spent the rest of his days peacefully with the woman he loved. It was a fair exchange.”
Sariel shook his head, his expression thoughtful. “Where are the others?”
Ruggedly handsome features and flashing ebony eyes flickered to life within her mind. Daniel . What had become of Daniel? Specific events and details stayed just beyond her reach. She released a frustrated sigh. “I’m not sure. You said my memories are being destroyed by lies. What led you to that conclusion?”
“Each of the Rebel Angels was cursed by their own words. You said truth was lost in lies. I believe you are no longer capable of distinguishing truth from falsehood. Each time you say something that is untrue, it becomes fact within your mind, distorting what is real.”
Fiddling with the hem of her nightgown, she silently considered his words. The theory made perfect sense. It was consistent with what she knew of the other punishments. She could finally see a glimmer of light through the mist, yet she had never been more discouraged.
“Rosalind said my identity changes with my mood. I didn’t realize how accurate her assessment was. I cannot tell people what I am, so I become whatever I tell them.” Pressure erupted in her temples. She pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. “How will I ever combat this? If I speak only truth, the villagers will be more convinced than ever that I’m a lunatic. Or a witch!”
Sariel pulled Alyssa onto his lap, cradling her against his chest. He guided her head to his shoulder and held her close. “Now that you’re aware of the problem, you can choose your words with the utmost care.”
Having her in his arms was the sweetest torture he could imagine. She didn’t reply to his assurance but cuddled against him. Her hand slipped inside the opening of his tunic, absently rubbing his chest.
Images flickered through his mind. Female flesh spread before him like a banquet, offered without hesitation to his ravenous appetite. With a smoldering glance he’d made them want him, a few practiced caresses and they’d trembled, desperate for the pleasure they found only in his
Garbled images assailed her, fragments of lifetimes, various locations and different identities. She remembered them all, and yet could recall the specifics of none.
Sariel bent one leg, resting his forearm across his knee. Dense shadows gave his features a sinister cast. Still, Alyssa was not frightened by his presence in her bed. She had been alone far too long. Despite her frustration with his attitude, she longed for his sheltering arms.
“Gideon.” He prompted in a quiet, conversational tone. “Tell me about Gideon.”
Resting her chin on her knees, she sifted through memories. “Much of it is still jumbled. Michael allowed our own words to determine the specifics of our trials. Gideon’s thirst for blood became literal.”
“I’ve heard of such creatures among the Fallen. How was he redeemed?”
“He didn’t Fall. His angelic nature was compromised, but none of us Fell . We are something in between, not demonic, yet no longer angelic.” She let a smile curve her lips. “Rather like you.”
“But Gideon was not of the Order of Grigori, so how did he father children?” His gaze moved over her face, lingering on her lips. Was he imagining a kiss? Remembering her taste?
“The murals Naomi painted in the church tell the tale. After they vanquished Legion, Gideon was transformed. His bloodlust was lifted and he was made human.” A sharp pang of envy darted through her. Gideon’s trial was over. He was at peace, forever content, while she battled on.
“ Human?” Sariel sounded incredulous. “He willingly gave up his immortality?”
“And spent the rest of his days peacefully with the woman he loved. It was a fair exchange.”
Sariel shook his head, his expression thoughtful. “Where are the others?”
Ruggedly handsome features and flashing ebony eyes flickered to life within her mind. Daniel . What had become of Daniel? Specific events and details stayed just beyond her reach. She released a frustrated sigh. “I’m not sure. You said my memories are being destroyed by lies. What led you to that conclusion?”
“Each of the Rebel Angels was cursed by their own words. You said truth was lost in lies. I believe you are no longer capable of distinguishing truth from falsehood. Each time you say something that is untrue, it becomes fact within your mind, distorting what is real.”
Fiddling with the hem of her nightgown, she silently considered his words. The theory made perfect sense. It was consistent with what she knew of the other punishments. She could finally see a glimmer of light through the mist, yet she had never been more discouraged.
“Rosalind said my identity changes with my mood. I didn’t realize how accurate her assessment was. I cannot tell people what I am, so I become whatever I tell them.” Pressure erupted in her temples. She pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. “How will I ever combat this? If I speak only truth, the villagers will be more convinced than ever that I’m a lunatic. Or a witch!”
Sariel pulled Alyssa onto his lap, cradling her against his chest. He guided her head to his shoulder and held her close. “Now that you’re aware of the problem, you can choose your words with the utmost care.”
Having her in his arms was the sweetest torture he could imagine. She didn’t reply to his assurance but cuddled against him. Her hand slipped inside the opening of his tunic, absently rubbing his chest.
Images flickered through his mind. Female flesh spread before him like a banquet, offered without hesitation to his ravenous appetite. With a smoldering glance he’d made them want him, a few practiced caresses and they’d trembled, desperate for the pleasure they found only in his
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