Imp Forsaken (Imp Book 5) by Debra Dunbar Page A

A twinge of guilt speared through him—this was an open wound for her, and he was cruel for bringing it up.
    “No one forced us to write that treaty. No one forced us to continue the war to its inevitable conclusion. We made our choices, and now we must live with them.”
    “Everyone except our illustrious brother. He evidently can violate the treaty and procreate, while others must abide by the choices we made. Nice how he gets to break the rules.”
    “Are you questioning our brother’s motives?” she asked hotly. “He loves her. Do you even remember what that sacred emotion felt like, Gabriel? Is this the sin of jealousy talking or do you really think his interest in the imp is strictly as a vessel for offspring?”
    He couldn’t help a grimace of irritation. Uriel was such an optimist, always a romantic.
    “No, I’m sure he’s head over wings in love. I’ll admit though that this is one of the most difficult effects of the war to reconcile myself to—never being able to create another being.”
    He felt the weight of her stare on him. “Creation. Not love. You missed your chance to pass on your oh-so-impressive angelic traits before the war, and now you regret that there will be no opportunity to do so. That’s the empty spot in your heart?”
    Her words cut to the bone. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t jump if the opportunity to create presented itself,” Gabriel said.
    Uriel lowered her head, picking at a tiny grain of sand as she hid her expression from him. “Yes, but it’s the joining I miss the most. That sense of closeness, when I become more than an angel. It’s the nearest I’ve ever been to divinity.”
    “They’re not angels anymore; they’re demons. Love is off the table, as is joining. You’ll need to find divinity through right order and meditation, just like the rest of us.” He hadn’t meant his words to be so harsh, or his tone so bitter.
    Her entire body tensed, and her head snapped up, eyes flashing. “I’ve seen a lot of miracles in my five billion years. I won’t give up on love, and I won’t give up on creation.”
    Here was where he had to tread oh so carefully. “We may never be able to experience love again, but maybe someday we could manage to find a way around the problem of creation.”
    Uriel shot him a suspicious look. She didn’t seem surprised at the premise, but he couldn’t gauge which way she stood on the issue.
    “I’ve heard rumors that we could see creation again in Aaru.”
    The redhead gave a short bark of laughter. “Such a positive outlook. I hadn’t expected that from you.”
    “Would you, Uriel? I know there will never be a spirit to replace Haka, but would you seek to create again?”
    They sat for a moment, Uriel’s eyes on the humans playing below while Gabriel watched her. Both her lover and her only child had been Angels of Chaos. The war had split families, but Uriel had lost so much more than most.
    “Yes,” she said softly. “I would very much like to create another life. But to do that, we need an Angel of Chaos—a demon. We severed that tie nearly three million years ago. We knowingly committed ourselves to this path. Unless there is a possibility of immaculate conception, proof that the process does not violate all we hold dear, I won’t break my vow.”
    Her voice held two million years of pain. He knew, deep inside, she longed for a different choice, to return to a happier past before the war.
    Gabriel drew a line in the sand with his finger, trying to keep his tone casual. “Then I guess we should pray for immaculate conception.”
    Again they sat in silence while Gabriel allowed his words to sink in.
    “Do you think she is Samael’s offspring?” Uriel asked unexpectedly. “The imp? Our unconventional Iblis?”
    Sharp pain stabbed through Gabriel’s chest. “No.”
    He offered no explanation. He’d fought fiercely with Samael, as only close brothers can, but even with the war that divided them, he refused to