Wicked Nights (Angels of the Dark #1)(68)
Author: Gena Showalter

“Well, here’s what I already know. You were born rather than created. You had a twin brother, but for some reason you won’t explain, you had to kill him.”

He waited for her to continue.

She sighed. “Okay, so you aren’t ready to take my hint and talk about him yet. What else do I know? Oh, yeah. You have a black spot growing on your chest, and it concerns me. You lead an army of angels, and I think you’re just now discovering how much you respect your own men.”

“First, do not be concerned with the spot. Second, what makes you think I respect my men?”

“Nice try. Like I wouldn’t notice you didn’t say the spot was nothing for me to be worried about, only that I wasn’t to be concerned. I’m on to your tricks, buddy.”

“That will not change my response.”

“Anyway. From the day at the institution to the day those three angels found us in New Zealand, your entire demeanor and tone have changed with them. Well, changed slightly. But with you, slight is major.”

Very observant, his Annabelle. “Yes, I do respect my men. When I needed them most, they came through for me. I was told they were unfit for the heavens, that they were too violent, too irreverent to handle their duties, but I no longer believe that is so. They have each suffered in some way, and they have dealt with their pain the only way they know how.” As he had.

“I’m with you. I’ve only met a few of the guys, and granted, they all looked pretty dangerous, but there was something remarkable about them. Something worth fighting for.”

He liked that she defended those under his charge. “What else do you know about me?”

“Only one other thing. That you’re friends with a group of demon-possessed warriors.”

“And you want to know more?” He weighed everything she’d said she knew about him against everything she’d hinted that she wanted to know. “What do you want to know first? The difference between the born and created angels, or how my association with the demon possessed came to be?”

Another sigh left her, this one warm and sweet and ripe with understanding. She understood that he had struck his brother completely from the conversation, yet she didn’t push. “The difference between the born and the created, please.”

He should not share his secrets. And to willingly, happily do so when so much danger surrounded them? Even worse. But he wanted to share all that he was, so that in turn, she would share all that she was.

Haidee’s earlier words suddenly played through his mind. Your woman needs to be one of the most important things in your life. Above your job, definitely. Her brother turned his back on her, and her boyfriend dumped her. She hasn’t experienced unconditional love in so long, you’ll crush her if you keep her without committing to her.

As he’d told Haidee, he was committed. He just wasn’t sure how to show Annabelle how important she was to him. He had to place his army first. He had to place his duty first.

“Uh, Zachie?”

How bad was it that he’d even grown to like the shortened version of his name, as long as it sprang from this woman’s lips? “The born are only part of the Deity’s troops and must be protected the first decade of their lives,” he said. “They are weak, and must be taught to eat, to walk, to fly.”

“Look at me, Zacharel! Look how high I’m flying!”

“You’re doing so well, Hadrenial. I’m proud of you.”

“Like humans,” Annabelle said, “minus the flying, of course.”

“Yes.” He toyed with a lock of her hair. “The created were strong from the moment they first blinked open their eyes, but they never quite learned to understand the humans they were meant to safeguard. But that is why both the born and the created are useful. They excel in different areas, one picking up the other’s slack.”

“Who created them?”

“The Most High.”

Despite his status, Zacharel had never come to understand or sympathize with the humans. He had grown out of his weakness, but the humans had never seemed to do so. They had reminded him of grains of sand—there, but easily lost in the masses and forgotten.

What about the human in your arms? She is not weak, and you will never forget her.

No, she wasn’t, and no, he wouldn’t.

The warmth of her breath caressed his chest. “I’m trying to imagine little Zacharel. Were you allowed to play games as a child?”

“No. Hadrenial and I had duties, even then. When we weren’t training, we acted as messengers and scouts, and sometimes even served as escorts for human spirits to their eternal home.”

Hadrenial had hated that part of their life.

“Look how her loved ones cry over her loss. I can’t bear to see so much pain.”

“They will see each other again. One day.”

“Will they? What if one goes to heaven, and the other to hell?”

“We will not be to blame. They will.”

“Surely there’s something we can do to help them, to make sure.”

Zacharel had wanted to take over the duty of escorting the spirits completely, but he hadn’t allowed himself to do so. He’d hoped his brother would eventually become desensitized to it, that he would no longer feel the tenderness that had shadowed every aspect of his life.

He was wrong.

“I’m so sorry,” Annabelle said, drawing him back to the present.

He tensed, afraid he had accidentally spoken the long-ago conversation aloud. “Why?”

“You were deprived. Every child, even an angel warrior-in-training, deserves to relax and have fun.” A warm chuckle left her. “My brother and I used to play hide-and-seek in the house, and one time I hid a little too well. He looked for me for over an hour, and ultimately I fell asleep. He asked my parents for help, and the way they tell it, they tore the house up searching for me. When they couldn’t find me, either, they called the cops, thinking I’d been kidnapped.”

The joy in her voice… I want to make her feel that way. “Where were you?”

“In the dryer, snuggled up with the still-warm towels.” Another chuckle, sparkling like champagne. “Maybe one day you and I can play. We’ll—” She stopped, just stopped.

Assuming something was wrong, Zacharel held out his hand, preparing to summon his sword of fire while at the same time scanning the room. No demon jumped from the shadows or misted through the walls, and he relaxed.