Page 12 of Angel I Am Not

“Not here. Not in heaven,” Jophiel agreed.

My eyes widened at the mere thought that Uriel’s fatherly love had been an entire lie. I had been created to help him get a chance at God’s seat and he had failed? Oh that motherfucking, cocksucking, son of a-

“Ariuk, your soul is with the Devil,” They stated in unison.

I cried out at the sheer pain of knowing what my life would become. A soul was my very essence, the very crux of my being. Without it, I was nothing. “He sold my fucking soul to the Devil?” I screamed, shooting up out of my chair, wondering where that confident dark entity had run off to. How dare it leave me to deal with my own emotions.

A firm hand forced me back down, Jophiel gripping my chin forcefully to meet his darkening hazel eyes. “Behave yourself.”

“No!” I spit at him, “You just told me the one thing I can’t repent for. My soul?” Tears streamed down my face, “That’s my everything.”

And the Devil himself was holding it. No wonder everyone thought I was so fucking evil.

Did they know or did they just assume? Was this why my wings were turning black? Was it why I enjoyed the debauchery and chaos of human folly over the divine gardens?

“Ariuk, we’ve tried bargaining, but he doesn’t like broken deals.”

“What does that mean?”

All three archangels stood up, their pearly white wings beating in unison three times before settling. Moments later, silence filled the room, a chill running across my skin.

“It means, you can’t stay here. Your place in heaven has been revoked. Ariuk, you and your soul belong to the Devil.”

Ariuk

I could hardly function. How could I? My soul had been bartered by the one person I thought had cared about me. I was led from the palace and straight to Earth, arriving in a small coffee shop, the shame of what had occurred seeping into my conscience. Raphael slid in beside me, watching me shift nervously on the booth seat, his soft eyes focusing on my sorry form.

“Darling,” he murmured, holding out a hand for me to take. “I should have been there.”

I stared at him. “Would it have changed anything?”

His mouth tightened before he looked away. “I don’t know. But you shouldn’t have faced them alone.”

Of all the archangels, Raphael had been the only one to apologize. He was the only one who hadn’t immediately looked down his nose at my transgressions or condemned me for acting out.

Even in this small café, clothed in a set of human clothes—a thick teal sweater and khaki dress pants that brought out the hazel of his eyes—he was warmer than anyone else in Heaven. Sighing, I grabbed his hand and pulled myself a little closer to him. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I confessed. I had been given a basic sundress that clashed with my dark skin, dulling my silver eyes. The mysterious dark entity wrapped around me hadn’t given me another boost of confidence but I could feel it, almost as if it was trying to tangle with my own essence. It brought a seductive warmth that I wanted to lean into but seemed wrong.

“We usually leave the plans to God, sweet one. This isn’t a pleasurable experience and Uriel had no right using you as a bargaining chip. However, I still believe that you will thrive in this position and make it back to us.”

His words were sweet but I didn’t believe them. Jophiel had been adamant that my place was no longer in Heaven and should I retrieve my soul, I would have to earn my place back. Even if the council was right and my soul really was in the Devil’s hands, I was still an angel. I had to be.

Raphael squeezed my hand, soothing my anxiety a little. “Breathe, Ari. Let me do the talking, alright?”

My heart warmed at the fact that he used my nickname; he was one of only two people to ever do so. And the other one had been Uriel. I leaned back against the booth cushion, knowing full well that having Raphael speak for me in the human realm would be a disaster. I was pretty sure he had never been down here before. He was sitting so ramrod straight I was sure he had a stick up his ass.

“You know the humans can’t tell you’re an archangel, right?”

Raphael glanced around the café. “That does not mean I should behave improperly.”

“You’re sitting in a booth.”

“Exactly.”

If the situation wasn’t so devastating, I would have laughed.

My gaze traveled across the colorful walls while I listened to the odd music being played with an array of instruments that didn’t seem like they went together. I looked over at the clock above the register, the hour hand striking 5 pm. The sun had started to set, dusk spilling into the café and adding to the ambiance. For a moment, I thought that maybe this was all a hoax to just kick me out of Heaven, thoughts of the human realm and the times I had spent down here ringing through my head.

Instances at the club had delved into erotic madness. For years, I thought that Miel and all the other angels had been onto something. We were superior in every way to the other creatures in existence—the humans and the demons in Hell. Our rules and morals were better. Life in Heaven was what everyone attained for. But months of slipping down to Earth showed me a different picture. The men loved. The women were free. And while the silver tone of my eyes was a talking point, I had never been used to getting ahead in the hierarchy of someone else’s life.