Page 5 of Angel I Am Not

“Let me go!”

His arm locked around my waist when I tried to wrench free. “You can’t follow him.”

“Neither can he!” I fought his hold until Uriel stepped fully toward the altar. Then every bit of resistance drained out of me.

The archangel’s essence billowed around him, boasting of power that didn’t belong in heaven. My tongue darted out to lick my lips, intrigued by the foreign presence even as Uriel’s doom lingered ahead.

Tears gathered in my eyes, my entire body alert when the thunderous crack of lightning and a burst of power that could only be described as God’s anger erupted through heaven the moment Uriel stepped up to the altar and placed a hand on it.

I held my breath, waiting for the inevitable punishment. A few had tried their hand at approaching the altar, but they had never made it, turned around by one of the council, Michael or Jophiel. They were usually banished from a garden or required to do hard labor for a period of time. No one had made it this far. Please, Uriel. Don’t do this…

I didn’t even know what I was pleading for as a sob tore from my throat, a gasp at my side alerting me that I wasn’t the only one watching this unfold. Angels had gathered around us, eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and fear as Uriel’s mouth began moving.

It took me a moment to realize Uriel was praying. The realization only confused me more because there was nothing special about praying here. We could do it anywhere, and if an angel needed a message delivered directly to God, Port existed for that exact reason.

“Why is he doing it there?” I asked, still straining against Miel’s hold.

His arm tightened around my waist. “I don’t know.”

“He could’ve called Port.”

“I know, Ariuk.” Miel sounded almost as unsettled as I felt, his attention fixed on Uriel rather than whatever rule I was currently breaking. If Uriel hadn’t marched all the way here because he needed God to hear him, then whatever he was doing required the altar itself.

His mouth moved faster, the words too quiet for me to catch. Darkness thickened around him before rushing forward and curling over the marble, seductive enough that some traitorous part of me wanted to move closer instead of farther away. My struggle against Miel stopped.

“Do you see that?”

“See what? Uriel disobeying every rule in the book? He’s going to be punished, Ariuk.”

Normally, Miel using my full name would have earned him another argument, but I barely registered it now. Two archangels were already rushing down the hall, white wings flaring behind them as they closed the distance to Uriel. I leaned forward against Miel’s hold, silently urging Uriel to finish whatever the hell he had started before they reached him.

My father figure let out a bloodcurdling scream as he was torn away, the ground beneath us rumbling with God’s anger. My gaze lingered on the altar as it vibrated, a crack racing from the top to the bottom as the rumbling came to an end.

Ariuk

Essence from Heaven wasn’t supposed to be capable of damaging the altar. Whatever had wrapped itself around Uriel hadn’t come from here, and judging by the crack running through the marble, everyone else knew it too.

The archangels dragged him into the backrooms before I could get anywhere near him. The doors shut, swallowing Uriel and leaving the rest of us staring at each other in a silence so complete I could hear Miel breathing behind me. I took one step toward the palace before his hand closed around my wrist.

“Don’t.”

“They have him.”

“I know.”

Then something slammed against the other side of the doors. My whole body jerked toward the sound. Shouting followed, several voices crashing together before Uriel’s rose above them, hoarse enough that I barely recognized him. Listen to me. That was the only piece I caught before another cry tore through the palace and turned my stomach.

“What’s happening?” I cried, pulling against Miel as whispers spread through the angels gathered around us. Nobody seemed to know what was happening behind those doors, but every shout made the crowd press a little closer.

Miel wrapped an arm around my waist when I tried to push forward. “Ariuk, wait.”

“For what?” I twisted against him, my attention locked on the palace. The doors opened before he could answer, silencing the crowd almost immediately.

Jophiel stepped into view with Uriel cradled in his arms, Michael and Gabriel close behind. My father figure hung limp against his chest, his head rolling with every step and one arm dangling uselessly toward the marble.

Jophiel lowered Uriel onto the marble at the foot of the altar, close enough that I could finally see what they had done to him. Crimson soaked through his white linens and streaked one side of his face. One wing was bent awkwardly beneath him, its pale feathers matted dark with blood, while the strange essence that had surrounded him before was completely gone. His hand lay limp against the marble, and for one horrible second, all I could see was the purple flower I had crushed earlier.

It had been so easy to break the stem beneath my foot. Apparently, cutting down an archangel wasn’t much harder. Uriel didn’t move for several awful seconds, and I had already started forgetting how to breathe when his chest finally rose in a shallow, uneven pull of air.