Jude; The Fallen (The Fallen Series, Book 2) (12 page)

The pain had no point of origin or precise point of entry, it merely was. His body flattened against the tree, pressing to crumple at the base of the trunk in an ungainly heap. The canopy of branches blocked out the slivers of moonlight, coating him in darkness. Jude’s head lolled back as he fought to regain focus. His brain clamored to make sense of it all, to process and deal with it, but it swirled through him like a vortex, ripping the void wider. Everything rolled over him like fire in the desert, sweeping and devastating.

Memory warred with clarity in his mind’s eye, and the gardens before him rippled and disappeared, leaving behind vast dunes of sand. They undulated across the desert, peaks and valleys, until the city came into view. The scent of sand and blood knocked him in the gut, the smell so powerful his throat clogged with the urge to gag.

The angels rampaged. They charged forth against the will of God, brazen in their disobedience, righteous in their fury. Golden wings spread out into the harsh rays of the sun, a shining, glorious wall of destruction. The blade in his hand shimmered, still golden underneath the stain of blood as he made his way through the city, bodies falling in his wake. The injured writhed in the streets and he stepped past, leaving the finishing blows to Mordecai and Elijah. Justice and Mercy. They would put it right. He was Vengeance. And he was here to deliver.

His sword arm ached with the force of each blow, each strike calculated to inflict as much pain as possible. He continued, hacking and slicing in his terrible rage, leaving no part of the city unturned, sparing neither age nor gender. Neither the innocent nor the guilty.

Dying fingers clutched at him as he passed, and he shrugged them off, swinging his sword with a terrifying grace. Blood flowed in the streets like a river, and he waded through it without a second thought. His heart swelled with pride at the crimson flood and the anguish in the air. It coated his tongue like honey, sweet and decadent, and he gave in to the feeling of pleasure. This was his purpose-- pain and death. This was his moment, his glory. This was what sustained him. Fulfilled him. Nothing else. Nothing. There was no room for anything but pain. It blossomed out from his chest and swallowed him whole. The sword clattered to the ground and he sank to his knees with open arms in supplication and let the pain take him.

“No!” Jude shouted, jerking up from the tree with a start. His breathing came in short, ragged wheezes,and he snorted twice to get himself under control. He closed his eyes at this past version of himself, wanting to deny the memory to his last breath. But there was no mistaking his vengeance. Or his sin. A soft breeze blew through, shaking the branches of the oak tree with a light rustle. He thought of Coriander, asleep and so beautiful, and began to cry.

“For whom do you weep, angel? Have I not given you respite enough for your pain?”

Jude’s breath caught in his throat.
It couldn’t be. Not now. Not after—

“After you found a moment’s peace within her arms?” The Voice said. “You knew your purpose long ago. Perhaps this is hers.”

His heart hammered against his ribcage as his eyes searched the darkness. Nothing. The dried blood on his fingers was gritty as he swiped at the moisture on his cheeks. He couldn’t dare to speak. Could he?

“You once found solace in Me, Jude.” The Voice entreated.

“I—I tried, but You were gone,” Jude stammered. His voice broke on a choked whisper. “Gone.”

“Never too far. I have always watched over you. As I watch over all My children.”

A gentle touch on his heart washed over him. A sensation he thought long dead. He closed his eyes, his heart heavy with regret and sorrow. Jude reached for anger and rage, emotions comfortable in their familiarity.

“Your anger is My tool. Your rage is My voice. And even when you thought Me gone, I nurtured those feelings within you. You will need them for the coming days.”

His head thrashed from side to side as sudden, hot tears streamed down his face. “I should be angry,” Jude snapped. “By all rights, I should be so fucking angry!” he shouted, kicking at the grass in front of him. His head shot up to the darkness, the tendons in his neck straining as he yelled,
“I am angry!”

“Be still,” The Voice said. “You may have your ire. It is in your nature. When I created you, I blessed you with all the things you would need to serve Me. Every breath you draw has purpose. Every emotion you feel has purpose. Every wound you deliver has purpose.”

Jude sagged back against the tree, and pressed the heels of his palms over his eyes to stem the flow of tears as he whispered, “Then why I do I feel so lost?”

“You bear great responsibility on shoulders that already burn. There is still much to do before your path is clear. Everything you need has been laid before you. Avail yourself of My blessings and fulfill your redemption.” Jude felt a rumble in his chest as the pain eased from searing to a dull ache. “You will be tested. You may succeed, and you may fail. Remember, angel, all ways in the end return to Me.”

“How will I know what is right? I don’t think I’ve made a good decision in the last thousand years.” Jude blew out a breath as another breeze rippled through the tree. “How can I know which way to go? There is nothing for me but darkness.”

The Voice was gentle and calming. “She has found you. And she will light your way. Trust in her as you once trusted in Me. Protect the light. Drive out the dark.”

Jude closed his eyes and drew his knees up to his chest. This felt too easy. It couldn’t be this simple. He couldn’t sit back and let go of the anger, opening himself like that. His wounds were too deep, too ragged. Still as fresh as the day he fell. And now he was supposed to trust. He’d done that before, and look what happened.

“You were right to follow him,” The Voice confirmed. “His choice was poor, but his heart was genuine. Loyalty to Lucius is loyalty to Me.”

“I have always been loyal to Lucius,” he said through gritted teeth. “Even when it was the wrong decision. I will always be loyal to Lucius.” He shook his head. “I don’t know about anyone else.”

“Faith, My child. I am with you. Always.”

The slight breeze was gone, leaving the stillness of the night. He was gone.

The ache in his heart spread out through his body, leaving a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. He licked dry lips and unfurled himself from the base of the tree into a stand, bracing one hand on the trunk for support. His body felt heavy, as if the weight of his soul rested on his shoulders. He waited for the joy at the Almighty’s presence to surface. Joy he had been waiting for over lifetimes. Joy he was certain would come. Joy he
needed
to come. There was a measure of relief, of that there was no doubt, but as for anything more, well, that remained to be seen. He was told to have faith.

Faith. Jude snorted and shook his head. No, he needed more than tender mercies. What was one cryptic conversation in thousands of years? One tap on the shoulder after lifetimes of begging for acknowledgement. He was supposed to be happy with that? No. Not going to happen.

Jude followed the path back to the house and felt the air ripple around him as he moved. As he shed his clothes and slipped back into bed with a sleeping Coriander, he realized his moonlight confessional made one thing clear. He was still Vengeance. And he would never be appeased.

Chapter Six

Ashtiru’s laughter was almost as brilliant as the sky the next morning. Princess paddled around the swimming pool with her as Alex paced alongside. Jude watched it all through half-lidded eyes and groaned inwardly. She had coaxed him to come outside, that little spark of Coriander had burst into the bedroom and announced she was going swimming. Body-wide, his muscles ached, still a screaming piece of evidence of what had happened last night. Ash giggled, then gave a watery cough as Alex passed beneath the shade of a tree. Jude’s eyes widened as the head of a jackal stared at him for moment before he blinked and Alex was squinting at him.

“You okay?” Jude asked. Alex grunted before he turned and grinned, a flash of white, at Ashtiru. That was when Coriander came outside in the white bikini. The spandex left little to the imagination. Jude knew Alex was staring at her as hard as he was. Beyond the general urge to bitch-slap him into say, next week, Jude’s brain had shut down and his dick had officially taken over.
Against her pale skin, bruises flashed on the curve of her hips. She bent to scoop up Ashtiru and spin her around. Those bruises were his trophies. Alex’s head snapped up as Jude reddened. It was time to cool off. So Jude did the only thing natural that would quickly cool him and hide his obvious erection. Jude rolled off the lounge chair and took a running dive into the pool. The water was colder than he expected.

He tried to get his feet underneath himself, but instead opened his eyes as he sank toward the bottom, his lungs burning for air.
His mouth opened to scream, water pouring in as the air left. Spots of black flashed in front of his eyes. The last thing Jude felt was the touch of cool slate beneath his body. His mind kept up the struggle to live, to find air.

He had almost forgotten that sound. It was bliss to his body, which burned.
It was the sound of home, of Heaven. Warm, soft lips pressed against his and Jude reached with a hand, locked it into a tangle of silky, warm curls as he deepened the kiss. No pain, no fear greeted him in that kiss. However, a sharp pain erupted in his ribcage.

Jude rolled onto his side, water spilling from his lungs as he heard Khemrhy’s voice snap, “You idiot! Why don’t you pigeons learn? You can’t swim. What possessed you to do that?”

Jude became aware of Khemrhy, soaking wet, dripping in a white sari next to him. He choked and struggled for breath.
Khemrhy made an exasperated noise and kicked him in the abdomen. Water whooshed out of him and Jude inhaled deeply. He could hear the little girl crying. Fuck. Coriander was crying too. Double fuck. From his position on the ground, Khemrhy turned to Coriander and in a burst of steam was completely dry. She gently cradled Coriander’s head on her shoulder and made soothing noises. “It’s alright, my little girl. He’ll live. Let Ashtiru see so she’ll calm down.”

Coriander set down the sobbing little girl and urged her toward the big angel.
Jude sat up and tensed as he stared into those smoky green eyes. She sobbed,then sniffled, “Are you okay, Mr. Jude?” He nodded, afraid to scare the toddler away. Khemrhy might kill him or throw him back into the pool. Ashtiru reached out with a tiny brown hand and patted his cheek. The burn was subtle and developed into a dull ache in his bones. Ashtiru smiled a huge fox grin full of rainbows and sunshine. “He’s okay, Mommy! You want to borrow my floaties, Mr. Jude? I have some pink ones you can use.”

Jude’s eyes bugged out as he spluttered, “No-no thanks, kiddo. I think I’ll stay in the shallow end of the pool from now on.” She kissed his cheek and ran back over to Khemrhy who picked her up to cradle her close. Her golden eyes flashed as Ashtiru said, “Grammy, will you come swimming with me and Princess?”

“Of course, my sweetling. Grammy will come after she’s had a chance to change and deliver Mr. Winston’s peony seeds to him.” The girl clapped and Khemrhy set her down. She looked at Jude with a mild distaste. “Let’s get you inside. Alex, come fetch him off his tail feathers and get him inside to fluff back out. Idiot.” With that, her sandalled feet strode past him to the back doors.
Khemrhy was Coriander’s mother.
Lucius would need to know that, amongst other things about the ex-goddess.

Lucius flinched as the door was flung wide. Instinctively, his wings flared, knocking into a display of pottery as Jude’s voice bellowed, “Khemrhy’s Coriander’s mother, and I kissed her!”

The big angel’s heavy, raspy breathing was punctuated by the clinking of pottery shards on the tile floor.

Lucius gaped and spluttered at Jude, “Khemrhy what?”

Jude was a wide-eyes dripping mess. His arms twitched and he took a watery breath to repeat himself. "She’s her fucking mother! And if Cori is Seph’s sister-“

Lucius held up a hand. “Why are you wet?”

As Jude started to answer, a gleaming perfection in while sailed in through the doorway. Lucius could feel heat rise in his cheeks as Khemrhy padded by in a white bikini that left little to the imagination, her cover-up draped artfully over one arm. Her curves were on display in a bright, mouth-watering scrap of spandex. Jude’s head turned and caught a glimpse as she smiled, her full lips in a merlot up-turn as she hugged Persephone.