Personal Demons 2 - Original Sin (21 page)

She stiffens in my arms and shakes her head. “No, not Luc. You need to understand that I live on lust. I can't survive without it.” She peels herself away from me, and I feel my arms clutching tighter, afraid she'll get away. Her green eyes flare as she gazes up into mine and traces my lips with her finger. “But mortal lust can't compare with yours. I could live forever on the lust of my angel.”

A singular thought consumes me:
She's mine.
They can't have her. Her lips find mine, setting me on fire. I burn for her, all need and desire. She pulls me deeper into the kiss, and electric bliss surges through me like a bolt of hot lightning. Then my head starts to spin as the material world, including Lili, falls away. I screw my eyes shut against the sickening rush and feel as though I'm being ripped through time.

When the sensation finally stops and I open my eyes, I'm unsure where I am. It's no place I've ever been before. Flickering indigo light filters through what looks like the opening of a cave, but this cave, the one I'm in, is like nothing I've ever seen. The walls sparkle, sort of, but it's like a reverse sparkle. Instead of reflecting back little bits of light, they seem to devour it just as it tries to escape. The floor is glossy black, but feels soft under my feet, like if I move too quickly, I would sink into it. I turn slowly, looking for any clue to where I am.

And then I smell the sulfur—brimstone.

Frannie

I nearly hit three parked cars on my way out of Luc's parking lot when I saw him running after me. I raced out of there as fast as the Mustang would take me. Ignoring my parents, I bolted through the family room and locked my bedroom door behind me when I got home. They've been knocking off and on for the last half hour, twice to tell me Luc was here, but I can't deal with them—or him—right now. I have to think.

I put on my headphones, click on my iPod to block them out, and curl up on my bed, trying to make sense of any of this. The image of Luc with Lili plays on a loop in my head. I see it over and over, and each time, it feels like a little more of me dies.

He cheated on me.
I thought that couldn't happen. As long as I wanted him, he was supposed to want me back. That was what this stupid Sway thing was all about. It basically made me irresistible.

But my Sway is nothing. I know that now.

I close my eyes and press my face into the pillow. When I feel a hand in my hair, I'm not surprised. I knew it would only be a matter of time before Kate or someone picked my lock. But when I smell cool winter sunshine, my breath catches.

I sit up and fling myself into Gabe's arms.

“I'm sorry, Frannie. I should have been here.”

His breath in my hair, the feel of his arms…
God, I've missed him.

“You should have,” I say, and pull him tighter.

“This is my fault.”

I push back and look into those incredible, sad eyes. And despite his summer snow and the calm it brings, anger flares in me. “Unless I'm mistaken and you were the one in bed with Lili, I can't see how this is your fault.”

“As much as I hate to say it, this isn't on Luc. He didn't know what he was doing.”

The hard ball of anger and betrayal in my chest threatens to dissolve into tears, but I won't let myself cry. “Don't defend him. He doesn't deserve it.”

“You're right, he doesn't, and I'd love not to. But the sad truth is—this time, anyway—it really wasn't his fault. He was tricked.”

I push him back hard. “I saw him, Gabe! She wasn't
making
him do anything.” A whimper leaves my chest as the picture materializes in my head again. His betrayal sits like a hot stone in my gut, burning a hole in me. I gave Luc everything—my heart, my soul, my body. I loved him more than anything. If he loved me the way he should have, then whatever Lili did wouldn't have mattered. The certainty that he had to want her, at least a little, cuts like a razor.

But I knew it all along, didn't I? I knew true love didn't exist. Like an idiot, I let myself believe, and this is what I get. A broken heart. Exactly what I deserve for being so stupid.

Gabe shakes his head, his eyes a storm of conflict. “I'm so sorry.” He pulls me back to his shoulder and buries me in summer snow. “I've missed you so much,” he says into my hair.

I push back and smooth a hand over his face. I can't believe he's really here. He closes his eyes and I feel his moan reverberate in his chest as I press my hand to it. It's a sound of pleasure, but also of pain.

“This is why I couldn't stay.”

“You're not leaving again.” I'm a little embarrassed by how desperate it sounds, but that's pretty much how I feel.

His smile is shaky. “No. I let you down once. I won't do it again. I promised that I'd always be here for you, and I will.”

His words are enough to unclench the knot in my stomach some. He strokes my hair as, little by little, I let myself relax.

I gaze into those eyes, so deep and full of promises, and they take my breath away.
God, he's beautiful.
I realize that I've moved closer, that our faces are just inches apart.

He cradles my cheek in his hand and traces the lines of my lips with his thumb. Then he closes his eyes. “Ah…If there was ever a mortal I'd give up my wings for…”

I try to ignore the wave of guilt, but I can't. My Sway is completely useless for anything but messing with people. I pull a deep breath and shake my head. “You don't really want me. It's just my stupid Sway. It's not your fault.”

He smiles, because there's no lying to an angel. “But it
is
my fault. I can't be trusted around you.”

He leans in and kisses my forehead. His cool winter sunshine envelops me, and my wounded heart pounds in my chest. I wrap my hands in his soft platinum waves and start to bring his face to mine, but just before our lips touch, I stop.

Guilt squeezes my heart into a painful knot when I realize what I'm doing. I want to lose myself in him—to make this all go away. Not 'cause I want Gabe, but because I still want Luc. The bleeding hole in my chest is killing me—pain so intense, it's physical. I want it to stop. Gabe can do that for me. But it's not fair—or right.

We both jump at the knock on the door. I untangle myself from Gabe and straighten my wild hair with my fingers. Gabe stands and moves to the window, staring out at the swirling dusk.

“Frannie?” Dad calls through the door. “Can I come in?”

I feel my cheeks flush, and I glance at Gabe. “Um…maybe later, Dad.”

Gabe turns from the window. “Let him in, Frannie.”

“No!” I whisper.

He fixes me in a hard gaze. “You need to let him in.”

“Uh…just a second. Hold on,” I amend, questioning Gabe with my eyes. Then I move to the door and unlock it.

The door swings open, and Dad stands there, angry creases between his brows. He looks first at me, then at Gabe.

I expect him to go all crazy and ask how Gabe got in, but instead, he just says, “What's going on?”

My mouth reacts before my brain, and I start babbling. “Nothing, Dad. We were just—”

“It's happening again,” Gabe says, his voice soft.

That stops me cold.

Dad's face pales. “Matt…?”

Gabe's eyes are tortured as he regards my father. “He's fallen, Daniel.”

In that instant, I realize Dad wasn't talking to me. His eyes are fixed on Gabe. And, where I thought anger was pinching his face, I see now that it's really worry.

My head spins as I try to keep up. Why is Gabe telling Dad about Matt? And since when is Gabe on a first-name basis with my father? How do they know each other so well? Gabe's met Dad only once, a few months ago. It feels like I've missed something important.

Dad braces himself on the doorframe. Gabe walks over and pulls him through the door with a hand on his shoulder, closing it behind him. “Just tell her. She needs to know.”

They share a concerned glance, and Dad looks back at me, his expression grave. “There's something I need to show you,” he says, and starts unbuttoning his blue button-down shirt. He pulls it off, exposing a white V-neck undershirt.

Still in shock, I turn away as he starts to lift it over his head. “Dad. What are you doing?” My dad is very modest. I've never seen him without at least a T-shirt on. Even at the beach.

“I need you to see this, Frannie…to understand.”

I turn back to him and lift my eyes. His back is to me, and I  can't hold back my gasp when I catch sight of it. It's everything I can do not to raise my hand and touch the gnarled, white scars covering each shoulder blade.

“Oh my god! What happened?”

He glances over his shoulder, so I follow his gaze. Gabe is near the window, but he's not standing; he's hovering. His shirt is gone, and a pair of immense white wings have sprouted out of his back. He's never shown me his wings before, and now I know why. They're unbelievable. They're feathered, but nothing like I would have pictured—nothing like those stupid paintings you see in churches and stuff. The feathers seem to be made of pure energy—white light.

In a trance, I walk over to Gabe. I reach up to touch the edge of his wing, but he grasps my wrist and holds it. I see the struggle behind his eyes, but finally, he brings my hand to his face and kisses my palm. Then he lets go of me and nods. As my fingers brush over the feathers, I feel electricity sizzle over the surface of my skin. Instantly, all his knowledge, everything he's seen, floods through me and everything goes black.

When I wake, I'm lying on my bed. Gabe sits next to me, holding my hand. He's in his old blue T-shirt again. My father paces behind him, shirt back on. I close my eyes and try to remember what happened just before I blacked out. Dad…scars. Gabe…wings.

My eyes spring wide and shoot to Dad as I sit up. “No!”

He looks a little sad. “Sorry, but yes.”

“You're an angel?”

“No. But I once was.”

I glare at him. “What does that even mean—you once were?”

“I fell, Frannie. A long time ago.”

I bury my face in my hands. “Oh my god.” Then something occurs to me and I look back at him. “Are you really my father?”

He smiles reassuringly. “Yes, I'm your father.”

I sit for a second, staring at nothing, and try to wrap my mind around that. The edges of my vision go fuzzy, then dark. When I realize I'm breathing too fast and my fingertips feel a little numb, I pull a deep breath, afraid I'll pass out again. “So, what does that make me…? All of us?” It's hard to get any air behind the words.

“Nephilim,” Gabe interjects. “You and all your sisters.”

My eyes shift to him. “I don't get it.”

Gabe squeezes my hand. “You're only half human, Frannie. All of you.”

“I still don't get what that means.” I lean toward the edge of the bed, suddenly sure I'm going to be sick.

Gabe's hand glides over my back. “Nephilim are the children of fallen angels and their mortal partners. Your mother is mortal; your father, angel. Most Nephil are mortal, but they may inherit special gifts from their immortal parent—things like exceptional strength, clairvoyance, or other more esoteric skills.”

“Like Sway.” It's not a question.

Gabe nods slowly, his eyes watching me cautiously.

“What about my sisters?”

Gabe laces his fingers into mine. “They're all special in their own way.”

I think about Grace, the way she seems to see through me. “So, do they have guardian angels too?”

Dad shakes his head. “They're not in need of them at the moment.”

I swing my legs around and sit on the edge of the bed, feeling cold dread creeping through my gut. “I don't have one anymore either, do I?”

Gabe gazes down at me, but doesn't answer.

Tears sting my eyes. “It's my fault. I wanted Matt to have a life.”

“It's not your fault, Frannie.” Gabe's eyes shift to Dad. “Matt is not the first angel to lose his wings to Lilith,” he says, his voice heavy.

“Lilith? You mean
Lili
?”

I look up at Dad and find a tear coursing down his cheek.

“Dad?”

“I was like Matt,” he says.

“Like Matt,” I whisper mostly to myself. “You mean a guardian angel?”

He nods.

“What happened?”

“I let myself become…distracted.”

“By Lili,” I say, putting the pieces together. “What is she?”

Dad pulls my desk chair to the bed and sits in front of me, elbows on his knees. He hangs his head, as if it's too heavy to hold up. “She's the first woman—Adam's first wife.”

“
The
Adam?”

He lifts his eyes to mine and nods. “Things didn't go well with them, and she was banished from Eden.”

“You're joking.”

“I wish,” Gabe says.

“So, she's a
demon
?”

I keep thinking this has to be a joke, but Gabe's face is dead serious. “She's a demon, but not.”

I just stare at him and shake my head, frustration boiling over, as I try to sort all this out.

“Technically, she's still human,” he says, “but she's descended to demon status.”

Dad takes my hand and blows out a sigh. “It's a really long story, but suffice it to say that Eve wasn't the only one whom Satan got to. Lilith is, in essence, His queen—His Earthly consort. Basically, she's the original succubus.”

When I speak, the frustration is clear in my words. “Then how come Matt didn't know she was a demon? Angels are supposed to know that.”

“Her soul is human. She doesn't appear any different to us than a mortal tagged for Hell would.” Dad shakes his head and drops his eyes. “When you brought her here…I just wasn't thinking. I should have known.”

This still isn't making sense. She was banished from Eden…. “But that was, like…forever ago. If she's not really a demon, how is she still alive?”

Dad lifts his eyes to mine again. “Lucifer untethered her soul. She's unbound—free to move between mortal hosts. She can possess anyone already tagged for Hell. She only needs to touch them to transfer.”

I press my face into my hand because I can't look at Gabe when I ask. “What does she want with Luc?”