Ruined (The Seraphim Series Book 1) (12 page)

“Time passed and I’d had enough. I was the only angel left. I wanted to go home. At first, Earth was so new and so freeing.” He exhaled. “But it quickly became lonely. It's a prison in its own right. So I came up with a plan. I realised that it was Michael’s blood that had been used to cut us out of Heaven. So I thought that if I got my hands on a direct relative of Michael’s, I could use it to reopen the gates.”

“Just like the vampires,” Lilliah said, realisation dawning. “Are you where they got the idea from?”

“Yes,” he reluctantly confirmed, moving so they were sitting closer. “It wasn’t a secret what I was doing. I did it for so long, it was a well-known fact.”

“What was your plan then? Sneak into Heaven?” A smile pulled at her lips.

“I was going to take you with me. Michael would let me home if I brought his daughter back.”

“Okay.  So none of my family have my blood?” Panic started to rise in her stomach. Was that why the vampires had taken her mother?

“No.” He shook his head adamantly. “The power you have runs so much deeper than simple DNA. To a mortal doctor, you would be the daughter of Anna and Perry Daniels. Your DNA would prove it. But to us, you are the daughter of Michael.”

“Good.” She relaxed. “So, was it really me that changed your mind?” She didn't want him to stop talking. She was afraid that if she didn't find out now, she'd never know.

“Yes. I had never actually gotten this close to you before.” He reached out to take her hands in his, as if he were trying to emphasize what he was saying through physical contact.

“It was when I saw you walking in the middle of the road,” he said, referring to the day Lilliah had nearly gotten run over by a car when she had been half delirious. “I had only found you the week before. It took a lot less time this time around,” he shared. “But when I touched you, it was like an electric shock.”

“Were you the black figure I saw?” she asked, suddenly remembering. “Why did you have red eyes?”

“What figure?” Azrael asked, confused.

“The day I just walked out into the middle of the road was because I’d seen this strange thing.” She stopped, trying to find the right words to describe it. “It was like a person but without any features, apart from these really red eyes. It was kind of drawing me towards it, like I was hypnotised.” It had been unlike anything she had ever felt before, as though someone had been controlling her. She pursed her lips, thinking of the best way to describe it. “That wasn’t you?” she asked when she saw Azrael’s face.

“No. It wasn’t me,” he told her, his face paling.

“Azrael?” she asked. “What’s wrong? Who was it if it wasn’t you?”

“I don't know,” he said quickly. “What did it do? Did it move or say anything?”

“No,” Lilliah told him, getting nervous at his reaction. Who in the world could make Azrael nervous? There was a part of her that really didn’t want to know the answer.

“Come on,” Azrael said.

Lilliah shot up and ran after him. He was already stalking out of the forest, determined. “I need to speak with Benedict,” he said, mostly to himself, but she’d heard it, and instead of asking any more questions, she decided to just follow him. Their moment of sharing was officially over.

“Benedict!” he roared when they finally walked into the house, making Lilliah jump.

Benedict suddenly appeared out of nowhere, looking cool, calm, and ready for business.

“In my office,” Azrael ordered without stopping.

Lilliah wasn’t sure whether he wanted her to follow him or not, and in his current mood, she really didn’t want to ask.

“Is everything okay, Lilliah?” Benedict asked, coming up to walk beside her.

She had thought everything was okay until two minutes ago. Now she wasn’t so sure. “Who the hell knows?” she replied, following Azrael into his office.

“Tell him what you just told me,” Azrael commanded, slamming the door shut.

With a shaky breath, Lilliah told the story again about the strange figure, getting more and more panicked when she saw Benedict’s expression.

“What do you think?” Azrael asked, leaning against his desk, arms folded across his chest.

“It's not—it's impossible,” Benedict told him, although his eyes were still on Lilliah and his expression was still frightened.

“It's not the first time he's done something impossible,” Azrael stated.

Getting frustrated with being the only one in the room who didn’t know what was going on, Lilliah spoke up. “Can someone please fill me in?” she demanded, her eyes bouncing from Azrael to Benedict. “Who the hell did I see?”

“We can’t be sure.” She watched Azrael, expecting him to say more, but instead, he walked around his desk, eyes narrowed.

“But you have an idea?” she prodded.

“There's a possibility it was Lucifer,” Benedict cut in quickly.

“Lucifer?” she repeated. “As in the Devil?” she clarified. Panic started to slowly build in her stomach.

“But it’s just a possibility.” She knew Azrael was talking to her, but his eyes were solely on Benedict, and they weren’t happy.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense and you know it,” Benedict defended, refusing to back down under Azrael’s terrifying gaze.

Good for him!
Lilliah cheered in her head. “Why is it the only theory?” she asked, sinking into one of the armchairs opposite Azrael’s desk, suddenly drained. “Why can't it be a werewolf or a vampire? Or some other magical thing? Why does it have to be Lucifer?”

“Because you'd just see them normally. They wouldn’t be figures,” Benedict explained from behind. “And sometimes people see him as a black figure when it’s approaching the Day of the Dead.”

“They do?” She was terrified. She had seen the Devil, but more importantly, the Devil had seen her.

“The Day of the Dead,” she repeated. “When is that again?”

“Not for a few hundred years. You shouldn’t be seeing him now.” Azrael leant forward, his elbows resting on his desk. “No one should. So it really is just a theory.”

“So it’s just a coincidence that sometimes people see the Devil as a black, blurry figure with red eyes, and now I am?” she said sarcastically. “Then straight after that, I find out I’m an angel? That doesn’t sound like a coincidence to me.”

“I'm not saying that it's all one huge coincidence. I'm just saying it might not be Lucifer.” Azrael turned to her, his earlier discomfort now hidden behind his hard features.

“You were worried,” she reminded him, her eyes narrowing.

“I don't know who or what it is. That's what worries me.” She could tell he was lying.

“Look, Lilliah. I’m going to look into this. We'll find out whether it was Lucifer, okay?” She could hear Benedict trying to reassure her, but her eyes were still fixed on Azrael.

“And what if it is him?” she asked nervously, her eyes finally moving away from Azrael and to her hands on her lap.

“Then we'll sort it out,” Azrael said with a confidence she was sure he didn’t have. He was just as worried as she was; he just hid it better.

“I'll do some digging. Don't worry, Lilliah. We'll find out what it was you saw.” With a reassuring pat on the shoulder, Benedict left.

“Surely no one should have this much bad luck. First my mum, then I get attacked by everyone! Now Lucifer? It has to all be connected somehow. It all happened after he showed up.” She was speaking mostly to herself, trying to make sense of everything. She wasn’t even sure Azrael was listening until he spoke.

“That's a good point, Lilliah.”

She looked up in surprise at Azrael’s smile.

“It’s the same theory I’ve been toying with. This all must be connected.” She watched as he stood from his seat and started pacing. “Who would benefit if Lucifer were set free?” Lilliah wasn’t sure whether he was talking to her or to himself, so she didn’t answer. She just watched him pace, secretly admiring how his muscles flexed under his shirt. “It can't be the vampires or the werewolves.”

“Why not?” she cut in out of curiosity.

“Because he would hate vampires and werewolves. Lucifer was all about being pure. He even hated the thought of humans,” he explained, coming to a stop and placing his hands in his pocket.

“Right,” she drawled out, thinking it was not possible to be more confused than she was in that moment. “Who else is there?”

“I don't know, but I’m going to find out,” he promised, looking determined. He held her gaze as he walked around his desk, and her breath picked up immediately.

“I believe you,” she whispered when he was just a few inches away.

“Good,” he breathed, swooping down and pressing his lips on hers. The quick action shocked her, but she recovered quickly, wrapping her arms around him. His hands sneaked under her, grabbing her arse and pulling her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, letting him deepen the kiss when he pressed.

She pulled away, breathing heavily. “Just because I believe you, it doesn't mean I trust you.”

“Give it time, angel. Give it time.”

Chapter 10

“You’re always cooped up in this office,” Lilliah said, leaning on the doorframe. “Don’t you ever just want to get out?”

“I stay in my office so you can find me.” Azrael smirked up at her mischievously. “I like these little visits.”

“Ha.” She walked farther into the room. “I bet you find me annoying, really.” She smiled, running her fingers over the edge of his desk.

“I could never find you annoying.”

She jumped as he breathed down her neck, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her close.

“We’re going to have to put a bell on you,” she joked, pressing her back to his chest. “It’s so not fair you using your super-speed.”

“Mmm, no bell.” She could feel him smile as he nuzzled her neck. “I like sneaking up on you.”

She shuddered as he kissed her neck. At first the kisses were small and nice, but they quickly grew hotter and wetter, his hands sneaking up her top.

“Oh, wow,” she breathed, pushing back into him. She needed to feel more of him.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” Moving quickly, Azrael turned her so they were facing.

“Yeah. Me too.” She nodded numbly.

He crashed his lips back to hers, roughly grabbing her hips and picking her up, slamming her against the edge of his desk. “You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined you on this desk.” 

He stepped back, still watching her as he worked on his shirt buttons, slowly teasing her with his perfectly defined abs. She couldn’t look away.

“My face is up here,” he teased, throwing his shirt behind him.

“But your abs are down here,” she teased back, biting her lip. “How are you even real?”

“I can show you just how real I am.” She opened her legs as he walked between them. “These need to come off,” he mumbled on her lips in mid-kiss.

With nimble fingers, he unbuttoned her trousers, dragging them down her legs and quickly discarding them. She wrapped her legs around his waist like a vice, holding him in place. She needed the friction. He attacked her mouth again, his kisses getting harder and more intense.

“Your top,” he growled, already reaching for the hem. He pulled it over her head. “You’re so beautiful.”

His kisses moved down her throat and to her breasts. She didn’t know when he had taken off her bra; she only realised it was gone when his rough hand cupped her breast, squeezing them and kneading them until she was dizzy with need.

“Oh, my . . .” She pushed herself up to him, grinding and moving. “I want to feel you.” Her hands rubbed over his torso, moving down to his trousers.

“Take these off.” She giggled as he stepped back, his eyes fixed on her as he unbuttoned his trousers and stepped out of them.

“Feel all you want . . .”

“Lilliah?”

“Let me feel you . . .”

“Feel what?”

Slowly, Lilliah opened her eyes, still foggy and tired.

“Dude, what were you dreaming about?” A very amused-looking Rebecca stood above her.

“Oh.” She sighed, so disappointed she wanted to cry. Stretching her neck, she looked around the room. She had fallen asleep in the living room, surrounded by books and Azrael-less. It was turning into a very unsatisfactory, sad day. 

“So”—Rebecca pushed Lilliah’s legs off the sofa she had been lying on and took a seat—“what were you dreaming about?”

“Screw you.” She sat up, rubbing her thighs together
. Why couldn’t it be real? Why did I have to wake up just before the big reveal?!
“Why did you wake me up?” she whined, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Oh, you were having a dirty dream.” Rebecca jiggled in her seat in a silly dance. “You’re turning into a bad girl.” She laughed, still way too giddy for Lilliah’s liking.

“Oh, please, just shut up. Or leave.”

“No, I need your help.” Rebecca giggled.  “It’s Sebastian. He seems weird.”

“What do you mean? He seemed fine yesterday.” She turned her head slightly, still blinking in tiredness. Rebecca had always been confident, always putting herself out there without fear. But the unsure girl sitting in front of Lilliah, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear, wasn't that Rebecca.

“I don’t know. He just doesn’t seem right. One minute he’s talking to me, completely fine, and the next minute, he’s hardly talking at all. And he like, rushes off!”

“That’s just Sebastian.” She shrugged. “He’s moody as hell.”

“Right . . .” Rebecca drawled out, clearly wanting more advice.

“Look, he's still digesting everything, I think.” Lilliah sighed, not really sure what to say. He'd been fine with her, but that probably wasn’t what Rebecca wanted to hear. “He’s getting there, though, ” she said instead. It had taken a while, but Lilliah had come to realise her brother had good days and bad days when it came to coping with his demonic past. On his good days, he worked with it, using the knowledge to enhance his strength and his other abilities. On a bad day, however, it was a completely different story, with him spending all day locked in his room, barely talking to anyone, especially Lilliah.

“Do you think a side effect to being a demon is PMS-ing?” Lilliah laughed.

“I just want to help him. Be there for him, you know?” Rebecca asked, clearly not in the mood for a joke. “But how do you help someone who's been told they’re a demon?” Her expression was completely hopeless, and Lilliah couldn't hold in her laughter.

“Just keep telling him demons are cool, and that he needs to pick himself up. Trust me, it won’t take long. He has like a three-second rebound time, and then he’s back to being the same obnoxious twat we all love.”

Lilliah's answer obviously wasn’t good enough for Rebecca,as she still wore a troubled look
.

“Google it,” Lilliah finally suggested, trying to once again lighten the mood.

“Oh, don't worry, I have. Surprisingly, there's nothing on the web about the guy you fancy finding out he's a demon.” For a second, Lilliah couldn’t tell whether she was joking. “I guess it doesn’t really matter anyway. He's not interested.”

“You don't know that.” In all honesty, she really didn’t know how her brother felt. He had somehow gotten really good at hiding his feelings.

“Yeah, I guess.” She paused, looking down at her bare nails. “I wish I had some nail varnish. I feel like I don't have anything to work with here.” She waved her hands in front of her face.

For the first time in her life, Lilliah understood Rebecca’s need to be made-up and looking good. Under normal circumstances, Lilliah hated make-up. The thought of dressing up and doing her hair all the time bored the life out of her. She'd rather spend an extra hour in bed than get up. Shoving her hair up in a quick bun normally suited her just fine. But not recently. Now she wanted to look good and spend time on her hair. As pathetic as it sounded, she wanted to look good for Azrael.

“I know what you mean. Every time Dena struts in here, wearing those goddamned heels that I wouldn’t even be able to stand in, I just want to go and hide somewhere dark.”

“Oh, please. Dena hasn’t got anything on you, honey,” Rebecca assured, putting on a funny accent. “Besides, you don’t need any make-up. You actually look better without it.”

“Dena’s sexy. Plus she and Azrael have a past!” Lilliah pointed out.

“So are you. If Azrael wanted her, I have a feeling he'd be with her. He doesn’t seem the kind of guy to be standing on the sidelines, you know?”

“I know that, but it’s not just Dena I’m up against here. Who knows how many women he’s been with? The list could literally be endless!” She voiced the fear that had been slowly creeping up on her since their first kiss.

“You could think that with any guy, though,” Rebecca pointed out.

“No. Not like this. Azrael has been alive through some really mad times. Just try and imagine all the things he could have done, all the experiences, all the women!” Her eyes widened. “I have no experience,” she shared, even though Rebecca was already well aware. “I kissed that one guy,” she remembered.

“I’m sorry.” Rebecca smiled, shaking her head.  “But you can’t count that one kiss as experience. That kiss looked awkwardly strange, and I think it would be better if we all forgot about it.” She laughed.

Lilliah could feel her face heat up. The kiss, her only other kiss, had been at a party she and Rebecca had attended the previous year. After too much alcohol, Lilliah had decided she’d had enough of being seventeen without having even kissed a guy before. So in the heat of the moment, she had grabbed the nearest guy and kissed him. Everyone had been shocked. Especially Timothy Gates, the nice guy from her math class whom she had been kissing.

“You’re right.” She shook her head, wanting to literally shake the images out. “That really wasn’t an experience.” She ran her hands through her hair, massaging her scalp. “How can I be enough for him? I barely know what I'm doing.”

After a moment of thinking, Rebecca said, “Azrael’s an angel. You’re thinking of him like a guy our age. He’s not.”

“Exactly,” Lilliah said, not really sure where Rebecca was going with this. “He’s better. Which might mean he’ll want better.”

“If he really cares that much that you haven't had sex or that you haven't kissed a guy before, then he's a loser and you're better off without him. Just move at your own pace.”

“But I care that I might be bad at kissing. We’ve kissed twice now. What if they were bad kisses?”

“Well, the fact that there were two means the first one wasn’t so bad.” Rebecca smirked. “So what's happening with Azrael? Are we trusting him now?”

“No,” Lilliah answered immediately. “Yes,” she corrected after the twang of guilt hit her. “Maybe?” she tried again.

“Right. Giving me all three answers isn't really an answer.”

“I don't know. I want to trust him. I do trust him,” she shared. “Is that stupid? To trust him so soon?”

“Maybe?” Rebecca tilted her head to the side. “But who knows? This shit isn't normal. Just go with your instincts. And besides, if your dream’s anything to go by, things are moving quite nicely.”

                                                                         ************

Ada Washington sat in the library, her fingers absent-mindedly running over the five rings she always wore on her left hand. Each one represented one of five magical bloodlines. A change was coming; she could feel it in the air. A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth; even with her mind elsewhere, she could sense Azrael before she could see him. She could feel the power and energy that literally rolled off him. Even as one of the most powerful witches on Earth, Azrael's power still astounded her.

“I heard you found her,” Ada said, stating why she was there without any delay while still staring out the window as Azrael walked into the library.

“Ada,” he greeted. “So glad Benedict let you in.” He smirked sarcastically. “You shouldn’t have come all this way. There are such things as telephones now, you know,” he mocked, walking over to the bar. “Can I get you a drink?”

“You know I don't drink alcohol, Azrael. It weakens the soul,” she replied, turning to look at him for the first time, her light-green eyes taking him in.

“Of course.” He smirked, pouring himself a double shot of whiskey. “For a moment there, I’d forgotten about all your rules.” He turned to look at her. “You know she's here,” he said, his eyes taking in the older woman. Her perfect, made-up face stared back at him, refusing to back down as most people would.
She looks the part of the perfect lady
, Azrael thought, smiling at how deceiving looks could really be. Azrael had known her for more than two hundred years, although she looked no older than fifty.

“What are you planning to do with her?” she asked, straightening out her black dress. Like Azrael, she always wore black, preferring to watch than be watched.

“Why is that any business of yours?” He leant on the bar, all casual and at ease. “I don't remember The Cure being interested in anything I’ve done before?”

“The fate of that girl is all of our business,” she stressed, her anger showing for the first time. “The word is out about her,” she told him, suspecting that he knew that already. “The werewolves, the vampires—everyone knows who she is and everyone is after her.”

“I know that,” he told her, taking a long, leisurely sip of his drink.

“You can’t kill her,” Ada told him, her eyes scanning his features, narrowing her eyes for a second. “You’re not going to, are you?” she said, a smile pulling at her lips.

“No,” he confirmed, still refusing to give anything away.

“Good.” She smiled a little more brightly but was still puzzled. “I should have guessed. She’s been here for around three weeks hasn’t she? You would have killed her by now.”

“Maybe,” was all Azrael replied.

“Things are changing, Azrael.” Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, lifting her head to the sky. “Can you feel it?”

“Change is always coming,” he dismissed. “But what I am interested in is what it has to do with The Cure?” He watched her slowly open her eyes. He took the seat opposite her and took a slow sip of his drink before he continued, “For people that are supposed to be unbiased, you’re asking a lot of questions.”