Angel's Honor (7 page)

Read Angel's Honor Online

Authors: Erin M. Leaf

“So.
You have shown up with
not even a second to spare,” Samael mocked, hands on his hips. He stood in the
center of the giant circle, shoulders back and belligerence in every line of
his body. His dull brown wings looked black in the light of the moon.

“I am not one to hurry toward rash
business,” Gabriel replied mildly. “We do not have to fight. You can still
concede.” He held out his arms and walked forward. “My marks show God’s desire.”
The black lines along his skin were stark reminders of his change in status. As
the people caught sight of them, he heard murmuring. Not everyone believed the
rumors, he realized. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Samael scoffed. “Tattooing over
your legacy is among our most abominable crimes. I am appalled that you,
Michael’s son, have done such a thing.”

The first, faint stirring of anger
tickled down Gabriel’s spine. “You know I would do no such thing. Do not seek
to create crime where it does not exist. Our People know truth when it stares
them in the face.” He knew everyone would understand what he didn’t say: that
Samael had been a cruel and demanding leader all his life. His insistence on
tithes above and beyond the ordinary to support his lavish lifestyle was only
the least of his crimes. There had been rumors of rapes and abuse among the
human servants. There had been whispers about how he treated his mate and other
women. If the People hadn’t had such strict customs about obeying their
leaders, he would have been deposed years ago.

No. Samael’s
father,
and his father’s father would have been deposed,
he thought. The People’s oldest
traditions said that God would pick their Alpha, and he would be known by his
ebon wings. Unfortunately, there hadn’t been a true Alpha in untold years.
Until now.

“I stand before you, newly changed,”
Gabriel said, raising his voice and turning to the gathered angels as he spoke.
“I seek only to serve, to remember our most sacred customs, and to lead us into
this modern world with truth and honor. God has given me his blessing.” He
lifted his arms, exposing his markings. The moonlight clearly lit the
tattoo-like feather marks sweeping up and over his shoulders. “I ask for yours.”

The soft murmurings that had begun
when Samael spoke grew louder.

“Defend yourself!” Samael shouted,
snapping his wings open.

I guess he’s going to ignore the
customary greeting of the challenger and challenged,
Gabriel thought, not
surprised. He swiftly shifted, opening his wings into the cool air. The slight
breeze immediately caressed his feathers and he lifted gently from the ground.

Samael glared at him, and leaped.
The flash of the knife was Gabriel’s only warning. He twisted and Samael rushed
past him. “You would use a blade in a challenge?” He spat to one side, aware of
everyone watching from the corner of his eye. “You dishonor our People.”

Samael turned. “This isn’t a true
challenge. I can use any weapon I desire against a usurper. My family has led
the angels for centuries.”

“And our People have been in
decline for centuries,” Gabriel retorted,
then
he
crouched and leapt into the air. Samael launched himself after him, wings
beating furiously. Gabriel knew it was a tactic to distract him from the knife
Samael hid against his arm. He spun, wishing for the thermals that made daytime
flight so much easier, and dove for the ground. When Samael slashed at him, he
spiraled,
then
snapped his wings open just before he
would’ve hit the stones. He touched down lightly and then stood, wings
stretched out. He didn’t have to wait long. Samael came barreling through the
air, fists first.

Gabriel dodged him,
then
grabbed his arm, yanking as he launched back into the
skies. He dragged Samael behind him but the other angel growled, tucking his
legs in. Gabriel had to let go or unbalance his flight. Samael laughed,
then
his hand snapped out again, catching Gabriel’s shoulder
with the knife. Gabriel gasped as pain shot through him.

“Give in now, and I won’t kill you,”
Samael taunted, hovering just above Gabriel.

Gabriel glared defiantly as blood
dripped down his arm. He knew everyone could see him bleeding—the drops hit the
pale stones below like grim pebbles. “I will not concede to a creature who
believes cheating is an honorable option.”

Samael’s face twisted with rage at
the double insult. “I am an archangel! Not a thing. And honor means nothing
when a mere bodyguard’s son thinks he can take up violence against his leader.”

Gabriel’s anger washed over him, thankfully
blurring the pain. How dare he mention his father! Samael was the reason his
father died.
Don’t let your anger blind you,
he reminded himself,
waiting for Samael’s next move. He didn’t have to wait long. The older angel
descended in a flurry, feet first. Gabriel grabbed Samael’s calves and heaved,
sending him tumbling toward the ground. Gabriel punched him in the face as he
careened past, breaking a cheekbone. Samael cried out in agony, but at the last
minute managed to right himself and land on his feet. He stood in the circle’s
center, smearing Gabriel’s fallen blood into the stones with his toes, like an
animal. He cupped his cheek with one hand, not letting anyone see the damage.

“Come down and fight like the demon
you are,” he called, gesturing theatrically with his free arm. His voice was
thick and wet. “Look! The People are waiting!” He used a toe to swipe across
the blood drops again. “See? You bleed like any other angel. You are no Alpha.”

Gabriel flew down slowly. His arm throbbed
from the shoulder wound, and he worried that he’d lose strength in it if the
fight lasted much longer. That would be very bad. The same muscles that ran
through his arms were connected to his flight muscles. Being trapped on the
ground was no way to live. “If you were a true leader, you would recognize God’s
work when you saw it,” he said as he descended. He landed in front of Samael
lightly, projecting cool strength. His father had taught him to never let an
enemy see weakness.

“God’s work?”
Samael snorted. “You
are delusional.” His eyes flicked to the side.

Gabriel cried out as a burning pain
shot through his back. He fell to one knee, struggling to see what had
happened. Behind him, Raphael yelled, and there was a scuffle, but he was in
too much pain to focus. He made himself breathe through it, knowing he
had
to survive this. His People needed him, now more than ever. When he looked up
at Samael, the angel’s eyes glowed red. A terrible foreboding filled Gabriel.
Red was the color of demons.

“You cannot even watch your own
back,” Samael mocked, spitting blood on Gabriel’s face.

Gabriel breathed deep, letting his
purpose fill him. He no longer wanted to best Samael so he could become leader.
He no longer wanted it so he could keep Raphael as his mate. He didn’t want it
to avenge his father’s untimely death. He needed to stop Samael because the
People could not survive as a species if any of them had been demon-taken.
Demons were anathema. The thought that Samael could be possessed was more
horrifying than death itself. This was why God had chosen marked him as Alpha:
to cleanse the angels of a taint none of them even knew had come to their door.

To hell with remaining calm,
he thought, forcing h
imself to his feet. Something dragged at his right wing and he
groaned, but he stood up. Samael’s face twisted and he finally dropped the hand
that had been hiding his cheek. Gabriel saw that he’d broken Samael’s skull—the
entire left side of his face was caved in. In any normal angel, death would
already have come. In Samael, it was simply further proof that he was no longer
of the People.

“You invalidate this challenge. By
right of dishonor, I have already won. I am Alpha, and leader of the
Archangels, and of our People,” Gabriel said, walking forward. He ignored the
screaming pain in his back.

Samael howled his defiance and
stood his ground.

Gabriel ignored the terror that he
would never fly again. He ignored everything except the angel in front of him.
When he was within arms’ reach, Samael hissed and began to change. Gabriel had
been half-expecting it and was ready. He sent a quick prayer to God, then
reached out abruptly and snapped Samael’s neck, ignoring the scales that had
already crawled over most of the fallen angel’s body. They felt rough and
burned his hands, but he didn’t let go until he was sure Samael was truly gone.
Something looked out at him from within the body, but then that, too, faded and
the body went dull, head flopping to the side. He let go and it fell to the
ground with a wet thunk. Ozone scorched the air.

Certainty filled Gabriel as he
stepped back.
That was a demon. Samael was truly possessed.
God was with
him, even now, or he would not have survived this night. On the ground, Samael’s
eyes filmed over crimson instead of white, the mark of Hell. His wings had
shifted from half-feathered to entirely
scaled
.

“A demon,” someone in the crowd
said.
“May God, preserve us all.”

“God has already preserved us,”
someone else said. “We have an Alpha who has saved the People from disaster.”

Gabriel drew in a shuddering breath
and stepped back further, not wanting to deal with the angels looking toward
him. Not yet. He couldn’t think properly anymore. The pain in his back
overwhelmed him and he staggered until someone pressed up tight against his
uninjured side, stabilizing him.

“Here, sit down,” Raphael said, his
cool presence a balm to Gabriel’s senses. He let his mate ease him to the
ground.

“I’m never going to fly again, am
I?” Despair shot through him.

“Not if I have anything to say
about it,” Raphael muttered, laying his hands on Gabriel’s face. “Look at me.”

Gabriel obeyed. At least they were
alive. They had each other. That would be enough.

“Okay, none of that,” Raphael
admonished him, somehow sensing his dark thoughts. “Listen to me. Remember what
it felt like to fly above the ridgeline? Warm thermal lifting you so high you
thought you could touch Heaven?”

Gabriel nodded. Of course he did.
How could he forget that feeling?
The only thing better than
flying like that was flying with his Omega by his side.
“With you,” he
forced out, voice cracking.

Raphael nodded, blue
eyes intense.
“Focus on how that feels.”

Gabriel had no idea what his lover
was doing, but he didn’t care. His hands were cool. They felt good.
Astonishingly, his shoulder felt marginally better.


Don’t
look away, Gabriel,” Raphael said, his wings nearly luminescent in the
moonlight. He leaned closer, leaning his forehead against Gabriel’s. “I love
you,” he whispered, intent and purposeful.

Gabriel shivered, the last of the
burning pain disappearing with a clap of sound he felt in his bones rather than
heard. It shivered through him like thunder and rain and wind all mixed up
together, but it happened so fast, he couldn’t understand it. He gasped and
Raphael breathed with him, in and out, in and out, until the sensation passed.

“What happened?” he croaked,
struggling to sit up on his own.

Raphael helped him. “I healed you.”
The tone of his voice conveyed his bemusement. “
Which is
impossible, by the way.

Gabriel stared at his mate. He felt
good. He felt great, actually. He flicked his wings experimentally, sighing
when they moved normally and without pain. “Thank God. And thank you,” he
sighed, pulling Raphael into a rough hug. His mate hugged him back, just as tightly.
“What happened earlier, during the fight? I heard you yell.”

Raphael sighed heavily and stood
up, dragging Gabriel with him. “Samael’s mate, Hania, stabbed you in the back.
She was on the sidelines, closer than anyone else except me. I grabbed her, but
too late. I’m so sorry she got close. I should’ve been watching.”

Gabriel grabbed him by the
shoulders. “Stop it. You couldn’t have known she would do that. And you
healed
me, my God, Raphael. That is a miracle,” he said, still incredulous over it.

“It is indeed a miracle,” a woman
said, walking toward them. She had the same black hair and blue eyes as
Raphael. Gabriel’s mother walked just behind her, smiling with relief.

“Mom?
I thought you weren’t
coming?” Gabriel said, enfolding her in a hug.

She sniffed into his shoulder. “I
couldn’t stay away.”

He nodded against her hair. Raphael
was hugging his mother, too. When he eased back, Gabriel made himself let go. “Mother,
this is Raphael, my mate.”

“I am so happy to meet you, Omega,”
his mother said.

Raphael smiled at her and took her
outstretched hand. “The pleasure is mine.” He turned. “This is my mother,
Charmeine. Mother, this is my mate’s mother, Anahita.”

The two women smiled at each other.
Gabriel was happy everyone was getting along, but he had more pressing concerns
than family greetings. “Where is Samael’s mate?” he asked.

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