I look at it once more and then turn to walk away. Michael is standing on the other side of the glass door staring at me.
He gives me a weird look and opens the door, “You have found the tree of knowledge. Did you eat from it?”
I shake my head, “I don’t trust fruit that knows more than I do.”
He laughs, “But the fruit is there for you. You could see your victory.”
I nod, “I could also see my defeat, and then that is all I would ever see.”
He narrows his gaze, “You were raised by witches, weren’t you?”
I nod again.
He sighs, “Such a fate to be the sin eater.”
I shake my head, “I don’t know any other fate. This is it.”
“Do you not wish you had known from the beginning?” he steps back so I can come into the warmth of the castle.
I shake my head, “No. I think it would have been harder waiting for that to start and take over. It would have sucked to have known I had a certain amount of free time. Plus, I’m terrible with secrets. I would have told someone the world was ending.” I look back at the glass door and it is gone.
“How did you know it was there?”
I shake my head, “I just had a feeling, like I should go there.”
“Did you see anything else?”
“No. Just the fruit instantly appearing for me. Well, and God of course.”
He gives me a look. I smile, “I’m kidding.”
He smiles back, “You are a strange girl.”
“I guess so. Of course I am walking back to my room in the ivory castle with an archangel. So maybe I’m just strange enough.”
He laughs, “Touché, that is true.”
I get to my room, but he leans against the doorframe and runs his hand down my cheek, “You are so pretty.”
I feel instantly sickened. The whole uncle, grandpa, daddy thing is still whirling around in there.
He opens the door for me, “Your lover is a lucky man.”
I hold my hand up, “Married.”
He scowls, “Not in the eyes of God.” He turns and leaves me there, feeling very vulnerable.
I sip into the room and close the door. I lean my back against it and take a deep breath. He never asked me why he couldn’t read my mind. Had it worked or not?
I climb back into the bed, curling into Wyatt. He wraps around me and I lie there, unsure on how to fall asleep.
When he wakes the next morning, I am exhausted. He yawns and stretches and looks at me, “Have you slept?”
I shake my head.
He groans, “Rayne, you have to sleep. We’re safe.”
I close my eyes, “I don’t know how. My whole life, the dead took me to sleep.”
He sighs and pulls me in, “Once upon a time, there was a girl who lived at the edge of the forest in a little cabin. She had six brothers, all older than her…”
I could see the picture of the little cabin, and before I knew it, I was waking up. The room was filled with light and the last thing I recalled was Wyatt telling me a story.
He smiles at me from the chair in the corner. “You slept.”
I smile, “Did you tell me the whole story?”
He nods, “I did.”
“I missed it. I remember her having brothers and that is all. The cabin by the edge of the forest. How long did I sleep?”
He laughs, “Seven hours. Rayne, you were exhausted.” He gets up and climbs into the bed with me, kissing my neck. He pulls his shirt off and climbs into the bed with me.
I close my eyes and let him start something we probably shouldn’t finish in a castle full of very religious angels who don’t see us as married.
But when he pulls my nightgown off, I know we are going to finish.
We walk down the hall an hour later, grinning at each other like idiots. We get into the dining hall, and I am starved for every kind of food.
A lady comes and brings us a tray of food each. We sit at a corner of one of the massive tables. I look around at the lavish life these people live. “It’s weird the whole world is destroyed, and they are up here living the life.”
Wyatt scowls at me and mutters, “Inside voice.”
I smile and eat a grape, closing my eyes and moaning. “Oh my God, this is good.”
He smiles at me, “I want to take this back to our room.”
“So you can finish telling me that story and I can sleep some more?”
He shakes his head and eats a grape, getting juice from the sweet grape all over his lips. I lean forward, sucking his bottom lip. He kisses me back, grabbing the back of my head and running his hands up into my hair. The kiss is interrupted by a man’s voice.
“Good afternoon.”
We stop and turn to see Michael strolling towards us. He holds his hands out, “You both look lovely. Outfits suiting you more than the pink pajamas maybe?”
Wyatt blushes and looks down at his white dress shirt and khaki dress pants, “These are awesome, thank you.”
I feel less grateful for my dress. I tried to steal some of his pants, but he made me wear the dress, customs being what they are and all.
Michael motions his hands forward, “We have something for you.”
I scowl as a man is brought to me. He has on the same clothes as Wyatt and looks like he belongs in the Nazi herd. But something is different about him. His eyes are not bright blue, they are black. He has done something bad. I can smell it on him.
“He has committed a terrible crime against another of our kind. We figured you could go for a bite to eat, so to speak. God did send you here to be the executioner.”
I open my mouth to thank him but decline the offer, when Wyatt nods, “She would love to.” He looks at me. I scowl but he doesn’t budge on it. I stand, smoothing the pale-blue dress that looks like I stole it from a heritage museum, turning to face the handsome man.
He trembles when I step closer. I look around the room at the people about to watch.
“Just do it.” Wyatt says.
I look at the man, “I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head but doesn’t speak. I put my hands on either side of his face and pull him down to my height. I press my lips against his. The kiss is delicious. He tastes like something I have never had before. I moan as I pull it from him, my hands gripping into his hair. He kisses back, his hands sliding across my back. He lifts me into the air, and I suck, like I have never before.
It is cut short and I am ripped away from him. The man’s eyes are blue again. He smiles at me, “Thanks.”
I am breathless and looking back at Wyatt who looks like he might kill everyone in the room. I look at Michel, “What was that?”
The man winks at Wyatt and me and walks away. Michael puts a hand up, “That was a fallen angel. You can save them. Suck them clean of the sins they have committed.”
I step back into Wyatt, “They can also ask God for forgiveness.”
Wyatt steps in front of me, holding me back with his hands like I’ve done something wrong. “You can find another way.”
Michael meets his gaze, “You have no right to speak for her.”
“I am her husband. I have every right.” I would argue that point but I agree. He can talk, Michael scares me.
Michael gives him a look, “Not in God’s eyes. A witch ceremony hardly counts. You of all people, should know that.”
Wyatt grips me harder, “I know she is my soul mate. I know I will kill everything I touch if she is harmed. I know I can kill everything in this room. That’s what I was sent here for, isn’t it?”
Michael steps back, putting a hand up, “Easy, Nephew. We are among friends and family. If you say no, then no it is.” He smiles, but I can see his ruffled feathers, so to speak. He gives Wyatt a look, “No need to think such harsh things.”
The other angels and witches look shocked. He must have been plotting their death. Wyatt doesn’t let go of me. His grip doesn’t lessen at all. He grabs harder even and pulls me from the room. I almost trip, trying to keep up to him. I pull back when we are alone in the hallway. I am strong again. Whatever was in the angel was the good stuff. I couldn’t even get a sense of what it was.
Wyatt looks at me, breathing heavily like he is desperately trying to get control of his anger. “I am sorry. I am sorry I was a psycho. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.” The words are forced and painful for him.
I laugh nervously, “Let’s just say that if anyone, ever kissed you like that, I would gut them like a fish.”
He nods, “Okay. We’re good?”
I nod, “Just don’t grab me like that. It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t know.”
He sighs, “Me either. I thought you could eat him alive.”
“You and me both.”
He looks back at the hallway and opens his mouth. I plant a kiss on his cheek, “Don’t say it. Just trust me.”
I grab his hand and walk back to our room. I close the door and go brush my teeth. The paste is actually paste, made from mints. I look up into the mirror, jumping back when I see Willow.
I scowl, ”What’s with you guys and the mirrors?”
She whispers, “Who else came by mirror?”
“Constantine.”
She nods, “The mirrors in the white towers are magical. Always have been. The glass is made by the witches. They use it to spy. So Constantine’s in Boston with the fire witches? The earth witches are furious.”
I nod, “I don’t care. The fire witches have helped me loads.”