“Why is it forbidden?”
“Because of the impact we can have—that awe—it’s so easy for us to affect you. Being close to one of us can lead to a type of enthrallment, which you experienced earlier today. It becomes intoxicating for you, addictive, for both the human and the angel. We were never designed to be with you physically. That is considered perverse among our kind. It’s an abuse of our power, a line we’re not meant to cross. Those who do suffer immensely for it.” She got up and paced my room again, ruffling her wings, and specks of blue light danced around her.
“What happened to them?” I asked.
“Many became addicted to the enthrallment, as did the people they enthralled. Eventually, the fallen learned how to use it to manipulate and control. The further the angel fell, the more dark and self-serving the enthrallment became, where they drained the life force of their victims until there was nothing left.” Arielle turned to me. “You’ve seen Damiel do it. It’s what makes him so dangerous.”
I recalled the way I’d had a hard time breaking my date with Damiel, how tired he’d made me, and shivered. I was lucky Michael had come along when he did. Damiel had used that same charm on Fiona and look what happened to her.
I wanted to ask Arielle if Michael had done that with me but didn’t know how to ask. I searched my memories from both lives, old and new, but found nothing, nothing that seemed like I was being controlled. Instead, Michael shut himself down, trying to keep us apart, as if he had the right to choose for both of us.
“You said before it was a line you’re not meant to cross. Where—exactly—is it?” I asked. Michael had said he couldn’t be with me that way, but he’d kissed me. Had we already crossed it?
“It’s not easy to define, since it’s a matter of enthrallment and addiction. There are some alcoholics who can have a glass of wine and not go on a binge, while others can’t take even one sip,” she explained. “Our way has been to avoid human contact altogether, and Michael’s track record hasn’t been very good.”
It still didn’t answer my question. Was there something else she wasn’t telling me?
“I don’t know everything that happened between you and Michael,” she said. “But I do know it impacted you. Why else would you have been intrigued by ancient history for so long, and not only in this life?”
I’d been into ancient history before? In other lifetimes?
“Being near Michael brought forward some of your memories, but when Damiel tried to force them all to come in at once, it opened you right up,” she continued, “so even though your mind might not remember all the details—your soul does.”
The whole idea of my soul remembering things made my head hurt. I could sense more memories lurking in the back of my mind, threatening to reveal themselves, and I was suddenly tired. “Why did Michael come back? He said he’d been given another chance.”
Arielle put an arm around my shoulder, her presence as soothing as I imagined a sister’s would be. “I don’t know all of God’s plan. But I know one thing. You and Michael were brought together again for a reason.”
Chapter Seventeen
The next morning, the sound of growling startled me awake. The air in my room felt cool and damp against my skin, and through my open curtains, clouds hung in the sky like huge black sponges, blocking the sun. I sat up, kicking the blankets off, and listened. Over the sound of heavy rain beating on the roof, I heard another snarl. Close. I’d know that sound anywhere.
Hellhounds.
Could they see me inside my house? Tell if I was awake? They were ghostly at times, neither in this world nor out of it. Could walls keep them out, or would they just come rushing in? The more afraid you are, the more they materialize, Michael had said.
Great, I thought, realizing that my skin was already starting to prickle with cold sweat; my mouth tasted of iron. Now what?
I didn’t know how well they could see, but I didn’t want to take any chances. Avoiding the windows and leaving all the lights out, I grabbed my housecoat and sneaked into the hallway.
I checked Mom’s room and heard her slow, rhythmic breathing through the door. She was still asleep.
Should I wake her and try to explain what these things were? If I did, if she believed me, it would only frighten her. I’d be willing to bet that two scared people were better than one when it came to materializing hellhounds. I couldn’t take that chance, not when I didn’t know how to fight them. Last time I’d encountered these things, Michael had been there to scare them away.
Something twitched at my throat, the necklace from Fatima thrumming as it had around Damiel. Was he nearby too?
Standing in the hallway, I took deep breaths, fighting the urge to panic. The clicking of the old furnace, the humming of the fridge, and the incessant pelting of rain against the roof were almost deafening. Drowning it all out was the sound of my own breathing, the hammering of my own heart. I wished Michael had told me more about hellhounds. I had no idea how to fight these things and I couldn’t outrun them. But the growling had stopped. Perhaps they were gone.
I went to the kitchen and grabbed a big knife. In the dark, I showered and quickly dressed, all the while listening for any more growls and not hearing any. I was so tense that when my doorbell rang, it was all I could do not to scream.
I checked the door. Michael stood there, shaking some of the rain from his hair.
I forgot all about hellhounds. “What are you doing here?”
“Making sure you get to school alive.” He motioned to the cedars in the far corner of my front yard. Behind them, a lone hellhound paced. It was solid, its wet fur matted. Seeing me, its red eyes flared and held mine, sending a terrible chill up my spine. If I’d gone out alone, it would have attacked.
I stepped back from the door. “I heard it this morning.”
“There was another breach last night,” he said. “Damiel, probably, sending spies. That’s just one of them. There are several.”
“Oh,” I said, swallowing a hard lump that had formed in my throat. Seeing him all serious and protective made my heart hurt. “What about my mom? She’s still asleep.”
“We put sigils around your home. They can’t get in.”
“Sigils?” I said. “What are they?”
“They’re a warding system. Symbols we use to keep lesser demons away.”
My limbs transformed into jelly. “It would have been nice to know about that.”
“We just did them.” He looked a bit sheepish, but it didn’t change his demeanor, which made it clear that he was only here on business. He wore a different jacket—waterproof. Good. I wasn’t ready to give up his other one yet.
My attention wandered back to the hellhound. Its teeth were wet and slimy and its eyes blazed with hellfire. The hairs on my neck bristled from the sheer brutishness of it. Like prey, I couldn’t help but stare. It was a creature of destruction, and without a doubt the most horrifying thing I’d ever seen.
“Stop that,” Michael said.
I flinched. “What?”
“Staring at it.”
“Sorry,” I said. His eyes, crystal clear, flickered with light. Just wanting to stare into them as well—but for different reasons—I looked away. “What about school? Should I stay home?”
“We put sigils around the school a while back. So it’s safe.”
“It didn’t keep Damiel away.”
“Damiel’s no hellhound.” There was an edge to his voice—irritation? Fatigue? “I’ve yet to find a symbol that will keep him out. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
He turned to me and his expression softened. I hoped he was going to say something romantic, like he wanted to be with me, or even that he was wrong to push me away. But he didn’t.
“Well, your home is safe, and your school is safe,” he said briskly. “The trick is getting you from here to there.” A wet tendril of hair fell into his eyes and he raked it back with his hand. “Want to take your chances on the bus?”