I held my breath. If he was going to tell me what happened, I didn’t want him to stop.
“Falling from Grace, I went from being connected to everything to…nothing. The other angels were my family.” Grief emanated from him as he spoke. I knew what it meant to lose a sense of family, but not like this. “For the first time in my long life, I was truly alone, and I never knew how cold that was.” He took a deep, jagged breath, letting it out as he folded his arms across his chest. “After you died, though, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t fight anymore.”
He seemed much too far away, so I got up and wrapped my arms around his waist. He took another labored breath before he let me in, and I stayed there until his breathing smoothed out. I only had pieces of what he went through. He’d told me before that falling didn’t stop, that he had to constantly fight to not continue to fall. Was that how Damiel was able to convince him to choose Hell?
“I know,” I said. “Arielle told me.”
“You’re not the only person I hurt. You were the first, and the fact that I could hurt someone I loved so much…” Wiping his eyes roughly with the back of his hand, he choked out a sob. “How can that ever be okay?”
“Arielle said you’d been tortured.”
He pulled away. “That’s no excuse. I was selfish.”
Now he was torturing himself. It was hard to watch. I needed to let him know the truth.
“You didn’t hurt me. You may have done other things, but you never hurt me.”
“I did,” he insisted.
“No.” I grabbed his elbows, wanting to shake him. “Michael, listen. You think you hurt me, but you didn’t. It’s a lie. That’s why you don’t remember…” My voice trailed off as his eyes became glassy, far away. “Because it didn’t happen.”
“What didn’t?”
“When you first fell, you never hurt me. It wasn’t like that. It was…beautiful.”
He shook his head as though what I’d said had hurt him. “That’s because I enthralled you, Mia. I could have made you do anything.” Taking a step back, he raked both his hands through his hair and let out an exasperated sound. “Don’t you see? Your will wasn’t involved. It was coercion, the same as if I’d drugged you.”
“You didn’t,” I said. Our actions had been motivated by love, but there was no way to prove what I was saying. It was my memory against his.
He took a step closer and backed me against the wall. Pressing himself into me, he caged me there with his arms. I could smell his skin, feel the heat of his body through my clothes, and I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, push him away or wrap my arms around him. When his eyes softened and gazed into mine, everything else around me became quiet and still. A pulse of golden light brushed my skin, and it was like a flame ignited, searing me from the inside.
He slid one of his hands down the wall to touch the curve of my lower back, and my legs trembled. I forgot everything I was thinking. All I could see, all that I wanted, was him. I was dizzy from it. Snaking my arms around his neck, I curled my fingers in his hair. He leaned in, his breath sweet on my tongue, and I tilted my mouth up to his, closing my eyes, expecting his kiss.
The look on his face was a challenge. “You still think I didn’t enthrall you?” he whispered.
I pushed him away angrily, unable to speak. My pulse hammered in my throat and my body shivered from his sudden absence. I tried to think, but my mind reeled. Was it the truth? Had he been enthralling me all along?
He sighed, taking another step back. His eyes were soft, full of love—not the eyes of someone who wanted to hurt me. His breathing was quick, as though I’d affected him, too.
My knees weak, I leaned into the wall for support as I fought to recall my senses. All the times that we’d kissed. They were real. Not like this. He didn’t toy with me. He didn’t have to. “I saw what happened. All of it.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t expect denial.”
I knew what I saw. How could I get him to believe me if he wouldn’t see? “Can’t you just trust me?”
“It’s not like—”
But it was exactly like that. He could trust Damiel’s lies about him, believe the worst about himself, but he couldn’t trust me—that what I felt for him was real. It always was. “Why are you here?” I snapped.
He took a step toward me. “To be with you.”
“Why?” I inched myself along the wall, trying to put distance between us. I still wanted to kiss him. “Why would you want to be with me if you don’t trust me?”
“Look. I know I’ve been pushing you away…”
“I trust you.”
“Last night I lost control, and I know I can’t go there again, but I’ll do everything in my power to be with you. If you’ll have me.”
Of all the times I’d wanted to be near him, they were nothing compared to that moment. He loved me, wanted to be with me. A flush ran all the way up my spine, and it called me toward him. I’d backed up, but he stood less than a foot away; all I had to do was lean into him, show him I accepted him. Everything in me wanted to.
As though he sensed my hesitation, he inched forward, his hands at his sides. “Once Damiel is defeated, it’ll be a lot easier. You’ll see.”
Damiel. He would still have to fight Damiel. The one who killed him, took him to Hell. He’d never win. Not with a guilty conscience over something he didn’t do. If Damiel could use Fiona’s insecurity against her, he could certainly use Michael’s guilt. He’d done it before. I pushed Michael away. “No.”
“No?”
“I can’t be with you if you won’t listen to me.”
“I am listening. You believe—”
“No, I know you didn’t hurt me.” I took another step away. If he couldn’t hear that he hadn’t hurt me, there was no way he could defeat Damiel. It was too dangerous. If Damiel used me as a weapon, Michael didn’t have a chance. “Not unless you can tell me truthfully that you believe you’re innocent.” Otherwise Damiel will defeat you again. He’ll kill you.
I refused to back down. A war of restraint and emotion waged across Michael’s face. Before he spoke, he looked at the fireplace, the mantel, the window. Anywhere but at me. “I do trust you. I just…”
“Don’t trust yourself.”
A hard, brittle feeling settled in my chest. If he didn’t trust himself, he’d be duped by Damiel again, even killed, and I couldn’t let that happen. I loved him too much. I would rather break my own heart than risk his life—not to mention his soul. Nothing I could say would change his mind. So I took a deep breath and said what needed to be said. “Michael. It’s over between us.”
He let out his breath as though I’d punched him. “Over?”
Even in pain, he was beautiful. Tilting his chin back, he gazed at me with eyes that were as clear and blue as a cloudless summer sky, and from that angle he seemed more angelic than ever.
I couldn’t believe what I was doing, but I needed to keep him safe. If Damiel was after me because of how I felt for Michael, I’d have to remove myself from the equation, show Damiel I didn’t care. I would run away, catch a flight to Oakland, and stay with Bill in Berkeley. I had enough in my savings to do it. Damiel wouldn’t expect that. Even if he did, if he got me, that was one thing. I’d be far away and Michael wouldn’t be anywhere near us. He wouldn’t have to feel responsible for what happened this time. He wouldn’t have to die.
I turned toward the fireplace and mustered up the courage to speak. “You should go now.”
“Mia.”
“Leave!” I yelled at him.
He touched my shoulder gently, and the warmth and strength of his hand seeped through the thin fabric of my shirt. “At least let me protect you.”
Despite how cruel I was being, he was still trying to help, which only made it worse. The effervescent fire of his halo enveloped me, bathing us both in golden light. I shook it off and faced him again. I had to be strong. “I don’t want you near me.”