Finally, he stood and stretched, poking his head above the top of the bush. It was probably around midday. Nothing stirred. It was eerily quiet. Unnaturally so. Even the semi-constant sulfur-tainted breeze was stilled.
Pulling out worn leather gloves from one pocket, he sat down again and carefully put them on. Only then did he dig into his pack. His rummaging produced a clothed wrapped bundle. Gently, he unwrapped it. It was an old, leather bound bible. The bible had once belonged to his master, Hikari, and other than his swords and the silver cross he wore around his neck, it was his most treasured possession. The gloves made reading it difficult and clumsy but he really didn’t have an option. It was either that or be subjected to constant burning pain. His naked flesh against a bible always had that effect.
He started reading, picking a page at random, lost in the words and comforted by messages contained within. So absorbed he was, that he failed to notice that he was no longer alone. Abruptly, he became aware of the presence. He was about to react with his normal physical intensity when he realized who it was. With trembling hands, trying not to rush and ruin the moment, he gently closed his bible and re-wrapped it, placing it carefully back in his pack.
Standing, he moved out of the bushes and scanned around eagerly. She was standing about ten feet away. He rushed towards her and she opened her arms to him. They embraced and despite his enthusiasm, he was careful not to crush her to him too tightly, mostly for fear of damaging her wings. They kissed quickly, passionately, but all at once she was pushing him away.
“Don’t,” she said, moving a step backwards and looking at her feet.
He closed the gap between them and attempted to draw her to him again. She pushed his hands away. Frustration and panic filled him in equal measure.
“What’s wrong?” he pleaded. “What is it?”
“I had to see you one more time,” she was whispering now. “I couldn’t stay away, even though I know I should.”
“What do you mean?” he was almost shouting, his mind whirling in confusion.
Her eyes met his. “I’m not allowed to see you anymore,” she said, so quietly he wasn’t sure that he’d heard correctly. Tears were streaming out of the corners of her eyes, running down her perfect cheeks.
“What?” he roared, much more loudly than he’d intended. Aimi took a step backwards, her eyes suddenly wide with fear. With a physical effort, he restrained himself. “I don’t understand,” he said, sounding calmer than he felt.
“It’s because of what we did,” she said, mournfully. The look of sadness on her face was killing him. He wanted to make it go away. He would do anything to make her smile again.
“You mean, because of our night together?” he asked.
“Exactly,” she said. “Demons and angels were never meant to… mate. It’s forbidden. When they sent me to you, I don’t think they imagined for one second we’d do what we did.”
“But… but it was so right,” he spluttered. “How can something like our love be forbidden? How can it be wrong?”
“It doesn’t get any worse than this. It’s probably the worst crime there is. It was bad enough when the Grigori started having physical relationships with mortal women, let alone this.”
“But I’m not even a full demon,” Sam protested. He didn’t get it. He really didn’t get it. Why would they do this to him? It wasn’t fair. It was never fair.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “They’ve made their decision. I can’t see you ever again. They consider this a huge favor just allowing me to say my goodbyes in person. In fact, I’m lucky apparently that I’m still an angel, lucky that I wasn’t cast down into the pit.”
“I wish you would’ve been,” said Sam hotly. “At least that way, I could see you when I liked.”
“Don’t say that, Sam. I know you’re angry but we have to face up to what we’ve done. I hate it just as much as you but I can’t do anything else.” She began to sob in misery.
He couldn’t resist. He pulled her to him. They stayed like that for a long time, until she stopped crying.
“We’ll find a way out of this,” he said. “I’ll talk to Gabriel. She’ll understand. She’ll help.”
Aimi broke his embrace immediately. “Who do you think told me I couldn’t see you anymore? It was Gabriel and the other archangels who made this decision.”
Sam was so shocked, his legs suddenly felt weak, almost giving way on him. He stumbled, the betrayal falling heavily upon him. Gabriel. She was meant to be his ally. Why had she done this to him? Suddenly, everything his father said was starting to make sense. Could he really trust those in Heaven?
Aimi put her tiny arms around him again. “Goodbye, my love. I’ll watch over you. I’ll never stop watching you or loving you. We’ll always be together that way.”
“No!” he said, pleading with her, desperate. He put his arms around her and squeezed, imagining in his desperation that if he hugged her tightly, she would never be able to leave him — never be able to escape. Somehow, she still slipped out of his grasp. Even when she was human, she’d been hard to hold on to. Before he could move, she was airborne, her beautiful wings outstretched.
“I love you, Sam. I will always love you.”
“No!” he screamed at her. “Don’t leave me. I’ve only just got you back. You can’t leave. It’s not fair!” But it was too late. She was gone, lost in the clouds.
For a moment, he stood completely still, frozen in grief and despair. Then with anger so intense it made him feel cold, he drew his swords. He attacked the bush with more fury than he thought he was capable of, reducing it to scattered twigs. As he hacked at it, a low keening sound emerged from his throat. There were dead trees in the distance, the beginnings of the forest he had avoided. He sprinted towards them, chopping at the first one he reached with strokes so powerful they almost severed the thick trunks with one blow. The tree toppled. He ignored it and moved onto the next one and the next and the next, more effective than the most efficient lumberjack. As he hewed, he began to sob, the first time he had truly cried. He’d only cried once before, when Aimi had first been taken by the Rapture, but this was worse, much worse. Hikari had told him that demons didn’t possess tear ducts and it was true. As then, he cried tears of blood, the scarlet liquid once again streaming down his face.
They ran down his sweatshirt and jeans, staining them. He didn’t care. He kept hacking away at the trees. Blisters formed on his hands. The blisters tore and bled. The blood ran down his hands and on to his blades so that every time he struck a tree, crimson would splatter over the dead wood.
His rage was undiminished, his swords unblunted. It would take more punishment than this to wreck the edge of his blades. He chopped on, tireless, fueled by his anger. Hours passed… not that Sam was aware of the passage of time. Later, much later, he realized that he must have temporarily lost his mind.
As night fell, the sound of chopping could still be heard reverberating amongst the dead trees of the forest.
When he came to his senses, he was standing in a wasteland of dead wood. It was dawn. At first, he couldn’t remember what had happened. He blinked a couple of times against the morning light. His swords were still in his hands but his hands hurt. He didn’t know why.
Hundreds of trees lay shattered about him as if a team of lumberjacks had worked furiously for a week. Sam looked down at his swords. With trembling hands, he raised them to eye level. Both were blunted and notched. How did that happen? Swords like his were not damaged easily. And then it came rushing back to him. Aimi. She was gone and he had been betrayed. He staggered and fell to one knee.