Shadows in the Silence
Page 75

Mom threw her hands up in defeat. “All right! Fine. Make your own bowl. This one’s mine. Keep your grubby hands out of it.”
I looked back to my dad. “You’re both terrible at watching scary movies. Dad, seriously. Put the paper down and turn off the lamp. You can’t get scared with the lights on.”
“Who says we want to get scared?” he asked, giving me a serious look.
“Why else would you want to watch a scary movie? Not for the gore, I hope.” I grimaced. “Then I’d really worry about you.”
He laughed. “No need to worry. You know how weak my stomach is.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a shadow passing by the window outside. I squinted curiously and stood, watching to see if the shadow appeared in the next window. In a few seconds, it did.
“I’ll be right back,” I said distantly and moved toward the front door. I turned the knob and pushed open the heavy door, peering into darkness. Crickets chirped and I heard tires on the road a few houses down. Across the large, wooded lawn, my closest neighbor’s house was lit up.
Other than the usual, there was nothing outside.
Certain I’d just imagined what I’d seen, I went back inside and closed the door behind me. My breath caught in my throat when I saw the winged man standing in the living room between my parents.
I cried out, but my parents didn’t seem to notice him or me. I ran to them, darting around a column that broke my line of sight. When I passed the column, I saw that the man had vanished. I slid to a stop and whirled around, searching for him. That’s when he reappeared, standing only a few feet from me in the kitchen. I gasped and jumped back into the counter bar, nearly knocking over a stool. I caught my balance with a hand on the counter and stared at the man. He said nothing, but only watched me in return, and after a moment, I remembered his face.
He looked different—handsome, youthful, with bright, gleaming golden eyes beneath soft, silver hair. There were no horns or armor or bones that looked like children’s bones. His wings weren’t quite white, but more like the color of sunlight on snow, so unlike the charred and broken stalks I’d seen sprouting from his back last time we met. He appeared as he had when he was still an angel of the Lord.
“Sammael?” I asked, breathless.
He smiled, showing no teeth, only a widening split in his face that held no sincerity or emotion behind the expression. Soulless. “You remember me.”
“But you fell.” I shook my head, confused. “Am I dreaming?”
“Yes,” he replied. “And yes.”
Things began to add up. I glanced into the living room, where my parents had just been sitting, but they were gone. Of course they’d be gone now that I knew I was dreaming. My parents were dead. This night was not real. It wasn’t even a memory. Strangely though, I could still smell the popcorn.
“You’ve come into my dream,” I said, and looked back at Sammael. “Why do you look like this?”
He stepped forward, his gait unnaturally smooth and effortless. The cloak he wore flowed at the ankles of his lightweight boots. Beneath the cloak was a high-collared soldier’s jacket lined with gold fastenings and small jewels awarded to him for merit in battle. “My form in the physical world frightens you,” he replied. “I thought it would be wise to appear to you as you knew me before Azrael cast me out, because I do not wish to frighten you tonight. I wish to talk.”
“Why? You’re only going to try to destroy me and send your thugs to kill more of the people I love. I have nothing to say to you except that I will destroy you first.”
His face did not change, but his liquid gold eyes flickered. “Why bother to fight the inevitable? I know what you’re doing. Collecting your trinkets and magic spells. You have the Pentalpha ring, this my spies have warned me of, but do not make the mistake of believing that since you possess it, I cannot take it. I will find you, Gabriel.”
“You’ll be too late.”
“You’re wrong in believing that you can defeat me once you ascend,” he said. “But at least you admit that your human body is a weakness.”
“It’s not a weakness,” I shot back, gritting my teeth. I wanted to lunge for him, but it would be pointless to attack him in a dream. “This body just needs more power. I can’t beat you as just a human girl or just an archangel, but combined? I will make deli slices out of you. You’re afraid of the power my human soul will add to my unbound archangel strength. You know that’s true, otherwise you wouldn’t be here trying to scare me into giving up. I won’t give up. That’s something you should know too. Whatever you’re here to do, tempt me to the dark side, or whatever—it won’t work.”
He grew closer to me, leaning over me, and his nose brushed my neck, inhaling slowly. “I’m not here to seduce you with flesh,” he said, his breath hot against my skin. “I can offer you what you want, the very thing your existence depends on: power.”
“Everything I have in me and everything I will gain I will use to destroy you.”
He drew the backs of his fingers along the line of my jaw, but the feather-soft touch only felt like the brushing of flies’ wings against my skin. I shivered in disgust. “You won’t want to,” he crooned into my ear. “Not after you’ve had a taste of what I can offer you.”
“You’re right,” I chirped. “I’ll probably barf. I’m getting indigestion just thinking about it.”