Endless thanks to the awesome JoVersify for helping me a ton with this chapter and brainstorming!
When Issa opened her eyes, she was hanging from the ceiling by her arms. It was raining feathers again.
Everything hurt.
She coughed and spat out blood.
Finally, her dream angel said. I thought you'd never come to.
"What happened?" she asked hoarsely.
I took care of Lilith's army.
"What..." She gazed up at the shackles, which glowed the unnatural gold of Edenium. Her wrists felt burned. "What did you do?"
I saved your precious Garden.
She stared at the Edenium shackles again. "So why am I in chains?"
Someone sabotaged the gates and they think it's you.
"Why?" Issa asked, bewildered. Tanya had pushed her. Why would they think it was her when dozens of people saw Tanya push her?
Why do you think? He sounded impatient. I used angelfire. I bled gold through you. They think you're an angel.
Issa felt woozy and she coughed again, closing her eyes. "You're… I saw your memories."
Then you understand how ridiculous it would be if you died here. Free yourself.
She looked up at her shackles. "How am I supposed to free myself from Edenium?"
It isn't burning you. I think you can figure the rest out. The feather rain disappeared as though he was done with her.
"Fucker," Issa muttered. With the last of her strength, she straightened herself and stared up at the shackles. Her dream angel was right—Edenium didn't burn her. She frowned at the burn marks on her wrists. Rosalie had said Edenium only burned full angels and she wasn't a full angel.
"Did you get me burned?" she asked, but her dream angel didn't answer.
She reached up and gave the shackles a hard pull.
They didn't give but they did chafe her already abraded wrists. She swore, then swung herself up, wrapping one ankle around the chain and holding herself upside down to study it more closely. Despite the extraordinary material, the metalwork was shoddy and weak. Her angel dress fluttered all of a sudden, and Edvardiel's gun from the metro slipped out of it. Issa managed to catch it between her bound hands.
"Thanks," she said to the dress.
Hoping that there was at least one bullet inside, she took careful aim.
Bang.
The shackles fell apart and she fell to the floor, the breath knocked out of her. Her wrists throbbed. There was still the issue of the Edenium bars of her jail cell, which seemed far sturdier.
Issa was dizzy from the blood loss and the manoeuvre with the chains left her winded. She staggered towards the bars and felt for a weakness but there was none. She looked around. Where the hell was she anyway? She knocked on the flooring and realised it was also lined with Edenium. A closer look revealed a thin golden layer of something that looked suspiciously like dried angelblood. Was this a holding cell for angels?
"Fucking sadistic Edenians," she muttered.
"Now you realise," a familiar voice said. Issa looked through her Edenium prison to see Rosalie gazing down at her. "You look like shit."
Issa clutched the bars. "Is Edvardiel okay?"
Rosalie snorted. "You should worry about yourself."
Issa held up her wrists to show her broken chains and Rosalie arched her brows, looking mildly impressed.
"How is he?" Issa demanded once more, leaning against the bars. The exhaustion was getting to her.
"Lover boy's out cold after closing the gates and nearly bleeding out. But yeah, he's fine."
Issa sagged with relief. "Great."
Rosalie cleared her throat. "In case you haven't realised, half of Eden is out for your blood and you're in a holding cell meant for angels."
"I know." She shot Rosalie a look. "But you're here to bust me out, aren't you?"
Rosalie put a hand on her hip. "Depends. Are you an angel?"
Issa sighed. She held up her chafed wrists, showing Rosalie the scarlet blood. "Do you want to see my back too? I don't have wings, in case no one noticed. I'm not an angel."
"Didn't look like it when you were bleeding gold and blasting the demons with angelfire."
"I thought it's common knowledge that Nephilim have powerful glory."
"Maybe," Rosalie said. "But you have the exact same power as the seraph who tried to kill Eden."
"Excuse me?" Issa said incredulously. That made for some very pressing questions for her dream angel. She should find a new name for him, considering he was very real and not just part of her dreams. Eventually, she had to figure out what he was doing in her head too.
But the feather rain wasn't returning and she had no idea how to summon him. All she wanted to do now was close her eyes.
"Well, fine." She waved Rosalie away. "Just leave me here. Edvardiel will get me out once he wakes up."
"Well, I'd love to, sweetheart, but everyone knows Eden's son is head over heels for you. Some of them are planning to interrogate and er… unalive you before that," Rosalie said. "So until we figure out who sabotaged the gates, you'd better get up and come with me."
She jangled some keys and Issa noticed that they were bloody.
"How many people did you unalive to get here?" she asked, as Rosalie unlocked her cell.
"None." Rosalie wrapped an arm around her waist and heaved her to her feet. "I just knocked out your unwelcoming committee. They're grieving Ezekiel's death."
Issa's stomach dropped. "Ezekiel's dead?"
Rosalie pressed her lips together. "It looked like a demon's work but I doubt it. Ezekiel is smarter than that. I think he figured out who sabotaged the gates and died for it."
Issa's head swum. "And Alice?" She was almost afraid to ask.
Rosalie's expression turned unexpectedly hard. "She's fine. Anyway, let's get you out of here." She pocketed the keys and began to drag Issa along. Issa did her best to match the other woman's pace but found herself staggering and almost falling over several times. Still, Rosalie soldiered through, bearing her weight without complaint.
"Why are you helping me?" Issa asked, as she nearly tripped them both up.
"I told you. You're one of the few people I can stand in Eden," Rosalie said.
Maybe Issa had spent too much time in Hell but she couldn't help wondering what Rosalie really wanted from her. No one helped anyone unless there was something in it for them. Maybe Rosalie was an empath too. There seemed to be too many of them around her lately—the word itself was starting to sound strange to her. No one outside of Hell seemed to use it.
"Sweet of you," she panted, as she forced her feet to move, her sweat and blood drenching them both. "Sure you don't want to leave me here before they come after you too?"
Rosalie shot her a look. "You think I'm doing this alone? Not everyone in Eden wants you dead. Many are on your side. Jacob. Jessica. Even that scaredy-cat Paul is sticking his neck out for you. They're making a commotion outside as we speak."
Issa blinked.
"I… I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything until we get you out." Rosalie readjusted her grip around her waist. "Now, move it."
Issa's heart squeezed. She'd wanted so very badly to belong in Eden. To know that anyone in Eden cared enough to help break her out….
"You're glowing," Rosalie said.
Issa looked down at herself. She was glowing brightly enough that the torches lining the underground passage paled in comparison. "How long do we have to walk?" she rasped.
"Straight down and left." Rosalie's tone was offhand, but Issa could tell they had to move quickly, especially if the others were creating a diversion outside.
Her legs were shaking. Joy. She closed her eyes and thought about Edvardiel soaring in the air and the warmth of holding Alice alive and well in her arms. Power rushed underneath her skin and she felt her body grow lighter. She wasn't flying but she was no longer leaning against Rosalie like a sack of potatoes.
"All right," she said, doing her best to hold onto the happy thoughts. "Let's get out of here."
They moved much faster now that she wasn't slowing them both down.
Rosalie led them through a couple of turns that were definitely more than straight down and left and then up several flights of stairs. Issa's glow sputtered at the last flight and she faltered and slipped. Footsteps and shouting echoed outside. Rosalie's shadow danced in the torchlight, her eyes glowing faintly with her glory as she hurried back and wrapped Issa's arm over her shoulders. Issa had almost forgotten that Rosalie, too, was descended from seraphim.
"Just a couple of steps," Rosalie said, pulling her up. "Come on. You can do this."
Issa was so, so tired.
"Don't make us do all this for nothing," Rosalie said.
Issa's legs wouldn't move. More blood dripped onto the ground and she wondered vaguely how injured she was. Spots clouded her vision and she could barely feel her limbs.
"Just leave me here," she said, as the footsteps came closer.
Rosalie swore and dragged Issa deeper into the shadows, pulling out a gun from her belt.
Issa's stomach churned at the sight of the weapon. They died enough at the hands of demons. There was no need for humans to turn on each other, least of all for her.
Unsteadily, Issa put her hand on Rosalie's. "Don't do it."
"Shut up." Rosalie shook her hand off and cocked the gun, every muscle in her body tensing as the footsteps came closer. Issa could already smell gunpowder and hear the sickening sound of blood spattering to the ground. The footsteps came closer and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see—
"Jacob!" Rosalie sounded relieved.
"I thought you guys might be stuck," Jacob said. "Sleeping Beauty didn't look too good when they dragged her away."
He stepped forward and Issa felt herself being lifted up.
"My god, she's shaking," Jacob said. "What did they do to her?"
"Nothing. I got to her before they did." Rosalie stowed the gun away. "I need to look at her wounds. Where's Paul?"
"He led them away," Jacob said. He looked around as shouting reverberated in the distance. "Say, do you think we should take her beyond the gates? What if someone gives her location away? No one would think to look beyond the gates."
"Are you out of your mind?" Rosalie said. "We're demon fodder out there."
"We're Eden fodder in here," Jacob said. "At least the demons aren't going to torture us."
Issa wasn't too sure about that.
"Too risky," Rosalie said. "There are probably demons camping outside as we speak. Besides, we only need to hide until Eden's son wakes up. We can keep her safe that long."
Rosalie led them through a beaten path through the trees. The light and the shouting grew further and further away until they walked almost in complete darkness. Neither Rosalie nor Jacob seemed to have a problem with seeing in the dark.
"Are you taking us to the gates after all?" Jacob asked.
"No," Rosalie said, as they turned another corner. "I'm taking us to Eden's old home."
Jacob frowned. "Isn't Eden's home in the centre?"
"Her new one is, yes. But she had another one, right next to the gates."
Issa turned to see an abandoned hut that looked very much like Eve's old home, except this one seemed strangely idyllic, with wildflowers blooming in the garden and quaint little ivy covering the walls.
A powerful wave of nostalgia and heartache swelled through her.
"You're back," Issa muttered, as the feather rain swam in her vision once more. The fire in the feathers roared until angelfire was all she could see.
She was back in her dream angel's memories.
Her dream angel once stood at the very steps of this house. It was raining and a woman who looked a lot like Edvardiel was at the door, careless of the way the rain dripped down from her hair.
Smoke rose from the hut. It didn't come from the chimney but from the roof.
"You nearly burned the house down," the dark-haired woman said, staring. "All because I told you to—"
"You tell me many things, Eden," her dream angel drawled. "I can hardly remember half of it."
Eden's eyes flashed. "You think this is funny? Is it so hard for you to show that you care? Do you even care?"
A sudden, inexplicable anger ripped through her dream angel's being at the accusation.
"Do I not come to you like a dog every time you summon me?" he asked sharply. "I do not answer to Michael this way. I do not think I will even answer to God this way."
Eden's face was a mask for hurt. "Don't you want to see me? Doesn't our time together make you happy at all?"
He laughed. "You ask me to feel things I can barely understand."
"I'm not asking you to feel them, I'm asking you if you feel them."
"Ah, but you want me to feel them. I know you well enough for that, my sweet, lovely Eden." He gentled his voice in the way he knew she liked and made as though to touch her.
But she only stepped away.
"Don't."
Angelfire flared in his veins for what had to be the umpteenth time this week. He clamped down on the erratic anger, chilling it so that his words came out ice-cold. "Everything you ask of me… What you want is a human man, and that I am not." She was asking too much of him. He was bending and bending until one day, he would break.
"You're right," she said, folding her hands at her belly in a protective motion that should've sent alarm bells ringing in his mind. But he hadn't noticed. His seraph senses felt approaching death but not new life—that gift belonged to the guardian angels.
He also hadn't noticed the stiff decisiveness in her words. Her acquiescence quelled his fire and he was playful once more.
"Finally," he said. "I thought we would argue ourselves to death." He looked at the dying fire on the roof, his amusement fading. Even in battle, his glory had never been this volatile.
"Yes," she agreed, following his gaze. "There's no need for that."
She blinked and a tear escaped from her eye.
He tilted his head. "What's wrong, lovely?"
"Isn't it obvious, sweetfire?" The nickname rolled off her tongue with ironic bitterness. "We're not suited."
"That was obvious to me from the start," he said.
Eden's features froze, but she seemed resigned. "Then there's nothing more to discuss, fire of my heart." Her voice was soft. "It's time for us to part ways."
The scene faded.
Issa blinked, and she was in a bed, her body covered in bandages. Everything hurt. The feather rain was still there, except it seemed subdued.
"So Eden dumped you," she said.
It would be nice if you saw your own memories instead of mine, her dream angel said dryly.
"Yeah," Issa said. "It really would." She didn't try to sit up as she stared at the ceiling. "When did you find out about Edvardiel? Since Eden was obviously trying to keep him a secret from you."
Why don't you focus on getting rid of your father instead of asking me these supremely nosy questions? Michael is a far more pressing issue than yours truly, I promise you.
Issa shrugged as she looked down at her bandages. "I'm incapacitated." For once in her life, she just wanted to lay in bed and rest. And she really didn't want to think of that arch-asshole as her father—a fact that was becoming harder and harder to ignore.
Her dream angel scoffed. You Nephilim give up so easily. You're soft. Weak. I wonder why the Seraphim bother getting rid of you.
"Whatever, guy-who-got-dumped," she said.
Her dream angel was silent for so long that she thought he wasn't going to answer. When he finally spoke, he sounded vexed.
You're almost as insufferable as your parents.