Wicked Ruin (Se7en Sinners Book 3)

  I can feel Legion’s eyes pressing into me as I cross the room and head for the free weights, where Crysis is working on strengthening his busted arm. It’s been less than twenty-four hours, but he looks better. The swelling has gone down in his face, and he seems to have gotten a little color back. Unlike the Se7en, he doesn’t stop what he’s doing to gawk, as if he’s not even surprised that I’ve come to him.

  “Actually, I expected you to come to see me much sooner,” Crysis remarks as I approach. He takes in my shock, then my annoyance, and adds, “Sorry. Force of habit. The connection is a bit amplified now that you’re uncloaked. I’m going to have to teach you to shield yourself.”

  “You can do that?” I ask, sitting on the bench beside him. I want to embrace him and tell him how glad I am that he’s ok, but there are too many eyes on us.

  “Yeah. It’s not too difficult, but it definitely comes in handy when dealing with angels. How are you holding up?”

  I look around the room. The Se7en have resumed their activities but with less gusto. As if it’s all a front for eavesdropping. No doubt they can hear every word we’re saying.

  “Good. Well, as good as can be expected. I still have so many questions.”

  Crysis snorts. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t. I was born Nephilim. Anyone else in your situation would’ve lost their fucking shit already.”

  “Yeah,” I reply distantly. Little does he know, I’m doing my damnedest to hold it all together. “Maybe. I’m still processing.”

  “Well, shit. Ask me anything. You’re the first of your kind, but maybe I can fill in the blanks.”

  “First of my kind?” I frown.

  Crysis blots his sweat-beaded forehead with a towel and whips it over his shoulder. “Your father is Seraph. That’s like a super angel, meaning they’re held to a higher standard. None of them have ever procreated with a human. But of course, your boyfriend would know that. Maybe you should ask him to explain it to you.”

  A low growl sounds from the other side of the gym just as Legion springs to attack Jinn, blocking his staff with a bare forearm.

  “Yeah…I don’t think that’ll happen,” I reply, my voice low.

  Crysis smirks, knowing good and damn well that Legion’s growl was for him. “Oh? Trouble in paradise?” he antagonizes.

  I roll my eyes and shake my head, refusing to respond. Legion has gone through a huge transition, and while my feelings for him haven’t changed, I can’t say that I truly know him anymore. I’m not about to risk a potential confrontation just because Crysis is feeling petty.

  “Look. If you want my help, meet me later. I’m kinda anxious to see what you can do too.”

  I make a face. “See what I can do?”

  “Like I said, you’re the first of your kind. Every Nephilim’s gifts manifest differently, most of them influenced by their angel parentage. You’ve gotta be able to do more than look pretty and bitch about your shitty love life.”

  I flip him the bird and turn on my heel, putting a little extra attitude in my strut towards the door. In all honesty, I’m curious too. I hadn’t even thought about what extra abilities I might have now that Uriel’s cloak has been lifted. But I’m not about to admit that to Crysis. Seems like being betrayed by the Alliance and coming close to death has done nothing for his humility. Not that I’d expect it to.

  I find myself back in Irin’s library, intrigued by what could be contained in those volumes. I find the book marked for the mid-1990s. What if my conception and birth were detailed in here? I mean, I don’t want the gory details, but what if there were clues as to what Uriel had in store for me? Or how he came to Earth and met my mother? Was it really Lucifer’s seduction that made her go crazy, or something else?

  I’m flipping through the handwritten pages, my eyes consumed with the details of events I had only read about in dated articles. It’s not just American history either, meaning there’s a lot to scan through. And while there’s no mention of Uriel yet, I find that I have a ton of ground to cover.

  I’m so consumed by my research that I don’t even realize that I’m not alone until I hear the clang of silverware. I spin around to find Adriel setting down a tray on a small, round table.

  “I thought you could use some breakfast,” she smiles sheepishly, sliding the tray to the middle of the table.

  Well, this is awkward.

  This woman has been inside me for most of my life. Yet, she is a stranger. I don’t feel connected to her. I mean, exactly what is she to me? My friend? My guardian angel? My boyfriend’s overbearing ex? And being the girl that I am, devoid of any kind of filter, I don’t hold back.

  I close the book I’m reading and cross my arms in front of my chest. “What are you doing here?”

  Adriel looks down at the tray filled with freshly baked pastries, juice, and coffee. “Oh. I thought you might be hungry after—”

  “No. What are you doing here? I remember…I remember when they pulled you out of me. If Uriel wanted you so badly that he would risk killing his own daughter, why are you not with him?”

  Adriel nods, looking down at the tray. She takes a seat and pours herself a cup of coffee from the carafe.

  “After they pulled you out, I fought them. With everything I had, I fought to protect you. Uriel could have easily overpowered me, but he didn’t. Instead, for some unknown reason, he and the others fled. I passed out shortly after that.”

  I can’t even dispute that. I remember that warm, blinding light. That had to have been her. And the feeling that someone had collapsed beside me. I remember that too. But it still doesn’t explain why Uriel fled without taking his beloved mate.

  I reluctantly take the seat across from her. I hate to admit it, but I am hungry. And that coffee smells divine.

  I begin to pour myself a cup, and I ask her straight up, “Are you here to spy on us?”

  Adriel actually looks affronted. “No. Absolutely not. I would never… I would never do anything to put you or anyone else in danger.”

  “Then why are you here?” I question again, taking a cheese danish from the bread basket.

  She tips her head to one side. “I don’t think I understand what you mean.”

  “I mean, are you here because you want to help us defeat Uriel? Or are you hoping to rekindle what you once had with Legion?”

  And there it is. That little flicker of shameful truth in her seafoam green eyes. It lasts only half a second; she’s perfected the art of deception. But she can’t fully conceal the gravity of her feelings for Legion. Because love that intense, that all-consuming, is impossible to deny.

  I should know.

  I nod, my lips pressed in a knowing grin, and lean back in my chair. She knows I’m privy to her little secret. How could I not be? When I could literally feel the magnetism between them yesterday. Hell, everyone within a mile could. What they had was enough to make them both fall from Heaven. Adriel can claim she did it to protect me all she wants, but it was Legion she was protecting. It was Legion she was compelled to rescue.

  Adriel sips her coffee, her gaze penetrating, unflinching, just as mine. She sets down her cup and clears her throat. “You have to understand:I loved him before any measure of time existed. Before your world was even a speck of dust floating amongst the stars. Love like that cannot simply be summed up into words. It is infinite.”

  “So you still love him,” I say flatly.

  Adriel shakes her head, but answers, “It’s not that easy, Eden. He is a part of me, even now. What we had…” She smiles, her eyes flicking upward, as if conjuring a distant, happy memory. “It’s not something I could help, even if I tried.”

  “So is that why you’re here? To win him back?” Flaky danish is pulverized to mush between my fingertips.

  “No.” She lifts her chin proudly. “I can say that honestly. Samael—I mean, Legion—made his choice. I would never stand in the way of that.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not so sure,” I mutter, casting my eyes d
ownward.

  Before I can stop it, or even anticipate it, Adriel reaches over and lays a hand on mine, forcing me to meet her soft expression. “He does care for you. I can see it. Even as he is now, you are the one who consumes his every waking thought. You are the one he’s fighting for, even if he’s fighting himself. You have to believe that.”

  I glance down to where her hand rests on mine, hating myself for finding comfort in her touch and in her words. Fuck. She’s his ex. She still loves him. And she’s nice as hell, and I’m pissed that I want to like her. I have to respect her honesty, and truthfully, it makes sense. I may never understand the bond between two angels, but I know how I feel about Legion. And it’s unshakeable, even if he’s avoiding me. Even if he never wants to speak to me again.

  “You have to admit,” Adriel begins, pulling her hand back to grab a scone. “It’s not surprising that I was able to inhabit your soul so easily. You and I aren’t so different from each other.”

  “How do you figure that?” I raise a skeptical brow.

  “Well, aside from having similar taste in men,” she shoots me a teasing grin, “we both know what it feels like to experience tragic loss. I didn’t just lose a lover during the rebellion. I lost brothers. Sisters. And for a long time, I lost my way. I felt dead inside…without purpose. At that point, I was just surviving. And when Uriel took his leave to this world, I thought, finally. A reprieve from him constantly breathing down my neck. I had been waiting for the other shoe to drop for centuries, and then…it did. He created you. And then when Lucifer intervened, I knew I couldn’t just sit around and wait for things to happen. I had to step out on faith and do something.”

  I shrug a shoulder. “I don’t know about faith.”

  “Of course you do,” she replies cheerfully. “Faith is what kept you alive for this long. Not me. Faith is what let you trust a houseful of demon assassins and accept them as your family. You may not have faith in a higher power—not now at least—but you had faith in them.”

  “Isn’t that—I don’t know—sacrilegious to your kind? You’re an angel. They’re demons. Aren’t you all sworn enemies by nature?”

  “Are we?” She tips her head to one side. “When we all want the same thing—to protect the ones we care about? When all we want is to preserve life, human or otherwise? Remember, Eden…even the Devil was once an angel. One of the most beautiful and talented of all, I might add.”

  At just the mention of him, I roll my eyes. “So I’ve heard. Wasn’t he the one who spread that vicious rumor about Legion, just to get him on his side?”

  “He was,” she nods.

  I frown, confused. “And yet you speak of him with fondness?”

  “Forgiveness is powerful, Eden. It is a gift, not for the one who so desperately needs it, but for you. I’ve made my peace with what Lucifer did. He was in a dark, desperate place. He did it, not to hurt Legion, but because he loves him. Selfishly and sometimes foolishly, yes, but he loves him all the same.”

  I shake my head and mutter under my breath, “Fucked up way of showing it.”

  Adriel chuckles at my crass words. “I can’t disagree with that. Lucifer has always been…impulsive to a fault. But in essence, his greatest sin was curiosity. I don’t agree with his methods, but I can understand how doubt can make you do destructive things.”

  I don’t even know what to say to that, so I busy my mouth with chewing a bit of pastry. The way she talks about Lucifer considering what he’s done…what he’s still doing. How can she be so thoughtful? So forgiving? Everything about her seems so…gracious and warm and kind. Which makes insecurity creep into my already muddled headspace. How can I compete with that? With her? I’m a mess, even on my best days. I’m irrational, vindictive. I don’t automatically see the good in people. If anything, it’s just the opposite. I expect people to hurt me. I anticipate disappointment right from the jump.

  And now I know why Legion fell for her. And I can’t understand why he would ever have any interest in me.

  Adriel is everything I am not. With her flowing red hair, soft, feminine features, and unblemished milky skin, she is the picture of purity. It’s not enough that she’s compassionate and emotionally more mature than I’ll ever be. No. She has to be physically perfect as well.

  “The Se7en will be planning to head out for patrol in the next couple days,” she informs me, breaking me out of my self-deprecating reverie. “There are reports of a rise in destruction and violence in the city.”

  My eyes go wide with worry. “Is that safe? With the Seraph still out there with the Redeemer?”

  “There are risks, yes. But humans are dying. And your mother…”

  “She could be in danger too.” I hadn’t considered the thought that Uriel would harm her. He was her husband, even if it was all a lie. She loved him, and when he left, it literally destroyed her. I never realized that he could be planning to finish the job.

  “When are they leaving?”

  “I’m not sure,” she replies. “Legion is calling a meeting this evening to discuss the details.”

  “I want to be there.” Up until this point, I had always felt like one of them. But now…fuck. Maybe they don’t want me in on their plans. Tough shit. My mom is involved, and if anyone should be fighting to get her back, it should be me. Even if she didn’t do the same for me all those years ago.

  Adriel nods, noting the urgency in my tone, and gracefully stands. “I’ll let you get back to your research.” She dips her towards the volume I had been flipping through. “Start with the early 1990s. That’s when your parents met. If there are any clues about what Uriel has planned, you’ll find it before your birth. As you know, he left before then. He would have no reason to stick around after conception.”

  Hearing those words sends a pang of rejection to the hollow of my chest, but she’s right. Phenex told me the act of conception was deliberate. Uriel would have no use for me until much later. Until now.

  I watch Adriel leave the room, still on the fence about her presence, yet oddly comforted by it. I don’t know if it’s because her angel blood calls to mine, or if she’s that convincing, but I do know there’s no way she should be privy to more than me when it comes to what’s going down in my city. Especially since I’m the one at risk of losing more than anyone else.

  After a run in with Kairo to request a more practical wardrobe and a visit with Sister, I head to the gym to meet up with Crysis.

  I’m nervous. I’ve hardly given any thought to what abilities I might hold, and since I know virtually nothing about Uriel, other than the fact that he’s a sociopathic piece of shit, I’m not sure what I’m genetically predisposed to. Shit, if my ability to bend the wills of humans is any indication, what else could I be capable of? And should that power be contained or unleashed upon the world? Self-control has never been my strong suit. Maybe I’m better off not knowing.

  But I can’t think like that. Not if I’m to help get my mom back. Not if I’m to survive whatever fresh hell awaits me.

  So I’m on the raised platform fashioned like a boxing ring, earbuds in, blasting Kendrick Lamar’s “HUMBLE,” and pretending like I’m not freaked the fuck out about tapping into my dormant Nephilim traits.

  Crysis enters the empty space and smiles at me, the gesture too cunning to be encouraging. “Wasn’t sure you’d show.”

  “I told you I would,” I reply, a bit perturbed with his skepticism. I pull out the earbuds and put down the borrowed iPod—another request I had for Kairo.

  “So you’re cool with this?” he questions, setting down his water bottle on a bench. He slides off the sling that supports his busted arm and climbs onto the platform.

  “Cool with what?”

  “The whole Nephilim thing. Seemed like you had more of a penchant for doom and gloom.”

  I roll my eyes. “Nothing’s changed.”

  “But hasn’t it?”

  Before I can respond, he strikes, launching a right hook for my jaw. Some inner i
nstinct kicks in and I catch his fist in my palm, barely registering the power behind it. I’m so stunned by my body’s swift reaction that I don’t even see his left arm swing out, sending his fist straight into my stomach.

  I crumple, catching myself with shaky palms against the ground. “The fuck…” Cough. Gasp. “…was that?”

  “Your reflexes are good,” Crysis remarks. “Good but not good enough. Now, get up.”

  “Fuck you,” I spit.

  “Maybe later. Get the fuck up, Eden.”

  My arms tremble as I struggle to push myself up. Saliva collects in my mouth, the telltale signs of approaching vomit. Deep breaths. I blink away hurt, frustrated tears, refusing to admit weakness.

  “Good girl,” Crysis notes, as I climb to my feet without an ounce of grace.

  “I’m not a fucking puppy, and I’m not your girl,” I grit, letting his condescension fuel my ire. “Don’t do that shit again.”

  “You think your opponent is going to announce when they’ll strike? This isn’t a movie, Eden. No one is delivering long ass monologues before they kill you. You need to be ready.”

  “I fucking know that,” I bite back, my voice hoarse from the blow. And I do. I need to be ready to fight. And I’m not talking meet-me-after-school type of fighting. I need to be prepared enough to potentially take on an archangel. An ancient being billions of years older and infinitely stronger than me.

  Fuck.

  I get my legs up under me again, not 100% stable, but not quite shaking like a leaf, and put my fists up in a defensive stance. Crysis laughs like the asshole loon that he is.

  “And that’s supposed to do…what?”

  I raise my fists higher, blocking my face. “I’m not about to let you kick my ass all around this gym.”

  He drops his hands, completely confident that I couldn’t possibly get the drop on him. “Baby, had I’d been full blood angel, let alone Seraph, your ass would have been kicked five minutes ago. You think they’re battling with brute force?”

  “Then why the hell did you hit me?” I shout with all the might my hoarse voice can muster.