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Rated: 18+ · Novel · Romance/Love · #2015562
A lusty angel falls victim to a powerful demon. What could go wrong? [WIP]
Chapter 1

Letting out a soft, satisfied moan, Coriel’s eyes rolled back and closed in pleasure as she felt her auburn hair whip violently at her face.

She was falling from the skies at breakneck speed and let the intoxicating adrenaline build up in her veins. It was cold on Manusya today; the cool air was already giving her goosebumps. The feeling of the wind through her golden feathers was exquisite; just the rush she needed before being thrown into combat. She drew in a deep, focused breath and opened her eyes just enough to allow the battlefield below to come into view without drying them out in the harsh wind. Just as the Archangels had described, demons were spewing onto the earth below like a geyser. The angel smirked wickedly as she watched their horned, black, muscular shapes begin to surround their cowering summoners. This was just how she liked her prey: demonic, reeking of evil, and appearing en masse. Thoughts of rending their flesh and bathing the soil in their sticky, black blood only beckoned her to descend faster.

The summoners of these demons were a group of gray-hooded humans that had drawn a pentagram they’d had no real business creating. According to Coriel’s leader just before they were dispatched, the humans’ initial goal of summoning a demon or two had accidentally sprouted hundreds. That, at least, she could confirm from the skies. There were over two hundred of the feeble-looking creatures crawling out of that pentagram and surrounding their beckoners with curiosity. Oh, humans… It was sad to Coriel that they would never realize the full extent to which the Heavens would go to protect them from destroying themselves.

The angel turned her attention to the crudely-drawn pentagram: a circle that looked more like an egg with a wobbly-lined five-pointed star inside. It was carved into the ground with what must have been a large branch or staff. The human who’d drawn it wasn’t much for smooth, accurate lines, she noted; certainly not the most perfect of candidates to be drawing these sorts of evil shapes in the first place. In the spaces between each tip of the star were smaller circles with different symbols drawn inside them. The angel had studied these characters at length in the Heavens so she would always be prepared for what was summoned. She sounded out the marks one at a time to herself as she continued to plummet and rolled her eyes when she saw the mistake they’d made.

It was amazing, what one line or squiggle out of place would do. Instead of writing the symbol for “Great One,” they’d written “great numbers.” Well, they were certainly getting that. As was the case with many demon summonings she’d seen, humans seemed to never bother to write the symbol for sending their handiwork back to the Underworld when they were done with whatever business they had with them. Now, that’s what she and at least fifty of her brethren were there to take care of: to kill these hellish beasts and send them back to the Lake of Souls where they belonged.

The skies were saturated with falling angels as they soared closer to earth like bees to a honeycomb; their wings a collage of gold, silver, and white depending on their rank. Coriel was proud to represent the golden color in the sky, the mark of an Erelim angel; the most elite of the angel warriors. She was created by the Gods for the sole purpose of protecting humans from the filthy demons that dwelled far below their world. While the skies grew dark with the winged beings, the ground grew even darker as the evil creatures continued to hemorrhage through the portal opened by the pentagram. Coriel did a quick calculation: by the time she could destroy the circle there would be at least three hundred demons through the gate. That made six demons to every one angel; nothing they couldn’t handle. These were all Lesser demons, the weakest kind, and all without a leader of higher rank in sight… yet.

“Tarael, north!” Coriel commanded to a fellow golden-winged Erelim and pointed to the tip of the pentagram. He and his team were excellent at making impenetrable walls perfect for blocking any demons from escaping into the forest that laid closest to where she was pointing. She made more strategic choices for the other leaders in their company, changing almost every direction they’d been given from their superiors in the Heavens. Coriel always found flaws in the commands of their immediate supervisor, Pahaliah. She was convinced she could do a better job; turn this war around faster… and she was intent on proving it.

The other Erelim angels hesitated for a moment and Coriel could see them steal unsure glances at one another, but eventually fell into the formation she set. She nodded in satisfaction before throwing her hands to her sides with a slap and folding her large wings against her back to dive toward the ground faster than the rest. She aimed for the center of the pentagram, and just as she was about to touch ground, flipped so her feet met the ground with force. Ripples of earth spread in all directions, destroying the symbol and closing the portal.

Coriel smirked as the team she was leading fell to earth around her. She quite liked the sight of them landing and beginning to engage in battle with her at the center of it all. The power-hungry angel turned to Diniel, a silver-winged Taqaphim and her second in command. She tilted her chin in the direction of the careless humans. “Get them to safety,” she commanded.

“Yes, Coriel,” he saluted without hesitation. “May the Light of the Gods bask us in its glory.”

“Glory be to Wodan,” she responded, and he was off, grabbing a few of her lower-ranking, white-winged Malakhim along the way to assist.

It was evident that Coriel was a tiny little thing when standing before the wide, destructive demons, and even other battle angels, but what she lacked in height she made up for with all the confidence and determination in the Heavens. She reached behind her and grabbed at seemingly empty air but extracted a very real, very sharp blade from its invisible sheath. The rest of the angels surrounding her had already drawn their weapons and many had began engaging in combat. “Glory be to Wodan!” she cried again, louder this time so the rest of her squad could hear it, and began hacking down the demons that threatened the world she was sworn to protect.

Coriel’s sword looked massive for such a small woman. Made of an otherworldly steel that never dulled, its hilt was the length of her forearm and the blade was at least two thirds of her height. It looked deceptively heavy as well, with decorative hand guards in the shape of wings and a metal cross that held the blade. It looked like it could have at least equaled her body weight, yet it was nothing but a glimmering blur in the sunshine as she easily sliced through demon after feeble demon. Each time the sword slid through one of these lanky, black shadows, she watched its equally black blood spill from its body like oil until the ground around her was so slick she could hardly stay on her own two feet. But she wanted more; so much more. More blood. More death.

“To me!” Coriel shouted as she felt her subordinates wading too far away from her in the endless sea of demons. They were quick to take a few steps back toward the angel in the center of the destroyed pentagram. She could have let them continue into the crowd, really… this was just a hapless performance on the part of the demons and her warriors were holding their own. Sure, the angels were a bit winded, but they were in much better shape than their enemy; their lungs weren’t sliced open like many of the demons’ now were. She almost felt bad for them and their growing desperation in this war. They were hungry to kill angels, ravenous even, no matter how they came about it… even if it meant dying by the hundreds to claim a small handful of the low-ranking Malakhims.

A burning pang in her chest told her the demons had just taken the lives of two Taqaphim among their Malakhim kills, but all Erelim were still in the fight. Coriel was disappointed there were no higher-ranked demons that would present their most elite with more of a challenge. For now, the angel would have to make do with the fodder she was presented with.

A Lesser began charging at her on all fours like a bull with its long, twisted horns tilted forward and aiming for her chest. With each leap toward her its large, clawed hands dug deep into the earth and sent lifeless bodies flying, making them spiral into the air like rag dolls. As it came closer Coriel met one if its bony horns with her blade and sliced the wretched appendage off at its base, causing the beast to howl wildly in pain as it whipped its head to the side and fell hard against the ground. She let out an annoyed growl as she felt its other horn graze her thigh as the beast went down. Angrily, Coriel plunged her blade into the back of the Lesser, piercing through bone and muscle until she reached its heart. The demon choked on the blood that spilled from its mouth before its dark red eyes began to go blank.

The rest of the battle seemed to fall away and leave her alone with the struggling abomination. With her hands tightly gripping the hilt of her sword, Coriel used all of her weight to push down and sever even more of the demon’s insides. She took a moment to watch the beast die with twisted satisfaction. Vile creature; how dare it maim such a perfect creation from the Gods? She chuckled viciously to herself as she witnessed the Lesser draw its last breath, then wrenched her blade free of its mutilated body.

Drawn to Coriel’s hatred and desire for vengeance, two more Lessers turned their attention away from their white-winged targets to focus on her. When they saw her with her back to them, leaning her blade into the fallen creature, the pair quickly whirled around and took the opportunity to descend on her.

Coriel snapped out of her reverie and back to the battle just as her new attackers were three leaps behind her. She heard the panicked shouts of a Malakhim archer, felt his horror within her own chest, and swung her blade around just in time to slice one demon completely in half at the torso while several arrows sank into the back of the other. The split corpse went rolling, spraying black demon blood all over Coriel’s wings and clothing. She quickly covered the open wound at her thigh to keep the demon blood from seeping inside and tainting her. Her sky-blue eyes met the bright yellow-green ones of her Malakhim savior from across the field of fallen demons and she nodded her thanks. He responded in kind before both turned away from each other and continued to put their weapons to good use.

With loud, commanding shouts, the angels were giving a swift end to this battle. Adrenaline was coursing through Coriel, making her heart pound. The high she got from killing these beasts was the sweetest of drugs. There was one thing, however, that the angel could not deny: she enjoyed looking at the muscular, dark, hard bodies of these creatures. There was something so deliciously bad— well, everything about them was bad, really— but creatures not made in the Heavens should not have been so delectable to look at. She noticed their hard, corded muscles beneath their dark skin twist and tense with each swing at her, the dark reds, oranges and yellows of their eyes like a piece of hell brought to the surface with them. Those long, dangerous tails. Oh, what she could do with a tail like that…

She shook off the thoughts as blood spilled once again onto her angelic armor. Focus, Coriel, focus. She would not let her lust be her weakness. No angels, not even the Gods themselves, were purely without sin; they just knew to keep each other in check and had a myriad of roles and hierarchies to ensure such. Someday they would return to a world of purity— that’s what they were fighting for, after all— but it was these demons, these deliciously attractive beasts, that had tainted their first God and His angels in the first place. Mild admiration for her opponents was once again replaced by white-hot hatred as her bloodlust overtook her, causing her to roar out a battle cry as she continued slaughtering Lesser after pathetic Lesser.

As the battle, pathetically in favor of the angels, came to a close, she gripped one of the remaining devils by the horn and jerked its back so forcefully against her chest she knocked the wind out of it before pressing her sword to its throat. It dripped with the taint-scented blood of at least two dozen of its brethren. “Who is your Knight?” she hissed into its ear, a statement more than a question, only to be met by a more genuine hiss of a voice in response.

“The All-Mighty Zzzzzzagan!” If there was one thing demons never lied about, it was to whom their allegiance was with among one of the four Demon Knights of the Underworld. “He sssends his regardsss to the Erelim; told usss to tell you that the next time he encountersss your kind that he will tie them up and have hisss way with them.” The filthy beast followed that up with a colorful description of his own opinion about angels and where they came from, and all she could do was scoff and roll her eyes. She had correctly assumed who this band of pitiful demons belonged to, and with no more need for the creature, sliced open its throat as it was mid-sentence. Its blood spilled from the wound to join the pool at their feet and she dropped the deceased creature before flaring her wings, kicking off the ground and ascending back to the sky with the rest of the angels.

As Coriel blazed through the air she felt fat droplets of water strike her forehead. A feeling of warmth enveloped her and her comrades and she closed her eyes, allowing the holy rain sent from the Gods cleanse her body of the sticky black goo that clung to her and close her shallow wounds. When the rain fell to earth it purified the former battlefield by washing away the carnage and dissolving the corpses left behind, restoring the area to its original beauty of fresh green grass and vibrant wildflowers.

This was what Coriel was made for. For as long as she lived, she would make sure the demons didn’t further corrupt Manusya and the Heavens. She had a lot of work to do.

-------------

When Coriel completed her ascent and landed on the plush grounds of the Heavens, she quickly learned the battle was not quite as successful as she’d first thought. Before the angel even finished folding her golden wings to her back, her superior was pushing through the crowd and barreling toward her with a murderous expression; her face all sharp, harsh angles. Coriel sighed and shook her head as she watched the Archangel approach. Pahaliah was always such a buzz kill. Did they have to do this now, while she was still coming down off the high of her own adrenaline? The woman’s lips were pursed and thin, her jade eyes cold. “Diniel and six of your Malakhim did not make it out of the clearing,” Pahaliah scolded, her voice icy and thick with anger.

Coriel’s eyes widened and she felt the color drain from her face, but even in her own shock she noticed the obvious pleasure Paha took at her reaction. Diniel was one of the Taqaphim Coriel had felt get destroyed?! She reeled at the news. Surely she would have felt a stronger pang in her heart when her Second had been killed… but she was so consumed by the thrill of the fight that even if it’d felt like a boulder exploded in her chest she still probably wouldn’t have given it much thought. Oh, Diniel…

That only meant one thing: the humans must not have escaped their death either, and Pahaliah’s glare confirmed that without a doubt. Coriel sighed again and looked down at the ground, her wings hanging lazily off her back in shame. It didn’t matter if they killed one demon or one million; if humans were a casualty of their battles, the mission was an automatic failure.

“I specifically assigned you the task of rescuing the humans!” Pahaliah cried. Coriel was rather taken aback by the disappointment rather than anger in the Archangel’s tone. “I don’t know why you still can’t see that saving humans is our number one priority. Michael and I made sure you were given the most important part of this mission because we thought you could handle it! Why did we think you could handle it? WHY?!”

Well, probably because Michael likes me, Coriel wanted to respond. I bet it was his idea and you fought him tooth and nail on the subject until you finally gave in.

“How could you want to stay back and fight the demons instead?!” Pahaliah continued. “Because you thought you were the hero at the center of the battlefield? Is that what’s so important to you?!”

Well… yes, Coriel did enjoy being at the center of a winning battle, but they just established it was a failure anyway. The angel’s eyes glassed over as she listened to her superior explain, for what had to have been the thousandth time, just how important the lives of the humans were. There was one thing Coriel always had a hard time wrapping her head around: what was the problem with letting the most corrupt of the people of Marusya perish? “But, Paha, the humans drew the penta—”

“No excuses! Every human life is sacred and we need to purify them all, no matter how strong you think the taint inside them might be. You must always have the utmost faith in them.” Pahaliah squeezed the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes in obvious frustration. This was not the first time she was explaining this simple concept to Coriel, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. If it weren’t for Coriel’s fighting skills and seemingly charming attitude to everyone but her immediate superior, the Erelim would have been demoted a long time ago and had her wings stripped of their shiny golden color. Paha could only hope to see the day that happened, and with the way Coriel was trending, that day was likely not far off. “You are NOT an Archangel. You cannot just keep changing orders we’ve specifically given to you and your team. And ordering around the other Erelim? Trust me, they will also be suffering consequences for listening to you once again. You are not Michael, and if you keep this up, you NEVER will be.”

Coriel deflated. “Never being Michael” were the only words Paha ever said that seemed to get through to her. Michael was the latest warrior that had been promoted to High Archangel and was responsible for overseeing all Erelim in the Heavens. Pahaliah was second in command to him, and was the next in line for the promotion to take his place. New Archangels and High Archangels were appointed to the Council once every century, and the next opportunity for promotion was in two more short years.

There were four Archangel and three High Archangel spots to fill. Archangels once hailed from and became the leaders of their respective High Angel groups: Seraphim, creators of the Lesser angels like Malakhim or Messengers; Cherubim, overseers of all life on Marusya; and Erelim, the leaders of the Taqaphim and Malakhim armies. The other four appointed angels could be any mix of the High Angel types.

The Archangel Council of this century was comprised of three Seraphim, two Cherabim, and two Erelim. Pahaliah was the second Archangel of Erelim origin now, but not High Archangel, which meant she could still be promoted higher once Michael was excused from his post. Paha always seemed intimidated by Coriel’s drive, natural talent, and likable personality among the other Archangels— even among some of the Gods— and was nervous she would not receive the high honor of being appointed High Archangel to the Erelim over the more rebellious angel… especially since Michael never seemed to see the flaws in her that Paha did. Coriel hoped she would win out over the current Archangel for leader, but after the mistakes today she would need to tread much more carefully until the appointments by the Gods were made.

“I have every excuse to demote you to Taqaphim, Coriel. I could strip the gold from your wings and replace it with silver, and then you would report to Tarael or Imriaf. Yet I will show you mercy once again, and hope you take that gift and learn to protect the humans with your life.” Coriel opened her mouth to speak, but Paha’s open palm flew up to shush her and raised her voice to continue. “That does not always mean focusing on the demons! In fact…” Pahaliah reached behind Coriel and yanked, wrenching the invisible sword in its sheath from her back and making it materialize in the superior’s hand. “On your next assignment, you will not be permitted to use weapons of any kind. You will obey this command, or so help me, we’ll skip the demotion to Taqaphim and make you a simple Messenger.”

Pahaliah couldn’t help but notice Coriel shivering at her words. Finally, a threat that seemed to resonate with the rebellious angel. With Coriel’s weapon still in her hands the Archangel smirked and turned to leave, silently dismissing herself to prepare the vigils for the fallen angels of the day.

-------------

Coriel returned to her stark chambers with a scowl on her face, upset that she’d let Pahaliah see an outward reaction to the threat of a demotion. She was already annoyed at her leader for the way she dropped the devastating news of Diniel’s death: so flat, cold, and uncaring.

“She’s just jealous…” Coriel tried to reassure herself as she slipped her gold plated armor over her head. It pleased Coriel that Paha always took everything too seriously and was known as the ‘wet blanket’ of the Archangels. All of them knew the short, bouncy, brown-haired Erelim was much more fun. She didn’t like, however, that Paha believed the “fun” Coriel liked to have was the only reason she was promoted to High Angel status in the first place.

Despite having been cleansed by the holy rain earlier, Coriel decided a hot bath to relax and wash away her thoughts was in order. She folded back a dark beige screen decorated with a garden watercolor scene in muted greens, browns and blues— a sharp contrast to the rest of the simple, blindingly-white room— and hung her armor on its proper hook against the wall. Stripping off her diamond white robe on her way to the next room, she kicked it up with her foot and it onto her bed before her bare feet met the cool, white tile of the bathroom.

Once the porcelain tub was filled with scalding-hot water and the scent of jasmine, Coriel eased in with a heavy sigh and submerged herself to her neck. She let the steam hit her face and bead with sweat as she relaxed her aching muscles and unnecessarily lathered her arms up with soap. As she scrubbed at her nails, her thoughts turned to Diniel. He had been a good Second; the most skilled Taqaphim she’d ever had the pleasure of knowing. She was proud when Michael had assigned the male to her, and they had spent many hours training together in swords and bows and exchanging battle strategies. He would have been promoted to Erelim when the Archangels were appointed soon, Coriel was sure; but Diniel had always been incredibly humble, eager to please and never had the same pull toward power that she possessed. Would he have cared if his wings turned from silver to gold and he commanded more angels beneath him? Probably not, and that had always driven Coriel crazy. There was a time she’d considered bedding him even though he was a mere second-tier warrior. She had been so impressed with his skills with a sword that she was willing to forget his rank while they had a little fun. However, her attraction to him had come to an abrupt end when she learned just how little he cared for status.

The only rank Diniel had ever did concern himself with was the title of the demons they fought. While they trained together he’d always talked about what he would do if he came face-to-face with an elusive Demon Knight and how he’d wanted to dwindle their numbers from four, to three, to none at all. She wondered if Diniel’s spirit was in a state of unrest knowing that he had died at the hands of Zagan’s followers; the Demon Knight the pair hated most of all.

She would get revenge for Diniel. She decided then that she would kill Zagan at all costs, not only avenging her Second, but helping her to get promoted and lead the Erelim as High Archangel.

Coriel slid forward in the tub, submerging her lips into the water and smirking. Yes, that’s precisely what she would do. She knew Diniel would have wanted it that way.

-------------

The Heavens was a breathtakingly beautiful city built on what looked like fluffy white clouds, yet the ground held marble structures built into large, dark brown stone cliffs that climbed even higher into the skies. Each building was an architectural wonder of columns, curved roofs and intricately-carved facades inlaid with precious stones, all surrounded by lush gardens that were carefully tended to. There was no darkness or night in the Heavens; everything was bathed in eternal sunlight. The constant, calming sound of running water could be heard from anywhere in the city as waterfalls cascaded down its many cliffs, running off of the clouds and down into the atmosphere of Marusya to help cleanse the world of its taint.

Like every other angel not currently on assignment, Coriel made her way to the city square to attend the daily Vigil of Angels. “Erelim Coriel,” a few said with bowed heads in greeting as she passed by. A large fountain with cerulean water surrounded a stark white, almost impossibly high statue of the Supreme God. She paused for a moment in front of the massive sculpture and clasped her hands together in prayer, beseeching Him to guide Diniel’s essence to the Lake of Souls and quickly pass him into a better rebirth.

Coriel always found that, ironically, vigils held by humans on Marusya seemed to be more spiritual than those held in the Heavens. Then again, humans held far fewer of these ceremonies than the angels did, which must have made it more of an event for them. Her kind perished daily at the hands of demons and corrupted humans. That was another argument Coriel would have to share with Paha: humans killed angels more often than the Gods and Archangels cared to admit. Why was she expected to protect the malicious beings that often cared so little for her own kind?

She shook away the thought as she was given her customary candle by a Messenger and cradled it in her hands. It was a soft, chartreuse green, made of beeswax and bayberry with a charcoal gray wick protruding from the top and wrapped in a ribbon of the finest gold. Coriel fingered the shiny embellishment as she stood there in quiet contemplation over Diniel, suddenly finding herself blinking away a sting at the back of her eyes as tears threatened to fall. She flattened her palms together with the candle sandwiched between them and closed her eyes, praying once again for her fallen friend. Suddenly, warmth enveloped the Erelim, as suffering was not permitted in the Heavens and the Gods were able to calm the fears and upsets of the angel population anywhere inside the city.

Now numb to her feelings, Coriel looked down at her candle as her’s and every other candle in the city suddenly ignited with a soft yellow flame. The additional light was barely noticeable under the undying sunshine of the Heavens, but their warmth symbolized the love and camaraderie the angels had for their fallen brethren. They all began to hum in unison, Coriel included, and the sound was almost deafening. It was a sad song that came out like a buzzing that, for a city that offered emotional comfort, could bring the human world to its knees and have them drown in their own tears sorrow.

After a while, the hymn died on a fading note. “Safe travels, my friend,” Coriel whispered before all in attendance blew out their candle at the same time. She usually wasn’t so affected by the deaths of the angels— it was all part of the job, after all— but Diniel had died because of her own inability to follow orders. Had she followed the mission, she wouldn’t have let the humans die and would have killed the demons that had beheaded them with one swing of her sword before they could be destroyed. But she hadn’t, and she would carry their deaths and the death of Diniel on her shoulders forever. She just hoped that, when his soul did pass into a new being, that the Gods would be just and give him the good life that he so desperately deserved.

“Are you all right, Coriel?” a deep male voice said behind her. As gentle and filled with concern as the voice was, it made her jump and whirl around.

“Michael,” the Erelim responded with some surprise. She looked down at her half-burned, smoking candle as the wick still showed a faint glow, then back up at the High Archangel. He was so tall that she had to crane her neck all the way back to see his face. With his rank he had large golden wings similar to Coriel’s, though his looked as if they were inlaid with clear, sparkling diamonds, and equally sparkling olive brown eyes gazed down at her. After a moment of silence and failure to respond to his question, the male tilted his head to the side and caused Coriel to stammer. “I, err… yes, I’m fine. Just… thinking about Diniel, and how I would like to avenge him.”

“Oh?” cooed another diamond-winged angel with bemusement. Azazel took a few steps forward to stand beside Michael; two towering High Archangels now like skyscrapers before her. Unlike her High leader, Azazel was completely devoid of color and reminded Coriel much of her simple room: silver hair, silver eyes, pale skin, white robe. Everything aside from his wings was muted, and even those had the white diamond speckles on the otherwise golden feathers. Being of Cherubim origin he was able to shape shift into a human, lion, eagle or ox at will, and Coriel always wondered whether those forms were also so blandly colored.

“Oh,” Coriel parroted in confirmation, standing a little taller and crossing her arms as she met the head Cherubim’s gaze. Her tone had a touch of disappointment at his presence.

Azazel’s lip quirked up on one side. “And how, little Erelim, do you hope to achieve such a thing?”

Her sky-blue eyes narrowed and chin lifted higher with pride. “I’m going to find Zagan, and I’m going to kill him.”

That lip spiked even higher. “But Demon Knight Zagan is quite a powerful opponent. They say he’s the next to be King. You plan on taking him down on your own?”

Is this a trick? The brown-haired angel bit the inside of her lip as she momentarily contemplated her retort, but as she was opening her mouth to speak, Michael interjected. “Coriel is a skilled fighter, albeit a little too eager to be the hero all the time.” Those joyful eyes stole a brief glance down at her, causing her to smile weakly and visibly relax. “I have every confidence that if she had to, she could face and take the horner down on her own.”

“Hm. You’re right, Michael. I suppose she’s conquered worse.”

Knowing what Azazel was alluding to, Coriel’s eyes narrowed and she felt her cheeks turn bright red. She wanted to respond but was so shocked that her mind went blank. She was grateful for her body forcing her to hold her tongue; had she been able to speak, she was sure that what would have come out would have been flustered and nonsensical. Why can’t the Gods also ease embarrassment?!

Sensing Coriel’s discomfort, her leader only smiled in response and extended his hand out to his fellow Council member. “May the Gods guard your safety, Brother.”

Azazel’s lip curved impossibly further upward as he locked eyes with Michael and gripped his outstretched hand for a firm shake. “Give it and it shall be given unto you.”

Coriel sighed in relief as she watched the High Archangel turn and disappear into the crowd of white, silver and gold. After a silent nod of gratitude to Michael, she was quick to turn on her heels and peel off the other way. Jerk.
© Copyright 2014 Alyson Caraway (alycaraway at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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