Chasing Angels In The Dark

Chapter 11, Part 2: True colors

Michael sighed and shut his eyes; when he opened them again, the fire that reigned within had subsided. Perhaps he was making an effort to control his fiery nature. She remembered she had once read that Seraphim meant the burning ones. And the angel before her was their leader.

"Whoever blessed this cross made it so that no one but you could bear it. Not even me."

Diletta looked at him wide-eyed. That couldn't be true. Whoever did this had no way of knowing it was going to be her who would take on the mission.

Oh, shit. Remiel was right.

"It takes an archangel to give a blessing like that. And there are only so many of us." Michael approached her, halting only a few inches away, the smell of primrose attacking her in waves. "It's time you tell me how you ended up inside the base."

Diletta went near the trunk and looked at the cross wary, then carefully placed it in her palm, half-expecting it to burn her. Nothing. The iron was as cool as ever.

Shaken up by the angel's revelations, she dropped the pendant and stumbled backwards, collapsing against the cabin's wall. "The Faithful gave it to me."

Michael frowned.

"They are some crazy priests who want the angels to win the War. They are also the ones who gave me the directions I needed to free you."

The angel nodded and sat down beside her. The heat of his body enveloped her, his proximity sending wild, fluttering butterflies in her belly. She noticed his eyebrow lift in amusement.

Damn aura thing.

"Who brought you to Dulce? You said you lived in Rome."

Fortunately, Michael had his mind only on the matter at hand. Unfortunately, the conversation had led to Remiel and, for reasons unknown, Diletta was quite reluctant to mention him.

"An angel."

Michael took hold of her chin and forced her to face him. Every neuron in her body fired up, and when he smiled and brought his lips a breath away from hers, Diletta forgot how to breathe.

"I need more than that. Name. Description." He let her chin down and gazed at her.

Was he taking advantage of her attraction to him to manipulate her? The disturbing and more than embarrassing thought crept into her mind, flipping the switch of rage. Interrogated like a criminal, suspected even after everything she did, and now this.

It was time to take the Fifth. "He never told me his name."

"You're lying."

Diletta shot up, hands on her hips. "I am not telling you. What are you going to do? And what difference does it make, anyway?" She shouldn't be provoking the burning one, but since he offered her the bracelet, she felt quite safe. And brave.

The archangel rose slowly, the amber in his irises changing to gold, his palms turning into fists, his wings unfolding. Diletta backed away, debating her former resolution. But after shooting her a lethal glare, Michael took a long breath, shut his eyes, and when he opened them again, the wings disappeared from his back, as did the fire in his gaze.

He was really making an effort, she would give him that.

"The cross is also a tracking device, Diletta. I need to know, for both our sakes, who is stalking us."

Wait, what?

A surge of panic flooded her insides, her heartbeat accelerating. Michael had a damn good point, but more out of instinct than out of reasoning, Diletta believed that by mentioning Remiel, the archangel would go ballistic. Maybe she should approach this one baby step at a time and watch his reaction.