Savior

Excerpt

Chapter One

Sanctuary, 2512

He hated when memories got the better of him, but at least this time, he could blame someone else.
Cadmiel took a deep breath and forced his fists to unclench as he stared at Archangel Michael. "I'm sorry, I must have misheard you."

Michael crossed his arms, dark eyes glinting. "No, you didn't. You heard what I said. You have to go back and save her."

Apprehension and disbelief coursed like lava through him, burning everything it touched. "And this is why you called me here? To ask this of me?"

"I thought you would be happy, Cadmiel." Michael tilted his head, his unwavering, endless gaze disconcerting in its intensity. "I thought this was what you wanted."

He closed his eyes; so much pressure pounding in his head, his eyes ached. Damn, but he'd never wanted anything or anyone other than Emilyn, wished every night of the past five hundred years that he could have saved her—that he could go back in time and change things. But messing with time was one of the biggest no-no's in angelic lore. Going back to alter anything went beyond bad into the realms of catastrophic. And here stood Michael, calmly telling him he had to go and do exactly that. His heart skittered, because more than anything he wanted to agree. Yet he couldn't.

"You know I would have given anything to be with Emilyn even one more day, but not like this." His voice came out rough, the words uneven.

Michael paced a few steps away and stood in front of the windows that took up an entire wall of the archangel's residence. "And why not? I am offering you that and more."

Cadmiel threw up his hands in disbelief. "Oh, I don't know, maybe because it breaks about a dozen angelic and cosmic laws; maybe because you don't know what effects might ripple out from it and change the last five-hundred years' worth of history? Do I need any more reasons than those? I'm the Angel of Destiny, Michael. I, more than anyone, know what a bitch fate can be. And no matter what, she can't be messed with."

Michael's dark eyes sparked with golden fissures of power. "I don't answer to fate, not anymore. I make my own way. It is not common knowledge, but I can see alternate timelines. I decided I didn't want to sit back and watch it end bloody. So, I'm changing things. And saving Emilyn is just one part."

Cadmiel sighed. Weariness and an underlying sense of defeat he'd been carrying for the past five hundred years sat heavy within him. "Are you doing this so I'll join your cause? I know I refused before, but Archangel Zadkiel's really been pissing me off lately. He wants to see your insides on your outsides, by the way. I'll reconsider, but you don't have to offer me something so totally insane."

Michael walked forward, closing the distance between them. "Let's get one thing straight, Cadmiel. I'm not doing this for you; I'm doing it for me. And there is no choice. You will go back and save Emilyn."

He scoffed as he crossed his arms. "You can't order me to go. The other archangels have disowned you, cast you out, like Lucifer. No one would blame me for disobeying you. Especially, if they knew what you've asked of me."

"The other archangels may have renounced me, but they are the ones who have forgotten our true purpose. So busy fighting the demons, they do not care that humans are getting caught in the crossfire, the very people God charged us with watching over. I'm trying to do what's right." Michael's expression hardened, his features telling of steadfastness to his cause. "We're wasting time, Cadmiel. It's exactly five hundred years today since she died, you need to go."

Cadmiel's breath caught painfully in his lungs. Five hundred years today since Emilyn had died. It'd taken him a long time to forget the day. At least four hundred years. Every year, this day would come and bring pain, desolation, the question of why he even bothered going on when half of his soul had been shredded and cast adrift. But who ever heard of an angel committing suicide?

And plus, it wasn't like there was someone else who could step up and take on his job. Only he had the curse of seeing people's fates. Everyone's but his own. And Emilyn's. That's how he'd known the first day he'd seen her that she was special, that she was meant for him. In a city street full of people whose fates hovered over them like clouds on a rainy day, she had cut through the swathe like a golden ray of sunshine in the gloom. A blank slate. A person whose destiny he couldn't envision.
And if he could have seen their shared fate, would he have walked away, knowing the pain in his future?

Michael gripped his shoulder, pulling him out of the dark reveries. "This will be for the best, for all of us. I don't care what you believe about my endeavors or me, but know that Emilyn shouldn't have died. She should not have been taken away from you. This needs to be rectified."

His eyes burned, and he shook his head, unable to talk over the lump in his throat. No. It could not be. It wasn't natural. Although he and Michael had never been close, he'd always considered him a friend, so why was the archangel torturing him this way?

Michael's lips pressed together, his expression harsh. Around them, a muted rainbow haze coalesced as sparks of golden power burned in the archangel's gaze.

"I know you're angry, but you'll get over it when Emilyn is with you again. We'll talk when you get back."

Anger singed away the pain. "Get back? I'm damn well not going anywhere. Screw you, Michael. Blast me into oblivion for disrespecting you, but I am not—"

Michael reached out a hand and touched him in the middle of the forehead, forcing him backward.

Cadmiel threw his arms out as he started falling. He tried to access his powers to stop himself hitting the floor, but it was as if someone had cut the electrical connection, he didn't get even the tiniest spark. And he never made the floor. He just kept falling. High-octane power whistled past his ears, like being buffeted by a wind strong enough to burn. Colors flashed in his vision, their intensity blinding. He shut his eyes and curled himself into a ball. Impact was going to be a bitch.