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I couldn’t believe that it had worked. That I’d actually fooled Derdekea into thinking I was some kind of power-hungry angel who wanted nothing more than to hurt a demon and prove herself.
I’d had exactly one experience with acting before, which had been in middle school when Taylor had made me sign up for drama club with her. I’d lasted one semester before I’d hightailed it out of there.
The stage had not been for me.
So to have been able to drag up enough acting skills now to make this work was nothing short of a miracle. I guessed wanting to free Azazel was so strong an incentive that it had really brought out hidden—more like buried—talents in me.
I spent the next few hours in the combat training fields. No matter how this whole thing was going to go down, I’d need to be sharp on my fighting skills, and it was a good use of my time to go over what Azazel had taught me when he’d pretended to be Aziel.
Thinking back to that time was dizzying. My mind and heart still didn’t quite know how to parse all that had happened.
I’d fallen in love with him. Again.
He’d come here, knowing I didn’t remember him, and he’d courted me so sweetly, so patiently. This…this was like a new beginning to our love story, the start we could have had if we’d met under different circumstances.
And yet…I wouldn’t want to miss that first beginning we’d had. Wouldn’t want to miss it for the world. We’d had a rocky start to our relationship, but all that sniping and snapping at each other that we’d done after he’d taken me to Hell was just as much a cornerstone of who we were as a couple as the abiding love that had followed.
And now…now I even had an alternate, lovely, romantic, sweet beginning in addition to the tense, banter-filled, quarrelsome way our relationship had started all those years ago.
I loved both.
And I missed him so fiercely it hurt my soul.
I channeled that pain and my anger about him suffering into sharp attacks during combat training. When I’d walked onto the training fields, I’d opted for practicing with a dummy first to warm up. Even with how Azazel and I had spent more time on sex and cuddling during his “training” of me, the times we did practice had left their mark. I was able to execute maneuvers I hadn’t managed before, and my moves were more fluid and catered to my strengths.
Others noticed, too.
Within minutes, I had an audience. Angels who’d barely paid me any mind before now walked up to watch me practice, and after some time, one of them challenged me to spar with him.
So I did.
Grim-faced, I went to put to good use all that Azazel had taught me. And I didn’t just remember the things he’d drilled into me during his time up here in Heaven, but also our training sessions from when I’d lived in Hell.
Back then, I’d been a human, and the way he and the others had taught me to fight had necessarily been about making up for my weakness compared to demons. Still, a lot of what I’d learned in the arena with Azazel and the others was useful even now, especially as it applied to fighting against a stronger opponent.
My teeth-gritting rage and frustration about Azazel being caught gave me an edge I’d never had before. I had something to fight for now. Something far more valuable than the simple desire to win in a competition to move up a rank. I fought with an inner drive that my sparring partner lacked.
And it delivered a result I’d never achieved before—I won.
I ended up standing above him after I’d relieved him of his weapon with a well-placed strike that had taken him by surprise, while I’d swiped his legs out from under him at the same time. My sword now poised over his heart, I paused, panting, wrath heating my blood.
I was so angry.
Right this very moment, Azazel was being tortured, suffering who knew what horrible pain, unaware that Naamah and I were plotting to get him out, and all I could do for now was bide my time until I’d hopefully get on Raphael’s torture team and find out where Azazel was being held.
I couldn’t just sit on my hands. I had to stay active, to vent this oppressive force of aggravation and despair, or else I’d explode.
“Next!” I barked, lifting my gaze to the angels who’d watched me spar.
For the first time in my life, I wanted to fight. Needed the exertion, needed the way it focused my mind, narrowed my attention to the immediacy of the moment…pulled my thoughts off the never-ending spiral of doom whenever the memory of Azazel being beaten right in front of me flashed through my mind.
Another angel stepped up, this one a dominion who’d taken delight in defeating me the times I’d sparred with her before. I gave her a grim smile as I took my position.
We met in a clash of metal and flashing lights.
You still think in terms of human strength and speed, Azazel’s words surfaced from the depths of my mind. You’re moving slowly because you don’t believe that you’re capable of more, perceiving your body bound by human limitations. But you’re not human anymore. You’re an angel. So act like one.
