Free Alice's Insurrection (Alice Clark Series) by Andrea DiGiglio Page B

Paul’s voice rang out, concerned, in his mind. Sariel had been considered an elder when he was still carrying out God’s orders. His silver-like hair shone in the moonlight as he barreled down the road to his home. He had hoped they would have more time before Rogziel attacked or threatened to attack again. He grew solemn while lost in his thoughts. He had at one time believed Alice could save them all, that she was some sort of salvation for his kind, but Rogziel’s relentlessness was poisonous to their hopes and faith. When he pulled up to the building, he found Jake, Kokabiel, Penemue and Briathos impatiently waiting outside. He could feel their angst closing their throats in protest of what he had to share. The panic was nearly suffocating them as they waited.
    “What’s wrong , Sariel?” Penemue asked quickly, barely letting him crawl out of his truck.
    “I was paid a visit from Rogziel.”
    Jake growled in response, “What did he want?”
    “He wants Alice. I’m pretty sure he was threatening me in order to get her. He knows that she feels for us and he plans to use that against her and against us all.”
    “The last time Alice gave herself up she was almost killed ,” Kokabiel added.
    “I’m not suggesting we do that, or tell her for that matter. I just want everyone to be on board with our decision , whatever it may be. If he gets anyone alone or off guard, he does have the power to send us to the abyss. I don’t know if Alice would recover from losing any one of us.” Sariel knew what he was saying, but a part of him was warning, warning that it was him who was running out of time.
    “Thank you for including me , brother. I will stand by your decision, though I feel we should not keep such things from her. Please let me know your decision, but I must go,” Briathos said.
    “Enjoy you’re date , brother,” Kokabiel said teasingly.
    “She is strong willed but her empathy is also strong. We’ll have to be much more careful to protect her and ourselves,” Penemue said. It seemed there was truth to the statement “no rest for the wicked.” For as good as they were at heart, they couldn’t change what they’d done in the past, and your past is a part of who you are whether you like it or not.
     

    ALICE
     
    Alice brought home a canvas to work on in her living room while the boys were off being boys. Briathos had finally gotten the nerve to ask Theresa out. So awkward. She laughed at the memory. She turned up her IPod dock, allowing the vibration of the music to suck her in fully so she could draw in absence of herself.
    What felt like hours later , when she felt as though she could no longer work on the piece for another moment, she turned the music off and cleaned up her supplies. When she looked back at the image, to take it all in, the charcoal in her hand fell and crashed to the floor, “Cole!”
    Cole rushed into the room , sliding on his socks across the floor. “What’s wrong?” he panicked. She pointed at the drawing, speechless. It was a circle of angels, both Fallen and not, around a Fallen angel laying in the center, bleeding near his heart, wings crumbled behind him. Alice knew from experience that often her images had already happened, or worse, were about to. It was as if the image called to her, laced with emotion and a sense that it was more than just another piece of art. They could all sense that about some of her work, as if something or someone was warning her and them all.
    “It’s just a drawing , Alice,” Cole reassured her while holding her shoulders. “Okay?” He sounded reassuring but it worried him too.
    “But so many of them have happened. We should call the family. It could be any of us.” Cole nodded and called his father who happened to be with the others at that moment, and passed the news. “They said they’ll come to see it tomorrow. For now, let’s get something to eat and maybe rent a movie. For one night, let’s act as if we were just