Free Sins of the Lost by Linda Poitevin Page A

the distance. “You didn’t come here just to check up on me.”
    “No.” With a heavy sigh, Mika’el straightened up. “No, I’m not here to check up on you. We’ve run into a complication. Samael is watching the woman.”
    “The—” Aramael’s heart jolted. “You mean Alex?”
    A scowl crossed the other’s features. “The Naphil, yes. We’ve no idea why he’s interested in her, but I think we can safely assume it’s not a good thing. We need someone to watch her.”
    It took several seconds for Mika’el’s intent to sink in. Several more to force a swallow in a throat that had gone as dry as their surroundings. Of all the Archangel might have divulged, this would have been what Aramael least expected. Watching Alex on his own, in secret, had been one thing. He’d been careful not to let himself get too close. But what Mika’el suggested—watching her with Heaven’s permission? Its blessing? That was something entirely different.
    He stared toward the Hellfire. He was an Archangel now. He couldn’t afford to give in to the baser instincts. Not anymore. Not again.
    “You know I still have feelings for her,” he said at last, feeling duty-bound to tell the other warrior.
    “I suspected as much, yes.”
    Aramael’s fingers curled around his sword hilt. “Then you’ve chosen me because . . . ?”
    “Two reasons. First, because without a Guardian to help you, you’ll need to track her on a physical level. Your experience as a Power means you’ll fit into the human realm better than the others. And second, because you do still have feelings for her. We need more than just a watcher, Aramael. If it becomes necessary, we need her protected. The others would stand in Samael’s way, but . . .” Mika’el’s voice trailed off.
    “But they wouldn’t die for her as I would,” Aramael finished. He scuffed the toe of one boot against the hardened soil, remembering Raphael’s accusations. “And you trust me to do this.”
    “I have no choice.”
    Well. That had been nothing if not blunt.
    “May I at least know why I’m being asked to play sacrificial lamb?”
    Again
.
    “We need her help. With Seth.”
    Slack-jawed, Aramael stared at him. “You have got to be kidding me. You want me to protect the woman to whom I am soulmated so she can help you with the one she chose over me? Even if I wanted to—”
    “The One is leaving us.”
    Aramael stared at him. He snapped his mouth closed. “I don’t understand. Leaving us how?”
    “Permanently.”
    “She can’t leave. She’s the Creator, the All. Heaven cannot survive without her.”
    “And the world can no longer survive
with
Lucifer. It’s the only way she can stop him.” The tightness in Mika’el’s voice told how much the words cost. “She needs to bind with him, to become what she was before she created him from herself. Seth stands in the way. Giving up his power created an imbalance that’s ripping the mortal world apart. Controlling it is making her weak. We need him to take back what he gave up.”
    Take back . . .
Despite the gravity of the situation, Aramael’s heart leapt beneath his ribs. “You mean become immortal again?”
    Mika’el glowered at him. “Don’t even think of going there. Regardless of what happens with Seth, the Naphil remains out of your reach, is that clear? This isn’t about you—or her, for that matter. It’s about honoring the One’s wishes.”
    “I should think it would be about
saving
the One rather than honoring her wish to die.”
    The other Archangel’s eyes darkened with an anguish that lanced through to Aramael’s own core, making him wish he could retract his words. His cruelty. None in all of Heaven had been more loyal to the One; none would do more for her than the Archangel Mika’el. To suggest otherwise verged on blasphemy.
    “I spoke out of turn—” he began.
    Mika’el cut him off. “I have been over this a hundred thousand times,” he said quietly, “and every