Free Sins of the Lost by Linda Poitevin Page B

time, I reach the same conclusion as our Creator has. There is no other way to do this. No way to both stop Lucifer and save her.”
    “But how in Hell can we survive without someone to—?” Aramael stopped. A cold knot formed deep in his gut. “Not Seth.”
    Mika’el said nothing. He didn’t have to.
    Aramael tested the idea. The Appointed, who had already abdicated his role twice, returning to Heaven, taking over from his mother, ruling over all of Creation. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t imagine it. The knot drew tighter.
    Bloody Hell, if Seth was the best they could come up with . . .
    He looked back to Mika’el.
    “Protect the woman,” the other Archangel said. “However you must.”

Chapter 17
    Alex placed the dishes in the sink and then stood, hands braced against the counter. She stared at her reflection in the darkened window, blocking out the voices of Seth and her sister and niece in the dining room behind her—if the miniscule apartment cubbyhole could be called such. She should be pleased with Seth’s sudden display of interest in something other than her. Should be thrilled with the first attempt he’d made to fit in with her life instead of insisting she remake it to suit him. He’d gone to a lot of trouble, surprising her by inviting Jen and Nina, making dinner . . .
    And all she wanted was for her only family to leave.
    Because all she’d been able to think about was the same thing that had eaten at her all day. Michael’s visit. His words.
    “We need him to take it back.”
    Take back the power that had been the price of his choice to be with her. That had caused the implosion of the alley in which they’d stood when he had given it up. That had connected him to the divine and made him the pawn in some bitter, cosmic game of chess played by his parents.
    How could Michael think for an instant that she would help convince Seth to do such a thing? And why would he ask?
    Damn, she wished she’d let him at least state his reasons.
    “Are you clearing the table or hiding?” her sister’s voice intruded. Alex opened her eyes to Jen’s reflection beside her own in the window, the smile on her sister’s lips at odds with the furrow between her brows.
    “Long day,” Alex said. “Sorry.”
    “Long many days.”
    While Jen’s words were neutral enough, her voice held an underlying accusation. A guilty part of Alex wondered again when her family might leave.
    She forced a smile. “I know I should have called, but things are a little chaotic at the moment.”
    “Which I might know if you’d bothered returning any of my two dozen voice messages.” Jen scraped the remains of dinner from a plate into the garbage. She rinsed the dish and placed it in the dishwasher.
    A quick glance into the dining room told Alex that Seth and Nina had retreated to the living room, out of earshot. She folded her arms and settled back against the counter, waiting for the lecture. Jen wouldn’t rest until she’d had her say.
    “I’m worried about you, Alex.” Another plate went into the dishwasher, this one with a little more force behind it. “Ever since everything before—the killer, Nina, the fire—you just haven’t been the same. I’d hoped you’d make progress with Dr. Bell’s help, but—”
    “Bell can’t change what’s happened.”
    “It’s not about changing what’s happened, it’s about coping with it. And you didn’t give him a chance.”
    “What chance? If I told him half of what’s going on in my life right now, he’d have me in a straitjacket,” Alex retorted. “Shrinks don’t care about real, they care about normal—and in case you haven’t noticed, nothing about my life qualifies as that anymore. Neither does yours, but you don’t want to admit it.”
    Jen stared at her, fine lines around her mouth marking her tension. “Well. Do feel free to get your feelings off your chest, Alexandra. Don’t hold back on my account.”
    Alex put a hand to her