Celestial (Angels of Elysium, #2)

by Olivia Wildenstein

“I lost a feather—my first—but it was worth it since it won me a job. Or at least, I believed it had been worth it.” I frowned. “On my first mission out, I tried to reason with him that firearms would only get more people killed. And most of them innocents. He asked whose side I was on, and I told him on the side of justice. He proceeded to show me what the Austrian militia was doing. The massacres I witnessed, Celeste.” His Adam’s apple slid up and down slowly. “He asked me if I found that fair.” His jaw clenched. “On our way back from one of these bloodbaths, we were shot. Both of us. And not just once.” His throat moved again. “He died; I woke up bathed in blood.” The bones in his shoulder rotated underneath my cheek as though he were lifting himself out of the gory pool all over again. “I’d gone on horseback but had no horse when I awakened, so I went back by foot. It took me close to a week to reach the guild. A week during which I saw so many terrible things, Celeste. Things that made me question whether humanity could really be saved. If it was worth saving.” He was quiet and still for a moment. “The worst part was that the man died a Triple, and even though he was far from a saint, I was outraged that his soul had been left to wilt inside his corpse.”

“To remind you that before being an archangel, I was a fletching. A fletching who dreamed of changing the human world before he dreamed of changing the celestial one.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes. Just kept staring between the twitching leaves of the maple shading a piece of our bench and the snapping whitecaps atop the river. “In the end, it was the worlds that changed me.”

“I should’ve come for you sooner, Celeste.” “You could’ve not come at all.”

“Because that’s what people around me do. They leave.” I laid my cheek back against the toilet seat as my skull began to bob. “When I ask them, and even when I don’t.”

“They’ve appeared.” “They’ve—Then why are you crying?” “Because I’m . . .” What was I? Proud? Hopeful? In the end, I went with a word that summed up both. “Because I’m happy.”

I’d much prefer if you tried to preserve your wings, because I’d like an ally up there, Celeste.”

“Do not disparage my fletching’s accomplishment.” Ophan Mira’s red wings were pulled in tight along her spine, barely poking out from behind her even tighter shoulders. “No sinner is simple and no sin inconsequential. Humans are complex, even the lowest scorers.” I blinked at Mira. I couldn’t remember a single instance my ancient professor had stood up for me, and yet here she was, standing up for me. The verity stretched out her wings. When male angels did it, it was seen as courting. When females of our kind did it, it was a show of dominance. “You forget I was once a fletching, Ophan.” “I forget nothing, Eliza.” “Ish Eliza.” “Pardon me, Ish. Back in my day, we didn’t precede given names by titles. We were angels first, arrogant second.” Whoa. Whoa. And whoa.

“I was standing up for my fletchings—hybrids and verities. The shine of wings has never meant a thing to me. Not in the past and not now. All I can hope for is that, one day, it will stop mattering altogether.” In silence, we studied each other. I wasn’t sure what she saw when she looked at me, but what I saw in her was a supporter instead of a detractor. “For that to happen, a hybrid would need to become archangel.” “I agree, Celeste, and I believe it’s time.”

“He’ll find his way back to you. Somehow, he always does. The same way you found your way back to . . . us.”

“The Eagles.” I raised her index finger to the E, then slid it across the remaining letters, sounding each one. “They’re a rock band.” “Are they your favorite?” “No.” “Then why do you have their shirt?” “Because . . . because it belonged to my best friend.” My gaze raked across Naya’s face, which looked nothing like Leigh’s and yet encompassed all of its sweetness. “And she didn’t want it anymore?” She doesn’t remember it . . . “I’m just borrowing it until it fits her again.”

I hadn’t drawn anything in ages, but as I flicked my wrist and guided the brush across the canvas, I was reminded of how much I’d enjoyed creating art.

“You and I, we’re soul sisters.” “Soul sisters.” Her eyes sparkled. “You think our souls are sisters?” “I know it.” I

As for your fucking money, you obviously have too much of it. Less now. But still too much.” That ugly smile of his grew. My heartbeat rocketed right into my throat. “What are you talking about?” “I’m outta here. I’ll give you the day to pack up—” “You stole my money . . .” I whispered. “When?”

“Hope you enjoyed your last moment of freedom, Celeste, because from now on, you and I . . . we’re going to be glued at the fucking wing bone.”

“The only thing I really want is my teal jacket. Mimi gave it to me, and—” “The one with the angel wings?” “Yes.” I pushed my fingers through my hair, a thought occurring to me. One which had niggled at me ever since she’d special-ordered the jacket from Dior two years ago. “Did she know what I was?” “On her deathbed, Mikaela—Jarod’s mother”—a groove dented the space between his eyebrows—“she mentioned angels and Elysium. Muriel attributed it to dementia and sorrow, but over time, she started to question this. Especially when she met Leigh. And then you.”

“Drinking is never the solution, Celeste.” “It numbs the pain.” “It only disguises it.” “My body. My choice.”

“I tried that. I tried it for an entire week, and then you had to go and sign on to your ex, and I went so blind with rage that here I am making a fool of myself, attempting to hold on to someone who despises all that I am and all that I do.”

“I’ve never had an actual relationship because I’ve never wanted one. Never wanted to experience Leigh’s heartache. Getting attached brings joy but the pain that comes with it . . . I’m not sure it’s worth the joy. Yes, I loved Mimi and Leigh with my heart and soul, but not with my body. I can’t imagine loving someone with all three. The destruction of such a love . . . It would be obliterating. So, that’s my not-very-exciting story. How many people have you loved in all those years of life you’ve had?”

“I have met mine.” My heart dipped and stilled, and so did my trembling. “I thought—When?” “Years ago.” His jaw ticked. Once. Twice. Years ago . . .? Had he lost her? Was this why he was so bitter about relationships? “Why didn’t you marry her?” “Because she wasn’t eligible.” I frowned.

“I want rainbow wings when I grow up.” Naya gave her parrot green eyes. “Rainbow wings?” “Every color feather. Except black. I don’t want bat wings.” She wrinkled her nose. My lips quirked. “Good thing no angel has ever had black wings.”

“I cannot wait to see them. Whatever color they end up being because I sense they’ll be beautiful.”

“When you smoldered me, Celeste—” “I told you to forget it.” I puffed out an annoyed breath, damning my soul and skin for having lit up for him. “—when you smoldered me, did your shine turn off instantly?” “I don’t see how my smolder’s duration has anything to do with you not being able to get your wings out of my face.” “Celeste,” he growled. “What, Seraph?” “I’m winging you.”

“Why? Why would you wing me?” He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Because I’ve lost my angels-damn mind.” He spoke so quietly that I barely caught his words over the thumping in my chest. When his lids reeled back up, his irises, usually so vivid and clear, were full of thunder. “Because I’m a selfish man, who has so little to offer, yet wants everything in return.”

“I promised the Seven I would concentrate on Elysium, on our people. I swore to eschew any and all distractions, especially ones of a physical nature. Yet here I am winging you.” He released a bitter laugh that gave me actual chills. “I don’t deserve to be an archangel, and if I weren’t so worried about Naya and her fate, I would’ve forfeited my seat. But I am terrified, Celeste. Terrified that she will be taken from me. But now I’m also terrified that you’ll be taken from me. I can’t lose her, but I also can’t lose you.”

“With me, Celeste. You belong with me. To me.” And then he was stepping forward, filling my space. Filling all the space. “The same way I belong to you.”

“You can feel mine, Celeste, because my reckless soul has decided it belongs with yours.” The air darkened as his wings curled around our bodies. “Ta yot neshahadzaleh, levsheh.” His fingertips danced up the length of my spine, then back down, before wrapping delicately around my waist. “You are my soulhalf, sweetheart.”

“Why did you lie about having met your soulhalf years ago?” “I didn’t lie. I did meet her years ago.” He beheld my scintillating skin with such reverence that my shine intensified. “At a guild banquet in my honor. I even got to see her beautiful wings that night and glimpse her virtuous soul.” My mouth slipped open, and for a moment, I lost the ability to produce sound, but then it returned with such force that my words came out shrilly. “You were talking about me?” “Who did you think I was talking about?” “Not me.” I bit my lip. Released it. “Did you know it then?” “That your soul would own mine? No. For the bond to happen, there needs to be physical contact, and we didn’t touch that night. Thank Elysium, for you were still so young.” “When did you know then?” “I began to wonder the day we sat on the bench outside of Bofinger’s house, but found out for certain the day you hugged me in front of Ish Eliza. My soul tried to flee my body when it sensed yours.”

“You admire me?” “For all you’ve done.” I rested one hand on his cheek. “For all you do.” I cupped the other side of his face. “And for all you still have left to accomplish.”

“Forgive me for not being a stronger man.”

“Abaddon screwed me up, Celeste.” What had he endured in the underworld?

“Now, I understand the precepts taught in guilds—that the best way to save humanity is by teaching humans to save themselves.” He held the glass door of a hole-in-the-wall restaurant open for me, an understated smile softening his expression. “But the boy inside still wishes I could save them all.”

“You have undone me, levsheh.” The archangel’s deep voice vibrated against my forehead, which was still pressed against his clenching throat. “And you, me.” I languorously stroked the sinewy muscles of his shoulder, my fingertips dipping and curving. He was still inside of me, still twitching as though he wasn’t done pouring himself out. “Thank you.” His arms laced around my back and gathered me against him. “Thank you.” “For what?” “For accepting me with all my flaws.”

“I flipped out because I’m tired of hearing you put yourself down. We’re all born equal, even though, you’re right, we are not given equal opportunities.” His fingers rolled into a fist, which he lowered to the island. “Celeste, I swear, I will change that, but—” “But you have another law to amend first. I know.” I covered his fist, then gave it a squeeze.

I pulled out a garment bag and set it on the bed. Inside lay a black silk jumpsuit with a deep-cut leather sleeveless top.

Peach hair and emerald eyes flared behind my lids so I snapped them open and didn’t dare blink. Not once. Not even when my eyeballs began to sting.

“Habamehot!” Asher growled, vanquishing the insubstantial weight at my back. “You have no right to force angels to display their wings without their consent.”

“Maybe that’s the problem. How quiet we all are! Silence is the bane of our existence. I think it’s time we all stop tiptoeing around the Seven and turn this autocracy into a democracy, because for all his heart and intent, Asher is only one man. A man who needs us. A man who needs her.” Tobias’s hand carved through the air toward me. “Not to mention Naya needs a father. Can you imagine if they took us away from Adam, Gabriel? Can you imagine what it would do to our boy?”

“I know what you meant.” Her red wings bristled. “But I will not have one of my fletchings blaming herself for something she didn’t do.” My heart was so squashed it gave a pathetic thump. “How many feathers are you missing?” “Four hundred and thirty-two.” “And are you currently signed up to a sinner?” I swallowed, my throat so raw it hurt. “Yes, but I’m done.” “Well then, let’s head to the Ranking Room.” My eyebrows jolted up. “Together?” “When your mother brought you here, you became my responsibility, and until the day you graduate from my guild, you will stay my responsibility.” She clasped my elbow and led me down the hallways of my childhood.

“He fell in love with a mortal girl just before his ascension.” Her dark eyes traced the fiery veins in the quartz. “I told him I’d take care of her, and that when she died, I’d personally accompany a malakim to harvest her soul. He agreed, but after a year in Elysium, he landed in my guild, his flesh peeling over where his wing bones had once been. He found her again. Married her. They were happy for a while, but then his mind . . .” She inhaled deeply, but the breath barely lifted her narrow chest. “When angels’ wings are burned, so is their knowledge of our world. They don’t forget instantly, but progressively. This is why they lose their minds.”

“Milo Jenkins.” When both Ophan Mira and I twisted around to look at her, she blushed and cleared her voice. “I heard you were trying to find high scorers. Milo Jenkins is worth thirty-one feathers.” Her hand dropped from the lock of hair she was toying with. “I started on him earlier in the week. He’s . . . ripe. Just trace his name.” So I did. The face of a young man with a mohawk and more piercings than skin appeared in place of the older one Mira had suggested. She peered at his rap sheet. “You’re still signed on to him, Fletching Liv.” “I know. But if Celeste would like to take over, I’ll sign off from him.”

“Being naïve isn’t a flaw. God, I wish I could be naïve, but you take one wrong turn, and suddenly, no matter how many right ones you make, you just can’t get out of the ditch. So then you make the most of being in the ditch.”

“Fletching Celeste!” Ah . . . that shrill, nasal voice. Mira’s complexion made her face smudge into her scarlet wings. “A Triple! What in the worlds possessed you to sign on to a Triple?” Her eyes, bright with . . . tears? No, those couldn’t be tears. This woman never cried. “What did she do to you?” She peeled my wrist away from Asher’s torso. “It”—I wrinkled my nose as she prodded my swollen purplish flesh—“feels better than it looks.” She glowered, and then the strangest thing happened. A tear rolled down her cheek. “Ophan, it’s okay.”

You can rewrite this story a million different ways, Celeste, but it will always end the same. It will end with you and me.”

“I’m going to tell you a story. A story I’m not allowed to tell. And you won’t believe a word of it, I’m sure. You’ll think I’m crazy. Probably even call me crazy. And that’s okay. But you have to promise to listen. To every word. And maybe one day, maybe you’ll see something happen, you’ll feel something happen, something unexplainable, and you’ll realize that your friend might not have been as zany as you imagined.”

“Fine. I’ll send Asher to check up on you once a week. Hope you’re looking forward to your celestial nanny.” Oddly enough, my wing bones didn’t even vibrate. Jase made a face. “I take it you choose the apartment. Am I correct?”

“Hey, Cee?” “Yeah?” “From the moment I first saw you, I knew you were an angel.” I rolled my heated eyes. “I wasn’t very angelic back then.” “Don’t sell yourself short. You might not have a halo, but you always had the aura.”

“While you were in there with Jase, I went back to the guild.” His thumbs swept over my cheeks as though playing connect-the-dots with my freckles. “I signed you off from the banker and signed you up to Jase.” “You did what?” He slid his jaw from side to side. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to take the decision out of your hands, but I was . . . I was worried.” My mouth began to gape a little, then a lot. “I knew you’d want to spend time with the guy before you left, and I was coming back to tell you to take your time. That he’d be your last sinner. But you, extraordinary you”—his thumbs stilled—“you managed to reform him in a single hour. I had no doubt you’d get his score down, but I thought it would take you at least a day or two. I thought I’d get a chance to warn you. To prepare you.” I lifted my hands to his. “You’re shaking.” “I’m . . . my . . . they’re . . .” My lips began to tremble as hard as the rest of me. “I’m done?” “You’re done.” My eyelashes flapped wildly, batting away tear after tear. Asher frowned. “I can’t tell if you’re happy or angry right now.” “Happy,” I croaked. “I’m happy. I’m so happy.”

“Are you ready for the rest of our lives, neshahadzaleh?” “I’m ready,”

“Thank you,” I whispered. Her arms were slow to encircle me but eventually they did. “This isn’t goodbye, Celeste.” “I know.” But it felt like it. She squeezed me, then let go. “I’ll come visit.” She smiled. Mira. Smiled. What an unexpected sight. “I promise.”

“Leigh sacrificed her wings because my mother wouldn’t hear of giving Jarod a chance at redemption. I will never forgive her for that.”