Read Online Blood Redemption (Angel's Edge #3) by Vicki Keire - Free Book Online
Authors: Vicki Keire
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looking at me now, telling me my Ethan had killed his own brother’s wife.
“What makes you think I’ll even believe that?” I demanded, ignoring the tingle of doubt that had wormed its way into my stomach.
“Do you see that portrait?” Belial indicated the woman over the bed. “The one who looks more than a bit like you?”
“So what if she does?” I said, ignoring the implication underneath his words.
“
She
was my wife,” he said quietly. For just a millisecond, he looked lost and vulnerable, staring at the portrait. Then it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Come, Caspia. Let’s have breakfast, and I’ll explain things a bit.” He gestured toward the balcony. “I assume you are familiar with the first Nephilim wars?” He took my arm.
I tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but he held me with all the strength of his kind: as unmoving as stone, and cold to the touch where Ethan’s had been warm. His grip was tight, to the point that it hurt, and I gave up the struggle after barely a minute. Belial obviously didn’t care if he left bruises. I felt them forming beneath his hold on me.
And still, those two terrible words wouldn’t go away: Ethan. Murder.
“I don’t want to have breakfast with you,” I said softly, but with an edge. “I’ll tell you about my brother. None of this is necessary.”
“Oh, but it is.” He flung open the double glass doors and dragged me out.
I had my feet planted firmly to the flagstone floor, but to Belial, it didn’t matter. It probably didn’t even register with him that I was resisting. Out on the patio, a small table made of black wrought iron and glass waited for us. Two chairs that looked as if they had been made of twisted thorns waited on either side of the table. Only one place was set. The twilight sky in all its variegated glory continued to move behind us. In Belial’s presence, it lost its beauty, and turned again into something nauseating and hopeless.
“Sit,” he commanded, and so I did as he asked. In this place there was no way to disobey. The cold iron of the chair seeped through the thin silk of my gown, making me want to squirm, longing for the warmth of Belial’s fire inside his room.
Then I remembered the great hall where I first met him, and the fire that had burned bones there. I really didn’t want to find out what the demon used for fuel in his private chambers. I straightened my spine. I would just have to sit and shiver.
“What do you mean?” I found the courage to ask at last. “What did you mean about Ethan being a murderer?”
“‘And when the angels of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful, they took unto themselves wives of all of them whom they chose,’” Belial intoned, obviously reciting a well-rehearsed passage. I recognized it as the Book of Genesis. I’d heard it in the class Dr. Christian had taught on this very subject. “So I took a wife.” He nodded to indicate the room we’d just vacated. “Her.”
“You mean…” I said, trying to grasp the implications.
“Yes, Caspia. I was among the first to Fall. And I Fell for love, just as my brother apparently has.”
“And you think Ethan killed her in this war of yours,” I said. I still couldn’t believe what he’d told me, that the man I loved had murdered his brother’s wife. “Surely there has to be some other explanation.”
“No,” Belial said. “No more about her for now. I believe we had an agreement. You tell me what I want to know, and then I’ll grant you one request.”
“But I need to know more,” I began, stopping short when Belial gave me a sharp, predatory look that chilled me all the way down to my toes.
“Your brother was dying,” he said. He had his back to me now. His clothing was very similar to the uniform everyone else wore, but more ornate. His black and silver cloak snapped and furled in the wind. I brushed my hair from my eyes and looked down at my plate. There was fruit and bread and a
“What makes you think I’ll even believe that?” I demanded, ignoring the tingle of doubt that had wormed its way into my stomach.
“Do you see that portrait?” Belial indicated the woman over the bed. “The one who looks more than a bit like you?”
“So what if she does?” I said, ignoring the implication underneath his words.
“
She
was my wife,” he said quietly. For just a millisecond, he looked lost and vulnerable, staring at the portrait. Then it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Come, Caspia. Let’s have breakfast, and I’ll explain things a bit.” He gestured toward the balcony. “I assume you are familiar with the first Nephilim wars?” He took my arm.
I tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but he held me with all the strength of his kind: as unmoving as stone, and cold to the touch where Ethan’s had been warm. His grip was tight, to the point that it hurt, and I gave up the struggle after barely a minute. Belial obviously didn’t care if he left bruises. I felt them forming beneath his hold on me.
And still, those two terrible words wouldn’t go away: Ethan. Murder.
“I don’t want to have breakfast with you,” I said softly, but with an edge. “I’ll tell you about my brother. None of this is necessary.”
“Oh, but it is.” He flung open the double glass doors and dragged me out.
I had my feet planted firmly to the flagstone floor, but to Belial, it didn’t matter. It probably didn’t even register with him that I was resisting. Out on the patio, a small table made of black wrought iron and glass waited for us. Two chairs that looked as if they had been made of twisted thorns waited on either side of the table. Only one place was set. The twilight sky in all its variegated glory continued to move behind us. In Belial’s presence, it lost its beauty, and turned again into something nauseating and hopeless.
“Sit,” he commanded, and so I did as he asked. In this place there was no way to disobey. The cold iron of the chair seeped through the thin silk of my gown, making me want to squirm, longing for the warmth of Belial’s fire inside his room.
Then I remembered the great hall where I first met him, and the fire that had burned bones there. I really didn’t want to find out what the demon used for fuel in his private chambers. I straightened my spine. I would just have to sit and shiver.
“What do you mean?” I found the courage to ask at last. “What did you mean about Ethan being a murderer?”
“‘And when the angels of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful, they took unto themselves wives of all of them whom they chose,’” Belial intoned, obviously reciting a well-rehearsed passage. I recognized it as the Book of Genesis. I’d heard it in the class Dr. Christian had taught on this very subject. “So I took a wife.” He nodded to indicate the room we’d just vacated. “Her.”
“You mean…” I said, trying to grasp the implications.
“Yes, Caspia. I was among the first to Fall. And I Fell for love, just as my brother apparently has.”
“And you think Ethan killed her in this war of yours,” I said. I still couldn’t believe what he’d told me, that the man I loved had murdered his brother’s wife. “Surely there has to be some other explanation.”
“No,” Belial said. “No more about her for now. I believe we had an agreement. You tell me what I want to know, and then I’ll grant you one request.”
“But I need to know more,” I began, stopping short when Belial gave me a sharp, predatory look that chilled me all the way down to my toes.
“Your brother was dying,” he said. He had his back to me now. His clothing was very similar to the uniform everyone else wore, but more ornate. His black and silver cloak snapped and furled in the wind. I brushed my hair from my eyes and looked down at my plate. There was fruit and bread and a
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