In The Arms of an Angel - 19. Chapter 19 Why Am I Feeling Like This

Uzzi’el paced the small room. It was oppressive and he could barely stand the claustrophobia. His mind was racing, yet curiously blank and he felt…wrong.

“Will you please sit down?” Gabri’el snapped. “We have important things to discuss.”

“But where is he?”

“Where is who?”

“Pasha.”

“How the hell do I know? Back at home I should think, unless he was stupid enough to try to leave.”

“Why can’t I feel him?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Gabriel stretched his long, lean body, putting his feet up on the table, crossed at the ankles and his arms behind his head. Leather creaked as he arched his back and cricked his neck.

“When did you become such a bitch Gabe? It doesn’t matter how much you mock me, Pasha is my soul mate and I should be able to feel him through the connection. He must be hurting, full of confusion.”

“Then it’s a good thing, Uzzi’el. It would be a distraction if the human’s emotions were messing up your thoughts.”

“What thoughts?” Uzzi’el impatiently pushed his heavy golden hair back over his shoulder and stopped pacing to sink into a chair. “There are no thoughts in my head, at least none I can hold on to. I can’t focus on anything. It’s as if my mind is filled with fog…no soup.” He laid his elbows on the table and took his head in his hands. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I can’t concentrate on anything, I can’t….” He sighed. “It’s as if I’m half asleep and I can’t wake up.”

“Well,” Gabriel said, stretching again, “you’d better wake up. We’ve got a rebellion to plan and every day we delay Micha’el is killing more humans, trying to smoke us out and the Council is putting the pieces back together. If we don’t move soon, they’ll get enough support behind them to claw their way back and then where will we be? We have to strike now, while they’re still in disarray, while we still have the sympathy of the people.

“Micha’el’s a good soldier but a bad propagandist. I was the master of that. Without me, the Council couldn’t manipulate a paperclip. I’ve been getting the message out there are they’ve fallen and Micha’el’s gone rogue and people are biting it. We’re riding a swell of public support at the moment but when nothing happens and Micha’el keeps pulling in our supporters it won’t last.”

“I know. I know all that. I know people are relying on me. I know it all but I can’t… I can’t get my head together to have concrete thoughts about anything.”

“Then let me do it for you. One of us has to take control.”

“But you’re not….” Uzzi’el sighed and rubbed his temple. “I’m so tired. I….” He raised his eyes and blinked at Gabri’el. It was as if the air between them was shimmering with a heat haze. Nothing felt entirely real.

Somewhere in the back of his head Uzzi’el knew it would be a really bad idea to let Gabri’el take charge. There was a reason why Gabri’el, the brilliant strategist, wasn’t heading the forces of the revolution and he, nothing more than a pretty face and sunny disposition—as Gabriel often told him—was. There was a reason and it was a good reason. He knew it was a good reason but he just couldn’t…quite…remember….

Gabriel got to his feet and walked around the table. Standing behind Uzzi’el he began to massage his shoulders. Uzzi’el melted. He always did when Gabri’el massaged him. The man had magic hands. “Oh mercy, that feels good,” Uzzi’el murmured, letting his heavy head fall back.

“Ssh,” Gabri’el murmured, stroking his hair. “Why don’t you rest? It’s been a hard time for you. You’ve been ill and it’s going to take time for you to get back on form. There’s nothing much happening right now. Why don’t I take you back to your room and help you relax.”

“No, I have to….”

“What? What do you have to do right now? There’s nothing to do right now but relax.”

“But… Pasha…. The…the revolution. I have plans…people….”

“They’ll wait. Let me help you.”

Uzzi’el closed his eyes, letting Gabri’el’s voice wash over him. He knew he should snap out of it. There was enough spark left to be sounding warning bells, but his mind was so slow, so thick with fog, the warnings wouldn’t come through. “Pasha,” he murmured. “I think there’s something wrong with Pasha.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Pasha, little flower. He’s safe. I made sure of it. You know that.”

“Yes. Yes, I…. I know. But…. Every time I try to think of him or open the connection it feels as if… as if there’s nothing coming back but darkness and it’s overwhelming me.”

“Let me help you, Uzzy. Rest your head against me and close your eyes.” Uzzi’el was glad to comply. Gabri’el’s fingers combing through his hair felt good. “If you’re so worried about Pasha, let me help you connect with him. Open your mind and concentrate. I’ll add my energy, see if I can make it clearer.”

“Really? But you hate….”

“I care about you, little flower. You know I care about you.”

“Yes, I know, but not enough, Gabri’el. It was never enough.”

“Well, maybe it will be enough for this. Relax now. Concentrate on Pasha and we’ll see what we can do.”

Uzzi’el relaxed and let his mind go blank. He thought of Pasha, of the feelings he evoked, of his smell, his touch, the colour of his eyes, the sound of his voice. His lips curved into a smiled as he remembered the touch of his hands and…and… Darkness rushed at him as if along a tunnel, a roiling twisting darkness like a wave of dirty water.

“Gabri’el,” he cried, struggling against it.

“Don’t fight it, little flower,” Gabri’el said softly in his ear. “It’s for the best.”