A flicker of hesitation passed through his eyes. “You’re marked.”
“Marked?” Grace said. Did she have some sort of brand or tattoo on her like those demons? She instinctively started inspecting herself.
“No, not like that,” Caleb said. He put a hand on her shoulder to reassure her. “When you were attacked the first time, the demon drew blood. Now any demon belonging to the same master will wish to claim you. The more of his demons you kill, the bigger a prize you’ll become.”
“Who do they belong to? Is that what the marks on their foreheads meant? They’re branded like cattle?”
“Yes. They belong to the Grand Marquis, Loray. Until we get him, you’re not safe.”
She definitely didn’t like the sound of a Grand Marquis of Hell viewing her as a ‘prize’.
“Have you ever been the target of a demon?”
“None that are still around,” he winked at her. She smiled despite the severity of the situation. It made her feel a little better, although she was still uncomfortable. As if sensing her unease, he added, “Don’t worry, Grace. I’ll protect you.”
“How are you going to do that? I know you’re training me, and I’m learning as fast as I can, but it’s not like you can stay with me twenty-four hours a day.”
“That’s exactly what I intend to do,” he stated matter-of-factly. She looked at him, incredulous.
“You’re not serious. You have a job, a life, and so do I.”
“You won’t have a life if you’re attacked and I’m not there,” he said. Any trace of playfulness in his voice was gone. It made her pause, but only for a moment.
“How will you do your job if you’re always babysitting me? Not to mention, I can’t take you to work with me.”
“It would be highly unlikely for them to attack you at work. It’s too public a place. I’ll take you to work, meet with clients during the day, and pick you up when you’re finished.”
She thought about it for a moment, and grudgingly answered, “I’ll consider it. Excuse me while I get cleaned up.”
Unable to deal with any more information, Grace retreated to the bathroom. She was still dirty from the woods, and she ached all over. She might have brushed off his concern over her, but the severity of the situation had left her trembling. She hoped a nice warm shower would ease both her muscles and her mind.
As she stripped down, she looked at herself in the mirror. She had an angry red welt on her abdomen where she’d been kicked and another on her lower back. She was lucky that she hadn’t cracked a rib. Other little nicks and scrapes littered her arms and legs where the bramble had poked through her workout clothes. While she hadn’t inspected them thoroughly, she suspected they were ruined.
The hot shower felt like pure luxury pouring over her as the water washed away some of her anxiety along with the dirt. She took her time; she massaged the clumps of mud and tangles out of her hair, used an extra-large handful of conditioner, and savored the smell of her vanilla-mint body wash. While only minutes ago her mind had been a tempest of swirling worries and questions, it was now calm and tranquil. She wanted to stay in the pulsating jets until the water turned cold and her toes were prunes, but Caleb was out in the living room and she’d have to face him sooner or later.
Reluctantly, she turned off the shower and dressed. Her cheek throbbing and her bruises aching, she opened the medicine cabinet and popped a few ibuprofen. Then she entered the living room. Caleb was staring out the window with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked as handsome as he did lethal, silhouetted in the light of the sunset, surveying the streets below.
“Is everything alright out there?” She asked coming up behind him.
“I think so. I doubt we’ll have anything else to worry about tonight. Loray will be awaiting his archers’ return for a report,” Caleb turned toward her, a hint of a smile on his face, “He’s going to be waiting for quite a while.”
“Do you want to go shower or clean up?” She asked gesturing to the bathroom. He hesitated. “I’ll be fine. I promise I’ll shout if a demon shows up on the doorstep,” she said.
“Alright,” he responded.
“There’s an extra towel in the linen closet,” she called after him.
While Caleb showered, Grace plopped on the couch and turned on the TV. She started flipping through the channels, looking for nothing in particular, until she stumbled upon her favorite movie, Forrest Gump. Forrest had already reached Vietnam, but she’d seen the film so many times it didn’t matter.
When Caleb rejoined her in the living room, she had calmed enough to ask another question that had been plaguing her. “If demons aren’t metaphorical, and they attack people, how is it that no one knows they exist?”
“Ah, the age-old question,” he sighed, as if he’d heard this one too many times, “Grace, everyone does know about them. They’ve been part of the human tradition since the dawn of civilization.”
“Yes, but as a myth, or something to take on faith. Not as a fact of life.” He must understand what she was trying to get at.
“They used to. For most of human history, actually. There are still pockets of people that do.” His explanation made more sense than Grace cared to admit. In this modern age, people had largely abandoned such superstitions as they were unsupported by science. But, just maybe, they’d forgotten something along the way.
“What are you watching?” he asked, abruptly changing the subject. Apparently, he wasn’t ready for more questions and, for now, she’d roll with it. You caught more flies with honey after all.
“Forrest Gump.”
He stared blankly at her.
“You’ve never heard of this movie?!” Grace shouted a little louder than she had intended. What rock had he been living under? He raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve never really had time to watch movies. Is that a problem?”
“No, I’m just surprised, that’s all.” Of course, he didn’t have time to watch movies. He was out fighting demons. He had more important things to do than memorize every line of Forrest Gump.
It didn’t seem to matter to him that the movie had already started; he’d already settled into his corner of the couch. It amused her to witness his casual interest turn into intense fascination.
When the movie reached the Watergate scandal, a deep, melodious laugh startled her. It was Caleb. She’d never heard more than a controlled chuckle from him. His true, unrestrained laugh was a rich sound that reverberated in the small apartment space. It was also one of the sexiest things she’d heard in her entire life. I’ll never tire of hearing that sound, she thought.
As the movie continued, Grace fought sleep. It was only early evening, but she couldn’t keep her eyes open. She wanted to remain awake and soak in the experience of sharing this film with Caleb, but her body had other ideas. She had pushed herself to her limits today, but she was proud. She had defended herself; for one of the first times in her life, she had felt powerful. And it had been wonderful. She caught herself drifting into daydreams, and tried to wake back up, but the call of sleep was too powerful for her to ignore.
Chapter 8
Kalev had never laughed so freely. While he, like most angels, had once been humorless, over the years, he had developed a witty sarcasm. Unfortunately, it only served to confuse other angels, so he had learned to use it sparingly and then only with his closest friends. Here, the more human he acted the better. Sitting to watch a movie was an indulgence that angels never partook in, but right now, it came with the job description. And he liked it. He wasn’t sure if this movie was entertaining because of the plot, or because of Grace’s obvious enjoyment of it.
A sudden, gentle pressure on his upper arm made him turn his head. Grace had fallen asleep and was leaning against him, her head nuzzled in to press the side of her face against his bicep. He’d never had someone fall asleep against him like this. He’d always thought it would be uncomfortable, but it was just the opposite. She was so soft and warm aga
inst him; it felt right to have her there.
What would it be like to always have her beside him? Kalev quickly banished the thought. She was human; he was not. They could never be. He was not allowed to have a relationship with a human. In fact, he was never going to have a relationship with anyone – angels weren’t supposed to ‘feel’ this way. They were supposed to be above such transitory and primitive sentiments. Right now, though, he had so damn many emotions it terrified him. In the past few centuries he had experienced shadows of what he’d come to understand were emotions. But then he’d rescued a little girl from a fire that had killed both of her parents. Since then his emotions had increased in strength, frequency and complexity.
And this week? He’d become barely recognizable to himself. His mind had been a roiling pot of fear, anger, desire, frustration, admiration, attraction, and a million other things he couldn’t even begin to put words to. The fact that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to stop it terrified him even more. The Council would be appalled by his lack of self-control.
And yet, despite the potential consequences, he couldn’t stop himself from moving the arm she was leaning against so that he could reach around her and hold her against him. She murmured unintelligibly and nestled into him. He looked down at her face. It was beautiful; her long lashes gently dusted her high cheekbones, and her damp hair lay in soft waves over her shoulders. With her tucked against his chest, he realized she was too warm. He put a hand to her forehead; she was feverish. He’d guessed correctly then. The arrows had been dipped in poison.
He ever-so-carefully placed a finger on the cut on her cheek and released a tiny amount of qudra directly into it. The right amount would cure the poison and work on healing the wound; too much and she’d become as helpless as Dezzi. The choice was clear though—if he did nothing, she would slowly but surely die. He released his power for a fraction of a second. The injury on her cheek knitted itself to near closed, indicating the right amount. He kissed her forehead to make sure the fever had dissipated and then allowed himself to relax into the couch and finish the movie.
✽✽✽
As the feather on screen signaling the end of the film floated away, Kalev carefully slid out from under Grace, making sure not to wake her. He tucked one arm under her shoulders, the other under her knees, and gently scooped her up from the couch. He brought her to her bed and laid the white sheet and the cornflower blue comforter over her.
She looked so peaceful, so radiant, lying there, her chest gently rising and falling. All he wanted was to stay there with her and make sure she was safe. Regrettably, he knew that to truly protect her he would need to go back out and uncover what he could. The more knowledge he had about Loray’s forces, interests, and plans, the better he would be able to protect Grace. He wouldn’t, however, leave Grace unprotected.
The obvious choice was the one angel that Kalev trusted above all others. Gavriel had been his friend for centuries and had been one of the few angels not to forsake him after his demotion. While Gavriel hadn’t exactly understood why Kalev has saved the girl when he hadn’t been ordered to, it hadn’t mattered. He’d trusted that Kalev had had good intentions.
Gavriel currently held a position as a messenger angel. Through a complex chain of command, a message from God would be passed down to Gavriel, and he would present it to one of the Chosen Ones. Chosen Ones were future saints, prophets, or sometimes just ordinary people, who needed to be guided along a particular path in order to maintain the balance in the master design.
Kalev walked out into the living room and tried to clear his thoughts. Images of Grace rushed through each time he attempted to empty the space, like water in a boat full of holes. Concentrate, Kalev. He took a few deep breaths and finally found the quiet he needed. I need your help. He repeated the words over and over in his mind. It only took a minute for the Viking-like angel to appear in the entranceway.
“How can I be of assistance to you, Kalev?”
Kalev tried to explain his situation with Grace as simply as he could. Gavriel listened without interruption, nodding occasionally. Whatever he thought about it he kept to himself. His stoic features revealed nothing.
“So, can you help me?” Kalev asked him.
“Of course. It would be my pleasure to provide you with aid.”
“Gavriel, if she wakes up before I get back, you’re going to have to try to talk to her as if you’re an average person,” Kalev warned.
“Does she not have an advanced vocabulary?” he responded, looking perplexed.
“No, she’s smart as a whip, but that’s not what I mean. She doesn’t know what we are. You can’t talk to her like you are delivering a message from heaven. You have to talk to her like you’re a human.”
“I see. I shall put forth my best effort,” he responded. He smiled broadly.
“Gavriel, pretend I’m Grace, and I’ve just woken up and found you in the living room. I’ve just asked who you are. What do you say?” Gavriel seemed to think for a moment and then put out his hand stiffly.
“Greetings, Grace. I am Gavriel, friend of Kalev. I am here to watch over you.”
Kalev put his head in his hands and groaned. “First of all, people say, ‘hi’ or ‘hey’ or ‘hello’. You sound like an extraterrestrial if you say ‘greetings’. Second, no one here is named Gavriel or Kalev,” he started but Gavriel interrupted.
“But I am named Gavriel.”
“Yes, you are named Gavriel, but the name Gavriel screams ‘angel’. I told her my name was Caleb. Why don’t you say your name is Gav, short for Gavin. That’s close enough.” Gavriel frowned but nodded. “Third, ‘friend of Kalev’ sounds like a strange medieval title. Just say, ‘I’m Caleb’s friend.’”
“I am unused to speaking to humans in such a fashion,” Gavriel reiterated.
“I realize that, but can you try? Have you not been listening to how modern people speak?”
“I have not had a messenger posting in an English-speaking country in nearly 200 years. I am largely unacquainted with the nuances of modern English. Is the difference in my dialogue so noticeable?” Gavriel seemed surprised.
“Just try not to talk too much,” Kalev responded. “I’ll be back by sunrise.”
✽✽✽
Kalev tried not to picture what could be happening back at Grace’s apartment. With how taxing the day had been yesterday, he hoped Grace wouldn’t wake up until later in the morning, but he couldn’t be sure. Worse yet, despite a full night out, he hadn’t learned much; his trip would have been for nothing except that he’d had the opportunity to change clothes.
Thankfully, he was already returning to Grace’s, and the sun had only started to peak out from behind the horizon. With any luck, he’d be back shortly to relieve Gavriel with Grace none the wiser. He cringed as he imagined what a meeting between the two of them might be like. He hadn’t anticipated Gavriel’s antiquated English, as they hadn’t spoken it together in centuries. He’d just assumed that Gavriel had kept up with it.
A sharp cry of alarm caused Kalev to instinctively run in its direction. The soul of a middle-aged woman was stumbling down the street, clearly confused by her current state. Kalev looked around but didn’t see anyone in soul recovery coming to lift her. Sighing, Kalev approached the woman and gave her the typical, ‘you’ve died and I’m here to escort you to heaven’ spiel. He probably could’ve done it with more tact, but he was in a hurry.
Startled, but without much fuss, she placed her hands in his, and he pushed off. He was shocked when his shoulders nearly popped from the sockets. He hadn’t expected the immense weight of the woman’s soul. He grabbed her from under her arms instead and strained to lift her but could only make very slow progress. He sent a call out to Jophial; there was no way he was going to make it all the way up alone.
“Jesus, woman, what have you done?” He growled through gritted teeth against the strain.
“Nothing. It wasn’t me, I was just,” she started sobbing hystericall
y.
“The weight of the soul doesn’t lie, lady,” Kalev admonished. “You have a long walk ahead of you.”
“What do you mean walk? That’s it? I just walk?” She let out a laugh. “Oh, that’s not too bad.”
“The walk of Purgatory isn’t an easy road to travel. You will have many lifetimes to consider your sins. If I were you, I’d start now.” Kalev continued to struggle. He hated lifting the heavy ones. Not only was it incredibly demanding, but they must have done something heinous for their souls to weigh so much.
His annoyance grew. Here he was, carrying this woman who had committed some atrocity or another, instead of protecting Grace. When he’d heard the soul’s call, he’d rushed to it without thinking, and for the majority of humanity it would have been a quick and relatively easy job. Of course, lucky him had to run into a ‘World’s Shittiest Person’ contender. He didn’t like putting this woman’s soul ahead of Grace’s safety.
Down below, a group of scavenger demons was on the prowl, following the scent of the freshly released soul. If Jophial didn’t arrive in the next few minutes, there would be serious trouble.
“Listen, lady. Do you see those creatures down there?” He bent his head toward the ground. She gasped.
“Oh my God, what are those things? They’re hideous!” she shrieked.
“They are demons, and they’re after you. You are too heavy for me to lift in time, and my backup seems unavailable. You better start asking forgiveness for your sins and fast. It might make you just light enough for us to make it.”
“What do you mean make it?!” she shouted in alarm.
“They’ll take you to hell; I don’t have time to explain more. Take your pick!” Kalev shouted at her. She started wailing hysterically.
“I’m sorry! Please forgive me!” she cried. “Transporting those girls was wrong! I only thought about the money. Now, I know it was a mistake!”
“What do you mean ‘transporting’ girls?” Kalev hissed in her ear.
Guardian Page 8
