I was deliberate in leaving out the part where Yescha and Michael had urged me to break up with him. I had no intention of kicking him to the curb, so what he didn’t know in this case wouldn’t hurt him.
He wrapped me in another tight embrace. “Good. That’s great news.”
“The thing is, we have a fight ahead of us. I may not be an intentional sacrifice, but I’m not completely in the clear,” I cautioned. “What about you?” I changed the subject. “Now that you know who your father is…”
“Honestly? I don’t know where I’m at with it,” he admitted. “I’ve had all day for the shock to wear off, so I guess I’m relieved just to know. But it feels weird to have a label to put on me… Nephilim… It still doesn’t tell me much about what I am.”
“But it gives us somewhere to start. We can research, find out more about others like you.”
“The angels weren’t too keen on you hanging around me.”
My shielding him from the truth hadn’t prevented him from seeing it for himself.
“So what? You’ll notice they didn’t say you’re irredeemable. You can’t be condemned for the sins of your father and you’ve shown us your true character. That’s all I care about.”
Creed smiled. “I still can’t believe you stepped in front of an angel’s sword for me.”
“It’s no different from when we’re in the field. I won’t sit back and watch while someone I care about is threatened—not even by an angel.”
Yescha hadn’t been completely out of line based solely on what she knew of Creed’s kind, but tensions had needed to be taken down a notch. I had done the only thing I knew in the moment would get her attention.
“Besides, I had dragged you there,” I continued. “Wouldn’t be fair to just serve you up to be skewered.”
I smiled and tried to make light of it. There was nothing easy about learning Creed was the son of a Fallen, but I imagined it was a thousand times harder on him, no matter how good a face he was putting on.
“I’m glad we both made it out alive,” he said. “Thank you for making me go.”
He moved in closer and eased into a lengthy kiss. Whether it was sheer relief that I returned safely or the need to reconnect after our encounter with the angels that drove his desire, I didn’t care. Our focus had been on hellhounds and survival and questions of such gravity that we hadn’t taken enough time to simply be together. As his hands moved over my skin, I found I craved his touch—I hadn’t had enough of it.
The yoga pants and tank top I had put on after my shower made an unnecessary barrier to that touch, and I couldn’t get them off fast enough. Creed yanked his t-shirt off and cast it to the floor before recapturing my lips with his own. One of his hands went to my hair, his fingertips sending tingles across my scalp and down my entire body. He pulled just hard enough to expose my throat. The stubble on his jawline scratched against the delicate skin on my neck, my shoulder, my collarbone… more, as he left hungry kisses behind greedy hands. And just like coming and going from the Astral Plane, I lost all sense of time. I forgot everything but him.
* * *
Since I was on backup duty that night, Creed and I rode to headquarters together. He pulled into a spot behind Casey’s Bronco and put it in park.
“Will you tell Hugo?” I asked.
“Yeah, tonight, since he’s not here. I’ll talk to Dylan first while we’re on the road, then call Hugo.”
He still gripped the steering wheel, white-knuckling it while he laid out his plan. It wasn’t as easy as he was making it sound.
“After that, I’ll let it come out naturally. I don’t wanna make it into some big thing, you know?”
“Yeah, I gotcha,” I told him.
I understood his reasoning. It’d be extra awkward to stand in front of the group and explain that his father was a fallen angel. And not only a Fallen, but one who invited the animosity of the Archangels themselves. No matter how accepting the others were, it would be uncomfortable.
Reaching over, I took one of his hands off the wheel and held it in both of mine. I brushed my lips across the backs of his knuckles.
“It’s going to be fine,” I said. “I’m with you. I know the others will be, too.”
“I hope you’re right.”
His answering smile was a sad one as he placed a warm palm against my cheek. He kissed me softly and stroked his thumb across my cheekbone.
“We’d better get inside. Dylan will be waiting for me,” he murmured.
“Let him wait,” I purred and pressed my lips to his.
My brazenness drew an honest to goodness laugh from somewhere deep in his chest and put a twinkle back in his eye.
“You know how he is if he’s kept waiting.”
“True,” I winked. “But I expect to continue that in the morning.”
“Your expectations won’t be disappointed.”
Since I had nearly made him late, Creed went straight around back to the armory. I went into the main house and stopped to say hi to Garret.
“How’s it going?”
He adjusted his thick black glasses. “Well, I’m working out the final kinks in a program that will help us track vampire activity.”
“That’s amazing—I didn’t expect you to get it done so quickly.”
“It’s a simple program, really. A mapping system. And Stacey lent a hand with some of the features. I don’t know why I never thought of it myself.”
He deflected my praise in that diffident way he had, but we all knew who the technological guru was, no matter what he said to diminish his natural capabilities.
“We didn’t think it was a need until now,” I shrugged.
“The good news is, I can include historical data. Coordinates from the times you guys called in or texted. I’ve logged it all. I’m hoping to crunch the stats later tonight.”
“Even better,” I told him. “I’ll get out of your hair in that case. Be in the armory if you need me.”
The four on watch that night were already armed and ready to hit the road when I got out there. I was their backup, the only one since it was Sunday night and it was easier for the others to be off.
On his way out the door, Creed paused to pass me his keys and plant a kiss on my lips.
“I know I don’t need to tell you to be safe out there,” I told him.
“You don’t. I will,” he smiled.
“Call me if you need me.”
I exchanged greetings and goodbyes with my brother, Joss, and Casey as they made their way out. They all had fair warning about the hellhounds along with silver bullets in their guns, but I still hoped they’d be spared a run-in. Better still, maybe we’d be lucky enough the pair from the night before were the only ones. I doubted the thought the moment it crossed my mind, but it was a pleasant one to entertain.
Even though I had come to the armory to get my gear and be at the ready, Yescha’s advice to work with the light stuck with me. Instead of trading my lead bullets for silver as I had intended, I stopped in the center of the expansive room. It felt odd, standing all alone in the quiet, but the feeling of silliness quickly faded as I concentrated on the power within me.
There were some ways in which I had gained control of it already. For one, I didn’t light up like a Christmas tree every time Creed touched me. But I could also channel it from being the all-over glow to focusing it in one place, like my hand.
I thought of how Dylan could cast fireballs from his hands. If I could somehow focus the light, create an orb or even a beam…
The surge welled up from deep within, and I captured it. Directed it to my left arm. The glow traveled down to my hand, and I opened my fingers. Brighter… brighter… The pure white light gathered until it shone more brilliantly than I had seen yet.
I lifted my hand and tried to project the light outward. It flared in its brilliance, but never traveled past my fingertips. The exertion had my chest pumping with deep breaths and I dropped my arm, the light going dim as I did
.
My shoulders slumped with my frustration. It was only the first try, though. I caught my breath and recalled Yescha’s words: Work with the light. It will do as you command.
Focusing anew, I sent the light into my left arm again. As if sensing what I wanted it to do, it gathered more quickly this time. I raised my hand to shoulder height, this time with my palm up, so I could see what was happening.
Again, the light flared in intensity. I concentrated all my efforts on projecting it out of my hand and into an orb. It flickered white and came out just past my fingertips. I curved my fingers to capture it, but couldn’t move it past where it was.
My breath heaved with the exertion. I pushed past what I thought was my limit, but still no payoff.
Determined, I shed my jacket and tossed it on a workbench.
This time, the light glowed in my left arm with only a single thought. My focus was laser-beam accurate and the light and I worked together, moving past the struggle. Something surged within me, a dam breaking. It no longer felt like the Holy Light and I were separate beings.
I held my hand up in front of me and watched with awe as the light did exactly what I wanted. Re-centering, I wrapped the beams in my hand around themselves until I held a perfect ball of the white glow.
Pointing my palm away, I sent the orb flying just as the armory door opened. The light struck the doorway only inches from Gabriel, yanking surprised sounds from both of us.
“Gabe!” My hands flew to my mouth and my eyes flared wide.
The white light clung to where it had hit, then dissolved into nothing. It didn’t leave behind so much as a mark.
I rushed toward my partner. “I’m so sorry… I was working on controlling it and didn’t expect anyone to come in.”
“Don’t worry about it. No harm done. How was it coming before I interrupted?”
Shrugging my shoulders, I huffed a little. “Frustrating. But I’ve made a lot of progress just tonight. I really should’ve been doing this all along, but I thought the light just sort of did what it wanted… So, what are you doing here? I thought you had the night off.”
“I do. I wanted to check on you, though, and put in some extra time out here.”
Eyeing his dressy clothes, I was dubious. He had on charcoal gray slacks and a black dress shirt, and, knowing Gabe, there had probably been a tie involved at some point. Hardly attire for casting silver bullets.
“You look awfully nice for working out here,” I told him exactly what I was thinking.
“Well, I had a date,” he said.
I checked my watch—not even ten o’clock.
“Did she have a curfew?” I teased.
Gabriel laughed. “No… I cut it short and dropped her off after dinner. She just wasn’t my type.”
I shrugged. “It happens. I didn’t know you were back in the dating pool after what you said about Suzie Levinson the other night. Wait,” I stopped, pointed a finger at him. “The date wasn’t with Suzie, was it?”
Bigger laugh. “No way. That has pre-nup written all over it. Not looking to be her next ex-husband.”
I laughed so hard I had to clutch my sides. “I should tell you how wrong that is, but you’re totally right.”
After the side-splitting giggle, I caught my breath. “Want any help? I’ve got all night, obviously.”
“I’d love some. Aric’s working, otherwise he’d be here.”
“Speaking of working, don’t you have to tomorrow?”
Gabe unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled them up. “I do, but no early meetings and I didn’t feel like going home yet. So, now you’re fussing over my schedule?” he asked with a smile.
“It’s only fair since you nag me over how much sleep I get.”
“True.”
We went to the long work table and bench that spanned most of one side wall of the armory. There were three sets of molds full of the casings he and Aric had cast in the early morning hours.
“I’m doing one caliber at a time to stay organized. These are forties, since that’s what all of us use most,” Gabriel explained.
I nodded to show I understood. “Let’s remind everyone to be judicious with their aim since this isn’t a quick process.”
“All too true.” Gabe popped the top on one of the molds to reveal 100 pristine silver .40-caliber casings.
“So what can I help with?” I asked.
“At this stage, keeping me company,” my partner chuckled. “This part’s tedious. I’ve got to get the exact amount of powder in each one of these. Too much and—”
“Bigger bang than we bargained for,” I supplied.
“Yeah, that.”
Gabe handed me a pair of clear safety glasses. “Your eyes are the most important we’ve got.”
“The sharpest. I dunno about most important,” I said, sliding them on.
Putting on his own pair, Gabriel reached for a canister of gunpowder. He collected a measuring cup and a tiny funnel and got to work. He was right—it was the kind of fiddly, detailed labor that would get monotonous all too quickly.
“Did you stop and talk to Garret on your way in?” I asked, breaking the silence.
“No, I came straight out here,” he answered without missing a beat. “Why?”
“He’s almost done with a program to document vampire activity. He said it’ll process our historical data, too.”
“Excellent. It’ll be good to start with some hot spots instead of just throwing darts at the map blindfolded.”
“Agreed. But I have to wonder if we’ll know it when we find it,” I paused. I hadn’t told him about Yescha and Michael, or any of it. “Yescha said it’s a place I’m already familiar with, but she’s forbidden from telling me exactly where. Something about the Balance.”
I made air quotes when I said it. The whole concept of keeping a balance of power between Heaven and Hell was utter bullshit to me.
Just duke it out already. Winner takes all.
“So you did go. I wondered when you didn’t say anything.”
“I was getting around to it. Besides, I think I have you to thank for it since whatever you said to Creed convinced him to take me. He said he’d do anything if it was for me.”
“He’s not the only one,” Gabriel murmured. I started to ask what he meant, but he moved on briskly. “Don’t thank me unless it was good news. Was it?”
“Mixed bag. I met an Archangel, which was interesting.”
“Seriously?” he asked, sounding more awed than I felt. “Which one?”
“Not your namesake. The other one—Michael.”
“Wow. How was that?”
“Like I said… interesting. He was a lot like Yescha, only bigger and very… gold. Anyway, they told us about Creed’s origins.” I paused and had a brief internal debate about whether to tell my partner, but decided to in the end. Creed already knew I talked to Gabe about everything. He had to have guessed I’d spill the tea if I saw him that night. “He’s a Nephilim. They weren’t too happy about it, but seeing as how he’s been helping us—”
“Wait, slow down,” he interrupted and looked up from his work. “Creed’s a Nephilim?”
“You know what that is?”
“Of course. You don’t? I thought your degree was in World History?”
“Yeah, World History. Not biblical apocrypha.”
Gabriel ignored my sarcasm. “How many generations is he removed from the Fallen who sired his line?”
“His line? What do you…? None. No generations—he’s the son of Azazel.”
Passing a hand over his freshly shaven face, he blew out a breath. “That’s a big one, Rem.”
“I know. Or, at least I think I know. Bad big?”
“Not necessarily. We’ve known Creed for months now. Knowing who his father is doesn’t suddenly change who he is.”
I told Gabe about the rest of our talk with the angels, about how they sent Creed away and we talked about the breech, and Yescha telling me to work with the light
. I left out the part where they had urged me to leave Creed. Since I hadn’t told him myself, I didn’t want to risk him finding out by accident. And I didn’t want to poison the well.
“On the positive side, now we have something to go on to find the Crossroads, and we know you’re not destined for the grave just because of the Holy Light,” Gabe said. “What will Creed do about his news?”
“He said he was going to tell Dylan tonight. Since they’ve been partnered up, it made sense to out it to him first. Then, he was planning to call Hugo.”
I glanced at my watch again. If he had told both Dylan and Hugo, I would have expected to hear from him by then. I hoped it didn’t mean trouble, either of the disagreement type or the vampire type.
“And after that?” Gabe prompted.
“Just let it come out naturally—no big announcement. I mean, it won’t come as any surprise that I’ve told you. And you know how Dylan is.”
“He’s worried about how we’ll react,” he commented.
“A little, but mostly he doesn’t want to make a big fuss.”
My partner went back to meticulously filling silver casings. “Not a big fuss, but it’ll be something to talk about. Speaking of talking… I’m glad you trust me now when there’s something going on instead of trying to do everything yourself.”
“There were a lot of things that happened, specifically Dylan getting kidnapped, that showed me I was bull-headed in thinking I needed to handle everything on my own.”
“You wouldn’t be who you are if you weren’t bull-headed,” he said, the corners of his lips turning up.
I grinned and gave him a light slap on the shoulder. “I’m serious. I can’t do any of this without you, but I think you know that.”
Pausing his work to look up at me, Gabe grew serious. “That’s not true, Rem. You’re capable of doing anything you decide to do and you don’t need me. But everybody needs help sometimes, and I’m here for those times… Anything you need.”
“That goes both ways, you know.”
Gabriel nodded once and didn’t break eye contact. “I do… I do know.”
I was taken back to the time when we had fought Valan at Creek Crossing, and I had confessed to caring about him. Standing in the rain, I made my feelings known, but he had let the moment grow awkward. Probably because he cared about me no more than a partner in the field should and now, thankfully, a best friend.
Three Times Burned: A Paranormal Fantasy (Remington Hart Book 3) Page 5
