by Alisa Woods
Oh no. A chill swept through him. Why in all the heavens had he not thought of this?
Charlotte’s gasp and the cries of exclamation from the others bounced around the crowded lab, but Tajael didn’t have to turn around or peer at the screen to know the crane had disappeared. He still didn’t know where it had gone, but he knew exactly what it had done.
Sent a signal.
To the entire magical realm.
Holy angels of light. He scrambled to turn around the Flash figurine, to catch Charlotte’s attention, but she was in the midst of hugging each of her workers by turn, a hand over her mouth to contain her smile and a glassing of tears in her eyes. But this was urgent. It was just as when the treaty was renewed in the House of Smoke by the birth of Erelah’s child, tiny Aurora. The treaty was magical in source—no mere agreement between immortals, it was carved from an ancient curse, True Love, and Death. Forces that carried magical weight and were magically binding. So when it renewed—when the conditions were satisfied to make the treaty continue to be True—there was no debate. The effect was felt throughout the immortal realm by everyone connected to it and sensitive enough to feel it.
A ripple in the fabric of magic space.
A signal.
And Charlotte just sent one.
Tajael needed to move her, and he needed to do it now. He spun The Flash figurine, faster and faster, an unmistakable sign he prayed would catch her eye. If not, he would forsake all cloaking and pretense and simply appear and inform her of the danger she was in. Thankfully, she caught sight of it and, to the surprise of her colleagues who were just now starting to power down the machine, she muttered some excuse and scurried from the lab. He hurried after her, and as soon as she was out of sight of the others, he dropped his cloak.
“We have to leave,” he said.
“Why?” Her eyes went wide. “Did something go wrong?”
“No. Something went terribly right.” He didn’t bother to explain further—he simply reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. Then he twisted and opened an interdimensional door and stepped through… bringing Charlotte with him.
Chapter Ten
Holy shit, Tajael had taken her to heaven
And not the heaven she experienced with fantasies of Tajael and Mr. Buzzy.
Charlotte didn’t even believe in heaven, but this place… everything around her glowed in a soft, white light—the walls, the floor, the ceiling—just like every picture any human had drawn about a mystical place they had never seen. Although, as her eyes adjusted, she could see it was just a small room, maybe twelve-foot square, with nothing in it but a platform near the floor and another smaller one above. Could be just an ordinary room with crazy strange lighting… only it wasn’t.
She’d felt the squeeze when he’d brought her here. She’d felt the after-effects of whatever process she had just gone through. She’d traveled!
“This is it,” she breathed. “The over-dimension.” It took just a step to reach these walls that glowed with their own light. They looked to be made of crystal. She reached out to touch the nearest one but then hesitated and shot a look to Tajael. “Is it safe for me to touch?”
“Yes, of course.” He ran a hand through his hair.
She pressed her fingers quickly to the wall—it was slightly cool to the touch, and it hummed—then she turned to him. “Where are we?”
“Markos’s Dominion.” His eyes were wild with agitation, then he frowned hard at the floor like he was thinking something through.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Why did you bring me here?”
“Your experiment worked, Charlotte,” he said, exasperated. “And the ripples of that are being felt… well, I’m not sure how far. Or if anyone truly knows what it means. But everyone from fae to shadowkind to the dragons had to have felt it. They must know something has happened.”
“And that’s a problem.” She wasn’t sure how much of a problem, but he’d been warning her about the complexities of the politics of his immortal realm. She’d listened, but she guessed there was part of her that didn’t really believe… until she was standing in the middle of a glowing heavenly box.
“I’m not sure how much of a problem, but yes,” he said tightly. “Definitely a problem. I had to get you out of there, in case some shadow angeling tracked it back and decided to investigate.”
“Wait, what?” Now her alarm was shooting up. “Are Jimmy and the guys in danger?”
“All of this is dangerous.” Tajael frowned. “Come—I need to take you to Markos. He needs to understand what’s happened.”
“Aren’t we already in his Dominion?” She was seriously confused.
“This is just my cell,” Tajael said impatiently. He waved his hand at the wall, and a door slid away to reveal a corridor outside. “Come with me.” He beckoned her through it, and she quickly followed. The walls in the hallway were the same softly-glowing crystal, slightly jagged to give a bit of texture that diffused the light more. But as she trailed her hand along it, there was also more of that humming. “Everything here seems like it’s… alive somehow.” That wasn’t quite right, but she wasn’t sure how else to describe it.
“Markos called his Dominion into being. It is crafted from magic.” He threw her a look. “Dimensional energy. Everything here is comprised of it. This way.” He turned down one hallway, then another. They passed another ridiculously beautiful male dressed in the same revealing toga that Tajael wore—he stopped and stared openly at her as they passed.
When they’d turned another corner, she whispered, “Should I get a toga, too? So I can blend in?”
“Everyone in the Dominion already knows I’ve brought a human here,” he said tightly. “Markos is waiting for us in the receiving room.”
“Markos?” She was still wrapping her head around this. “You mean the angel Markos. I’m going to meet an actual angel.”
He gave her a small smirk. “They’re not pure Virtue all the time.”
She couldn’t tame her wide-eyed expression, so she didn’t even try. She just soaked in everything about this place. The slightly cool temperature—was all of the over-dimension this way? Or did Markos craft his heavenly palace of crystal to be cool on purpose? The few times she’d touched Tajael—like recently, on earth—his skin was always hot to the touch. Maybe angelings just had a higher-than-human body temperature, but what about the angels? Did they even have bodies? Everything here seemed so normal, so solid and three-dimensional, and yet simultaneously so strange.
She had a million questions.
Tajael swiped open a door in the wall, and they stepped into a room twenty times larger than his “cell”—and every angeling in the place was staring their way. Tajael took her hand—something he never did—and marched her past their frankly-staring faces. He headed toward a small alcove off to the side where there was some kind of throne with a large statue posed on it.
Wait, no… the statue moved.
Charlotte’s mouth fell open, and she mirrored the expression of everyone else in the room, blankly staring at this… creature. A god, her mind told her, but she rejected that. Yet holy fuck he was magnificent. And large. Undeniably larger than any human who had ever lived, nevertheless he was perfectly proportioned in every way, from head to toe. And beautiful. She thought Tajael was insanely gorgeous—and he was—but this was an unearthly beauty. Almost frightening.
She vaguely remembered that not all angels were good. Or peaceful. Not just the shadow ones that Tajael told her were what happened to Fallen angels, but the Warrior ones, too. They had a terrible righteousness that resulted in things like vampires sliced practically in half in Seattle alleyways. Not that she wasn’t grateful to Tajael for saving her… but that image still haunted her.
Markos, as he stood to greet them, thrummed with such power, it chilled her.
“A Guardian doesn’t usually bring their charge to my Dominion.” Markos’s voice boomed, and just like his body was too large to be human, his
voice was a little too much.
She winced, unsure if he was speaking to her, even though his gaze was locked on her like a laser sighting.
“I had no choice,” Tajael said hastily. His hand was still in hers, and he pulled her closer. Protective. Markos’s attention was riveted, following the motion closely.
It made her heart pound. Was she in danger here, too?
Markos finally said, in a more normal volume of voice, “My apologies. We seldom have mortals in our realm. I forget the sensitivity of your ears.” He finally looked to Tajael. “You did well to bring her. She’s much safer here.”
Tajael looked relieved and tipped his head in acknowledgment. “You felt it, then. Which means others must have as well. If she’s to continue her research—”
Markos held up a massive hand which stopped Tajael cold. “There is no rush.”
“No rush?” she asked, finally daring to speak up. Tajael seemed startled, but he didn’t stop her. “My colleagues are still there. The dimensional drive, all our work, all the data—”
“Dimensional drive,” Markos cut her off with a smirk. “Interesting choice of words.”
Charlotte frowned, not quite sure what he meant by that.
“They need protection,” Tajael said. “This is only the first test. There will be many to follow. We’ll need a legion or more—”
“We?” Markos said, with a pointed look.
Tajael’s mouth moved, but no sound came out.
Charlotte held her breath. While she would give anything for another hot kiss from Tajael—and a hundred anythings for a full night of kisses and more—she had absolutely no frame of reference for what this angel, Markos, expected from him. But she would back Tajael up the whole way—if he said there was nothing between them, she’d emphatically agree. Even if it would break her heart a little. Or maybe a lot.
Tajael finally worked words out of his mouth. “All angels of light have an interest here. Dr. Netherman has made a tremendous advance for humanity. She is an asset that must be protected at all costs.”
Dr. Netherman. Her heart sank. Then, when he dropped her hand, her shoulders dropped with it.
“Of course,” Markos said with a tip of his head. “I’ll send Oriel immediately to watch over those in her realm.”
Tajael visibly swallowed. She didn’t know who this Oriel was and couldn’t understand why that made him nervous.
Markos continued, “And I’ll see about gathering a legion for a proper defense.”
“Thank you,” Tajael said.
“Meanwhile, Charlotte should remain in your cell,” Markos said. “Where you can continue your personal protection.”
Tajael’s mouth dropped open. “It shouldn’t take that long to—”
“It might take a while,” Markos said coolly.
Tajael seemed almost… angry? She couldn’t understand it.
“It would be better…” she started, carefully, watching the reactions from both Tajael and Markos. Tajael was looking to her desperately for help, and Markos seemed mildly amused that she was speaking. So, Tajael’s side it was… as if there were any doubt. “It would be better if I returned sooner,” she finished. “My absence will be noticed. People, especially my colleagues, will wonder what happened to me. Not to mention, research takes time. Any delays—”
“I assure you we’ll do what we can,” Markos cut her off. Then he looked to Tajael. “I understand that you’ve already been intimate with Ms. Netherman.”
Her mouth dropped open. What the hell?
“That is an… overstatement.” Tajael was so flustered, he seemed barely able to get the words out. Charlotte felt like she should say something, but this conversation was a minefield, and she had no idea where to step.
“There are many who will be curious,” Markos went on, almost as if he hadn’t heard Tajael. “I’ll ensure that you’re undisturbed in your cell.”
It was almost like he was commanding them to stay in Tajael’s room. Which, if Markos didn’t want them being intimate—not that it was any of his damn business, but what did she know about angels and angelings—then why keep them together in that tiny room?
She was thoroughly confused.
“She’ll require human sustenance,” Tajael said stiffly.
“It shall be done.”
And even Charlotte could hear the dismissal.
Tajael turned and seemed like he was ready to storm out. He hesitated long enough to glance back and make sure she was coming. But of course she was—whatever this angel tug-of-war was about, she was totally on Tajael’s side.
But he didn’t take her hand this time. And that hurt.
They walked in silence all the way back to his cell.
Once inside, Tajael let out a growl of frustration—something she’d literally never seen him do before—then his wings unfurled, and he flew up to the top of the room. She wasn’t sure how he managed it because there wasn’t even room for his full wingspan in the tiny cell, but once he got there, he dropped back onto the shelf near the ceiling, hooking his feet into something that allowed him to swing down, head-first, and hang.
His arms reached toward the floor, and his wings likewise drooped. His eyes were closed.
She just stood there, staring, not sure what to do.
He spoke without opening his eyes. “I’m gathering what tiny shreds of Patience I have before I go full shadow in the middle of a Dominion of light.” The scowl on his face, like some kind of angry meditation, seemed to back that up.
“Does the upside down thing help?” she asked.
“A little.”
He was gloriously sexy in this pose—she wondered if he had any idea. His toga hung upside down too, which meant the short drapings were covering part of his muscular stomach instead of the small briefs he wore underneath. Emphasis on small… especially compared to the male parts they were trying to contain. She’d gotten a shrouded glimpse of what he was packing that night of her delusions—when his erection tented out his toga—but that was hazy. This was very clearly on display, behind a thin piece of fabric that made her mouth water with the possibilities. And he wasn’t even hard. Sweet laws of physics…
She pulled in a breath and tried to calm her raging fantasies. Tajael was obviously distressed, she was in another dimension, there were serious things to think and say and do. Making out really shouldn’t be in her top ten.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.
Tajael scowled harder, then he curled up, unhooked whatever held his feet in place, and somersaulted to land next to her. Some of his feathers accidentally brushed her skin, sending goosebumps through her entire body.
He just stared at her for a moment, breathing heavily, then said, “I’m your Guardian. That’s a question I should ask you, not the other way around.”
“I thought we were friends.” She gave him a look like he was being ridiculous—because he was.
But that seemed to pain him. Or at least make the tension in his muscular shoulders melt. “That’s precisely the problem. Markos would like nothing more than for us to be much more than friends.”
“He would?” She frowned, partly because Tajael said it was dangerous for them to be, well, physically close. That was the whole reason they were so careful not to touch… at least not much. Whenever she could manage to keep her hands off him. “I don’t understand.”
“That’s because it doesn’t make any sense.” But he was still frustrated. He slumped over to the slightly elevated shelf which she now noticed had a thin mat on top. That must be his “bed”—although it seemed angelings hardly ever slept. He propped himself up in the corner.
She slowly worked her way over and carefully sat down.
He shoved both hands in his hair but folded up his legs, so she had room.
“Tell me, Tajael,” she said softly. “I want to understand.”
His smile was bittersweet. “I know. You always do.” Then he sighed and said, “Markos wants me to make
an angeling with you so he can grow his army against the shadow realm.”
“But I didn’t think…” She swallowed hard because she didn’t want to hear this if it were true. “When you kissed me in the alley, you said you wanted me… but that you couldn’t. Was that kiss… were you just trying because Markos told you to?” Her body felt like it had gone rigid all over, tensing as she waited for his answer.
“What? No.” He sat up from his slump in his corner and leaned forward, bracing his hands on his knees. “Charlotte, I’ve been fighting to hold myself back because I don’t want to fall into shadow. If I do, I can’t guard you anymore. And I… I don’t want to…” Emotions were warring across his face.
She held her breath.
He came up on his knees on the bed and took her face in both hands. He peered down at her and the hungry look on his face… it froze everything inside her, waiting for him to find the words or kiss her or… something.
His warm breath caressed her face. That’s how close he came, but he wouldn’t kiss her. “Keeping you safe is more important than anything,” he whispered. “And if someone is to keep you safe, I want it to be me. Because I cannot bear the idea of anyone else being this close to you, watching over you, caring for you…”
Her heart was breaking with that small gap of space he still maintained between them.
“If it were a simple thing—if I could have you and not Fall from being lost in the love I would be making with you—then I would have you right here, right now.”
“You would?” All the breath had left her body. Left the room. She could barely breathe.
His eyes fell half-closed. “I fear to sleep, for I fear to dream, for I know my dreams will be fevered pleasures, and I might not awake except into shadow. That is how much I desire you, Charlotte Netherman.”
“I want you, too,” she breathed. God, why wouldn’t he kiss her already? Surely, it couldn’t be that bad, just a kiss. Or even more. Why, for the love of all that’s science, would making love break an angeling and make him fall “into shadow,” whatever that meant? Why?
