by Lisa Hughey
“We may be able to gather intelligence about the origination of the fire as well.”
That would only leave the mystery of who killed the two Angels. Angelina rubbed her mark again. As if he knew what she was thinking, Rafe said fiercely, “Stas served the Earth and people faithfully for years. Caring for the human population. He did not deserved his death.”
“Maybe whoever hurt them is still here,” Angelina said.
“We will find them and make them pay.” The expression on Rafe’s face made Angelina realize that he was more than just a healer. He was a warrior. And crossing him was a very, very bad idea.
TWENTY-SEVEN
She didn’t want to ask where Uri procured the transportation.
The old truck rumbled into the parking lot. The bass from the music inside the bar rattled the windows. Crammed between the two Archangels, she watched the windshield shimmy, and could only pray that the glass was solid.
As if she didn’t have bigger problems.
The heat from both of their bodies surrounded her. She would have thought that the testosterone combo would be distracting, except that her hormones had zeroed in on Rafe and no one else would sway them. With every shift in his shoulder or hip, pleasure zipped through her.
“What is this place?”
“Local dive,” Uri answered. “Farmers hang out here.”
“Won’t we stick out?”
As he shifted the gear stick into park, the muscles in his forearm rippled. She should be drooling. The guy was seriously gorgeous and built. Where Rafe had that lean, lanky look, Uri was ripped.
Nothin’.
As if all her hormones were sucked out and Uri was completely asexual. She guessed the good news was her pheromones only intended to completely screw up one Archangel’s life.
Hooray for her.
There was a swift brush of air and suddenly their clothes were far more appropriate for a rural bar. Both the guys wore overalls and faded shirts with the sleeves ripped off to reveal bare arms.
She still had on her blue jeans, but her top was sleeveless, faded denim buttoned up the front, the shirt a little tight, so her breasts plumped together and created significant cleavage. A red bandana covered her streaked hair. Clunky old work boots protected her feet.
“How do you do that?”
“Has to do with laws of matter.”
“What law?”
“In closed systems, matter is not created or destroyed. It just changes forms.”
“I thought that was like liquid to steam or solid to liquid.”
“In your limited brains yes,” Uri said offhandedly. “We just manipulate the molecules to the images in our brains.”
“Huh. Cool.” She hunched her shoulders stiffly. “Could you manipulate just a little looser? I’m bigger than you thought.”
“Nope. I know exactly how big you are.” Uri grinned, his teeth white as dusk deepened. “That was on purpose.”
Rafe shifted closer to Angelina and shot Uri a dirty look.
“Relax, Romeo.” Uri slung an arm around her shoulders and maneuvered her toward the entrance. “She’s our distraction, so I can listen to the gossip and you can scan for the virus.”
“If she’s ours, why is your arm around her?”
“Because if you have your arm around her no one else will come near her,” Uri chided. “They’d be able to sense your possessiveness from across the room.”
Rafe scowled.
“You’d better cut it out.” Uri’s warning hung in the air between the two men.
They stood outside the halo of the single light. Uri held her so tightly against his side she couldn’t move even if she’d wanted to. His embrace felt strange, off. He wasn’t Rafe. Tension crawled over her skin and settled in the base of her neck.
She held immobile.
“Let’s go.” Rafe put his hand on Uri’s shoulder. “But, she’s with me.”
“Rafe....” Uri shrugged off Rafe’s hand.
“I don’t care,” Rafe said through clenched teeth.
“Okay, okay. But tone down the ‘if you touch my woman I’ll have to kill you’ vibe.” Uri released her shoulder and suddenly she felt much better.
Rafe picked up her hand and threaded his fingers with hers. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Angelina melted at Rafe’s touch. The tension in her neck dissolved into a puddle. Everything felt right.
Uri shook his head and headed for the door. Jon Bon Jovi belted out, ‘We’ve Got It Goin’ On’, the music boomed through the open windows along with the clink of glassware and the roar of conversation. Cigarette smoke haloed the roof of the single story building. The rancid odor of fry grease and spilled beer belched out in a gust as Uri opened the door.
“Uri,” the entire bar called out as he entered.
“Kopsnij piątkę.” Uri strode in arms spread wide as if he was welcoming the entire population into his own home.
Angelina blinked.
Rafe shrugged. “Uri has that effect on people.”
Huh. “Not on me.”
“Yeah, I noticed.” He nuzzled his face into the fall of her hair, but she felt his smile. His body was suddenly warmer and, as if a switch had been thrown, her body responded to his heat.
“Put on some more American music for our good friend,” the bartender yelled across the noisy bar.
“Everyone, this is my cousin Rafe and his friend, Angelina.” Uri pointed them out, and the patrons called out greetings to them in a mix of Polish and English.
Someone shoved a table toward them and four chairs appeared. At the bar, Uri squeezed in beside a barrel-chested man with a green John Deere cap perched over a grizzled face and a buxom blond in tight, ripped Levi’s and a t-shirt two sizes too small. The smile she gave Uri indicated she’d be willing to let him plow her fields.
Several people, men and women, waved hello but left her and Rafe to their table.
A brawny arm slammed down three drafts in ornate glass mugs. “Welcome.” A bear of a man straddled a chair that looked ready to break under his generous bulk. He scooted up to the table. He was probably in his mid-twenties, with shoulder length blond hair, freckles, bulging muscles of a well-worked body, and an attitude that said he probably flirted with anyone who didn’t have a penis.
That could be very good for the ego.
“Hi.” Angelina smiled at him. His gruff demeanor and the mischievous grin reminded her of Brandt.
“Ah, good I will practice my English on you.”
Rafe shifted in his seat. Surreptitiously she laid a hand on his upper thigh to restrain him.
“Practice away.” She smiled a little wider. “What’s your name?”
“Kasimierz.” He executed a mock bow. “But call me Kaz.”
She grabbed a mug before she could offer his hand for a shake, and lifted the glass as if to toast him. “Nice to meet you.”
“It is pleasure to meet you also.” He smiled at her, his sharp gaze rested on her wrist, then flit away. But his demeanor struck her as off. His smile seemed strained as if it were a chore to keep his lips curved.
Out of the corner of her eye, she kept some attention on Uri.
The rumblings in the bar had started soon after they entered. Everyone was talking about the illness plaguing several families. The jovial response to Uri’s entrance had settled back down into somber conversations between the locals.
Angelina hoped Rafe was listening. She splintered her attention between Uri at the bar, Rafe beside her, and this guy Kaz. But Kaz was her immediate focus. That made it difficult to listen to the other conversations.
“So what kind of farming do you do, Kaz?”
“Soybeans, mostly.” Kaz gulped down a giant swallow of beer. “The crop of the future. I raise chickens, too.”
“Oh, we drove by a farm with a giant burnt patch, I hope that wasn’t yours,” she flirted lightly.
Rafe shifted next to her, and then lifted his mug to his mouth and swallowed long and h
ard, the strong column of his throat momentarily stealing her attention. Rafe set down his mug on the edge of the table and smiled tightly at her.
“No, no.” Kaz drew her attention back to him. “That was sad, very sad.”
“What happened?”
There was a slight hesitation as he looked away and coughed.
“The owner, he went, how do you say, cuckoo?” Kaz twirled a finger around by his ear. “And pfft, he burned the whole thing.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Yes.” His gazed sidled away and then he focused his solemn brown eyes back on her. “But let us not talk of sad things. What brings you to our little village?”
“Uri offered to show us the local sights while we’re visiting the country.”
“And what do you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” she told him honestly. “I am very happy that we were able to see this area.”
“Will you be here long?”
“No,” she made a little pouty moue, “unfortunately we are leaving.”
Although nothing moved on his face, she sensed a sudden tiredness within him. As if he’d used up all his energy to be charming. “Ah, this is too bad. I would show you around our little town.” His smile was just on the edge of exhausted.
“Maybe next time.”
He put one scraped and nicked hand to his chest. There were red, recent cuts. “Ah, I hold hope in my heart.”
Rafe scowled at Kaz.
“Your Rafe, he is not happy with me.”
“Don’t be silly, he and I have no future together,” she said the words to remind herself as much as Rafe. And with that proclamation, her mood turned glum. She dropped the mug on the scarred wooden table.
“Well, you will forgive me, I must depart.” Kaz shoved back his chair, and exhaustion fairly oozed from him. He wasn’t just tired. He was sick. “Cześé. Good bye.”
Rafe wasn’t paying attention to either of them. Suddenly Angelina didn’t want to let Kaz leave without a touch to find out what was wrong with him. The compulsion was too strong to ignore. And Rafe was right by her side. She nudged Rafe under the table with her foot and hoped he got the message. She wished they had thought ahead and come up with a signal.
“It was a pleasure.” Before he could stand, Angelina grabbed his hand and began to shake it.
She free-fell into the healing and leaned against Rafe. Vaguely she felt his heat at her back. Thick coagulated blood slugged through her. Cholesterol choked her veins even further. And something else, a virus, mutated and changed his chemistry as she sat there. Poison chugged through Kaz’s veins. Luckily, Rafe mitigated the absolute devastation of the illnesses clamoring for her healing touch.
Her power was working on three levels. She had to limit the flow of her energy so she didn’t take too much of his negative into her body so she blocked the urge to clean the cholesterol from his blood. Sickly blobs clogged his bloodstream, but she ignored them. She couldn’t heal everything.
She poured energy into his body to stop the virus from mutating further. By visualizing the reproducing cells moving backwards, she returned his chemistry to a healthy state. Then she imagined his blood thinning, flowing more freely through his veins.
Finally, Angelina concentrated on severing their connection. She’d stopped the mutation. It was too risky to pull that poison into her bloodstream, but the effort to avoid it was debilitating. She pushed back the energy as hard as she could, and finally broke free. Her hand dropped weakly to the table.
Rafe was behind her, his arms around her middle. His body absorbed the sickly energy and pumped fresh energy back into her. With each rotation, her body calmed and strengthened. “Honey, you know you shouldn’t drink beer. Knocks you right on your butt.”
With effort she raised her eyelids to smile weakly at Kaz. “Goes straight to my head.” She fluttered her hand rather than use the energy to speak. Kaz’s focus zeroed in on her Angel’s mark.
“I--I--” he stuttered to a halt and stretched out his arm to reveal a strange tattoo, like a stylized N on the inside of his elbow. “My thanks.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
“That went well.” Rafe wanted to punch someone. Preferably Kaz. Angelina could barely walk.
Uri shrugged as he opened the door to the truck. “I had a hunch about Kaz when I saw him.”
“You could have freaking shared it with us.”
“Yeah, but if you’d known, you’d have reacted differently when he approached you.” Uri hopped into the ancient truck and slammed his door shut. “Instead you just had the pissed off boyfriend thing working.”
“Even before I touched him, I knew he was off,” Angelina said weakly. Rafe had wedged her in the cab of the truck, her entire body pressed up against his.
“How?” Rafe had thought so too, but he wondered what Angelina had picked up.
“Everyone else just waved and said hello.” Her body trembled with the excess of energy. “He sat down to find out why we were there and how long we were staying.”
“If there is a pretty woman anywhere around, Kaz follows.”
“It didn’t have anything to do with me.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” Rafe ogled her amply displayed cleavage, then shifted closer.
Angelina shivered. Rafe circled his arm around her and tried to warm her up. She moved so that her head rested against his shoulder, her nose buried in his neck. He’d be content if she stayed just like that for the rest of eternity.
Whoa. Where had that thought come from?
“So what happened?” Uri demanded, breaking up Rafe’s bizarre little fantasy where he and Angelina stayed entwined forever.
“His blood was swimming with a virus. He also had the same cholesterol problem as my acupuncturist.”
“What?” Rafe knew he should move. They shouldn’t get comfortable in this position. They’d have to sleep soon. Unless he took a stay-awake aid so that he didn’t summon her in his dreams. Shit. That was a pretty damn big problem.
“Is it coincidence that Kaz and Peter had the same goopy cholesterol chugging through their blood?”
“Explain.” Uri gripped the steering wheel.
“The first time I healed someone it was my local TCM and acupuncturist. He had a boatload of cholesterol in his blood.”
“Just so we’re clear, chronic conditions like that are the most difficult, and she cleaned his by touching his wrist. She doesn’t even need contact with the heart nadis.”
“This is unusual?”
“It’s an anomaly.” Rafe hesitated.
“I don’t have much control. I was pretty sure I couldn’t stop the virus and clean Kaz’s blood. The last time I cleared up the cholesterol I passed out. Thanks to Rafe I was able to work on the virus and ignore the cholesterol.” Her hand trembled as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “He knew I was a healer.”
“You really think so?”
“Or he suspected.” Angelina said, “I saw him stare at the mark on my wrist before I healed him. I healed him!”
He could hear her excitement and visibly see the animation on her face. He had the insane urge to lean over and press his mouth to hers. When was the last time he’d seen such enthusiasm for healing?
“You did,” Rafe responded, doing none of the physical acts that flit through his mind.
“Did you see that tattoo he had?”
“What tattoo?” Uri asked.
“No, I was looking at you.” Rafe said, “What did it look like?”
“You know tattoos, they’re all different. This looked a little like an N written in cursive.”
Rafe and Uri exchanged a glance. The symbol. “Jed was right.” Rafe felt a moment of guilt. Jed had known and they’d brushed off his prediction because he could only see part of the puzzle. Just like Rafe and Uri struggled to make sense of the events in this town.
“You guys know what it means?”
“No. But we’re going to find out,” Uri said gr
imly.
Angelina said, “You think it’s significant.”
“We need to talk to Kaz.” Rafe said, “But we’ve got bigger problems right now.”
Angelina asked softly, “You heard the talk in the bar, too?”
“Yeah. Half the village is sick.”
“When you drew away the energy from my body did you see the virus in his blood?”
Concern swelled through him. He’d seen the virus, worried that she was attempting too much, and then did everything he could to make sure she was okay. No one needed to know that for one second, he’d panicked. “Yes.”
“So?” Uri asked urgently.
Taking a level breath and focusing on what had happened, instead of Angelina, he replayed the draw down of energy from her body. The virus was the same as the chicken.
“It’s the same.”
They had torched an entire farm to get rid of the virus. People had potentially been infected too. But the strain shouldn’t kill humans. The protein strain wasn’t right.
“What do we do now?” Angelina asked.
Rafe and Uri looked at each other, then glanced away.
“It’s risky,” Rafe finally said.
Angelina asked, “What?”
“World Health Organization,” Uri said slowly.
“What about them?” She frowned.
Uri spread his arms wide. “Meet the new super-secret branch.”
“We need to clear it through the council first. We also need to tell them about that tattoo.”
“Yeah. I would have liked to gather more evidence but we have a problem.”
“What?” Angelina asked.
Rafe said grimly, “We’re out of time.”
“We’re being summoned.” Uri held out his palm in a classic stop gesture. “And she needs to come too, although you will have to get rid of the protective boyfriend shit.”
“You’re sure.” Rafe didn’t want her anywhere near the Council.
“She’s the only one who understands this virus besides you.” Uri said urgently, “And she healed it.”
Rafe stared at Angelina. He needed to get away from her, not spend more time with her. On the other hand, that virus was centered where two Angels had been harmed. That couldn’t be a coincidence.
