by Oates, Carol
“Really?” Draven’s grin widened as if it actually pleased him.
She nodded once, wishing he would move this along. Not that she was anxious to face the ambush that would, no doubt, be awaiting her at home. Draven’s comments and the way he touched her, or more pointedly the way his touching her made her feel, disturbed her. Candra glanced at her watch, hoping he would get the message.
“I’m going to be honest here, Candra. I feel I owe you an apology. You see, I didn’t actually believe you were who Ananchel claimed you to be.”
She nodded again in affirmation. It was understandable. She couldn’t hold it against him. After all, she was having a bit of trouble believing it herself.
“I had to see you with my own eyes before I could believe you are truly Payne’s child—”
“The party,” Candra broke in flatly.
“I’m sorry for all the subterfuge.”
She shifted in her seat, remembering the party and how he had disappeared moments before Sebastian and Ananchel showed up.
“So you know who I am now; you’ve seen me with your own eyes. What next? Aside from wanting me with you and wanting me to give myself to you.” She laughed, hoping he was joking to break the ice, or that it was a misunderstanding, but damn it if it didn’t make her wonder what it would be like to touch him that way.
He laughed too, making fine lines crinkle at the corners of his dark eyes. After a moment, his smile faded, and he turned briefly to the fire. “We are tired; we are all so tired. We knew when we came here, the price we would pay…we knew there would be no way to return to heaven. We understood and accepted that much, and it was a sacrifice willingly made. Over the years, we have lost so many. The war practically wiped us out and then there was the covenant…there was never to be more of us. For humans, the future, their immortality, lies in their children. We don’t have that. We go on and on, and then we are gone. Those who are left have lost hope.”
“But you started the war,” Candra cut him off harshly.
His fingertips bit into the armrest when his body tensed as if in reflex to her words. “They were children, whatever else they were. They didn’t ask to be created.” He grimaced at the evidently painful memory. “If they could see you, how magnificent you are, they would all know we’ve been given a second chance.” Very suddenly his face was animated and lit with excitement from within.
Now that she was getting the answers she craved, her thoughts were more chaotic than ever. “And for that you believe you need to be with me?” Candra knew her face was scrunching up awkwardly and her cheeks were flaming. It wasn’t every day an angel wanted to play house.
“Ha,” he burst out with a wide grin. “No! Of course not.” His hand came up to ruffle his hair as he shook his head. “You are a beautiful and unique creature, Candra. I doubt you have any idea of your potential. You belong with me and only me.”
“You say it as if it’s a foregone conclusion.”
“I believe it is.”
“My father and Brie wanted to protect me. They hid me.” She rolled her shoulders back, determined to face Draven and show him that he couldn’t intimidate her—no one could. Just like everyone else, Candra had lost too, and she wasn’t about to lose any more. “My father must have had a reason for keeping me hidden from you. He must have thought you were a danger to me.”
Draven’s eyebrows drew down in a scowl, and his eyes closed. He started to shake his head and then pinched his nose rather brutally, hard enough to make her wince. Her stomach somersaulted. She guessed she had upset him…said something to offend him, and now he was mad. But she couldn’t take it back; she couldn’t unsay what she’d said. The only thing she could do was attempt to sift through everything she was learning and reach the truth. She moved in her seat again, trying to get comfortable and wishing it was made of anything but sticky leather.
Surprisingly, when he lowered his hand, he was bemused rather than scowling. “Payne didn’t do what he did because of us!”
Candra opened her mouth to say something, but her fumbling brain was too slow in groping for the words. Draven took a deep breath and went on.
“He wasn’t hiding you from us. Haven’t you worked it out yet? Why would Payne run from his own family? Why would Ambriel flee from her brother? To protect you from them.”
Still she couldn’t speak. She knew what he was getting at, at least the direction he was heading, and it was a train wreck that she couldn’t turn away from. There was nothing she could do to stop it or to make it easier. She was standing alone in its path, facing an onslaught she should have seen coming…and then it slammed into her.
“Had your precious Sebastian known about you, he would have obliterated you while you were still a babe in arms, just like he did the others.”
It couldn’t be, Candra thought. In her mind, she raced through the story the way Lofi had told it to her. The real truth was that some things stayed with you forever, seared into the memory of the moment you heard it, whether you wanted it to be or not.
Lofi never once mentioned they were part of the second wave of Watchers. Candra had presumed. She had presumed wrong. Her blood ran fast and cold in her veins, and she wanted to run. She wanted to run from this place and run from the truth, but where did she have to run to? And when they found her, would she run again? When would it ever be far enough to escape the awful truth she now carried with her?
When Candra looked back to Draven’s benevolent expression, she knew he could tell what she was thinking. Their betrayal was clearly evident in her eyes that stung with tears she refused to shed. No wonder Sebastian was the one keeping her from the whole story. Because the truth was, in another given place and time, he would have slaughtered her in the very bed he spent his nights so jealously guarding.
Brie…the full horror of her fear when she encountered Sebastian that first day in the hospital hit home finally for Candra. It was because Brie was sure they were there to finish her…but why didn’t they?
Draven was patiently waiting for the information to seep through—and why wouldn’t he? He had all eternity to wait. Candra understood there was so much more she needed to learn. How could they die exactly? Draven had said they went on and on and then they were gone, what did that mean? She needed to anchor her thinking; she was getting off course again. Meanwhile, she was aware of Draven gazing at her with those deep penetrating eyes. He’s the good guy, she told herself, isn’t he?
“What do you know about my father? Why was he so special? Why am I?”
Draven smiled and raised an eyebrow before he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands. The action brought him only a fraction nearer but made the goose bumps rise on Candra’s skin. If she reached out, she would have been able to graze the very tip of her finger across his knuckles. She wanted to touch him. Something inside her called out to him as the moon called to the tide, dragging it forward to crash and break apart against an unyielding shore. She hated the niggling feeling in the back of her head that was trying to convince her that Draven was right. She couldn’t deny the connection between them.
“I don’t know why you are different.” His head tilted, observing her. She presumed he knew what she was avoiding and was indulging her. “I just know you are. I’ve never felt this…” He waved his hand between them before threading his fingers together once more. “I am utterly fascinated by you.”
Candra pursed her lips together, not wanting to be tricked into revealing the magnetic pull she felt toward him. She suspected, first and foremost, that it meant neither of them had seen much action lately.
“No one has told you about your father?” he asked curiously.
“I haven’t asked them,” she lied convincingly. “And I trust you.”
“You do?” He chuckled with a knowing smile.
Candra nodded. “I think I’d like that drink now.”
His smile didn’t waver in the slightest, but he bit down on the edge of his bottom lip, dra
gging the plump flesh through his teeth. It made her stomach quiver, and it would have been a whole lot easier if Draven didn’t have that effect on her physically. When he went to stand, he pressed his hands into the armrest, making the muscles in his upper arms tense under his sleeves and his fitted shirt strain over his chest. Her mouth watered.
“Anything in particular?”
“Anything strong,” she answered quickly.
“Liquor?” He glanced back over his shoulder from the cabinet where he was pouring a drink.
“I guess I’m not the little angel everyone expected me to be,” Candra quipped, earning a smirk from him.
Confidence rolled off Draven; he seemed so sure Candra would do whatever he asked of her, and it was making her doubt that she wouldn’t. He shook his head a little as he poured the amber liquid into a second crystal tumbler.
“Don’t be so sure, Candra.” After putting the lid back on the decanter, he brought a glass to her.
Candra took it with a grateful nod and immediately enjoyed the mild sting of the raw liquor from the first sip.
“You are still innocent; it’s written all over your flushed cheeks,” he said, lightly trailing the back of his index finger over her skin.
Candra almost choked and snapped her hand to her mouth so as not to splutter all over her chin…and Draven. “Excuse me?” she gagged.
“You are untouched.” He spoke the words with sincerity, as if it was something he knew for sure, which of course he couldn’t—could he?
“Not exactly.” Candra grimaced with embarrassment. Was this actually happening to her? She took a long gulp, which didn’t help to alleviate the gagging.
Candra hadn’t had full sex with Philip, but she was pretty sure she was past virgin status…technically speaking anyway, which led her to wonder precisely how close people had been watching her. Did she walk differently than non-virgins? Did she still have a virgin glow?
“My father?” she pressed, trying to steer him away from their current conversation, although steering Draven was something akin to driving a bus through a minefield.
He returned to his seat and sat down, crossing one ankle over his knee and rolling the glass between the palms of his hands. The crystal caught the light from the fire, reflecting a myriad of sparkling colors. It reminded Candra of the crystalline stone she had seen in Sebastian’s hand the night of the party, which in turn made her think of Sebastian, which in turn made her chest tighten. He didn’t lie, at least that was what she was told herself. It was simply an omission of the truth, and Lofi…Candra decided maybe it was her own mind that didn’t register the most vital piece of the information Lofi had given her. If people are defined by their actions, what should Candra think about the ones waiting for her at home?
“I’m sure you already know that we don’t recall much from before we came here. When we took corporeal form, we became human in a lot of ways, and one of the ways was that we were not meant to carry the memories of that other before life. I knew your father a little in later years…We didn’t mix much in the beginning as I’m sure you will understand.” He looked up at her from under his black eyelashes briefly and then returned his gaze to the glass. “He was a good man, and he made a choice most of us wouldn’t have. He loved his family, but he loved you more, apparently. He wasn’t easily influenced either. I can see that in you.” He smiled and sipped from his glass.
“What do you mean by ‘easily influenced’?”
“Payne held no regret in his heart: he let go of his grief and the war. He opened his heart up and allowed love in. The difference with your Sebastian is, he has never let go. He holds onto the past as a child would cling to a beloved toy. It gives him comfort to believe the war continues. That way, he never has to move on from it, he never has to try to make a real life for himself.”
The drink was spreading a warming comfort through Candra’s body, and she felt her limbs finally begin to relax. So she took some more, knowing it probably wasn’t her greatest idea ever. “I really wish you wouldn’t call him my anything.”
“Be careful what you wish for, my Candra. Wishes are a dangerous affair if spoken without due regard. Once they are out in the world, they can never be taken back.”
“Anyway,” she went on, drawing out the word and ignoring his warning. “I think you are wrong. You have to be. It wouldn’t make sense, would it? If he isn’t past all that happened, why would he be protecting me?”
“Accepting what he has done is not the same as coming to terms with it, or moving on.”
She pouted childishly at his mocking tone, convinced he was teasing her.
“Sebastian is a powerful influence. His inability to believe there is hope for the future holds everyone back. Every time we move forward, even to the tiniest degree, he riles all the others up. He can’t be trusted,” he swore earnestly and paused to take a drink. Of course, Candra believed it was only polite to follow suit. “He’s so busy torturing himself for leading the army—”
“Wait, what?” She held her hand up and lurched forward in her seat almost sliding off the edge. All of a sudden Candra’s mouth felt dry and her throat felt like someone had scrubbed it with steel wool. She swigged at the amber liquid. “He led them?”
“Sebastian was the messenger, the one who held the plans, the one who rained fire down on all of us.”
Candra slumped back into her seat and stared into the flickering flames. The oranges, yellows, reds, and blacks mingled fluidly. If she squinted her eyes, she imagined she could see images there among the blazing streaks of color—maybe her life, the life that had all but vanished now, passing before her eyes. She had been wrong on so many levels. She had misjudged and been led astray—intentionally or unintentionally, it didn’t matter. Even as she thought about the rest of them, Brie, Gabe, and Lofi, inexplicably it was Sebastian she was the angriest with. She was angry at him for making her be angry at him. She’d thought it was Gabe they followed, but it made sense now how Gabe had backed down and hadn’t told her more when challenged by Sebastian that first day she’d found out about the angels. It made sense now that Brie listened to him.
“Then I really don’t get it,” Candra groaned. “What has changed? Is it because of Brie?”
Draven laughed loudly, slapping his thigh with the flat of his hand, making her jump.
“What?” she ground out bitterly.
“If it was Brie holding them at bay, why would there be any need for concealment?”
Candra drained the last of her glass and waved it in front of her, brazenly gesturing for more. Draven rose without a blink and took the glass.
“Are you being deliberately evasive?”
“No. Are you being deliberately obtuse?” he countered.
It was like dragging information from a stone. At least with a stone she would get something, even if it was only dust.
“I simply don’t want to further his cause,” he added, returning with the refilled glasses.
“His cause?” Candra mocked, taking the glass and keeping her eyes on the mellow liquid that swirled momentarily as the glass moved. The first sip went down surprisingly easy this time.
Draven was still standing over her with his hand resting on the chair at the back of her head. She sat up straighter to look at him without straining her neck. As if she had offered an invitation in that simple act, he bent down, bringing his handsome face nearer to hers. Candra found herself twisting her body to him and blinked several times when his warm breath fanned over her face, laced with the spicy aroma of the amber liquid.
He grinned meaningfully and came nearer to her, making her stomach flutter. She got the marked impression of someone sharing a secret, except there was no one else in the room to hear. Candra couldn’t look away from him or from his perfect pink lips and the way his tongue moved with each word he spoke.
“Sebastian, the leader of the army who besieged and annihilated the Nephilim—” he told her in a muted whisper and came closer still, making the
fluttering intensify and spreading a tingling sensation through her entire body. He swept her hair over her shoulder, allowing his mouth to graze across the shell of her ear, “—is in love with one.”
Chapter Nine
Candra flinched away from him, aghast and laughing. Only it was more of a cackle that was a few pitches higher than her usual laugh. “That’s ridiculous.”
Draven stood straight and scratched his stomach absentmindedly under his shirt at exactly her eye level. She couldn’t help noticing the tiny sliver of tanned skin or the sprinkling of hair that formed a line disappearing into his jeans.
“Is it?” His tone had softened, and he took a long swig of his drink before continuing. “You can’t have failed to notice the way he follows you around like a puppy, making those pathetic moon faces?”
“He hates me!” Candra exclaimed, staring dumbly at him and then added as an afterthought. “How do you know how he looks at me? Have you been watching me too?”
Draven’s shrug was noncommittal. “Pulling pigtails in the playground. There is a very thin line between love and hate, and it is sometimes easy to confuse the two.”
Candra was convinced she would know if Sebastian had feelings for her—Draven had to be wrong. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that she was right about this and Draven was utterly delusional. Whatever Sebastian’s reasons were for letting her live, that wasn’t one of them. She sighed heavily and looked down to her glass and the liquid shimmering in the glow of the fire. It reminded her of his eyes.
Candra felt Draven’s fingers brush across her cheek and turned to him.
“You don’t have to concern yourself with that volatile, surly child. You have me to protect you now.”
Protect her from what? From Sebastian, from Brie…they had done nothing except what they thought was best for her. They weren’t always right, and she didn’t agree with most of their decisions, but she was sure she didn’t need protection from them.
