“Time in Hell moves different than on your mortal coil.” He said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Everything is slower down here. An hour down here is about eight minutes up there.” He shrugged.
I looked between the two of them stunned. I did the math in my head…
“So for every hour of my time it was seven and a half hours down here?” I asked. Neil nodded and my heart constricted.
“So even though I got to see you every twelve hours or so, you had to wait…” again I did the math, “…almost four days to see me?” Alaric nodded, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. I felt really awful all of a sudden, to think I whined if I didn’t get to see him a night or two in a row when for him that had meant weeks without seeing me. I closed my eyes.
“Make the most of the time you have brother.” Neil told Alaric and ducked out the back of the tent.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.
“Would it have mattered?” he asked, rummaging through the basket.
“I suppose not.” I said softly.
“He is right. About the time we have being limited.” He was busy swabbing my cuts with some sort of salve, it stung a little, but not too bad.
“They’ll come looking for us?” I asked.
“Yes, but they have searched in here already. They will not think to look here despite the two guards posted outside.” I gave the entryway to the tent a sharp look.
“They cannot hear us.” He said, confirming my theory about the tents being some kind of sound proof. He was winding a bandage around my foot and leg.
“I couldn’t let you go.” I murmured and he paused.
“I do not want you here. This is no place for you.” He said and I flinched. He captured my gaze with his own and when he was sure he had my attention said,
“That does not mean I am not glad you are with me. I would have you always by my side.”
“What were they going to do with you?” I asked looking around the inside of the tent. There was a full length mirror in an ornate black frame in one area, a small alter of sorts at its base. On the little alter was a framed photograph of me at the Scotland dig site that had once resided on a shelf in my living room. I hadn’t even noticed it missing. There were several other trivial items from my apartment on it. The empty bottle of mead, it’s dried and shriveled Valentine’s rose looking a little forlorn, several of the bobby pins from my hair that he’d taken down after the disaster with Volund… The book of Frost’s poetry I’d gifted him also resided there. I gripped the scale at my throat. He’d done the same thing in his own way. He just didn’t wear his keep sakes.
He was watching me, the task of fixing me up done. I looked down on him from where he knelt in front of me.
“I don’t know,” he said softly. “I was to return to the front lines while I awaited judgment. I believe your being here has drastically changed things, however.” He looked at me and we spent long moments in silence just looking at each other.
“I love you,” was all I could think to say and was rewarded when he gently brought his lips to mine. The first time he’d kissed me since the moment in my kitchen. My fingers glided against his cheeks as our lips met. He flicked his tongue against my lower lip sweetly, and I opened for him. Our second true kiss was bittersweet, tinged with both love and sadness. He pulled back reluctantly and looked me over once more. He rose and unstrapped his pauldrons and greaves, shucking out of his scale. He pulled his shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor.
“What do you want to do Gracelyn?” he asked me gently.
“I want you.” I said, “If this is it, the last time we will have together I want the memory of being with you.”
He closed his eyes and bowed his head, fists clenching and unclenching the air. He stalked across the tent and stopped in front of me where I sat on the edge of his bed. He settled his hands on either side of my hips and brought us nose to nose. I stared into his burning red eyes from mere inches away.
“I cannot promise to be gentle.” He murmured against my lips.
“I know.” I said, butterflies in my stomach.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
“I don’t think you will.” I said.
“Gracelyn,” he said my name with such longing and heat that my eyes slipped shut and I groaned.
“Please Alaric.” I said, and opened my eyes, “Please.” I repeated and he was on me. Mouth crushing down over mine, brutal, his need crashing into me overwhelming me dragging me under so thoroughly I didn’t want to ever come up for air.
My hands tangled into his straight snow white locks pulling them back from his widow’s peak and away from our tangled lips. Our tongues danced so sweetly, playing for keeps, his conquering my mouth, mine exploring his as much as I could. There was this awful, wet tearing sound and the warm air of the tent slid against my exposed skin, slightly cooler that it had been before. He kicked off his boots, all the while his mouth never leaving mine.
I let my hands roam down over the swell of his shoulders, across the planes of his chest, along his ribs while he fumbled at the ties of his leathers. My hands slid over the hills and valleys of his abdominals and with a growl he snapped the thongs holding his pants up. I pushed them off his hips, his smooth skin warm beneath my hands and he pushed me back, one arm snaking around my lower back, the other bracing further up on the bed.
He lifted me with a snarl, breaking our kiss and slid me back completely on his massive bed. He went to one knee on the edge and clambered up after me, placing the other firmly between my knees. He was achingly hard and uncut between my thighs and I reached between us and curled my hand firmly around him, stroking him, his foreskin pulling back to reveal a pearly drop of precum at his tip. He planted both hands on the bed and let me stroke him for several moments before stilling my hand with one of his own.
“Not yet.” He breathed, and pushed me back. He slipped a finger into my crevice and slicked my wetness up over my clit. I cried out when he circled it with a finger and the look upon his face radiated joy at the sound. He bent forward and captured my mouth again and I loved it. I loved him. I felt him reach between us and position himself at my opening and my hips rose off the bed in a silent plea. He groaned into my mouth and worked his way into me, swallowing my pleading whimpers. I arched into him, hips thrusting forward to meet his until he was fully seated inside of me.
He drove into me that much more and I cried out with the pleasure of it which encouraged him because he soon found a powerful rhythm that was just this side of becoming punishing. God did I love it too. I grabbed his ass and urged him on harder, crying out his name. I trailed my hands up his ribs, relishing the ripple of muscle underneath. He thrust into me hard and harder and I wrapped my legs around his hips as my orgasm began to build. Our mouths clashed together as our bodies moved in synchronicity, I felt the pleasure begin to rise and clenched down on him, and when I sailed over the edge of the cliff I was dimly aware of my nails scoring down his back as I screamed his name.
He thrust into me a final time and bowed his head as he shuddered his own release, placing a gentle kiss on my shoulder. He said something in a language I didn’t know but it sounded good, so I didn’t ask. I just wrapped my legs tighter around his hips, even though they were trembling, and my arms around his shoulders and pulled his warmth down on top of me. Hey lay atop me willingly, his arms taking the brunt of his weight to either side of my head. Joined at the sex as we were he was still head and shoulders taller than me, so I placed a kiss on his chest, which was all I could reach and right in front of my face. I smiled against his sweat dewed skin.
“I love you.” He rumbled between breaths.
“I love you too.” I whispered, and I suddenly realized that I would never be able to tell him enough. He shifted, slipping out of me and I shivered with delight, he moved off of me and to the side, and pulled me snug against him. I lay my head upon his should
er and the swell of his chest as he cradled me. He pulled the turned down blankets up over the both of us and I sighed in contentment. For now I was happy. I didn’t know how long it would last, but I would hold onto this for the rest of my days.
“I have longed for this, for you cannot know how long.” He murmured.
“Me too.” I whispered.
“I did not hurt you?” his voice was tinged with concern.
“Not in the slightest. You feel incredibly good.” I wriggled a bit and smiled.
“Never have I felt anything as soft, warm and pure as you Gracelyn, I am honored that you would let me love you,” and to that, I had nothing I could think of to say.
Chapter 33
Voices. I woke, still pressed to Alaric’s side, my leg over his, a little too warm beneath all the blankets. My mouth was dry and certain muscles unused to activity, sore but not unpleasantly so. My shoulders and back ached a little fiercely but I was sure that was from my fall. I tried to get my mind, still fuzzy from sleep, to focus on what was being said. I did not open my eyes. By the way Alaric’s arms tightened around me I was sure he knew I was conscious but I wanted to hear.
“Wake her. You are to be taken before the Archen.” the voice was soft and had that musical quality that most if not all of the angels I’d met did.
“She is exhausted, a little longer, Ansiel please?” Alaric said and I was unused to the note of pleading in his voice.
“Were that I could give you more time Alaric, not only for her sake but for yours, but I cannot. You have been summoned.” The angel sounded sincere, his voice tinged with pity. I opened my eyes, and looked across Alaric’s broad chest.
“Ah, she is awake.” The angel Ansiel smiled at me and I felt awash in love and peace. I smiled back sadly. He was graceful, in a long, light gray robe that reminded me of the mist that sometimes rose from the Hudson in the early morning light. His wings were the first truly white wings I’d seen so far, as pure as freshly fallen snow. His hair was a deep blonde and his hazel eyes jewel like, set in a very handsome face with very fine bone structure.
Alaric looked down at me and I looked up at him. This was pretty much it for us. We both knew it, we both felt it, and it was as if my heart were slowly turning to ash in my breast. Sifting away grain by grain along with each bit of sand in the hourglass. I sat up and clutched the sheet to my chest.
“Oh my.” Ansiel had the grace to look embarrassed but I wasn’t. There was no shame in what Alaric and I had done. None at all. The angel’s gaze roamed the room and of course landed upon my torn nightgown on the floor. Ansiel stooped and picked it up. Tsking under his breath.
“Really Alaric.” He said but the admonishment was tinged with a bit of humor and my beloved’s expense. A flash of light and the torn scraps of material were whole and what’s more, pure and clean in the angel’s hands as he held it out. Alaric’s long reach took it from his hands.
“A bit of privacy please?” Alaric asked and Ansiel left the tent. I pulled the gown over my head slowly. Alaric rose and pulled fresh clothing from the trunk at the foot of the bed and dressed as well. Neither of us said anything. What do you say when you know it’s going to be good bye but everything in your soul is screaming that you don’t want it to be?
He held out his hand to me and I took it. With one last meaningful look between us, a reassuring but hollow squeeze of the hand we bravely exited the tent and met Ansiel and a small phalanx of guards outside the tent.
“Ah, very well then.” Ansiel said and turned to lead us, the guards ringing our little group. Alaric swept me up into his arms and stood tall. Looking forward. I let him carry me over the chipped and broken shale. Pressing a kiss along the side of his neck, the only place I could reach, in thanks. My arms wound around his neck, he marched with our guards as if I were nothing at all of a burden.
The route we took was lined with warriors to either side. Men and women, young and old, all curious. I was amazed though at how many took off helmets or caps as we passed or pressed a hand over their heart in salute. Not to Ansiel or our guards but to Alaric and some I even had the impression were saluting me.
“What are they doing?” I asked.
“I have been their commander for millennia,” he began in reply, “But I believe they are saluting you, for your bravery in coming here.” I blushed a deep crimson.
“It wasn’t bravery,” I said, “It was that or lose you forever and I wasn’t going to do that. Not if I could help it. It was love if anything that brought me here.”
“We shall have to agree to disagree.” Alaric said with a curve of his lips. He could smile all he want, I was still certain there hadn’t been any bravery at all in doing what I’d done. I was scared shitless the whole time.
“Child,” Ansiel said and I knew he was addressing me.
“Yes?”
“The definition of courage is to be terrified of doing something yet doing it anyway is it not?” he asked. Had he read my mind?
“I suppose.” I answered.
“Then by definition, you coming here despite your reasons and despite your fear was a brave thing to do.” he didn’t turn, so I couldn’t see, but I could hear the smile in his voice. I couldn’t help but smile myself.
“Well played, sir. Well played.” I said and the grin from Alaric was something beautiful to behold. We walked on, further and further past row after row of tents, until the din of fighting had ebbed to a distant roar.
“Where exactly are we going?” I asked, apprehensive.
“To see the Archangels.” Alaric said. I blinked.
“The Archangels.” I repeated, “As in Michael, Gabriel and the gang?” Disbelief shaded my tone.
“Yes, though I would be a bit more respectful, or at the very least, more tactful than that when in their presence.” Ansiel’s tone was a wee bit frosty. I shot a panicked look at Alaric.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect,” I said hastily, adding, “I’m only human you know.” Seemed like he needed reminding. Ansiel made a noncommittal and dismissive sound and my temper rose to the surface. I kept my cool but still, I had something I felt needed to be said.
“A year ago I thought I just had a random case of the blues, six months ago I went to a doctor for meds thinking I was depressed and it was a chemical imbalance in my brain, two months ago I thought I was going stark raving mad, if at any of those points you popped up and asked me if I would fall in love with a man who’d been dead for over a thousand years or that I’d be meeting the Archangels in the first level of Hell, how do you think I would have responded?” I had an inexplicable need to defend myself here and was determined to do it.
Alaric, whose eyes had remained steadfastly fixed to a point out in front of us was looking at me with this expression that was a mixture of pride and awe. Ansiel stopped, turned and regarded me for a moment. Not unkindly, just like he’d never seen me before. He looked up at Alaric who was pretty much a giant standing at least a head, if not a head and shoulders over all of us.
“Remarkable,” he said, “I can see your attraction.” He smiled serenely and turned back to the path only he and the guards seemed to know we were taking. We began to approach one of the larger tents that I had seen from the air. It resembled a big top, like when Cirque du Soliel set up their tent in Central Park. It was as if three round circus tents were sewn into one, each a different height, and varying widths, brought together as a whole. They weren’t striped like circus tents though, the canvas they were made from was a simple sun bleached white.
Ansiel strode through the gaping maw of the tent and Alaric didn’t so much as fall a single step behind, despite my added weight. He wasn’t even breathing hard, I realized, nor were his arms trembling. It really was like he could carry me all day without ever getting tired. Ansiel stopped and turned before we went through a set of curtains into whatever chamber lay beyond.
“You may put her down.” Ansiel said and Alaric stiffened. My arms tightened around his n
eck. Ansiel sighed.
“The floor is quite suited for her bare feet. No harm will come to her.” He made a motion with his hand and Alaric and I exchanged looks. I honestly just didn’t think Ansiel got it. We didn’t want to let each other go. I suddenly felt a little sad for the angel.
“It’s okay.” I whispered, even though it wasn’t. Even though I was pretty sure that when this was through I would never, ever be ‘okay’ again. A muscle twitched in Alaric’s jaw and he rested his forehead against mine for a long minute before sliding me gently along his body until my feet touched the floor which was smooth and polished and surprisingly warm. I captured his hand with my smaller one and held fast. Ansiel nodded as if satisfied and two of the guards pulled back the curtains.
Chapter 34
Alaric and I both put up our free hands to shade our eyes from the blinding white light. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, and when they did I was a little dismayed to see we were stepping into what appeared to be a court room type atmosphere. There was a high bench on a raised dais, and seated behind it was three angels with more empty seats to either side of them. I guess I was a little relieved we didn’t warrant the full host of archangels but the three seated were intimidating as Hell.
A chuckle swept the room and two of the three arch’s lips twitched as they tried to suppress a smile. The third, most powerfully built seated between the two that had tried not to smile remained stoic. As still as the surface of a pond on a windless summer day.
The rest of the courtroom was built much like a Roman senate or the coliseum. Stone bleachers curving to either side of the dais, rising up and up and up to the very ceiling of the canvas. We moved up the aisle until we were basically at the bottom of the bowl of spectating angels. When we stopped I could see Karael, the flirty bronze winged angel, Rizoel, the dove gray angel and Neil standing to the side. Neil looked grim, almost afraid, and I quailed, tucking myself closer to Alaric’s side.
Heaven, Hell & the Love In Between Page 13
