Edge of Heaven

by Rhiannon Leith

  She was never alone.

  Sometimes he wondered if he should stop pretending to be just another spirit guide and reveal himself as her guardian. At first, when she had been just a teen—confused, terrified, lost—she had desperately needed a spirit guide. The rules had been put in place for a very good reason. The balance between Heaven and Hell was precarious at best. To tell her would influence her free will, her ability to choose light or dark. The last guardian to do so had lost his charge to Hell, removed from her side just when she needed him most.

  He longed to tell Lily the truth. But he couldn’t risk it.

  Still, he wondered how she would take such a revelation.

  Her light was so bright. It drew him to her effortlessly and the struggle to maintain his distance grew worse with every passing day. She was worth it, though. Micah knew that with all his heart. He had to be there whenever she needed him.

  And she needed him. No doubt about that. His bright one, brightest of the bright even with the flicker that had entered her light recently, Lily attracted the supernatural like a lodestone, both the good and the ill. More darkness these days as well, he thought mournfully as he walked behind her through the grime of the city. He shielded her from the worst of it. That was his duty. But still, she was weakening. Her task of ushering the souls of the departed onwards was taking its toll as more of them seemed to be the twisted and damned.

  He reached out and brushed his fingertips against the tight pleat of her copper-coloured hair. Electricity sparked between them and her step faltered. When she glanced back Micah was relieved to see a ghost of a smile grace her lips.

  “You’re here.” Her voice was so low that no mortal could hear it. To hear her voice pitched so, just for him, made his body throb with a need forbidden to him.

  “Always, bright one,” he assured her. Her smile spread a little, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Her smiles never did anymore.

  He was losing her. Even as he tried to hold her to him, to keep her in the light, in the world, she was slipping away, her presence a little more insubstantial every day. She lived with ghosts, she lived like a ghost. No wonder she seemed more distant all the time.

  She bought groceries—barely enough to keep a grown woman alive—and spent an hour in a bookshop. As they crossed the park she watched the children playing, listening to their squeals of joy, and Micah felt the bonds of love in the place, the strands that tied parent to child, husband to wife, lover to lover. They glowed like dewy spider webs in sunlight, linking all those lives together.

  Lily had no such ties. She was alone.

  Spirits normally kept their distance in the daylight, for which he was grateful. For now she was safe, so he allowed himself to relax and enjoy the pleasures of being abroad in the world. The touch of the sun on his face, the feeling of the breeze and the way it brushed his skin. Standing there with Lily, Micah could imagine nothing more perfect, nothing more like Heaven.

  He felt the change at the same moment she did.

  “Time to go,” she whispered.

  Micah’s head jerked up. A group of shadows hung amid the trees on the far side of the grassy expanse where the children played. They weren’t doing anything, not yet, but they were as aware of Lily as she was of them. And Micah knew he was the only thing keeping them back right now.

  “Very well,” he conceded. “Go calmly. Do not run. Don’t let them smell fear from you.”

  “I know the drill.” She gritted her teeth as she obeyed.

  Micah shook off her annoyance. Of course she knew what to do. They had been doing it for years. He waited until she had walked behind him and then spread his invisible arms wide. Sunlight poured into him, invigorating and dazzling. He smiled and the brightness grew. Then he turned it on the shadows.

  They shied back, retreating hurriedly.

  “Look, Mummy,” one of the children shouted. “Look there.”

  Micah glanced at the child, a boy, no more than five years of age. He was pointing towards them, his eyes dazzled. His mother knelt at his side.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Micah smiled and turned away to follow Lily. She trudged ahead of him, head bowed so strands of her red-gold hair fell in a curtain on each side of her face. She shoved her balled fists into her jeans pockets and her shoulders formed a hard line of tension. He reached for her again, but just as he did, the child’s reply caught his ears.

  “An angel. In the sunlight.”

  Micah turned back, startled. Only the most sensitive could ever hope to catch a glimpse of him or any of his kind. And even then, only in the most stressful of situations. Not unless he chose to reveal himself.

  He walked back towards the boy, who looked past him. No, if he had seen Micah for that instant, he didn’t see him now. Reaching out, past the mother’s amused face, Micah laid his hand on the boy’s head in blessing. There was no spark, no jolt such as he felt with Lily.

  “There’s no angel there, honey,” said the mother, smoothing her hand across her child’s hair, just as Micah had done.

  “Yes, there is. There was. She’s gone now. The lady with the light in her hair.”

  The lady. Micah spun around, but there was no sign of Lily. She’d walked on ahead of him. He could sense her at the gates of the park now, turning left, walking home. Taking the short cut.

  There were two men in the alley. Waiting.

  Fear burst upon Micah, fear for her as she walked right into danger without him. He drew his consciousness in, ready to evanesce to her side. Nothing happened. The pull of the world out here was too great, too strong. It anchored him, holding him away from her and refusing to let him go.

  Micah sprinted across the open grass, his legs pounding beneath him. He needed to be there, to shield her again. Weaving through the traffic as he crossed the road, he wished he truly had the powers that his kind were reputed to have, to be anywhere in the blink of an eye, to fly to her side. To protect her.

  He felt the spike of her terror.

  “Lily!”

  Micah flung himself around the corner. Her groceries spilled across the alley. The light caught the flash of a knife. Lily screamed.

  Too late. He was too late.

  Something black barrelled into her attackers from the shadows. A snarl ripped through the air as this new defender hurled a punch at the nearest, heedless of the weapon he held. Blood glistened as it flew through the air and, while one mugger went down in a heap, the other turned and fled.

  Micah rushed to Lily’s side, but the dark man was there first.

  “Are you all right? They aren’t going to harm you now.”

  She nodded, swallowing hard as if trying to find words.

  Micah slipped in beside her. “I’m here.”

  “Where were you?” she asked.

  Her rescuer answered, a chuckle in his voice. “I came down the other way. Didn’t see you there until you cried out.” He offered his hand and Lily took it gingerly.

  A wave of foreboding swept through Micah. He knew that voice, or something like it. His senses shivered and he gazed into a face almost as old as his. But not the same. Nothing like the same.

  Handsome, chiselled features, an expressive mouth with just the right mix of gentleness and a promise to seduce even the most flawless souls. His eyes, rather than being black and endless, were the deepest brown and had seen a thousand tragedies, had understood them all. His eyes were compassion.

  “I’m Sam,” the demon said. “Are you sure you’re okay? Here, let me help you.”

  Micah froze as Lily allowed Sammael to draw her away from the wall, as he called the police and stayed with her, comforting her. Micah watched, closed out and terrified, as Sammael, the Angel of Death, the Seducer of Souls, moved into Lily’s life without so much as a misstep.

  Chapter Two

  Lily didn’t quite know what to say, but Sam seemed comfortable enough talking for both of them. The police took her statement, most of which was filled in by Sam, and her at
tacker was taken away. There was no trace of the other one, the one who had run.

  “I wouldn’t worry,” said Sam, his warm voice as reassuring as the gentle hand with which he cupped her elbow. “He’s probably high-tailing it for the hills.” He grinned at her.

  To her surprise Lily found herself returning the smile. His good nature was infectious. “How can you be so blasé about it?”

  “We’re both okay. That’s all that matters. Can I at least buy you dinner? I don’t think you’ll be making much from these.”

  The salad and fruit she had bought were squashed to slime on the alley. The eggs had shattered and milk pooled with blood.

  She looked up at Sam and saw the drip coming off his fingers.

  “You’re hurt.” Without a thought, she grabbed his arm. The knife had cut through his jacket and the cashmere sweater beneath it, right into the skin. “Oh my God, Sam. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  He frowned, turning his arm this way and that, examining the wound. “It’s just a scratch.”

  “Just a— Look at it!” She pulled his hand towards her so she could peel back the material. Up close, she had to admit, it didn’t appear as bad as when seen through the shredded material. “Look, I’m not far from home. At least let me dig out a bandage or—”

  “Stop it, Lily. Listen to yourself. You just invited a complete stranger into your home. Get away from him. He’s dangerous.” The tone in Micah’s voice left her stunned for a moment. He had never spoken to her that way. Never!

  Her face must have frozen. People told her she sometimes got that fazed-out look when she heard the voices. When people spoke to her at all. And here was a person, a man, who had saved her life, a knight in shining armour—well, expensively casual clothes anyway. And she had never seen a man so handsome. No, beautiful. He was beautiful. His face captivated her, and her breath caught in her throat when she gazed into his eyes. A deep, rich brown, like polished walnut, framed by long, thick lashes, they made her feel like she was falling. She held his hand against her chest, his long fingers only a fraction away from the curl of her breast. His own chest rose and fell, and his mouth, sensuously expressive, rose in the tenderest smile of confusion she had ever seen.

  And something else.

  Desire.

  For her?

  Awkwardness washed back through her system, like being drenched in a bucket of water. She dropped his hand, but it didn’t fall.

  Sam towered over her, broad-shouldered and slim-hipped. Now free, his hand closed against the curve of her waist and slid down until he reached the flare of her hip. He leaned in and his lips began to part.

  Oh God, he was going to kiss her. She knew it and knew there was nothing she could do to stop him. She didn’t want to stop him. She barely knew this man and here she was standing outside an alley where half an hour ago she might have been murdered, ready to kiss him. Almost begging to kiss him.

  “Lily! Listen to me. Please. Don’t do this. You don’t understand.” Micah’s voice in her mind was sharp and acidic, afraid. Why was Micah afraid?

  “No,” she told him softly, but Sam was close enough to hear her murmured response to her spirit guide.

  He stiffened for a moment, and disappointment registered in those endless eyes. Then he drew back. “Of course, I apologise.” He bowed his head, oddly formal. “At least allow me to repeat that dinner invitation.”

  Lily’s breath escaped in a rush. A mix of disappointment and anger made her head swim. Damn it, Micah had no right to interfere.

  “I’m here to protect you.”

  She had to fight to keep her face from dropping into a scowl. And more, because she wanted to tell him that this was not an area of her life in which he had any jurisdiction. But she couldn’t say anything, not with Sam there.

  “Of course,” she said, feeling a surge of glee as Micah’s dismayed gasp rang around her head. “I’d love to. But only if you’ll let me see to that cut.” She smiled. “It’s my fault you got it, after all.”

  He laughed. “How can I refuse that?”

  She fell into step so easily beside him, as if she had always belonged there.

  When they reached her apartment building and Lily ran inside to get a bandage, she stopped in the living room, breathing hard. It was a mess. She thanked God she had asked him to wait in the foyer.

  “You weren’t thinking of bringing him up here?”

  “And why not, Micah?”

  “He’s dangerous, that’s why. He’s not human.”

  “Micah!” she exclaimed. “That’s an awful thing to say. Anyone would think you’re jealous.”

  “Lily, I know about these things. And he’s…”

  “He’s what?”

  Micah paused, almost as if he was trying to formulate an excuse, or force out a word he couldn’t quite say.

  Instead, he sighed. “He’s not human. I can’t tell you anymore.”

  “And why not? What are you hiding from me, Micah?” He’d never been like this before, so threatened, so demanding. Lily knew Micah hid things from her. She’d be a fool to entirely believe everything a voice in her head told her. And while she didn’t want to be accused of insanity or schizophrenia, she had made some subtle enquiries which had turned up nothing physically or mentally wrong with her.

  Well, apart from the visits from ghosts, the visions, the paranormal activity and the voices she heard. Especially the one who watched over her.

  “If you’re going psychic stalker on me, Micah, I swear to God… And you are not to come with me on this date, do you hear?”

  “Then be careful, if you won’t listen. And remember that I will always be here for you. Should you need me. I will never be far.”

  “Promise.” She had to hold firm.

  A pause followed, like someone grinding their teeth to get out of answering. Lily waited.

  “I promise.”

  “Everything okay?” Sam’s voice made her jump like a startled cat. He stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame, his jacket draped over his uninjured arm. He had rolled up the sleeve of the other. The cut looked quite small now. It didn’t need a bandage. It barely warranted a band-aid.

  “I’m fine. How did you get up here?”

  “The stairs. Your super said to go right up. I think he wants to show me an apartment.”

  “You’re looking for an apartment?” she squeaked.

  “This is yours, I take it?” She couldn’t shake the feeling that his smile was slightly mocking.

  She glanced around, mortified. “It’s normally neater.”

  “Liar.”

  “Micah! Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Lily willed him, knowing he couldn’t hear her. “It’s the apartment next door. Mrs. Chandler’s. She went into a home.” God, she was babbling like an idiot. She clamped her mouth shut to try and stop herself from making an even bigger fool of herself than she had already.

  Sam grinned, that maddeningly sensual grin that made her body tighten in ways she couldn’t ever remember feeling for anyone. Something inside her was melting, slowly, insistently, warming the ache between her thighs.

  “Hey, I like the neighbours,” he said. “Definitely a plus.”

  Lily laughed and offered the bandage in her hand but Sam held out his arm. The cut had closed. “All better,” he told her.

  “That healed fast.”

  “I’m a lucky guy. I had a great nurse.” He laughed, brushing her concerns aside with a good-natured grin. “It just looked worse than it was. Mind if I look at this apartment before we go out? I really am in the market. I can call for you later. About eight?”

  “Sure.” It would give her time to change, freshen up, tidy up. “However long you need.”

  Sam paid for the apartment upfront, in cash, both the deposit and three months’ rent. Not that it would take that long. To tell the truth, he had never encountered a woman quite so ready to be seduced. Lily’s body hummed beneath his touch. He couldn’t believe how easy this was going to be. For a
moment he’d thought she was going to give it up right there in the laneway.

  She wasn’t what he had expected. Tormented by voices, yes, certainly. He could tell when one of them was trying to get her attention, the way that vague, distracted look came over her, the way her grey eyes drifted and the colour deepened. One of them had distracted her just when he would have kissed her. But when she said no, he backed off. Part of the rules, of course. Seduction did not involve coercion. It took finesse.

  He stood in his new spartan bedroom, leaning back against the wall, listening. It was an old building, with thick walls, but that didn’t hinder him. Next door he could hear her. She was humming to herself. The innocence of the sound made him hard all over again.

  That was the other problem. She affected him in ways he hadn’t expected. Sexual attraction, yes, but also…he couldn’t put his finger on it. When he’d seen her pinned against the wall by that scum of humanity, something dark had erupted in him, and something dark for a demon was dark indeed. The first moments of attack were blurred and hazy, consumed with a distinctly undemonic, righteous rage.

  Strange. So very strange.

  It was almost as if he wanted to protect her.

  Sam placed a call through to Chez Henri for a dinner reservation and waited another thirty minutes, just listening, waiting. She had gone quiet for a while, then he heard her again, talking in that lower, measured voice so he could not hear the words. One of her “friends”, no doubt.

  Easy, he reminded himself, it was going to be easy. Spirits tended to flee when a demon came on the scene, and only the most determined would stick around. Her spirit guide seemed determined indeed. Well, a small challenge was a diversion.

  Sam flicked through the information the Nameless had implanted in his brain, assessing his tactics. Lily had no friends to speak of, an old schoolmate or two she never contacted, an ex-boyfriend who was a little too obsessed but seemed to have backed off. She had inherited a substantial amount of money at an early age and worked as a contract office admin if and when she felt like it, mainly for her own amusement. She was rich enough to be seen as eccentric rather than certifiable. Her family home was a long way out of town and so she rented here. Even though she didn’t have to.