by Ford, Lizzy
She sat beside him. “They’re a little more active and uh … assertive than I initially told you.”
He glanced at her, not at all pleased with the news.
“They seem to have made Kaylee the justification for their cause. I guess I didn’t want to tell you because … well, they’re led by someone you know. A guide. Or former one.”
“He convinced a bunch of ex-angels to commit violence. Whatever he is, he’s dangerous,” Nathan said. “You know where he is?”
“It’s a she. Not a he.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. We still need to find her.”
“You may be better situated to helping than us.” Maggy pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket and unfolded it. “This particular cult leader knows you. I really hoped you could come here, do the job and leave. I never wanted to show you this.”
Nathan sat back, chewing while he waited. He doubted anything could surprise him after his discovery this morning.
“Jordan, this is fantastic,” he said after swallowing. “You’re right. Don’t need the death sauce.”
“No shit,” Jordan replied.
Maggy was glaring at him.
“I’m listening,” Nathan said.
“Good. Because if anyone can fix this, it should be you.” She slapped the paper down in front of him.
His appetite fled. Nathan stared at the paper, unable to believe the grainy photograph was real. The last time he saw the woman in the picture, cameras hadn’t existed. Modern technology hadn’t either.
It was the day before he became a guide, the day he thought she’d died.
He picked up the paper, gazing intently at the face of Zyra, the woman he left the Roman armies to marry and settle down with, the only woman he’d ever loved. They made it a year before the spark faded and the problems began. He went back to the army, the only other thing he really knew. It was three years after they married that she died, killed by a routine raid from invaders trying to take the peninsula. Such raids weren’t uncommon when one lived on the Sea. He’d been pondering the offer from Pedro, ready to turn it down in order to stay and work on his failing marriage.
When she died, he had nowhere else to go.
“I thought this would be hard,” Maggy said quietly, studying him. “You burn through women for three thousand years then find out your wife is still alive.”
“Pretty sure a three thousand year old separation qualifies as divorce,” he said, tossing the paper. He tapped his fingers, deep in thought.
“There must be something special about her. You never let any of the rest of us you dated get close.”
“I like things simple,” he replied. He went back to eating.
“That’s it?” Maggy demanded. “I tell you your dead wife is still alive, and you’re going to sit and eat breakfast?”
He nodded.
She gave an exasperated sigh. “I’ll admit, I’m kinda glad you’re taking this well. If we can’t handle the situation, we might have to take her out. I wondered how they were able to track Kaylee, but it makes sense, if she’s one of ours.”
Nathan paused in his eating. For a few precious moments, he’d forgotten about his biggest problem. Or maybe, had Kaylee just become his second biggest issue?
“Where is she?” he asked, glancing at the paper.
“Why?”
“You didn’t tell me who she was so I could sit around.”
“True,” Maggy said. “But I need to know what your stance on her is.”
“Professionally, she’s an issue. I’ve probably got the best chance of reasoning with her, which I’m assuming is why you told me. If I can’t get her to back off, we go to plan B.”
“You’re determined not to kill Kaylee,” Maggy said, puzzled. She leaned closer to him, until only he could hear her words. “Nathan, what if Zyra is right? What if the best way – the only way – to do this is to get rid of her?”
Nathan sat back. He’d wanted to find a way to help Kaylee before, because years of preserving innocent lives made him want to adhere as much as possible to the spirit guide credo. Now that he knew there was another reason why he hesitated, he was faced with a better understanding of what was really at stake. He couldn’t operate with his normal disregard for the rules.
“I know that look,” Maggy said. “We need to talk, don’t we?”
He smiled mirthlessly at the familiar words. Normally, he was the one to say them.
“Yeah, we do,” he said and stood. “In private.”
He walked away from the kitchen and trotted up the stairs to the level with the bedrooms. A small sitting area was at the top of the stairs, between the two wings of rooms.
Maggy sat, but Nathan couldn’t. He was starting to feel wired. Thinking too much.
“Zyra’s probably right,” he started. “The simplest solution, the easiest one, is to get rid of Kaylee. Poof. Problem solved. No more Shadowman, no portal to Hell.”
“Yeah,” Maggy agreed.
“Devil’s advocate. No pun intended.” He faced her and flashed a grin.
She rolled her eyes.
“Tell me why this solution won’t work.”
Maggy hesitated. “Well…” she trailed off, pensive. “Her death won’t get rid of this new group of Zyra’s. It might give them a good recruiting foundation, which could cause an issue with us down the road.”
“Okay. What else?”
“No one knew about Amira and the gateway until a few weeks ago. I assume now that it’s close to being common knowledge, especially since Zyra has been one step ahead of us all this time. If we and Shadowman can track the girls, others can, too.”
“All valid points.”
“But not the reasoning you’re looking for,” she said. “What am I missing?”
Nathan was quiet for a moment. He sat down on the couch, thoughts on Kaylee, Zyra and the horrible timing of running into both. His life had been relatively simple for so long.
“You’re the last person I thought would shy away from pulling the trigger. Why, Nathan?”
“Taking Kaylee out of the equation is a band-aid, a temporary fix,” he replied. “You’re right. Her death won’t help us deal with Zyra or prevent others from targeting Amira. We’ve entered a new era. We can’t go back to the way things were last week, which means, Kaylee may be the first person we have to deal with this, but she won’t be the last.”
Maggy was quiet.
“We need to find a way to deal with what’s coming in a way that allows us to maintain our work as guides,” he continued.
“You always were a few steps ahead,” she murmured. “I can’t shake the feeling there’s more, Nathan. And not just to Zyra’s involvement and how she knows all the stuff she does. There’s more to why you aren’t willing to just pull the trigger on this one.”
“There is,” he said quietly. “But I can’t tell you why. I’d rather not kill Kaylee. I’ll work with the others and deal with Zyra personally. If I tell you where Kaylee is, I need you to promise you’ll keep her safe from anyone who wants her permanently dead.”
Maggy’s stunned expression faded. “Wait, you you’re passing her off to me?”
“It’s part of protocol, Mags. If you’re personally involved, you get reassigned,” he reminded her. “So I’m reassigning her to the person I trust most, outside of Troy.”
“You’re quoting protocol at a time like this?” she demanded.
“What do you want me to do? The chance of Kaylee living through this is very small.”
“It’s better if you’re involved!”
“I am involved. I told you – I’ll deal with Zyra. I’ll run interference with everyone I have to. But I can’t be on the front line.”
“Is this because of Zyra? You still have feelings for her?”
“No.” I have no fucking idea what I feel towards her.
Maggy studied him for a long minute. “You’re chicken shit.”
“I am not.”
“Are
, too!”
“Not!”
“Sorry to interrupt,” a third voice drew their attention to the stairs. Randy’s head and shoulders were visible. “Someone named Zyra is at the front door.”
“Dammit,” Maggy muttered. “We’ll be down in a minute.”
They watched Randy’s head disappear from the stairwell as he descended the steps once more. Nathan started forward.
Maggy grabbed his arm. “You’re seriously just done with this conversation?”
“Yeah. I told you how it’s gonna be,” he replied. “You promise to see to her safety personally?”
“Of course. I’d do anything you asked.”
“I’ll text you her address.” Nathan turned and left, trotting down the stairs.
“Nathan!” Maggy snapped.
“Thanks, Mags,” he replied with a wave. He heard her cursing him and smiled tightly, aware she’d do what he asked, no matter how pissed she was about his reasoning behind it.
She was somewhat right. In circumstance like this one, he probably shouldn’t be reassigned. If he were a different person, he’d take his place beside his OTL, where Pedro and the angels had conspired to put him, and live happily ever after. His instincts were telling him that he would only cause more danger and grief to Kaylee.
Or maybe, he feared he would. Unaccustomed to fearing anything, Nathan wasn’t able to determine what his emotions and instincts wanted him to do, except that he hated not being able to push them aside.
Instead, he was about to face his wife for the first time in centuries. Not one to ponder on his emotions, he was still curious about how he’d feel facing her. Seeing her picture had pulled up many memories – most of which were negative. He suspected it would be different in person when he was able to see her, smell her, touch her.
If Kaylee was meant to be his, then Zyra had been a mistake. One that influenced his behavior for thousands of years. It didn’t seem possible that was the case, that he’d made that big of a mistake. His relationship with Zyra had been incredible while it lasted. How much did a soul agreement really mean, if he was able to marry someone else and then live alone for so long? He’d always regarded soul agreements and OTLs as destiny, a very cruel and horrible fate that awaited a few select people. Now, he was hoping they were a choice and that losing a chance at an OTL wasn’t going to put him through the heartache he went through when he thought he’d lost Zyra.
He wanted none of that. He wanted his emotions jammed deep down inside him, out of the way, so he could do his job.
Nathan prepared himself to face Zyra. Randy paused at the front door, hand on the knob. Nathan nodded to him, and the door was opened.
Three figures stood at the end of the sidewalk leading up to the townhouse. Nathan exited alone and pulled the door closed behind him. He walked halfway down the sidewalk, taking in the three.
Spirit guides. All of them. Zyra was dressed all in black, her dark blonde hair in a loose ponytail and her features stoic. Even after so long a part, he still knew the exact shade of her blue eyes and remembered how he used to trace her upturned nose with his index finger. She was trim and tall, her leggings clinging to her shapely legs and hugging her ass in a way he found appealing. He recalled the days they spent in each other’s arms, making love instead of eating and sleeping for hours at a time.
Like him, she hadn’t aged a day.
She regarded him for a second then moved away from the two male guides to meet him at the halfway point.
“Zyra.”
“Nathan.”
They sized each other up for a moment. Nathan saw how fast the pulse was at the side of her throat. He, however, felt calm, though he strained to smell her scent. Would it be familiar? Comforting? Intoxicating, the way he remembered it?
“Your target isn’t here,” he started.
“That’s how you want to start this?” she asked. “No hello or nice to see you or where have you been?”
“I’m not certain it matters at this point,” he replied. “You aren’t here to say hello, anyway.”
Zyra shifted her weight to one foot and nibbled on her lower lip, a sign he recalled from their time together meant she was troubled.
“You’re wrong. I did come to say hello.”
“You had three thousand years for that.”
Anger glittered in her eyes. “It wasn’t easy walking away from you.”
“As I recall, you died.”
“I didn’t want it to end that way. Or at all,” she said softly. “I was never supposed to fall for you in the first place, just recruit you. Pedro wouldn’t let me retire, which I tried to do multiple times after we were married.”
“He’s shifty for an angel,” Nathan said.
Zyra crossed her arms, waiting. She was beautiful and bright. And dangerous, if she was willing to take down an office building in the middle of the day to get to Kaylee.
Nathan said nothing else. Had he ever really known her? He could certainly never trust someone who killed a fellow spirit guide.
“He told you, didn’t he?” she asked. “He told you I didn’t die, that I was sent to recruit you?”
“No, he didn’t,” Nathan said shortly.
“I see. That explains why you didn’t try to find me.”
“What stopped you from trying to find me, Zyra?” he asked, glancing around.
“Can we talk in private?” she asked.
“Sure.” He spun without waiting for her to say more. Knowing Randy at least was watching, he pointed to the garage door.
It was opening by the time Nathan reached it. Too aware of Zyra’s presence behind him, Nathan was sorting through his thoughts. He didn’t believe what Zyra was trying to tell him. He knew a lie when he heard it, but he also heard the regret and emotion in her voice.
She really did love him, or had at one point, and he wasn’t entirely certain his emotions for her were gone. If they were, wouldn’t he have forgotten about her after three thousand years?
They stepped into the garage. Nathan crossed to the remote control on the wall near the door and punched it.
The door closed.
Zyra glanced uneasily towards it but didn’t object.
He stood before her, and they waited until the grumble of the motorized door faded.
Gazing up at him, Zyra tugged his head down to hers. She kissed him. A familiar surge of lust flew through him, and he returned the kiss, hard and deep. Her hands skimmed down his body they way they had years before, and he backed her into the car then lifted her. Her long legs wrapped around him. Nathan leaned against her and the car, kissing her hungrily.
“Nathan,” she whispered, breaking the kiss.
He trailed kisses down her neck. She sucked on his earlobe then ran her hands through his hair.
She seemed more than interested in renewing their physical relationship, but he found himself hesitating. She tasted and smelled the way he remembered. The reminder had the opposite effect than he expected. While turned on, he was also aware that something was missing. He didn’t know how to voice what it was or why it bothered him. There was a time when he prayed for one more day to run his fingers through her hair the way he did now, for one more kiss.
And then he’d moved on, even if he never again trusted his heart to another.
Until Kaylee.
“What’s wrong?” she asked huskily, shifting against him.
Unable to pinpoint what felt off, he’d stopped kissing her. Nathan drew a breath and lifted his head from the nape of her neck. With some effort, he reined in his lust and released her, stepping back.
Zyra straightened her clothing, her look slightly dazed. There were full days when they’d both worn that expression.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
Zyra studied him for a moment. “Believe it or not, I think about you all the time, Nathan. I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“What’s done is done,” he said calmly.
She sighed.
“Don’t t
ell me you’re here to see me after three thousand years,” he warned. “You can’t do that cute little ass wiggle and expect me to forgive you.”
“It used to make you smile, no matter how upset you were,” she said. “You sure it won’t work?”
“Positive.”
“I did want to see you,” she started. “But yes, you’re right. There’s another reason I’m here.”
“To find Shadowman’s anchor.”
“Yes.”
“The anchor isn’t here.”
“I know that.” Zyra’s gaze trailed down his body and returned to his eyes. “There are a few of us like-minded guides who believe a more aggressive strategy needs to be taken against those who threaten incarnated angels and humans. The guide corps as a whole is too reactionary. Why do damage control when we can pre-empt problems in the first place?”
“I don’t disagree. But I don’t believe killing is the way to do it,” he returned. “Taking out an office building full of innocent humans? That’s how you’re going to run things?”
“We took precautions. But we’re talking about one human, whose death happens to be all that will stop Shadowman from opening the portal to Hell! Is stopping him worth an office building full of people? Yes. We know that we only killed one guy who wasn’t fast enough to get out. Shadowman killed the rest.”
“And when one guy turns into two? Two hundred? Two million?”
“That won’t happen, Nathan. There has never been a fallen guardian before. There may never be another one.”
“If you believed that, you wouldn’t have felt the need to form a more proactive group,” he pointed out. “The anchor is an excuse for you to push an agenda.”
Zyra gazed at him and then frowned. “From what I’ve heard, you never back down from something like this. And trust me, Nathan, I know what skeletons are in your closet. You’ve killed in the line of duty more than a few times.”
“With discretion. I’ve opted not to kill many other times as well,” he snapped. “This is one of those times.”
“How is this anchor more worthy of living than the twelve year old in Mexico you killed a hundred years ago? The elderly man twenty years ago? I have a file this thick about you.” She held up her forefinger and thumb two inches a part.
