Ivory Guard

by Natalie Herzer

  Pushing away the white-hot mess that was Raz in her heart and head with all her might, she didn’t so much as glance at him when she announced, “I’ll need some time alone with them.”

  From the corner of her eye she saw him nod sharply.

  Then she took a deep breath and got out of the car to walk up the stairs to the house.

  Stopping in front of the door with her suddenly trembling hand above the knob she faltered as doubt and anxiety swept her. She had just come from her first fight and now she was supposed to train others? Her own training wasn’t even finished. There was still so much to discuss and to learn. How could she be responsible for someone else’s life like that? She wasn’t ready, far from it. But standing here outside on the porch wouldn’t change any of it either, especially considering that they might have heard her coming up the stairs.

  Taking another deep breath she reminded herself that she had gotten out of the fight on top today, and that she would simply have to do so again. The shaking hands had come later and were due to something, or rather someone, else. He wouldn’t get to break her down either, she promised herself. She’d come this far. Then, straightening, she opened the door.

  “…still think this is a load of cra–”

  The voices died as soon as she stepped inside and three gazes fixed on her. The girl’s was on the healthy side of guarded and yet curious. Big – probably chocolate – eyes in a beautiful face that didn’t give away anything, she was the observer of the three. From the two guys one was watching her carefully but couldn’t hide the natural friendly smile in his eyes, while the other looked downright weary. The latter was the one who had been talking.

  At first Lillian had resented her dirty clothes and not being able to freshen up before facing them, now she was grateful for the scent of sulfur surrounding her and the black blood splattering across her otherwise sunny blouse. Nothing could hammer home the point better than that.

  Unhurriedly marching over to the sink to wash the black blood off her hands as if it were nothing more than a rather persistent speck of jam, she simply picked up the conversation where they had left off before she came in. “Well, if that’s the case then the make-up artist, or whatever guy, responsible for the gushing arteries should get a major raise.”

  Silence greeted her.

  Lillian grabbed a towel and, turning to face them, she added, “And not to forget those responsible for the black-and-white. Oh, and the guy who made those wings for you, too, I guess.” She looked pointedly at the wings the three of them sported.

  That elicited a chuckle from the girl standing to her right. Outside of purgatory Lillian would have guessed her skin to be the color of caramel. Her hair was thick and silky darkness and hit her back between her shoulder blades. She was dressed in rather fancy jeans and top and had a hip propped against the counter.

  Pushing away from it the girl stepped closer, offering her hand. “Hi. I’m Abby.”

  “Lillian. Hi.”

  Friendly Eyes, a rather handsome blonde dressed in jeans and shirt, nodded a greeting. “Matt.” Pockets in his hands, a small grin tugging up one corner of his mouth as he seemed to enjoy the verbal exchange.

  Leaning against the counter as well, Lillian returned the nod before looking straight at the weary guy. Tall, dark hair and dark eyes that were currently shooting daggers at her, he was standing in the middle of the room, stance wide, as if he owned it. A wanna-be arrogant touch to his face and entire bearing.

  He offered, a little reluctantly. “Joshua.”

  “Hi, Joshua. Nice to meet you, too.” She crossed her arms under her chest and cocked her head. “So. For real now. Do you really believe this is just some kind of joke? ‘Cause it’s really not.”

  “Don’t tell me it wasn’t your first thought when they showed up?”

  ‘They’ were the angels, she guessed. “Of course, it was my first thought. But there came more afterwards, since reality smacked me in the face and I didn’t have the luxury to stick with that first one.”

  Another chuckle from Abby and Joshua’s eyes darkened, which made Lillian wonder whether this was the right way to go. Rubbing his arrogant nose in his inability to accept their new reality might not be the good move here. However, she wasn’t in the mood to babysit him through it either. She forced her shoulders to relax, rolling them to work out the kinks and knots the fight had left there, then sighed.

  “I know this sounds crazy, believe me, I’ve been there. But I also know that I just killed four demons who were about to snack on human souls. I’m covered in their blood, so sorry for saying that but wake up and look around you.”

  He stayed silent, his fierce gaze on her brewing with the battle inside of him. She knew that the moment he didn’t have the audience he would think this through. That was enough for her, for now.

  “Anyway, you’ll believe it when you see and feel it. And right now, I’m really feeling it. I hope you don’t mind, but I need a shower. So…welcome Ivorys and make yourself at home. Bedrooms are upstairs, minus the beds though. It’s a little rustic but it’ll have to do for now.”

  Even though she was quick about it, Lillian needed the space and solitude the shower offered. She almost sighed as the hot water caressed her skin. Her muscles were tight with the stress, her body physically and emotionally depleted. The after-fight high had gone in a rush, leaving her a little weary. Though maybe that was partly Raz’s fault as well.

  Damn. Those thoughts brought her right back to the kiss.

  She wasn’t able to hold back the images any longer and this time she let them flood her. Let them take her through every second of that moment in the clearing again. His scent and taste, the feel of him, of his hard body against hers. Her heart clenched at the sweet memory and ached where the harsh rejection he had dealt out afterwards had cut deeply. The wave of anger that followed was preferable to the pain and so she held on to it. He had started it, dammit. If he couldn’t live with the consequences of his actions, it wasn’t her problem. She wouldn’t let him get her down.

  Ten minutes later, refreshed and dressed in clean, black skinny jeans and top, Lillian walked back into her room, to find Abby sitting on the floor, a book in hand and her duffel bag beside her.

  She looked up. “Hey, mind if we bunk together?”

  “Not at all. I had actually wanted to suggest the same earlier, but I forgot about it.”

  “No problem. I guess if it had been me I’d have hurried to get the blood off as well.”

  Lillian grimaced. “Yeah, I still have the sulfur in my nose.” She held up the bundle that was her bloodied top before putting it in her improvised laundry bag. “And the blood will be hell to get out. A little warning from the angels would have been nice. I’d have brought more clothes.”

  “So, this was your first fight?”

  “Yup.” Abby moved to get up so Lillian extended a hand to help her.

  “Is it weird that I don’t know whether I want know how it went down?”

  Lillian grinned at that but before she could answer a rap on their door had her turning around. Matt was standing in the doorway, behind him Joshua. “Hey, since we’re all settled in we thought about grabbing a bite. Wanna join?”

  After exchanging a glance with Abby, who nodded, Lillian replied, “Sure.”

  The four of them made their way downstairs. “Though I gotta warn you, our kitchen isn’t exactly well-stocked. Our in-house angel has weird priorities.” She stopped short at the sight in front of her. “And speaking of the devil.”

  There was a somewhat menacing looking angel waiting for them, and bags filled with food took over most of the counter behind him. In his usual pose of arms crossed over his chest, he looked at her, one perfect brow arched.

  “Angel, stargazer. Angel. Thought we settled that.”

  Lillian stared right back at him, own brow lifted, until the air seemed to buzz with more than just her suppressed anger. Then she remembered their audience and stepped forward. “We bo
th know that’s only wishful thinking on your part.”

  She hadn’t meant for it to be anything else than just another snarky comment they liked to exchange, but she must have hit a nerve. It flashed in his eyes, so quick she barely noticed it – uncertainty – before it was replaced by something hard.

  Floored Lillian continued to stare at him, wondering what the hell had just happened. What had she said that could account for such a reaction?

  He pushed away from the cabinet and moved to greet their new roomies. “I’m Raz. Nice to meet you.”

  It took her a moment, but manners eventually kicked in. “This is Abby, Matt and Joshua.”

  After the introductions were made Lillian took the lead in the kitchen. She needed the calm of routine, of the scents and sounds, the rustling about and her fellow Ivory crew didn’t mind it at all, especially given the fact that with the exception of Matt they were all the pop-it-in-the-microwave type. She decided to make them pizzas since it was actually something rather easy and quick to do, and thanks to Raz’s recent purchases they had a great many choices regarding the garnish. Lillian settled for pepperoni and cheese, simple but delicious.

  They moved into the living room, getting comfortable on the couch and floor around a carton box that served as a table, and just enjoyed the company and good food and a cool beer.

  “Damn. That was good.” Matt, who was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, patted his belly. “But now that delicious food can’t distract me anymore…I have to say I’m curious. And I think it’s time to share the how-angels-popped-into-my-life-and-messed-it-up stories.”

  Raz grunted and Matt shot him a sheepish look. “Sorry, man, but that’s kind of how it went down.” He looked around the improvised table and earned a round of confirming nods.

  Raz shook his head and rubbed a hand across his chin, but a smile curved one corner of his mouth. “I admit we aren’t always smooth about it.”

  Abby laughed. “Ha, that’s an understatement. But I get what you mean. There probably won’t ever be a good way to tell us. Nevertheless, you might want to be a little more choosy about the angels that come knocking on our door. I mean…Maion? Seriously? Come on, he doesn’t exactly inspire much respect, let alone credibility.”

  “You got pulled in by Maion?” Lillian asked, incredulous, before she burst with laughter that rang carefree through the room and was even joined by Raz with a rare chuckle of his.

  “Who’s Maion?” Joshua wanted to know.

  “He’s …” Abby was still laughing and held up a finger to indicate she needed a moment, before she explained, “He’s an angel. Of self-discipline but he has a rather …unique approach to that.”

  When Abby snorted again as she fought to keep in the laughter Lillian came to the rescue. “Maion was drunk the few times I have seen him. And he kinda looks like he has just gotten out of bed, in which he slept with his clothes on. Even the feathers of his wings are rumpled.”

  Joshua stared at them. “A shit-faced angel of self-discipline?”

  That one perfect phrase had them cracking all over again.

  One by one they shared their stories.

  Abby had been jogging, ear buds in and music loud, when she bumped into Maion. He had stood in the middle of the path as if he had somehow expected of her to sense his higher, magnificent presence. He had been quite disappointed when she hadn’t.

  Joshua had been watching a movie when a female angel, who Lillian didn’t know, knocked on his door. She suspected that maybe the macho in him hadn’t liked being told what to do by a woman and maybe that was why he bristled at the whole idea.

  As it turned out, Matt was another one of Maion’s recruits. When Lillian found herself laughing at Matt’s top imitation of the angel, she suddenly realized that her story wouldn’t be as funny.

  Automatically her gaze searched Raz and in his eyes she saw that the same thought had crossed his mind. Since Lillian didn’t want to ruin the mood, she had to try to get out of telling hers. Unfortunately, Abby and the guys would have none of it.

  “Oh, come on.”

  “You have to tell us. It can’t be that bad.”

  When they kept insisting she threw up her hands. “Okay, okay. Calm down, Jeez.” A laugh escaped her and she took another sip of beer, in part to calm her sudden nerves at the memories flooding her and in another to win more time. She would change her story, keep it short and harmless. “Okay. I came home one afternoon to find my mother in our living room with Raz. Wings, gloriole and all. My mother was chatting with an angel as if she did it every day.” She frowned. “Well…maybe she did. Who the hell knows, right?”

  She hadn’t meant to tell them. Had meant for them to have at least this one, first night of laughter and company, but the memories were stronger. Slowly the sadness crept into her voice and with it the truth.

  “Actually, there was another angel with him. Amber. She was beautiful and funny. I called her later that evening to get more answers.” Lillian’s eyes drifted to the windows, to the night and darkness beyond. A soft smile touched her lips. “She wore flip-flops. We talked, about the whole Ivory thing, about what was expected of us, what our life would look like. We planned for them, for Raz and her, to come and get me that same night since I had decided against a teary goodbye. But that didn’t pan out. Demons attacked our house, my parents. And in order to save us, Amber sacrificed herself.” Her fingers picked at the damp label of her beer. “She got killed right there before my eyes. Then Raz came in and…” Her gaze locked with his, the smoky gray of them her anchor, “…here we are.”

  The room was silent around her.

  Later that night Lillian lay in her sleeping bag, staring up at the flaky ceiling through the tarry darkness of the room that was barely touched by the sliver of a moon high in the sky. She shouldn’t have told her story. It had ruined the mood, to say the least. But she especially hated the fact that afterwards she had taken comfort, had gotten lost in a pair of silver eyes.

  She didn’t want to think about what had happened back at the golf club but the images flooded her mind no matter what, all her senses begging for another taste of him even though he had cut her so swift and so deep. Anger rose just as fast. He was the one who had started the kiss and she should keep her head in the game? Irritated she flopped onto her side and punched the sweater that served as her pillow, as if the fitful motion could shake her thoughts out of her head. Oh, she would show him how she could keep her head in the game alright.

  She lifted her gaze to Abby’s, eager to distract her from sadness and about to tell her all about the angel that was keeping her mind prisoner, only to find her friend already asleep.

  When they had silently crawled into their bags facing each other, Lillian didn’t know what to say at first to relieve the pressure rising in the room. But a look at Abby and she knew it wasn’t tension rising but a bond starting to form between them. Abby hadn’t said a word; no empty I’m-sorry or other platitude, and that meant more to Lillian than she could ever say. Abby didn’t need words, since it was all in those big eyes of hers filled with compassion and the flicker of pain that said she knew. Exchanging sad, soft smiles they both knew that someday they might talk about it, but this night it was too soon. This night the silent glimpse of bared souls was enough to encourage the budding friendship between them.

  Taking comfort in that promise Lillian finally pushed all thoughts away and closed her eyes as well.

  ELEVEN

  Raz watched as the four Ivorys fought in simulated battle against each other.

  They all had become stronger, faster and sharper during the last two weeks. Without being bossy or arrogant about it Lillian had shaped her position as their leader and protector; slowly and subtle, for instance during training sessions such as this one when she pointed out a weak point to Matt. Even though she still needed to learn as well, she often stood beside him in front of her team to instruct. He had to admit he liked that; he respected and admired her f
or her strength – in body and mind. She was capable and responsible and most of all she just wouldn’t break down. Whatever problem his superiors and he threw her way, she braved them all, growing with each test.

  However, even though they trained together… he missed her. She seemed so far away, out of reach now. She behaved differently with him, and Raz figured he was victim to what human men called the silent treatment. The snarky remarks and wit he had come to enjoy – she had refused him any of that since their kiss. God, he shouldn’t remember that kiss, especially when her lovely body was right there in front of him. Hidden only in sweatpants shorts and sports bra, due to the sun burning down on them as if it was some kind of competition, it didn’t leave a lot to imagination. Her dark, silky mane was up in a bun, leaving her neck bare and tempting his eyes to roam where his mouth had been. He remembered the feeling of her soft curves beneath him, her warm vanilla scent that teased him mercilessly. Her tongue. He nearly growled.

  Joshua was talking to him, he suddenly realized. Shit. He had to get a grip. An angel wasn’t supposed to wallow in sweet memories and an angel most definitely wasn’t supposed to fantasize about his trainee’s luscious body, no matter how enticing. It was expected of him to be immune to such earthly desires.

  Raz cleared his throat and hoped to look his usual dark and daunting self, with arms crossed over his chest, and not like the drooling idiot he felt, since he was supposed to observe their skills – and not the one girl he couldn’t get out of his mind and who was frowning at him now.

  “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “Lillian keeps correcting my uppercut. Is it really that bad?”

  Raz suspected the boy had grown up with a lot of fatherly and dumb talk about male pride and prowess, which was probably the reason why he didn’t care for taking orders from a woman. Joshua would have to get used to it, especially when it ended with him improving his otherwise damn good technique.