Also by Micah Persell
Operation: Middle of the Garden
Of Eternal Life
Of the Knowledge of Good and Evil
Of Consuming Fire
Of Alliance and Rebellion
Of Blind Fate
Wild and Wanton
Emma
Persuasion
Of Blind Fate
Operation: Middle of the Garden
Book 5
Micah Persell
Copyright © 2016 by Micah Persell.
All rights reserved.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher; exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.
ISBN 10: 1530709180
ISBN 13: 978-1530709182
ASIN: B01DCHZ5CU
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.
For Anna – The sexiest, bravest devil in a blue dress I’ve ever met.
Dear Readers, please consider donating to the following charity, for Anna and for all those who struggle daily with Ulcerative Colitis:
Crohn’s & Colitis Foundation of America
Acknowledgements
Thank you to Christine Leo for both the rockin’ cover and the invaluable feedback on the book itself. I truly lucked out when we became friends.
Thanks to Wendy for not only the friendship since high school (we’ll leave out how long ago that was…) but for being a fan of the whole series. I cannot thank you enough for answering all my questions about Islam. You helped bring Farrah to life!
Thank you to Mary Ann, a copy editor I have truly enjoyed working with. How many girls can say something like that? Thanks for being the polish to this book’s shine.
And, finally, thank you to Cameron for taking on an occasional extra dose of the not-fun adulting stuff so I could have enough time to pursue my passion. None of my books would have happened without you, boo-baby.
Glossary of Terms
Compulsion: A phenomenon specific to angels. Once an angel plans out his or her mission, free will is not a possibility. At a certain point, the Compulsion will take over. The angel will complete the mission regardless of whether he or she wants to.
Daughters and Sons of Men: Humans.
Fall, The: A heavenly being who succumbs to his or her Temptation will Fall: a phenomenon through which the heavenly being loses divine status and some or all of his or her powers.
Impulse Pair: Anyone who eats of the Tree of Eternal Life will experience the Impulse—a phenomenon in which the human pairs with his or her intended mate. The humans in an Impulse pair will experience intense longing to be with their Impulse mate, and the longer they abstain from each other, the more intense the side effects of the Impulse. Impulse pain will grow until it becomes debilitating. Impulse pain can only be cured and avoided by the Impulse pair’s consummation.
Knowledge, The: The ability, provided by the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, to determine whether someone’s intentions are good or evil.
Sons of God: Angels; not always “sons,” which is an archaic reference used to encompass all of a species. Angels can also be female.
Temptation: Each heavenly being will at some point encounter his or her Temptation—the one thing that will tempt them to Fall. Temptations can take several forms, but the most common is a daughter (or son) of man.
Tree of Eternal Life: The tree in the Garden of Eden that bears fruit that turns living beings immortal.
Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil: The tree in the Garden of Eden that caused the Fall of mankind. The fruit of this tree counteracts some of the effects of the Tree of Eternal Life. The fruit gifts humans with the Knowledge.
Voice, The: A mysterious, disembodied entity that speaks directly to the minds of those who have eaten of the Tree of Eternal Life.
The Lord God made all kinds of trees grow out of the ground—trees that were pleasing to the eye and good for food. In the middle of the garden were the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.
Genesis 2:9-10
After he drove the man out, he placed on the east side of the Garden of Eden cherubim and a flaming sword flashing back and forth to guard the way to the tree of life.
Genesis 3:24
Now it came about, when men began to multiply on the face of the land, and daughters were born to them, that the sons of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful; and they took wives for themselves…
Genesis 6:1-2
Contents
Cover
Also by this Author
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Glossary of Terms
Biblical References
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
About the Author
1
Day One of the Cycle
Oliver Phillips drew in two lungs-full of the spiced air, closed his eyes, and smiled. “This is a fucking beautiful country.”
“Uh huh,” Luke said.
Oliver’s eyes popped open. The bright, desert sun glinted off a nearby basket of golden saffron, blinding him for a moment. He squinted at his partner. “Hell’s wrong with you? Someone piss in your oatmeal?”
Oliver’s best friend of ten years rolled his eyes and side-stepped to avoid plowing into a woman with a piled-high basket on her head. When Luke smiled suddenly, Oliver peered ahead and spotted a very familiar group of oncoming children. As Oliver was patting his pockets, Luke transferred a handful of coins from his own left pocket to his right before saying, “It is a beautiful country. I recall saying so several times a couple of days ago until you told me you would piss in my oatmeal if I didn’t shut up.”
“Doesn’t sound like me.” He vividly remembered saying exactly that—and much worse, actually—to Luke as he’d fretted over Oliver’s convulsing form just two days ago.
They both slowed down the closer the children got. Oliver bit the inside of his cheek when he saw one small hand sneak into Luke’s right pocket and emerge triumphant with a fistful of afghanis. The kids ran off, disappearing as quickly as they had appeared.
Oliver sighed. “We needed that money, Luke.”
Luke met Oliver’s eyes, unrepentant. “Why?”
“Because I gave them all mine about five minutes ago.”
“Oh.” Luke cleared his throat. “You sho
uld have told me.”
Oliver snorted. “Like that would have made a difference.” The same group of kids had been following them around for days, and Oliver was sure all of Kabul was waiting for them to give up the pretense of being pick-pocketed and start simply handing the money to the kids at any moment.
If they had any money left.
Something deliciously sweet permeated the air, and Oliver’s gaze snapped from stall to stall until he spotted it: firni. He reached into Luke’s left pocket and pulled out a couple of remaining coins before barreling toward the shop that sold the delicious pistachio, pudding-like dessert Oliver had grown addicted to over the last two weeks.
“Hey,” Luke began, raising his voice as Oliver took off. “You said we needed that!”
“Yeah.” He ducked into the stall. “For this.” Obviously.
Oliver ordered two servings in Pashto before Luke made it to his side. After Oliver paid, Luke held out his hand for the second serving, as though they were in some parallel universe in which Oliver shared firni. Oliver shifted the small earthenware bowls to one hand and smacked Luke’s hand out of the way with the other. Luke shook his head, turned to the shopkeeper, and ordered his own firni in Pashto much more flawless than Oliver’s.
As he leaned against the counter, Oliver ate his dessert while scanning the busy crowd for any sign of the face he would recognize in a pitch black room. It was the face that haunted his dreams.
The face he saw as he died.
“Today feels different,” Luke said at Oliver’s shoulder.
Oliver grunted. It did feel different, and that made him wary. If he got his hopes up…well, things would be harder than normal in about three days.
“Have you thought about what you’ll do when you meet her for the first time?” Luke asked.
Of course he’d thought about what he’ll do. Depending on the day, his plan vacillated between dragging her to prison and throwing away the key, or falling at her feet and begging her to touch him.
Oliver focused on his firni and projected don’t fuck with this topic as hard as he could. He happened to like his current good mood.
Luke blithely ignored Oliver’s signals. “Because, I constantly think about what I’ll do when I meet my Impulse Mate for the first time.”
“That does not surprise me.”
“Hey, it’s a big deal,” Luke said, a little defensively. “You’ve heard how first impressions have screwed the other guys with their mates.”
“Screwed, that is, if they care what their mates think about them.”
Luke’s gaze grew focused until Oliver could feel it burning his cheek. “Do you truly not?”
Two years ago, while he’d been a prisoner of war, Oliver had spotted a woman through the bars of his cell and immediately Impulse-Paired with her, his body and soul recognizing her as his one true mate thanks to the fruit he’d eaten from the Tree of Eternal Life. Every seven days since then, one hundred and five times to be exact, Oliver had died because of that fateful glance, unable to touch his mate or be touched by her in return as his body demanded. And he couldn’t think of a single reason she’d have been in his enemy’s camp, roaming freely, if she weren’t the enemy herself.
“She’s killed me, man. Like, a lot. So, no, I don’t want to settle down in the ‘burbs and make 2.5 kids with her.” He wanted revenge. Nice, sexy revenge.
“You don’t know if it was on purpose or not.”
“Oh, well. As long as it was an accident.” Oliver rolled his eyes and scraped the last of the firni into his mouth. Accidental enemy. Absurd.
Luke sighed. “Just…don’t do anything you can’t take back. Plans change.”
“Not mine.”
“Right. Of course not. Don’t know what I was thinking.”
The silence between them grew thick.
“So, anyway, the first time I see her—” Oliver groaned, but Luke just talked louder “—I’ll walk right up to her, look her in the eyes, and say, ‘You’re beautiful.’” Luke smiled. “And then I’m going to kiss her.”
Oliver blinked and then tipped his head back and laughed. Hard. When he could open his eyes without them tearing up, he looked at Luke. “That is some corny shit, man.”
“Girls like corny.”
“Not any girl you want to end up with, trust me.”
“I’ll want her.”
“You don’t even know if she’s beautiful.”
“I’ll think she’s beautiful.”
Oliver shook his head. Life was going to kick Luke in the balls so hard.
“So,” Luke nudged Oliver’s arm with his own, “what are you going to do when you see her?”
Oliver rolled his shoulders, a tingling shooting up his neck. He turned away from Luke. “I’ll walk right up to her and say, ‘Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya—’” Something snagged Oliver’s gaze, and he froze.
“Ha, ha, you’re freakin’ hilarious.” Luke noticed Oliver’s focus. “Oliver?”
“Shh.” Oliver’s gaze followed a woman as raptly as a puppy tripping over itself to keep up with its master. She wore a hijab and a loose-fitting tunic over wide-leg pants. He couldn’t see any part of her body well, yet she moved between shops with amazing ease, and there was something in the sway of her hips. Something hypnotic.
It made Oliver hungry, and not for firni. He placed the two empty bowls on the counter. With a groan, Oliver rubbed a palm over the sudden ache in his belly—an ache he was very familiar with, an ache that had not been sated in more than two years.
“Okay, you’re starting to freak me out here.” Luke moved into Oliver’s line of sight. Oliver jerked his head to the side so he could keep staring at his mystery woman.
Could he be with her? Oliver tried his best not to get his hopes up. No matter how many times he’d tried to sate himself in the arms of another woman in the past weeks, he’d never been able to see it through. Would it work this time? Would he finally get relief?
Oliver cleared his throat and twisted his hips to hide his lower body behind a pile of blankets. Something was clearly behind the “let’s have her” plan, and Oliver was damn well going to try. He just had to…calm down first. Running with a stiffy was just about the last thing he wanted to do right now.
“I need that woman.” Oliver gestured over Luke’s shoulder with his chin.
Luke twisted around, caught a glance of that woman, and turned back around, his expression thunderous. “Oh, no.” He shook his head. “Not this again. I’m putting my foot down, Oliver.”
Oliver’s gaze never left the girl. “I advise against that.”
“We don’t have enough money left to pay for the damage when you destroy another room.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Call me crazy, but I’d say it’s the fault of the guy who keeps pitching a tantrum when his plan of sleeping with strangers falls through.”
The woman paused mid-stride, and turned to the side. Her hijab was worn in a way that hid most of her face, but the warm, Afghanistan sun sparkled on the tip of her upturned nose, and Oliver’s world crashed down around him. He sucked in a breath so quickly, he choked on it. “Fuck,” he grated through a tight throat. “It’s her.”
After all this time. After dozens of deaths that were far worse than the eight years of imprisonment he’d suffered before her. She was here. Within his grasp.
Without another word, Oliver shoved past Luke and began plowing through the marketplace with little regard for the people he risked mowing down.
“Finally,” Luke said beneath his breath from right beside him. “Let’s get her, man.”
Oliver couldn’t agree more. For the first time since they’d left the States two months ago to find his Impulse Mate, Oliver wished he’d been as sappy as Luke and had a plan for what to do once he reached her. He couldn’t very well throw her over his shoulder and take off for the nearest military airport, no matter how much he may want to.
“Damn,” he muttered, cutting ar
ound an elderly man, his eyes glued to the prize.
“It’s going to be okay.” Luke clapped Oliver’s shoulder while helping to clear a path. “Just think. If this goes well, you could be stateside with her tonight.”
Oliver stumbled, catching himself by throwing out a hand and grabbing hold of Luke’s shoulder. That would be…everything he’d been dreaming of.
His path back to life, his old life before pain and suffering, was mere feet away. God, but she was lovely. He could still only see her in profile, but her features were lush. That pert nose was accompanied by full lips and thick eyelashes that stuck out far past her head covering. Eyelashes that could tickle his skin as she….
He gulped. The Voice, which sometimes spoke to him and all of the others who had eaten the fruit of the Tree of Eternal Life, was pounding The One through his skull on repeat, and it was only getting louder and louder the closer he got to his woman.
He shook his head hard in an attempt to dislodge the cacophonous and unwelcome litany. Not his woman. Not “The One.” His enemy. Yes, that was the reason he was desperate to close the distance between them. The only reason.
Just a step away now. Luke fell back, automatically covering Oliver’s six. Oliver stretched his arm out, his lips parting. His fingers splayed, wanting to touch as much of her as they could, even inches away.
Closer.
Closer.
Contact. His fingers were on her. Wrapping around her upper arm. Feeling the heat of woman beneath her clothing. Oliver’s eyelids grew heavy, and he was sorely tempted to close them so that he could absorb more of the feel of her beneath his fingertips. Beneath his touch at last. But then she began to turn, and he couldn’t close his eyes.
Good thing, too, because she wasn’t turning. She was spinning. He barely had time to track her hand as it flew through the air, landing in a vicious chop to his throat.
Of Blind Fate (Operation: Middle of the Garden Book 5) Page 1
