He gestured with his fork. “He wears a ring. She does not. He listens to what she says. When he talks, she leans forward, and yet she keeps blushing. At the same time, he is looking around, as though worried someone will see them.”
That pudgy little woman was the mistress? Surely not. “Maybe she can’t wear the ring. For all you know she’s gained weight and it doesn’t fit anymore. Maybe they’re in love, and maybe he’s a good listener. And maybe he’s worried someone is watching them because someone is.” She gave Alexander a quick boot under the table. “Quit staring. It’s rude.”
Alexander grinned. “You are wonderful,” he whispered and then turned his attention back to the couple, before letting his gaze travel. “Humans are full of conflict because they have both free will and a veil of ignorance. You do not remember where you came from or what you are, so you spend entire lifetimes either trying to figure it out, or cope by creating purpose. Somewhere in that muddle of confusion and suffering, humans are capable of growth and even greatness, hopes and aspirations.”
“We also have fears.”
“Yes,” Alexander agreed, but he sounded more impressed than anything.
“But angels have free will too. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here with me. You choose to be here, unless I’m some bizarre mission from…” Zoë failed to come up with an appropriate word, so she pointed at the ceiling. Alexander looked up and then chuckled.
“No, you are not an assignment. I choose to be with you.”
“So you’re not that different.”
“My little Zoë. I am infinitely different. I know what I am. I have no doubts.”
“And that changes everything?”
“More than you can know.”
She considered, and thought it would be wonderful to know, to never experience uncertainty. “You told me earlier you don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“The conflict humans suffer does not come because they do not know the future. It happens because they do not understand the present, but when they do find the truth, there is growth and change, and that is the key.”
“To what?”
“To your innate superiority over other life forms in this world, my love.”
Zoë’s breath caught in her throat, and she coughed for a few seconds. Grabbing the cloth napkin next to her plate, she covered her mouth and closed her eyes. My love? Did he mean that? Good grief. Pull yourself together, Zoë.
“Sorry,” she said. Clearing her throat she added, “Something must have gone down the wrong way.” Alexander nodded, but with a smile that told her he read her better than she’d hoped. So much for keeping her thoughts to herself. This might prove to be yet another complication to a potentially fraught relationship. Love? She rolled the word around in her mind and considered if she could someday be, or already was, in love with Alexander. Maybe, she thought. She’d never been in love before. Her relationships had never lasted long enough for her to consider it.
When she lifted her gaze from the tablecloth and met his, he watched her with such intensity she flushed. “Do you want some air?” he said.
“No. No, I’m fine. Why don’t we make it an early night?” Her voice was quiet, barely even a whisper, but he stood and held his hand out to take hers.
They returned to their room in silence, as though they’d known each other a long time. She tossed her purse on the dresser and watched Alexander in the mirror. He propped a pillow against the headboard and leaned into it with his hands behind his head.
Zoë slipped off her shirt slowly and slid her jeans down over her hips. She had worn basic black panties and bra, not expecting any of what had happened today when she’d dressed this morning. With a pang of regret, she wished she’d worn more feminine underwear, something that would make her boobs look perky and accentuate her hips.
“You are beautiful,” Alexander said, meeting her eyes in the mirror.
“And transparent,” she said with a chuckle. “Do you always know what I’m thinking?”
“No,” he said, his face serious. “Your thoughts are for you alone, little Zoë.”
“You make me feel so human. I’m…so imperfect compared to you.”
He moved to the foot of the bed, and sat close enough to reach her. Running a finger along her waist and down her hip and thigh, he said, “Everything about you is real. My human appearance is a shell. The whole of you, the light in your smile and the thoughts that dance across your face, the way you tangle your fingers in your curls and the freckles on your nose made by the sun’s kisses—these things make you perfect.”
He stood and turned her around, tilting her chin with his hand so she looked into his eyes. “Your beauty will deepen with age, with the natural change and growth that comes in life. Those things are beyond me. If you could see yourself the way I do, you would be in awe and would know why I cannot help but love you.”
The kiss that followed left Zoë breathless. Any thoughts clouding her mind had vanished, and she felt completely grounded in the present moment, unable to worry about anything. “I need to take a shower,” she said finally. She disentangled herself from his embrace and walked slowly and deliberately to the bathroom door, feeling him watch every step. At the door, she lowered her eyes. “Join me?”
His warm and fulfilling presence moved closer. She turned on the water without looking around, but she could feel him as surely as when he touched her. His hands went to her bra clasp, and he carefully unhooked it and let it fall to the white tiles at their feet. He tugged at her panties and pulled them down to her ankles. She laid a hand on his naked shoulder to step out of them. The disappearing clothes thing would take some time to get used to. She might even miss the pleasure of undressing him from time to time.
He stepped into the shower first, and the droplets bounced off his skin, spraying her with mist as she took his hand and joined him in the tub. Soft, wet kisses followed, kisses that trailed from their lips and explored the flesh down their bodies, flowing with rivulets of warm water. They soaped each other’s skin, exploring the darkest, most intimate crevices and folds. Tender probing became intense desire and need, and their movements grew more urgent.
When they were thoroughly washed Zoë said, “Take me to bed.” She ran her hands over the hair on Alexander’s chest, down the solid line of curls leading to his groin, and then slipped her fingers around his solid erection. He turned off the faucet, swept her up and carried her, dripping water all the way to the bed.
Swimming in desire, she wrapped her legs around his hips as he laid her down and cried out as he thrust into her over and over again. His release came soon after hers, and again she was bathed in warm light as he groaned with ardent pleasure.
She smiled when she looked into his eyes as the glow faded. He kissed her again, still breathless, but now contented. Tiredness overtook her as he lay down beside her and pulled her into him. “I love you too.” She barely mouthed the words, not sure she was ready to say them, but also not doubting the truth of it. A low murmur rumbled in his chest, like a growl laden with contentment, telling her he had, in fact, heard her.
When Zoë woke, she extended a lazy arm, and quickly realized Alexander was not in bed. Peeling her eyelids open, she sensed the presence of an angel even before her vision adjusted. As the blur of sleep cleared, Zoë recognized it was not Alexander standing over her. This angel, in monstrous “exalted” form, swathed in cobalt light, thought it was invisible to her.
Her heart pounded and fear thudded through her veins, electrifying her body. With as smooth a motion as she could make in her excited state, Zoë made a grab for her purse, grasping the smooth chaos blade and quickly unsheathing it. She stood atop the bed, which allowed her to look eye to eye with the immense being. The knife was tiny compared to the being in front of her, and she felt even more vulnerable because of her stark nudity. “Who are you, and where is Alexander?”
The creature looked something like Thomas had when he transformed back at his office, sharin
g the square dragon-like head and six arms. But this angel was definitely female. Sculpted breasts stood out on her chest, seeming incongruent with her reptilian sparkling red scales. Tendrils of red came from her head and cascaded in a floating mass around her face. The exalted angel stepped back from the bed, but slowly, as though taking her measure. The female’s voice reverberated as she spoke. “I can see why you are a person of interest, Zoë Pendergraft.” Her eyes flicked to the blade in Zoë’s hand. “I was aware, of course, of your quirks, but did not take them seriously. How wrong I was.”
My quirks, Zoë thought. What a thoroughly insulting way to put it. “Who are you?” she repeated.
With a whoosh of air, a second angel appeared. Thomas. Zoë was relieved he was not trying to cloak himself, and that he had appeared in human form. Oddly, he wore a tuxedo, although his bow tie hung loose around his neck, and his black hair looked disheveled. She had to remind herself angels always looked exactly like they wanted to look, but she couldn’t help but wonder what he’d been up to before popping in.
Whether it made sense or not, relief washed over her. Better the angel you know, she thought. “Thomas?” Zoë said, still pointing the blade toward the female, but feeling more ridiculous and awkward at her nudity, especially when she noticed Thomas taking in the view appreciatively.
“This is Briony,” he said. “Obviously you can see her. How interesting.”
The blue tinge around Briony disappeared, but she did not change to her human form.
“My Guardian,” Zoë said, not quite able to keep the contempt out of her voice. She didn’t know why she said it with so much bitterness, probably because Alexander had told her Briony would not have interfered if Zoë had been in trouble, making her next to useless as a guardian angel, in Zoë’s opinion. “And what do you mean ‘person of interest’? To whom? And where is Alexander?” She wished she didn’t sound hysterical, but her frustration was coming to a boil and she wasn’t convinced yet that Thomas was going to help. Even recalling how nervous the blade had made Alexander when he’d first seen it, she didn’t think she could take two of them.
“Some things are not for you to know, human,” Briony said, all six of her muscular arms flexing. Guarding Zoë seemed the furthest thing from her mind. The reptilian angel stepped forward, and Zoë crouched.
“Thomas?” Zoë said again, this time not caring now how nervous she sounded.
Thomas barked at Briony in a language Zoë could not understand. The Guardian backed off a step.
“Zoë,” he said, “Briony is a warrior angel. I’m afraid she believes you are challenging her. You should put the knife away.” He sounded casual, as though talking about the price of peas, but judging by his tone with Briony, he wasn’t feeling casual. Why was Briony even listening to him, of all people, a so-called Free Angel?
“If someone doesn’t tell me what the hell this is about, I might challenge both of you.”
Briony sucked in her breath with a hiss of pleasure.
“And anyway,” Zoë shouted at Briony, “I thought you were supposed guard me, not attack me.”
The laugh that came from Briony’s chest crackled. She squatted as though about to leap, but Thomas stepped between them.
He spoke to Briony again in the same harsh language he had before, his tone carrying command. Although she could not decipher his words, Zoë understood their sting.
Briony tore her gaze from Zoë and looked down at Thomas, her exalted form towering over his human shape. Even with the difference in size, Zoë was not certain which was stronger. But she wouldn’t find out today. Briony glanced up at Zoë and then crossed her arms, and with a gust of wind, she disappeared.
As soon as she had disappeared, Zoë half sat, half collapsed onto the bed. She put the chaos blade back in its sheath, and threw it down on the mattress. Thomas turned and looked at her. “So you trust me?” he said.
Zoë vaguely waved her hand in response. She didn’t know, but her nerves were shot for the moment, and she needed some answers. When Thomas’ gaze slipped over her naked flesh, she pulled the rumpled sheet up to her chest. “Don’t any of you people knock?” she said.
Thomas grinned. “Not usually.” Then he turned serious. “Alexander asked me to tell you he had to leave. His trial is starting.”
“Now?” Zoë said. “It’s the middle of the night.” The time of day wouldn’t make any difference to angels, but it somehow seemed indecent to conduct trials after midnight.
“He is not permitted to leave until the process has come to a close, but he didn’t want you to worry when you found him gone.” Thomas smirked, as though the idea of being accountable to a human amused him. He looked around the room, taking in the old-fashioned décor, and the compact arrangement. “Frankly,” he said, “I don’t understand the appeal.”
Indignation surged through her. “The appeal of what? Me? Or do you mean sex in general.”
He laughed warmly. “Oh no,” he looked at her in a way that made her wonder if he could see through the thin sheet covering her naked body. “You are very charming indeed.” Somehow, she didn’t think he meant her personality. “Alexander is fascinated with humanity.” Thomas shrugged, as though that needed no further explanation.
“When do I need to come?” Zoë asked.
“Come?” Thomas said.
“To testify. I thought they wanted to question me at Alexander’s trial.”
“I am going to see what I can do to keep that from happening,” Thomas said. “Alexander’s relationship with you is not something that would reflect well. If I am successful, you will not need to come at all.”
She felt embarrassed, began to argue, but then decided Thomas probably did know what was best, at least as far as what would go over well in court. “Okay,” she said. “When will we know?”
“It’s impossible to say. If you are needed, I’ll send for you when it’s time.”
“Hours? Days? Weeks?” She hated the uncertainty.
Thomas smiled. “I have to get back. The hearing begins soon.”
Zoë held up a hand. “Thomas, wait. What about Briony? I’m…a little scared of her. Is she on my side?”
He tilted his head and considered. “I don’t know, Zoë. Whose side are you on?”
“I guess I’m on my side,” she said, then quickly added, “and Alexander’s side.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Then we shall have to see,” he said. “A word of advice though, Zoë.” His eyes flicked to the sheathed blade. “I would be very wary of drawing that weapon, if I were you. You don’t understand it.”
All she could do was nod. He had that much right anyway. “Okay.” When Thomas gave a little bow she said, “Thank you for coming to tell me, Thomas.”
He nodded, and rather inexplicably, blew her a kiss. With a gentle push of air, he disappeared.
Chapter 12
As soon as Zoë could move again, she darted up to check the locks on the hotel room door, although she knew it didn’t make any sense. She went back to the bed and picked up the blade, measuring its weight with her hand. It was her only defense against these seemingly invulnerable beings, and she was very glad she had it. She had no idea what it would do to them, but at least it meant they couldn’t threaten her blithely.
When she looked at it closely, it shimmered in her hand. She considered Thomas’ warning and decided she needed to learn more, but knew she had about a hundred other things more pressing right now.
It didn’t take long for Zoë to know she wouldn’t get any more sleep that night, so decided to head home. Alexander’s trial could take ages, so she didn’t see a point in waiting around.
A pang filled her chest at his absence, especially so soon after having decided she loved him. With a shake of her head, she chastised herself for acting like such a girl and got dressed. Within minutes, she’d tossed her things into her rucksack, although out of habit she looked twice in every nook of the room before she grabbed the key and headed down to the lobb
y.
When she slid the key onto the reception desk and told the young, groggy clerk she was checking out, she was annoyed to find herself stuck with the bill. How had he managed to get by without giving them a credit card? She assumed he must have used some angel mojo, and she figured she needed to explain money to him. He never seemed to have any, and as far as she could tell, he didn’t understand the entire concept of paying for things. She wondered briefly how he’d paid for the things he’d gotten at the convenience store. Surely he hadn’t stolen them. It wouldn’t surprise her if the cashier miraculously hadn’t thought to ask for money.
Zoë settled the bill and as she put her wallet away, the clerk said, “Thank you, Mrs. Scott.”
She blinked and then nodded. When he ducked out of sight to answer the phone, she grabbed the registration book and scanned the names. Sure enough, in bold looped handwriting was the name Alexander Scott about six lines from the bottom.
“I’m an idiot,” she said quietly. How could she be in love with someone and not even know his last name? Or worse yet, that he even had one.
Zoë glanced at the clock on the wall. Two AM. When she stepped into the night air and made her way down the steps outside the hotel, she opened her senses to her immediate surroundings. She instantly recognized the sparks of spirits around her, and began to make slow, wary movements into the night.
The spirits she’d known had never shown aggression or even the inclination to harm a human, but Alexander made it plain that they could. The Powers wouldn’t have accused Henry of something impossible.
Her wariness also had to do with the fact that she had never known spirits to appear and disappear en masse. Sure, they popped in and out, going she had no idea where, but for the entire town of spirits to appear and then come back when the sun went down? That implied some sort of outside force or organization she hadn’t seen before in the dead.
Not that she knew much, she chided herself. She’d taken her abilities for granted, and never tried to learn the rules spirits lived by. She had spent her life running into them on a near-daily basis, and she’d wave or say hi, or answer a question or occasionally ask one, but never had she questioned their behavior, where they went, or their experiences after death. Zoë hadn’t felt even a tickle of curiosity, and besides, they didn’t like to talk about death, as a rule. Life was the way it was, and she had accepted that fact.
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