by Sarah Gilman
Returning to the tree, he focused his senses on his surroundings, but his thoughts went to Lexine. Any hope that he could have both Lexine and the position of a dedicated Guardian had been erased. He’d have to choose.
The idea of giving up either grated on his skin.
Sure, there’d be nothing shameful about becoming an average Guardian for the colony. Raphael could find someone else. But, the archangel had asked Jett. That trust meant too much to turn away from. Besides, the empath in Jett wouldn’t be able to tolerate such a thing. He hadn’t been able to walk away during the long, harsh winter. He certainly wasn’t leaving now, in any form.
But Lexine…
He could feel her warm skin, her breath on his neck, and the contentment of sitting across from her over a plate of food. Such simple things, but nevertheless, he’d been changed by them. The sense of companionship and closeness was unlike anything he’d ever known. On a deep level, he knew that not every female could touch him so.
Lark said Jett didn’t need to jump to a decision. Months of training remained before he had to decide to take the oath or not.
That left time to get to know Lexine better, make sure he wasn’t misreading what was growing between them.
With this much on the line, he had to be damned certain. And so did she.
Chapter Seventeen
Staring at herself in the new bathroom mirror, Lexine said, “You know he’s not going to have time for you. Why are you getting attached?”
After dressing and braiding her hair, she headed for the graveyard. With autumn making itself at home, it was time to cut back the spent flowerbeds. She needed to stay busy, not think about Jett, not sit around and consider how much their intimate encounter two weeks ago had affected her. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.
She worked well into the afternoon, doing more than was needed, even digging a new flowerbed near the gate to plant in the spring.
Distraction? Who had she been kidding? Jett’s hands might as well have never left her body. She kept reliving the kisses. The touches.
“Hello, beauty.” His tone when he’d greeted her, returning with food, had turned those two simple, unoriginal words into her complete undoing.
She’d been on the edge as it was. Though the act had been simple, a virgin had made love to her with more intensity and focus than any of her previous partners. At the time, with those demons, she’d had no cause to complain. Compared to Jett, it was as if those demons hadn’t even been looking at her while they’d been dating her.
Her phone chirped, her ringtone set to singing birds, and a welcome name graced the screen. “Hey there.”
“Hey. Feel like being bad?” Fatigue dulled Ginger’s voice.
“Define, ‘bad.’”
“Painting our nails in the garden while I let my mate fend for himself with twins for a couple hours?”
Lexine laughed. Nail painting? She was no tomboy, but she hadn’t painted her nails in a decade. “Sure.”
After stopping to rinse off the dirt and change into simple cotton pants and a tank top, Lexine wandered into the garden behind the archangel house. Ginger sat on the patio adjacent to the building, staring into the goldfish pond.
“Needed a break?” Lexine settled at her friend’s side. “Everything’s okay, right?”
“Oh, everything’s fine.” Ginger smiled. “The twins are out cold, I wanted some sun, and I haven’t seen you much lately. Besides, this might be the last truly warm day of summer. It’s supposed to pour for the next week.”
Lexine perused shades of nail polish in a small basket as they chatted.
“I took these pictures earlier.” Ginger handed over her cell phone.
Baby pictures never got old, and Lexine flipped through the latest with one hand while absently mixing the polish with the other. In one, the twins slept in the double bassinet at the foot of the bed, and Wren lay facedown on the mattress with mussed hair and closed eyes, his wing fanned out, partially hiding the infants. In another picture, a close-up of the twins, they lay on their father’s outstretched wing.
“Nothing gets them to sleep faster,” Ginger said. “Makes me insanely jealous.” She took the phone back, a slow smile forming. “So, how are things going with Jett?”
Lexine paused and gazed at their surroundings. “Is he here?”
“Somewhere. He’s training with Lark, as far as I know. They don’t go far.”
“Any chance of eavesdropping?”
“No. I wouldn’t be able to stand being watched over so closely if we didn’t have our privacy.” She winked. “Just don’t raise your voice too loud.”
“Things are…great. I like him. But, I don’t see him all that much. Naturally.”
“Mmm.”
“No man is perfect, but I don’t see how this is going to work.”
“Do you want it to work?”
Lexine stared at the little bottle of red polish as if it held all the answers. “More so every time I see him.”
Ginger spread pink polish on her toenails, grinning. “Wonderful!”
“Has Lark ever dated?”
“There was someone, a century ago. I don’t know any details, though.”
“Didn’t work out, obviously.”
“This doom-and-gloom mood isn’t like you.”
“Sorry. It’s just that Jett’s job is going to be his life, and I’m trying to keep myself from falling for him too hard. It’ll hurt less later.”
“Good luck with that. You can’t will yourself to or not to fall for someone. But, you’re right. You’re not walking into domesticville.”
“Do you think it’s even possible that the two of us…?”
“Always.” Ginger capped the nail polish and held her gaze with a grin.
Lexine blew out a heavy sigh.
“Maybe things will be different with the two of them as partners.” Ginger leaned back on her elbows. “Maybe they’ll trade off and each get more time for themselves.”
“Just how much time does Lark take for himself now?”
“Pretty much zip. He sleeps, he eats, bathes and exercises, all as efficiently as possible. The only time I’ve seen him do anything else besides stand guard is when he comes into the house. Raphael invites him in frequently. Trouble, the two of them. They almost burned the house down a month ago trying to fry fish.”
Lexine laughed. “I can’t imagine that.”
“Lark is stoic in public, and not just because he has to be constantly on alert. If he wasn’t what he is, I think he’d be shy. Watching him and Raphael pass an evening together, it’s easy to see that they’re friends, and that theirs is a friendship hard-won over decades. Devin says he can’t get Lark to so much as crack a smile.”
“But, there was a girl, once?”
“Yes. I only know that much because, trying to break through his shell myself, I asked him these sorts of questions. But, the expression on his face… I’ve only seen it once before, when he woke up for the first time after being returned to his own body last year and explained Kora’s death. Whatever happened, it still causes him pain to this day. I let the subject drop.”
A shadow passed over them. Raphael flew in and landed on the flight deck overhead. Though she’d seen the archangels out around the colony every day since their return nearly a year ago, she still watched, fascinated, as Raphael stretched that twenty-foot expanse of pure white and folded his wings back.
Ginger called out.
Raphael glanced down. He stepped off the edge and swept his wings out, parachuting to the patio with only a couple of circular wing beats to slow his descent. He landed as if he weighed nothing at all.
Lexine clasped her hands between her knees. Though she’d known the archangel when she was a little girl, she’d only come face-to-face with Raphael a couple times since he’d returned from imprisonment. Hundreds of years old and possessing the silver eyes of one of the original fallen, he never failed to leave her at loss for words. Wren, Ging
er, herself… they were all earthborn, their lives an open book. But, Raphael…just what sort of creature was he, really? What life had he led before he came to earth?
She could never shake the sense that if he’d wanted to crack the earth in half, he probably would’ve been powerful enough to do so. Even Cinnamon, one of the original fallen demons, didn’t put off as strong a vibe.
Whatever he’d been, she reminded herself, he was flesh and blood now, like everyone else in the colony. She stood. “Hi.”
“Hello, Lexine.”
Ginger got to her feet and faced her father-in-law. “Is Jett’s training still going well?”
“Quite. Something on your mind?”
“I’m curious how this will work. Will they both be on twenty-four-hour duty?”
He shifted his wings as if one of them caused him pain. “Yes.”
Lexine’s heart sank.
“The idea,” Raphael continued, “is to have security that can’t be provided by one individual, no matter how skilled. It’s a problem, for example, when you and Wren go into the colony, and I’m here at the house, or vice versa. Lark can’t be in two places at once. As the twins get older, it will get even more complicated.”
“I always have Guardians with me,” Ginger said.
“Yes, and as much as I appreciate their help, what they offer is not the same as a dedicated Guardian. If the colony were attacked while you were with them, they would be obligated to protect you and everyone else in harm’s way. Lark or Jett would be concerned with you and only you. I’m not comfortable with anything less.” Raphael turned his gaze to Lexine. “I think I know what this question’s really about.”
“I…”
“You’d be good for Jett. Especially after all he’s been through.”
Her face heated.
“But I don’t think he’d be good for you. Not if he goes through with this.”
“There’s no way we could make it work?”
“The schedule could be tweaked, though not as much as most females would be able to live with. That’s not the biggest issue. Like I just said, in an emergency, his concern will be this family. Bar none.”
The weight of that settled on her shoulders. “Even me.”
“Exactly.”
She took in Raphael’s haunted expression and guessed, “That’s what happened to Lark.”
“Yes.” He flicked his wings. “Lark had to make a terrible choice, once. He made the decision expected of a dedicated Guardian. Now, I think Jett would be very happy with you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. But I don’t want to ever see him in the situation Lark had to face.”
“Neither do I,” Lexine said.
Raphael explained what had happened to Caza, a female Lark had loved. Lexine absorbed the information in silence, but found it difficult not to protest. She wasn’t Caza. This situation was different. When the archangel finished, she said, “It doesn’t have to be this way. An idea took form in her head. “What if you helped me?”
“Helped you how?”
“Rumor has it you’re very good at hand-to-hand fighting. I would never let fear get in the way of my own survival, and if I was a good fighter, Jett wouldn’t need to leave me to the wolves. There’s no reason I can’t take care of myself.”
“This means that much too you?”
“Yes. I dare you to prove me wrong.”
“Please?” Ginger spoke up. “I think it’s a great idea. Why give up when this is an option?”
He stared them for a moment, apparently lost in thought. “Okay, Lexine. While he’s training, you’ll meet me here. It’ll be our secret for now.”
“Thank you, Raphael.”
…
Lexine pressed apples all night, enjoying the exercise and delicious scents. Some of the cider she sealed into large mason jars and refrigerated to pass out at the market. Most she added to barrels for wine. Several barrels of straight up apple wine. Several with spices. By the time the sun rose, her whole body felt like the mashed remains of the fruit.
Time for a swim. She needed to be ready for the training to come. There’d be no point if Raphael went easy on her.
She changed and made her way through the morning quiet of the colony until she reached the lake. She dove in, the cold water drawing a scream from her throat as she returned to the surface. A V of Canadian geese flew overhead, headed south, only to scatter as an archangel shot right at them. She laughed.
The archangel flew low enough that she could make out the black markings on his wings. Wren tipped sideways, a familiar greeting, and flew higher until he disappeared into the clouds beyond the lake.
Floating on her back, she relaxed, letting the water support weary body.
“Hey, Lex.”
She maneuvered herself upright in the water and followed the sound of Jett’s voice. He stood on the shore, leaning against a tree.
“What are you doing?” he called out.
“Swimming, of course.”
“Why?”
“It’s fun.”
He made a face.
She swam to the shore but stayed in the water. “All demon kids are taught to swim before they grow old enough to spark fire and develop a dislike of water. I loved swimming lessons, and I never outgrew finding enjoyment in the water.”
Jett made a dramatic show of cringing.
She laughed. Such a rare sight to see him act silly. “They let you off again so soon?”
“Yes and no. Remember I said I meant to take you with me to my father’s office?”
She nodded, pushed her wet hair back from her face, and draped her arms over a rock near where Jett stood.
“The trip is both personal and business.” He knelt and touched her cheek, his fingers hot after the cold water. “As part of my training, I need to read the material Dante put together for Guardians in training. Lark insisted I not put it off any longer and sent me on my way. I also look forward to seeing my father’s space and getting to know him a little bit. Are you still willing to accompany me?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll have a lot of reading to do. I don’t want to bore you, but your presence would mean a lot to me.”
“I’m sure I’ll also be able to find something to read. I spent all night pressing apples and am exhausted, so this sounds perfect.”
“Thank you.”
She climbed out of the lake, the tank top and shorts she’d worn plastered to her skin. Jett whistled.
“I need to change first.”
“Hmm.” He folded his arms, his gaze blazing a hot trail down to her feet and back up. “We tried this yesterday and never made it to the town hall.”
“Are you going to behave this time?” she teased, looking up at him from under her lashes.
“Doubtful.”
“Well then, how about I go change, you get us some food, and we meet at the town hall?”
“We have a plan. See you then.”
Chapter Eighteen
After eating breakfast on the lawn, Jett climbed the town hall’s central staircase and let Lexine guide him down the hallway to the right. At the end of the short walkway, the hall opened into an atrium—a compact but striking space with a glass ceiling and exterior wall. Only a few plants filled the space, but one was a tree, situated in the center of the room. Among the thick, green foliage, splashes of orange caught Jett’s eye. “An orange tree?”
“Yes. Do you remember it?”
“No. Should I?”
She bit her lip.
He stared at the tree for a moment longer and rubbed a leaf between his fingers. No memories came to him, but, “For some reason, I’m relieved to see it. It must be difficult to keep a tropical tree alive so far north, even inside.”
“There is a special light used in the winter.”
Footsteps sounded in the hall, and a moment later, a Guardian appeared. He nodded in silent greeting, crossed the atrium, and entered a series of codes into a panel to unlock a set of double doors.
After propping the doors open, he retreated without a word.
“After you.” Lexine lingered by the tree.
Jett stepped to the threshold. The scent of leather and old books wafted from the room. Thick curtains covered the windows, but Jett’s eyes adjusted to the dim light in a second. He lit the demon fire lantern on his left for Lexine’s benefit.
“Have you ever been in here?”
She joined him and brushed his shoulder. “No.”
Jett stepped further into the room. Like with the tree, no memories came, but a heady sense of belonging did. The scent. So familiar. “I know this room. I must have spent a lot of time here.”
He approached the desk, the dark surface covered with neatly arranged odds and ends. Beyond, books and journals lined floor-to-ceiling shelves. “I was old enough to remember. Why don’t I?” He lifted a leather journal from the center of the desk and smoothed his hand over the cover. “Lawrence spent a lot of time with me the first few years, teaching me about the ‘evils’ of demons. His words made no sense to me, and I kept trying to correct him. He punished me for that. Over time, he convinced me the life I thought I remembered was only a dream, and like dreams, the memories faded. It was when I killed the lab assistant that I finally broke and the memories vanished entirely, leaving me with only Lawrence’s version of the truth.”
“Lawrence didn’t break you. You wouldn’t be here now if he had.” She encircled her arms around him from behind and a soft, feminine body pressed against his back. He turned his head and kissed her.
“Go on,” she said, a solemn curve to her lips. She stepped away, gazing out the window.
He sat in one of the room’s thick leather chairs and opened the journal. Plain, neat script filled the pages, but Jett stopped at the first words.
Today, my son, Juneau, was born.
Lawrence’s brainwashing had gone far enough to erase his name? Elbow on his knee, Jett rested his face in his hand. But as he sat there, his body processing dry, soundless sobs, a memory from the lab surfaced.
Lawrence hadn’t renamed him. The human never called him anything at all, except for “the demon” or “the subject” or, when he was angry, “boy.”
