Dark Angel's Ward

by Nia Shay

  "The difference is, Zeph is the direct offspring of an angel. We Wardens are believed to be distant descendants of an original pairing. The shared DNA makes us able to do our jobs. My abilities are a perfect foil to his, so I can--I used to--keep him in check enough to function safely among humans."

  "You never explained what he can do," Sara pointed out. "Why did he make us go all crazy before?"

  I waited for him to answer that one on his own behalf, but he just sat there looking mystical. Sighing, I continued. "Well, he can't exactly help it, especially since no one's been taking care of him. His azoth, mojo, whatever you want to call it, is by nature far more intense than a human's. At the same time, dark angels have no emotions of their own, so...."

  "I have some emotions," he cut in, frowning.

  "No emotions," I repeated firmly, "except those they mirror from the people around them. And they can amplify those emotions with their very presence, sometimes to the point that they do permanent damage to people's minds.

  "This is where the conflict arises with the Biblical concept, which says Watchers were sent to teach mankind the skills God wanted them to learn. According to their own history, they were sent to keep the peace on Earth. Which fits pretty well with what we know of them, really." I held up a hand, ticking off points on my fingers. "By being emotionless, they were able to maintain impartiality. By being empathic, they were able to tell truth from lies. And by being powerful, they were able to enforce justice absolutely."

  "Makes sense." Cara cocked her head at a curious angle. "But in the Bible, weren't the Watchers the angels themselves? The ones who went bad?"

  I shrugged. "Like I said, the two stories conflict in a lot of places. Since the modern-day Watchers don't remember much of their origins, the Biblical theory is the accepted one."

  "You mean you don't remember where you came from?" Cara frowned at Zeph. "Damn, how old are you?"

  Sara gaped at her sister. "Jeez, don't be tactful or anything!"

  "It's all right," he said. "She didn't offend me."

  "He can't be offended," I muttered. "And no one's sure how old they are. The ones alive today were pretty much undocumented before ancient Greek times. Since their history is oral, a lot of it's been lost over the centuries. But it's assumed they inspired some of the mythology from the Greek and Roman periods. Zeph may have lent his name to the Greek god Zephyrus, for example."

  "Whoa!" Cara crowed. "So you were around in ancient Greece?"

  He smiled thinly. "So I've been told."

  "You don't remember?"

  "No."

  I thought back to the buildings I'd seen in his memories. "I'd believe it." I was no archaeologist, but I knew ancient when I saw it. "The Society thinks they may have been the truth behind the story of the sirens, as well."

  "What?" Sara raised an eyebrow at me. "I thought the sirens were female."

  I snickered in spite of myself. "Well, if you were a man, and another man drew you to lust after him with nothing more than the sound of his voice, you'd probably change the story too." I cut a quick glare at her. "That's why I told you to turn off the music, by the way. If he'd started singing, we'd all have been in trouble."

  She blinked. "You told me to turn off the music? When?"

  I shook my head and didn't bother to answer. Fortunately, the CD had ended some time ago. The loudspeaker emitted only a faint electronic crackle.

  "So? Why does his singing affect people?"

  I shrugged. "Depends on who you ask. Those who hold to the party line say theirs is the voice of God, which makes sense if you consider them His earthly instruments. But those who consider them fallen angels, whose primary interest is to steal mortal souls, would tell you their voices are bait."

  "What do you think, Jade?" Cara asked.

  Perceptive little brat. "How should I know? Some are good, some are evil. And everyone is a bit of both, actually. But don't quote me. I've only got a decade's experience, I'm no scholar."

  "Really? So you were with Zeph since you were, what...?"

  "Fourteen years old," he answered for me.

  "And in training since I was eight," I added. "Genetics alone doesn't make you a Warden. You have to learn quite a bit of discipline and control, tolerance for pain, you know. Fun stuff like that."

  "Does it hurt? When you, um, take care of him?" Cara giggled as if she'd just gotten the joke.

  "It's kind of like having a live wire pressed to your spinal cord. You get used to it, though."

  "Shee-yit. So how do you do it?"

  I mused for a moment on how to make the explanation sound logical. "Well, I take his excess energy into myself, and in the process my emotions sort of rub off onto him. It makes him, for lack of a better term, more normal. Afterward he can be around humans without driving them crazy, at least until the effect fades."

  "At which point I will be lost again." A trace of wistfulness softened his voice.

  I rolled my eyes at the tone. "I'm sure you'll figure something out."

  "Well, you can just help him again." Cara paused, frowning at the look on my face. "Right?"

  "Hell, no. He's not my problem anymore. Besides, did it look like I'm very fond of him?"

  "Well, you obviously have some sort of strong feelings."

  I scoffed. "Thanks for the analysis, Dr. Phil. That doesn't mean I owe him a damn thing besides a trip out of this building."

  Zeph turned dark eyes on me. "You've already done more for me than you said you intended."

  "What does that mean?" Sara asked.

  He didn't answer, but I knew what he meant. He was completely calm, his control over his borrowed emotions solid. I hadn't just taken the edge off his misery like I'd planned. I'd done my job, as thoroughly as if it still were my job. I shrugged, eyeing him. "What can I say? I have a strong sense of perversity."

  Cara grinned, clearly believing she'd read something between the lines. "See, boss? You do care."

  "Oh yeah?" I scowled at her. "Remind me to tell you sometime what happens when good angels go bad."

  "Zeph isn't bad."

  "And you're basing this sound judgment on, what, twenty minutes of acquaintance? Half of which you spent acting crazy as a loon?"

  "Yes," she replied without hesitation.

  "You have no idea what you're talking about. And we're wasting time." I got to my feet, but paused. "Hey, are you two still on the clock?" They nodded. "Good. 'Cause if I'm going to get him out of here without drawing too much attention, we'll need all the cover we can get." I gestured to the makeup case. "You know what to do."

  He gazed up at me from the floor. "Pardon?"

  "Goth him up, girls."

  Grinning, the twins seized him, one on each arm, and led him to the stool behind the register. I turned my back as they went to work, pacing in front of the exit and resisting the urge to punch the steel grate.

  Four

  As we made our way out the building in a tight huddle, I glanced back at Zeph and began to regret my instructions. The girls had somehow made him even more striking than usual. Sara, makeup artist extraordinaire, had accented his already pale complexion with strategic shadows of pale blue, highlighting the contours of his bone structure. Then she'd outlined his eyes in black kohl, Egyptian style. A single painted teardrop slid down his left cheek to rest at the corner of his wine-tinted lips. He looked as beautiful and tragic as she no doubt perceived him to be.

  Cara, not to be outdone by her sister, had covered his plain black tee shirt with a silk poet's chemise. The sleeves weren't quite long enough, but given the style, it didn't matter. She'd also smeared his hair with glittery gel and pulled it out into chunky spikes, messily arranged across his forehead. Towering height aside, it couldn't be said he didn't fit in perfectly with the rest of us. We drew looks from the other mall employees as we emerged into the parking lot, but they were the type of looks I'd grown used to.

  "Well, well, if it isn't the Freaks-and-Geeks Variety Hour." A lanky young man lounge
d against the side of the twins' Jeep, leering as we approached. He lifted a suggestive eyebrow and added, "Hey, Sara."

  "Um...hi, Kevin." Inexplicably, Sara's cheeks colored.

  Kevin, presumably of Wiener Works, frowned at Zeph. "Got a new boyfriend already, baby?"

  "Nah. Just an emergency makeover." She laughed shrilly, clutching Zeph's arm like a lifeline. "How did we do?"

  Kevin sneered, but didn't get a chance to answer. Cara had advanced on him with her keys laced through her fingers like metal claws. "Get. Off. My. Car."

  "I wasn't talking to you, Ice Princess."

  "Excuse me," I cut in, "but who the hell are you, little man?"

  "He's dead meat," Cara snarled.

  I caught her by the shoulders. "Sorry, kiddo. If I can't kill people in public, neither can you."

  Kevin stepped forward, leaning into Cara's face. "Listen, bitch...."

  "Enough." Zeph slid between the bristling teens, meeting Kevin's gaze significantly. "Leave us."

  His voice echoed eerily in the open air. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end at the familiar sound, jarring even though it hadn't been directed at me. For an instant, the world seemed to pause. The harsh yellow glow from the streetlights was suddenly too bright, the night air thick and hard to breathe.

  In the next moment, everything went back to normal--except Kevin. The young man's eyes had gone wide and, mumbling, he shuffled away to his own car.

  The twins circled Zeph, mouths agape. "That was far beyond cool," Cara whispered.

  "Bad boyfriend bane." Sara sighed. "I so want one of these guys for myself."

  "No, honey, you don't." I grabbed her arm and propelled her toward the Jeep. "Get in, both of you, and get the hell home. Give me a call if you have any trouble, all right?"

  Cara rolled her eyes. "Lighten up, boss. I could've kicked his ass even if Zeph hadn't stepped in. Thanks, by the way." She flashed him a smile and, before I could tell her to stop, popped up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "See you soon?"

  "Jandra's right," he replied in a voice gruff with discomfort. "You should go."

  "Jeez, no wonder you two get along. Both square as hell." She indicted us with a sarcastic headshake. "Catch ya later, taters." She scrambled into the driver's seat and pressed down the door lock with an exaggerated gesture. Sara, grinning, did the same, and the two sped off toward the street.

  When they were out of sight, I glanced over at Zeph. He hadn't moved a muscle since Cara had touched him. "You didn't have to do that," I told him.

  He turned at the sound of my voice, regarding me with eyes so dark and remote that his inhumanity was all too evident. "You should be wary of that boy. He bears them great malice, particularly Cara. It's she that he desired carnally. He only chose to pursue Sara because he found her less intimidating."

  "Thank you, Zeph," I said, genuinely humbled. "But why did you help them?"

  "They're good kids," he replied, and I shuddered at hearing my own sentiments coming out of his mouth, verbatim. He looked off into the darkness, adding, "Besides, you painted them such a pretty picture. Who am I to contradict you?"

  Confused, I searched his painted face before I finally took his meaning. "You're the one who started the Q-and-A session."

  "Still. I had thought you would relish the chance to shame me."

  I shrugged. "Hey, I wasn't doing you any favors. I'd have told them everything if we'd had the time to spare. As you said, they do deserve to be informed." I glanced around the deserted parking lot. "So. How did you get here?"

  "I followed the beating of your heart."

  "No, drama queen. I meant did you walk? Drive?"

  He looked around vaguely. "I don't recall. I suppose I must have come on foot."

  "Wonderful." That could just as easily mean he'd parked a car on the opposite side of the building and promptly forgotten about it. I wasn't about to go looking, though. The damn thing could sit there until it got towed away for all I cared. I drew in a deep breath, looking sideways at him. "Tell me something. How long will it be before you need to feed?"

  "Hard to say."

  "Oh, that's helpful. Thanks."

  "It's only the truth. I can't say for sure." He paused as if considering. "The Society has been providing for me. I'm not starved, but the need is always greater after I've been attended. Hunger will likely come upon me sooner than later."

  "Damn it." Just what I'd been afraid of. "You can't be alone, then. Not if you're having this much trouble with your head."

  He flashed me something akin to a scowl. "I'm sure I'll figure something out."

  I scowled right back, folding my arms across my chest. "I'm trying to do something nice for you, idiot. Don't make me change my mind."

  He rounded on me fully, eyes aglow with inner light. "You mean you'll...?"

  "I'll take you with me until we can get you in touch with the Society," I finished. "I'm sure they can send someone to collect you in the morning. And if there should be any--shall we say, unexpected circumstances--before then, at least nobody will be in any danger."

  His face fell. "You truly intend to forsake me, then."

  "I don't believe I was ever secretive about that fact. Let's go." I gestured to my car, parked some thirty yards away under a light pole. Then I turned and started walking, perfectly aware he wasn't following me.

  It was a beautiful night, the warmth of late summer still clinging stubbornly to the Texas panhandle. The sky above glowed with the light of a nearly full moon, and a brave smattering of stars battled their way through the city glow. It should have been a soothing scene, but with Zeph's gaze on my back, I couldn't manage to enjoy it.

  I didn't look back until I had my fingers on the door handle. "Last chance, Zeph."

  After a long moment, he hung his head and started after me. I slid into the car to start the engine, and pushed the passenger seat back as far as it would go. He wouldn't be very comfortable in my compact Hyundai, but he'd have to make do.

  His presence hit me like a tidal wave as he folded himself into the enclosed space. He was ashamed, that much was painfully obvious, but I also sensed a shadow of fear in his heart. Which brought me around to the other reason I'd chosen to keep him with me.... "So." I glanced over at him as I put the car in gear. "Tell me more about this nightmare you had."

  "Inconsequential."

  I sighed. "You know, you can't really lie to me, either. I think I saw part of the replay in your head when we were joined before." I was hedging my bets here, hoping he'd been just as disoriented by my sudden invasion as I had. "Why don't you just tell me the parts you do remember? I mean, you never used to dream, not unless...."

  "Unless you slept at my side," he finished for me as my voice faltered.

  "Yeah. So you have to admit, it's pretty strange."

  "Indeed." He stared out the window at the passing scenery for a while before continuing. "I remember nothing of the dream itself, only a feeling--a terrible, crushing dread. It made me fear for you."

  "For me? Personally?"

  "Yes."

  "But that makes no sense. We hadn't seen each other in so long." I shook my head, frowning. "You were just identifying with me because it's familiar."

  "Do you think so?"

  "Has to be." He didn't sound very impressed with my theory, but it was the only one I had. "And you've been having these spontaneous emotions ever since?" I guessed.

  "Yes." I felt the weight of his gaze on me even as I watched the road. "At times I've been feeling, as you would put it, 'normal.' It's troubling."

  I snorted. "Most people strive for normalcy."

  "I'm not most people."

  "I know that, believe me." I thought back to the chaotic tangle of his mind and added, "Your azoth was all wonky before, too."

  "Soul," he corrected, frowning.

  "Whatever."

  "And what is 'wonky?'"

  "Unusual. Even for you."

  He sighed heavily at the translation. "Thus I asked you
for your help."

  And didn't it rankle the hell out of me that I was giving it? But to care for him seemed as natural as breathing--I'd been taught to do so practically from the cradle. Even now, I fought the urge to loosen my death grip the steering wheel and reach out to him. He desperately wanted to be touched, reassured.

  "Why are you helping me?" he muttered, though he could read my thoughts as easily as I had his. "It's clear your disdain for me hasn't changed."

  "You want to know why?" I flicked a glance at him and repeated the same half-truth that had sustained me through the past couple of hours. "Because we're dangerous creatures, you and I. What if I had stepped out of the shop before you got there tonight? Would the twins be well and safe right now?"

  "I wouldn't have harmed them."

  "You sure about that?"

  He made an annoyed sound. "And you? Have you hungered in my absence?"

  The words hit me like a slap. "I control it," I replied curtly. "Just like always."

  "And my needs cannot be controlled," he concluded, his tone glum. "They must be sated."

  "Exactly. So you can see why I'm a little leery of leaving you alone with innocents."

  His fingertips played over the back of my hand as I downshifted, making me shiver. "I'm not alone now."

  And I'm not innocent, I thought bitterly. Not anymore.

  I ignored him, focusing on the road as I maneuvered the car through the sleepy suburban streets and into my driveway. The house was obscenely big, considering I lived there alone. Two stories, four bedrooms, two-and-a-half baths, with a formal dining room and a spacious upstairs den. The property had been signed over to me free and clear upon my retirement from warding. Apparently, the Society had assumed I'd move on with my life, settle down, and raise a nice, normal family.

  And who knew, maybe someday I would. But within the presence of the man at my side, it didn't seem very likely.

  "This is your home?" He climbed out of the car, stretching his long limbs gracefully as he straightened up. There was an odd note to his needless question. I took it to mean, So this is where you've been hiding from me?