Oriel

by Alisa Woods

  “Absolutely.” The flush of excitement on Lizza’s face surged more Envy.

  Oriel stepped aside to allow Daxon the seat he’d just risen from. “I’ll be outside if you need me,” he said quickly to Lizza, but her attention was captured by her eager patron. Which was to be expected—entirely unexpected was the growing ache of Envy in his chest as he quickly strode away.

  Tajael was right where Oriel left him, just outside the etched-glass doors of The Point, only now busy on his phone.

  Tajael pocketed it and looked up. “Daxon find Lizza? He was asking after her.”

  “Yes.” Oriel worked to calm the tight feeling in his body. How could he be envious? Except he knew the answer—for he had felt the brilliance of her gaze when it was focused on him. What’s more, he knew now the darkness that shadowed her soul. “But I’ve discovered something that… Tajael, I need your advice on a matter.” He wasn’t sure he wanted advice—for he knew the answer he wanted Tajael to give. Yet, it seemed better to ask in this way.

  “Of course.” Tajael’s sharp ability to read faces was now trained on him. Could he see Oriel’s intent written there? Probably.

  “There’s something broken in Lizza’s soul,” he said plainly. “Surely, you’ve noticed.”

  “I have,” Tajael said cautiously. “Although, I’ll say I’m impressed. She seems not handicapped by it.”

  “No, that’s not right,” Oriel said, the fervor rising. “It drives her. She has a singular passion because of it. But she’s broken, nevertheless.”

  Tajael nodded, slowly, eyes pinched. “I mentioned it to Charlotte. She had much to say about it, actually. Lizza lost her parents, and apparently, her father was a physicist. It animates her work.”

  Oriel nodded. “She wishes to fulfill their dreams for her.”

  “A noble thing.”

  “But…” Oriel struggled, for he would not betray her confidence. He swore it. “She’s willing to give up everything for it.”

  “More noble still.”

  Oriel ground his teeth, frustrated. “I could give her a life kiss. It would heal what’s broken inside her.” There—he’d said it aloud.

  Tajael’s eyebrows had lifted high. “That’s… not advisable.”

  Oriel ran a hand through his hair and paced away from his friend. Of course, it was not advisable. Life kisses were blessings bestowed on humans in need—usually dire need, verging on death. Or demon-healing. And they were, well, passionate affairs, lacking a better word. Done for the right reasons, they were a source of righteous pleasure. But even then, there was a danger of being consumed by that pleasure.

  Oriel turned back to Tajael and held out his hands in supplication to his fellow angeling. “There is nothing specifically to prohibit it.”

  “That does not make it wise.” Tajael was eyeing him with concern now.

  “Is it wise to stand by and let a broken soul do something… unwise?” He was skirting the issue. How to press upon Tajael the danger without betraying Lizza’s confidence?

  Tajael frowned. “She is fine, Oriel. She’s doing her work. When I discussed it with Charlotte, she said she understood what it felt like to have a soul that was broken. This was before I met her. She healed herself, Oriel. And that is not an unknown thing. I’ve heard tell of other Guardians who’ve observed it happen. Without a life kiss intervention, mind you.”

  “Yes, but this wound is long-standing,” Oriel protested. “If she were to heal herself, surely it would have already happened. On the other hand, I could—”

  “You could what?” Tajael cut him off, severely. “Bestow a life kiss upon her and make her shine even brighter than she is now? Because that won’t be alluring at all.”

  Oriel scowled at him. “You are concerned I will Fall.”

  “I am concerned that you are not concerned.” Tajael’s expression had taken even more gravity.

  “Of course, I’m concerned!” But Tajael was strangely accurate in that—Oriel was far more worried about the state of Lizza’s soul than his own. Which, at the moment, seemed entirely logical, even though he knew that his Fall would be dire not only for him but for all of Markos’s tightly-stretched forces. He grimaced. “So, you do not think it is wise?”

  “Not only for you but for her,” Tajael said gently. “You said it yourself. This darkness animates her. It informs her work. Perhaps the work itself will be what heals her. You cannot know, Oriel, and your job here is to keep her safe… not transform her life.”

  But I wish to do both! Oriel knew that was not the correct answer, so he kept that thought locked inside. But it lurked there, a dangerous mix of Lust and the righteous desire to heal.

  “You are right, of course,” Oriel said, ducking his head, hoping Tajael wouldn’t see the deceit on his face. Not that he planned to act on his desires, but his full-blooming struggle was his own shame. One he didn’t need to share.

  He was Protector Class, Chastity Faction… and now Guardian in the middle of an immortal war. He would struggle with this, and he would overcome it.

  And at all costs, he would do his duty… and nothing more.

  No matter how tempting.

  Chapter Three

  Lizza’s tote was packed with insanely cool, highly-complex science papers.

  But the hot security guy sitting in the sedan next to her was the bigger puzzle. He was a study in contrasts. Super sexy but seemed oblivious to that fact. Awkward like he’d just landed on Planet Earth, yet so deeply considerate, she felt like a bumbling buffoon next to him. She’d never met a guy who inspired her to be a better person just with his presence. And while he was intensely attentive at all times, at the moment, she couldn’t seem to catch his eye to save her soul. His gaze was locked out the window, scanning the street and the freaking air like he thought the terrorists might parachute in to attack her.

  Who was Oriel, really?

  And why did her stomach have to flutter every time he looked at her with those soft brown eyes? She had work to do—insane amounts of ground-breaking work—and this was possibly the least-good time in her entire life to meet a guy that might test her willpower in the No Dating Rule. Not that she didn’t like guys, but after her parents died, she just threw herself into her schoolwork. There was no time for dating. And that soon solidified into a habit that carried through college. And graduate school. Except for the occasional grope or sloppy kiss forced on her, she’d never even touched a guy. No hot dates with hot kisses at the end, much less anything more than that. And she was perfectly fine with that…

  Until this guy showed up.

  Dang it.

  Oriel swung his gaze back into the car for a moment, then he startled when he found her staring at him. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  No. Obviously. She was staring at him like a love-sick teenager. “Great!” she said.

  He frowned.

  That was the other thing—she couldn’t put anything past him, even with him apparently being more naïve than a first-week freshman. And the earnest look he was giving her right now was the same that wormed out her secret—that she wanted to be the first human traveler. What on earth? It was like he had superhuman persuasive powers disguised as sexy brown eyes.

  She bit her lip, trying to come up with something to fill the awkward silence, but then he just ducked his head and went back to staring out the window.

  Lizza sighed. The car ride was short, but it already felt a million miles long. And what would she do when they got to the apartment? Just bustle him out again? Seemed rude. Then again, maybe her desire to have him stay had nothing to do with politeness.

  “When we get to your apartment,” he said, seemingly reading her mind while still looking out the window, “you should make sure you eat. The kitchen is well stocked.”

  “Would you like to join me for dinner?” she blurted out. What?

  He whipped his gaze back to hers. “I don’t… that’s not necessary.” As if she were doing him a tremendous favor by inviting him t
o have frozen dinners with her.

  “I just figured, you have to eat sometime…”

  “I ate before we left the office.” He seemed flustered.

  She was embarrassing him. An icy feeling trickled through her. “Right. Of course.” Was he lying to her? He had to be lying. Unless he ordered a sandwich before they left. She’d worked late, so she figured he’d just missed out…

  He turned back to the window.

  As she fought for something to say, the car suddenly hit a monster pothole. The whole thing bounced. She gripped the seat in front to keep from banging her head. Oriel’s arm slammed her back into the seat.

  “Hey—”

  The car hit another pothole—only this time the roof dented in. What in the—

  “Move!” Oriel shouted at the driver.

  The car swerved, and Oriel jerked her seatbelt straight out of the seat. What? Then he shoved aside her tote and pushed her down. She was practically folded in half, his weight pressing her into the seat and the side of the car.

  “Oriel, you’re—”

  A screeching of metal cut her off—then the door disappeared.

  She shrieked, suddenly falling out of the car. Oriel’s iron grip yanked her back, but something was pulling her out by the arm. The rough pavement was traveling a million miles an hour beneath her, just a foot away. “Oriel!” she screamed, but he was preoccupied with thrashing around inside the car. She twisted to see what had caught hold of her outside—

  A scream died in her throat.

  A horrible man with teeth sharpened to points had her arm in both hands. He snarled as she gaped at him, his black wings beating the air behind him, keeping pace with the speeding car.

  Black. Wings.

  Oriel’s grip loosened on her, and she slid further out of the car. The scream trapped in her chest escaped, but the wind took it. Oriel thrashed more, jerking his hold on her—he was going to lose his grip! Then something flew past her face. Another screech, but not hers. She blinked away the wind-cranked tears. The black-winged creature had a knife sticking out of his chest! He yanked it free but then lost his grip on her and tumbled in the air… Oriel jerked her back inside the car, into his arms…

  And then suddenly, they were huddled on the floor outside her apartment door.

  “Wha—?” Her mouth wasn’t working.

  Oriel was cursing in some language she didn’t understand. He sprang up and waved his hand at the door, some furious motion, like he was cursing it with his fist as well as his words. Then he stopped, dug out a key, and jammed it into the lock, twisting it open.

  He came back for her, scooping her off the floor like she weighed nothing and hauling her inside. But then he just set her down again and went back to the door, slamming it shut and cursing at it, shaking his fist again. When he was done with that, he turned the deadbolt lock closed.

  She just stared at the whole spectacle with her mouth hanging open.

  Slowly, he turned to face her, eyes blazing. Blood dripped down his face from a cut over his eye. An inky black tendril seemed to snake down his cheek. His chest was heaving, and they stood there, staring at each other as if neither one knew what to do next.

  Air sucked into her chest in one long, shuddering gasp. She must have forgotten to breathe. No reason. Just the freaking black-wing-nightmare attack.

  “What. Just. Happened.” The words were dead coming out of her mouth—she could barely get her brain to work.

  “Are you all right?” He kneeled quickly in front of her, looking her over with a frantic panic that had been absent before.

  She touched his face. “You’re bleeding.” There was something worse wrong with him—the inky black stain that ran under his skin. Some kind of infection—

  He jerked away from her touch. “Can you stand?” he asked, roughly.

  She had no idea.

  He lifted her up before she could even try, gently setting her on her feet… but her knees buckled. She gripped his arms harder and leaned into him, her head swimming. It seemed like the room was tilting.

  “The couch, then.” He picked her up, bridal-style, and carried her there. Then he kneeled in front of the couch on one knee, peering up at her, frantically scanning her face again. His gaze dropped to her arm, which was scratched from the whole tug-of-war-with-Lizza that had happened in the car. “Did he hurt you?” Oriel ran his hands over the scratches.

  They disappeared as she watched.

  That wasn’t possible. None of this was possible.

  She gripped his arms to stop him. “How did you… We were in the car, and then we…” She looked at the locked door. “Oriel.” Tears were rushing to her face. “Explain this to me!”

  The torment on Oriel’s face told her before he said a thing… it was real. All of it. Impossible but real.

  She studied physics for a living. Her whole body of work was about trying to explain impossible things. Quantum effects in biological systems. Quantum biology wasn’t even a field until recently. But things that seemed simple got a lot more complicated when you dove in and tried to explain them… then everyday logic often went out the window in a haze of strange particle behaviors and unexpected phenomena.

  But this. This was something different.

  Oriel tried to move away, but she tightened her grip on him. He stopped and gave her a helpless look. “You weren’t supposed to know,” he said. “About any of this. But now…” He dropped his gaze to her hands clamped hard on his arms. His head tilted to the side, and his expression turned anguished. “Please release me.”

  She blinked… then pulled back, balling up her hands and pressing them to her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to think through the low blood pressure or shock or whatever was making her brain feel like it had been put through a blender. When she opened her eyes, Oriel had come up on the couch, concern once again etched on his face.

  “I was praying they wouldn’t attack again,” he said, carefully.

  Attack. Yes, they could start there. But she needed an explanation for how they left her car and landed outside her apartment… in a fraction of a second. She honestly couldn’t say how long—it was a blur along with everything else.

  “That creature who attacked me,” she said slowly. “It’s attacked before.”

  He sighed and scrubbed his hand through his hair. “It’s substantially more complicated than that.”

  She nodded. “Of course. Tell me. All of it.” Her eyes had gone so wide, they ached.

  Something buzzed, and Oriel fumbled for his pocket. He pulled out his phone and glared at the caller. She could see it was Tajael.

  Oriel stood and swiped it to answer, listening first. “Yes, I have her.” He looked to her with a frown. “No, she’s fine.” He paced away, running a hand through his hair again. “No, I’m not bringing down the wards for that. Just keep it. Yes. Okay. Understood.”

  He swiped the phone off.

  Her mind was whirling and putting pieces together like it was coming back from a hard reboot, and her logic circuits were just coming back online. “You and Tajael,” she said, pointing a finger at him, demanding an explanation. “You’re both… different. You have some… some… special abilities.” She was blinking fast. Hotness was not a super-power—or maybe it was. She didn’t know, but her scientist’s brain said two uber-hot guys, both in security, when the rest of the security forces were just ordinary… humans. Her eyes went wide. “You’re not human.” She met his gaze. His eyebrows hiked up, but he didn’t deny it.

  Holy crap.

  Oriel eased down to the couch and perched on the end, sitting on the arm with his military-style boots on the cushions. “No. We’re not.” He was watching her reaction to this.

  She was kind of proud that she wasn’t losing her mind. Or maybe she already had, and this was all some weird fantasy. But if she were going to have a fantasy about Oriel, it would definitely not be with him fully clothed and perched like a bird at the end of her couch.

  “O
kay.” She swallowed. “Guy with wings. Super strength. Tearing the door off my car. Pointy teeth. After me. I’m going to say… he’s the bad guy. That means you and Tajael are the good guys. But you don’t have pointy teeth or…” She faded off at the guilty look he was giving her. “What?”

  “I’m an angeling,” he said, gaze steady. “Half angel. Half human. Like the one who attacked you only… I’m an angeling of the light.”

  “Of the light. Right.” Angeling. As in angels. As in heaven and God and… holy crap. Her mouth had run dry. She was already backed up to her end of the couch, opposite from Oriel, but she still leaned slightly away. “Only you lost your wings. Or something. Did that… hurt?”

  He huffed a small laugh and smiled. Holy hotness… Weren’t angels supposed to be unnaturally beautiful? It made perfect sense. Totally crazy, but there was a certain logic there.

  “I still have my wings,” Oriel said, his smile taming. “Would you like to see them?”

  Her face scrunched up. This was not a sane conversation. “Um… yes?”

  A fraction of a second later, Oriel’s black body armor had disappeared, and he was basically naked on her couch. Well, not quite—he was draped in a white toga—but holy crap… wings that glistened snowy white had sprung from his back, each at least twice as wide as he was tall.

  She jolted backward and covered her mouth with both hands. “Holy shit! You are kidding me!”

  He grinned but seemed to fight it. “You’re taking this extraordinarily well.”

  She wasn’t. Agitation was a live wire inside her. She scrambled up to standing, gripping the edge of the couch to keep upright and staring at the wings that filled her living room.

  Angel wings. “Can you fly? Are they real or just… I don’t even know what to call it.”

  “Magic?” He smiled and came down from his perch. Her eyes went even wider as he stepped towards her, sweeping his wings forward until the tips were just within her reach.