by Alisa Woods
She kicked off her shoes on the way to the couch, dropping her purse and curling up at the end. She lay her head back against the cushion, and he thought she might just fall asleep right there. But he also knew she must be hungry, so he busied himself in the kitchen, bringing the cheese and salami and cracker snack she liked, along with a cup of coffee that he used magic to brew quickly. He wanted to get her some sustenance before she passed out if only so she might sleep better.
He returned to the couch with his bounty, and his easing onto the cushion next to her—much closer than normal—roused her from her rest. She looked at him with interest, ignoring the food and coffee altogether, and that look was dangerously affecting him, but he stayed the course, holding the plate and mug out on offer. She frowned and dropped her gaze to them. “I’m not really—”
“Lizza.” Her gaze bounced back up to meet his. “If you wither away on my watch, I will have failed in the one thing I’m supposed to do.”
“I thought you were supposed to keep me safe.” But she took a cheese-and-cracker pair and bit into it.
“Guarding a dead person is rather easier.”
She flashed a look up to his eyes, then seeing his smile, one side of her mouth lifted. Better. Perhaps humor would be how to draw her out.
“Have you guarded dead people before?” she asked, a smile growing. “You’ll need a proper control sample for comparison.”
“An excellent point,” he conceded then offered her the mug again. She took it and clasped it with two hands. He set the plate on the table behind the couch. “As soon as I’m done with this assignment, I’ll seek out the cemetery for a proper control group.”
Her smile grew, interrupted only by small puffs of air she blew across her coffee. He was mesmerized by the pursing of her full lips for a moment, then tore his gaze away. But it was too late—her eyes had gone wide, her expression serious.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He frowned. “Sorry for what?”
Her brow furrowed. “Sorry for the…” Her words faded, her eyes luminous and staring into his. “You know what? I’m not sorry.”
“Well, that’s good.” He was thoroughly confused now. “Remorse is only useful in combination with a true Penance. And you’ve hardly committed an offense worthy of Penance.” He teased her with a scowl, but it was Truth—Sin was different for humans than angelings, but she was so drenched in Virtues, they were nearly killing her. Diligence in particular.
Her smile came blazing back, riding a short laugh, and his heart swelled. He had to quash the angelsong that lit in his chest.
“You are so wonderfully strange,” she said.
He playfully scowled again. “I’m not altogether sure that is a compliment.”
“It is.” Her eyes were alight, and it was affecting him again. Deeply. But she needed this from him right now, and angel forces couldn’t pull him from her side.
“Then I will pay you one in return.” He held her gaze as her smile tempered. “You are filled with Virtues, Elizabeth Robinson, but even an angeling would tire at this pace. And there is danger in that… a danger I can’t abide.”
“Because it’s your duty to care for me.” This seemed to disappoint her.
“Because I care for you…” It was suddenly difficult to breathe. But if telling her would make a difference… “Because caring for you passed being a duty long ago.”
She seemed to hold her breath, searching his face.
“But I cannot… that is…” And now he was stumbling again.
He could see it weigh down her shoulders, inch by inch. She dropped her gaze to her coffee, then set it aside on the table next to the plate of nearly untouched crackers.
“Oriel,” she said solemnly without looking at him. She studied her hands clenching her tucked-up knees for a moment. Finally, she looked up and met his gaze. “I’m sorry for flirting with you. I’m sorry for falling into your arms and making jokes and teasing you. Because I know you feel… because I think you do care for me. You’re kind and sweet, and you have this strange duty where you have to keep me alive, and all of that must be hard enough, but then I throw this thing on top where I just flirt and play, and I can’t help it, and I’m sorry.” She said it all in a rush. Then she pulled in a breath and scrunched up her face. “I don’t want you to Fall, Oriel! Charlotte told me what could happen, and I’m so sorry if I’ve made it even worse with my…” She flailed her hands in the air. “My extreme inability to hold it together while I’m failing miserably at my job.”
He looked at her in wonder. “It is not your duty to keep me from Falling into shadow, Lizza.” Did she really think this? It was entirely on him to control himself, no matter the temptation. That was the nature of Sin—it belonged solely to the Sinner. “But you are also not failing at your job. These things take time—”
“Not you, too!” She buried her lovely face in her hands. Then she flung them out. “Charlotte keeps saying that, but it’s not true. I don’t have an infinite bag of tricks like you angelings. I’ve got a few theories, a few ideas, and we’ve tested everything… and it’s just not working! I can’t do this.”
She’s lost heart. This realization struck him like an angel blade to the chest. “That’s not Truth.”
“Yes, it is.” She seemed fraught, tears and anger warring for dominance on her face.
“Lizza, it is not, I promise you.” How could he tell her the Truth in a way she would understand? “There is a darkness that can… that sometimes overwhelms a person…” He was failing at this. Badly. Your soul is broken! he wanted to shout. But he couldn’t simply tell her, for what then? What remedy? Informing her of it would not enable her to fix it. He could repair the damage done, but there was such risk…
“Yeah, well, I feel pretty overwhelmed right now,” Lizza was saying. “I didn’t just destroy that plant. I eviscerated it in a way that… like, literally no one has ever done before. That’s my accomplishment. Destroying life extra-dimensionally. I should just walk away from the whole thing, but then I think… I’ll just do one more run, one more simulation, there’s got to be an answer that I’m just not seeing…” Her breath hitched, and the words were trapped for a moment. Then she let it all out. “I’m not going to make it, Oriel. I’m just not.” And the hollowness in her cheeks was back, the dark circles under her eyes, and he’d never seen someone look so haunted.
He had to do something.
Even if it cost him everything.
He stood quickly before he lost his nerve. “I need to… I have an errand I must run.”
“Okay.” She frowned mightily at that, as well she should. He never left her unattended in the apartment, certainly never in a state like this. He was her sole and last defense inside the wards. But if he were to do this… he needed to warn Tajael. And glean any wisdom from him that he could.
“I’ll return quickly, I promise. I’ll drop the wards and have them up again before anything can happen.” At her still-bewildered look, he pointed to the plate and still-steaming mug. “Before you can finish your food and drink, I’ll return. Call me if you need me before then.” He ignored her wordless confusion and hurried to the wall. He could disable the wards anywhere, as long as he was in close contact—normally, that would be the door, so they could both walk through, but he would leave that closed and locked. He needn’t travel that way, anyway.
In a moment, he had the wards down, had transported out into the hall, and had popped the wards back up again. Then he strode two doors down and banged on Charlotte’s door. There was no response, and her apartment was guarded by wards. Oriel dug into his pocket for his phone. He banged on the door again then swiped open his phone to find Tajael’s number. Just as the first ring went through, muffled cursing came through the door. It banged and clicked—obviously unlocking—so Oriel swiped the phone off.
The door swung partially open. Tajael stood just inside the wards at the threshold, clad in a typical training toga. Which was unusual these days,
given their masquerade as humans. What was less unusual—indeed, to be expected—was that his toga was tented out below the waist with his erection. Tajael’s face was flushed, and his chest was sweaty.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” Oriel cringed. This was not the best time to ask for help—he may never have sex himself, but he knew those who did seldom appreciated an interruption.
“Angels in heaven, Oriel. What is it?” Tajael was breathless.
“I need to give Lizza a life kiss.”
Tajael sobered immediately, glancing down the hall. “Is she injured? What happened?”
“No. Well, not physically injured.” Oriel gritted his teeth. “But you can’t have missed it.”
Tajael’s panic subsided. “We talked about this, my friend. You can’t.”
“But her soul is—”
“Broken. I know. It’s not up to you to—”
“She’s not going to make it, Tajael!” His words came out harsh. Far more harsh and panicked than he intended. He reeled it in. “She’s spiraling down. Every day it gets worse. She’s convinced she’s failed. That she cannot conjure the right mathematics to solve her problem. But it’s not mathematics at all. You and I both know that. What ails her is not in her mind, it is in her soul. And I can heal her, Taj.”
Tajael sighed. “But can you do it without Falling?”
“That’s unimportant now. What matters is that she must carry on.”
Tajael shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “No. This is madness. Oriel—”
“I did not come here for your permission,” he said firmly. “I came here for your help. Your advice. Anything… anything that will give me a chance of clinging to the light.”
Tajael gaped at him. “Oriel, please. Reconsider this—”
Oriel stepped back. “If you will not help—”
Tajael threw up his hands and opened the door further. “Okay. All right. Hang on.” He rubbed his chin. Behind him, Charlotte came around the corner of the hallway to their bedroom. She was dressed in a red silk robe she was still tying around the waist.
“What’s going on?” she asked as she approached.
Tajael exchanged a quick look with him.
Oriel hadn’t wanted to involve her, but Charlotte knew all that they did, anyway. Such was the nature, apparently, of sexual relationships—secrets were not kept. But Charlotte had healed her own soul of her traumatic past. Would she even support a life kiss to heal Lizza’s?
Tajael was leaving it to him to answer.
“Lizza needs my help,” Oriel said. “Help in the form of a life kiss. I stand ready to give it to her, but I came to Tajael for advice on how not to Fall should things get… out of hand.”
“I don’t know what to offer him,” Tajael said to her. He slipped a hand around her waist and held her close. “I was willing to Fall for you, my love. I have no idea how I managed to stay in the light.”
She rested a hand on his shoulder. “Well, I do.” She turned to Oriel. “Love isn’t a Sin, Oriel. Do you love her?”
He swallowed. “I can’t imagine what this is—this tormented feeling—if not love.”
Tajael gently squeezed her waist. “It’s not that simple, my love. Angelings are raised in a cohort with an angel faction leader. We are taken from our mothers at birth. We don’t have what you would call ‘normal’ relationships. We don’t understand love because we don’t experience it—not in all the time we are growing up, not like humans. Even I, with all my time amongst humanity, before I returned to take my vows… even I didn’t understand love until I felt it with you.”
Charlotte frowned then looked at Oriel. “We took it slow. Until Tajael could be sure… or at least as sure as he could be. What’s the hurry? Just give it time.”
Oriel grimaced. “I’m afraid she doesn’t have time.” Charlotte’s eyes went round, but he just turned to Tajael. “Either way, she needs the one thing I can truly give her. It may cost me, but that matters not. I’m a Guardian, Taj. I’m already prepared to give my life for my charge. This is no different. But I need you to stand by. Be ready to watch over her in case I… in case…” He swallowed. “I will make sure to leave if I cannot control myself.”
Tajael’s expression grew darker. “Let me do it, Oriel. I can administer the life kiss.”
“No.” It was sudden and sharp and the fury of it—picturing Lizza in Tajael’s arms, face flushed, gripping his friend with the passion that Oriel craved for himself. Envy was too small a word for it. He staggered back, chest heaving.
Charlotte’s eyebrows shot up. Tajael surged forward only to draw burning sparks from the wards in the threshold. “Oriel!” he called out. “Be calm, my brother. I won’t do it. I promise.”
It worked—his words quenched the raging tornado of emotion swirling through him. Still breathing hard, he gave Tajael a wide-eyed look.
Tajael stepped back from the door, rubbing the rapidly healing burns on his bare chest. “We should go with you. Stand watch, just in case.”
Oriel nodded and swallowed down the remnants of that sour emotion. Envy. How close had he just come to Falling from it?
“I don’t understand,” Charlotte said, looking between the two of them.
“I’ll explain.” To Oriel, he said, “Give us a moment to change. We’ll meet you at her door.”
Oriel stepped back as Tajael closed the door. Then Oriel ran his hands over his face, bracing himself. He’d never in his life—not on walkabout, not during any training—had he ever felt so close to the edge. So close to losing control.
He might save Lizza from the grievous wounds of her soul, but he must take care. If he felt that looseness again—that feeling of control slipping from his grasp—then he must flee from her, immediately.
No matter what, he would not be the thing that harmed her most of all.
Chapter Seven
Lizza sipped at the coffee just to have something to do with her hands.
Why had Oriel left?
He never left her alone, not in the apartment. Sure, he would hang out in the living room while she was sleeping, just because that would be creepy otherwise, and sure, he was twitchy a lot when they were in such close quarters… but she’d never seen him up and flee like that. She rewound over everything she said, but she couldn’t find anything that would drive him away. Unless… was it her disastrous run? She told him she didn’t think she could fix it.
Did her utter and complete failure mean he was off the hook Guarding her now?
She slowed her nervous pacing and set down the mug. She hadn’t considered the possibility of Oriel just leaving. Somehow she figured he would always stick around, trying to Guard her and not giving into this insane sexual tension they had going—she was convinced more than ever that it wasn’t just her. That was the problem—he wanted her, too. They just couldn’t act on those feelings. Which was fine. She could do the friend thing. But she’d been blathering on about her problems—again!—and had failed to mention she understood about being friends. She’d only gotten halfway through an apology, and she’d meant to tell him she would totally respect his space and his need to not do that flirting thing anymore, but then the whole thing had devolved.
And then he left.
That was hitting her harder with each passing moment.
She literally had to sit down because her legs were feeling weak. Then again, she really hadn’t eaten much these last few days. She stuffed a few more crackers and cheese and salami slices in her mouth and chewed with a mission. She needed to be stronger when he came back.
If he came back.
Then she would tell him straight away that she would behave herself from now on. If only he wouldn’t leave her. It wasn’t even about the project or the security—the last thing she was worried about was black-winged shadowlings. She just wanted to know he would stay by her side. Be her friend. Keep her spirits up when they cratered, like today when he literally held her up. She had had no one like that in her life—zero
good friends she could depend on—since her parents died. It had always been her, riding solo, working hard, soaring to new heights of achievement. It was all she’d wanted, and somehow along the way, she’d convinced herself, it was all she needed.
But she needed Oriel.
That was the plain truth, as he would say.
She focused on washing down bites of cheese and crackers with coffee, but she only got halfway through the plate, when suddenly, Oriel, Tajael, and Charlotte appeared in her living room. She was startled so badly, she spilled what was left of her coffee all over her t-shirt and jeans and the couch.
“Oh, crap!” She quickly stood and swallowed down the crackers still in her mouth. Then she just kind of stared in shock… Oriel was back. But why had he brought the others?
“Sorry,” Tajael said, about their sudden entrance. He grimaced at the coffee staining her shirt.
Charlotte just looked her over with a concerned frown.
Oriel hurried to her side, taking the now-empty coffee mug and setting it on the table. “Come with me. We need to talk.” Then he took her hand—what?—and started towing her back toward her bedroom.
“Oriel, what’s going on—”
He flashed a look at her, and she could tell he wanted to speak in private, so she held her tongue. But why bring Tajael and Charlotte to the apartment if he wanted to be alone? Her head was spinning. She glanced back, but Tajael already had his hands on Charlotte’s shoulders, bending his head to speak quietly to her. They were definitely staying put.
When Lizza and Oriel reached her bedroom, he closed the door.
Then he turned to her, but she already had her finger up. “Whatever this is about, I’ve got something to say first.”
