Leah sighed. “Maybe. From what you’re saying, it doesn’t sound like there’s very much available anyway.”
“Afraid not.” The professor sat back and gave her a shrewd look. “What you ought to do is butter up that brother of yours so you can keep staying with him. Does he live close by?”
“Not really. He’s a surgeon at TGH, so he lives by the hospital, but it’s an easy commute—a straight shot. So I don’t mind.”
“A doctor, hmm? Nice. And I bet his place is gorgeous—a lot nicer than what you could find on a TA’s stipend.”
“It is really nice,” Leah admitted. “The bedroom especially—” She broke off abruptly, blushing as she remembered what had happened between her and Owen in his bedroom that morning. For some reason, she could almost smell the warm scent of his skin and feel the hard planes of his chest against her naked breasts. God, I have to stop thinking like this! Just because I had that crazy dream doesn’t mean I should be entertaining these kinds of fantasies. What would Owen think of me if he knew? “The kitchen, I mean,” she continued in confusion. “I meant to say the kitchen is really nice.”
“Oh, do you cook?” Professor Dobrev asked.
“Uh, yes, I do. My mom was an excellent cook, and she taught me everything I know.” Leah was relieved the professor hadn’t noticed her moment of confusion.
“I love to cook too. I find it relaxing. Chopping vegetables, making bread—it’s like Zen for me.” Dobrev grinned. “We should trade recipes sometime. So I take it you’re anxious to try out your brother’s fabulous kitchen?”
“Actually, I am.” Of course, I’ll cook him supper. That will show him how I feel, how much I appreciate him. Leah’s mind was already racing a hundred miles a minute, thinking up possible menus and the ingredients she would need. But I’ll still go look at a few places before I go grocery shopping, just so I can say I did, she decided. After all, she couldn’t count on an invitation to be Owen’s permanent houseguest. It was best to be prepared in case he decided he wanted to go back to the way things had been for the past ten years.
“Well, you’d better get going, then.” Professor Dobrev made a shooing gesture. “Don’t forget to skim that book. We can discuss it tomorrow. Same time.”
“All right. And thank you so much again.” Leah smiled as she picked her way through the academic maze of the messy office and let herself out.
“My pleasure,” Dobrev called as the door closed. “See you tomorrow.”
“That went rather well, I think.”
“The same here. And how did you enjoy spending time in human form?”
“Ugh. It was awful.” The soft sound of feathers rustling. “Crawling on the ground like some kind of bug, not even able to fly…”
“Missed your wings, did you?”
“Of course I did. I don’t know how Micah and Ariel bear it.”
“They can bear it because they don’t know. Not that you didn’t try to give Ariel a pretty broad hint.”
“Oh, you saw that, did you? Yes, I thought it couldn’t hurt.”
“It did, though. It made her dizzy. You know you have to be careful. If we overload those weak human brains of theirs before they get together—”
“I know. They might never find their way back to their celestial bodies.” A sigh. “It’s just that the war is heating up. We can’t wait another ten years. Micah and Ariel need to find each other now.”
“I know what the situation is, but you have to be careful not to give her a stroke.”
“I’m sorry.” Contritely. “But you know my job is harder than yours. Micah already desires Ariel. She, on the other hand, still thinks of him as a brother. And that human taboo is holding them apart, because neither one of them has any idea Micah was adopted.”
“That can’t be helped for now. All you can do is plant a seed.”
“It’s been planted, all right. Now we just have to wait for it to grow.” An impatient sigh. “And waiting is the hardest part. Especially with all of hell on our doorstep.”
“Don’t worry. We will prevail in the end.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Chapter Seven
Several hours later, Leah was back at Owen’s loft, feeling discouraged. The hunt for a place of her own had been a dismal failure. It seemed almost everything in her price range was taken—all but a creepy little apartment building not far from campus that looked like someplace Jason from Friday the 13th would feel right at home.
It was a grungy, ground-floor one-bedroom, with water spots on the ceiling and a leaky bathroom faucet. There were also black plastic roach traps in every corner. But when Leah had asked about them, the landlord, a surly man with a huge, hairy belly falling out of his dirty white T-shirt, had denied there was any kind of a pest problem. He had frowned when he said it, his brown piggy eyes almost lost in the folds of his doughy cheeks. Leah got the impression he wouldn’t be the easiest person to rent from—he was about as scummy as the apartment itself. Still, since there was nothing else, she supposed she might actually have to take it. She’d gotten his card and promised to call him back in a day or so.
Leah sighed. Oh well, maybe I can just take it for a little while, and next semester something else will open up. Nothing I can do about it now, and anyway, it’s time to start supper.
She’d stopped by a grocery store on the way home and got the ingredients for a chef salad, since that had always been one of Owen’s favorites, and it was easy to make. Not that she minded preparing something more elaborate, but it was better to eat light if he was going to get home late, and besides, she had to have time to study the angel-legends book Professor Dobrev had given her.
After everything was chopped and chilling in the sleek, stainless-steel fridge, Leah took a quick shower and looked for something more comfortable to change into. She could have sworn she’d packed plenty of sleep clothes, but all she could find was a single lacy black negligee and matching panties. The set was way too sexy and see-through to hang around the house in. Especially after that weird dream I had this morning. Leah pushed the disturbing thought away and kept looking.
Where had her sweatpants and concert T-shirts gone to? After digging through her suitcase twice, she decided they were probably all in the boxes being shipped from Sacramento. In the end, she grabbed another one of Owen’s white T-shirts and pulled on a comfortable old pair of ragged jean shorts she liked to wear around the house. Why she had packed those and no nightgowns was beyond her, but she had been pretty distracted while she was getting ready to move.
She debated wearing a bra under the shirt, but the lacy white underwire bra she’d had on all day had been cutting into her unmercifully. Leah was reluctant to put it back on. The other bra she had—the one she’d been wearing when she first arrived at Owen’s doorstep—was black. Which was going to look weird under a white T-shirt, but what the hell. It wasn’t like she cared what Owen thought of how she looked anyway—he was her brother, not her boyfriend.
So, comfortable in her black bra and white T-shirt, she settled on the black leather sofa with the small leather-bound volume of angel mythology and prepared to do her homework.
Most of the legends had to do with the idea of fallen angels coming to earth to take human wives. Leah was fairly familiar with that concept, so she skimmed a lot until she came to a section in the middle of the book that had a red silk bookmark between the pages. “Illandra’s Debasement.” Hmm, interesting.
At first she thought it was another fallen-angel story, and it did start with a male angel and a female human. But then it turned out to be a story of the human woman’s children instead, specifically her daughter, who had been fathered by the angel. The writing style caught her, and after skimming a few paragraphs, Leah was hooked and went back to read the legend more carefully.
And it came to pass that Illandra, who was the child of a human mother and a celestial father, was more beautiful than any other in the land, for she shone with an inner light she had in
herited from her father. All the young men desired her, but she would have none of them, swearing that she would never give herself until true love found her.
Then one day Illandra met a young man named Aaron when she went to draw water from the well. Aaron was comely and well built and had just journeyed to her town to meet his mother, who had been separated from his father when he was very young.
Illandra loved him at once, feeling an attraction so fierce, she could not contain herself. There was an abandoned cottage near the well, and she led Aaron to it. There she made herself naked and showed herself to him, and he was overcome with lust for her beauty. He kissed her breasts, taking them into his mouth and sucking gently until she could bear no more.
Though Illandra was a virgin and could not give herself completely until she married, she longed to open herself and take Aaron deep within her body. But he would not let her, saying that she must be pure for their marriage bed, for already they had resolved to marry. However, he too was consumed with lust and wished to give her pleasure. He coaxed Illandra to open her thighs, and then he lay between them and gave her many long, loving kisses until her pleasure reached a peak, as did his own. This he did many times before the two of them were sated with their love.
“Wow,” Leah said softly. “Angel porn. Who would have guessed?” She giggled nervously. The truth was, the story had her kind of hot and bothered. One didn’t often run across such graphic language in what was supposed to be an academic book, and the description of Aaron kissing between Illandra’s thighs was…interesting to say the least. Eagerly, she went back to the story.
Replete with pleasure, Illandra and Aaron put on their clothing, which they had cast aside, the better to caress each other. Illandra resolved to take him to her mother’s house at once and tell her the good news—that she had finally found a man she wished to marry. Aaron was handsome and pleasing and all that was right in a man, and she was certain her mother would cry for joy when she learned the news.
And so her mother did cry, but not from joy. When she learned the name of Aaron’s father, she cried out in horror, for it was the name of her human husband who had left her, taking their young son, when she was first visited by the angel who had fathered Illandra. So it was that Illandra and Aaron were brother and sister, and so could never wed, much to their sorrow.
“Damn.” Leah put down the book for a minute. “Should have seen that coming. An oedipal twist. This is so weird, almost like…” But she couldn’t let herself finish the thought—that the story reminded her of Owen and herself. She almost decided to skip to the next legend; this one was getting too strange. But it had been marked with the red silk bookmark. What if Professor Dobrev mentioned it specifically? What could she say? Oh, I stopped reading that one because it weirded me out. Yeah, that would go over well. Better to finish it, no matter how odd it got. She opened the book again and continued reading.
Aaron was horrified in turn and begged Illandra’s pardon again and again. He swore that they must forget the time they had spent together and promised he would never reveal it to a soul, for it would have ruined Illandra’s marriage prospects.
But though she tried, Illandra could never forget the sweetness of her brother’s love. She remembered the time they had spent together in the abandoned cottage, and especially the delicious kisses he had given her between her thighs. Finally she begged him to meet her there again so that they might at least talk together without the eyes of the town upon them.
Though he was filled with misgivings, Aaron could not refuse her request, for he loved Illandra still. He met her as she asked, in the dead of night, promising himself it would be the only time he would do such a thing. But instead of talking, Illandra threw open her robes and revealed her nakedness to him again. She swore that though he was her brother, she could never love another man half as much and begged him to take her.
“Seriously?” Leah muttered. Once again she was strongly tempted to skip to the next legend. But though the story made her incredibly uncomfortable, she found she couldn’t stop reading. It kept reminding her of the strange golden dream she’d had, the feeling of rightness she’d felt in Owen’s arms. Could that be what Illandra was feeling when she’d decided to seduce Aaron? Had she somehow known that they belonged together despite all the facts to the contrary?
Aaron knew it was wrong, but he could deny Illandra nothing. Her breasts were high and lovely, and between her thighs, he saw she was already moist for him. Calling upon the heavens to forgive him, he fell to his knees and worshipped her with his tongue. Then he lay her down on the floor on a pallet of their discarded robes and had her as a man takes a woman, again and again.
Illandra gave herself willingly, calling Aaron’s name even as he filled her with his seed. Though she knew it was wrong, her heart told her their deed was right, justified by love no matter what the world might say. And so…
Leah read a bit farther. The legend went into greater detail, telling about several other illicit meetings between Illandra and Aaron and what they did—more hot sex, mostly—but by now she was feeling so peculiar, she could hardly sit still. She didn’t want to admit, even to herself, that the graphic description of Aaron and Illandra’s lovemaking was still turning her on. But she could hardly deny that her nipples, rubbing against the black lace of her bra, were hard or the fact that the crotch of her pink lacy panties felt distinctly damp. Wow, was this really arousing her? That was crazy, wasn’t it? She shifted on the couch, wishing the seam of her jean shorts wouldn’t rub between her legs quite so hard, and tried to think rationally.
Of course what Aaron and Illandra had done was wrong, but who could blame them for falling in love when they had never met before? It seemed so unfair that Illandra had found the one man she could truly care for, but he was off-limits because of some shared ancestry. After all, if Leah had been Illandra and she’d met Owen, not knowing he was her brother… But that wasn’t something she ought to be thinking about. Nor should she be remembering how good Owen’s muscular body had felt against her that morning or wondering what it would be like to kiss him—to touch him the way Illandra had touched Aaron… Acting on her feelings would only hurt her brother, make him feel more conflicted, and she didn’t want to do that.
Leah leaned her head back against the sofa and closed her eyes. Thinking about this made her head ache, and she’d already had a stressful day. Just need to rest a minute. Rest and relax, and then I’ll feel better when Owen gets home…
Suddenly she found herself back in the white-marble palace before the large golden doors. Again she saw the two winged beings—angels, she supposed—entwined with each other. Only this time she wasn’t observing from the outside—she was one of them. She was looking up into her lover’s face as his arms and wings surrounded her, as he filled her and made the two of them one.
“Owen?” she said softly, looking at him in awe. For the angel making love to her wore her brother’s face and had his same lovely cerulean eyes.
“That is the name you know me by now, yes.” He smiled at her sadly. “But it was not always my name. And we were not always forbidden to each other.”
“But…but…” She looked at him uncertainly and then looked down to the place they were joined. She could feel him inside her, moving with a languid thrusting motion that was both pleasurable and comforting. “But this isn’t right, Owen,” she protested. “You’re…you’re my brother. We can’t be doing this.”
“You’re wrong, beloved.” Leaning down, the angel who both was and wasn’t her brother kissed her on the mouth. “We belong together,” he murmured against her lips. “We’re meant to be joined always, just as you see us now. But the man you know as Owen cannot see that. He wants you like he wants his next breath, but his guilt blinds him.”
Leah shook her head and moaned softly as he thrust gently inside her. “I don’t…don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to,” her angel lover told her. “All you need to know is that the
two of you must join.”
“Join? You mean…make love? The way we’re doing now?” Leah looked up at him, shocked. “But I couldn’t. That would hurt Owen too much. He already feels so bad…”
“You must overcome his guilt.” Owen’s deep voice spoke in her ear. “You must show him the way. Lead him slowly, beloved, but do not fail. More than you know hangs in the balance.”
“But how…?”
“You will find a way. I have faith in you—faith that you will bring us together again.”
And then the vision was fading, the golden doors and marble columns blowing away like wisps of cloud on the wind, no matter how Leah tried to hold on to them. The last thing she saw before she opened her eyes was her lover’s face—Owen’s face—whispering his love and begging her to find a way to bring them together.
Leah shook her head, trying to get rid of the illicit images. What had brought on the strange dream again? Was it her subconscious telling her she wanted something she shouldn’t want from Owen? Or was there a deeper meaning? Could it be that some entity from beyond her realm of experience was actually trying to tell her that she and Owen needed to be together?
She tried to scoff at the idea, but there was no denying the feeling that lingered within her. It was the feeling of rightness—the sense that she and Owen belonged to each other, that their relationship went far beyond the usual boundaries of a brother and sister.
On the outside it seemed strange and wrong, but Leah reluctantly decided that maybe she ought to explore the idea. It might hurt Owen at first, but what if the dream was telling her that opening herself to the possibility of a more physical relationship with him would ultimately help him? Maybe bring them closer together and heal him in some way?
It sounds crazy, but maybe…
“What sounds crazy?” Owen’s voice broke her concentration, and Leah realized she must have spoken the last thoughts aloud. Blushing, she hastily shoved book she was still holding between the couch cushions.
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