by Joey W. Hill
Unholy flame shot through Jonah's eyes. When David began to move forward, Anna put a hand on his arm, stopping him. Whatever was between these two, they were far more powerful than this young angel, and he shouldn't be between them, any more than she should. She sensed it, even as she had to quell a similarly powerful desire to go to Jonah.
"Petulance? Century after century, human bloodshed and cruel ignorance, their greed . . . It all calls to the Dark Ones," Jonah continued in that terrible voice. "We fight for Her, but is She ever going to fight for us?"
She'd seen Jonah move with extraordinary speed. But it was nothing next to how Lucifer moved. She didn't even have a chance to scream before he knocked into Jonah and the two of them were snarling, twisting in the air like eagles fighting . . .
Lightning struck. Lucifer and Jonah landed, squaring off as David pulled Anna back. Before her toes, the earth became scorched, a black stain spreading from the strike of the fiery spear from the sky. Another fork came down on either side just behind Jonah, severing two tree limbs. He didn't even register the strike as the branches fell within inches of him.
Lucifer stepped forward again, his face gone terrible and cold. Heat swept over the glade, the fires of Hell threatening, hot enough that it prickled over her skin. Her attention shot to Jonah, the grim expression of anticipation on his face.
No, this is what he wants.
"No!" She cried it out. David made a grab for her, but she flung herself at Jonah. Not at his upper body, which she knew he'd react to instinctively as an attack, but at his legs. Dropping to her knees on the burning earth, she hugged them hard to her, her hair blowing wildly around his thighs from the wind the two angels were generating.
"Jonah, please. Stop. This isn't you. Come back to me."
Jonah blinked, angled his chin, his movements slow, ponderous. Deadly. The anger died out of his gaze as he registered her touch.
Anna. Anna was in the middle of this. In danger. That wasn't acceptable.
The sky, while overcast and grumbling, lightened, and the storm flashes died, drifting away with the thunder. David felt a wave of relief, though his gaze stayed fastened to Jonah and the woman at his feet. Lucifer had not powered down one iota. His heat still surrounded them all, threatening, keeping Jonah's hackles up, his stance combative. Only now instead of an aggressive pissing contest, David noted with great interest Jonah's manner was protective. From the speculative flicker in Lucifer's gaze, he knew the Lord of the Underworld had noted it as well.
"The poison of the Dark Ones has infected you, Jonah. But you are accepting it, which means you will not heal. It will only grow."
"I am tired and wish to be left alone," Jonah said, his syllables precise, clipped, his eyes still dark and flat, though the red flames had died back. "That is all. If it is my will to return, I shall. Until then, let the Lady find whatever sacrificial lambs She can for Her precious human pets. I'm done being Her shepherd."
In the aftermath of that momentous announcement, the light of dawn broke on the horizon.
The first and second times, he'd been asleep. Now, bleeding, his body still vibrating with battle rage, it hit him like a convulsion. With a strangled cry, Jonah was knocked to his knees, pushing Anna backward, the rippling of his body trying to accommodate the mortal form. The wings disintegrated in a spray of ash that vortexed around him, taunting before dispelling, leaving him balanced on one hand, breathing hard. Anna reached for him.
"No." Jonah snapped it out almost at the same time as Lucifer. The two angels met gazes again, telling Anna that no matter what else was going on in this moment, this black-winged angel knew Jonah well enough to know he would scorn help. And Jonah's expression said he resented that familiarity. Deeply. He made it to his feet with effort and squared off with Lucifer.
"As you can see, I'm a bit encumbered by a spell. If you take me aloft, I'll tumble out of the sky."
"That's an excuse." Lucifer snorted. "We can remove the spell, if you'd only ask."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that," David murmured. "It was a strong casting. Though temporary," he added at Luc's searing look. "To protect him."
"It did an admirable job." Luc hefted his scythe, stained with Dark Ones' blood. "We were entirely unnecessary."
Anna felt a little sick at the fluid flowing down to the handguard; then Luc blinked, and it was gone, the lethal blade clean, glittering. For some reason, the sight of it that way disturbed her even more.
"I thank you for your aid," Jonah said stiffly.
"Good. For it will be a cold day in Hell before I aid you again. How long will she be safe with you, hmm?" Luc glanced at Anna, took a second, slower look. She saw him notice how the breeze flattened the bodice of the dress against her unbound breasts, how her thighs were outlined.
Jonah shifted in front of her, breaking the contact. "She's not your concern. In any way."
"Will she be your concern, when she is dead?" Luc was merciless, his tone impassive. "You must come with us."
"He can't." Anna moved out from behind Jonah, though her voice quavered a bit as those dark, coal-fired eyes turned to her. "He's going to a healer. He must go to him. Mina said so, in order for him to be . . . well again."
Luc blinked. "The Dark Spawn is sending you to a human healer. And you're going?"
"I am not going back with you. That is all I will say."
"For now," Anna put in placatingly, though Jonah gave her a black look.
Luc's gaze shifted between them. For a moment, Anna thought David had bitten back a surprised chuckle, but then he coughed and she couldn't be sure.
"Jonah." Lucifer's voice changed, and though it was still stern, unyielding, she heard a note in it that suggested she and David were not the only ones personally concerned about Jonah. "We can help you."
She turned to see something vital shift in Jonah's expression. When he shook his head, for the first time, he broke contact with Lucifer's gaze. "I can't be with you now, Luc. I have no desire to return to it."
From the raw sound of the words, Anna thought something was tearing inside of him, leaving holes only fit to be filled with the battle rage he'd just demonstrated, as if he could bear no other emotion. Uneasily, it made her recall his description of Dark Ones, the way they tore rifts in the universe and charged through, seemingly propelled by fury alone.
A shudder went through him. Pressing a distracted kiss to her hand, he turned and left the three of them. As she watched him walk toward the copse of trees by the creek, she felt the passion and anger that had driven him evaporating, his desire to fight back replaced by something far worse.
While every part of her yearned to go to him, she made herself turn around and face both angels. Face Lucifer. Summoning her courage, she met his gaze and managed it for about a blink before she had to shift her own to the line of his shoulder.
"My lord . . . I wish . . . Is there anything you know that can help me?"
He cocked his head, studying her for a long, unbearable moment. It was all she could do not to retreat. "If I did," he said at last, "perhaps I would know the way to unlock this shield he's erected against us all. My Lady says give him some time, but She is patience. I am simply fire."
When he glanced at Jonah, kept his gaze there in reflective silence, she tried again. "Perhaps . . . could Ronin somehow be . . . Did his death change something for Jonah?"
That brought both angels' attention back to her. She saw the answer in David's face, but it was Lucifer who spoke. "Yes. We began to notice differences in his manner when he lost Ronin."
"He doesn't seem to like talking about him."
"No, he wouldn't." Lucifer's countenance was terrifyingly impassive, but Anna paid close attention regardless, sensing he would not be speaking unless he felt his words had significance to her. And the flicker in David's eyes told her she was on the right track. "Jonah has had many sons, though none came from his loins. He has lost many of those sons. Ronin was his lieutenant for over two hundred years."
Anna swallowed. To have someone he loved as a son for so long, and then lose him . . . "How old is Jonah?"
"Over a thousand, at least," David said quietly, and Anna tried to mask her shock.
"Time can sit heavily on an angel's shoulders," Lucifer continued. "Ronin alone could tease Jonah, mock him. At times he goaded Jonah's patience, for Ronin went his own way, never growing out of his impetuousness."
Lucifer blinked, once, a brief respite from the intensity of his gaze. "Yes, Ronin is important to what has happened. David is, too. He'd started to love David the same way, just when he lost Ronin. I suspect Jonah feels he can bear to lose no more sons."
David's head whipped around, his startled eyes finding Luc. Luc glanced at him. "You should not be hurt by what he said to you before. He was right. You can't ease his heart by pretending to be Ronin. Look beyond what he said to what he meant. He cherishes your seriousness, David. And not just because he believes it will keep you alive longer."
As Lucifer shifted his attention back to Anna, he bit off an impatient sigh. "I understand my Lady's words. The answer is almost always simple. But the journey is not. For it to be his own truth, he must find it." His lips twitched. "While I find it ironic as well as frustrating that he is walking to his destination as a human, it is a reminder of that. This witch may have more of my Lady's wisdom than expected."
The dark gaze hardened and Anna took a step back, swallowing. "However, the unfortunate thing is we need Jonah now. If he isn't with us, preparations to do without him must take precedence over his state of mind. For good or ill, you seem to be the only one able to reach him at the moment. You should be terrified by that, Anna. It does not bode well for any of us, and we could sorely use him. I wish you the blessings of the Lady and as much luck as She can spare you."
Then in a blink, he was aloft, leaving them with a last look of frustration and disgust. He went into the sky so far and fast, the backwash from his launch blasted the leaves up into a brief, spiraling whirlwind around them and ruffled David's feathers.
Anna let out a breath. Okay, so she really hadn't lost her fear and awe of angels. Lucifer was terrifying. Magnificent, yes, but he seemed even more formidable and frightening in his quiet reserve than Jonah in a temper, such that she was glad they had not come to blows.
"They're a lot alike, the two of them. Things never go well when they disagree," David remarked, as if reading her mind.
"Is that why we have tsunamis and hurricanes?" she asked.
David almost smiled. "No, but they certainly could whip those up, if they didn't have the control they have. They can push Earth off her axis, completely alter the tides and destroy life as we know it. They just can't seem to figure out how to agree on certain points. They have some of your witch's stubborness, come to think of it."
"You didn't hurt Mina, did you?" Her question took him off guard. Something flashed across his face. Apprehension and anger flared in her. "My lord, you didn't--"
"She is well, as I have said," he said firmly. "I thought she was an enemy. Now I know better." There was an inflection to his voice that caused Anna some curiosity, but he continued. "Anna, do you think taking him to the healer will help him?"
Anna found herself a bit flustered to be asked her opinion. "I hope so. He's not allowing me to help him heal in other ways. At least not as much as I'd like." Mortified at his shrewd glance, she blushed.
David chuckled, a pleasant male sound despite the dark worry in his eyes. "Then he is insane." He gave her an appreciative but inoffensive look before he sobered. "The lives of angels are determined by Fate and the Lady's will. We accept this. It's part of who we are, as much as breathing. I know that acceptance is still inside him, no matter what he says. Would you agree?"
She nodded. "At the core of him, he still serves the Goddess. He just seems . . . angry at Her?" Biting her lip, she added, "No offense to Her intended."
While a disturbed look flashed across his face, David nodded. "I suspected as much, but it's a hard thing for angels to discuss, let alone contemplate. So while it hurts me to leave him like this, it's obvious our presence will not help. Luc is right. We must go prepare for both the best and the worst that may happen."
The things that crossed his gaze made Anna uneasy, confirming that Jonah's defection was having more far-reaching implications than she could know in the limited scope of her world. "Can you tell me--"
"I need to go," he said, albeit gently. "Mina knows how to find me if he has immediate need of us. Remember that. Don't hesitate to use your link with her. Focus on him, Anna, and let us worry about the rest. He's very important to us. To all of us."
"I'll remember." She hadn't even known she had a link to Mina, one of many things she didn't know, but she didn't feel it necessary to share her ignorance of that with the worried-looking lieutenant. "He'll be okay. He just needs time."
She wanted to believe that, so she did.
"Let's hope Fate will provide it," David responded. "Good-bye, Anna."
Fifteen
THE darkness is growing in you, Jonah. Lucifer's words, her dream, David's worried look . . . She couldn't stop the shiver from running over her skin as she looked at her now human angel, squatting naked by the creek, tossing in pebbles, the line of his muscled back taut with the things fighting within him.
Though she'd shrugged off Mina's concern at the time, she had wondered why he hadn't contacted other angels to come to his aid. It had also surprised her, as it had Mina, that the vision pointed them to a human shaman, rather than back toward the heavens. Now two angels had come to their immediate physical aid, but both believed whatever ailed Jonah was not within their power to fix.
Of a sudden, she felt very alone. She'd been going forward only on feelings . . . Goddess help her, nothing but optimism. It had never occurred to her what larger things might be at stake.
The unfortunate thing is we need Jonah now . . .
He just needs time . . . Let's hope Fate will provide it.
Lucifer and David's warnings made it clear that an angel of Jonah's power wasn't supposed to be traipsing the countryside aimlessly. Lucifer had called Jonah a petulant child.
But Anna wasn't in the habit of letting others do her thinking, even if it was a creature as old and terrifying as the Lord of the Underworld. She studied the man crouched by the stream. His face was tilted up toward the touch of the wind; his eyes were closed. With features as perfectly sculpted as the Lady could make them, it was no wonder the wind kissed his face, caressed him. But there was no easing to his brow, no sense it brought him any comfort.
She had the sudden and disturbing realization that he had looked more at peace fighting a losing battle against the Dark Ones amid the forest of tree limbs.
He bowed his head now, an arm bending along the side of his skull, one fist clenched on the back of his neck.
When she stepped forward, he made a noise of warning.
"I'm a stranger to myself, Anna. Lost. Don't come near me."
The sound of his voice, so determined and yet so broken at once, wrenched her heart. What could she possibly know that could ease the heart of an angel like Jonah? Nothing. But then, neither Lucifer nor David knew the answer any more than she did.
She bent, started picking flowers. There was a variety of small white ones all through their little glade. Taking her time, thanking the plants for their sacrifice, she collected the petals, working her way closer. She could sense his attention drifting over her, while the rest of his thoughts dwelled in much darker realms.
When she was next to him, she hesitated, then opened her hand over the crown of his head. The petals floated down, landing on his clenched fist, in his hair, tumbling down his shoulders and back. Despite his warning, she followed their descent with her own fingers, stroking his blood-stiffened hair. There were crimson and brown streaks down his back, oblong patches of clean skin where his wings had been. She bent, placed her lips against his body there.
She'd always simply
been who she was, a shapeshifter with no real place, no requirement to be anything except what she herself demanded. She'd not had anything to define her but herself. She could even reinvent herself if she wished. In contrast, she sensed Jonah struggling with the very core of who he was, and that battle was happening in such markedly fetid waters she wondered how he could see his sure path anymore. How anyone could.
She knelt, stroking his hair, still following the curve of his ear. "My lord?"
It was little more than a whisper, but his head snapped up as if she'd shouted. His eyes were unfocused, wild. The blood on his face made him look like a primitive savage. "What can I do to help you?" she asked.
Jonah stared at her. He could make no sense of his thoughts, but there was a part of him that knew she shouldn't be this close to him. His blood was charged from the battle, his body pulsing with the latent rage from it. He was angry at Luc for disrupting the numb mind-set he'd been in before it all happened. And David . . .
Ah, Goddess. He wanted to split out of his skin, leave everything he was behind, and knew he couldn't do it. The memories would follow him, haunt him still.
To escape those ghosts, he reached out and curled a hand in Anna's hair, winding it over his knuckles, watching the overlap of the thick, lustrous curls. The Goddess could create such a marvelous thing. Anna's shining mane of hair, her fragile face, those violet eyes and soft breasts . . . So perfect, it fueled the fire within him, the unreasoning anger.
He was filthy. He stank of Dark One, and he knew he had no business touching her, but her arms were winding around his neck . . .
"Goddess help you," he said.
He took her flat onto the ground, his hand on her throat, holding her still, staring down at her. You could snap it with barely a thought.
But she had no fear, not of him. She was quivering, yes, but she lay docile under his hold, trusting he would not harm her.
Will she be your concern, when she's dead?
With a near sob of despair for the conflict of his thoughts, he yanked the skirt of the dress out of his way and shoved into her with the precision and violence with which he'd skewered a Dark One.
