by Alisa Woods
Hank grinned and leaned close. “I’ve got a secret admirer.”
Charlotte frowned. “You do?”
He nodded sagely. “Leaves me little presents. Muffins today. The other day it was cookies.”
Cookies. The cookies she made for Tajael earlier in the week.
“Pretty good ones, too.” He stuffed more of the muffin in his mouth then offered the bits left up to her. “Want some?”
“No.” She stepped back. This really shouldn’t hurt her as much as it did. But… why? Why was Tajael giving away her gifts? “See you next time,” she said, slowly backing away.
Then she climbed in the car. Max frowned at the change in her demeanor, but she didn’t try to explain. Didn’t want to, really. What would she say? That the unreasonably handsome man who rescued her from her co-worker’s sexual assault turned out to not like her thank-you treats enough to keep them, and now she was crushed? What was she, like, twelve?
Still… an undeniable pain speared through her chest.
The ride home was quick—they had beaten the traffic since she had left the office early—and she was riding the elevator up before she had even begun to clear her head about this. Should she confront him? No, that was silly. Should she stop and see him, like she planned? She had no reason to. No excuse. Nothing to give him… not that he wanted her gifts, apparently.
No. She should just… stop. Stop bothering him. Stop acting like a stalker. Her ex-husband had stalked and terrified her throughout the divorce proceedings, and it was the worst thing in the world. All she wanted was to live her life and be left alone. She didn’t want to be like Craig… or even give a hint of being like him. No, the best gift she could give Tajael would be just to respect his privacy and let him be. Leave him alone.
Somehow that cranked tighter whatever vise was squeezing on her chest.
The elevator released her onto her floor. She stepped out, glanced at Tajael’s door halfway down the hall, then determined to march right past it. But just as she got there, the door opened, and Tajael stepped out. He startled her so badly, she dropped her purse, which exploded and spewed its contents everywhere. Not that there was much in there—just a packet of Kleenex, her Flash keychain, a small wallet, and a thousand quarters. Okay, maybe only a dozen, but she’d been using the new drink machine at work and had a lot of change.
“Sorry,” Tajael said, stooping to help her. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Oh God, he was helping her… again. “No, I just…” Fuck. She scrambled after every last quarter, trying to round them up and get out of there fast. “I was just, er, surprised is all.” She captured all the quarters, but he was already standing up, holding her purse open for her to dump her stuff in. She did so, focusing on the task like it was brain surgery, just to avoid looking him in the face.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah. I’m great!” She took back her purse. He seemed reluctant to let it go.
“You don’t seem great,” he said softly.
She scowled. “I’m fine.” Fantastic. Now he thought she was some kind of scatter-brained, strung-tight nervous wreck who flailed her purse at the slightest upset.
He grimaced. “I don’t always say the right thing. I’m sorry.”
The look of anguish on his face arrested her. Why did he have to be so beautiful and so sensitive and so kind all the freaking time? And then he turned around and gave away her muffins when she wasn’t looking? The whole thing was mixed up and messed up, and her heart just couldn’t take that see-saw. “You don’t have to be nice to me, okay? I mean, I appreciate that you’re nice. And I can never ever repay you for what you did before. But it doesn’t mean… we don’t have to…” What the hell was she even trying to say?
“I’d like us to be friends,” he said in that so-soft-and-gentle voice. Almost like he wasn’t just standing there like a normal person talking the hallway, but somehow he was reaching inside her and speaking directly to her heart. “If that’s okay with you.”
Her throat was closing. “Friends? Friends is… friends is good.” Oh, my God, she was babbling. She couldn’t decide if the pain in her chest was because she didn’t believe him—that he was just saying this to be nice—or because she couldn’t deny wanting a whole hell of a lot more than friendship from Tajael, her hero and secretive No-Last-Name, No-Cell-Phone neighbor.
He fished something out of the pocket of his flannel shirt, the one that hung loosely over the tight white t-shirt underneath. The one that didn’t hide any of his muscles. He held the origami dragon she made for him in the palm of his hand. Oh God, if he was giving it back…
Tears fought each other for space at the backs of her eyes. She would not cry in front of him. She swore it.
“It reminds me of you,” he said with a small smile. “Fierce. Unexpected. Magical.”
She just blinked at him. What was he saying…
Then he pulled another small bit of origami from his pocket only this one was impossibly delicate. With wings. In the shape of…
“It’s an angel.” There was an unmistakable shine in his eyes now. “A Guardian angel. To remind you of me.”
Her mouth worked, but nothing came out. She slowly lifted the delicate paper angel from his hand.
He cleared his throat. “I know this is weird and strange and, well, probably uncomfortable.” His voice was taking on that awkward quality again. “But I want you to know that I’m here. Anytime you need me. You don’t have to…” He swallowed. “You don’t have to bring me gifts, okay? There’s nothing to repay. Saving the good people of the world from the bad… it’s what I do. It’s what brings meaning to my life. So, you see, I should really be thanking you for the chance to be there when you needed me.”
The tears in her eyes had somehow traveled down and turned into a lump in her throat. “Why are you so good?” Then she flushed, heat rising to her cheeks—what the hell kind of thing was that to say?
He gave a small laugh. “I’m not as virtuous as you think.”
She just shook her head. Because he was the most decent person she had ever met.
“Anyway, we’re even, okay?” He tucked the origami dragon back in his pocket.
He kept it. He kept it, and he made one for her, and he wanted to be friends. A giddy school-girl crush kind of feeling surged through her, but somehow, it made everything right in the universe again.
“And no more baked goods, okay?” he said with a gentle smile. “I have this weird diet thing where I can’t eat things like that. I tasted them, though. They were delicious.”
And with that, every last tension fell out of her body. Of course, there was some logical explanation why he gave them away. It was just the poison of years and years with Craig that made her think that everything had a double meaning, every act was a way to sabotage her, everything was meant hurt her or bring her down.
But Tajael… he was the opposite of Craig in every possible way.
She nodded. “No more baked goods.”
His eyes shone. “But maybe coffee? Or are you a tea drinker?” There was a teasing smirk at the corners of his mouth.
Her heart lurched. “Definitely tea.”
“Tomorrow then? I know you’re busy. Maybe after you get home from work?”
She nodded so hard she almost couldn’t get the words out. “Yes. Absolutely.”
Then he rained that brilliant smile on her and ducked back into his apartment.
A date. She had a date with a Greek god. Just as friends. Sure. Because friends definitely exchanged origami miniatures to remember each other by.
She floated all the way back to her apartment.
Mr. Buzzy would get the workout of his life tonight.
What in all the Virtues was he thinking?
Tajael was perched on top of Charlotte’s physics machine, next to the paper crane in its box, watching the workers toil to make the device run. Or more specifically, a certain part of the device called the “virtual harmo
nic resonator.” They were having no luck with getting it to function, and Tajael had plenty of time to ponder the vast foolishness of his actions the day before.
“Can I take you out for tea?” He was not here to date Charlotte. Nor join in her nightly pleasure sessions. Or befriend her. All of these were so far from true Guardianship, so close to conjuring a host of Sins, the only explanation was that he’d lost his mind already.
He habitually unfurled his wings to check: still white.
He understood how it happened. She’d discovered the muffins with Hank, and Tajael had panicked. Every body signal she gave off said she was pained—hurt by his action, one he had thoughtlessly taken without foreseeing the consequence. His automatic and overwhelming urge was to comfort her. To soothe that pain in any way possible. It was a reflex for a Protector Class angeling, but if he were honest, it went far beyond that.
Every word he spoke to her was Truth. He did want to be friends. He wanted her to know him, to remember him, to be reminded of him. He watched her place the small paper Guardian Angel by her bedside, and it flushed him with pleasure. Not as much as she experienced later that night… but he didn’t cover his ears, either. He knew she was thinking of him. He heard her call out his name in the throes. And as heated as that made him, as much as his body reacted—heart racing, mouth dry, his male organ tight with need—he couldn’t feel wrong about giving her that pleasure, if only from a distance.
He told himself: she needed it. She deserved it, with all she had been through. In Truth, the line between what he desired and what he thought she needed was dangerously blurred. And her obvious attraction, her open-hearted excitement for their date at the end of work today… it thrilled him in a way that was sure to spell doom for him, sooner or later.
Either his restraint would hold until she accomplished her science breakthrough—or he would be tempted one action too far and Fall into the shadow realm. He’d halfway made plans for that already, Truth be told. If he were to Fall into shadow, he would lose Charlotte and all hope for redemption. But he would join the war as an insurgent shadow angeling, fighting against his own kind and the demon-infected humans haunting the streets. He would not be able to officially Guard her anymore, but he would watch over her nonetheless, and keep her safe in any way he could.
In short, he was hopelessly lost.
It was nearing the end of the day, and the tension in the lab had built to breaking. Charlotte stood back and donned ear protection, along with the other engineers. One tapped a touch screen with a series of commands, and the resonance device started to hum. It slowly ramped up in intensity. Nothing like angelsong, but loud nonetheless. So far, nothing they’d accomplished felt anything like magic to him—no reverberations through magical space, in any event. Just a bunch of loud clacking and thrumming and whining and other mechanical and electrical sounds that spoke of human ingenuity… but not of extradimensional energy.
Or magic, as Tajael knew it.
He truly wondered what it would mean should Charlotte succeed. Angelkind existed to love and protect humanity. While humankind could commit evil acts that made shadow angels look like amateurs, humans also had wondrous accomplishments of art and science. Which would this invention be? Were the fae right to fear them? In his heart, Tajael couldn’t believe it. First, because the fae were the immortal enemies to the angelkind, and he refused to believe they could be on the right side of this. Second, God created humanity to know him. Tajael didn’t know the how or why of it, but that purpose thrummed through him. If humanity took a step toward the angel realm, perhaps that was exactly as they were intended to do. But mostly, he couldn’t believe anyone as pure of heart and soul as Charlotte, someone who shone with soul-brilliance even with all the wrongs done to her, could be the architect of something that was anything other than good at essence.
He had started this Guardian assignment as a duty to his faction leader and angelkind, but now? Now, his duty was to her and her alone. And the larger purpose she served. If he could prostrate at her feet and pledge himself and his life to serving and defending her, he would.
Instead, he would be taking her to tea.
He almost laughed at the preposterousness of it. But he didn’t have an auditory shield up—he was too curious about all their plans and machinations. Although the cacophony in the lab was such that he was tempted to raise one. A few seconds later, it cut quickly, the motors winding down with a distinct whine. By the groans and soft curses from the humans, he gathered it was another failure.
“All right, everyone take five,” Jimmy said. Charlotte was the brilliance behind the experiments, but he was the leader in the lab.
Charlotte pursed her lips and was the first one out. While the others wandered to the snack area, she headed straight for the restroom, which was outside the office and down the hall. He zipped ahead to make sure it was empty. Normally, he would leave her some privacy, but this time, when she entered, she went straight to the sink instead. Her fists pressed into the small tiles of the counter, and he could see the tears welling up in her eyes.
It tormented him.
He couldn’t simply appear in the women’s bathroom to comfort her. He was left helpless to watch as she pounded her fists, then scrunched up her face, then finally covered it with her hands. He could hear her sobs and see her shoulders heave up and down.
He vowed he would fix all this… later. When he had her alone. After work. Suddenly, all his doubts about the foolishness of befriending her, of taking her to tea, flew away. If he could give her some small measure of comfort in person…
A pop in the air and a small flash of light echoed throughout the bathroom.
Holy angels of light…
Oriel had appeared at his side, causing Tajael to nearly jump out of his skin. His angel blade was half drawn before he realized who it was. Charlotte was looking all around the bathroom, but she couldn’t see them with their cloaking. Oriel was close enough to be inside Tajael’s magical cloak—and thus they were visible to one another. Tajael sensed when Oriel quickly raised an auditory shield around them.
Which left Tajael free to vent his anger. “For the love of magic! Do you want me to stick a blade in you? You could have been shadowkind.”
“I know, I know.” But Oriel was distracted, watching Charlotte. “Is she ill?”
“Merely upset. As am I. With you.”
Oriel chuckled, but his humor died when he saw the Wrath on Tajael’s face. “My friend, I wouldn’t barge in on your Guarding without cause.”
“Well, let’s have it, then.” Tajael was afraid Charlotte would be done with her momentary retreat, and he didn’t want Oriel tagging along for the rest of the evening. Especially if she’d had enough of work, and it was time to leave.
“You seem distraught.” Oriel’s expression trained back on Tajael.
“As I just said.”
“Perhaps I could spell you again. Markos is unaware that I’m—”
“No, I do not need a break. I need you to explain yourself and be gone.”
Oriel frowned and leaned back a little.
Tajael realized the harshness of his words. “I’m sorry. Please, Oriel, just tell me your purpose.”
“Well, my purpose was to bring news.” Oriel frowned deeper. “But now I’m more concerned for you.”
“I am fine.”
Oriel appeared vastly unconvinced.
“All right, I am not completely fine,” Tajael admitted with a sigh. “In Truth, Patience is not my strongest Virtue at the moment.”
“And Chastity?” Oriel asked with a pointed look at Charlotte.
It caught Tajael off guard enough that his mouth worked without an answer for a moment too long.
Oriel’s eyebrows rose.
“I struggle with that as well,” Tajael ground out. An understatement to be sure. “I’m not at my finest. I recognize this, Oriel. But I’m committed, without question, to protecting my charge.”
“Even from yourself?”
>
Again, his friend left him speechless. Was he a danger to Charlotte? No. He felt sure of that. If he were lost in Lust, uncontrollable in Wrath, or any other loss of Virtue sent him tumbling into shadow, he would have the presence of mind to flee. To run from her. Of this, he was certain.
“Especially from myself,” he said with conviction.
Oriel’s expression opened further, but he gave Tajael a slow nod. “I am glad to hear it. For we have lost one Guardian already.”
Tajael’s shoulders dropped. “Who?” Even if he didn’t know the angeling personally, he already felt it as a strike against his heart.
“Naphtali, Patience Faction,” Oriel said. “She was on loan to Markos. Did you know her?”
“Only by reputation.” Tajael frowned. “She was at least three hundred years old, wasn’t she? And Guarding most of that time, I thought.”
Oriel nodded. “And yet she Fell.” It was a warning. Tajael could hear it in his voice. He was barely a hundred years with nowhere near as much Guarding experience, at least not officially. Then again, he’d been to the shadow realm, and his Penance time after that, whereas most angelings knew little more than the Dominion in which they lived.
“Did she Fall from Lust?” Tajael asked, although he was sure of the answer.
“The temptation of her young scientist was too much.” Oriel arched an eyebrow at Charlotte. She was splashing her face with water.
Tajael frowned. “What happened?”
“She kissed him.”
“Just a kiss?” Although Tajael remembered that was all it took for his friend Erelah to Fall. She made her way back, but still… she was made of more Virtuous stock than Tajael.
“Apparently.” Oriel frowned. “Markos has sent another female in her place.”
“He’s doing it on purpose. Tempting them.” Tajael seethed, Wrath threatening him once again. It was one thing to ask an angeling to take such a risk voluntarily, to test the limits of what might be possible for angelkind in this new day, but as a duty? With these particular human scientists so in need of Guarding?
