***
Keegan hugged Echo against him, never wanting the day to end. He had a nice thought that the two of them could enjoy a future together. Then he remembered. They lived in two different worlds. Despite the realization, his mind flooded with thoughts of the two of them sharing their lives. Maybe he could find a way for them to be together.
“Oh my Lord in Heaven. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long, but I can’t remember feeling this way before.” She sank her teeth into the meaty flesh of his shoulder and bit him playfully. “That was…that was…”
“Sinful?”
“Exactly.” She stretched languidly and sighed.
It seemed all his life he'd searched for a woman like her – one who put him before herself, who thought of him first beyond all else, and one who considered him an equal and not someone to be used to further personal objectives.
"I will never let you go, Echo."
He sensed her frowning at his declaration and intuitively knew what she would say.
“Keegan, it can never be anything more than the moments we share while I’m helping you. Once I complete this assignment, I’ll be returned to await my next task. You know that, don’t you?”
He knew he meant more to her than just another affair. No one could share what they just had and feel nothing. Maybe she didn’t know it yet, or maybe she did but wouldn’t admit it. Either way, Echo would declare her love for him before long.
To soothe her obvious misgivings, he said, “I know.”
Keegan wanted to know everything about her. Who she was before she became a herald. Surely, she wasn’t born one. Was there a vacancy in the herald division and she applied for the job? That question opened the door to other questions. How had the opening come about? Did heralds die? She said they suffered pain and bled. Maybe they had stronger defenses and immune systems and weren’t as susceptible to sickness as humans.
“Who’s Bonita?” she asked.
“A mistake.” Which reminded him to call his mother first thing in the morning, otherwise his mom, like Smith, would arrive on his doorstep. Then he'd have some explaining to do. He was thankful he had people in his life who cared for him the way they did. Sometimes, though, their concern became too much for him.
“Did you love her?” Echo asked, breaking into his thoughts.
“I thought I did.” He gave thanks to whoever was responsible for preventing him from making the mistake of marrying her. Truthfully, he hadn’t much luck with the opposite sex. They’d used him, pretended to love him, and left him. After he ended his relationship with Bonita, he'd sworn off women, believing celibacy was in his best interest. Perhaps it had been. If he were in a relationship now, he would not have been open to Echo. Feeling like he now did, that would have been a crying shame.
“What’s Smith’s full name?” she asked.
“Smith Smith.”
She rested her chin on his breast and looked at him. “You’re joshing.”
“’Fraid not.” He chuckled. “If you knew his parents, you’d understand.”
“Maybe I’ll get to meet them before I go.”
“Maybe." That spurred a horrible thought. "Not in the same way you met me, I hope." He relaxed when she shook her head. "Getting back to Smith, years ago his mother's family took on the custom to put "Smith" as a middle name of each of their first born. In Smith's mother's case, she married a Smith, no relation. When they were registering him, they realized his name would be Sherman Smith Smith. Well, that wouldn’t do, so they decided on Smith Sherman Smith, which, of course, translates to – ”
“Smith Smith.”
“You got it.” His mood turned sullen at the thought of her leaving him for God only knew where. “Have you ever been in love? The kind of love that leaves you blind; a love so deep that you would gladly give your life for him?” He believed in a love like that. In fact, he was certain he’d found it with Echo.
He felt her tense and suspected he’d brought up a painful subject. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dredge up sad memories.”
“It’s okay. It was a long, long time ago, and I hardly think of him anymore. When I do, it’s with regret that I became involved with him at all.”
“But isn’t it better to regret than wonder? Besides, we all make mistakes. The trick is to benefit from them. Who is he?” He wanted to wring the bastard’s neck for causing her pain.
“No one you know.” She giggled.
“Someone in your world? Another herald?”
“Uh-huh. He used me to further his goals. There was an opening in the upper echelon – a supervisory position – and he manipulated me into helping him win the election. I campaigned for him, selling him to the electorates, singing his praises, pleading his assets. I would have done anything for him.” She drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “He promised me paradise. He wasn’t in office two minutes before he threw me to the side like a busted trumpet.”
“He’ll get his one day.” He hugged her close. “They always do.”
“With good reason He frowns on inter-office romance. He’s right to. Both the affair and the after-shock of the break-up affected my work. It crushed me to be left with a fantasy rather than a reality, but other than that, no one got hurt – only by the grace of God, I’m sure – but I learned a very important lesson.”
He didn’t need to ask to know what she came away from that relationship with. Keegan would have to work very hard to make her believe they were destined to be together and that he would never hurt her. “Have you ever become involved with a charge?”
“No.”
Hearing that filled him with joy. That meant she liked him – perhaps really liked him. He knew she was attracted to him. Maybe that would lead to something more binding.
“My charges are the elderly. They’re either senile or Alzheimeric.”
That sucked the wind from Keegan’s pipes. He meant no more to her than a sexual object. A play toy. No. He wouldn’t believe that.
“What do you do for them; the deceased?” he asked around the catch in his throat.
“They have no sense of direction. I put them on the correct path.”
“Toward the light?”
She smiled lopsidedly. “That’s an old folks’ tale. I arrange for a loved one to meet them and escort them to their final resting place. First, though, they must walk part of the way, which is where they lose their balance.”
A chill came over him and his skin tingled; the same sensations he experienced when he became one of the undead. He felt someone watching him and lifted his head and looked around the dimly lit room, searching darkened corners and shadowy spaces through squinted eyes, but nothing jumped out at him.
He laid his head back on the pillow, still sensing eyes on him.
Prophesy Page 10
