"Your concerns are noted, Gabriel. I will take them under advisement. She is correct, however. I couldn't move. Something in that building kept me from reaching into the Ark. Had Baylin not been with me, we would have never gotten out. So in this instance, she was an asset, not a hindrance. I would appreciate it if you would stop insulting someone who has done her best to help us and so far has asked for nothing in return."
Gabriel shrugged, tucking the relics away safely in a shroud before turning back to them. "Suit yourself, esiasch. When you're thinking clearly again, ask yourself why the Rod, a force for good, marked her as unworthy. Food for thought. If that's all, I have things to do, lives to ruin."
"Oh, you may find this interesting. Rumor has it a town in Australia is home to their very own miracle worker. A few papers got a hold of the story and ran it, but no one seems to be giving any credence to it yet. Still, the stories seem legit. People are beginning to worship this man, and we all know where false idols lead. Last I heard, they're somewhere along the Bloomfield River. You might want to look into it. Just a suggestion."
"I really dislike him."
Baylin's voice was soft, her hand sliding easily into his as she leaned against him. He knew she didn't feel well, as she hadn't seemed like the type to want physical comfort before, yet she was reaching for it now.
Attempting to console her as best as he could, he wrapped his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin as he held her silently for a few long moments. Eventually, she pulled away, seeming to gather her strength to build the impenetrable wall back around herself.
"We might as well get going. We can rest overnight in Australia before we start searching for this healer. I think a good night's sleep will do us both good, don't you?"
He wasn't really tired, perks of his now mixed genetics. He hadn't realized until now that Baylin was developing dark circles under her eyes. He needed to pay more attention. "A good night's sleep it is, darling."
Chapter Seventeen
A wildlife lodge was the perfect retreat. Secluded and off the beaten path, he was able to manifest money to pay the host for its use quickly, ensuring he and Baylin would be given their privacy. Winding steps lead to a circular shaped domain high above the ground, likely to dissuade animals from creeping around at night, as it was near the mouth of the river. They'd already been warned not to wander at night, due to curious saltwater crocs that might be roaming about. Noted.
Once inside, Baylin had immediately curled up in the large bed and fallen fast asleep. Raziel had taken the liberty of removing her shoes and tugging a blanket around her before retreating to the small balcony. Staring out into the darkness, he let the sounds of nature soothe him, the calls of animals in the rain forest canopy lulling him into a quiet contemplation of the mission so far.
They still didn't know how many artifacts they were seeking. How many items did it take to earn your way into Heaven? Was there a set number, or were they just making this up as they went along? He had to assume there was some end goal in place, but why hadn't he been told what it was? Not knowing worried him more than anything else. He couldn't ask Baylin to continue if he didn't know if this would ever be finished. He'd have to let her go.
Why that caused a pang of regret and heartache, he didn't want to examine too closely just yet. She'd grown on him. Perhaps, as Gabriel had insinuated, he really did have a thing for the damsels. Though he failed to see how Baylin fit that criteria in any way, shape, or form. She'd likely harangue him with her barbed tongue for thinking anything of the sort. The thought shouldn't make him smile, yet it did.
Raziel must have dozed there in the cool night breeze, as the next thing he knew, a sharp cry had woken him. The sound of soft whimpers followed it, forcing him to get to his feet to go find out what was happening, blades in hand. Unable to find an enemy or target, he finally focused on Baylin. Curled on the bed, her hair was splayed over the pillows, face pinched in pain. She was shifting under the blanket, as if trying to pull away from something, but nothing was there.
Concern filled him. Was this a side effect from her touching the Rod of Aaron? He'd never forgive himself if she was hurt because she had been attempting to save them. When he saw a crystalline tear track down her cheek, he cursed under his breath.
Stripping to his jeans and T-shirt, he lifted the blanket to crawl into the bed behind her, wrapping his arms securely around her before drawing her tighter into his embrace. Whispering softly, he wasn't even aware of what he was saying, just that keeping his tone at a comforting level seemed to be helping as she'd stopped kicking so much.
Brushing loose tendrils of hair from her face, he sighed. He didn't know demon or human genetics. He wasn't sure if this was normal, or if it was a common sickness either species occasionally had. Raziel was truly helpless at the moment. Did he offer warm liquids? Medication? A hot bath? Something else? There wasn't exactly an angelic manual for dealing with these kinds of situations.
Without any other direction to go in, he continued to simply hold her, allowing her to burrow against him for comfort as she needed to. He could feel the dampness of tears on his shirt when she turned to press her face against his chest, could feel her muscles tensing up with each attack of whatever this was. He just didn't know how to stop it.
He stayed like that for hours wide awake, until the tenseness seemed to ease from her, some of the tight lines smoothing from her face. Once he verified she had settled back into a more restful sleep, he allowed himself to begin to relax as well. He had never actually fallen asleep with a woman in his arms. He'd assumed he'd have problems with it, that he'd be uncomfortable. Shockingly, Raziel found that he liked it more than he'd expected.
Baylin's curves fit snugly against him, her warmth seeming to seep into his very soul, or what was left of it. The soft murmurs she made relaxed him further, drawing him under her spell as surely as if he was being drawn into a spider's snare. Except with her, he wasn't sure he wanted to escape it. She was far more dangerous to his senses than he realized. Gabriel was right, he should have let her go.
Raziel wasn't sure he could at the moment. They slept like that for hours, wrapped around each other. Every once in awhile, she'd stir before she'd begin crying again, bunching the sheets in her fists as she trembled against him.
Each time, he held her tighter, whispering soothing words to her as he stroked his fingers through her hair and over her arms. Every time she settled, he hoped it would be the last, but he knew it wouldn't be. Something was wrong, he just didn't know what.
Just after three, she developed a fever. Her skin was burning up, sweat beading on her brow. She mumbled in her sleep as she tossed and turned, clearly uncomfortable even as she shivered until her teeth chattered. She was shivering, so that meant she was cold. Yet she was also sweating and her skin was hot to the touch.
Raziel wasn't sure what the appropriate action was here. Eventually, he ended up wrapping the blankets tighter around her, while putting a cool washcloth across her forehead. He hoped it would break the fever a bit while also keeping her from shivering so much.
It bothered him that he was so hopeless, that he didn't know the best way to help her. He wanted to protect her, but without the knowledge to do so, he couldn't know if he was just making things worse.
Tucking her against his chest again, he ran his hand up and down her back, waiting until she seemed to settle before he dared to close his eyes again. He had no doubt she'd stir soon enough, he'd take whatever rest he could get in between the bouts of sickness she was experiencing.
While he couldn't do anything to really help, at least she'd know he'd been there beside her and she hadn't been alone. It was all he could offer her. Lacing his fingers with hers, he pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. "Sleep for me, Baylin."
And sleep, she did. When Raziel woke again, his arms clutched nothing but air. The first tendrils of dawn were beginning to spread across the hardwood flooring, turning the deep wood stain to a burnished gold as the
sun rose. Blinking, he sat up, glancing around. Hearing the sound of water running, he slid from the bed to go in search of his wayward female. She shouldn't be up and moving, not without supervision, at the very least.
Her squeak of alarm as he poked his head into the bathroom would have been funny had he not been so worried. Once he'd clarified she was safe, Raziel was sent out of the room with strict orders that he was not allowed to come in again. Apparently, sleeping beside her when she was sick was permissible. Stepping into the room when she was having a bath, not allowed. Duly noted.
Sprawling back on the bed, he wiped an exhausted hand over his face. She did seem a bit better this morning. While he still had no idea what had come over her, he was glad to see the worst seemed to have passed overnight. He hadn't slept much, he was too busy keeping an eye on her. Angels didn't need much, but he supposed Leviathans did, as he was feeling a bit worn himself now. At least, until Baylin exited the bathroom, clad in only a towel and a shy smile.
Chapter Eighteen
Clearing his throat, he turned his head in the other direction to be a gentleman if she needed to get a fresh change of clothing from her bag or something like that. When he didn't hear her moving, he risked another glance her direction. He found her looking at him speculatively, hands toying with the hem of the towel cinched above her breasts. If she was attempting to kill him, this was a good way to achieve it.
"Raziel? Look at me."
When he fully focused on her, she slowly untied the knot she'd made in the terry cloth, letting the towel fall to pool around her feet. His throat went dry, eyes widening as he took in the graceful sweep of her hips, the rounded swell of her belly. Unlike Tarin, Baylin was all womanly curves and soft flesh, like a Ruben painting brought to life.
"What... what are you doing, Baylin?"
He was ashamed to admit he had to pause and clear his throat halfway through the question, his gaze remaining rapt on her as she took a few steps closer to the bed. She was stunning and every part of him ached to reach out and claim her, to take what she was clearly offering. Yet he knew better. She was off-limits. Women in general were off-limits.
He'd been down that road and was trying to make his way back again, he didn't need another distraction. And Baylin could be a helluva distraction. At least, that's what his mind told him. His body had other ideas, reacting instantly to her presence with almost painful intensity.
"What does it look like I'm doing? I took a bath, and now I'm going to crawl back in bed. With you. If you have any objections to that, you should probably voice them now. Or, never. Never's good for me." With that, she put action behind the words, crawling onto the bed and tugging half of the covers over to slide beneath them with him.
Fresh from the bath, she was so incredibly warm as she nestled up against him that he froze, unsure of whether he should stay still or not. Finally, she reached around, pulling his arm over her waist so she could tuck herself even closer. He swore he could feel the goosebumps on her skin even through his own clothing. He knew this was wrong, but he couldn't summon up enough energy to care anymore.
Lowering his head, he pressed a soft kiss to the back of her shoulder, testing the waters, so to speak. When she sighed and tipped her head to give him more access, he took full advantage of it, pressing a line of kisses up her throat. Eventually, he caught her earlobe between his teeth, toying with the sensitive skin before tracing the curve of her ear with his tongue.
He relished the way she relaxed in his arms, the soft sighs that escaped her parted lips as he teased. She tasted like heaven, and for a former Archangel, that was saying something. Her skin was lightly fragranced with berries and almond, the heady scent filling his head as she twisted to capture his lips with her own.
The kiss started sweet, but quickly spiraled out of control, both of them fighting to keep the upper hand. The corners of his lips twitched before he cupped her jaw with one hand, finger and thumb digging in slightly. That was one battle his feisty female was going to lose.
Her tiny gasp was swallowed by his mouth as his tongue swept inside, exploring the taste and feel of her as she eagerly mimicked his movements, their tongues twining as their breaths mingled. She felt so perfect in his arms, it was like they were made to fit together, which could be a blessing or a curse.
They simply couldn't get close enough. With deft movements, he rolled her onto her back before he followed. Pulling her arms over her head, he captured them with one hand cinched around her wrists. The other curled around her throat as he was finally able to take full control of the kiss, not pulling back until her lips were red and swollen. The look was one he wanted to see on her far more often, if he could.
As she squirmed against him, he groaned out loud, the movements making him ache in response. All he wanted to do was strip bare and bury himself into her wet heat, seeking and finding the solace only she could give. He had no intentions of being a selfish lover, however, so his needs could wait as long as necessary. She had been sick, he was all too willing to show her tender care and affection to make up for it.
Leaving the luxury of her lips, he nibbled a path over her shoulders, drifting lower to nuzzle the valley between her breasts. Releasing her throat and wrists, he cupped them in his palms, thumbs lifting to brush against dusky nipples, teasing them to budded peaks.
Turning his head to curl his tongue over one, he couldn't stop a small smile from edging his lips as her fingers dug themselves into his hair, tugging insistently. In retaliation, he sank his teeth into the sensitive bud, almost laughing out loud at her squeak of indignation.
Soothing the sting with a slow glide of his tongue again, he moved over to pay the other the same amount of attention, persisting until both were taut peaks, strained and whisker-burned. He wasn't even ashamed of himself, either. His marks looked good on her pale skin, as if they were meant to be there. As if he was meant to be there.
Her legs twisted underneath them, lifting to dig her heels into the backs of his thighs as she arched against him. He knew if he was bare, he'd feel her heat against his lower stomach, her arousal glistening on his skin as she rocked against him. The thought almost drove a whimper from him, but he couldn't trust himself fully unclothed just yet.
Instead, he slid further down, pausing to taste the soft curve of her hip, to kiss a trail of passion up her inner thighs. The more he delayed what he wanted, the sweeter it would be. At least, that's what he continued telling himself.
She resisted only a moment, a gorgeous flush coloring her cheeks before she parted her thighs, allowing him to settle between them. The scent of berries and almond was stronger as she hadn't dried off completely before shedding the towel, drops of water still lingering on her skin.
Inhaling deep, he shivered in anticipation, before he bent closer, parting her folds with his tongue. The keening noise she made was absolutely exquisite. He wanted to hear more of it, so he set that as a goal he was determined to meet.
He couldn't get enough of her, he was like a man possessed. Which, technically, he was. Working in tandem, Raziel teased at her entrance with his fingertips, gaze intent on her face as he fluttered his tongue over her clit.
Letting her reactions guide him, he waited until she was tugging harder on his hair before he began tormenting her in earnest, fingers and tongue finding a smooth rhythm that quickly had her panting, hips lifting upward each time he retreated. She was beautiful this way, legs spread wide, knees drawn up. Dark hair splayed across the pillow as her mouth parted with her panting breaths. The best part was her eyes, the stunning bright blue fastened on him throughout it all.
Most women closed their eyes, or looked away. Even as a becoming blush highlighted her cheeks, she still kept her gaze rapt on him and his movements, as if too fascinated to look away. It was heady, and he found he reveled in it. Raziel wanted to watch her shudder, her mouth opened in a perfect cupid's bow as she cried out, eyes wide but unseeing.
He wanted his name on her lips, the taste and feel
of him washing away the pain and uncertainty of the sickness she'd just been through. He didn't know if it was possible, but he was more than willing to test the theory.
Redoubling his efforts, he felt her begin to twist under him, her thighs tensing. Hiding a smile, he switched from the fluttering motions of his tongue to wrapping his lips around her clit, sucking against it as dual fingers teased her inner walls, thrusting deep before twisting, seeking the tight bundle of nerves she'd never be able to fully reach on her own. Within moments, she threw her head back, eyes wide as she began to plead with him for more, to go faster.
The sound of her begging had his jeans becoming even tighter, he couldn't ignore it much longer. Giving in to her precious demands, he relished the way her back arched, bowing upwards as her hands left his hair to bunch the sheets in her fists.
The sound of her cries rang in the small room, echoing in his head like the sweetest symphony he'd ever heard, rivaling anything played above. She tasted like honey, like manna from Heaven. The heady scent of her release clung to his mouth and chin, not going unnoticed by her as he licked his lips, eliciting a low whimper in return.
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