by Hanna Peach
Alyx stared at him, not knowing what to say. His words filtered warmly through her body.
“I’m sorry about…” I’m sorry about Jordan, is what she meant to say, but she couldn’t bring herself to say his name in front of Israel. “Everything,” she finally settled on.
“Don’t be. I think we need this, this…time apart. I think we need this…air to pass between us before we can move on. We were so young, immature, when we first met. So our love was too. I don’t think we were ready for what we could be for each other. We’re not ready yet. But we will be. One day we’ll be ready to have the kind of love that is supposed to exist between us. One day. I know it. But not here. Not now.”
His fingers twisted into hers, and he leaned in to rest his forehead against hers.
She hadn’t realized she had done it, but she had slipped into his head, so she was surprised to hear his thoughts.
This isn’t our last sunrise, angel. I promise you.
It took her a moment to remember that their first kiss had been before a sunrise like this. “No,” she said, “I don’t believe it will be.”
He flinched before he gave her a lopsided grin. Now who’s slipping into my mind without my permission?
She shrugged. You seemed okay to do it to me.
Don’t test me, Alyx.
Why? she teased. What are you going to do if I don’t get out of your head?
A smile played at his lips, causing his scar to go white. From inside his head, she watched as he replayed a memory witnessed only by another sunrise, just like this one.
“What do they feel like, your scars?” she asked.
Her question surprised him. He searched her face for any sign that she was disgusted, but there was only a hungry curiosity in the way she kept glancing at his lips. For the first time in his life he wondered if his scars could be beautiful. “You want to touch them?”
“Oh. I didn’t mean that, I just−”
“Go on.”
He could see the hesitation on her face. Without thinking, his body moved like a magnet towards her until their legs were touching. “I want you to.”
Alyx nodded. He didn’t take his eyes off her glorious green ones, but in his periphery he could see her fingers moving up to his lips. They stopped before they touched him. By now he was barely breathing with anticipation. What was wrong? Why didn’t she touch him? Was she disgusted by his scar?
He glanced down only to see that her fingers were trembling. She was nervous. How…how could it possibly be that this gorgeous creature who has probably had a thousand men in her lifetime begging her to touch them, be nervous?
Her cheeks flared a light pink and she snatched her hand away. He caught it out of instinct.
Alyx’s eyes widened and she felt her breath quicken. “Israel, what are you doing?”
He continued with the memory.
He pulled her palm to his cheek before tracing the skin of her forearm. God, she was the softest thing he had ever felt. Would she be this soft everywhere? At the same time her fingers moved across his lips, and finally the tip of her finger nuzzled at his scar, the most sensitive spot on his mouth.
His eyes fluttered closed as he stifled a moan. He would scare her if she knew how incredible it felt to have her touching him. He sensed that she moved and a light shadow crossed his eyelids, causing his eyes to flutter open.
She was right there. Right. There. Her mouth was right. There.
He moved towards her before he remembered that she had turned her head the last time he tried to kiss her. He watched her, expecting the same reaction.
But she didn’t turn away. She pressed her mouth to his, lightly, her finger caught between the corners of their mouths. Her kiss was so light, he could barely believe it was real. He made a noise in his throat.
She pulled away and his heart ebbed with loss. If that was all he could have from her, it would have to be enough. Heavens above. He had been kissed by an angel and it would be enough, if that was all he was ever allowed to have. His eyes opened, and he was struck again by the perfection of her face. He already had it memorized. But it seemed that it would always stun him, like it stunned him now.
“Alyx...”
But then she stunned him by kissing him again. This time it was a real kiss, hesitant at first with its hunger. Until all hesitance fell away.
The memory faded, replaced with Israel’s memory of that night.
In their makeshift bedroom in the theater, Israel leaned down to rest his forehead on hers. Partly to stay close to her, partly to try and stop his head from spinning. He felt drunk off her kisses.
“You need to be sure,” he said to her.
He would die if sleeping with him was something she would regret. He was happy just to have her near him tonight. Just to be close enough to smell her. Just to hold her, touch his mouth to her lips. That would be enough for him.
Alyx traced his collarbones with her fingers. The touch was so light, he could hardly bear it.
“I am sure,” she said. “I want you. And I want you to have me. All of me.”
Oh my God.
Israel dove his mouth to hers, drinking in the taste of her before pulling away. He slipped his fingers under her shirt and he felt her soft skin under his fingers. Jesus. Slow down. He had to slow down. She lifted up her arms. He pulled her shirt up off her, forcing himself to take his time. He dropped her shirt and stared.
She was perfect. So perfect it hurt.
She moved to cross her arms over herself, once again surprising him with how unsure of herself she was. But he caught her hands.
“You have no reason to hide.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to her shoulder, neck, and ear. “You are so...painfully beautiful.”
She shivered against his mouth. That little motion triggered something in him. He needed her hands on him. And he needed it now. He pulled her palms to his chest and encouraged them down his stomach. Starting out curious, soon her hands became greedy across his body. Lord help him, he was about to lose his flipping mind.
Screw going slow.
His lips took hers, his hands tore at the rest of his clothes and hers. He pulled her against him, skin on skin. As he pushed into her body he knew he had just found heaven.
On the balcony, Alyx felt her body heat as she experienced their first night together through Israel’s eyes. Her fingers dug into the balustrade and she rocked back on her heels, a gasp escaping her lips. She didn’t remember when she had closed her eyes but they were now squeezed shut.
When his memory was over she felt drowsy. Her eyelids flickered open and she saw Israel’s hooded eyes watching her. They weren’t touching but they were so close that she could feel the heat rolling off his body.
“Now you know,” Israel said, his breathing now also labored, “how you look when you’re turned on.”
* * *
Jordan couldn’t help but watch them from the corridor; Alyx and Israel, standing together on the balcony through this open door. They barely touched and they weren’t speaking, but he could feel the connection vibrating between them and see their chests rising and falling in time with the other. He knew he was intruding on a private moment.
“It’s always obvious when you see two people who are meant to be together, isn’t it?”
Cleo. The nosy mortal had walked up to him so silently that he hadn’t noticed her presence till she spoke. Now that he knew she was there, he couldn’t help but notice the outline of her body as it occupied the space next to him. She leaned closer to peek through the doorway, and her hair brushed against his arm.
“I don’t see it,” Jordan muttered back to her.
“Yes you do. You just don’t want to admit it to yourself.”
“Why would I even care?”
She let out a soft laugh. “Jordan, you may shield yourself from most of the world, but I see you. You care about her, maybe you’ve convinced yourself that you love her. But you’re chasing after something that is impossible. S
he belongs to someone else. Which means you can’t truly ever get close to her, and it means you can’t ever truly get hurt.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” He felt her dark eyes, those eyes that saw too much, staring at him. He refused to meet those eyes. “Look at you, you tragic hero. Watching her with him while secretly believing she belongs with you. She isn’t the One, Jordan.”
“She may have been.”
“No.” Cleo shook her head. “She was the one who had to open your heart to the possibility of the One. She was the one to show you that you wanted the One. But she is not the One.”
“Since when are you the guru of all things about love?”
“I worked at Purgatory for almost an age.”
Jordan scoffed. “That only means you know about sex. Not love.”
She gave him a sad smile. “Sometimes they aren’t so separate. Sometimes people turn to sex when really all they are looking for is love.”
Jordan swallowed. He said nothing as Cleo walked away. He let his eyes rest upon Alyx’s form once more before he told her the goodbye that she would never hear. Then he turned and walked away.
Chapter 24
Two days…
Yael’s head was killing him. What had started so many years ago as an occasional low throb had eventually turned into migraines that threatened to push him over the edge. Tonight on this patrole night, well, it was just gonna be one of those nights.
“I’ll see you back here before dawn,” he growled out to Do’hann, Stantanople and Jerome, another one of the warriors in their flock. The four of them had been walking the rooftops of Saint Joseph looking for something to kill.
Despite the protocol to have at least two warriors together at all times during patrole, his flock buddies were used to him wandering off on his own. Which he did when the pain in his head got too intense. But he never told them about the headaches. What kind of wimp complains about a headache?
“Whatever,” Stantanople said. Without a second look back at him, Stan made the large leap across to the next building. Jerome followed Stan.
Do’hann paused for a second. “You alright, man?”
“I’m fine. Just tired of looking at your ugly face. Get the hell out of here.”
Great. His head hurt so much now he was lashing out at his friends as well. Well done, asshole.
Yael flew over the rooftops trying to let the fingers of the wind soothe the flames consuming his brain. For some reason, he found himself heading to the Burning Lovers Fountain of Saint Joseph, as he often did on nights like these. It was a white marble statue of a man tied to a stake with his female lover wrapped around him, their mouths closed in a last kiss while they were both being consumed by flames. He didn’t know why he liked this fountain. Secretly. But he did.
He landed quietly on a dark side of the square, making sure that no one was around to see him drop from the sky. He strode towards the fountain. He kneeled at the edge, thrusting his hands into the shallow pool of water that surrounded it and splashing his face. The water felt so good against his burning skin. Through the droplets falling from his hair, he thought he saw a figure in white walking towards him from the other side of the square. He rubbed his face and stood, his guard going up.
It was a seraphelle dressed in a long ankle-length dress that fluttered around her ankles. And she was walking towards him. His fingers hovered closer to his blade handles until she got close enough that he could see her face.
Oh my God. She was one of the most beautiful seraphelles he had ever seen. Golden hair that floated about her delicate face like a halo, a long body that moved like water and a soft warmth to her aura, like she was used to taking care of others her whole life. When she was close enough, he could see her eyes were a brilliant blue like two sparkling sapphires. She stopped right in front of him as he remained frozen to the spot.
A smile burst across her face, lighting up her eyes so that they sparkled in the moonlight. “It’s you,” she said.
Scratch that. She was absolutely the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Her smile radiated a complete joy, a complete joy that Yael had never ever remembered feeling himself. Her joy was precious. A fragile precious thing, and suddenly all he wanted to do was to keep her joy safe.
What the hell was he thinking? This was a Rogue. He shouldn’t be talking to Rogues.
“It’s me?” he grunted back. Yup, him. Gruff him. God, his voice sounded like the scratching of gravel next to her silverbell voice. He didn’t know what she was tripping on, but they couldn’t just stand around here like this. “Look, you really should just get out of here. I don’t want to hurt you,” he said as softly as he could so as not to scare her.
The seraphelle laughed as she peered at him. “You’d never hurt me.”
He frowned. She wasn’t scared of him. At all. Everyone was scared of him. Everyone. Even his two best friends Do’hann and Stantanople were scared of him. Oh no, they would never admit it, no. But he could see it sometimes flashing underneath their bravado. Only flashes. They weren’t about to admit that they were scared of him. But this creature…well, she obviously didn’t know any better.
“Listen, lady. My orders are to kill you Rogues on sight. So leave now and get away from me.”
“Oh Yael,” her voice broke.
She knew his name!
He was so shocked that he didn’t move as she lifted her hand to place it on his cheek. Holy mother of God. Her skin was so soft. Like a pillow. No, like silk. Hmmm, he had never actually touched silk. Soft like…
“What have they done to you, my love?” she whispered. “Don’t you recognize me? Is this why you never came?”
Her what? He grabbed her wrist firmly but not so tightly that he’d hurt her. “What are you talking about?”
“Yael,” her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s me, Siana.”
“We…we know each other?”
She nodded. “I can’t believe you’re here. We used to meet here, remember?” She glanced around them at the fountain and the square before her gaze came back to rest on him. “You came back here.”
“You’re mistaking me for someone else.”
“No. It’s you. Do you think I would forget your face?”
“How come I don’t know yours?”
“We’re in love, Yael. But they’ve done something to you to make you forget me.”
He pulled her close. “What kind of lies are you saying? I should kill you right here, right−”
“You don’t want to kill me. You told me once about the first time you were made to kill a Rogue. You told me that you cried that night in your pod when you were alone.”
Yael felt his face drain of blood. “I never told anybody about that.”
“I know. But you told me,” she said quietly. “You know me, Yael.”
“No.”
“Yes. You do. Don’t listen to your head. Listen to your heart.”
Something inside him wanted to trust her. His body whispered to him that he knew her; a familiar, comfortable feeling was washing over him. He felt like she would fit ever so beautifully against him.
God. What the hell was he thinking?
“This is this some kind of trick. You must have stolen that memory from me. An ambush.” He searched the area for dark shadows, but there were none.
“No, Yael. I’m not the one who took your memories. I risked everything for you. Gave up everything…” her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t believe you don’t remember me.”
A spear of guilt went through his gut. And his fingers loosened on her arms. One hand came up to brush awkwardly at her cheek. “Don’t cry,” he said gruffly.
“I left Michaelea so we could be together. You were supposed to meet me…but you never came. They did something to you. Yael, please, I’m telling you the truth.”
He peered at her. She must be crazy. Crazy. He would remember her if−
Her soft scent met his
nose, causing him to pause.
That smell.
That soft smell, was that her hair? Was it…familiar? He searched his memory for her but… “No. I don’t know you. I−” He cut himself off when a sharp throb seared through his brain. He squeezed his eyes shut and his whole body tensed, except his hands that were gripping her.
“My love, my Yael, what have they done to you?” He felt her free hand cup his face and her thumb brush at the crinkles around his eyes. The touch alone seemed to ease the pain. He opened his eyes.
“I have proof,” she said, her eyes glistening. “Please let me show you the proof.”
Yael watched her. Why didn’t he dismiss her? The way she looked at him…like he was her world. Like he was the bravest, strongest seraph of all time. Under her gaze he felt that he could conquer anything.
He wanted to believe her. No. He wanted to believe that a seraphelle like her − who looked like her, smelled like her, felt like her − would ever love someone like him. So he nodded. “Tomorrow night. Here. Same time. And Siana?” She lifted her chin up to him so she could look at him face to face. “If this is a trick, I will find you and I will kill you.” He paused. “This better not be a trick.”
* * *
Siana slipped into the bedroom at Tara, the farmhouse outside of Saint Joseph and a Rogue safehouse. There was nobody here, but she moved quietly anyway. For some reason she felt it would be better if no one knew she was here. Not that she was doing anything wrong, but…her new friend Lukas might disagree with her trying to contact Yael this way.
Lukas had said to her recently that they should never push for anyone to leave the society. They must do so under their own free will. But she knew that something had happened to Yael to cause him not to want to come after her. Seeing him again today and realizing that he had no memory of her made her heart cry with sadness and yet fill with such hope. Yael hadn’t come with her, not because he didn’t love her anymore, but because they did something to him to make him forget her. Yael had no free will.
