The Guardian

by Elicia Hyder

  “We’re in North Carolina. The Father closed the spirit line, so Samael can’t see us.” I called out to the spirit world again. “Samael, I need you to get someone on the ground to call Azrael and tell him our helicopter went down somewhere over the border in North Carolina. We were in the air for about ten minutes, and we’re in the woods now. That’s all I know.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “And tell them Fury’s safe. The pilot is dead. Natural causes.”

  “I’ll tell them. Who was the pilot?”

  “Flint McGrath.”

  “I’ll keep an eye out for him.”

  “Roger that.” I dropped my hand to my side. “Samael is letting them know we went down. Azrael will send help. If they don’t find us by sundown, I’ll fly us back to civilization. Don’t worry.”

  “Warren Parish, have you ever known me to worry about anything?”

  I shook my head. “I can honestly say I’ve never known you that well.”

  “Touché.” She pointed uphill. “We need to climb to find the wreckage. Unless you want to fly around and scout the place out.”

  “Too risky. I can walk.”

  She started up the mountainside. I followed, but after a few steps, my head swirled with dizziness again. I stopped. So did she.

  “You OK?”

  “The migraine makes me dizzy.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “And I think I lost some blood internally myself.”

  Not surprising with broken ribs and a punctured lung. I coughed and spat more blood on the ground. Then I started up the mountain again.

  Fury was ten steps ahead of me, and for a second, I was thankful for the migraine starbursts distorting my vision. Because of them, I wasn’t tempted to stare at her ass.

  We walked for a while in silence, until I noticed Fury shaking her head.

  “What is it?”

  “All he wanted to do was protect me, and I’ve been such a bitch about it.”

  It was clear the silence wasn’t good for her psyche. No demon in the world was more powerful than a head full of regret with time and silence to dwell on it.

  As much as my head and body hurt, I needed to fix this. Fast.

  “How did Azrael and Flint meet?” I asked.

  The swift U-turn in conversation made her stop. “What?”

  “Azrael and Flint. How did they meet?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “How would I?” It’s not like she’d ever told me.

  “I figured you’d know it from the memories in Azrael’s blood stone.”

  “I remember a little about him, but I haven’t worn the blood stone in a long time. It’s kinda like trying to remember details from a book you read in high school.”

  She started up the mountainside again. “They met in eighty-three when the US invaded Grenada. Operation Urgent Fury, which is kinda where I got my nickname.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I was five. There were Nerf guns and old war stories involved. The name stuck.”

  “That’s funny.”

  “Flint was a pilot for the Navy. When he got out, Azrael asked him to move to Chicago where he and your mom were living. Not long after, Nadine found out she was pregnant with you.”

  “How did you and Anya wind up with them?” I’d learned a few of the basics from Reuel, but Fury and I were on a roll of getting to know each other—or at least of me getting to know her—and I wanted to keep the momentum going.

  “A few years after everything happened with you and your mom, Flint and his wife, Sheryl, got pregnant. There were complications, and the baby died at birth. Six months later, Reuel rescued me and Anya from a hunting cabin in Wyoming, and Azrael asked Flint and Sheryl to take us in. They did, and Azrael moved them to the property he’d bought in New Hope, North Carolina.”

  “Claymore.”

  “Yep. Flint helped get it off the ground.”

  “So your mom is Sheryl?”

  “No. Sheryl was awful to me and my sister. She left when we were still really little. Flint raised us by himself.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “What makes sense?”

  “Why you’re such a hardass.”

  She spun around so fast I instinctively ducked out of the reach of her fist. Her mouth opened to probably object, but her eyes snagged on something in the distance. “There it is.”

  I turned and squinted against the painful sunlight to see black smoke rising through the trees about a half a mile away. She walked past me back down the mountain we’d partially climbed. Neither of us spoke again until we reached the crash site.

  The only thing recognizable from the helicopter was its tail. Claymore was still legible in its shiny gold print. The thick trees had shredded the cabin and snapped off the tail. What was left lay in a smoking heap between two tall, gangly spruces.

  A few feet beyond the wreckage was a silvery figure.

  Flint.

  I put my arm out to stop Fury. “Maybe you should wait here.”

  “You see him, don’t you?”

  I gave a slight nod.

  Fury could see angels and their power, but she was blind to human souls. I started forward, but she grabbed my sleeve. “I’m coming with you.”

  I didn’t argue because me and my aching head would need her help to safely pick the way through the debris field.

  “Warren.” Fury stopped, looking down at one of the black doors.

  The silver hilt of my sword gleamed through the busted window. I pulled it out, then drove the blade into the ground until I could find its scabbard.

  Flint was watching us. Smiling.

  The more violent the death, the more effect it had on the soul. So I was right; Flint had died before the aircraft hit the ground. “He didn’t suffer,” I whispered to Fury.

  “Tell him—” Emotion choked her. “Tell him I’ll miss him.”

  It was hard for me to believe that Fury could miss anyone. Her heart was battle-hardened and off-limits. God knows, I’d tried my damnedest to sway it. But in that moment, tears sparkled in her eyes. Maybe she was softer than I gave her credit for.

  Flint was standing near his body, now charred from the engine fire. As I walked over, I unbuttoned my black shirt and peeled it off, leaving my white undershirt. I carefully stepped through the wreckage, and when I was close enough, I draped the shirt over Flint’s head and torso.

  He didn’t notice.

  “Flint?” I approached his spirit cautiously. “Remember me?”

  “I could never forget you, Warren. I’m glad we finally were able to meet.”

  “So am I. I’m sorry we didn’t meet sooner, but we’ll have plenty of time together in Eden.”

  “Eden.” He smiled.

  “You’ll love it there.”

  “I know I will.” His eyes drifted past me. “I’ll miss her though.”

  “She said to tell you that she’ll miss you too.”

  “Promise me you’ll take care of her.”

  I glanced back at Fury. “I don’t know, Flint. She has a habit of being the one taking care of me.”

  When I looked back at him, his face was serious. “Let her.”

  I blinked.

  “And bring her back from Nulterra alive, Warren. I know she’s too stubborn to stay home, but she has a long life ahead of her.”

  I nodded. “I will.”

  “I know you will. Ask her to come here.”

  I turned and motioned Fury forward. She carefully walked up on my left side. His eyes followed her. He reached toward her face, and she shuddered when his fingertips graced her cheek.

  “I love her so much.”

  “He says he loves you,” I repeated quietly.

  That time, she couldn’t fight the tears. She also couldn’t—or wouldn’t—respond, which (dickishly) made me feel a little better about the time I’d said those words and she’d walked out.

  Now, she forced a smile and nodded her head.

  I let my power bu
ild in my right hand. It sparkled and sizzled. “You ready to go home, Flint?”

  “Will it hurt?”

  I shook my head. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

  “Give my love to Anya. I know you’ll find her,” Flint said.

  “I’ll tell her.” I took a deep breath. “You ready?”

  He bowed his head.

  Then I sent Flint’s soul into the spirit world.

  Fury took a walk through the woods while I sifted through the scorched rubble. Using my power, I moved a piece of a propeller off my scabbard. Then I bent and picked it up.

  When Fury finally returned, her face was clean, and she’d obviously stripped down somewhere in the woods and washed off the dirt and pine needles.

  “Feel better?” I asked.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said, void of all emotion. Her eyes told a different story. They were red and puffy from crying.

  But I knew better than to draw attention to them. “I have some bad news,” I said instead.

  She stepped over a log. “What is it?”

  I lifted what was left of my rucksack’s strap. “My passport was in the front pocket.”

  “What’s in the man purse then?” She nodded toward Cassiel’s bag across my chest, the only thing that had survived from the rucksack.

  I glared at her.

  She put her hands up. “I’m sorry. What’s in your satchel?"

  “I really have no idea. An angel gave it to me in case of emergency.”

  “Was that angel Cassiel?”

  I wondered how much Fury knew about Cassiel. “Yeah, but that’s not the point. The point is, my passport was in the backpack. Flying commercial will be a problem.”

  She shrugged. “Chimera can get you a new one pretty fast.”

  “You know, I can leave North Carolina and warp there.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “So is this the moment you become afraid of flying, like your dad?”

  “Seriously?” I gestured around at the wreckage. “Do you see where we’re standing? This is what happens when we get on aircraft. Besides, I don’t need a plane to fly.”

  “So why warp? Why don’t you flap your arms all the way to the Philippines?”

  “I’d get tired.”

  She grinned, a welcome sight after the trauma she’d just been through. “We’ll figure it out tonight.”

  We picked through more smoldering remains from the wreckage.

  “Got the blood-stone case,” she announced, kicking one of the windows off of it. She opened it, and the cuffs glistened against the sunlight. “They’re OK.”

  “Excellent,” I said, sarcastically. I crouched down and moved a large scrap of metal off what used to be her rifle case. “Can’t say as much for your case.” I opened what remained of its lid. “Or the Remington. The barrel is melted.” I tried to pick it up, but it was still too hot to touch. “Hey, is it true you gave up shooting when you were pregnant with Jett?”

  She didn’t answer. When I looked over, she was hugging a vintage thermos to her chest. It must have belonged to Flint.

  I stood and carried the rifle over to our pile of stuff to keep.

  “What’d you say?” she finally asked.

  “Not important. Have you found your passport?”

  “Yeah. It was in a separate bag from my clothes, which didn’t survive.”

  “Clothes are replaceable.”

  “Yeah. How’s your head?”

  “Still hurts, but it’s better since I used my power to—” I stopped.

  “To send Flint into the spirit world?”

  I nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s kinda nice that his last act on Earth was to make someone feel better.”

  “Aw, look at you being sentimental and shit.”

  She cracked a smile and held up her middle finger.

  When we’d recovered anything salvageable, Fury carried her things up the hill behind me, plopped down near a tree, and leaned back against it.

  I lay down across the tree trunk, bending my arm around Cassiel’s satchel behind my head. I laid my sword beside me and rested one boot on the ground.

  Staring up, pine peaks framed the clearing made by the crash. Smoke wafted up into the blue sky. Unfortunately, the migraine was strengthening again. I closed my eyes and focused on the sounds of the forest.

  The rippling of the stream.

  The song of a mockingbird.

  The sizzle of dying embers.

  Sleep crept over me like a breeze. Welcome relief from the swelling pain in my head and the chaos of the day. For a moment, I dipped into the welcome abyss of unconsciousness.

  Then I was falling.

  Falling.

  My hip smacked the ground beside the log, jolting me awake.

  Somewhere behind me, Fury was snickering. I pushed myself up in the dirt and pine needles. Pain splintered through my skull again. With a groan, I slumped against the log and curled my arm around my throbbing head.

  “That was hilarious,” I heard Fury say.

  “The reason I ever cared for you eludes me more and more,” I grumbled, which only made her laugh more.

  Far away, the pulse of helicopter blades echoed against the Appalachians.

  Pulling my head up, I looked at my tactical watch. The face had cracked. If the time was still correct, we’d been in the woods for over three hours. “Someone’s coming,” I said.

  “Who?”

  I raised both my hands in question, then covered my eyes again.

  A few minutes later, the roar of a helicopter overhead made me look up. I shielded my eyes with my hand and could make out a man sitting on the helicopter’s outboard.

  He waved. I waved back. Then he dropped something. It was a radio on a parachute.

  The radio landed close to Fury. She stood and went over to pick it up. I strapped my sword on my back and joined her as the helicopter hovered above.

  She held the radio to her mouth. “That was fast. Couldn’t resist bringing the new toy, huh?”

  New toy? It hurt my head too much to try to look at the helicopter against the sunlight.

  “We were actually testing it out when we got the call that you jokers were stuck out here. Is everybody whole?”

  “Warren and I are both fine. We bailed out before it crashed. Our pilot is dead.”

  Her words were shockingly matter-of-fact, but I didn’t miss the way her shoulders slumped.

  “There’s nowhere for us to safely land for miles, so how do you want to do this? Good old-fashioned extraction? I’d love to get nut-to-nut with Warren.”

  “Is that Nathan?” I asked with a laugh.

  “Yeah.”

  I held my middle finger toward the sky.

  “What do you want to do?” she asked.

  “Depends. How much do you trust me?”

  She smiled and pressed the button on the side of the radio. “Open the door. We’re coming up.” Then she hooked the radio onto her belt.

  We gathered as much stuff as we could carry, and I looked over the wreckage once more. “You got everything you need?”

  “We’re supposed to leave him here?” Her eyes misted as she stared past me.

  I put my hand on her arm. “I’ll make sure they send a team right away to take care of him. Does he have other family?”

  “Only some extended relatives, but no one I even know how to get in touch with.”

  “I’m really sorry,” I said gently.

  She nodded. Then she shook off all semblance of emotion. “Where do you want me?”

  Tricky question. “On top,” I finally said with a loaded grin.

  Rolling her eyes, Fury stood in front of me and wrapped her arms around my neck, holding the blood-stone case against my back. She lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t get any ideas.”

  “Can’t promise that.”

  With a little jump, she locked her legs around my waist. It was all I could do not to shudder with unintentional delight. I tightened my rig
ht arm around her hips and curled my left around her back.

  “Hang on,” I said in her ear.

  My wings carried us into the air.

  The “new toy” was the assault version of the Little Bird helicopter. There were no back seats, only an outboard mounted above the skids. Fury and I strapped ourselves to it. Someone wearing a helmet was seated on the other side.

  NAG, real name, Mandi, was in the pilot’s seat.

  Nathan McNamara was in the copilot’s seat. He handed us headsets. “Welcome back, brother,” he said when I had mine on. He smiled over his shoulder. The patch on the front of his olive-drab ball cap said “TOO OLD FOR THIS SHIT” in all caps.

  “Good to see you, Nate.” I jerked my thumb behind me. “Who’s on the other side?”

  “Wings,” SF-12’s second pilot answered for himself. “You didn’t really think we’d let McNamara dangle out of this thing, did you?”

  “I’d hate for my life to depend on it,” Fury said, looking down at the treetops as we rose higher into the sky.

  “Screw you all.” Nathan held his middle finger over his head. “Hey, Warren, how do you like the new ride? We call it the Angry Bird.”

  “It’s badass. Why’d you buy it?”

  “Az insisted. He bought a few of them.”

  Worrisome. These types of helicopters were used for combat, and he hadn’t said anything to me about it. “What’s he planning for?”

  “Everything,” Nate and NAG said at the same time.

  NAG looked out the side window as she turned the helicopter around. “He’s preparing for almost every scenario.”

  “Anybody else concerned about that?” Fury asked.

  No one answered.

  “Is he back in Asheville?” I asked.

  “He is now,” Nathan said over the comms. “He was in Black Mountain when the call came in about you. What made your ride go down?”

  Fury answered before I could. “Our pilot suffered a medical emergency. He died before the crash.”

  “Who was it?” Wings asked.

  “New guy. Don’t remember his name,” she lied.

  It was clear she didn’t want to talk about it, so I moved the conversation along. “Nate, how’s my baby girl?”

  “She’s awesome. Such a funny kid.”

  “I think she called out to me through the spirit world yesterday.”

  He turned his face toward me. “Really?”