Heaven Sent (Lupine Bay Book 1)

by Maribel Fox

  “I was not eager to make the same mistake again so soon. Well, I should not say ‘mistake.’ I do not believe swearing myself to you would be a mistake in any way, Ava, I want you to never doubt that. Though thumbing my nose at one ruler, only to immediately accept another… I am sure you can understand my hesitation.”

  “Of course,” I say quickly. “And I would never ask you to… I didn’t even— Kush and Seamus surprised the hell out of me with that little stunt and you shouldn’t feel like you need to follow suit.”

  Micah’s reserved smile is back, along with a soft chuckle from deep within his chest.

  “I have had more time to consider it, however,” he says, expression changing as he moves, shifting to a kneel, my hand in his.

  “Micah— You don’t have to—”

  “Ava, I swear myself to you and your court and all that entails, forsaking all other oaths given before this time.”

  The wave of magic that sluices through my veins is almost too much. It’s not the same punch to the gut as before, maybe because I’m expecting it, but it’s prickly and tingly all at once. Like a limb coming back to life after sitting in an awkward position too long, only it’s my whole body and shaking it off doesn’t do anything.

  “What about Heaven? The IRS?”

  Micah laughs, it’s not even a chuckle, it’s a full-belly laugh.

  “I have never worked for the IRS, Ava. It is the ERS — Eternal Retribution Service — and something I no longer wish to be a part of. As far as Heaven, I am more than happy to have fully committed to my final farewell to them before it is all over.”

  I don’t know what to say to that. It’s great, but it’s so much. Even more resting on this. Though from the sounds of it, Micah doesn’t expect to come out of this alive.

  I’m not sure any of them do.

  Which does wonders for my confidence, let me tell you.

  Out of nowhere — literally, out of nowhere — Raj appears, looking down at the two of us with an impatient look. I probably shouldn’t be surprised that he can teleport, but… he can teleport? Why did I not know this sooner?

  I mean, I guess it makes sense for getting back to another dimensional plane or whatever Hell is.

  I still can’t believe I’m thinking about all of this like it’s normal. This is going to take some serious adjustment.

  “What the hell, I can’t be left out again,” Raj says.

  “What?” I stand, though that doesn’t get me a whole lot closer to eye-level with him, since he’s nearly a foot taller than me.

  “Hell has overplayed their hand and believe they have complete control over me,” he says. “I have no desire to remain a servant to the leadership there. I had considered that spending my last days alive as a free man might be nice, but declaring myself to you is not the same, and I shouldn’t act like it is. My bitterness toward such oaths has nothing to do with you, and in fact, it is your lack of pressing for it that has convinced me how appropriate it is.”

  I frown.

  “You want to join my court to get back at Hell?” Not exactly flattering, though right now, maybe I should take what I can get and not grumble about it.

  Raj steps forward and slides his hands over my hips, fingers digging into my flesh.

  “I want to join your court because I am obsessed with you, and for however long I have left in the mortal realm, I wish to spend it utterly devoted to you and none other.”

  I swallow, the lump in my throat so tight it hurts when I do. Then I nod slowly.

  That’s a hell of a good reason, even I’ll say.

  “They will not allow you back in Hell,” Micah says sternly, and my mouth goes dry.

  “What about your family? Your parents… your sister?” I ask, throat tight. I want this. I want it even though I probably shouldn’t. In my heart these guys have all been mine for some time. But making it real? The connection that comes from the oath?

  How could I not want that?

  But I can’t be so selfish. Raj has so much more to consider.

  He shakes his head, kohl-lined eyes hypnotizing me as always. He says his powers don’t work on me, that Fae are immune, but I don’t feel immune when I’m standing her breathless and dizzy like this.

  “I have more than paid my due to my parents,” he says, mouth firm and hard. “And as for Lili… Something tells me I might have a better chance of finding out what happened to her by sticking around with you. I have little love left for Hell, and a great deal growing for you… And Ian… For Lupine Bay, even.”

  Without another word, Raj drops to one knee, bows his head over my hand, and presses my knuckles to his forehead.

  “I, Bali Raj, heir apparent to Donn Volos et Ravana, Duke of the Seven Flames, solemnly swear to defend, honor, and support Her Royal Highness, Queen Ava O’Gowan, her court, and all realms within her domain.”

  My knees buckle as the oath takes hold, and I’m trembling as Micah and Raj close in on either side of me, there to support me as the tremors wash through me.

  “Finally came ‘round, eh?” Seamus asks, approaching from the trees to clap Raj on the shoulder with a heavy hand. He probably found a perch to relax in while Micah was teaching me meditation tricks.

  “I think I’m ready to try the plant thing again,” I say, filled with determination even though my whole body’s buzzing and I’m not sure how to get a handle on it.

  Am I going to feel like this all the time? So overwhelmed with energy? It’s like when you can finally get out of bed after a week of the flu. I could climb mountains and take on the world!

  It’s crazy.

  “Let’s go then,” he says, waving us all after him, back to the lonely ivy sitting in the lawn, probably wondering why it’s not up on its normal shelf in the bar.

  That’s silly. It’s a plant. It’s not wondering anything. Might be enjoying the fresh air and sunshine though, even the tiny bit we’re getting today.

  “All right little ivy, it’s time to do this,” I say fiercely, focusing hard as I can, feeling the eyes of everyone on me, waiting, expecting something to happen.

  “Ye hafta break your powers, Ava, not the plants. Try talkin’ to it rather than commandin’ it,” Seamus says, still frowning, still thoughtful and concerned.

  That’s got to be the worst part of it all. Seamus is the unflappable one. The one with the jokes, the one that knows about Fae stuff and has always believed in my powers. And I feel like he’s losing faith.

  “Don’t be afraid to follow your instincts,” he adds.

  I look over my shoulder at Micah and remember our meditating as he nods encouragingly.

  Okay, here goes.

  Talk to it.

  I breathe in slowly, pine mixing with honey and wildflowers on the wind. If I concentrate hard enough, I can just detect the tang of salty ocean spray. I kick my shoes off without a conscious decision to, burying my toes in the dirt, feeling the grass wrap up and tickle my ankles.

  I look at the ivy again, and the ends of the vines are dancing in the air, floating, drifting toward me without much urgency.

  “You can speak to the land directly,” Seamus says. “Should respond to queries.”

  “Queries?” I ask, looking down at my feet.

  The question on my mind and the confusion regarding Seamus seems to be enough. It’s not really words that I get back, more the impression of words, a kind of feeling that enters my mind.

  Fae friend, the impression says, centering on Seamus.

  Guess the forest likes him.

  This is going to be weird. If you’d asked me a couple months ago if I thought trees had opinions of people, I would have laughed in your face.

  Now here I am trying to figure out how to speak their language.

  I’d say I’ve done weirder things, but I think this one might actually take the cake.

  30

  Micah

  Evening has come, and still nothing.

  What are they waiting for?

  Why
do they linger, what keeps them from advancing?

  It makes no sense.

  And that is unbearable. I should understand what they are doing. I should be able to anticipate their next move. And yet I remain stumped. My failure to ascertain what the Celestials are up to will continue to haunt me until comprehension dawns.

  I retreated to my room some time ago, gazing out of the windows in this attic tower, out over the forest. From here I cannot see the camp, I cannot even see the glow of their fires. I know they are still out there. I have no doubt.

  They are not leaving until they have the sword, or we manage to chase them off.

  How we will do that while waiting for their next move, I am not sure, but I am not alone in making the decisions here.

  A knock comes from the door, startling me from my thoughts. Ava greets me on the other side, smiling from the stairs.

  “Hey… I just wanted to thank you for your help earlier. That listening thing really helped me quiet my mind.”

  “I am pleased to hear it,” I say, unable to avoid dragging my eyes down the neckline of her oversized t-shirt. It hangs off one shoulder and falls past her hips. It is not clear if she is wearing anything else.

  “Can I come in?” she asks, eyes wide and bright. I cannot refuse her, not that I wish to. I am probably not the company she is seeking tonight, though, and I am aware of that.

  “Of course,” I say, despite my reservations, offering my hand to help her ascend the last few steps into my tower-sanctuary. She managed to assign me a room which suits me perfectly; I have felt quite at home here to my surprise.

  “What’s up?” she asks after closing the door behind her.

  “What do you mean?”

  She smiles, a spark in her eye twinkling in a manner that I know I should take as a warning. This woman is trouble. She has always been. She has been pulling me toward sin, toward the unknown. And still I cannot pull back. I cannot resist her.

  Why should I?

  Ava is the most pure, good-hearted being I have ever met — Celestial or otherwise. Perhaps the realms really do mean nothing as Kushiel once suggested. I called him a blasphemer for that.

  I have done so many foolish things for the cause I no longer serve.

  Denying Ava would be another.

  “I mean what is the matter with you?” she says, parroting my earlier words at me as she takes my hand in hers, just as I did to her earlier.

  No wonder she has that twinkle in her eyes. I cannot remain guarded when she is so vulnerable, and I believe she has realized it.

  I look toward the door. I know I should be past feeling paranoid about the other guys — and I am, for the most part — but that does not mean I wish to be interrupted or overheard.

  “To understand that, I am afraid I would have to explain many boring things about myself.”

  “All ears,” she says, mouth twisted in a lopsided grin. “You know, I can be a pretty good listener if you give me a chance.”

  “If you wish to hear it, I will tell you. Do you have an objection to me casting a privacy spell?”

  “What? What’s that?”

  “A way to prevent anyone from overhearing us or entering the room.”

  Her eyes go wide. “You can do that? Prevent someone from coming in? Can you do that to the whole—”

  “I know what you are thinking, and no, I cannot cast the spell on the house. It has a small range and requires some effort to maintain. I have to be awake, for instance. It is not fool-proof, though it provides some peace of mind when discussing delicate matters.”

  She shrugs, the shirt with the cut-out collar slipping lower down one arm, the neckline providing the barest peek of the top swell of her breast. It is difficult to tear my eyes away until I realize that Ava has caught me staring. Instead of being angry, she smiles impishly.

  “Do what you need to,” she says. Then she goes to my bed and sits, old springs creaking as she wiggles into the middle of the bed and crosses her legs under her, watching me eagerly.

  Entirely aware of her gaze on me, I close my eyes and begin to perform the ritual that will ward the room against anyone but us. When I open my eyes again, Ava’s cheeks are warm with flush, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

  “Anyone ever tell you that your spells look a lot like some kind of martial art or something? I think I could watch you do that all day.”

  My ego appreciates her attention, and for the first time, I release my guilt over being prideful. I was given this vessel by my creator, is it wrong to be grateful Ava appreciates it?

  And at this point, if it is, do I care anymore?

  No. Not even a little.

  “I would be happy to teach you in more sedate times,” I offer, neglecting to mention the progress her younger brother has already made learning the forms. He has not yet shown signs of magic, but with a sister like Ava, it seems inevitable. Better to show him discipline and control now, so he is not faced with the same struggle with insecurity that Ava is.

  She expels breath through her nose in amusement, a silent one-laugh that I find incredibly charming.

  “Maybe. Come here,” she says, patting the bed in front of her. The way she is sitting now, her shirt forms a sort of tent across her knees — it at least keeps my eyes from drifting up her shapely thighs, curiosity growing about the urge I have to discover what lies between them.

  I am no fool. I know of the carnal sins. I have heard tell of them from plenty throughout the ages. I always believed myself above such things, beyond such base needs, such bestial appetites.

  It appears, I was awaiting the proper offering. Ava has awakened within me a longing, an itch almost, that I never recognized existing before.

  And I think she knows it.

  I think Ava possibly likes it.

  Beyond all reason, despite everything I have held dear for so long, her obvious lust does not repulse or repel me.

  It intrigues me.

  Excites me.

  Renders me completely helpless to her charms, to her carefree way, her joie de vivre.

  Perhaps Kushiel was right all along about the demands that were put upon us to repress ourselves, to restrain and stifle anything that might make us seem like less than perfect little soldiers. It is unnatural. Angels are not born to live acetic lives. They are coerced, intimidated, and compelled to fit an image. An unattainable ideal that no one ever really achieves.

  I sit on the bed with Ava, facing her, crossing my legs in the same manner, only I am fully clothed. I have the sudden desire not to be, as if the room were growing warmer with no source of heat added.

  “This must be really hard for you, huh?” Ava asks, frowning.

  How could she possibly know that this is the closest I have ever been to being intimate with a woman? This is the closest I have ever been, and I am fully clothed. This also might be the hardest I have ever been...

  But yes, it is difficult for me. There are centuries worth of programming in my brain, in every decision I make, and I am fighting it with every breath I take at this point. I have forsaken my oath, I have turned my back on the Almighty, and I have never felt better.

  That in itself is bittersweet, and all of the conflicting emotions, the feelings that are somehow simultaneously incredible and guilt-wracking, the things that are exciting and devastating, it is overwhelming. It is hard to process.

  Difficult is putting it mildly, to be honest.

  “What makes you say that?” I ask, struggling still with opening myself, even as I am shaking from being so near to her. She gives another one-laugh and shakes her head.

  “Well, it’s Heaven, right? Like, your home, your bosses, your job? It’s all gone — or… I mean, it’s not, but you—”

  “Ah, yes. That is difficult, I suppose. Perhaps not those specific things.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I suppose we are back to me explaining those things about myself,” I say with a sigh, leaning back against the brass footing of the bed. Th
e bars press oddly into my back, but I manage to wriggle my wing joints into the gaps and it is much more comfortable. “I am not sure if you are aware, but I am an orphan. It happened when I was quite young, and I became a ward of the military. There was an officer there — now a Commander in the ERS, in fact — who saw something in me. He took me under his wing, he taught me to fight, to cast, to control my mind and my fears. He became like a father to me.”

  “Oh shit,” Ava says, covering her mouth with a gasp. “You mean… The Commander guy that nearly beat Kush to death?”

  I swallow, the muscles in my throat working extra hard to push past the tightness.

  “Yes.”

  “I… I realized it was hard for you, but I didn’t realize it was that… Shit, I’m so sorry, Micah, I shouldn’t have made you talk about it.”

  I shake my head, dismissing her concerns. “His betrayal hurts, but I struggle most with my own role in all of this. My unwillingness to examine the things that rose concerns, my insistence on silencing the alarms that rang within me. There were times when Kushiel questioned our mission or brought up an inconsistency and I concurred with him, though I would never say so out loud. I let him think he was alone, I failed him as well as myself.”

  “But that’s all in the past,” Ava says, unfolding her legs, the shirt snapping up, landing high on her thighs. She crawls forward, across the bed to me on her knees, then sits back on her heels. “You can’t beat yourself up over the past forever. You have to forgive yourself in order to grow and move on.”

  I can’t look away from the smooth outline of her leg, the way the shirt hangs and casts a shadow teases me, beckoning me to explore the darkness.

  “Is that so?” I ask, hesitant fingers creeping toward her. She sees me. She sees my hand moving and she doesn’t stop me. My hand falls on the outside of her thigh, and I cup the warm, toned edge of it, certain I could melt from the intense inferno in me. “Wise words,” I mutter.

  “Yeah, the guy who made me realize it is pretty smart. Apparently, he likes you a lot too.”

  My confused frown says it all and Ava laughs at my expense.