Falter

  A storm of emotions stirred in his eyes. Worry lines wrinkled his brow. He seemed to struggle with upholding his strong will and yielding to our attraction.

  “Lay with me,” I whispered. I needed to feel him beside me, at least.

  He carefully lowered onto his side next to me, propping his head up with one hand. I searched for the hunger in his eyes and found it caged in their depths. The moment had passed. His better judgment had won.

  That was unfortunate since my better judgment was very much lacking. Our closeness electrified my cells. Sticky wetness dampened my panties. It was no longer a yearning to be close to Heaven, but a yearning to be his.

  I rolled away from him. Maybe if I couldn’t see him, I could trick my body into calming back down. As soon as I turned, though, he hooked his arm around my waist and tugged me into him. He leaned in and buried his face in my hair, inhaling deeply.

  We lay, uncomfortably close, teasing ourselves with an undying fire.

  He cupped my body, shielding me from the outside world while I melted into him, happily trapped in his love. As we drifted to sleep, the softness of his gallant wing dragged over my sensitive skin, blanketing me in warmth.

  The next day, I woke to the flickering flame of the last candle illuminating the room. I was alone and tucked under the comforter—not Archard.

  Pouting, I wiggled out of our bed, gathered the clean clothes I pilfered from an abandoned locker the day before, and headed down the hall to shower. I turned on the squeaky faucet, slipped off my underwear and bra, and stepped into the stall, ducking my head under the water. It was cold, but, hey, I would be clean.

  After showering, I dried off with the rough, white, industrial towel I found under the sink, then hung it on the shower rod to dry. Keeping my head lowered and my eyes focused on the green line staining the bottom of the sink, I brushed my teeth in record time. I caught myself unintentionally snubbing the reflection in the mirror.

  Seeing how much I had changed—my tired eyes, bruised body, and transformed soul—scared me to death. I couldn’t see the familiar girl inside anymore, and the woman watching me from the glassy surface was too new for me to embrace.

  I slid a worn, gray, Def Leppard t-shirt over my head and tied the excess fabric at the bottom into a small knot over my right hip, then tucked it under. Next, I tugged on black cargo pants that fit a little too snugly around my ass. I sucked in my gut, then freed it once the pants buttoned without too much coercion. I squatted then burst up into a jump a few times, testing the give of my attire. I even managed a high kick with little restriction.

  After I shoved my feet into a pair of confiscated boots, I made my way towards the sparring room—clean and ready to get dirty again. I had some tension that begged for a much needed release.

  I stopped in front of an old Work Safety poster and used the dusty glass frame as a mirror. Pulling my hair into a damp pony-tail, I noticed voices chattering from the office next to me.

  I pushed open the hollow, wooden door, and found Archard, Malach, and a stranger huddled around a long conference table. Judging by his outfit, the stranger was an Arch; his leather sandals, plated skirt, and jeweled sword screamed heavenly warrior.

  “Hey, guys. What’s up?” I greeted, interrupting their deep conversation.

  “Hello, Nevaeh.” Archard held out his hand, inviting me to join in the meeting. It was such a small gesture of inclusion, but one I was overly happy to accept. “This is Eyal. Malach located him this morning. He may have some useful information for us.” Archard gently squeezed my hand and smiled.

  “Hi.” I smiled, attempting to be polite when I really just wanted to skip the formalities and get to the info.

  Eyal dipped his head. “Nice to meet you.”

  This Arch had an unrecognizable accent. I bit the inside of my cheek and smirked, fighting to keep my laughter inside. The little sarcastic voice I kept confined to my brain was making fun of my ignorance and wondering why I assumed all angels were American.

  Eyal moved to the edge of the table and perched an armed hip upon it, unfazed by my momentary lack of composure. He seemed friendly but still intimidating.

  I gathered my focus and fidgeted impatiently. “Let’s cut to the chase. What do you know about me?”

  Bright white teeth contrasted greatly against his soot-black skin as the Arch grinned at my bluntness. “Well…I knew your mother’s angel. He was a Guardian under my jurisdiction. His name was Rhett.”

  “Great! Where is he? We need to talk to him,” I exclaimed.

  “It’s not that easy, Nevaeh,” Archard answered, signaling Eyal to continue.

  “He broke connection with us around the time you were born. We have no idea where he is or why he deserted us.” His unsettled, sloe-colored eyes stared off into space for a moment before he began speaking again. “He was always very quiet and kindhearted over the centuries. We searched everywhere for him. His loss was great in our hearts.” He raised off the table and rested a hand on the pommel of the sword dangling from his hip.

  “Where is my mother?”

  “We last knew Arianna’s whereabouts the night she left you. She kept in touch with a few angels the first year after Rhett left, but it was getting harder for her to keep you safe with demons chasing her unsupervised soul. When she left you, she disconnected from us as well.”

  “So, she disappeared because of me?” My heart felt like it was at its breaking point once again.

  “Arianna vanished to protect you, yes.” He picked up a long, black jacket draped over the chair across from me. Eyal spun towards me and knocked a knuckle on the table to make a point, “For what it’s worth, your mother was a fierce warrior. I have no doubt that she is still alive somewhere. There was nothing but goodness in her heart, and I refuse to believe she would betray us.” The stranger reached over the table and offered his hand. I shook it and tightened my lips in a half-hearted smile. “Sorry I don’t have more to give you.” Eyal strolled confidently out the door.

  “What am I supposed to do with this?” I whimpered to Archard, tears welling in my eyes. All that Eyal said only brought more confusion.

  “We understand a little more about why she abandoned you. Chances are she is still on our side.” Uncertainty hid behind Archard’s hopeful expression.

  “Please don’t patronize me,” I pleaded, losing control of my emotions. “So what if she was on our side then? Who’s to say she didn’t change her mind—that she hasn’t crossed over since then?”

  Malach stepped behind the chair across from me, gripping the back as he leaned over and stared into my eyes. “Look, Nevaeh, we’ll figure this out. Right now, we need to focus on one dangerous situation at a time. We don’t know much about the book, but we will find something in due time. We don’t know where your mom is, or if she is even alive, so we’ll keep searching for her,” he said with a sure voice. He’d almost convinced me there was enough time to answer those questions. “At this moment, we need to save you. Unfortunately, you are literally Hell-bent on saving George’s soul first. Not to mention the fact that we’ve now added Gavyn’s soul to the pile of things to save.” The Archangel paused in thought for a moment before continuing. “We have to proceed with our plan. Once we have George and Gavyn, you can declare sides. When your gifts develop, we can hypothesize about why the book is so special, and how to get it. Hopefully, that will lead us to your mom, too.”

  I needed the future that he promised.

  “Archard and I discovered today that the book can only be used by The Clavis.”

  “That explains why they want me. They must think I’m The Clavis, too.”

  A psychotic breakdown was closing in on me. Tears trickled down my cheeks. This was all so frustrating. Little bits of information kept piling up, but nothing made enough sense to get very far.

  Malach approached me cautiously. “Also...Hell portals can only be opened by demon blood.” His tone lowered. “Nevaeh, we asked about your father, too. No one knows who he
is.”

  “Fucking great.” I huffed, glowering at my hands as I watched my fingers rotate George’s ring.

  Archard sat down beside me and rubbed small circles on my thigh with his thumb, patiently waiting for me to work through the craziness trampling my brain.

  “What’s the next move?” I asked, changing the subject.

  Archard leaned forward in the chair and moved his hand to my cheek, pulling my attention back to him. “Malach and I found an abandoned location just south of here. There aren’t any developments nearby for miles. The public will be safe if anything goes wrong. Malach managed to get a few Archangels to help, and there are sixteen of us Guardians.” He searched my eyes for approval.

  “Okay. What do we do when we get there? How do we make sure the demons come with George and Gavyn?” I restrained my building fear. I couldn’t let Archard see how scared I really was. He would refuse to go through with the plan. “Do I try to contact them and offer my soul as a barter?”

  “We’ve talked it over and decided it’s too dangerous for you to speak with the demons anymore before tomorrow. We can’t take the chance of them influencing you, again,” Malach answered.

  Archard squeezed my leg. “Malach and the other Archs are going to contact the demons and convince them we need Gavyn more than you, that we are willing to give you up for him and George. At the trade, we will hide you until they arrive. We’ll take cover in the rafters, so they won’t know how many of us there are, and we can catch them off guard.”

  Are you okay with this? Please tell me if you aren’t, he begged in my thoughts.

  I patted his hand reassuringly. “After they are surrounded, do I stay hidden, or do I come out to fight?”

  The angels stiffened and glanced at each other. Archard lowered his gaze, nearly burning holes in the table with the anger in his eyes. “You will need to let them find you and engage first.” His jaw twitched as he grinded his teeth. “If they fight a Celata, there will be just-cause to involve the others.” Archard paused, regret clear in his gloomy expression.

  Malach carried on eagerly. “We will be able to use the Celatum for more than mere tools in our war for the humans. We will be able to use them as actual soldiers. We’ve attempted this before, but none were strong enough to engage them. If you are The Clavis, you should be able to withstand the demons until we take them down.”

  Archard eyed Malach, then me. “Once you declare sides, our hope is that you can control portals to both sides, allowing us to move freely between all realms.” He knew the chance I’d be taking could very well be beyond my capabilities.

  “The Celatum could offer so much more than what they have in the past. We could finally put their gifts to full use,” my angel explained.

  “What if I’m not The Clavis?”

  “If anything goes wrong, we will be there to save you. We will defeat the demons as we’ve done before,” Malach assured.

  “That’s your plan B?” I scoffed, my eyes darting back and forth between the angels.

  “Yes.” Archard stood from his chair next to me, frustrated. “This is it, Nevaeh. If we can’t save George and Gavyn tomorrow, there is no guarantee what will happen to them. But, no matter what, we will save you.”

  “I guess it’s all or nothing.” My voice shook as I thought about the two souls that may be lost to me in less than a day. Visions of them morphing into the demons I saw in Hell, as I had done in my own soulless void, made me cringe.

  I shot out of my chair and slammed my hand on the table. “Let’s do this.” My nerves were fried, my emotions raw, but this was all I had to offer to them. I silently promised to give my everything to get them back.

  I walked out of the room without saying another word, motivated to start training. My last day with Arkin was going to do me a lot of good.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Full Circle

  Day seven.

  This would be the day that would inevitably send my life into a tailspin unlike any before. Every cell in my body screamed don’t do this, there’s gotta be another way. Nervous acid churned in my gut, my eyelids weighed a ton, and I wasn’t exactly positive I didn’t have a concussion from our training session the night before.

  I stayed awake for hours thinking of everything—anything—that might tip the scales. I’d be kidding myself if I thought there was really another way. This was the only chance we had. It started with me, and it would end with me—one way or another.

  When I woke this morning, after a night of tossing and turning, the sight of my glorious angel lying on his stomach beside me calmed the chaos of my mind. His radiant warmth soothed my tired, achy muscles. Creamy, plum-tipped wings blanketed my bare legs.

  Rubbing my legs back and forth, I cherished the silkiness of his down against my skin. I smiled at the sweet tinkling of his gold feathers shuffling against one another with my movements. The sound mimicked the jingling of coins dropping onto a pile of treasure.

  His lazy groans startled me, and I stiffened, embarrassed that I was fondling him in his sleep.

  He turned his head and gazed at me with sleepy eyes, then smiled. “Good morning, Nevaeh.”

  I giggled. My secret was safe. “Good morning.”

  Archard shifted, hugging my waist and pulling me under his body. With no intention of fighting him, I gladly scooted closer. Our legs tangled around one another like a pretzel. His wings readjusted and spread over the length of us both, shielding us from the cold.

  I could’ve lost myself in that moment. The thought alone soured my euphoria, reminding me that this may be the last of my time with Archard. I wanted so badly to blurt out how I felt about him. I needed to tell him that I forgave him. I needed to ask for his forgiveness in return.

  “Archard?”

  “Yeah?” He looked into my eyes as if he knew what I was about to say. His aqua blues burrowed straight into my soul. The intensity stole my strength to speak.

  Who was I to grant him forgiveness? Maybe he didn’t think he’d done anything wrong.

  Knock, knock.

  Archard planted a quick kiss on my lips and grinned. “What?” he yelled.

  Arkin cracked the door open and poked his head around the edge. “Hey, man, are you ready?”

  “Yeah, we’ll be right there.” My angel’s perfect smile disappeared, and apprehension lined his breath-taking features.

  Arkin raked his eyes over our entwined bodies and smirked mischievously before vanishing behind the door. I rolled my eyes even though he was no longer there to see it.

  “What are we ready for?” The chill of the factory rushed over my skin as Archard unwrapped himself from me and sluggishly lifted off the bed.

  “To gather our gear and scout the place where we’ll be meeting the demons. We need to make sure they aren’t setting any traps.” He slid his black leather boots on then shoved his arms and wings awkwardly through the holes of a heather-gray t-shirt. There was no denying the unease in his answer.

  “Ok,” I said, sitting up in the bed. “Are we flying or taking a vehicle?” I managed to sound eager, but truthfully, I was scared shitless.

  “No. You’ll stay here until dark. Rest. I can’t take the chance of you running into a demon before we’re ready. I have to be certain you’re as safe as possible before I let you loose with the lions.” He strolled toward me, kissed my forehead, and then turned to leave.

  I gripped his wrist before he was able to walk away. “There is nothing safe about this. There never will be.” I stood up on the mattress and cupped his face in my hands. My lips smashed into his, hunting for an escape from the growing dread attempting to devour me.

  It lasted only a minute, but I would forever remember the freedom I found in his kiss. My entire existence—mind, body, and soul—reacted from the surge between us. Our tongues whirled against one another’s, frantically trying to fuse our connection. I tasted an eternity of Heaven there.

  He grabbed my hands, pulled them away from his cheeks, and hel
d them between us. His grimaced as if in pain when his mouth disconnected from mine. He stared up into my eyes.

  Did he not want me? Oh my God, what if he didn’t feel the same as I did? Heat of embarrassment flushed my cheeks.

  He reached a hand to the back of my head and gently pulled me closer again. This time it was a simple peck on my lips; not nearly enough to satisfy the hunger in my heart.

  He spun and left me alone.

  Hours passed as I waited for the angels to return. I felt so useless sitting around doing nothing. I’d already wasted time self-training, eating, napping, and finding shapes in the oil smudges on the walls as I paced back and forth from one end of the factory to the other. All of that activity took less than the blink of an eye compared to the hours I’d waited in anticipation.

  The sun had risen and set since the angels left. They should’ve been back by now. What little bit of time I had left to save George and Gavyn was slipping away; yet, here I remained, useless, in this crappy building.

  I didn’t even know where to start hunting for them. My frustration grew when I realized the angels had probably concealed that little detail on purpose. I definitely would have followed them had I known where to go.

  I slumped onto the beat-up office chair in our room, scrutinizing the leather outfit spread across the bed. I laughed, thinking how ridiculous it looked. Sighing, I yanked the pieces of tough clothing from the bed.

  I held the small shirt out in front of me, wondering what Archard was thinking when he picked it out. It could have been worse, I guess. He could’ve given me one of the Archs’ leather-plated skirts. At least he provided me some pants to wear.

  After holding the material in my hands and examining it closer, I could see the purpose of his chosen attire. My fingers tightened and twisted around bunches of the heavy fabric. It was certainly sturdier than my thin, worn jeans.

  I traded my baggy t-shirt for the leather top, feeling more appropriately dressed for our battle the moment I zipped the front of the skin-tight vest closed. I stuffed my legs into the leather pants and padded to the window, buttoning the top of them along the way.