Operation Middle of the Garden 03 - Of Consuming Fire

by Micah Persell

  As his sword slid into her belly, her words cut off with a gurgle. Her eyes widened with disbelief and then narrowed as the pain of her wound hit her.

  It was a mortal wound. Just as he had intended.

  Jayden gaped as his Temptation tried to speak. A burble of blood ran over her bottom lip, and her legs failed her. The defiler behind her caught her as she sank to the ground.

  “Grace!” The man he sent flying across the room now sprinted toward them. Jayden stumbled back as he watched them try to stem the flow of blood, his Temptation’s life force spilling over their hands.

  Fear. The emotion returned to him, and it was so severe it stole his breath. He felt a tremor begin in his legs and spread to his hands. He was losing her — just as he met her. He heard a moan of abject pain and realized it came from him. “No … ”

  The woman he intended to kill turned accusing eyes on him. “What the fuck are you?”

  He did not answer. He only watched as the blood flow from the wound he had caused began to slow. His Temptation’s eyes started to glaze.

  “No!” he said again, scanning the room. His gaze landed on the Tree of Eternal Life. His wings sprang from his back, and he was flying toward it without another thought.

  Chapter Three

  It hurt. God, it hurt so bad.

  And why were they pushing on it so hard? Touching her. Jericho and Dahlia’s hands were weapons themselves, adding to her agony as they applied pressure to the gaping wound marring Grace’s gut.

  She tried to tell them to stop, was sure that she had, but she only tasted blood on her tongue.

  That thing — the most beautiful, terrifying being she had ever seen — had … killed her. She was dying.

  And maybe that was okay. She was so tired of being afraid. Of looking for someone to hurt her around every corner. She wasn’t afraid right now, and it was the first time that’d happened in years. It almost made the pain worth it.

  Almost.

  Cold. Her teeth started to chatter. With a rush of relief she realized she could no longer feel their hands upon her. Her body was going blessedly numb.

  But it was so cold.

  Dahlia scooped her up into her arms and cradled her against her chest, rubbing her hands up and down Grace’s arms. “Shh,” she said. “It’ll be over soon, Red. Shh … .” Grace was still conscious enough to struggle, but when her efforts were unsuccessful, she realized her numb body did not react to Dahlia’s touch as it always reacted to human contact. Without the ability to feel the pain of Dahlia’s touch, Grace was shocked to discover that the other woman’s embrace was … pleasant. It was the first time someone had put their arms around her in — she couldn’t remember. A sudden, intense desire to live roared through her, and Grace tried to fight, to say something. But instead of a sound, her efforts brought another rush of blood.

  The strength left her limbs, and she sagged into Dahlia’s lap. Black began to edge in on her vision, so Grace closed her eyes to prevent watching it.

  Dahlia tucked Grace’s head into the curve of her neck and began to hum something soft and sweet. Grace smelled cinnamon. She relaxed. If she had to go —

  As her senses dimmed, she heard a scuffle.

  “Get away from her!” Jericho yelled. “Let her go in peace, for God’s sake.”

  “She needs this,” said a voice Grace had only heard twice but immediately recognized as his. “Now! Right now — ”

  A heavy silence met his insistence, and Grace wondered for a second if she had slipped away into death, but then she felt slices of renewed pain that must mean Dahlia was laying her down again.

  The fear that had abandoned her for a few blessed moments rushed back in. What were they doing? She had no way of knowing.

  “Quickly,” she heard him say again, desperation dripping from his voice in a near moan.

  Another rustle, and then the sweetest scent she’d ever encountered. A mix of peach and sun-warmed earth and sky. She tried to hum in approval, but cut off when she felt a curious sensation where the sword had sliced through her. It started off as a trickling tickle, but soon grew uncomfortably warm. It launched throughout her entire body, causing her back to bow.

  She opened her mouth, and her scream rent the air. No flow of blood accompanied it this time, she realized dimly, as her limbs flinched and jerked on their own.

  All pain disappeared and in its place was ecstasy. Pleasure like nothing she had ever felt warmed her to the tips of her fingers and toes. She moaned loudly as she turned to her side and curled in on herself. Her hands encountered the torn fabric of her blouse and jacket, but then felt smooth skin where moments ago had been carnage. The pleasure faded, and her fingers tentatively explored her abdomen.

  The wound was … gone.

  She opened her eyes to a world that was a blur. Colors blended with colors, shapes with shapes. Her fingers rose trembling to her eyes and bumped against her glasses. On instinct she whipped them away, and the world fell into immediate focus. She saw her surroundings with a clarity she had never known before; a clarity she instinctually knew was greater than human capability.

  She was lying in a pool of her own blood, its vivid red color causing her to jerk upright. She looked around slowly. Jericho and Dahlia peered at her with cautious hope. “What — ?” Grace’s hoarse voice gave out.

  A harsh noise behind her caught her attention. “You’re alive,” he said on an exhalation of breath.

  She jerked around, her eyes finding him immediately.

  He stood close — too close — and his eyes roved over her in a way that could only be described as proprietary. He was gorgeous. He had the beautiful dusky coloring of the exotic Middle East: mouthwatering dark skin, warm black hair that cascaded in waves around his shoulders. She craned her neck back to take in his stature. He was huge — tall and broad — but instead of being terrified, she reveled in his height and the wings that spread behind him and glimmered in the glow of the emergency lights. She sucked in a breath as she glanced over the wide expanse of his chest and down the flowing white robe that covered his body. Her gaze traveled back to his face and was snared by lush, full lashes framing light, honeyed-green eyes.

  “Angel … ” she heard herself mutter.

  And then the world tilted violently as a soft, strong Voice whispered inside her mind: He’s yours. The One.

  • • •

  Jayden felt the exact moment his Temptation connected with him for all eternity. It was a phenomenon he had only witnessed once, but one he immediately recognized in her wide, dazed eyes and parted lips. He was hers now. Her mate. He trembled. At least that was what she would think, he corrected himself.

  Pure, unadulterated fear coursed through him for the third time in his life; however, this fear was much worse, much more intense than anything he had felt so far. If she paired with him, she would want him. Badly. He had only been in her presence for a handful of heartbeats, and already his self-control was severely tested. His was facing his Fall, and only one solution presented itself to him. Using the fear as fuel, he spun on his sandaled heel, and sprinted toward the door. He would leave. Simply leave her. Abandon his duty, again. But it was the only way he could save himself.

  He heard the humans moving around behind him, shouting angry questions, but he paid them no heed. His only focus was on escape. He made it to the spot by the wall where he had first landed, and unfurled his wings with a violent snap. He crouched to take off, but couldn’t move.

  His brows drew together. He gathered his energy once again, crouched, and tried to launch himself from the floor, over the wall, and into the night.

  Nothing.

  It was as though he hit an imaginary wall.

  With a roar, he spun around and pinned his Temptation with a glare. This was her fault. He needed to be away from her, and now that he had seen her, he could not leave her. He thought his brothers had been exaggerating when they warned him about the pull Temptations had on the sons of God. They undersold everyth
ing.

  He growled low and bared his teeth before realizing he was behaving worse than an animal. The humans shrank back from him, their eyes wide. And that was the first time since giving her the fruit that he truly looked upon his Temptation.

  He felt his mouth go slack; his breath left him in a rush. He stumbled toward her and then broke into a quick walk, never letting his eyes stray from their target.

  The fruit had changed her. She was beautiful before, but now … . His mouth went dry, and that ache in his belly grew almost unbearable. Her features had realigned into perfect symmetry. Her body had gained strength right before his eyes. Though some of her weight had melted away, she was still lusciously curved, and Jayden was thankful for that. Those storm-cloud eyes swept over him from top to bottom and back to top, lingering over certain areas — he did not miss how she hungrily gazed at his chest — before settling on his eyes.

  He was nearly bowled over by her emotions, not even needing to probe her mind. A wave of intense longing, so much more than lust, washed over him. But it only lasted two heartbeats before her revulsion followed on its heels. And it was her revulsion that caused him to remember himself.

  Lord in Heaven, what had he just done? Given of the Trees to a human? The very thing he had been charged with correcting. And then, out of fear, he had tried to flee. Millennia of being the warrior who never fought, and he had run yet again when the chance presented itself.

  He felt his lips curl into a snarl, his teeth gnash, but he stoutly resisted giving in to another emotion. He would not feel. Not anymore. Not again. He would not. He wanted to be angry with her, but he knew whose fault this was. He had felt her acceptance of death and rebelled against it with every fiber of his being.

  His Temptation — she was aptly named.

  He sneered at them all: his Temptation, huddled on the ground in a pool of her own blood; the woman defiler kneeling behind her; and the man, standing slowly and facing Jayden with a dangerous expression.

  “You fucking bastard. You tried to kill my wife?” the man asked. The words began calmly enough, but escalated to a bellow. The wife in question stared at her mate with shock that betrayed how rare it was for the giant blond to use such language and such a tone.

  “Yes,” Jayden answered simply. Despite his attempt to ignore his Temptation, the scent of her blood was filling his nostrils and distracting him, reminding him of both his actions and how close he had come to losing her. “Get her out of those clothes. Cleaned up,” he snapped at the blond’s mate. He needed to think. Regroup. And he would not be able to do that with his Temptation covered in her own blood and crouched on the ground before him.

  Pounding feet sounded behind him, and Jayden looked over his shoulder at the same moment everyone else focused on the door.

  “Abilene’s fine — ” Another tall man — this one with dark hair and blue eyes — swung into the room and skidded to a halt as his eyes took in the scene they created. “What the hell? Grace?” He flew into a sprint, rushing past Jayden without another look and diving toward the two women huddled on the floor.

  His Temptation threw herself back, away from the man’s outstretched hands. Jayden frowned just as she opened her mouth: “Please, don’t — ”

  “Do not touch her.”

  All four of their heads snapped around to stare at him, and Jayden realized he had said that. He snarled at them again, and his Temptation shrank back. He fought against a wave of annoyance that her fear pinged against his mind.

  He saw the new addition to their party take in Jayden’s presence. The wings, the robe — it did not take a genius. He saw the man’s blue eyes dip to the sword Jayden clutched in his right hand. “Okaaaay,” he said slowly, coming to his feet with his hands spread wide. “I think I’d like to know what’s going on here.”

  Jayden closed his eyes — something he never had to do to focus — as he reached toward the man’s mind with his own, seeking his history: repeated torture, death, love, redemption. This defiler had experienced much. He had to die, but he was not a contender for the top of the list. That still went to the woman crouched behind his Temptation. Yet, his Temptation had said something as she stepped in front of Jayden’s blade.

  He forced himself to look into her eyes again, bracing for the hated emotions such an action would stir up. With gritted teeth, he asked, “Why?”

  Her eyes widened at being addressed, but she did not need to ask for clarification. She knew exactly what Jayden was asking. Her chin shot up, and she pinned him with an imperious glare. “She’s pregnant, you monster,” she said, her gray eyes sharpening into daggers.

  Jayden clenched his jaw. Nothing about that statement settled well with him. Monster? Did she really think of him as such? He shook his head, forcefully displacing such ridiculous thinking. It mattered not. But if the defiler was pregnant, Jayden had almost made a very serious error.

  He closed his eyes again, focusing this time on the small woman who would be the first to die.

  And there it was: a tiny, rapid heartbeat.

  He had missed it. Heavenly Father, he had missed it.

  He took a step back, turning from them slightly, his hand to his forehead rubbing the ache between his brows. The humans began to talk all at once, questions flying every direction.

  “Silence,” he ordered sharply, and was thankful when they immediately obeyed. He took a deep, calming breath and reevaluated the situation. An angel must always make sure to focus before allowing the Compulsion to set. Mistakes had been made in the past — angels who had gone rogue, believing themselves to be in the right. The Compulsion began when the angel finalized his plan, whether or not the angel’s mission came down from the throne of the Most High. Thankfully, Jayden did not have to worry about that; he knew his mission came directly from the Most High. He only needed to make sure his plan would honor that being.

  Inside this building were four — he corrected himself with an almost-wince — five immortals: the two men, and three women. His mind sifted hopefully through the information on the men. Both had been coerced into taking the fruit, but had eventually willingly signed over their compliance. They would be toward the top of the list. His mind also informed him that another of the immortals was pregnant. She lay in a different part of the facility nearing the end of her term. She had not willingly partaken of the fruit, but had had it forced upon her. She would be near the bottom. And then there was his Temptation.

  The bottom, he immediately decided. The very bottom of the list. Agony clenched his gut as the full consequence of his actions hit home. He had single-handedly ensured that he would have to slay his own Temptation. Literally.

  The sword in his hand flared momentarily as it echoed Jayden’s dismay.

  Free will was a gift the Most High only gave to the humans. Jayden would carry out his mission once it was decided. It was only a matter of time before the Compulsion took over.

  He turned to the woman he deemed as the most vile. Yes, she was still at the top of the list, but the innocent she was growing inside of her put her firmly off limits. For now.

  He narrowed his eyes. She had seven months remaining of a ten-month term. Would that be too long?

  His eyes flicked over to his Temptation before he could stop them. Could he put the Compulsion off for seven months?

  It was possible. He had already delayed deciding upon his mission for eight years. But that had been when you knew they were seeking for a way to kill the defilers and daily putting it into practice. Jayden grimaced. And those eight years had taxed him. He could no longer delay finalizing the plan that would trigger the Compulsion’s count down. And once he did, the last eight years would weigh heavily. Seven additional months might be asking too much.

  His mind sifted through the other three immortals on the planet — the ones everyone thought had never been created but had been disposed of when the two men before him had been turned by eating the fruit. He could go to their location. Kill them right now. It would buy him se
veral precious months.

  His mind immediately rejected it. No, those three men were as much to blame as the two before him, and therefore could not be slain any earlier. Besides, they were imprisoned. No immediate threat. The five before him were free. Roaming the earth. Procreating. Sanctioning more misuse of the Trees.

  They were the greater threat.

  His reasoning was done. His mission rolled out in his mind. Eight would die: the dark-skinned woman, the blond man, the blue-eyed man, the three imprisoned immortals over the sea, the other pregnant defiler — Jayden swallowed — and his Temptation.

  He felt the certainty of it lock into place. His mission was set in stone. The clock began to count down. At some point — and Jayden didn’t know when — it would become impossible to put off, and he would blindly go through the list, slaying them one by one. The only divergence would be if the first woman had not delivered yet. In that case, he would blindly move to the blond man and come back to the first woman when she had delivered.

  He would blindly kill her. Jayden closed his eyes. Would spill her blood. Would watch the life drain from those beautiful gray eyes all over again.

  So let it be done.

  That was his duty, he reminded himself. He would not become like those of his brothers who Fell to their Temptations. Their love made them weak.

  Love made them all weak.

  He felt the blue-eyed man move and whipped around, his sword unfailingly finding the vulnerable point beneath the man’s chin.

  His mind told him the man’s name was Eli, but Jayden quickly discarded the information. He did not want to know their names. He filtered through them one at a time, replacing their names with acceptable, distant modes of address: Eli became the “blue-eyed one”; Jericho, the “blond one”; Abilene, the “delicate one”; and Dahlia, the “mouthy one.”

  The blue-eyed one froze where he had been reaching for Jayden’s sword.

  “I would not advise that,” Jayden said shortly, knowing it was only the man’s position as third most viable threat that kept Jayden’s sword from ending him now. He lowered the sword as the man stepped back, but the defiler’s blue eyes flicked to a spot over Jayden’s shoulder.