Incendiary (The Premonition Series (Volume 4))

by Amy A. Bartol

  “He couldn’t remember anything about his death—no torture or pain. He is content,” he says gently, and I can’t help weeping in grief and a modicum of relief. “He gave me something to give to you when I saw you…and the moment was right,” Tau says in a gentle tone, letting go of my hand.

  “What?” I ask him breathlessly.

  Rising from his chair, he walks to mine. Leaning down, he places a tender kiss on my wet cheek. When my eyes connect with his, he says, “He said to say, ‘Being your human father was the greatest honor of all of his lifetimes.’”

  “How could he say that?” I ask Tau as he crouches near my seat. Using his napkin, he wipes the tears from my cheeks. “I didn’t protect him.”

  “You couldn’t protect him. It’s not your fault—it’s mine,” he replies.

  “Why is it your fault?” I ask, sniffling. “You got shanghaied to Paradise.”

  Tau straightens and returns to his seat. “All of this wouldn’t have happened if Alfred had been taken out in the beginning. We wouldn’t be sitting in the defunct castle of the Gancanagh if I had.”

  A grim line twists his lips as he watches me sadly. I try to pull myself together as I pick up the breadbasket, taking a roll and placing it on my plate before extending it to him. “You know what Russell would say to us right now?” I ask, waiting for him to take the bread from me.

  “I haven’t any idea,” my father replies, accepting the basket from me.

  Breaking open my roll, I explain, “He’d say we’re stupid.”

  Setting a roll on the small plate, he asks, “Would he?”

  “Yes,” I nod, nibbling my roll. It takes me a while before I can swallow past the lump in my throat. But then, using Russell’s accent, I say, “He’d say, ‘You’re stupid and arrogant if you think that you’re capable of doin’ any of this without the help of Heaven. This was meant—I can feel it and you can either cry ‘bout it or you can man up.’”

  “He would say that?” Tau asks, following my lead and taking a bite of his roll.

  “Uh huh,” I reply.

  “Should we kill him?” Tau asks, and smiles when I laugh.

  Taking a sip of my juice, my throat eases a little. “Not just yet. I like having him around.” I chew my roll for a while, thinking, and then I ask, “So, you didn’t know us before—Russ and me?”

  “No,” Tau replies. “I met you the human way—when you were born.”

  “Really!” I ask, my eyes widening.

  “Really,” he smiles. “It was determined that you would feel more like my daughter if we never met in Paradise. I believe the hope was that I would bond with you if I felt that you were created as my child.”

  “Did it work?” I ask him.

  “Am I here?” he counters.

  “Oh,” I smile as a light feeling within me makes my cheeks blush warmly.

  “Cole knew you, and of course Xavier knew everything there was to know about you. He used to tell us stories of your past lifetimes—your adventures, escapades. Hearing some of them, there can be no doubt why you were chosen for this.”

  The fact that Xavier has always been with me begins to sink in. “Can I ask you something?” I inquire.

  “Yes,” he grins, highlighting the fact that I’ve been asking him lots of things.

  I blush before I ask, “If a guardian angel has always been with a particular soul, does that mean that he would know more about that soul than even her soul mate?”

  “Possibly, he would be witness to much more than the soul mate,” he replies. “Then there is the fact that they could remain together in Paradise until the soul reunited with its mate.”

  “Is that common?” I ask.

  “It’s not,” he responds slowly. His reply seems to imply something that I don’t want to pursue at the moment.

  “What about Russell’s guardian angel? Where is he?” I ask.

  “Russell has had many, a different one for different lifetimes on Earth. It's uncommon to have only one guardian angel over such a lifespan,” he replies.

  “How uncommon?” I ask, not being able to stop myself.

  “I’ve never heard of another pair like you and Xavier. Nor is it common for a Seraph to guard a soul,” Tau states. I cringe inwardly at this little nugget of information.

  “Why wasn’t Russell given another guardian angel for this life?” I ask, irritated that he didn’t have any protection from Heaven while growing up.

  “Not every soul has a guardian. Mostly, they’re reserved for souls doing specific work,” Tau says.

  “They are?” I ask, uncomfortable, since I apparently have always had a guardian angel who now thinks he owns me.

  “Virtues aid most souls when necessary. It was thought that a guardian angel for Russell would draw attention to him—attention that we didn’t want. He was much safer born with the masses, camouflaged within the human race. He was born first, you’ll recall. That was done on purpose,” Tau says. “He was human, he would not attract attention.”

  “Not like a half-angel would,” I say.

  “Not like a half-angel would,” Tau agrees.

  “Yes, but when he went to school to meet me, why not give him some protection then?” I ask.

  “I believe you know the answer to that,” he replies.

  Dinner arrives and I smile politely and nod at Aldo who explains to me what he has prepared for me. I don’t hear what he says, but instead I’m thinking about Tau’s last comment. Russell hadn’t been given protection because he wasn’t supposed to stay here on Earth. I had changed the plan, but maybe the plan had already changed. Tau had to leave and that was not his plan. Freddie was able to get to me, again, not Tau’s plan. Maybe Heaven has its own agenda and it seems to be a secret known only to them.

  I manage to smile and thank Aldo before he leaves the room again. We eat in silence for a little while until Tau asks, “What was it like?” When my eyebrow lifts, he adds, “Finding out that you were an angel—evolving?”

  “I…wow,” I stammer, not knowing what to say, “that’s a…hard question to answer.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you,” he says with a frown. “How is your meal?”

  “No, it’s okay. Um…close your eyes,” I murmur, and wait patiently for him to do it. “Maybe…maybe it’s a little like being alone on a moving train for the first time. The excitement and wonder at the new experience slowly gives way to the creeping feeling that something isn’t quite right. You check your ticket again and see that you may have made a mistake—it’s not the train you intended to be on. At first, you try to deny it. You watch the scenery slipping past and try to find a familiar landmark, and for a while, you take solace in denial.”

  “But soon, the terrifyingly unfamiliarity of the terrain outside the window causes you to panic. Crushing fear that you can’t ignore makes you rush around, looking for a way off it. But, it’s moving so fast that you know there is no getting off until it stops somewhere. So, you creep back to your seat and try not to attract attention to yourself, because the strangers on the train have taken on a weird, plastic appearance. Any camaraderie that you may have shared with them before is gone since you’re no longer one of them: you’re a trespasser meant to be on a different train.”

  “The knowledge begins to weigh on you as you slide farther and farther from where you wanted to go. You try to reign in your fear and convince yourself that maybe this new destination will be better than the one you had planned for yourself.”

  “Then, somewhere along the way you discover that all your baggage is wrong, too, and you find that you’re ill-equipped to survive the trip you’re on,” I whisper as my voice falters. My eyes brighten with tears again. “That’s a tough one…” I pause when Tau’s eyes open and connect with mine.

  I take a deep breath, choking back my tears and say, “But then…then you notice that the stranger sitting next to you isn’t like any of the other passengers…that even though you sat in his seat, he’s going to
try to help you sort out the tangle you’re in. And, because this stranger is so perfect, you begin to relax a little and forget that you’re on the wrong train at all.”

  “Reed is the stranger in this scenario,” Tau says, not at all like a question.

  “Yes,” I reply.

  “What about Xavier?” he asks.

  “What about him?” I reply with a sinking feeling.

  “He’s not going away,” Tau replies. “He loves you.”

  “I hardly know him,” I say uncomfortably. “He’s not really the person I knew in high school, is he?”

  “What happens when your soul awakens and that changes? What happens when you do remember him?” he asks me.

  “I don’t know—maybe it will never happen,” I reply.

  “I forget just how young you are, Evie,” he frowns. “There will be an alignment of your heart, your soul, and your mind, and then…you may feel differently.”

  “You think so?” I ask as irritation enters my tone. “Because Russell has been trying to get me to remember all of our past lives, but I can’t. I do, however, feel the connection that I have with him. My soul recognizes his. Why don’t I feel anything remotely like that for Xavier?”

  “I don’t know why the passionate substance of your soul doesn’t recognize him,” Tau says with a renewed calm. “But, because of your mission, the very stars have had to hide their fire from you. Does it not, then, stand to reason that it’s just well hidden?” he asks.

  “Do we ever really know entirely what is in our own hearts?” I ask. “I’m sitting here, surrounded by Brennus’ empire—bottles of blood lining the walls like trophies and I still have a hard time believing that this is truly all he is—a killer.”

  “Don’t perceive with just your heart, Evie,” Tau says. “You haven’t seen him clearly since he took you from that northern library…feel him—his taste, his scent…he feels your love but gives none.”

  “Brennus wants me to survive,” I sigh in frustration.

  “For his own pleasure only—not for you to exist without him,” Tau counters. “And he will hold on to you until you sever that thread.”

  “And Xavier? Will he hold on, too?” I ask. “Because I have an aspire.”

  “He doesn’t see it as a legitimate binding—none of us do,” Tau says softly.

  “Why?” I ask him, completely offended.

  “Do not misunderstand me,” he explains in a serious tone. “I am grateful to Reed for protecting you and it speaks of his feelings for you that he was willing to bind his life to yours. But, the threat of death was present in the decision…and the offer. I am worried that there will come a time when the grace of the offer will not be enough to satisfy either of you.”

  “You think it was unfair of me to have accepted Reed’s offer?” I ask, feeling shame stain my cheeks at having my fears echoed so eloquently.

  “I’m afraid that the beauty of your love can enslave the unsuspecting…and a love like that is…dismaying,” he says carefully.

  “Reed’s not my slave,” I say defensively. “Our relationship is a partnership.”

  “His life has utterly changed—it is chained to yours,” he replies. “That he has shown such strength in pain is a testament to his love for you, but was it just the cold, winter wind that swept you into his arms?” he asks me.

  “You doubt my love for him?” I ask him incredulously. “You think I committed to him to garner his help?”

  “You fled from him—straight into Brennus’ arms,” he replies.

  “I was trying to protect him!” I retort. “You don’t know what it was like. I had finally figured out that even the Divine wanted me dead. I had only just barely escaped Pagan who hunted me within an inch of my life. They would’ve killed him had they found us together.”

  “If you loved him, why go to Dominion and beg them to kill you?” he asks me.

  “I didn’t beg them to kill me. I presented it as an option and I did it to save him! I had given up hope that they would spare my life, but I thought that maybe they would spare Reed and Zee if I went to them and turned myself in,” I explain.

  “And you didn’t know then that your death would’ve killed everything inside of him?” he asks me with narrowing eyes.

  A sad smile twists my lips when I reply, “You know, you’re the one who made sure that I was raised like a human, and then you’re surprised when I think like one. I hadn’t invested much thought into how he’d survive eternity without me; I just hoped that he would.”

  “I was surprised to hear that you disregarded all the sacrifices he made for you to keep you alive,” Tau replies.

  “That’s the perspective of an angel,” I respond. “Maybe you can understand this: I will fight for him with all that I am. I won’t let him go—I can’t.”

  Tau’s brow darkens again as he stares at me and I can tell he’s worried about something because my brow does the same thing.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I was just thinking that you may not get a choice in that,” he replies. “Xavier will challenge Reed—”

  “Challenge him? Challenge him for what?” I ask.

  “For you,” Tau replies.

  “No, he won’t,” I say, setting my fork down because I can no longer eat. “I can’t let that happen.”

  “How will you stop it?” he asks. “It’s between them.”

  “We’ll leave,” I reply succinctly.

  “Without us?” Tau asks, setting his fork down as well and leaning back in his chair.

  “It’s been a little slice of heaven being with you,” I say with a little sarcasm, “but I can protect myself now—and what’s mine,” I reply, placing my napkin on the table.

  “You propose to leave? Just like that?” he asks, and I’m getting the feeling that he thinks I’m very naïve.

  “I was proposing to leave after we deal with Brennus,” I correct him. “I’m aware that there’s a mission here. When it’s over, there won’t be any reason to stay together.”

  “Can’t you think of at least one other reason?” he asks me, sounding irritated.

  Looking up at the ceiling for a second, I shrug when our eyes meet again, “Well, there’s the fact that you’re my dad, but I’m nineteen now—time for me to leave the nest anyway.”

  “And the fact that I’m your superior has no weight with you?” he inquires.

  “Wait a minute, you mean like rank?” I ask and roll my eyes.

  “That is exactly what I mean,” he responds coolly.

  “I don’t respond to rank,” I reply.

  “What do you respond to?” he asks me. “Is it force?”

  My eyebrows come together slowly in a frown. “What are you saying?” I ask him.

  Tau leans forward and places his hands flat on the table. It takes an extreme effort not to lean away from his aggressive posture and break eye contact with him.

  He studies me for a moment before he says, “I’m saying that if you plan on leaving without my permission, you had best hit the ground running and never stop because I will find you and then you will answer to me.”

  “You would make me hide from you?” I ask.

  “You would make me hunt for you?” he counters.

  “You do realize that I’m no longer the little girl that you left behind?” I murmur softly, almost menacingly.

  I lean closer to him, mimicking his posture while pulling energy to me. I allow it to leak from my fingertips and spread slowly over the table, covering everything on his side with a crystallizing frost. He doesn’t even glance at his frozen water glass or look away from my face when his wings storm out of his back, destroying the chair behind him as he stands.

  “Should you try magic on me, you had best kill me, because if you don’t, I will make you pay for it,” Tau says with equal menace in his tone.

  “I don’t want to kill you—I just want autonomy,” I reply, standing too and feeling myself pale. He’s way better at this than me. I feel like a c
hild trying to negotiate a later bedtime.

  “There is no autonomy. You don’t exist for your own amusement,” he says.

  “I don’t exist for your amusement either,” I counter.

  Pointing at me from across the table, he says, “You’re an angel—that makes you subject to our laws and right now, I find nothing amusing about you.”

  I cross my arms. “Does this mean I’ve outgrown the adorable stage?” I ask with a hint of derision. “You forget that I’m also human.”

  “How can I forget that when you’re so much like your mother?” he asks me, and his wings lower perceptibly.

  “My mother…” I trail off, feeling the grim line of my mouth relax a little.

  “Would have been better at this,” he replies, gesturing to the table and indicating dinner.

  “She couldn’t have been worse,” I say under my breath, but bite my lip when I see him frown. “You did smash your chair,” I point out, gesturing behind him to the lumber on the floor.

  “You are difficult to fathom, Evie,” he says with a frustrated sigh. “There are so many facets to you and all of them are dichotomies. “You’re naïve yet wise, independent with a dependence, guilelessly sophisticated, obstinately compliant…”

  “I get it: I’m flawed,” I say, holding up my hand to stop him as my spine straightens.

  “You’re perfectly flawed—that is what is so endearing about you,” he explains softly. “You’re very much like your mother.”

  “And you’re insultingly flattering, so it would seem I’m more like you,” I reply, while rubbing my aching forehead.

  “Maybe so…we’re both very strong-willed,” he replies.

  “So, what now?” I ask, before adding, “And don’t say dessert because I’m not hungry.”

  “Are you asking me what my plans are for you?” he asks, and I nod. “I plan to train you.”

  “I know how to fight,” I counter.

  “You know some techniques, but true strategy?” he shakes his head. “I also plan to teach you about your position here as well as in Paradise. You need help with language acquisition, protocol, negotiation, angelic cognition…”

  “What’s angelic cognition?” I ask.