Northern Lights

by Debra Dunbar

  Brent looked affronted. “He’s a villain. Compare me to the Hulk, or He-Man, but not Bane.”

  I shook my head. “You could be Samson and you wouldn’t be able to get Ray up here. We can’t leave him behind alone, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to split up.”

  “We need to set up camp closer to a source of water, and with the trees down there, we’ll hopefully have a source of wood for a fire. If we’re stuck here long term, we can build shelters, hunt for food. I’ll get Ray up here. I’m stronger than I look. I can carry him up.”

  Stronger than he looked? I didn’t think that would be humanly possible, but he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would brag about something he couldn’t do. “Okay, Muscles. Let’s round up our merry band and get a move-on. With any luck we’ll find water before nightfall.”

  Brent lifted his head and sniffed the air, then turned to me with a smile. “I guarantee we’ll find water before nightfall. Guarantee.”

  I believed him. This whole thing was so weird. If we’d fallen through an interdimensional rift, I guess it wasn’t too much of a stretch to think this guy was some combination of the Hulk and a water-whisperer. In fact, I wouldn’t complain if he had other superpowers. Conjure a breakfast buffet and a hot shower superpowers, hopefully.

  Chapter 29

  Ahia

  I awoke just before dawn to the smell of bacon and coffee. I brushed my teeth and ran a comb through hair that looked like I’d spent the night in a wind tunnel, then decided it was time to face the day.

  “Hey Zeph, any news from the wolf watching for the rift?” I asked as I walked into the kitchen.

  “Wrong guy.” Raphael was shirtless, frying bacon. My heart leapt right out of my chest at the sight of him. As much faith as I had that he’d return, there was a tiny voice inside my head that kept repeating Nisroc’s words, that doubted things could possibly work out between this angel and me.

  I walked up and wrapped my arms around him, smushing my face against the warm skin of his back. “Did you send Zeph home?”

  I felt a bit sorry for my werewolf friend being woken up in the early hours of the morning and having to drive home sleepy in the cold.

  “No, he’s still asleep on the couch. I didn’t have the heart to wake him. Poor guy looks like he had a rough night.”

  He did. I’m pretty sure this was one of the longest nights of his life. I was glad he was able to finally get some sleep, but surprised that Raphael took the time to notice, that he cared enough to leave Zeph to his slumber — that he cared enough to set three plates and three coffee mugs at my little table.

  Rafi turned around, tongs in hand, to wrap his arms around me and plant a kiss on the top of my head. “He’s your family. These werewolves are your family, which means they’re my family too.”

  I caught my breath. What had happened last night? I knew he desired me, that we had fun together. I hoped we might have something long-term in our future, but I’d never dreamed of this. My family was his family. Did that mean I’d be meeting a bunch of archangels soon?

  “Brent, too?” I teased, instantly feeling a pang of sorrow that Brent might never get a chance to really know Raphael, that this angel might never get to consider my best friend a part of his family.

  “Yes, Brent too.” His arms tightened. “We’ll get him back, Ahia. We’ll bring him home.”

  “Get a room.” Zeph’s voice was gravely with sleep as he walked in and grabbed a mug. “Actually, don’t get a room. These walls are paper thin. I’m not sure I want to hear you guys banging wings or whatever y’all do.”

  Rafi laughed. “Banging wings? Hmm, we’ll need to add that one to our list, Ahia.”

  Rubbing wings, yes. Banging, no.

  “Why are you cooking shirtless?” Zeph asked as he poured coffee in his mug. “Not that I’m complaining about scoring some breakfast. I’m just curious if the half-naked state adds to the dining experience.”

  Nobody fries bacon without a shirt on, and it wasn’t like Rafi had to go to any effort to create one with a snap of his fingers, so the half-naked attire, or lack thereof, was clearly for my benefit. As was the bacon and coffee, although for an angel he seemed to have a fondness for food. And sex. And all sorts of other things I’d always assumed angels were too lofty to enjoy.

  “My angel likes me half-dressed. And she likes bacon with her pancakes. Go ahead and get started, folks. We’ve got a busy day ahead.” He gave me a swat on the rear with the hand not holding the tongs and pushed me gently toward the table.

  He was cooking breakfast for me, before we embarked on a task that would either end in failure or might result in our deaths. He had welcomed Zeph to the table rather than send him home and have me all to himself. As much as I would have enjoyed him sliding under my sheets for morning sex then a romantic breakfast alone, this warmed my heart. A sexy half-naked angel, cooking bacon and sharing what might be our last morning with one of my pack-mates. It meant he had confidence that this would work out. And that he intended on having an eternity to have sex and romantic breakfasts with me. Sharing me with Zeph, embracing my family with open arms, made me love him even more.

  “Milk and two sugars?”

  He turned to me, holding the coffee pot, and I saw that in spite of the odds of death, he wasn’t afraid. He had the same easy, casually cheerful smile that he always had. I suddenly realized that this was how Raphael dealt with an uncertain future. It wasn’t that he was irresponsible, or irreverent, or immature, it was him understanding that even if he did everything in his power to steer his course, there was always an element of chance, of fate, that he couldn’t control. Raphael saw that, and instead of working himself into a frenzy trying to control every little thing, he did all he could, then let go. What happened, happened. There was no sense ruining a beautiful morning, or perfectly good bacon, fretting about something that was out of his power to control.

  That was the Chaos in him that the other angels didn’t understand. That was the part of him I did understand. It was one of the many things about him that I loved. And those other angels were fools, every last one of them, for not seeing what an absolutely perfect being they had in their midst.

  “That’s the way I like it.” I took the pot and waved him back to the stove. “I’ll get us coffee. You keep frying bacon. That way I can admire your ass as you cook.”

  “Yep. Eating as fast as I can so I can get out of here before you two start swapping bodily fluids,” Zeph announced. “And these pancakes are out of this world. What did you put in them, manna from heaven?”

  Rafi set a plate of bacon at the table and took the outstretched coffee cup from my hand. “Oat flour. Ground pecans too.”

  And real maple syrup. I was going to weigh a million pounds with this angel cooking for me. “Yesterday he made yeast-raised ones and had raspberries and cream.”

  And the bacon, It was perfectly cooked. Not too crispy, not too fatty, with only a slight wave to otherwise straight strips of meat. They were thick chunks, with the tang of applewood smoke behind the mouth-watering smell of bacon. I had no idea where he’d gotten this stuff, but it hadn’t been from my fridge.

  “Next time it’s pumpkin spice with a sweet cream cheese instead of syrup.” Rafi announced as he sat down. “Or maybe the almond vanilla pancakes. Or the coconut and macadamia ones.”

  Yes. A million pounds. I wasn’t going to complain, though. I loved food, and a guy who enjoyed cooking — a guy who cooked half-naked, unafraid of hot grease splattering on bare skin. My dream man…angel.

  The three of us ate and joked, Zeph meeting every one of Rafi’s wisecracks with one of his own. The whole time, though, a cloud hung over us. Great food. A sense of family. Witty, light conversation. But we all knew what was ahead. And Zeph and I knew in our hearts that the odds of finding Brent and the others alive were slim to none.

  Chapter 30

  All too soon we were done. Rafi refused Zeph’s offer to do dishes and the werewolf left, realizi
ng that we needed time to ourselves. We cleaned in silence, the angel’s spirit-self touching mine in a way that was more comforting than erotic.

  “Let’s pour some coffee in to-go cups and get a move on.” Rafi said as he put the last dish in the cabinet.

  I felt cold, realizing that as desperate as I was to find Brent and the others, to bring them home, I didn’t want this morning to end. I didn’t want this to be possibly the last of our time together. But I needed to remain positive. I needed to follow Raphael’s example. Do my best, then trust in the fates to work in my favor.

  I poured the coffee and plopped in the sugar cubes, digging the milk out of the fridge.

  “We’ll need to drive there,” he told me as I popped the lids on our cups. “I need to save all of my energy for this.”

  I felt horrible, realizing what I’d asked him to do. A powerful archangel was worried that teleporting, that even the slight effort it took to reveal and dismiss his wings, would compromise his ability to open a stable gateway. He was doing so much for me, all to save a group of humans neither of us knew and a werewolf he saw as a rival. “No problem. We can take my Jeep.”

  I locked up and as we walked to the car, Rafi pulled the keys from my hand.

  Seriously? “Do you even know how to drive? I appreciate the offer, but I’m not sure I want an unlicensed angel driving my car.”

  “I’ve experienced your driving. I can definitely say that I don’t want a certain licensed angel driving me anywhere. I need to be calm and focused this morning. That’s not going to happen if I spend a half-hour drive convinced that my immortal existence is about to come to a very bloody and abrupt end.”

  I pretended to be offended, and probably failed miserably. “I’ve been driving since the first car came to Alaska. Yeah, I’m not much for obeying the speed limit, but I know by now how fast I can take the corners without going over the side of the mountain. Sheesh.”

  He stashed my backpack in the rear seat. “I’ll drive there, and I’ll let you crash us into the side of a mountain on the way back. Deal?”

  We’d be coming back. We’d be coming back, and we’d have Brent and those humans with us. “Okay. Just don’t kill us.”

  He snorted, hopping into the driver’s seat and starting the car as if he’d been driving for decades. “At least this way we’ll arrive in one piece.”

  We might have arrived in one piece, but by the time we pulled up to the remains of the tourist shop, I was ready to strangle Raphael. He didn’t know the roads, so he drove like a three-billion-year-old angel, slowing to half the speed limit at every curve in the road, and riding the brakes down every hill. If the bacon and pancakes this morning hadn’t been so darned good, he would totally have been on my shit list.

  But, pancakes. And he was doing all of this for me. And I loved him, even though he drove like an old man.

  “Where are the remains of the creatures that came through?” Raphael asked, jumping from my Jeep and stepping over chunks of concrete and broken shelving.

  I waved at Drake, the werewolf who was guarding the area then turned to point at a blue box. “There. In the cooler.”

  He stopped shooting me a puzzled look. “In a cooler?”

  “We could hardly leave dead monsters lying around. People don’t need to see that kind of thing, and we didn’t know if their remains would pose a biohazard or not. The techs bagged them up and took them to the morgue for storage, but brought one back in case we needed it.”

  “And they put it in a cooler. With some ice packs and a six-pack of beer?”

  Now that would be cool. Although it probably wouldn’t be seemly to be drinking beer at sun-up. Nah. I was an angel. I could drink beer anytime I wanted.

  The cooler didn’t hold beer, and the head within had leaked gray liquid all over the inside. It stank. And it made me want to puke all the pancakes back up.

  Raphael sighed. “The things I do for love,” he muttered before plunging both hands into the cooler, elbow-deep in goo. The angel closed his eyes, and I saw a golden glow surround him, like an aura.

  After about five minutes of this he pulled his hands from the cooler, shaking them and curling his lip at the disgusting mess that still clung to each finger. “You wouldn’t happen to have a towel, would you?”

  “No.” I grabbed a filthy, dusty T-shirt from under a pile of broken glass. “Here. Use this.”

  He wiped his hands and threw the shirt into a corner. “You fought these things? I’m impressed. And for the record, I’ve never felt anything so foul before in my life, and I’ve read a lot of pretty hideous beings.”

  “What were you doing?”

  “I was reading their energy for clues as to where they might come from, as well as any memories that might have remained in their neural pathways. Of course this will only work if I’m familiar either with their location or somewhere nearby. And with the memories I’m reading comes all sorts of nasty stuff — emotions, flashes of individual experiences, sometimes a very graphic moment that was significant enough to remain imprinted for some time after death.”

  “Eww.”

  Rafi wrinkled his nose. “Tell me about it. I won’t share with you exactly what this monster’s significant life experience was. Suffice it to say that I’m feeling an urge to curl up with a blanket, a puppy, and a bottle of tequila.”

  “So what’s next?”

  “Where did the rift appear?” He walked around the ruins, looking around as if there might be a flashing neon on sign that said rift was right here. “I didn’t recognize the location based on that disgusting cooler of remains. I have some ideas, but I’m hoping there is enough residual energy left from the rift to guide me. Sometimes they close, but don’t fully close. Even the ones we angels seal up sometimes have little tags that identify where they went.”

  I went over to the spot that was between the case of antler jewelry and the leather wallets — or at least where those two displays had once been — and put my hands out, framing where the rift had appeared. Raphael followed my motions, hesitating about three feet off the floor.

  “There’s a spot here. I’m going to see if, between this and what I got from dead-dude-in-a-cooler, I can open this.” He looked at me, his normally lighthearted expression stern. “Stand back. In fact, stand over by the Jeep.”

  I didn’t think that thirty feet was going to make a difference if this thing blew up. Besides, I was an angel. I’d just put the pieces back together and go on with my life. But there was something in Raphael’s expression that made me take notice, so I did as he said.

  The angel put his hands out then vanished, transformed into white light. I squinted against the brightness, feeling the thrum of power, a sound like wind chimes. Then the white became a swirl of color, coalescing into a line of gold that looked very much like the rift I’d seen.

  “You did it!” I ran over, slowing when I saw how exhausted Raphael appeared.

  “No I didn’t. It’s not the right spot.” He took my hand and held it to the gateway.

  “I don’t know. I can’t tell the difference. Are you sure?”

  “Remember how the rift felt, the energy coming off of it, the sound and color of it and tell me whether this is the same or not. It doesn’t feel right to me, but I wasn’t here when the original one came into being.”

  I closed my eyes and felt the edges of the gateway, listening to the music it sang, feeling the pattern that the colors formed. No. The rift was red and orange with a yellow light. This was gold with a white light. The sound was all wrong. It just felt off, somehow. “You’re right. This isn’t the correct location.”

  He sighed, then closed it. “I’ll try again.”

  “Can I help? Maybe if we join, you can feel how the rift felt. How it looked.”

  He smiled. It was that naughty little boy smile of his that made my heart sing. “I’m not sure I can concentrate enough to form a gateway while joined to you. You’re very distracting, you know.”

  I felt my bo
dy come to life at his words. How could just the sight of him, just the sound of his voice make me long to touch him, to feel him inside me, to have his spirit-self wrap around mine and hold it tight, to feel myself fly as we became one, body and spirit?

  “Well, restrain yourself. You’re an angel, you’re supposed to be all about patience. Put on a hair shirt or something and let’s get this done.”

  “Sex afterward?” he reached out and put the pad of his thumb against my bottom lip. “Here in the rubble. If I succeed, will you reward me with a quickie?”

  “If you succeed, I’ll reward you with a blow-job,” I promised, kissing his thumb and sucking the tip of it into my mouth, just to tease him a bit. It worked. His violet eyes darkened to a midnight purple, his breathing suddenly ragged.

  “Deal.”

  He yanked me into his arms, kissing me as though he was going off to war. Then we came together, a swirl of color and sound as we joined. I shuddered, the barest part of myself still in my body. Trying to concentrate and not lose myself in the glorious sensation of being one with this angel, I showed him the rift from my memories, transferred to him everything I knew.

  He pulled away, a portion of his spirit still merged with mine, then with a grin that was purely carnal he turned and put his hands out to the spot where the rift had been. This time I was in the center of it all feeling like I was about to be swept away in a tornado of energy. His spirit-self merged with mine was my anchor, the only thing keeping me from flying apart into a mess of particles.

  The gateway opened and I saw it, felt it. The complexity of the construct was amazing, so far beyond anything I could even imagine doing. Then I recognized the pattern, the sound, the odd discordant note of the rift. He’d done it. Raphael had managed to find the location.

  And then it all exploded. The angel wrapped himself around me — my physical as well as my incorporeal self. I felt the jagged bits of energy strip my skin, tearing the tiny edge of my spirit-being that Raphael hadn’t managed to protect. When it was over and I opened my eyes, I saw the damage he’d taken physically. With a flash of light he’d healed both himself as well as me, but I’d seen beneath his form to the wounds his spirit-self had suffered, wounds his healing energy hadn’t seemed to repair.