by L. A. Banks
Melting into his deep warmth, she closed her eyes and bit into the succulent apple, sure that it had been made sweeter just because he’d been eating it.
“Let me know when you want anything else,” he murmured against her hair.
“Not fair,” she whispered, releasing all resistance against him.
“I was talking about cashews or water,” he said, chuckling.
She playfully elbowed him, and that only made him laugh harder. “I swear sometimes you get on my nerves, man.” She bit the apple hard and chewed it loudly.
“You’re welcome.”
“Humph. Back atcha.” She took another bite as he dropped a bag of cashews in front of her and set the bottle of water within her reach.
“Thank you,” she said more pleasantly, then turned a bit to kiss his shoulder. When she felt his breath hitch, she smiled.
“Back atcha,” he murmured, then kissed her shoulder, returning the favor.
“Okay, okay, stop—before we embarrass ourselves on this train.”
“I would not be embarrassed.”
She laughed softly and opened the water. “I would.”
He sighed and began stroking a lazy pattern up and over the swell of her hip and back.
“You need to stop,” she said, chuckling more deeply and warming to his touch.
“It’s meditative.”
“Ohhh … meditative. Uh-huh.”
“Yes. Quite. In fact, as I was waiting for you to return, I realized that I needed to fully absorb from this region … just as I had when I first came to look for you. Remember my first day on earth and how you took me to the library so that I could process all the knowledge in that repository?”
“Yeah,” she said more thoughtfully, recalling how he’d walked down the stacks touching shelves, drinking in information without ever having to read it, just as he had in the supermarket, analyzing food and absorbing nutrients. She hadn’t realized that he could now absorb history and images from any region. His ability to synthesize earthbound data was definitely getting stronger the longer he was on this plane.
Azrael nodded and sighed. “That is the only way I can understand Isda’s pain, what happened here after we withdrew, specifically why the emotions of the team are running so high.”
She snuggled deeper into his warmth and laid her head down on an outstretched arm, loving how his mind worked. Listening to him talk in bed while he was propped up on one elbow was like hearing the best bedtime story in the world. “Tell me what you learned today,” she said in a soft murmur with her eyes closed, now able to also feel the gentle current of his energy that washed over her body, and suddenly realizing that he was cleaning the room and everything in it just for her.
Using white Light, he was manifesting that pristine angel condition, zapping potential bedbugs and bacteria, anything disgusting. He’d bestowed this subtle but profoundly caring gift upon her, in the same manner in which he and the brothers all cleaned their wings—just from the sheer intention of cleanliness. He’d done that to the room for her. It even smelled different, now that she paid attention.
“Oh … Az … thank you.”
He kissed her shoulder again, his hand never losing its slow, constant metronome rhythm of gliding up and over her hip and back.
“I learned that women must have water,” he said, smiling against her shoulder as he kissed it again. “I learned the reason why when mortals reincarnate, they forget the past lives, most times.”
“Why?” She turned slightly to try to look at him, but gave up when it broke their warm seal. Snuggling back against him, she waited for the revelation.
“Because they are to bring the lesson forward but not all the entrapment. They must learn whatever that lifetime had to teach them, encode that part deep in their psyche, but all the entrapment in anger, vengeance, guilt, shame, rage, hatred, vendettas … those dark emotions are to pass away. If humans remembered everything, as soon as they came of age, they’d be on a path of war against their enemies. But, alas, sometimes they do remember … or because the lesson wasn’t fully learned, they become reentangled with their past pain or past persecutors. It is all so complex and out of the scope of what I was designed to accomplish as a mission. There are those of us on the other side who specialize in these matters. My goal was just to tap into a small segment of it to help me better understand how to help the team.”
“Like Queen?”
Azrael nodded. “Yes. She was a priestess and had high knowledge from antiquity and was to bring all of that forward. But her new assignment, her new learning, would be how to live in the hustle and bustle of a metropolis like New York City and maintain those ideals from the temple.”
“Well, she did that,” Celeste replied, thinking about Aziza’s wondrous all-natural spa and rejuvenation center in Brooklyn.
“Ah, but here on this train where she isn’t able to get the resources she needs, she is very stressed. It is a humbling experience and important for her work going forward to understand why other mortals sometimes don’t have the wherewithal to adopt her very strict rules and guidelines, even though she is correct.”
Peace had replaced passion as she finished off the apple and nibbled on cashews, intermittently taking a sip of water.
“Wow … that’s deep.”
He nodded and released a warm, sweet current of breath against her hair. “Her acute memory of being a priestess is making her very angry about the conditions of this train, when the lesson is for her to learn how to help people to transition to healthier lifestyles without the harsh judgment or criticism. If BK was not otherwise occupied helping Isda, I’m sure he would have cleaned their room and provided whatever she needed—but then he would have blocked the lesson. So, all things work for the greater good.”
“You felt that all the way in here?”
“Absolutely. I was absorbing to learn and I felt her complete disgust.”
Celeste smiled. “Then, uh, I take it you also felt what was going on in room number four.”
He laughed in a slow, easy chuckle and kissed her shoulder. “Absolutely.”
She laughed with him, teasing him as she ate a cashew slowly. “Then you also know that’s not gonna happen up in here with no water, right?”
“Faith … hope … and charity, the greatest of all gifts is charity, Celeste.”
“Oh, no, you are not working biblical rap on me?” She threw her head back and laughed harder, spilling nuts and water as he suddenly pulled her beneath him.
“I can make the sink work,” he murmured with a wide smile.
She looked up at his handsome face, which was curtained in the dark by his long locks. Only moonlight and starlight shone through the window to blend with his blue energy flow.
“This is the land of the goddess, you know,” he said more seriously, then kissed her slowly. “Where in the beginning feminine energy was revered and respected. The Source does not discriminate—both were created equal and majestic. Balanced energies. You cannot have one without the other.”
She touched the side of his face, still amused but losing some of her mirth the hotter he made her. “Yeah, but around here, the goddess is dead.”
“No, she’s not,” he murmured, slowly kissing her neck. “Invaders tried to kill her, but they didn’t succeed. I found one left from the old empire.”
“I haven’t seen Egypt treat women well,” she said, warming to his game and losing her trend of thought as he kissed the cleft of her collarbone.
“Berber tribes … Arab invaders that brought warlike male energy after the Roman and Christian invaders had deposited that here. The original Egyptians, the Nubians,” he murmured against the swell of her breasts, “thoroughly understood the value of the female principle … and I cannot imagine a world without that … now … that … I … know … how powerful … it is.”
His breathing had changed and so had hers. She traced the hard ridges of his chest with the tips of her fingers, loving how the muscles in his
abdomen contracted as she slid her fingers over them to unfasten his jeans.
“You’re sure you can make the sink work?” she murmured, teasing him as she slowly lowered his zipper, then pushed his jeans down over his slim hips to begin a lazy stroking pattern up and over the swell of his tight, magnificent ass.
His captured her nipple in his mouth, suckling it through the fabric for a moment before answering her, allowing that to be a part of his answer. “I can bring the Nile into this car, if that will aid your mercy,” he said in a gravelly tone, then opened the center clasp of her bra to let her breasts bounce free.
The way he looked down at her and the heat that his kiss against her skin produced made her arch. She wanted his mouth and hands on her breasts so badly that she covered them with her own hands, unable to endure the ache the air against them produced. He got the message without her having to say a word and simply stripped off her jeans to discard them along with his on the floor.
“Just promise me you’ll be quiet,” she said on a heavy exhale as he blanketed her again, his shaft pulsing against her inner thighs.
“My word as my bond,” he murmured, taking her mouth and then whispered hotly in her ear, “I will sound like the train.”
“Your intent not to get me pregnant is intact, right?”
For a moment he just stared at her, then closed his eyes and finally nodded. “Yes. I believe so.”
“That didn’t sound very convincing.”
Again he hesitated and then nodded. “I’m all right. I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Trusting him and needing him so badly it hurt, she squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her mouth against the side of his neck as his broad palm slid beneath her ass so he could enter her slowly. Thick, pulsing heat filled her in maddening increments, moving as he’d declared, with the slow rock of the train. Every thrust broke her inhales into short, quiet gasps of appreciation. Losing her mind, she wondered if it was too late to rescind her request to go slowly, soundlessly as she held the broad expanse of his back, knowing he wanted to release his wings so badly but wouldn’t here in the tight confines … wondered if he would keep his word not to bring her humiliation, when that worry was quickly evaporating with his every stroke.
With her legs wrapped around his thighs, she lifted up on every pass to take more of him in each time. Finally his arms began to tremble and he dropped down to crush her, grabbing her ass hard, pulling her to him with sudden bursts of force, yet without changing the pace, breathing hard though his mouth with his head turned. The expression on his face was one of pure agony.
He was so incredibly close to the edge, and she was teetering on the brink of it right along with him. She could feel him straining not to shift gears, not to drop the hammer on his amazing body, to outstrip the train’s lumbering speed, which would definitely out them. To help him, to help them both, on the next up-thrust she whipped her hips in a forceful circle while lifted off the creaking mattress. That didn’t help.
He released a deep, quiet moan next to her ear, a sound so filled with agony that it almost made her start wildly bucking. Her circles and pulls had begun to drive him away from his rhythm. For a few insane seconds he’d lost it, had added an extra beat in the train’s steady drone. Panting, he restored order; in quick, shallow sips of air, she destroyed it. Each time he pulled back on a thrust, she lifted harder and with more force to hasten his return without making the bed sound.
Suffering, for a moment he looked at the floor. Still semirational, she shook her head no. He closed his eyes and spread his knees. Still bent low beneath the top bunk, he took her mouth and with both arms wrapped around her hips, he lifted her onto him fast and hard the way they both needed him to now.
He swallowed her cry as the devastating orgasm hit, moaning low and forcefully back into her mouth as his body wracked in convulsing waves. Once the storm passed, he broke their kiss and slowly lowered her back down and collapsed on top of her.
“How did I do with keeping my promise?” he asked on a series of ragged exhales after a few moments.
“Phenomenal,” she murmured, sprawled beneath him with her eyes closed. “Now you just gotta get that sink to work.”
Dawn kissed the horizon at the same time he kissed her awake.
“I want to show you something,” he murmured, drawing her out of bed. He led her to the window and stood behind her, pulling her back against his chest as he enfolded her in his arms and kissed the crown of her head. “The start of a new day in the motherland.”
A spectacular pageant unfolded before her eyes against the vast horizon of golden sand. Heat waves shimmered up from the ground, making the large, gold-orange orb that seemed to be lifting out of the sand itself appear to be a mirage. Rose-orange splashes of color mixed with dark-blue streaks crisscrossed the sky as though a frenzied angel hand had unleashed a pastel paint palette against it. As the sun rose to take over the sky, it burned away the pinks and blues to dominate the heavens.
Azrael hugged her tighter and sighed into her hair. She covered his arms with hers and leaned into his warm embrace and closed her eyes.
“It’s so beautiful.”
He nodded. “Worth protecting for a thousand more millennia.” He kissed her neck, nuzzling it. “I love you, Celeste. I only want to see this world or the sun rise in it with you here.”
“I love you, too.” She hugged his arms against her more tightly. She couldn’t address the rest of what he’d said. It was a dangerous concept for an angel to consider, not wanting to be immortal just because she was mortal. She would age and die. She knew that was troubling him as she turned in his hold and stared up into his sad, contemplative eyes.
“One day at a time … the Serenity Prayer.”
He nodded and kissed her gently. “I know why the ancient mortals built in stone here after encountering us,” he murmured. “It was to leave themselves behind for us.” He traced her cheek and her eyebrows and the bridge of her nose with trembling fingers as though memorizing her face with every cell in his touch. “If all I had left of you was a temple, Celeste, one with your beauty enshrined on the walls, I would bring incense and fruit and flowers there on a regular pilgrimage, too.”
She hugged him, not wanting to even think so far into the future. The concept that one day she’d have to leave him brought tears to her eyes and she quickly banished it. She and her sisters had quietly ruminated about aging and dying while their lovers remained unchanged, had wept together about it, stressed about it in their private female vent sessions, but she didn’t want to go there now.
“I’ll always be with you, no matter what. I promise.”
“I’m supposed to tell you that,” he said with a sad smile, pushing her backward to look at her. “I’m your angel, but somehow you seem to be mine.”
He was getting stronger here, better able to quickly manifest the things they needed, better able to make instant assessments the more he absorbed information from the very land itself, and the deeper they traveled into the heart of Egypt, she could tell, that seemed to also be making him more introspective, and somehow sadder.
“But I can’t fix the sink,” she said, smiling up at him and trying desperately to make him focus on the here and now.
“Ahhh, there is that.” He turned on the water behind them without even moving or looking at the faucet. “There is that.”
This time when the porter knocked on the door, they were calmly seated on a single seat. The beds were put up, the ladder stowed, old, soiled clothing was packed away, and they were washed up and refreshed. But they again declined the meal offering, which was little more than a sugary Danish, bad juice, and awful coffee. The only thing they accepted was the water, which of course had a surcharge.
But it was amazing what a little stress relief and rest could do. When they all met in the hall to debark at Qena, even Isda seemed much improved. Word passed down the row quickly that between Isda and Bath Kol, they’d s
ecured another van. The advance ground team of angels from Bath Kol’s old barracks and from Isda’s old safe house in Brooklyn had boarded the train in the bar, played a few rounds of cards, had a few drinks, and went scouting for resources.
“Some of us got work done, mon,” Isda said with a sly smile as Azrael passed him when he jumped down to the train platform.
“I’d say the man got work done. Let’s not quibble over semantics,” Bath Kol muttered to Isda under his breath, making Isda laugh.
Although the ribald comment made Celeste’s face flush, she was glad to see Isda laughing, even at her expense. His dazzling white smile flashed within his dark, handsome face, and his eyes no longer seemed as haunted. That change appeared to boost the morale of the entire group as they trudged toward a beat-up, sky-blue jitney bus.
“Where do you find these vehicles, brother?” Gavreel said, shaking his head and helping to stow luggage in the back.
“It’s that or a camel, okay?” Isda said with a shrug. “Count your blessings.”
“I hear you,” Celeste said, climbing on the bus with Aziza, Melissa, and Maggie. “I’ll take a diesel-fuel van any day over a camel funk.”
Aziza slapped her five over a seat and laughed. “Want an orange?”
“I do,” Melissa said. “I’m starving.” She caught it and tore into it as though she hadn’t eaten in three days.
“You’re supposed to feed your woman, man,” Gavreel said under his breath to Paschar as he climbed on.
“Yeah, mon, just can’t abuse a mortal and—”
“Oh, my God, Isda!” Melissa said, then looked out the window. “I’m fine.”
“My bad, my bad … not trying to say anyt’ing untoward, just stating facts as I see dem,” Isda said, laughing, starting up the loud, smoking engine. “We’ll get some grub on the way to Dendera. I know all the brothers are hungry dis morning, too.”
Chapter 9
This mission to grab some grub was to be quick—in and out. No dawdling. They had things to do and places to be, and travel was a process in itself. They covered their heads with the wide scarves that had been provided for them on the bus, as Isda suggested, when they pulled up at a roadside rest stop. Everyone cast concerned glances at each other, but Isda had already jumped out and was walking in.