by S. J. West
“I take it from what you said to Jered that you don’t believe Silas is on that planet anymore. Why do you think his son was participating in the fight?”
“To encourage a larger fight to break out, most likely. Helena uses people to promote chaos in the universe. I’m sure starting a war on Cephas simply progresses whatever agenda she has at the moment.”
“Do you think she’s on a crusade of some sort?”
Ethan begins to shake his head. “I don’t know if she has a particular plan in mind or if she simply wants to cause as much destruction as she can. There’s no telling what’s going on in that twisted sense of logic of hers.”
Ethan glances down at the grill before walking over to the table to retrieve our dinner plates. I take this as meaning that the meal is finally cooked and we can eat! I’m so excited I begin to smile like an idiot.
“I can’t believe I’m about to eat shrimp,” I tell him in awe of the meal he’s prepared.
“I’m surprised your mother or Enis never went to Earth to get some for you if you wanted to try it so desperately,” he says while placing two of the shrimp skewers on my plate.
“You might as well add an extra one,” I tell him, already knowing two won’t be enough for me.
Ethan smiles and obliges my request for a third skewer.
“I’m sure they would have, but while Lucifer was full-on evil, they were ordered by him to stay on Sierra and to not return to Earth unless they were told to come. I guess they just got used to not being on Earth and lost their desire to go back there. They both seem to want to return now, though, since Anna is being threatened by the other rebellion angels, or at least the ones who decided to remain on Hale’s side. I still can’t believe some of them didn’t accept God’s forgiveness when He offered it to them.”
“Rebellion angels have always been stupid and stubborn,” Ethan says with complete disdain for his fellow angels. “I’ve never understood them, but then again, I suppose I wasn’t built to comprehend that level of idiocy.”
“Hey now,” I warn good-naturedly, “watch how you talk about rebellion angels around me. My mom and uncle used to be on the wrong side of the argument you know.”
“Yes, but they’ve recovered and realize which side of the fight they should actually be on.”
I can’t really argue against that point.
After Ethan loads my plate with shrimp, a lobster tail, and the sea trout, I know I don’t have room for a sampling of his side dishes. I guess I should have known he would have already thought about that. After I sit down at the table, he brings over the two covered dishes and sets them down. When he removes their covers, I see that they contain two smaller plates filled with each side dish, stacked one over the other to prevent them from touching. Ethan sets a plate of the potatoes and a plate of the asparagus and mushroom dish on either side of my dinner plate.
“I hope you like everything,” he says, taking the remaining side dish plates and placing them beside his own table setting.
Once he takes his seat, I see no reason not to dig into the meal with gusto.
As soon as the first succulently sweet shrimp enters my mouth, I feel like I must have died and stepped straight through the pearly white gates.
“Oh dear Lord in Heaven, this tastes so good!” I practically squeal, which earns me a smile of pride from Ethan.
“I’m glad you like it, and I feel privileged to be the first person to introduce you to seafood.”
“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything po pood …”
Po pood? What the …
I immediately lift my hands to my lips and notice they feel hot and swollen.
“Jules?” Ethan says in alarm as he stares at me like I’ve grown a second head out of my shoulders.
At the moment, that feels like exactly what’s happened.
“Meh pung’s mowen!” I say in alarm, but even I wouldn’t have been able to decipher my gibberish as meaning “my tongue’s swollen.”
Apparently Ethan doesn’t need me to tell him what’s wrong. From the expression of horror on his face, I can tell he knows I’m in trouble.
His next movements are so quick all I see is a blur of motion. Before I know it, I’m safely cradled in Ethan’s arms, and he phases us to what looks like the interior of a well-kept, but unassuming, kitchen in the lower part of an old house.
“Desmond!” Ethan shouts, unintentionally causing my ears to ring and my head to hurt with the volume of his booming voice.
Ethan takes another lungful of air in to shout out Desmond’s name again, but luckily for my ears and head, Desmond phases into the kitchen beside us.
“What’s wrong, Ethan?” he immediately asks, looking between Ethan and my face.
Desmond’s eyes show his shock, and I wonder if my head has ballooned to the size of a watermelon.
“What happened?” Desmond quickly asks Ethan.
“She ate some shrimp,” he replies in a rush to get the words out. “I think she’s having an allergic reaction to it.”
“A quite severe one if you ask me,” Desmond says. “Jules, are you having any trouble breathing?”
I feel sure the sound of my newly acquired wheeze is answer enough for Desmond.
He wastes no time and phases away but returns within just a few seconds holding a small black metallic tube of some sort.
“Sit her down,” Desmond orders Ethan.
Ethan sets me in one of the wooden kitchen chairs at the table. He makes to move away, but I grab ahold of one of his hands, needing the reassurance of his touch in that moment. Without questioning me, he squeezes my hand, letting me know that he’s not going anywhere.
Desmond bends down on a knee in front of me and places one end of the black tube he’s holding against a patch of the skin on my thigh that’s peeking through the illusion hem of my skirt.
“This is going to sting a little bit,” he warns me, “but you should feel better almost instantly.”
When Desmond presses down on the other end of the tube, I feel a slight bit of pressure and a stinging sensation as what I presume to be medicine enters into my bloodstream. Almost instantly, I feel the constriction of my throat lessen and find it much easier to breathe.
“Are you feeling better?” Desmond asks me, showing me his winning grin and soothing bedside manner.
I nod my head. I know if I try to talk, I’ll just end up embarrassing myself because my tongue is still swollen.
“Good,” Desmond says before standing back up. “Luckily, Ethan brought you to me instead of the doctors on your world. They don’t have access to the drug I just gave you, which should clear everything up and have you feeling better by morning. If you had had this reaction on your world, they probably would have kept you in a hospital for a few days hooked up to an IV bag and administered a good dose of antihistamines. The only side effects you should feel from what I just gave you is dizziness and perhaps some nausea. It’s also going to make you feel drowsy, so I suggest you go home and get some rest. Tomorrow you’ll feel a lot better. I promise.”
My heart sinks at the thought of his orders. I’ve totally screwed up my first date with Ethan, and he’ll probably just chalk it up to a catastrophe averted with me. The odds of him asking me out again are slim to none, and just the thought of that possibility makes me sadder than I thought it would. I can’t even make myself look up at Ethan I feel so embarrassed by the whole situation. All I want to do is go home, get out of my fancy dress, and crawl underneath the covers of my bed to hide from the world for a little while.
“Thanks for your help,” Ethan says to Desmond, shaking his friend’s hand.
“Anytime, brother,” he replies. “I’m just glad you got her here before things got any worse. I can’t say I’ve ever seen a food allergy that severe before.”
“It’s all my fault,” Ethan says, sounding like a man guilty of a heinous crime. “I never should have fed her shellfish. I didn’t even consider the possibility that s
he might be allergic to it.”
“Bon’t,” I tell him, squeezing the hand he still holds and hoping he understands that I really mean “don’t.” He shouldn’t feel an ounce of guilt for something that was my idea. I was the one who begged him to make seafood. He didn’t force it down my throat. At least I was able to taste the succulent meat once in my life, because now I know I never will again.
“She’s right,” Desmond tells Ethan. “None of this was your fault or hers for that matter. It was just an accident. Now, why don’t you take her home so she can get some rest? That’s the best remedy for her right now. Her body has literally gone through a shock, and it needs some time to recover from it.”
Ethan nods and leans down to pick me up into his arms again. I would protest, but, well, for one, I can’t even speak well enough for him to understand what I would say, and secondly, I like having him hold me. It makes me feel safe, and that’s a sensation I haven’t felt in quite some time. It may not be the “woman of modern times” thing to admit, but being held by someone who seems to care about your well-being is comforting. It makes Ethan even more attractive to me to know that he seems to feel protective of me.
“I’ll make sure she gets plenty of rest. I won’t leave her side tonight,” Ethan promises Desmond.
“Good. Just let me know if anything unexpected happens. I don’t foresee any complications arising, but you never know. I’ll be here if you need me.”
“Thank you,” Ethan says before phasing me back home.
Thankfully, my mom and Uncle Enis aren’t in my apartment anymore. I really don’t have the energy to deal with their worry.
Without asking permission, Ethan carries me into my dark bedroom and lays me down on the bed with my head resting on a pillow. He reaches over toward my nightstand and turns on the lamp there, giving the area surrounding us a soft glow. He then turns back toward me and slips off my shoes, setting them down on the floor next to the bed.
When he looks me in the eyes again, he asks, “Where can I find some pajamas for you to change into?”
I point directly behind him to a chest of drawers.
“Second drawer,” I’m able to say intelligibly. It wasn’t exactly the clearest speech since my tongue is still slightly swollen, but it was at least understandable.
Ethan walks over and opens the drawer, pulling out the top T-shirt and matching shorts he finds there. I don’t actually own a pair of fancy pajamas. I prefer shirts and shorts. For one thing, you never know what might happen in the middle of the night. What if there was a fire and I had to run out of the building? I would rather be in regular clothes than silky pink pajamas and fluffy house shoes.
I see Ethan take notice of what’s printed on the front of the black T-shirt he’s holding.
“Twisted Fate,” he reads, looking at the words and the guitar embroidered with white thread. “Is that a music group here?”
“Yes,” I say sitting up on the bed and swinging my legs over the side. “They’re my favorite rock band.”
Ethan hands me the clothing.
“Do you need any help changing clothes?” he asks in such a way that I know he only wants to be helpful. He isn’t trying to use the situation to his advantage in any other respect.
“I think I can manage,” I tell him. “But thank you for the offer.”
“All right then, I guess I’ll go sit out in the living room and check up on you from time to time. If you need me, just call out my name. I’ll hear you.”
Ethan walks out of the room and closes the door behind him. I do almost call out his name but not because I feel sick. I begin to have the same strange sensation of loneliness that I felt earlier in the day when he brought me home from the battlefield. There’s an emptiness to the room now that he’s left it that I don’t like.
I quickly change clothes and go to the bathroom to brush my teeth and put my hair up into a ponytail. Once I’m done, I walk into the living room and find Ethan reading a book that I don’t remember ever owning. Obviously, he phased home and retrieved it to pass the time with.
“What are you reading?” I ask as I walk over and sit down beside him on the couch, curling my legs up and pulling the throw blanket I had draped over the back of it to cover me.
“It’s a book about the last Great War on Earth,” he tells me.
“Are you a history buff?”
“About Earth’s history, yes,” he admits, closing the book so he can give me his undivided attention. “Are you feeling all right? Is something wrong?”
I shrug my shoulders and look away from him for a moment before working up my courage to look back at him. The concern I see in his eyes for my welfare compels me to be more truthful than I normally would be in this situation. Or perhaps it’s simply because I feel strangely comfortable enough to tell him the real reason I came out here.
“Every time you leave me,” I say, feeling a little nervous and excited by his response to my words, “I start to feel lonely. It’s almost like you’re not supposed to leave me. Does that make any sense?”
Ethan grins understandingly, and I have to wonder if he feels the same way too.
“Yes,” he tells me. “It makes perfect sense.”
He stretches out his left arm as if silently beckoning me to lean up against him to rest my head. I don’t need a verbal invitation. A physical one works just fine.
As I snuggle up next to his warmth, he reopens his book and asks, “Would you like me to read to you?”
“Well, if anything is a surefire bet to put me to sleep, it’s definitely a history book,” I confess.
I hear and feel Ethan chuckle at my words, but I think he appreciates my honesty. As he begins to read, I find the cadence of his voice comforting and the material in the book about as dry as I thought it would be. Within a few minutes, my eyes begin to droop of their own accord. Just before I fall asleep, I feel Ethan kiss the top of my head, which is resting comfortably against his shoulder.
“Sweet dreams,” he murmurs.
I smile. It isn’t exactly the type of kiss I was hoping we would end our first date with, but I’ll take it.
CHAPTER 11
When I wake up the next morning, I find myself lying on my side in bed safely tucked underneath the covers. I only need one guess as to who carried me to bed and made sure I stayed warm throughout the night. My heart aches with a slight emptiness I don’t fully understand. I lift a hand to cover my chest, trying to figure out if I’m still feeling the aftereffects of my food allergy or if something else is wrong. I quickly come to the conclusion that it’s something else. Luckily, I know just how to fix my dilemma.
I toss my covers aside and get out of bed. I’m relieved to find that Desmond was right about my quick recovery. I don’t even feel drowsy anymore, for which I’m grateful. Today is the day I’m finally supposed to meet the Empress of Cirrus and receive the down payment for my tracking services. I’ve heard so much said about Empress Anna Devereaux that I feel a little nervous about meeting her. Not only does she control the most powerful cloud city on Earth, but she is also Ethan’s commander. My mom told me that Ethan only takes orders from God and Anna, in that order. Anyone who is strong enough to control a regiment of War Angels has to be someone formidable. I just pray I can hold my own while I’m with her.
I decide to take a quick shower and spruce myself up for the day ahead. Normally, I wouldn’t put on much makeup, but considering the company I’ll be keeping today, I put on just a touch more than I normally would so I don’t look completely washed out. For some reason, I’m a bit paler than usual this morning. I can only assume it’s a side effect from the fiasco that was my first date with Ethan the night before.
My hair still looks good though, so I just run a brush through it to straighten it back out. I keep my clothing simple with a plain white button up, black jeans, and matching boots. I’m almost positive Ethan will want to travel among the stars after my meeting with Anna and search for Helena’s whereabouts for a while.
However, I have a feeling it will be a waste of time. I doubt she lets anyone find her unless she wants to be found. But if I’m out tracking Helena down, that means I’m spending time with Ethan, which is just fine by me.
The ache in my chest when I first woke up completely disappears when I walk into my living room and hear the laughter of my mother. I look over at the small dinette I have to the left of the kitchen area and see her sitting there with Uncle Enis and Ethan. All of them are smiling and laughing while they eat what looks and smells like breakfast.
Ethan is the first one to see me enter the room, since his vantage point from the table offers him a view of my bedroom door. It makes me wonder if he did that on purpose so he could watch for my emergence this morning.
After spying my reentry into the world, he stands from his chair and walks over to me while asking, “How are you feeling? Did you sleep well?”
“I feel great, actually,” I tell him, not having to lie.
I truly feel quite wonderful now that I’m in the same room with him. However, that tidbit of information I don’t reveal to Ethan. I’ve only known the man for one day, yet I feel like the rest of the days of my life will always need him in them. I have no idea what’s wrong with me. I’m usually not one of those women who feels incomplete without a man in her life, but I can’t seem to shake the feeling that Ethan isn’t just a man or an angel; he’s something else to me that I can’t quite put a label on yet. All I know is that the ache in my chest has been replaced with joy and contentment, and the reason for that is Ethan.
“Did your face really blow up like a puffer fish, Jules?” Uncle Enis asks from his seat at the table, unable to control his chuckling at my expense. “I would have given good money to see that happen.”
I witness my mother playfully slap Uncle Enis on the arm, but I can tell she’s just barely able to stifle her own laughter.
“Now, Enis,” she tells him, “an allergic reaction like that could have been fatal if Ethan hadn’t reacted as quickly as he did.”
“Oh, I know,” Uncle Enis says to her, “but we never would have let her go on that date if we didn’t trust him to take care of her.”