by Barbara Taub
Her hands unfastened the falls of his evening trousers, slipped inside, and closed around him. Score!
“It’s true,” she gasped. Thomas made an inquiring sound against her breast. “About the size of your feet being proportional to the size of your…” Her hands slipped up and down his length.
Thomas groaned again and froze. Finally, with a huge breath, he pulled away from her.
“No.” She blinked up at him and moaned. “Not the Protector face. You can’t seriously be considering…”
“Maybe we should stop.” Gripping each arm of her chair, he managed to lurch to his feet. “Maybe we should think first.”
She looked up at him for a moment and shook her head. Before he could say anything, she launched from the chair in a smooth rush that ended with her arms around his neck and his own arms closing helplessly around her. “I’ve been thinking about this for a year. We don’t look it, but we’re both over eighteen. Thomas, I think this is why the Metro charged us a year. We started by disliking each other. Over the past year, I learned to love you as a friend and as a brother. But I need you now.”
He still looked worried. “Have you ever…?”
Leila laughed up at him. “Thomas! Focus.”
He took her hand and pulled her toward his room. Stopping at his carpetbag, he pulled out a condom. “Had these for months,” he confessed as she made big eyes at him and laughed again. He watched as she moved to the bed, carefully peeling off her stiff jeans. His own eyebrows waggled happily as he realized there was nothing underneath. “Don’t read anything into it,” she told him. “They didn’t do thongs in the 1890s…”
Propped up on her elbows, she lay across his bed to watch him undress. And maybe this should have been awkward too. But their payment to the Metro, the year of fear and laughter and working together, had removed any shyness.
He lay beside her and he was her Thomas, so carefully stroking her, telling her silly things like how much he liked her belly button, and then kissing it and moaning and repeating he really liked her belly button. They had to figure out how to put on the 1890s-style condom, and they laughed when she said Marnie knew how to do condoms with her teeth. Then he said, “Trust me?” and he was coming into her and it hurt just right and she looked at him and he was just…Thomas.
She woke in the middle of the night spooned against him, his big hand splayed over her stomach. Carefully, so she wouldn’t wake him, she turned toward him. Despite the moonlight coming through the tiny window, the room was dark and she could barely make out the shape of his face. But she knew every curve anyway. She pressed a soft kiss to the pillow next to his face. “I trust you, Thomas.”
In the moonlight, his eyes gleamed silver. “Then don’t waste those kisses, Princess.” He laughed and pulled her mouth to his.
Sun poured in the little window as Thomas shook her shoulder. “We have to hurry, or we’ll miss breakfast.”
“Way to bask in the afterglow,” she grumbled. “Okay, but I can barely move, so you’re going to have to wait while I at least take a quick bath.” From her bath she watched him shave and imitated the faces he made. He splashed her and warned he’d eat her breakfast too if she didn’t hurry.
Pulling on one of the new dresses, she raced ahead of him to the door and was pulling it open when his arms came around her and her mouth was open for his kiss and she was laughing so hard. The door swung open to reveal Raymond and Sam. Sam looked amused; Raymond did not. At all.
“Morning, Donor,” Leila chirped.
The voyage to London took six days. Leila would have been delighted to spend all six in their cabin. Even Thomas was willing to miss the occasional meal, especially since Raymond’s eyes took on a distinctly reddish glow whenever they rested on him. Looking back, Leila always saw those first few days as a present from Thomas, each one a perfect jewel out of time to stand on its own in her memory.
On the morning of the third day, however, the captain made an announcement over breakfast. “We are sorry to inform you of an unfortunate incident which occurred last night. Apparently two passengers from the third-class cabins were involved in an altercation. We found the body of one who had suffered a knife wound. The other gentleman is missing and presumed to have gone overboard.”
He paused as a murmur swept through the crowded dining room. As several people called out questions, he raised a hand and continued. “There was a quantity of spilled liquor on the dead man, and he held a silver flask, which we assume from its quality to have been an object of theft and perhaps cause of the altercation. We urge all ladies to stay on the first cabin decks and remain careful of possessions. If you have any worries, please see one of the stewards immediately, but we are assuming this unfortunate incident was the result of a disagreement between those two passengers.”
Leila looked speculatively at Sam. “Where is your silver pocket flask?”
Sam sighed. “I really liked that flask.”
Neither Leila nor Thomas were surprised when Sam and Raymond followed them back to their cabin. They told them there were things they had to know and little time left, since Haven obviously knew how to find them. But once they arrived, both seemed unwilling to begin. Sam sat back and observed as usual. Raymond paced back and forth while Leila and Thomas held hands and waited. Finally Leila asked the question she’d been avoiding. “What was she like? My … the other Donor?”
Raymond looked surprised. “I have no idea. I’m not going to meet her for over a century. I don’t even know her name.”
“Suzanne,” said Thomas suddenly. “Her name is going to be Suzanne Thérèse Marsaut. She’ll be small and beautiful and have red hair and green eyes. People will say she laughs all the time, but she has a temper. She’ll play the piano, and she’ll love her little sister Cécile. And Cécile will miss her and will talk about her as she gives her brother-in-law cooking lessons.”
In the silence, her hand tightened around Thomas’ as she looked at Raymond. “What will you tell her?”
“Nothing.” Raymond went to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. He looked back at the others, but Sam and Thomas shook their heads. Leila gave him a steady look and held out her hand. As he handed her the glass, he shook his head. “But if I could, I would tell her our daughter is going to be remarkable.” Raymond sat down in front of them and raised his glass slightly to Leila. “Right now, there are things I have to tell both of you.”
Leila gravely touched her glass to his. “Are you going to start with who you—and Sam—really are?”
Raymond smiled faintly. “As a matter of fact, I am. How much do you know about Nephilim?”
“Not much,” Thomas answered cautiously. “That’s why we’re going to London to talk to my grandfather.”
Raymond nodded. “Sebastian will be able to give you a lot of information. But he doesn’t know about the war yet. And he can’t know about your part in it. Have you ever heard of Raqia?”
At Thomas’ tentative nod, Raymond looked relieved. “Many creation stories have a similar version. The name comes from one story which says the earth and the water were separated from the heavens by Raqia. Although it’s usually translated as ‘sky,’ it actually just means ‘expanse.’ Many believe a group of angels, led by an angel named Samyaza, wanted to live with humans and to pass on certain knowledge. Unfortunately, many of their offspring weren’t equipped to handle the gifts they inherited from their parents. When they caused disasters, the angels who had not fallen urged their Creator to take action.
“As punishment, all the Fallen were imprisoned in Raqia for seventy-seven generations. At the end of their imprisonment, they set up two Courts there, Watchers and Fallen. The Court of the Watchers mirrors the structure of Heaven. Its residents see their role toward humans as observers. The other houses the Court of the Fallen, who still believe they should interact with humans. In special circumstances, offspring of the Fallen, the Nephilim, were allowed to join the Courts as well.”
Raymond’s mouth twi
sted in a wry smile. “One of Samyaza’s generals, an angel named Ramiel, was their jailer for the seventy-seven generations. Afterward, he became Prince of the section of Raqia containing the Fallen who were still committed to helping humans. Leila, I’ve had a lot of names over the years. One of the oldest is Ramiel.”
“I just knew it.” Leila sighed. “My Donor is the devil. What does it make me?”
“Apparently, not surprised.”
“Well, my eyes do glow.”
“Yeah, and you should see her certain times of the month.” Thomas shuddered theatrically before quickly dodging out of elbow range.
“Thomas,” reproved Leila with dignity, “I’m not sure my Donor wants the details of my menstrual cycle. Do you Raymond?”
Raymond glanced helplessly at Sam. “Oh, yeah.” Sam nodded at Leila. “Definite family resemblance.”
Thomas gave Sam a speculative look. “Would Sam by any chance be short for Samyaza?”
Sam bowed.
Raymond explained that the war just starting in the 1890s looked as if it was being fought between the two Courts in Raqia, using the Haven and Gifts as their human proxies. And maybe, he conceded, that was actually the case, since there were unsympathetic elements in each Court. But the leaders of both sides denied it. He blew out a frustrated sigh. “The problem is, if it isn’t either of us, then who is behind it? And what do they want?”
“It doesn’t matter right now,” countered Sam. “Our seers can’t penetrate Haven to see what their ultimate goals are. But if they win this war, there won’t be any Gifts left, and untold numbers of humans will be sacrificed.” Sam went on to explain about the time pivot points and another couple named Gaby and Luic who also had a role to play.
“But we tried,” Leila protested. “We used Thomas’ heartknife and my—”
Sam shook his head slightly, and his eyes flickered over to Raymond.
Leila’s eyes narrowed, but she finished smoothly. “…my hand over Thomas’ didn’t do anything. Maybe we have to have the other couple for everything to work.”
Sam gave her the barest smile of approval. “As far as we can tell, we need Gaby and Luic for balance. You and Thomas each have ties to the two Raqia Courts—Thomas with his Watcher heritage and you, of course, with your Fallen … donor.”
Raymond glared.
“And we think somehow Gaby and Luic will have ties to both Haven and Gifts.”
During the rest of the voyage, Sam taught Thomas about the Watcher Court and Raymond told Leila about the Fallen. For the first time, Leila looked forward to Thomas’ demands for food because it gave them a break from the intense sessions with Sam and Raymond. When the four got together, relations were further strained by Sam’s suggestion that Thomas return with him to the Watcher’s Court for further training, coupled with Raymond’s insistence that he could best protect Leila at Fallen Court. Leila tried to defuse the situation by explaining that they had to find another couple and complete their task.
They didn’t discuss their lessons with each other. Instead, by unspoken agreement, every moment alone was spent in Thomas’ bed. Loving Thomas, Leila realized, was about laughter and friendship and a fair amount of teasing. She tried to ignore the feeling each moment had to be committed to memory as if it would be the last.
When their ship docked in Southampton, there was no sign of Raymond or Sam. “After everything else,” grumbled Thomas, “they could at least have sprung for the train tickets to London.”
“Mr. Chapel?” Thomas stiffened as a voice he knew well sounded behind him. He took a breath and turned.
“I’m Sebastian Chapel.” Thomas’ grandfather held out his hand to Thomas. “I have a carriage waiting.”
Except for his clothes, Sebastian Chapel looked exactly like the solicitor who would give Leila the jewels in the future London. Almost as tall as Thomas, he wore his air of aristocratic authority with the same elegance as his impeccably tailored Edwardian suit. She clenched her jaw against the urge to giggle when he offered them tea and biscuits in the first-class compartment of their train to London. Politely, Sebastian asked them to explain what they wanted from him. Thomas and Leila had already agreed on a ruthlessly edited version that didn’t mention any future events.
Sebastian listened attentively. “Sam and I have worked together for a long time, so I know there are things you’re not telling me. But before we go any further, there is one thing you need to know. When I got a telegram from Seattle telling me to ask you about something called Grande Caramel Macchiato, I asked a colleague to travel to Seattle and make inquiries. He sent a telegram saying a couple named Gabrielle and Luic LeMuir had arrived in Seattle and were asking questions about you.”
Leila turned to Thomas. “We need to get in touch with them right away.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Sebastian pulled a telegram from his pocket and handed it to Leila. Thomas peered over her shoulder as she opened it.
REGRET TO INFORM YOU LUIC AND GABRIELLE LE MUIR KILLED IN EXPLOSION IN SEATTLE.
During the rest of the trip to London, they discussed their next-thing. Thomas’ grandfather pointed out that the attempts on their lives were sure to continue and urged them to seek shelter. Although he offered his protection, Sebastian thought the only place they would both be safe was Raqia. Thomas, he urged, needed to go to the Court of the Watchers to learn about his Nephilim heritage and develop his skills. Leila, through her relationship with Raymond, would be admitted to the Court of the Fallen.
Thomas flatly refused. “I’m not going without Leila.”
She squeezed his hand.
He faced Sebastian. “Leila needs me to take care of her.”
She frowned.
“And look what happened in Seattle. I was always having to keep other men away from her.”
Her eyes glowed.
“Who knows what will happen if I’m not around?”
Leila growled.
Sebastian shook his head and addressed Leila. “I don’t agree with Thomas.”
She turned toward him approvingly.
“But you’re a young girl, and it’s our responsibility to do what’s best for you. Thomas and I will talk it over and…”
“Not. The. Boss. Of. Me.” Leila’s demonic rasp filled the compartment. “If I want to strip naked and date every man in London, you Chapels don’t get to stop me. And if I want to make sure Thomas stays safe by having both of us go to separate Courts, you do not get to make decisions for me.”
By the time they reached London, Leila was in full meltdown. Thomas was again the angry young man she’d met in France. Even Sebastian’s exquisite manners showed signs of strain.
At Sebastian’s London townhouse, they avoided each other. Leila spent her time in a sunny little parlor while Thomas was closeted in the library with his grandfather. Finally on the third day, Thomas came looking for her. She had her back to the room as she looked out at the park across the street. Her shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t turn.
He stopped behind her. “Leila. You win.”
“I win what?” She didn’t move. And why does it feel more like losing? Say you miss me and you’re sorry. Say you love me. Say it, Thomas.
“If you don’t want to be with me, we’ll go to different Courts.”
“Wrong answer.” She turned to face him. “But fine. I’ll go pack and we can ask Sebastian to take us to the Metro.”
His eyes were closed and his cheeks held angry red splotches as she swept past him.
GABY AND LEILA, Chapter Thirteen
Between, Raqia
Gaby wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting on the bench in the Metro station. In the ghost stories Carey loved, dead people usually didn’t realize what happened to them. But Gaby knew exactly. She had killed Luic, broken her promise to return to the twins, and failed to save Null City. Let’s see … anything else? Oh, yeah. She was dead.
Death was surprisingly quiet. After a while, she admitted it: death was a
lso boring. The Between Metro station had no walls she could see, only pillars covered with mosaics that reminded her of looking through a kaleidoscope. With a quick, shuddering glance up the nearest pillars to the vast ceiling above, she turned her attention to the platform. She’d already moved the benches into two groups of three aligned precisely on either side of the short wall at the center of the platform. After straightening the timetables in their little rack, she was giving serious consideration to the state of the grout in the tiles of the wall’s mosaic sign declaring BETWEEN STATION, Ø CITY METRO. So, even though she felt vaguely guilty about it, she was actually interested when a girl wearing stiff, old-fashioned jeans over embroidered boots came onto the platform.
“Hey.” The girl’s soft drawl was at odds with her impatient frown. “Are you Gaby?”
“Yes.” Gaby looked at her doubtfully. “Does that make you the Angel of Death?”
The frown vanished as the girl choked on her laughter. “Nobody ever accused me of being the Angel of anything at all. I’m Leila Rice, and I really hoped to meet you before you … you know…”
“Died?” Gaby shrugged. “I was supposed to meet you too, and um … Thomas … but our timing sucks.”
“Our plans to save the world hit a big snag with that one.” Leila flung herself onto the bench, hands thrust into her pockets. “But Thomas isn’t coming. When we heard about you and Luic, Thomas’ stick-up-his-butt grandfather and my Donor both said we needed to get to a place where Haven couldn’t touch us, at least until we can figure out how we’re all supposed to capture our pivot point. Problem was, the only places we could think of were the Courts, but we couldn’t go to the same ones.”
She hunched her shoulders and glared at the boots thrust out in front of her. “Thomas can be annoying as hell, and we argue all the time. But this is the first time we ever really fought. The more I yelled, the quieter he got. When he got on the Metro to Watchers Court, he didn’t say anything. But at the last minute he held on so tight…”