SOUL MATES (Angels and Demons Book 3)

by Brenda L. Harper

  Stiles nodded. “I heard.”

  “I’m gonna go with a group of friends. I was…I was just wondering if you were going to be there.”

  Her blush deepened, making her discomfort seem to shine on her delicate features. Stiles wanted to put her at ease. She was a young thing, probably not more than twenty, and beautiful. She reminded him a little of Rebecca in her forwardness, but she didn’t look much like her. She had deep burgundy colored hair that revealed gold highlights when she moved a certain way, and green eyes that were as pure as the first grass blades of spring. Her discomfort made him want to promise her almost anything.

  “What’s your name?”

  Her blush deepened. “Caryn.”

  Stiles glanced back at the front of the library, aware that Dylan was somewhere inside. The idea of going to a human party, to dancing with a beautiful girl, appealed to him. He and Rebecca had attended quite a few of these kinds of things in their time, both before Dylan and after, but it had been a long time since the last one. Maybe it was time for a little recreation.

  “If you’ll be there,” he said, “then so will I.”

  Caryn nearly jumped for joy, but contained herself to just the bright shining of her eyes and a touch of a giggle. “I’ll see you then.”

  He watched her rush away, thoughts of clothing choices dancing in her head, and laughed at the carefree expression of life she seemed to represent. Then he turned, wondering if she would disapprove of him showing up at the party in the same jeans and t-shirt he was already wearing. He supposed she would.

  The party began with a picnic. Stiles helped Rachel carry the selection of salads she’d somehow volunteered to make without telling any of the angels living in her house. Rachel was an important part of this community, as made obvious by their granting to her the largest building in town for her library. But it was more than that. Rachel had something of a calming effect on those around her and the town seemed to understand that and embrace it, including her at all the important meetings, especially when they knew the debate could grow heated. She always managed to help people keep their heads and see both sides of the issue. When they saw her coming, the people were always happy. Like now as they made way in the crowd to allow her to walk unencumbered to the buffet table.

  “Thank you, Miss Rachel,” one of the young women behind the buffet table said. “We always look so forward to your salads.”

  Rachel beamed even as a blush touched her cheeks. “I’m just glad to help.”

  “Well, my Douglas really enjoys your potato salad, so I’d say it’s more than just a little help.”

  Rachel just nodded as she slipped her hand through the crook of Stiles’ arm and allowed him to lead her away from the table. They walked slowly around the perimeter of the park, watching as families gathered their children in participation of the feast.

  “This is nice,” Rachel said. “You and I haven’t enjoyed time alone like this in a long time.”

  “I don’t think we ever have. There always seems to be someone else around.”

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  Stiles thought of those people: Rebecca, Jimmy, Wyatt. All gone now. And others…Harry and his family, Rebecca’s other children and their families, Josephine, Dylan.

  Dylan.

  By habit, he searched the faces of those around him for hers. She wasn’t there and he had already suspected she wouldn’t be, but it was ingrained in him to look for her anyway. He’d devoted his life to protecting her for the last sixty years. It was instinct now. And, as much as he hated to admit it, today he resented it.

  For months now she’d been free, and she knew it was important that she make a connection with a new soul mate. Yet, she continued to resist the idea. He didn’t understand. It was his instinct, as an angel, to desire that connection. He had sorely missed it these past forty-three years. The only thing that got him through it, besides Rebecca’s presence in his life all those amazing years, was the knowledge that Dylan would eventually choose him. But now…he wasn’t as convinced as he once was. And he was beginning to wonder if it was time for him to choose another, an angel who wasn’t special, who didn’t have the same oddities that made Dylan who she was. But when those thoughts crossed his mind, he felt disloyal to his mission—to everything he’d given up and all the terrible things he’d done to be here—to watch over Dylan and make sure she fulfilled her purpose.

  The thing was, though, he never felt the disapproval of heaven. He expected to. Whenever an angel tries to go against their purpose, there is this overwhelming sense of disapproval that came from heaven. Granted, Stiles had been cut off from parts of heaven for a long time, but he still felt that basic connection. It was like animal instinct in a human—the flight or fight instinct. It was always there no matter the angel’s situation. But he didn’t feel it. And he didn’t understand what that meant. He had always assumed that becoming Dylan’s soul mate was part of her purpose—part of her destiny—and, therefore, it was part of his. Now…he wasn’t so sure anymore.

  “She worries about you,” Rachel said.

  Stiles glanced at her. “Who?”

  She gave him a look that made it clear she knew he knew who she was talking about. “She’s just struggling right now. Wyatt’s death, Josephine’s new baby—it’s all been a hard adjustment for her.”

  Stiles paused in his step, watching a young mother soothe her toddler over an injured knee. “There are decisions she needs to make. And I’m not sure how much longer everyone can wait for her to make them.”

  “Or how long you can wait.”

  Stiles shrugged. “I’m not an impatient man, but forty years is a long time for anyone to wait. Even an angel.”

  Rachel nodded, a sadness coming into her eyes. “I know you’ve sacrificed a lot for Dylan.”

  “That’s my purpose.”

  “Yes. But you’ve been among the humans for a very long time, Stiles. You’ve developed a strong sense of our emotions. And, as they used to say, even a saint has his limits.”

  Stiles turned away and began walking again. “What about you?” he asked. “What about this flirtation that’s been going on between you and Raphael?”

  Rachel didn’t answer right away. Instead, she distracted herself tugging at a string that hung from the bottom hem of Stiles’ shirtsleeve. He pulled away as he spotted Raphael himself watching them from the far side of the park.

  “Don’t let him break your heart, Rachel,” he said softly.

  She smiled. “I’ve lived a remarkable life, Stiles. But I’ve never made time for a romantic relationship. My books were always my lovers, always the only thing I really wanted or needed. But now…”

  “Just don’t forget that he’s an angel. He doesn’t have the freewill to remain with you at his leisure. He could be called back to heaven at any time, or ordered to leave you and go watch over some important human thousands of miles away.”

  “I know,” Rachel said, reaching up to touch Stiles’ face. “Thank you for caring so much about me. But I am a big girl.”

  Stiles studied her face and saw in her eyes the same stubborn determination he often saw in Dylan’s eyes when she fought to get her own way. He knew no matter what he said she would never change her mind. So he just pressed his lips to her forehead and sent a warning to Raphael:

  If you break her heart, I will make sure you suffer more.

  Trust me, brother, Raphael said, it is I who will suffer the broken heart.

  The food was amazing; the company more carefree than people aware of the threat that loomed constantly over them had the right to be. For just that one night, the community forgot about the dark souls and the wrath they perpetrated on the humans as often as they could. Even Stiles found himself forgetting his troubles for a while.

  After the food was packed and put away and the children were gathered and placed in their beds, a group of musicians gathered in the center of the park in the seashell shaped band shell that was built on a whim a few month
s before by a building enthusiast who’d spent a lot of time at Rachel’s library studying her materials on the old society’s architecture. They played songs that were remnants of the war, many of which were about hope and resilience and survival. There were a few ancient tunes that were remnants of the time before the war, songs about romance and heartbreak, but those were few and the lyrics were mostly lost to time.

  Caryn had been circling Stiles since the picnic had begun, giggling with her friends every time he glanced her way. It reminded him a little of a girl he once knew when Jack James’ group settled in Pennsylvania toward the end of his time with them. Robbie. She’d had something of a crush on Stiles despite the fact that Rebecca was pregnant with Harry at the time.He didn’t even see it until the night Mammon and his crazed buddies descended on the settlement. There’d been a dance that night, too.

  A few songs played before Caryn finally worked up the nerve to move away from her friends and make herself available. Two local boys immediately sought her out, but they quickly scattered when Stiles approached.

  “Would you like to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand with a bit of a flourish.

  Caryn looked like she was going to burst, but she managed to take his hand and stay on her feet as he led the way to the area the town had designated as the dance floor. Stiles turned to face her once they stood among the other couples who were enjoying this excuse to hold each other close in public. She wouldn’t look him in the eye, but she moved quite willingly into his arms. Stiles had to admit it was nice to hold a soft, feminine body close again. He’d forgotten how nice it could be.

  “I think we’re making a few people jealous,” he said to her after a minute.

  Caryn didn’t turn to look like most girls would. She just moved her slight shoulders in a little imitation of a shrug. “Let them be.”

  “Those boys seemed pretty intent on dancing with you.”

  “Those boys are just that…boys. They’re always doing stupid things to try to get my attention.”

  “That’s just because they like you.”

  “That doesn’t mean they can act like fools. They embarrassed me last week when they told everyone that I was going to come to this dance with the two of them.”

  “Is that why you asked me?”

  She looked up at him, a furious blush on her pale cheeks. “You’re so much more mature than them. And I saw you—you and the others—fight those demon things. It was impressive.”

  “Impressive?” Stiles shook his head. “Not impressive. Dangerous and frightening.”

  “You were scared?”

  “I would be stupid not to be scared.”

  “You fought them even though you were scared. That’s even more impressive.”

  Stiles just shook his head again even as he drew Caryn closer to his chest. He found himself watching the other couples around them, the way they moved together, and the little whispers they shared. He’d never fully understood the rituals of mating among humans. When he was a scholar of sorts in heaven, he’d read about it and watched it from a distance, but it all seemed too complicated for its purpose. Being here on Earth and participating in it himself with Rebecca, he still didn’t fully understand. But he was also beginning to learn that no one really did, not even the humans who’d been doing it for generations. But he envied the easiness that grew between couples who were truly compatible with one another.

  “What’s it like for an angel, living here?”

  Stiles focused on Caryn again. “What do you mean?”

  “Is it strange, being on Earth instead of where you come from?”

  “It’s different. It took some getting used to, at first.”

  “Do you like being here?”

  That was a complicated question. He hadn’t. Not at first. He didn’t like the needs his human body needed fulfilled; he didn’t like the emotions that came with having a human body. It was so much easier to experience things with a certain level of—indifference wasn’t quite right, but it was the only word that really worked—in heaven. Feeling everything, especially the physical and emotional pain that came when Joanna stabbed him and left him for dead, was the hardest thing he’d had to get used to. He still struggled with it.

  “I have a purpose to fulfill and being here helps me do that.”

  “A purpose?”

  “A job. God gave me a job to do before he sent me here, and I’m still doing it.”

  “What’s that?”

  Almost as though Caryn’s question had brought her to them, Stiles spotted Dylan coming around the tables that had held the buffet for the picnic, but was now a resting place for tired dancers. She was alone, dressed in a thin-strapped summer dress that clung to her waist and flowed nicely around her legs. The moonlight reflected off her short, blond hair, making it look like she had a small halo around her head. She was so beautiful and so familiar, that something in Stiles’ soul responded when he saw her there. He was drawn to her—needed to be near her. But he found himself wondering if that was just habit, or if he what he felt was really this much talked about human emotion…love.

  “Stiles?”

  He looked down at Caryn, so involved in his own thoughts that he had forgotten her question. She was watching him with such naked admiration that he suddenly had a glimpse of what it was that Dylan must see when he looked at her. It was embarrassing, if he let himself admit it. Embarrassing that, for an angel who had worked so hard for so long to keep his emotions to himself, it was so obvious. He glanced at Dylan again, caught her watching him with clouds dancing over her face, and decided it was time he sought his own happiness instead of depending so much on what Dylan wanted, what Dylan might or might not chose, or on what Dylan did.

  “Let’s not talk about that anymore,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me more about you? What do you do with your time? What do you plan to do with your future?”

  Caryn’s smile was filled with delight. “I work in the library sometimes,” she said…and off she went, talking about things that Stiles only half heard. But that wasn’t the point. The point was to continue feeling her warm, reassuring body in his arms and, maybe, to steal a kiss later in the evening. And that, he was positive, was one desire he would surely be granted.

  Chapter 9

  Dylan stood alone in a dress she borrowed from Rachel and watched Stiles dance with one of the local girls. Carrie or Caryn, she thought her name was. Pretty little thing, but somehow she’d never thought she was Stiles’ type. But maybe she’d never really appreciated what Stiles type was. Or how lonely he might be.

  Rachel was there, too, standing off to the side of the dance floor with Raphael. They were talking quietly, just friends from outward appearances, but Dylan could see the little looks they shared from time to time and the way Rachel’s pinky caught Raphael’s whenever their hands brushed. She was happy for Rachel, really. She just worried that she didn’t fully understand what it was like to love someone who was so different from herself. Wyatt had learned that lesson over and over again. It wasn’t something Dylan wished on anyone, especially someone as gentle as Rachel was.

  The others were there, too. Wilhelm and Donna were dancing, holding each other a little too close as he made her giggle about something Dylan couldn’t even begin to guess. Demetria was standing with a bunch of older women, sharing recipes and discussing children like middle-aged women tended to do. And there were the angels of Raphael’s legion, some dancing with each other or the humans, and some were hanging around the perimeter, watching for trouble. If she didn’t know who they were, she wouldn’t have noticed the steel in their steady gazes. But she did and it was an unnecessary reminder that they were at war and trouble could come at any moment.

  She was, however, grateful that, for the most part, they were all relaxing and having something of a good time. They deserved it. It had been a difficult year, or so. She wished that she could join them, but there was too much water under the bridge for that. Watching the dancers reminded her
of Wyatt. Watching the young mothers who still had their babies in their arms, and those who were constantly glancing back at the dwellings, worrying about babies left at home with older siblings, reminded her of Josephine and her new baby.

  She should be there. She should be helping Josephine with the baby, giving her advice and support. But she was here, fighting a battle she wished was not hers alone. Alone. That seemed to be the theme of her life these days. She was alone in the leadership of this legion of angels and gargoyles and humans, alone in the search for a way to stop the demons, and alone in her struggle to accept her role as the guardian of humanity.

  Dylan knew she could choose her soul mate now and she would no longer be truly alone. But she also knew that once she made that choice, her freewill became more of a footnote than the primary thing that set her apart from all the other angels. Even though she knew that made no difference in the bigger picture, it was something she stubbornly held on to just the same. Maybe it was the human part of her—that teeny, tiny piece of humanity that struggled to be heard within her angel DNA. Whatever it was, she was reluctant to let it go.

  She turned and headed back to Rachel’s. She was nearly there when she felt a dark presence materialize behind her. It was a split second, and then she felt the cold tendrils of a dark soul touch her brighter one. Anger immediately washed through her, anger so intense that her fingernails bit into the palms of her hands as she balled them into fists.

  “You can’t,” she said as she fought the demon’s attempt to possess her body. “You can’t do this to me.”

  “I can do what I wish, when I wish,” a voice said in her head. “That’s one of the perks of being like this.”

  Dylan fought the soul for a moment, but the more she fought it, the more ingrained it became in her soul. So she stopped, stood very still, and closed her eyes. When she did, she could feel the thoughts and memories of this demon.