She saw a beautiful little girl dancing in a meadow with her equally beautiful mother. She saw laughter on their lips and words of love twirling in the air around them as the mother sang some song Dylan didn’t know. And she heard a man’s laughter.
She knew who this was, knew who the woman and child were.
“Rebecca.”
You don’t say her name! The demon screamed as his soul loosened from Dylan’s for just an instant.
“You’re Jack James. You’re Rebecca’s father.”
Shut up!
“You fought for the end of the war, for a world where Rebecca could bring children into the world without having to hide them away in tunnels.”
Stop!
Dylan thought of Rebecca, flooding her mind with memories of her friend, memories that included Wyatt and Stiles and Josephine, memories that showed Jack his daughter with her children…with Harry. Memories of good times, of laughter and happy tears and all the things that define a good life.
Jack fought her, his soul squeezing at hers, trying to control what went on in her mind, to make her stop. But the harder he fought, the more intense the memories became. Finally, Jack pulled out of her body, but then he touched her and something like an electric shot burst through her body. The last thing she remembered before falling to the ground was Jack’s voice in her head:
I will take the orb. And I will rule these pathetic fools. I will have my revenge.
When Dylan was next conscious, she was no longer in her earthly form, but ethereal and floating in the beautiful garden that marked the outer borders of heaven. She didn’t feel the same overwhelming sense of happiness she’d felt the last time she was here. She felt concern. She moved among the bushes, the trees, and flowers of so many varieties and species that she had never seen most of them. She brushed against the petals of one flower and watched as pollen spilled like fairy dust over the ground below. Immediately, more flowers sprang up like some sort of magic.
Dylan.
She turned and recognized Wyatt even though he was no longer in a form she knew. He, like Rebecca had been the last time she visited here, was in a smoky sort of form that looked like her Wyatt, like the Wyatt she met on that long ago afternoon beside a river. He was young again, standing tall and proud as he had back then, his hair full and thick again, his smile as bright as it ever was on those rare occasions when he shared it with her back then.
It hurt to see him.
You don’t belong here, Dylan.
“I miss you,” she said as she rushed to him, as their smoky forms melded together and became like one. “I miss you so much.”
I know. But you have to be strong.
“I don’t want this, Wyatt. I want things to go back to the way they were. I want you and Josephine, I want our family back together, like we were years ago when Jo was just a baby. I want—”
But it isn’t about what you want anymore. It’s about the people. It’s about everything we fought for during the war.
“We fought so that we could be together.”
We fought so that humanity could survive. And, thanks to you, they did. But now they need you to make sure they stay on the right path.
Dylan pulled away from Wyatt, emotion churning visibly in her ethereal colors. “You never wanted this. You never understood—”
Things are different here, Dylan. I understand things in a way that I was incapable of understanding before. And you…I was so blessed to have you in my life. You are so much more than anyone knew, even Stiles. You are powerful in ways that will surprise even you. I never…
“Never what?”
I never should have held you back. I never should have tried to corral you. You are a true savior, Dylan. And you must embrace that. He moved toward her. You should also know that you are not alone. You are never alone. You have the full support of every soul here. Jimmy, Rebecca, souls you loved, souls you protected, and souls you never met…they’re all determined to help you live up to your purpose. And the angels…
Wyatt moved closer to her, happiness swirling in his aura even as she read it in the expression on his face.
Where you go, I go, he said. The meaning has changed, but the spirit is still there. I love you, Dylan, perhaps more now than ever before. I will no longer be selfish and keep you from your purpose. But I will guide you and support you as best as I can. I will always be here for you.
Dylan moved into him and took solace from the feel of his presence mixed with hers. But then something changed in him.
There is a man who will come into your life soon. He is not what he seems, but he has knowledge you will need. Just…be very careful around him.
“What about this whole soul mate thing? Can’t you—”
No, Dylan. It must be someone capable of sharing the burden with you, someone who has abilities that can complement and support yours. It has to be an angel.
“I don’t know if I want to be connected to someone else.”
You also don’t want to do this alone. It’s too much for just one person. You need that support, that link that will help you get through the daily fight. You and I…we will always be connected, Dylan. But you need a soul mate.
Dylan nodded. She’d been prepared for his answer and had known this was how it would be. That didn’t stop her from being disappointed and hurt.
“Who?” She looked at Wyatt, afraid of what he would say, but needing to hear it anyway.
When Dylan touched the orb, she discovered that her connection to Stiles didn’t necessarily require her to pick him as her soul mate. Until the moment she was connected to her soul mate, the choice was hers. She could choose Stiles. Or she could choose Raphael or one of his many soldiers. She could choose a random angel she’d never actually met, or she could choose one who’d been banished to heaven for several millennia for fighting on Luc’s side in the war. As long as it was an angel, she could choose anyone. Powers didn’t matter. Raphael was working under the impression that it had to be an archangel—and, normally, it probably should be—but she was different. Her powers would allow for any angel to survive a connection to her.
So she had a choice to make.
That choice is up to you, Wyatt said. But choose well, my love. Because this connection cannot be broken once it’s forged.
Dylan woke suddenly in her bed in Rachel’s house.
“She’s back.”
“Thank God!”
Rachel leaned over her, concern in her wide eyes.
“What are you doing?” Dylan asked, brushing her aside as she sat up. A wave of dizziness hit as she did, making her stomach roll unpleasantly. She immediately sat back down, tears stinging her eyes.
“We found you passed out on the street,” Rachel said. “Raphael said you weren’t…that you weren’t in your body?”
Raphael moved into Dylan’s line of sight, a worried frown on his handsome face. “You were injured, a brain injury that seemed to have been inflicted from some strong power. I healed you, but you didn’t wake right away. That’s when I realized your soul was elsewhere.”
“I was with Wyatt.”
Rachel’s eyes softened. “Oh, Dylan,” she said softly. “Are you okay?”
Dylan sat up, a little slower this time. “Stiles?”
“He’s still at the dance. We didn’t want to bother him,” Rachel said quite quickly.
Dylan, of course, knew why they didn’t want to bother him. The last time she saw him, he was dancing with Carrie or Caryn or whatever her name is. It wasn’t as if Stiles took much time to relax.
“What happened?” Raphael asked.
“It was that demon, Jack James. He believes if he can possess me, like his demons do all those people, that he can control the orb.”
“He tried again?”
Raphael looked sharply at Rachel. “What do you mean, again?”
“He did it at Joanna’s house,” Dylan said. “But I was able to shake him off.”
“And tonight?”
“I showed him memories of Rebecca. It disoriented him enough to make him back off.”
“You showed him memories?” Rachel asked.
“Yeah. He was trying to attach himself to my soul. I could see his thoughts, his memories, and he could see mine. So I showed him my memories of Rebecca to try to get him to see that everything worked out the way he’d wanted it to when he was alive. But, like before, it didn’t help.”
“You just made him angry, I’m guessing,” Raphael said.
Dylan nodded. “He’s a tough one. It’s going to take more than a little one-on-one counseling to get him to let go of his darkness.”
“Until we can, this war will continue to wage,” Rachel said.
It was an understatement. Figuring out how to stop Jack James was the key to everything. But Dylan was no closer to figuring it out now than she had been a year ago when she first confronted these demons with Stiles.
There was high pitched, female laughter in the hallway. Rachel went to the door and peeked.
“It’s Stiles. Do you want me to get him?”
Dylan shook her head. He wasn’t hiding his thoughts from her. She knew he wasn’t alone and she knew he wasn’t planning on being alone for the rest of the night. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit that the idea of him taking a human lover didn’t hurt. But it didn’t surprise her. She’d made him wait much longer than she ever should have. Was it any surprise that he was ready to move on without her?
“Let him have some fun for once.”
Rachel looked at her, her emotions written all over her face. She thought it was a mistake. Raphael thought they should be focusing on the fact that Dylan was attacked so close to the place she called home for the moment.
If he had succeeded…
But he didn’t.
Raphael inclined his head slightly. “You are not to be alone any longer,” he said. “I will have one of my soldiers posted outside this door immediately.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“It is,” Rachel said. “You are the future, Dylan. We would be lost if something happened to you.”
Dylan, reluctantly, nodded.
Chapter 10
“This is your room?”
Caryn walked around a little, running her fingers over the spines of the few books he’d taken from Rachel’s library and had yet to return. Then she turned and looked at the bed, a soft, knowing smile raising the color in his cheeks.
“Not very impressive, I suppose,” Stiles said.
“No. It’s pretty cool.”
“Yeah?” Stiles walked over to her, resting his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t have a lot, but I don’t really have anything like a permanent home right now, either.”
“My mom always says a person doesn’t need much more than the clothes on their back and a soft place to lay their head at the end of the day.”
“Your mom is pretty smart.”
Caryn turned into Stiles, everything naive and innocent about her suddenly wiped from her pretty features. She studied his face, raising a hand to stroke the curve of his jaw.
“I’d rather not talk about my mom right now,” she said softly.
She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed the center of his jaw. Stiles didn’t need any further invitation. He stole her lips, making them his own with a determination that came from too many years of solitude. His human body had needs that his angel soul hadn’t allowed him to satisfy for much too long. She responded to him and he couldn’t help himself as his body also responded, his hands moving around her waist and drawing her even closer to him. Instinct…this was the basis of that human need to seek out a mate and keep the species going.
This was a part of the process Stiles was familiar with. He’d lain with women before—a few more than Rebecca ever cared to talk about. And Rebecca…she’d been a satisfying lover for as long as her body could accommodate the process. But he hadn’t been with a woman since long before Rebecca’s death. It felt…different. Holding Caryn was nice. He liked the way she felt in his arms. He liked the softness of her feminine body, liked the way she smelled and he loved the way her hands seemed to know how much he liked to be touched along the small of his back.
But.
There was always a but. And this but was all about needing something more than a one-night stand. He was sure Caryn wouldn’t mind seeing him again after this, but he wasn’t sure that was something he wanted. She was nice and everything, but she wasn’t Rebecca. And she would never be Dylan.
Stiles let his lips linger against hers for a moment longer, and then he touched her temple with two fingers. Instantly, Caryn disappeared. He’d sent her home, put her to bed, and wiped from her mind the memory of returning to Rachel’s with him. Instead, he replaced her last memories of their night together with a chaste goodnight kiss on her front porch and the impression that it had been fun, but not enough to seek out a second date.
It wasn’t fair to lead someone like Caryn on. She was too kind—too innocent.
Stiles sank down on his bed with a heavy sigh. No matter how logical his head wanted to be, this human body wanted to bring Caryn back and finish what she’d started. He stood and began to pace. Stupid damn morals, stupid damn attachments. There was once a time when these things were easy, when he could do whatever he wanted to do without concern for what would happen the next day or the day after that. Why couldn’t he go back there?
Why couldn’t he stop thinking about Dylan and the pain he constantly felt radiating from her soul?
Stiles went to the jail where Wilhelm kept the dark souls they’ve managed to capture in this war. Wilhelm wasn’t there—he was at the dance with Donna—but two of his assistants, other gargoyles, were there.
“Anything new?” he asked as he walked into the narrow room.
“Not really,” one of the gargoyles told him. “We’ve been watching this one in the corner. He seems ready to move on.”
Stiles walked to the end of the room and stopped in front of the door to the last cell.
“Is that true?” he asked. “Are you ready to let go of the darkness and be received into heaven?”
The soul’s darkness swirled in its smoky presence. There was a modified version of the lassos Dylan had designed to capture these things wrapped around what might have been its neck if it had been in human form. The darkness of its body seemed to undulate, moving and rotating almost constantly, through the restraint. As Stiles spoke, those movements seemed to increase, running in much quicker waves.
Pain.
Stiles slid through the bars in his ethereal form, one of the gargoyles began to protest, while the other urged him to be quiet. “He’s an angel,” Stiles heard behind him. He approached the dark soul and touched it gingerly, almost as if he were afraid of being burned by it. The place where they touched turned a soft gray color, as though the simple act of reaching out had helped the soul rid itself of some darkness.
“What is his plan?” he asked the soul. “Why is he doing this?”
Anger. Pain.
“Where does it come from, this anger and pain?”
She.
Stiles studied the soul for a long moment. “She? Do you mean Joanna?”
The soul didn’t answer. It didn’t know.
“What did she tell him? We know about the orb. But what else? There must be more.”
Again, the soul didn’t answer. But when Stiles touched it again, images exploded in his mind.
Wyatt lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight. “Someone’s down there,” he said.
Stiles moved up behind Dylan. “How do you know?” he asked Wyatt.
“I saw a flash of something. Metal, I think.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t just a reflection off of one of the rides?”
Wyatt didn’t respond. He just kept watching. After a second he pointed with his other hand, the one not pressed to his forehead. “There,” he said. “A little flash, like someone moving around.”
; “I saw it,” Stiles said.
Dylan hadn’t, but it didn’t matter. She had already known someone would be there waiting for them.
Stiles gripped Dylan’s arms and turned her around. “You need to go back.”
“No,” she said, pulling away from his touch. “I can’t keep running.”
“You don’t know what might be down there.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Dylan,” Stiles began, reaching to touch her again. But then he was jerked backward, as though hit by a powerful force. Dylan cried out as he fell to the ground, his body stiff as though his nerves had all misfired at the same time.
“That guy is so irritating,” Ellie said.
“What are you doing?” Wyatt asked, his voice surprisingly calm as he slowly stepped in front of Dylan and confronted his former admirer with his hands held at chest level in response to the weapon in her hand. “Stiles wasn’t bothering you.”
“He wanted to keep her from going to the park. I couldn’t allow that.”
“Why? Who are you working with?”
Ellie simply smiled. “You two were so easy, you know? I didn’t even have to beg to get you to take us along with you. You just fell for that wild pig attack like you saved damsels in distress every single day. Davida sure had you pegged.”
“Davida?” Dylan asked. “What about her?”
Ellie just shook her head. “You are so blind, Dylan. Did you really think they would put a bunch of experiments into the dorms without someone there to watch over them? Lily’s not nearly that stupid.”
“What does Lily have to do with this?” Wyatt asked.
Ellie didn’t answer. She gestured with her weapon, the same sort of short, wide weapon the Redcoats had when they’d come searching for Dylan at the resistance camp. “Let’s go,” she barked.
“What about Sam?” Dylan asked.
Ellie glanced over her shoulder. Sam was unconscious on the ground behind her. Dylan couldn’t tell if he had been hit with another of the projectiles from her gun. She didn’t think so. His body was not stiff like Stiles’, or like Bobby’s had been days ago. And he was clearly unconscious. Stiles, on the other hand, was staring up at Dylan and his voice, distant and garbled, was trying to communicate with her. She didn’t know what he was saying, but she had a pretty good guess.
SOUL MATES (Angels and Demons Book 3) Page 6