Intuition (The Path to Redemption Series Book 2)

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Intuition (The Path to Redemption Series Book 2) Page 23

by Kimbra Swain


  “Then make the bond stronger, so that you can tell the difference,” she said.

  “She doesn’t want the bond to be any stronger. She fears it, that much I know.”

  Ichiro said, “In my research, two people with a soul bond become more connected when they are…”

  “Go fuck her,” Ashley practically yelled for the whole plaza to hear. A young man close to us with curling blonde locks stared in astonishment at her vulgarity. He stood with an older man who looked vaguely familiar.

  “Ashley!” Ichiro said embarrassed by her outburst.

  “What?” she feigned astonishment.

  “She is blunt, but the stronger the bond, the more you will understand each other. Tadeas, for all the power and brilliance inside that woman, she has equal amounts of arrogance and weakness. Plus, she’s female.” he said. Ashley popped him on the arm, and he rubbed it. She grinned at him.

  “If you don’t want to sleep with her, enthrall her. Then you can control it. I’m willing to bet she would let you,” Ashley suggested, but I knew she didn’t mean it.

  “No, I won’t do that again. You tricked me into it, and I didn’t realize what it was,” I said.

  “Seems like you have only one choice,” she said laughing. “Have fun in Alabama.”

  My eyes pleaded with Ichiro to provide some insight.

  “Tadeas, Ashley is just as concerned about her as you are. She expresses it differently. I don’t advise either. However, man to man, if you love her, you should tell her. If you don’t, be professional and keep it that way. Don’t confuse her. Don’t give her something else to be torn over.”

  It was good advice. I needed to be truthful with myself and with her. If I didn’t know for sure, I needed to be her partner, and not the man making jokes in the elevator about her ass. If I was ready, then I needed to tell her and build from there even if she wasn’t ready. Resolved to at least apologize to her, so that we could work together, I stood to go inside. The young man with the curly blonde hair stood next to me. The smell of roses wafted around us, and I turned looking for the flowers in beds nearby. Scanning the courtyard outside the building I only saw greenery.

  “Your friend was very vocal,” he said.

  I blushed, “Yes, Ashley means well, but she pays little attention to propriety. I apologize for her if she offended you.”

  “It is not your place to apologize for her, besides I’ve heard it all,” he smiled.

  “Just the same, sorry,” I said.

  “Female troubles, eh?” he asked. I stared at him puzzled for a moment. Why would a passing guy on the street just outright ask about such a thing? Perhaps Southern hospitality was truly as it was implied. Less true hospitality, and more sticking your nose in someone else’s business.

  “Yes, but everything will work out,” I said dismissing it. He stood between me and the doorway, so I would have to walk around him if I intended to go back inside.

  “Need any advice? I’m kind of expert on relationships,” he said.

  “Um, no thanks, I’m not exactly comfortable talking to a stranger. Heck, I’m not comfortable talking about it with my friends,” I said.

  His eyes flashed a brilliant crystal blue as he smiled with white gleaming teeth. “Abigail has always struggled with coming to terms with her feelings. She makes excuses to avoid giving her heart away,” he said bluntly.

  I stared at him in confusion, but then it hit me. The man he spoke to earlier resembled the old man in the church in Paris, Gabriel. “Who are you?” I asked. He wore a light pink polo shirt and faded jeans with brown Birkenstock sandals. He looked like he stepped out of a frat house, which wasn’t exactly the kind of guy you expected to offer love advice.

  “I am Chamuel,” he said. Even though I was raised Catholic, and they do not recognize all the angels that other religions claim, I knew his name which meant “One who seeks God.”

  “How’s Gabriel?” I asked.

  As his young, hearty laugh filled the courtyard, he replied, “He is concerned about Abigail as you would expect of any parent.”

  “I’m concerned about her and the Shadow myself,” I admitted.

  “Tadeas, it’s very simple. Do you love her?” he asked.

  “It’s not that simple. One minute I want to strangle her, not that I ever would, and one minute I just want to be the piece of her heart that is missing,” I admitted, slumping back down on the bench.

  “Sounds simple. You have given yourself two choices. Which one will you make?” he asked sitting down next to me.

  There were only two choices. I could be the partner she needed and keep our relationship strictly business, which meant no more holding hands or stolen kisses. My body and heart screamed no at that choice. The other was to love her unconditionally because I knew that part was already there between us. She could see it in the magical spectrum as I felt it with every beat of her heart.

  “Love angel, huh?” I smirked at him. He seemed more light-hearted than Gabriel.

  A gleaming white smile accompanied my comment, and he said, “Relationship angel. I’m here to help you seek within yourself and admit the things you already know are there. Loving her will not be easy, but you’ve never had it easy, Tadeas. You are the strength she needs, and she is the love you’ve always wanted since you lost Isabel.”

  “I didn’t kill her,” I said.

  “That revelation took a long time to come to light, but it is true. You did not kill her,” he said.

  I sighed with the confirmation of the fact from an angel, although I had already accepted it to be true. “I only met Abigail a few weeks ago,” I pondered.

  “In my years, I’ve seen love spring up within a matter of minutes, and I’ve seen a cultivated relationship fall apart after many years. Time and love cannot be equated,” he explained.

  “Why are you interfering?” I asked knowing that angels had certain rules.

  “How have I interfered? You said you had two choices. I did not make the choice, nor did I push you in either direction,” he grinned. “I only asked if you loved her.”

  Knowing the answer, I was eager to return to her, hoping she didn’t make it difficult. She would, because she was Abigail. “Thank you, Chamuel,” I said standing to return to her.

  “Here. Take this with my blessing,” he said as a long stemmed red rose appeared in his hand.

  “Cliché much?” I asked.

  His laugh filled the courtyard once again, “All women love a rose, silly man.” I took it from him as he faded out of sight. Looking around in a panic, I realized that no one was around us, but as soon as he was gone. People rounded the corners of buildings and the street bustled again with traffic. I hadn’t even noticed that it ceased as he spoke to me.

  As I rode the elevator, I concealed the rose just within the spirit world, so I could use it if needed. Doubts still filled my mind knowing that she was angry with me, and now might not be the right time to use it. Walking back into the office, she sat on the couch in the dark. Unfortunately, the white dress was gone. She wore black fatigue pants, black shirt, and black boots.

  “Your clothes are in the bathroom,” she said.

  “Alright. I’ll change.” I went into the bathroom and changed in the dark. She patiently had waited on me to return, having faith that I would. Perhaps I was looking too deeply after the meeting. Death in any circumstance would warrant a reaction. I would probably worry if it didn't affect her at all. Walking back into the office, I sat next to her on the couch and laced up my boots. I leaned back and looked at her to gauge her temperament. When we had arguments, it took time for me to connect to her heartbeat and feelings again.

  “Your staff is in the bag on my desk. Along with some ammo for your pistols,” she said. Searching the bag, I found a belt and clipped on several magazines for my Sig. I pulled the Bo staff out that was supposed to be mine and handed it to her. Hers was in the bottom of Lake Lanier attached to a stone ogre. Taking it, she walked to the window twirling the
retracted staff around like a baton.

  “Abby, I saw Ashley on the way out,” I said. I couldn’t think of a way to start the conversation.

  “She suggested to me, before she left, that I should allow you to enthrall me again,” she said. “I will do it, if that is what it will take.”

  “Will take for what?”

  “For you to trust me,” she said.

  “Overanalyzing after the meeting, I reacted, and you picked up on it. If I pay attention to your emotions and your body language, I can read you, Abby,” I said.

  She paused and stared out into the city. She was working up to something, so I waited. “I am stubborn and foolish sometimes. Forgive me for acting that way earlier. It’s been a long time since I relied on someone as I do you, and there is no excuse for my actions. I’m sorry.”

  Honestly, I was stunned, not expecting an apology. In fact, I had braced myself for another argument. Without hesitation, I embraced her. She held back her emotions which wasn’t a denial of what she felt, but a learned reaction to keep her heart safe. “Thank you. I can’t be mad at you.”

  “When you told me about Isabel, I was so thankful that you opened up yourself to me. Together, we discovered that you did not kill her. I never believed you were capable of such a thing,” she said.

  “It was a weight lifted off of me to share it with you, and I should have trusted it with you sooner. I never imagined that I didn’t kill her,” I replied.

  “I was thinking about your story and Isabel. You are completely wrong about one thing,” she said.

  “What am I wrong about?” I kept waiting for the sarcastic remark or the deflection when dealing with a serious topic because that was how she dealt with all tense situations. We had moved into that tension territory again.

  “You said, that she was the only woman that ever truly loved you, and that’s not true,” she said and her green eyes searched mine for reciprocation. After speaking with Chamuel, I knew that I loved her, and all the questions I had about our future and our past faded away. I had decided just to tell her and see what happened, but now I wanted to be absolutely sure I understood her.

  “You love me?”

  “Is that hard to believe?”

  The last few days had been maddening. Standing face to face with her now, I knew she felt something, but I imagined she would wait for me to admit it first. It was her way of controlling things. Even now she didn’t outright say it, “Then, say it Abby, if you mean it. Don’t dodge around it.”

  She smiled and touched my face, “You are a pain in my ass, but I love you.”

  “You said we couldn’t be in a relationship,” I was going to get it all out of her no matter what. I had heard every form of protest on this matter, and I needed to be sure we were on the same page now.

  “Yes, it is against my better judgment. It puts a larger target on you because of me. I risk destroying not only our bond, but the future of the Agency by simply admitting it,” she said.

  “You love me, but it’s a bad idea?”

  “What are you doing to me? If you don’t feel the same way, then just tell me, and stop torturing me,” she said frustrated. Feeling as though I had pushed her enough, I gave into her and my own pride.

  “You torture me constantly,” I said and brushed her cheek with my lips. She shivered with the touch. Pulling on the spirit realm, I presented the rose to her and watched her anxiety fueled by the conversation melt away. After she took the rose from me, I put my hand in the small of her back, pulling her to me. “Abby, say it, with nothing before it. Say it, and it be your best judgment, because being with me is what you truly want.”

  Without hesitation she said, “I love you, Tadeas.”

  Moving toward her lips, I hesitated right before them. The tension melted to anticipation. The building wasn’t falling in on us, nor was I tricking her into a deal. I certainly wasn’t showing off for Ashley’s sake. “You have turned my world upside down, and now, I can’t imagine my life without you. Abigail, I love you.” I kissed her because I loved every beautiful and crazy bit of her. The kiss lasted just long enough for me to forget the struggle for both of us to get to this place. When I pulled my lips from hers, I felt a surge of emotions causing me to stagger. It was her emotions, and I felt them loud and clear like never before this moment.

  “What is it?”

  “You don’t feel that?”

  “Feel what?” she asked. Once again, I felt her emotions clearly, because she was afraid that maybe I had second thoughts. However, she also wanted me to kiss her again.

  “I feel your emotions. It’s overwhelming,” I stepped back from her. Releasing my hold on her, the sensation subsided back to the normal impressions of her emotions.

  “Like what?”

  I laughed. “Like you shouldn’t worry, because I have no second thoughts about us. And I want to kiss you again and again.”

  “What the hell? You can read my mind. I always knew you could,” she said grabbing my shirt. She smiled, looking bewildered at the same time.

  “I couldn’t before, but I can now,” I said pulling her to me again. When my lips met hers, the emotions flowed over me again. They were warm and seductive, and the sensations caused me to pull away again. It was strange, but amusing.

  “Well, I’m glad you are having fun with this,” she smirked.

  “You are having fun too. You can’t lie to me anymore,” I said.

  “You can’t kiss me every time you want to know something,” she said.

  “You want to kiss me all the time,” I said.

  “I do not!” she protested.

  I pulled her back to me, “Yes, you do.”

  She bit her lip.

  So, I bit it too.

  “Oh my God, you have to stop,” she said pushing me away from her. I laughed harder as the phone on her desk buzzed, interrupting my reverie.

  “Davenport,” she tried to answer with a straight face.

  “Miss Davenport, this is the front desk. A car has just been delivered for you in the parking garage, and the keys are here at the desk,” the receptionist said.

  “Thank you very much,” she giggled hitting the button to turn off the intercom.

  “Road trip!” I said.

  She just looked at me astonished, and I realized she still held the rose in her hand. The velvet red petals faintly glowed in the darkness of the room.

  Seeing me staring at it, she asked, “Where did you get this rose?”

  “Downstairs,” I replied sheepishly.

  “From a street vendor?” she asked.

  “Not exactly? Why?”

  “Because it has power. It’s not a normal rose,” she replied.

  “Oh, why do you have to know everything?” I complained. “I met a man down in the courtyard who told me all women like roses.”

  “Not a man,” she said.

  “If you know what it is, then why don’t you tell me, because to me, it looks like a rose,” I said.

  “The rose is bound to us. I can see the same strands of the binding around it as I do us,” she explained.

  “Chamuel gave it to me,” I finally admitted.

  “An angelic rose,” she gasped.

  “What does it mean?” I asked.

  “The rose will live as long as we love each other,” she replied, her face filled with wonder. “I’ve only heard about them. I didn’t think they were real.”

  “Like Beauty and the Beast?” I asked.

  “No, that was a curse. This is a blessing from heaven,” she said holding it up. I knew the look on her face as she gazed at it through the spectrum. “You met Chamuel?”

  “Yes,” I replied simply.

  “What’s he like?” she asked.

  “He looked like a frat boy complete with Birkenstocks, and more light-hearted than Gabriel,” I said.

  “Now you are getting visits from archangels. I’m a little jealous,” she smirked, lifting the rose to her nose.

  “Let’s go.
Get your wizard staff, and we can go hide out in the woods together,” I said.

  She rolled her eyes as I went to the door and waited on her to join me. “For the record, I said it first,” she smirked again. She grabbed a black leather jacket off the coat tree by the door and tossed it to me, picking another one up for herself.

  “As a matter of fact, I made you say it three times, before I said it,” I laughed as we walked through the mostly empty office.

  As the doors opened, she said with a playful look in her eye, “You want to make out in the elevator?”

  “Nah, we’ve already done that,” I teased.

  “Get in here,” she said, pulling me into her.

  Making out in the elevator was a bad idea. Now I couldn't concentrate and going to Alabama was last on my want to do list. For the record, she couldn't either. She got the key to the car from the desk, tossing it to me. A shining silver star logo proclaimed the car to be German.

  “Mercedes again?” I asked.

  “I already know how to use the navigation and features on a Mercedes. No need for a crash course on new controls,” she said.

  I hit the button on the fob, and the lights inside the car illuminated. It wasn't like her fancy AMG, but it was still nice. We got in the dark silver C-class coupe, and set our destination for Brookwood, Alabama.

  We drove for about 30 minutes. She sat in the passenger seat with the rose in her lap smiling out at the city as we passed it. Atlanta’s suburbs reached west through Douglasville toward the Alabama state line. We were not heading the direction I wanted. I wanted a nice quiet place for us to talk all of this out, but work would never let us have too many moments.

  “I wonder,” I said.

  “Wonder what?”

  “Why you don’t feel it too?” I asked.

  Hanging her head, she asked, “Remember the day Jay was in the office with me, and you came in?”

  “Ugh. Yes, I remember being yelled at for wanting my boots,” I said.

  “Oh please! Don’t you sit there and tell a porkie!”

  “What the hell is a porkie!?” I exclaimed.

  “It’s a fib,” she pouted. “Don’t poke at my English phrases.”

 

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