by JK Ensley
The shocked Guardian took a moment to find his voice. “I dunnae think I can stay, Princess. I cannae leave my summonses unattended for much longer. I’ve been here since the morn.”
He watched the hope drain from her strange black eyes, a dull shadow replacing it.
“Very well, then.” She half smiled. “Somewhere inside me, I knew you would say that.”
“Aye, my love. I’m but a heartbeat away. If ye need me—”
“Never mind.” She cut him off. “There are two here on Jinn with the same lying promise on their lips,” she said sardonically. “Gratitude. But I don’t really require any additional empty gestures of noble intentions. I’m all full up.”
He moved to sit on the edge of her bed, still holding fast her tiny hand. “Nae, Princess. I’ve nae spoken an empty word tae ye, ever. If ye need me tae stay, I will. Naethin’ means more tae me than ye.”
“No, don’t worry about it. I assume you have an important job to do. Go. See to it, then. I’m fine.”
“Ahh, my wee lamb.” He lovingly stroked her curls. “Are ye lonely here, all by yerself?”
“No. It’s not that, not wholly. I love Jinn. It’s just…” She paused and drew in a trembling breath. “When I close my eyes,” she whispered, “…a terrifying darkness grows inside me. I feel its ravenous desire to consume me. When I’m alone… in the dark… I’m so scared.”
Vittorio scooped her up in his arms, pressing her close to his heart, bitter tears dripped down to soak her silver curls.
“Please, mine Angel. Come back tae Vanahirdem with me,” he whispered. “I’ll keep ye safe there. I’ll chase the darkness away an’ nae leave yer side.”
“Gratitude. But, no. I don’t recall exactly why. But I think I hate that place.”
“Very well, Milady. I’ll stay here with ye, then.” He placed a tender kiss atop her head.
“No. No, you won’t.” She slid off his lap and sat facing him. “I do not wish it. Not any longer.”
Vittorio flinched from her abrupt answer. “But… why, Milady?”
“The way you looked at me a moment ago.”
“What?” He took her hand again. “Nae, Princess.”
She jerked free and looked him straight in the eye. “The look on your face, just a little while ago… it made me feel bad. Made me feel… dirty, somehow. No. I no longer wish for your company. I never want to see anyone look at me like that, ever again.”
She watched, unmoved, as his giant tears returned, spilling down his sculpted cheeks.
“Nae, Lass. Dunnae say that. I’ve nae looked upon ye with anything but love. Dunnae turn me away. Nae like this. Ye need help, Princess. Making ye smile is what I live for.”
“I do not need additional help, Guardian. And I especially don’t need your help.” Her heart grew colder with every word that dripped from her stoic lips. “If the time comes when I do, I will seek it from my true friends. The ones who don’t judge me, don’t look down on me. The ones who aren’t so disgusted with me that they can’t even speak.” She snorted out a dry laugh. “Seems I’m no longer holy enough for you and your kind. I walk a darker path now, I suppose. Because the ones I now count as friends, they aren’t quite as sparkly and heavenly as are you… or Munenori. Or Nilakanta, for that matter. You all promise help and comfort, yet when I ask for it, you prove the lie in your empty words.”
Vittorio reached for her again. “What’s happened all of a sudden, Lass? Tell me. What kindles such rage?”
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped. “If I need comfort, I will call out for Vybius. Seems my true friends boast ebony pinions, not white ones. You are too glorious a creature for me, Guardian. Do not sully yourself here. Take your leave.”
“Please, Lass. Call anyone but him,” Vittorio pleaded. “If ye love me nae more, call another. Nae call Vybius. Please… call anyone but him. Promise me.”
“Absolutely not,” she said. “Not once did Vybius look at me as you did. Not once did he scold me or make me feel bad, as did the Angel and the Dragon. Leave my realm, Guardian. Go back to your holy family. I need you not.” Her eyes narrowed and she slid off the bed. “Nos da, Brother.” She spun on her heel and stormed into the bath, slamming the door.
Vittorio sat there, stunned, trying to figure out what had just happened. For a long while, he didn’t even draw breath. Slowly, he made his way to the balcony and then on to the clouds.
When she was certain the Guardian was gone, Jenevier left her chambers and slipped into Yui’s room. The young Shinobi didn’t move when she crawled into his bed. But when she curled up against him, he wrapped his arms around her and held her together. When her tears would no longer come and her shoulders no longer trembled with her sobs, she fell peacefully asleep… cradled in the loving warmth of her devoted Hand.
Yui had listened to what transpired between his Empress and her beloved Guardian. His valiant heart was heavy with grief and worry. Looking at her now, snuggled up against his chest, he was painfully reminded of the way she had been after Musashi had abused her. He’d held her trembling form many nights back then. Somehow, she seemed even smaller now.
“You are broken again, Milady,” he whispered into her curls. “You need magic.” He stared at her snowy features in the gentle moonlight. “I don’t know what to do, Empress. I know not who to turn to… not this time. If your Senpai, your bonded Dragon, and your dearest friend in the universe… if they’re the ones shattering you… who shall I call?” He kissed her forehead. “I’m scared,” he whispered. “If your blue Angels don’t return soon, if they tarry or hide… I fear it will be too late when next they see us.” A tear escaped the corner of his eye then. “But do not worry, Kagi Naga. You will not be alone. I am here. Always am I here. If you must walk into hell itself to be healed, then I will gladly accompany you there. One thing’s for certain… you’ll go nowhere alone, never again.”
*****
And in the distance, sat her ever-present watcher.
“Why is a Death Angel so weak of heart?”
He whispered his complaint upon the wind. But strangely enough, his mind was upon worry, not anger. And that simply wasn’t like him, not at all. His eyes narrowed with the realization, but stayed firmly fixed upon her, as they had for so long now.
It seemed he always had more questions than answers when it came to this curious woman—lying still in the night, pale as death and rare as a lily.
“Never have I wanted to slap a creature… as badly as I wanted to comfort them at the same time.”
And still, he watched.
Chapter 30
Jophiel
(joh-fye-EEL)
“Naga. Kagi Naga. Open your eyes, little one. Naga, wake up. We need to talk.”
Her sleeping face twisted into an irritated grimace. She rolled over the other way, gripping the covers tight around her.
“Naga. You have work to do. Rise and follow me.”
She didn’t respond until a large hand slapped her bottom. The thick covers made it feel as nothing, but it was enough to pull her from her dreams completely.
Jenevier opened only one eye and beheld her unwanted guest. “Bore da, Uriel. Now, go away.” She yawned and closed her eye.
“Bore da?” He chuckled. “So you now claim the language of Vikings, do you? How can I not be fascinated with you? You’re such a strange little creature.”
“Please, cease your tongue and let me sleep, Angel. I will come to you, straight away, when I wake. Or feel free to stay. Either way, I need more rest.”
“I am an Angel of the Almighty God.” His voice was suddenly like thunder. “I am not yours to beckon or to send.”
She didn’t react to his terrifying outburst. Jenevier remained as she was, eyes closed, curled on her side.
“And, being an Angel,” she said through a yawn. “You can surely understand how insignificant two little hours can be… compared to eternity. How much harm can come to the universe by you being a more courteous brother?”
<
br /> Fire raged in Uriel’s eyes. But Jenevier didn’t see it, hers remained closed.
“My, my, my. What an impudent little creature she is.” The unknown voice was as sweet as a songbird’s.
She cautiously raised her weary lids then, and beheld the stranger stretched out, lying on the bed beside her. His large golden eyes only inches from hers.
“Tell me again, Uriel. What is it you find so interesting, so entertaining about this one? You talk about her all the time. Now show me the proof of your odd fascination. What’s so special about her?”
Uriel snorted. “Presently, I am minus the recollection.” His words were dry and sharp.
She sat up quickly, wild eyed, heart racing, just as Yui entered with her morning tea. At the sight of his lovely purple gaze, she relaxed.
He looked warily from one man to the other. The only betraying sign of his unease was the tiny rattling of teacups on the metal tray.
“Empress.”
Jenevier followed his mortified gaze down to where her covers had fallen away, revealing her bare chest.
“Gratitude for your concern, Master Yui,” she said, tossing back the remaining covers as she hopped up and pulled one of his shirts from its hanger. “Alas, dear friend, I am not a body. I’m simply forced to reside within one.”
Cold hands seized her from behind, freezing her mid-movement.
Look at this, Brother. See his mark?
She heard them within her head, same as if they had spoken aloud. She felt the icy fingertip slide painfully down her spine. Then it was over. The whole scene played out in less than a heartbeat. Yui hadn’t even noticed the man had moved. She purposefully looked back over her shoulder only to find the stranger as he had been, casually stretched out beside where she’d slept, watching her intently. Her eyes narrowed when he opened his mouth to speak.
“Well, well, fair sister. That’s the wisest thing I’ve heard this fine morn. And very true, at that—forced to reside within your vessel.” The stranger smirked as he glared at her. “But at least yours is a rare vessel indeed.”
“Besides…” She ignored his comments as she made sharp, quick movements, rolling up the way-too-long sleeves. “I do not believe our fine, albeit uninvited, guests here can even see what’s on the outside.”
“Oh, we can see it just fine,” the stranger said. “Did I not comment on your delicious rarity, only just? Alas, Naga, your gracious humility in our presence is truly an admirable thing.” He laughed at her icy glare. “Gratitude for your demure modesty, Milady.”
“Kagi Naga.” Uriel’s words halted the coming quarrel. “I would like for you to meet my honored brother, Jophiel.” He inclined his head toward the man casually lying there upon Yui’s bed.
The silvery snowflakes in her black eyes flashed brightly. Everyone noticed. She heard their collective gasps.
She smiled coldly. “Ahh, yes, Jophiel. Long time no see, Brother.” The deep voice coming from her throat was not her own, it echoed with a chilly demonic influence. “So, Jophiel… how’s your flaming sword, Arch boy? Still chasing pathetic little humans out of magical gardens with it?”
Both men’s golden eyes narrowed, their nonchalant guise quickly falling away. They appeared feral, poised for battle.
Jenevier looked at Yui, keeping her wide gaze fixed with his. She went to him, taking his trembling hands in hers.
“Gratitude for the tea, Master Yui.”
She then plopped down in a chair with a sigh, and graciously accepted the cup he had somehow managed to fill despite the condition his nerves were currently in.
“You are a godsend, old friend.” She took a long sip and smiled. “Have I ever told you, good Hand, just how much I hate Angels?”
“Do you include yourself in those most horrible of words?” Uriel hissed.
“Especially myself,” she mumbled, before taking another sip. “Would you fine gentlemen care to join me for some delicious tea? I will feel a failure as host if you deny me your noble company. You must try some. Yui is an absolute wizard when it comes to blending the roses perfectly.”
“Ahh, sarcasm…” Jophiel smiled wickedly. “…one of my absolute favorite things. Let’s forget the tea for now, little Naga. I wish to remain upon the subject of flaming swords. Shall we? Speaking of which, where’s yours?”
She looked into his haunting golden eyes, not truly seeing them. “…I know not.” Her voice was a forlorn whisper.
Jenevier tried desperately to search her spotty memory for a tiny trace. Munenori. She had barely formed the name in her mind when she heard his wings approaching, and then suddenly halting just before he entered.
The Guardian Angel of Jinn glanced briefly at the two men before bowing to her in his usual manner. She returned in-kind.
“Good morning, blessed sister.”
“Bore da, fair brother,” she answered.
“You called for me?”
She realized then, he hadn’t felt the presence of her guests until he had already reached the palace. This troubled her.
“You are too good to me, Brother. My thoughts had only just strayed to your lovely face when I heard you at my door.”
“As I said…” He approached her. “…I am but a thought away.” He took her tiny hand, lightly kissing her milky flesh.
“Apologies.” She squeezed his hand in return, her wide gaze desperately trying to convey caution. “Where are my manners? Munenori…” She gestured toward the other men. “I believe you know Uriel. And this lovely creature here…” She flicked her finger toward the second Angel. “…is Jophiel.”
“He is not as young as are you, Naga,” Jophiel said with a smirk. “Just as foolish, perhaps… but not… so… young.” He took his first sip of tea. “We know each other quite well. We go way back. Isn’t that right, Munenori?” He turned then to her mossy lavender friend. “I see you have been rather busy in your training of our lovely young sister. How goes it, Brother?”
Munenori did not turn toward the taunting Angel, yet kept his gaze fixed with hers. “She can be a bit of a handful… at times.” He gave her a reassuring wink.
She relaxed, slightly.
“Truly?” Uriel quipped. “I should say you have recently had both hands full.”
“Naga, no!” Munenori yelled.
His words came too late. She was already straddling the smirking Angel, her diamond claws around his throat.
“Uriel, Brother. Do you presume to sit in judgment of me?” Her words were a dark hiss, warm upon his cheek.
“I do so presume,” he answered, unfazed.
“Then judge me and sentence me with the same breath. Spare me your self-righteous commentary.”
“Do you have any idea exactly who I am, little one?” He half chuckled. “Realize you not… I could turn you to ash with but a word?”
Jenevier retracted her claws and stood up. “Realize you not, I don’t give a damn? I welcome it, Brother. Do it now and spare me your vile company.”
Strong arms embraced her, turning her, Munenori buried her face against his stone-like chest. “Do not harm her, please. Spare her, Brothers. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. Naga isn’t herself.”
“Munenori, tell me. What was your plan, Brother?” Jophiel’s lovely voice carried his usual smirking tone. “Were you thinking of sparing her hide, her obviously deserved punishment, by taking it upon yourself? Are you truly willing to go that far?”
“She has done nothing worthy of punishment,” Munenori said through clenched teeth. “The sin is mine.”
“I must admit this is a shock,” Uriel said. “See why I find our little sister so intriguing, Brother? You never can tell what will happen next around her.”
“Yes, Brother… very interesting,” Jophiel answered. “Munenori, if you’re willing to sacrifice your existence for this creature, then take her. She is free to be claimed. Bind her to you.”
“I tried,” he whispered. “She refused me.” He lightly kissed the top of her head bef
ore he released her.
“Surely you jest.” Jophiel laughed. “Does she not realize who you are, Strengthener of Races? Who is she holding out for? Gabriel? Raphael? Or perhaps her eyes are set upon Michael’s rare glory.”
“Perhaps she wants you, Brother.” Uriel joined Jophiel’s continued laughter.
“Hmm…” Jophiel eyed her teasingly. “I hadn’t intended on taking a mate. Yet, I’ve never seen one quite like her before—absent all color, filled with a dark fire. She is a true, lethal beauty, she is.”
Jenevier was trembling, shaking with a burning rage. “Do I not hold value unless I am bound? Do I only gain worth once tied to another? Why am I not free to love as I chose, minus your restraints? I… need… no one,” she hissed.
“Ahh, and there it is, Brothers.” Jophiel smiled brightly. “Now we have all borne witness as to why our darkest of brothers stood not a chance with this one.” He chuckled. “There stands his equal in the making, if ever I’ve seen one. Listen closely, tiny Angel.” He leaned in toward her. “Remember this well… pride goeth before the fall.”
“If only I could be so blessed as to be present when you trip up and choke on your own words, cherished brother,” she spat.
“Perhaps you will be at that, ghostly Princess,” Jophiel said with a smile. “I believe I can feel your resolve weakening. Are you reconsidering the offer of my manacle?” He cautiously touched one of her curls. “Thou doth protest too much, fair maiden. I’m pretty good at reading people. And… I think you like me.”
Uriel muffled his laughter.
Jenevier’s shoulders slumped forward and she released a heavy sigh. “As you wish, Brother. Taunt away. I will no longer be your plaything. Say what you will, and then go. I refuse to let you have control over me or my emotions.”
Jophiel’s eyes widened, ever so slightly. Munenori hugged her to him, trying to hide his smile in her hair.