“Board the train, Evie,” Reed instructs me gently, pulling knives from the notches designed into the thigh area of his body armor.
“Umm…Okay,” I mutter, pushing myself off the white-tiled wall and moving in a crooked line across the platform to the entrance of an open subway car. The car is nearly empty, except for a handful of rowdy twenty-somethings that look like they are on their way home from the pub. I can hardly understand what they are saying because of their heavy, British accents.
I hold on to the metal handrail near the open door as I turn to look at Reed. One Inikwi is already dead, lying in a pool of silver liquid that has the consistency of maple syrup. Laughter and jeering comments drift to me from the other end of the car. The entry-level, corporately-attired humans have no idea what is really happening here. Before the doors of the subway car close, Reed is by my side, pulling me against him and backing away from the doors as they shut. Fog clouds the glass panel of the train door as an Inikwi presses his face to it. He is wearing a filthy, navy blue suit jacket with a moldy red tie over a dingy white shirt. His skin is deathly pale and black mold crusts around his hairline. His dark hair is matted and clumped. Did the Inikwi dig up that body? I wonder. As I gaze beyond the snarling monster on the platform, I see that there are now three, inert Inikwi bodies on the ground, dead.
The train moves away from the station, slowly gaining speed. My eyes follow the one remaining Inikwi as he keeps pace with our train car. Aching fear squeezes my chest as he weaves between columns along the underground platform and analyzes the attributes of our car. The humanoid body of the Inikwi drops down on all fours when the train gains momentum, then he leaps to the roof of the car behind ours.
Shivering, I glance at Reed, seeing the blank expression on his face. “Remind me to explain to Buns and Brownie exactly what I mean when I say, ‘leave the portal open in a safe place,’” he murmurs in a rueful tone, before gazing around at the contents of the train, gauging its defensibility.
“OY, ANGELS! Where’s the bloody costume party?” one drunken human calls from the other end of the car. He looks like he started drinking during happy hour and had to stop when they closed the place. His comment elicits laughter from his buddies who begin to discuss us from their seats.
“Reapers,” Reed mutters under his breath. “I’ll be right back, love,” Reed says in a concerned tone, looking towards the back of the train. Through the glass panel at the back of our car, the Inikwi climbs through the window of the car attached to this one. “Sit here,” Reed says, gently pushing me into a seat that faces the exit on the side of the train where we entered. “Oh,” Reed says as an after-thought, “Buns said to give you this after you came through the portal.
He hands me an envelope from inside his armor before he turns and strides towards the car attached to ours. I open the envelope and a pack of breath strips tumbles out of it. In a daze, I pop a couple of the minty strips into my mouth and sit numbly in the seat, trying to shake the sense of unreality that I’m experiencing. I have been living in Faerie-land for months now where everything is Gancanagh, fallen angels, magic, and terrifying creatures. I am the queen of the wild things. But, in an instant, I have been thrown back into the “real world,” only to find that this now feels like a fantasyland—unreal.
As I peer into the next car, I see Reed lift the Inikwi off his feet and hurl him into a row of plastic seats. I shift my gaze the other way and listen to the humans continue to discuss me, never noticing the Inikwi in the car next to ours getting his head beaten in. Will I always be caught in the middle between two worlds? I wonder in a detached way.
When the train pulls away from the next station, Reed walks in front of me. Crouching down, he gently touches my face, assessing the cuts on my head. His hands slip over my body next, checking for broken bones and contusions. When his hands move over my gunshot wounds, I flinch, sucking in my breath sharply.
Reed’s eyes narrow. “You’ve been shot,” he states as his jaw clenches tight, making him look lethal.
I nod. “You already avenged me,” I whisper, seeing the fury in his eyes. “Casimir…” I trail off as flashes of his dismemberment at Reed’s hands flicker in my mind.
Reed rises up from his crouched position and walks towards the humans in our car. Using his voice that has the power of persuasion, he instructs them to exit the train at the next station. He also tells them to forget everything they saw on this train. He walks back to me and begins to take his body armor off, exposing his beautiful, bare chest beneath it.
When the train pulls into another underground station, everyone exits the car, leaving us alone. Reed moves to the doors, pulling the wiring so that the doors malfunction and won’t open again automatically. He pulls a couple of handrails off the wall and uses them to lock the doors at either end of the car. Then he strips the rest of his armor off so he is left in just his tracksuit bottoms. He kneels down in front of me, tearing the bottom of my pant legs up and exposing the healing gunshot wounds in my thighs. Ripping the fabric lining out of his body armor, Reed makes strips, wrapping them securely around each thigh. When he finishes, he hangs his head, looking down at the floor.
“I’m sorry. Please forgive me,” Reed says in a voice filled with contrition, letting his forehead rest lightly on my knees.
“What?” I ask, while tears I have been trying really hard to hold back, fall from my eyes. The tips of his fingers gently smooth over his soft hair, just as my heart contracts painfully in my chest.
“I swore to you that I would protect you,” Reed says with bitterness. He lifts his head and looks at my face with torment in his beautiful green eyes.
“You did. Casimir didn’t drag me down into the abyss because you were there. You did everything right—everything, and I’m so grateful that you still want to fight for me after what I did,” I whisper, crying now.
“Evie, you are my aspire…my only love. Don’t you understand? It’s just you,” Reed says solemnly, reaching out and holding my cheek, while wiping my tears with his thumb. “I am no longer whole without you.” His other hand goes to the mark of my wings branded on his chest above his heart. “I will never love anyone but you,” Reed promises with the certainty of billions of years.
“I love you…I’m sorry…” I can’t continue because my throat burns with emotion.
“Evie,” he whispers, seeing my anguish and regret for what he has gone through to be with me. Rising from his knees, Reed reaches down and picks me up off the seat before sitting down in it and placing me in his lap. He holds me to his chest, stroking my wings hypnotically as he speaks to me in Angel. The dark tunnels of the subway flicker by, illuminated by florescent lighting where advertisers have placed their latest ads.
Listening to Reed’s voice, I calm down as the sway of the train lulls me in a different way. “What did you say?” I ask him, feeling better.
“I was thanking God for giving you back to me,” he replies, tightening his grip on me.
Laying my cheek against Reed’s heart, I decide that being near him is an assault on my senses. His voice is like hearing the first incredible notes of my favorite song; the way it excites my mind while my body yearns to move closer to the source of its soft timbre. The solid muscle of his chest beneath my fingers has my face flushing with heat. “Breathe,” Reed whispers near my ear, his warm breath sending shivers through my body as he does things to me with one word that no one else can do.
Inhaling shallowly, I raise my head from his chest and see desire in his eyes. His cheek tilts softly towards mine, brushing the plane of my face with the sensual scruff of his male skin. I exhale at the caress while my fingers curl involuntarily against his chest, wanting to hold onto him as tight as I can. My cheek moves against his again until I turn my lips slowly to his skin. Kissing him softly, I close my eyes. Tentatively, Reed turns his face to cover my lips with his own as if afraid that I’m not real. His arms pull me closer to him, like he would keep me here even if I object. But there is
no chance that I will object.
I slip my hands up to wrap around the back of his neck and press my body closer to his while deepening our kiss. Reed groans softly. In an instant, my wings unfold, arching out boldly around me with a loud snap.
“Evie,” Reed groans my name, kissing me feverishly while his lips turn up in the corners, “that’s…” he trails off, not completing the thought as his hand reaches back to touch my wing.
“What?” I breathe against his mouth, feeling wildness inside of me growing with each caress from Reed.
“So incredibly hot,” he breathes, stroking my wing gently.
“I missed you…” I whisper against his ear. His arms tighten around me painfully. “Ah…” I breathe, and he eases up immediately. Reed reaches for the seat next to us and tears it from the bolts with his bare hand.
“I burned for you,” he says in a soft tone, nuzzling my neck.
The train begins to slow down when we enter the next underground station. I continue to kiss Reed until I hear the doors of our car being pried open and a soft, musical voice say, “Uh, sweetie, this is your stop, but we can meet you at the next one if this is a bad time.”
CHAPTER 24
The Island
“Is she okay?” Buns directs her question to Reed as he stands up with me in his arms and walks to the doors of the subway car. We exit onto an underground platform where Brownie and Buns stand together looking concerned. “Sweetie, are you hurt?” Buns asks me. She rests her hand gently on my arm, her eyes clouding when I nod my head to her question.
“She has been shot, among other things,” Reed says in a low tone, holding me closer to his body.
“She’s not ‘coma girl!’” Buns says, looking surprised and confused.
“No, she was released from the contract,” Reed says, rubbing my wing soothingly.
When my eyes move to Brownie next to Buns, I see her eyes filling up with tears, too. “Thank you, Evie,” Brownie says with a tight voice, referring to the deal I made with Brennus to save her from Valentine.
I nod again, not being able to speak about any of that right now. Brownie moves to me, hugging me while I remain in Reed’s arms. She smells incredible, like cocoa butter, and both the girls have exotic, hothouse flowers tucked behind their ears. In fact, they are not dressed for the London Underground Transit system in early November. They are hardly dressed at all. Buns is wearing a bold, flower-print, string bikini top with matching sarong skirt and Brownie has on a soft-yellow bikini top with matching sarong skirt and sandals.
“Here,” Buns says, touching Reed’s arm lightly to move him forward, “we need to leave now. They should have all their surveillance cameras running again soon and we don’t want to freak out the humans.”
Brownie pulls back from me, wiping her hand against her tears and asking, “Did you have any trouble with the portal?”
“The London Tube, Brownie?” Reed asks skeptically, looking around the platform of the subway station, assessing their choice of destinations critically. “What to you denotes ‘safety’ here?”
“No Fallen?” Brownie asks, like it has to be a trick question. “Buns and I thought it was brilliant because no angels seem to use it. It’s not very ‘playa’ squeezing into a train with humans when we can fly faster than the trains. Plus, you don’t know how hard it was to shake the Dominion Powers following us,” Brownie continues. “We had to go lingerie shopping with some other Reaper friends to distract them. Our friends modeled the new holiday line by the storefront window while we slipped out the back.”
“And that worked?” Reed asks, like he is having a hard time believing it.
“Let’s just say that some of those Powers like it more naughty than nice,” Brownie replies.
Buns chimes in, “And, we had to create a diversion near the turnstiles above the stop where you came through so there wouldn’t be anyone on the platform when you arrived.”
“What did you do?” Reed asks with curiosity in his tone.
“Well, it was kind of like belly dancing, wouldn’t you say, Brownie?” Buns asks, looking for help from Brownie.
“More or less,” Brownie agrees with a shrug.
“Our Reaper friends are still working this terminal’s entrances, but we can’t hang here all night,” Buns continues. Buns ushers Reed forward and we move to the end of the platform. She steps ahead of us, opening the door to the woman’s bathroom and holding it for us to enter.
Confused, I wrinkle my brow. I want to get out of here and get to somewhere warm, preferably with a bed where I can crash for as long as it takes not to feel terrible. As I glance at the florescent-lighted ceiling and rows of stall doors, I say, “I’m good, Buns, we don’t have to stop here for me.” I indicate the stalls with a weak flick of my wrist.
Buns and Brownie both grin. “Sweetie, we hadn’t even thought about that. This will take us to Zee’s island,” Buns smiles, pulling out an onyx compact inlaid with mother-of-pearl so that it looks like the night sky. My stomach does a flip inside of me as I pale, remembering how it felt to go through the last portal to get here. I shift in Reed’s arms as I look around for a way out of this.
My eyebrows draw together in a concerned expression. “Uhh, that’s okay, Buns,” I say as my mouth goes dry. “I can probably walk now. We can catch a cab—or they have those red, double-decker buses here, right? I’ve never been to London. It must be pretty in the winter—magical.”
“London is too dangerous right now, love,” Reed says near my ear. “Everyone will be looking for you. We just needed a stop before heading to the island to make sure we are not followed.”
Everyone is looking for me, and if Brennus escaped, he’ll be the most determined to find me. If he survived, my mind whispers and the air suddenly becomes very thin. The Fallen could’ve gotten him after I left. I feel cold inside, thinking of the Fallen torturing a member of my family…a member of my…Confusion grips me, making me feel tired, sad, and drained. I drop my head against Reed’s chest and I can’t seem to sort it all out. A part of me is still lost in their Faerie world—still fighting for air.
How do I rescue that part of me that they still own? I wonder.
“Sweetie?” Buns says with concern.
Reed turns my chin so that he can look into my eyes. “I’m here, Evie,” Reed says, using his sexy voice. “The current is shifting—can you feel it? It’s bringing you back to me. Hold on to the thread, love. Don’t let go,” he says with sultry tone that makes me want to do anything for him.
I nod, gazing at his perfect face as Buns opens the portal.
I distort and twist into forms that no one should ever have to take as I rocket through the portal. It spews me out on the other side, feeling like I have been half digested by an enormous earthworm.
Daylight hits me like an anvil, shining so brightly on my face that I’m almost grateful for the need to turn over and vomit again. The softest, whitest sand cushions my hands and knees, and with the warm, fragrant breeze blowing, it helps to ebb my nausea.
“You get used to it, sweetie,” Buns says while Reed rubs my back as I heave.
“No, thanks,” I mutter when I can speak. “Let’s not do that again.”
I open my eyes, getting my first glimpse of Zephyr’s island. Off in the distance on a hill, there is a sweeping plantation estate, spanning a large area of the plateau. It faces the beach, overlooking the bluest water I have ever seen. Beautiful, teak bungalows built off the ground on stilts with thatched roofs are scattered along the beach, nestling among the lush palm trees. Reed scoops me up off the sand and moves supernaturally fast towards the nearest bungalow, which has a little veranda with teak furniture.
Reed traverses the wooden veranda and opens the shuttered, folding doors, so that the breeze from off the ocean sweeps in with us. He turns immediately to the left. We enter a bedroom containing a large bed covered in snowy white linens and fat pillows beneath whimsical, mosquito netting. Reed places me in the bed before moving to cl
ose the shutters on the windows, dimming the room. As I look up at the ceiling, a lazy, teak fan turns tranquilly amid the pitched roofline.
Buns enters the room with a pitcher of ice water and some soft rolls on a primitive wooden tray. She sets it on the bedside table, pouring some water into a delicate glass and holding it out to me. “Drink this. You look like you’re getting dehydrated,” she says in a soothing voice, sitting on the side of the bed and waiting for me as I push myself up on the pillows. “Do you think you can hold down some aspirin?” Buns asks, and I shake my head slowly, trying to swallow the water.
“Where are we?” I ask as Brownie sits on the foot of my bed.
“South Pacific, sort of near Tahiti,” Brownie answers, watching as Reed comes up on my other side, sitting near me and gently unwrapping the bandage on one of my thighs. I don’t look at it when he takes it off, but I see Brownie pale a little before she glances up at my face.
“It looks like its noon here,” I say, trying to think of something else while Reed starts examining my legs again. My body is still shaking from trauma, making me appear cold.
“I think it’s something like a ten hour time difference from where you were, sweetie,” Buns says, trying her best to help keep me focused on something else. “It’s protected…safe,” she adds. I keep my face blank, trying not to give away the fact that this world is too small to ever be safe for me.
I attempt to hide my sense of unreality as I ask with a smile that is not reaching my eyes, “What do you call this kind of jet lag?”
“Jump fatigue,” Reed answers. “You have surge sickness, too,” he adds gently.
“That sounds serious,” I murmur, giving him a real smile that seems to spark something in his eyes.
“It’s minor,” he says, pausing for a second and then looking down, like he forgot what he is doing.
Buns takes the glass from my hand and she and Brownie keep up a steady stream of conversation. They outline all the things that the island has to offer: sailing, snorkeling, scuba diving, surfing, hiking, horseback riding—like we are just on vacation and not hiding out from the Fallen and the Gancanagh, Werree and Ifrits, Inikwi and Kevev.
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