The sound of Gavin’s jeans unzipping felt like the whistle of a tea kettle. Things were definitely about to boil over.
I called him again. This time, more purposefully. “Gavin.” Wiggling out from under his embrace, I was able to eke out what was on my mind. He ran his hands through his hair and appeared utterly frustrated by the interruption. I watched as the hairs fell back into place like little soldiers. “Not here. I’m sorry.”
“Where, in the closet?” He took uneven breaths.
I closed my robe, then zipped his pants. “No, I just don’t think this … the timing. Can we just wait?”
“Jesus, Grace! You still don’t trust me?” His voice was elevated as he flew into the bedroom, which was completely unnecessary, as he did have feet.
I followed him even though I knew I would be crying shortly.
“Gavin, I do trust you. I just need more time. It’s different for humans.” I clenched my teeth, holding back tears.
“Which is it, Grace? Human or angel? Which is it today?” he spat back at me. I flinched as he slammed his mind shut to me, then turned the knob of the door to leave.
“Gavin, please, I love you. I love you more than my own life,” I said, without knowing I was going to say that, or that I had even felt that way.
Gavin turned to look at me, his face expressionless. “Grow up, Archangel!”
I flinched again at the harshness of his words. It was as if he’d slapped me. I crumbled to the floor, crying so deeply that my entire body hurt. Everything I’d ever heard about humans sleeping with angels nearly crushed the breath from me. It felt as if someone was squeezing my heart while pushing me into the floor with a boulder. I didn’t want to die.
Sickness settled into my stomach, and I felt as if I might vomit. Gavin did not touch or try to comfort me. Not then. Despite his lack of experience dealing with human emotions, he had to have known he was hurting me. He did watch TV.
After a few minutes, more unexpected words escaped before I could stop them or take them back. “Maybe I should just go. I can’t believe I thought coming here was a good idea.”
“You’re not going anywhere.” There was a hint of arrogance in his voice.
A bit shaky and unsteady, my attempt to stand was not nearly as graceful as I had planned. Gavin was by my side before I could wobble a second time. He placed me on the bed, where my legs dangled, listlessly.
“You need to rest.” He turned for the door.
“Please don’t leave me,” I whispered through tears and trembling lips.
“Grace, I would never leave you.” He turned back. “I was going to get you some tea.” He got down on both knees and put his head on my lap. I stroked his hair. “I’m sorry if my words hurt you. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He looked up at me with those eyes, and I could have sworn they were wet. I touched his face. “I’m just no good at this.”
“It’s hard for me too. Seeing you like this, so … human and detached. We are all connected. At least we’re supposed to be. He made us that way. You should have recognized this. You should have recognized me.” Gavin paused to let it sink in.
It was as if Gavin was resting for the first time in a long while. He seemed vulnerable then, as he wrapped his arms around my legs.
Something occurred to me that set me on edge. I gasped, then jumped, which made Gavin jump.
“Then I must know Lucifer, right? If we’re all connected, like you said.”
“What?” Gavin jumped as if I’d poked him with a nightstick. There was a lot of jumping going on.
“Lucifer. You know, first Fallen angel, likes to parade around as a snake sometimes, idiots dress up like him on Halloween carrying a pitchfork, gonna fight Michael in the great battle and try to take over The Divine One’s throne, blah, blah, blah.” I’d nearly forgotten why Gavin and I were fighting.
“Oh.” Gavin sighed, then slumped, as if Lucifer wasn’t worth jumping over. “He lives downstairs,” Gavin mumbled. He looked away and put his head back down.
“Really?” I nearly peed myself. “Lucifer lives downstairs.” It’s just not the kind of thing you expected to hear in your lifetime.
“Yes.” Gavin stood, then raked his hair with his hand. “He doesn’t like to draw attention to himself nowadays, though he does know you’re here. Thinks it’s fantastic. His exact words.”
“Really? Why?” Freaked out was an understatement. I bit my lip and straightened my hair—as if the devil cared what I looked like.
“You’ve always been one of his favorite topics.”
Sitting back on extra-large European bed shams and pulling my knees into my chest was the only defense I had against running out of the room and back to the Larsons. We were going to have to address it sooner or later. And, since running back home wasn’t an option, I started.
Gavin must have sensed my panic. “Well … ” Gavin climbed up on the bed, grabbed my arms and held them behind me before kissing me softly on the mouth. “We can’t have you running off, now can we?” He trailed soft insistent kisses along the length of my neck. “You are going to be the death of me, Archangel Grace Ann Miller,” he whispered, his breath coming faster, hot against my skin.
“Don’t you think we should talk about this, your feelings?” I tried to keep him talking, even as I became lost in his touch and the feel of his mouth on me. When I cleared my throat, he ran his tongue across it, drawing a moan from my open mouth.
“Oh. My feelings … at this very moment … ” I felt his knee against my thigh. “I feel entirely intoxicated. And this, Grace, is precisely the problem.”
Gavin released my hands and wrapped his arm around my waist. My back arched slightly. He paused to look at me, admiring his handiwork, before pulling me down beneath him, then grabbing both my arms and securing them over my head. He held them there, inhaled deeply, then lowered himself to kiss my mouth.
“Problem?” I asked when he decided breathing was necessary for my survival. I tried to free myself from his grip without offending him, but my wiggling beneath him seemed to amuse him even more.
“Grace, we can’t keep doing this. It’s torture. I have been waiting my entire life for you—all of you. And now, I finally have you, and you want to wait … for … what exactly?” It was Gavin who sat up now.
My hands were free, but somehow I didn’t feel as happy about it as I thought I would. “I’m sorry,” It was not what I had intended to say.
“I’m doing my best to be patient.” It felt as if Gavin hadn’t finished his sentiment. Unspoken words hung heavily between us.
“Do you think I like feeling like this, knowing that thousands of girls would cut off their right arm to be here right now?” The tears threatened, but I was too angry to cry. “Maybe Remi was right. That it was a mistake to come here. I’m falling in love with you, someone I hardly know, and yet, it’s hardly enough. I’m not like you. I can’t help who I am, or what I’m not. And you know what? I don’t want to change. For you, or anyone. I can’t. I barely know my own mind nowadays. I have no idea who I really am. Until I do, I just … I can’t be with you like that.” I fought my mind’s suggestion. Hearing it chilled me. I wrapped my arms around myself in an attempt to shield myself from what I was about to say.
“What? What is it, Grace?” Gavin’s voice was softer now. Maybe even remorseful.
I couldn’t say it. I just couldn’t.
Gavin knew what I was thinking. “You really think I want Emeria, that I would leave you for her, just because she’s like me?”
“Yes. No. I just think she would be better for you. She’s already … Fallen,” I whispered through silent tears and snot. I choked on my words, and worse, I made him feel bad for being what he was.
But Gavin perked up just then. “Wait! You think you’ll Fall if we have sex? That you’ll become … like me?” Gavin laughed so hard and for so long I thought he’d misheard me. “You think God wants you to save a race of angels but doesn’t want you to sleep wit
h me?” He laughed even louder.
I hated when he laughed at me. I buried my head under the pillows, but he pulled them off me. I sought refuge under his shoulder.
“You humans and your stupid rules,” he chortled. “I actually thought you didn’t want me, Grace, that you were repulsed by the thought of being with someone like me. But you’re afraid of going to hell. Priceless.” I don’t think I would be exaggerating if I said Gavin laughed for ten more minutes straight.
Happy to amuse you. I’ll be here all week.
Maybe This Angel Thing Isn’t So Bad
My days at Kheiron were filled with “Celestial Coursework” (normal people would probably just call it school). The courses began promptly at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m. But everything at Kheiron was ungodly.
My main instructor was not from here. Titan, a Virtue, is from Saturn. Yes, that Saturn. And since no Virtue has ever left Saturn, he teaches via satellite. No cerebral downloads here, just full days of real classroom instruction. No one bothered to tell me I was capable of learning an entire year of advanced math or science in a few hours. Fun, but draining.
When Titan smiled, I had to shield my eyes from the screen, it was so bright, and unfortunately, Titan pretty much smiled all the time. “Okay, Grace, let me know when you need a break. Most angels do after a morning of pharmacology, computer technology, archeology, interior design, social studies, linguistics, astrology, and religious studies,” Titan offered with an encouraging smile.
“No, I think I’m good. Maybe after lunch.” I wasn’t gonna be the first angel to take a break after only three hours of instruction. Half-human or not, I was ready to go.
“So I think we’ll spend the next two hours reviewing some of what we did yesterday: fashion, music, psychology, social media, biochemistry, avian studies, horticulture, alternate species studies, graphics and design, etiquette, and world history. Once we’re done with that, a small break, then a test in each of the six thousand five hundred spoken languages. After that, I’ll hand you over to Arcturus for more combat training. How does that sound?” Titan smiled from the screen in front of me. How did it sound? Completely nuts.
I had a lot to prove. A lot. The days were taxing, but I made it through and never complained. I was always happy when Arcturus and Caius arrived, though. It meant I got to punch something.
“Hey, Arcturus,” I greeted him when he entered the room. He bowed to me, then to Titan on the screen. The bowing was pretty annoying.
“Hey,” Arcturus was messing around with something on his wrist.
“Ahem,” Titan fake-cleared his throat. “Grace, tomorrow’s going to be fun. Tomorrow, we tackle botany, hieroglyphics, astronomy, physics, deep tissue massage, and if we have time, sign language, ecology and military studies. Enjoy your time in combat.” Titan bowed, then the screen went black.
“You ready for me?” Arcturus shadowboxed through a devious smile.
“Why? Do I not look ready?” Truth was, I was pretty beat. The day before we’d started aviation and aerospace studies with advanced aerodynamic flight exercises. Caius insisted that I was “cutting it a little too much to the left” when I ascended from a standing position. Not to mention we had horrible weather all day—first rain, then hail, snow, and blizzard conditions. That’s what happens when you live with Fallen. They can get you whatever kind of weather you want. “What’s on the agenda today?” I tried to sound upbeat, energetic.
“Defense and classified secrets of all the governments in the world, including where top terrorists are hiding. And if you behave, military secrets of ancient Greece, Rome, Egypt, and Mesopotamia!”
I perked up when he mentioned the thing about where the terrorists were hiding. Tired as I was, I could muster up some energy to smoke ’em out of their holes, George W. style. Or should I say Barack Obama style? “Cool.”
“But first, we need to talk about one of the most important things of all.” His mood turned deadly serious.
He had my full attention. “What’s that?”
Arcturus took a seat across from me. “Angelology. You must understand how we came to be, how the Order works, and your place in it.” He pulled a sword from his hip and nodded to me.
I grabbed a sword from my hip and began to circle him.
Arcturus swatted at me with his sword. And I answered with the blocks, chops, and swings he’d taught me. Arcturus barely broke his regular breathing pattern. “The Order was created by Lucifer. He convinced Michael of its necessity. Said it would make us more responsible one to another.” Arcturus jabbed at me and nearly took my eye out, but I moved quickly out of the way and almost took a nip out of his right side in return. He smiled. The kid was always smiling. “And it worked well until Lucifer was exiled, before he threatened to come back to the heavens, take over, and take angels with him. He hated being cast aside, embarrassed, stripped of his wings, and made to crawl on his stomach. He hated that his children remained loyal to their posts and did not go with him. He doesn’t want his place back. He wants to take over.”
I jabbed forward, then forward again. “I never knew Lucifer had kids.” Arcturus’s story seemed half-told.
He began slashing at me like a crazed robot. I responded with a high block above my head, then a side block, then a low block. The sound of the blades meeting rang out in the hollow space.
“Grace, the Order was arranged and instituted by our enemy. He sought to destroy us from within and use the Order to do it, to place himself and his followers as rulers over us. Do you think it is a coincidence that the seraphim are of the highest Order? And now, it cannot be undone. The Divine One cannot go back on his word.” Arcturus became quiet. He looked down at his hands, then back at me. His expression was empty and devoid of hope.
I pushed him away from me with my sword, and he stepped backward and swung his sword high above his head in a semicircle before crashing it down on me.
I quickly raised my arm to block him with my sword, but it was too late; he was too fast. The feel of the blade splitting my bone was unbelievably painful. I fell to the ground and took Arcturus with me. One part of my arm dangled at a ninety-degree angle from the other part. The sound I heard was me, screaming. I dropped to the ground with the pain of a thousand hammers, knives, and fires tearing at my arm. Blood splattered onto my face, clothes, on Arcturus, on the ground, and covered the blade.
Arcturus sat beside me and cradled me in his arms.
“Arcturus,” I cried into his ear. The pain was exactly how one would imagine it would be. Like someone slicing into your arm’s skin, bone, muscle. I wished I could pass out, like people on TV do from the pain.
Arcturus really looked like a kid at that moment. One who’d gotten caught stealing. “I’m sorry, Grace. I’m so sorry,” he offered. He threw his sword down and grabbed at my arm, bloodying his hands and nails. Arcturus pushed the pieces of my arm together and held it. Gross.
The searing heat from Arcturus’s hand over my arm was like hot coals being placed on a third-degree burn. I heard only my own screaming in my ears. Soon, I began to heal, bones, tendons, muscles, skin, and veins all reconnecting as if they’d never been forced apart.
When finally I quieted, Arcturus continued, whispering softly in my ear. “There are nine Orders of angels, including Angels, Seraphim, Cherubim, Thrones, Dominions, Principalities, Virtues, Powers, Authorities, and you. Humans mistakenly think one angel to be of significant class over another, but in our world, ‘purpose’ rules over class or hierarchy. Those without purpose, or who are Fallen, or are enslaved, are ruled by class. Your mother was a seraph, you know.”
Arcturus explained it all, but I was still somewhat foggy on who was higher than whom. And my arm hurt like heck. It was a lot to take in, hearing that my mom was a seraph like Lucifer. I mean, Vivienne had told me, but I’d never thought of it like that, that Lucifer and I, we were the same—almost.
“Did you catch that, Grace? You seem pretty out of it.” Arcturus looked at me with concern
, but there was something else too. Fear.
“I think so. Seraphs light up everything, Cherubs kick people’s asses, Virtues are like, keepers of all things important to human survival, Powers are the historians, Authorities are the ghostwriters, Thrones are the judges, Dominions are the lawmakers, Angels are the regular Joes of our world, and who else is there?” I tried to sound happy, make jokes. “Oh wait. And Principalities.”
“Then there’s you. A totally unspecified angel, not part of the Order, and not bound by its rules. You, Grace Ann Miller, are the key to changing everything. Setting things back in order. Ending this nonsense.” A satisfied smile slid across his face. I’d managed to convince him that I was okay and not at all bothered by thoughts of being like … Lucifer.
“Great. I feel totally unprepared. I just almost got my arm chopped off by a friend. Don’t think I’m quite ready to face an enemy yet.”
Arcturus said, “You are a High Priestess among angels, a ruler, Grace. You were created from the highest and most favored of beings—embodying the angelic ideal. When the time comes for you to fight, you will be ready. I promise.”
“Okay, so the talents and posts, what about all that?” My arm was just about to feel better until my mind wondered to that email about Remi returning to his post. That night seemed so long ago.
Arcturus let out a sigh. He hated having to repeat himself. Or at least, he didn’t like talking unless there was some physical activity, like fighting, going on while talking. Arcturus loved to fight. And teaching me how to fight well, he loved that even more.
“Talents are like jobs. So, an angel can be a healer or comforter or peacemaker. That would be his talent. He can also be a death monger or demon-slayer. Also a talent and much more fun if you ask me. Some angels have multiple talents, like you.” He let go of my arm, which now felt like it was on the mend. It still hurt, though. Arcturus ran his hand over my arm and a cast materialized over it.
“I do?” I perked up and cocked my head sideways. “How do you know what your talent is? What about posts? What’s Remi’s post?” I spat it out as if someone had slapped me on the back while drinking.
Praefatio: A Novel Page 18