by Laury Falter
“Oh, it’s nothing…” I said sheepishly.
“Magdalene, it’s not a good idea to hold anything back at this point.”
Realizing he wasn’t going to back down, I admitted, “I was…I was just disappointed that I didn’t get a better look at your…at your body before you dressed.”
Without hesitation, he grinned boastfully and when my gaze dropped to the floor he waited for me to look up again.
He was watching me keenly, his signature smirk having lifted his lips. “I’m glad to have that affect on you…”
Then he was gone, leaving me to dress while he prepared his men based on my premonition, one that was steadily becoming a nagging persistence.
I headed for the dining hall wondering whether I’d encounter Felix and Rufus’s friends when I took a detour.
It was a sudden decision and not one consciously made. Something deeper down was driving me, an urgency to hold my sword again maybe. Recalling back, whenever this had happened in my previous lives, I’d allowed myself to go with the inspiration, to follow my subconscious and it had always ended in the same situation…with a sword in my hand. This time was no different, realizing that I had been heading for the weapons room.
Inside, the armament was nearly empty, with only a handful of weapons suspended on the walls and far more hooks hanging empty. Remembering the fact that every one of the Alterums in the dining hall had carried some sort of weapon, I understood why this room stood vacant and pillaged.
Still, one sword in particular was hard to ignore. It had been left untouched, cleaned until it shined even in the dim light.
My sword, the one that I carried with me in battle, had been left alone. Somehow I knew this was a sign of respect by the Alterums, again I was quietly humbled.
Taking it from the wall, I lifted it above my waist, resisting its weight and the slight ache it caused to my wound. I practiced a few techniques, realizing I was faster and more in control than I thought I’d be.
Smiling with relief, I strapped its sheath to my waist and slipped the sword in and then turned to leave.
Magnus leaned against the door, his arms crossed casually, his eyes dancing with laughter.
“Just couldn’t help yourself?” he asked with his gruff voice.
I shrugged, snickering at myself. “It was calling to me.”
“Mine does the same.” He pushed himself off the doorframe and motioned me to follow him. As I did, he spoke and led me through the passageways towards the courtyard, “The blade you hold was used by Ignatius, a fellow comrade now comfortably retired to the afterlife. He is one of the best swordsmen I’ve known, different from the Alterums here and more like you.”
“Oh?” I muttered, intrigued. “How so?”
“He doesn’t take orders from anyone.”
“Hmm…”
After a fleeting look at me, he grinned knowingly at me. “Didn’t think I knew that much about ya, did you?”
Chuckling I admitted it with a quick, tilt of my head.
Magnus stopped suddenly and rotated at the waist with a quizzical look. “He’d be proud to know you carry his weapon.”
“I’m proud to carry it, Magnus.”
He nodded once, firm and in approval, and then opened the door to the courtyard.
There, amidst the clanging of swords and grunts from those in exertion, morning practice was being held. It stopped as we stepped through the door, all eyes watching me as I walked with Magnus towards Eran, who stood against the wall also watching me. His expression differed from the awe the Alterums held. Eran’s was filled instead with a hesitant expectation.
“Figured you could use one more instructor…” Magnus offered to Eran as we reached him.
“I’m not sure I agree with you, Magnus,” said Eran, surveying me.
“I’m ready,” I reassured him.
I was certain of it. My instinct had led me to the weapons room, the same feeling that told me danger was coming very soon and that I would need to be ready for it.
“Rest if you need to, Magdalene. Don’t push it,” he suggested, already anticipating I wouldn’t follow his advice. Still, he shouted to the rest of the Alterums, his voice booming through the yard with commanding presence, “Drills!”
They promptly returned to their training and I took up position as an instructor. The Alterums had advanced in their skills but they held back with me until I couldn’t take enough of their timidity. After an abrupt assault on the largest of the Alterums, one that Magnus had introduced to me the night before named Christianson, he landed with a heavy thud against the back wall, stunned. After that eye-opening interaction with me, he fought hard and unrelenting. The rest followed suit and I was encouraged by the end of the day that they would no longer allow me the courtesy of sympathy.
Later that night, after dinner, I stood on the top of a turret overlooking the dark countryside surrounding the Alterum’s fortress when Eran addressed it. He’d been momentarily relieving Campion from his sentry duty.
“They were soft with you,” he noted.
“Not for long.” I grinned.
He chuckled. “So you are feeling better?”
“Almost entirely. A little stiff sometimes when I move in the wrong direction, but overall I think I’ve healed quickly.”
“You have,” he agreed fervently. “I don’t believe I have ever seen anyone heal at that speed, Alterum or human.”
“Not even yourself?” I asked, tracing the remnants of a scar along his forearm. He trembled under my touch.
“No,” he said, his voice quivering with the surge of excitement at my touch. “Not even myself.”
I enjoyed hearing it and kept caressing.
“I think my body is trying to heal itself before…” I stopped myself.
“Before the Fallen Ones attack us again,” Eran finished the statement for me.
“Yes,” I said tightly, sorry for bringing it up. I removed my hand from Eran’s arm to absentmindedly brush it across the rough edge of the turret’s stone wall. “I-I want just one night for the Fallen Ones not to invade my thoughts.”
I looked up at him. “Do you think that’s selfish?”
His eyebrows curved upward. “Not at all. Magdalene, if anyone deserves a night of rest it’s you.”
“I just…” I sighed, for once allowing my frustration to show itself. “My intuition, the feeling that our enemies are planning something, hasn’t ebbed and yet…here we are at the end of the day and we haven’t seen a single one.”
“You’ve been struggling with that unnerved feeling all day, haven’t you?” he asked with a frown.
I lifted my lips in a half-smile, affirming it.
He lifted his arm over my head and slipped it around my shoulders, the weight of him soothing me instantly.
A scuffing of feet broke the solitude around us and we turned to find Campion coming over the wall. He stooped on the edge of the turret briefly assessing us. “Am I disturbing something?” he asked, tentative.
Eran shook his head, though I sensed that wasn’t an entirely honest response. Campion must have felt it too because he was hesitant stepping down to the inside of the turret.
As Campion’s wings retracted, he crossed his arms and raised his shoulders, both signs of awkward embarrassment. He wouldn’t even raise his eyes to us.
Eran looked down at me, his eyes soft and searching. “Come with me?”
I felt my eyes brighten at his suggestion.
His appendages unfurled behind him and I responded with my own extending outward and readying for flight.
We nodded good night to Campion and lifted ourselves towards the inky sky, going so high that lights shining from within the fortress disappeared entirely. In the far distance, after a wide swath of blackness, London sprawled like a shining cluster of diamonds.
When we stopped to hover, the wind in our ears fell away and we were surrounded by silence. Only the intermittent flap of our wings, keeping us aloft, broke the silenc
e. The air was still, with no hint of a breeze, and a chill surrounded us but it was welcoming.
“The last time you asked me to fly with you…you proposed,” I said, insinuating.
He tilted his head back and released a hearty laugh before swinging around to face me. His hands reached for my hips to lie lightly against my waist, a touch that made my heart leap.
“Would you like me to propose again, Mrs. Talor?” he asked, genuinely interested.
Now it was me who laughed. “I imagine it was tough enough the first time. I wouldn’t want you to suffer through it again.”
“It was tough,” he acknowledged. “But only because I wasn’t sure of your answer.”
“And that…that still amazes me. How could you not have known?”
He shrugged and I realized I was witnessing a rare moment when Eran was unsure of himself.
I reached up to place my hand against his cheek, something that caused him to inhale sharply, a surge of passion rushing through him. It was quick, but I noticed it.
“It will always be yes…” I whispered, lightly kissing his lips…
“I will always be yours…” I continued, kissing along his jaw line…
“And I will always be by your side…” I finished, kissing his neck.
Intending that to be all, thinking we would stay a few minutes longer, pass the time quietly holding hands, caressing each other with a brush of our fingers, until it was time to return, I couldn’t have been more wrong.
A fleeting look, after drawing back, told me this with certainty.
I’d started something that had set off a chain of events inside him. His jaw was now clenched against the passion surging through him. His breath was lodged somewhere inside, stilled by the power of his reaction. His eyes were pulled shut as he battled to contain his emotions.
When they opened they were pleading, but not with me. He was begging himself for a reprieve, to allow himself to toss aside his idealized dream to create the perfect night of intimacy. Being that we’d only been together once before, I understood his persistence for it. But here, at this very moment, it paled in comparison to what we were feeling, to what we each wanted.
“Please…” I whispered my own longing showing.
It was all he needed.
He released a sigh of relief, taking my face in his hands. His lips were intense, soft, exploring as if he’d never experienced this part of me.
I arched my body against him and he moaned in favor of it. Arching deeper, pressing harder, my hands came up his hips, rippling over the contours of his muscles, lifting his shirt higher.
Then we both realized the same thing at once.
Our shirts couldn’t get passed our appendages.
We pulled back, our mouths slack, drawing deep breaths.
“Retract your wings,” I exhaled in a rush.
He did, rapidly, as I held him with one hand and pulled the shirt over his head with the other, letting it fall through the night sky below us.
His appendages snapped back then, keeping us aloft as mine sank back in.
Eran’s arm returned to my waist with an iron grip as his hand slipped underneath my shirt. His fingers moved firm and gentle up my waist, lifting the edge of my shirt higher and then paused briefly as they reached the raised skin marking my injury.
At risk of losing him to his more conscious side, I kissed him, soft at first and with increasing intensity, releasing him only when his hand began to move again.
I knew my shirt was off when the cool air hit my body and my muscles contracted.
Eran felt my reaction and pulled away. His expression was alert and concerned. Instinctually, his eyes scanned the length of my body searching for the reason behind my quiver. Finding nothing, he moved to return to me when he realized exactly what he was evaluating. Pausing, he openly stared at me in the dim light of the moon.
I realized then it wasn’t just the cold but the abrupt realization that I was in front of Eran with my shirt floating down towards the English countryside that had caused my reaction.
This was the moment he’d been waiting a century for, had patiently restrained himself for until it was the perfect time. It was a lot to live up to and I wasn’t certain I could meet his expectations.
I’d never been with anyone but him. I’d never even kissed anyone but him. How could I deliver on something so perfectly defined in his imagination, his most pressing desire? I didn’t want to fail in this. I couldn’t.
He was still gazing at me as I was consciously aware that I might actually disappoint him.
Then he swallowed tightly and what he whispered next consoled me more than anything in the world could have.
“You’re beautiful.” The words seemed rushed, as if he too were suffering from jitters.
My inhibitions, so powerful just seconds ago, were thrown aside and when I pulled him to me the wanting smile he wore gave me confidence that there was no possible way I could let him down.
Our limbs wrapped around each other, fitting perfectly with the other’s body. His hands, so large they nearly spanned the length of my back, pressed me to him, caressing me, exploring me. Slowly, with great awareness, his hips pulled back and gently slid forward…
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: INFILTRATION
My hands lay limp atop Eran’s shoulders as my forehead rested against the curve of his neck. My legs, now dangling and exhausted, tapped him every now and then, although he didn’t seem to notice.
I couldn’t see his face but I’d heard the moan and I’d felt his body shutter just as my back had arched. I’d felt him just as certain as he’d felt me.
Now he hovered, drawing deep and slow breaths, gradually recovering. His arms, still wrapped around my waist, were loose but secure, unrelenting in their efforts to keep me close. His chest, resting against mine, expanded outward with each inhale. Our skin, damp from our exertion, peeled apart and reconnected in rhythm with each breath.
I felt his lips press down against my shoulder, a firm and long kiss, before he tilted his head up and whispered in my ear.
“You are perfect. I could stay here forever with you.”
My appendages, which had seized helping Eran keep us aloft in my moment of ecstasy, were back to working again. I gave them a brief flap as a sign I agreed.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t wait…” His voice broke. “I just…you’re just…it’s been so challenging…” Finally, he gave up trying to explain, sighing, and rolling his eyes, feeling inadequate.
Slowly, a smile crept across my face. “You are always so controlled in your emotions…It was…” I paused, searching for the perfect words to explain what I felt over his spontaneous lovemaking. “It was intensely satisfying to see you lose them over me.”
“It was?” he said, a teasing smile rising up to match mine. His arms tightened around me, moving me closer. “So what you are saying is you’d like to see it more often.”
I laughed at the understatement, the truth being so clear to me that I was astounded it wasn’t to him.
“Much more often,” I confirmed.
“Hmmm,” he mused playfully. “I’ll put some thought to it.”
I groaned. “Always a tease…”
He feigned offense. “How else am I supposed to keep you interested in me?”
“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that,” I reassured him.
He chuckled, his chest vibrating against mine.
“I think-”
My voice cut off at the first sign of them. The hair at the back of my neck began to twitch, slowly growing more irritated. Then the perspiration returned to my forehead and dampened my hands, this time for a different reason.
My eyes were now scanning the sky, searching.
Eran’s hands were on my shoulders then, as he swiveled me cautiously back and forth, trying to gain my attention. “Magdalene?”
I tried to look over his shoulder and noticing it he glimpsed around but, after seeing nothing, returned to me.
My feeling had been correct, my mind screamed. That persistent irritation that something dire would be happening, the very feeling I was trying to annul with an evening flight with Eran, had finally proven itself to be correct.
“The Fallen Ones are here,” I stated, my eyes locking on him, the overwhelmingly euphoric feeling I’d just experienced with Eran now being replaced with the unnerved alarm that our enemies were coming for us.
His lips pinched closed for a brief second. “Stay close to me.”
Then we were falling, pointed directly towards the earth, the brisk air coursing passed us as we plummeted. Just before reaching the ground, we straightened our direction and flew just inches across the grass blades below us.
Eran found my shirt first, handing it to me in midflight. We found the rest of our clothes shortly after, scattered across a field just outside the fortress.
With clothes in hand we lifted ourselves upward a good distance and retracted our appendages just long enough to re-dress.
Our wings didn’t extend again until we’d almost reached the earth, allowing gravity to do the job for us. Our appendages snapped out just before our feet touched the ground and only to break our fall.
Campion was the first to see us land. Given that it was uncommon to find two bodies dropping from the night sky, he knew something was wrong and was the first one at our side. His hand, already on his weapon’s handle, was ready for Eran’s orders.
“The Fallen Ones have arrived,” Eran informed him. “Alert the rest and do it quietly.”
Eran and I took up our swords where we’d left them earlier, leaned against the courtyard walls. He then took my arm and led me inside.
“Where are we going?” I asked, urgently.
Eran’s pace didn’t slow, even as he answered. “To find your recruits.”
“My recruits?” I muttered, thoroughly confused.
We made it to the north side, where the Alterum bed chambers were built, and hurried to one section of corridors in particular.
“Stay here,” he said, releasing my hand.
He then began a sprint down the hall, never pausing while slamming his fist on various selected doors. There was nothing identifying these doors from any of the others. No numbers, no differentiating marks. Yet, he clearly knew which ones interested him.