by Debra Dunbar
“I won’t tell,” Nyalla promised. And she meant it. It would be fun to let Sam know that Gabriel was drinking coffee, but she’d keep it secret. She’d keep the whole thing secret. As much as Gabriel didn’t want his siblings or Sam to know about his condition, she didn’t want any of them to know that she was the one responsible.
“Should I drink another glass of wine while you finish your rancid juice?”
She bit her lip. “Probably not on an empty stomach.”
“My stomach isn’t empty. I’ve had water, half of a glass of juice, a sip of acid-tasting soda, a sip of rancid juice, and a glass of wine. I probably should have another.”
Nyalla downed the margarita. No. She wouldn’t get Gabriel drunk. At least, not tonight. “I’m done. Let’s head back to the room. I’m sure you’re tired, and you’ve probably never been tired ever before in your whole life.”
Strangely enough, she was the one leaning on Gabriel as they walked back to the lobby and took the elevator to their floor. She’d only had one beer and the margarita, but it all seemed to go straight to her head, making her feel warm and drowsy, content and happy. The angel’s arm came around her shoulders and she rested her head against him, feeling the rough cotton of the shirt and the firm chest underneath.
“Are you okay? Do I need to carry you to the room?”
That would be awesome. “No, I’m fine. Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” His arm tightened around her shoulder. “You can ask me anything.”
“Is it so horrible? Being human?”
The elevator dinged for their floor before he responded. “At first it was too much sensation all at once and I felt as though I was going insane. I felt completely powerless. I still feel that way sometimes. My physical form battles me for control, and sometimes wins. I’m not used to that. And I’m not used to having such inadequate skills and abilities. But even with the limitations, being human has an odd appeal.”
“Like what?”
“It’s hard to describe. There’s a closeness, a bond that develops quite quickly with other humans. It’s similar to what I feel for my siblings, but different. There’s a physiological component to it that borders on sinful, but somehow transcends those base instincts.”
“I think you described it perfectly.”
They walked to the room, and just as Nyalla was about to swipe her key card, Gabriel stopped her. “Do you enjoy being human, Nyalla?”
“It’s all I know.”
“But it isn’t all you know. Was there ever a time when you were growing up in Hel that you wished you were an elf?”
“Never. I’ve met some wonderful elves recently, but when I was in Hel the only ones I had contact with were horrible beings. Actually I used to wish I was a demon so that I could sneak into the elven lands and burn them all to a crisp.”
“Revenge degrades your vibration pattern. It’s far more beneficial to forgive.”
“But aren’t you pursuing Tura for revenge? I don’t see you forgiving him.”
Gabriel jerked back, as if she’d slapped him. “No, I’m pursuing him for justice. He needs to come before the Ruling Council to answer for his crimes.”
“And what happens if it seems he might slip away again? Will you take justice into your own hands? Because that sounds awfully close to revenge in my mind.”
He stared at her for a moment. “Perhaps we should enter the room. You appear fatigued. I believe the time for sleep is upon us.”
Nyalla snorted and turned to swipe her keycard. He could shift topics and evade the conversation, but he’d never be able to ignore what she’d said. There was nothing wrong with vengeance in her mind, but clearly Gabriel needed to think through his motives, and decide whether he was as much of a stickler for the rules he’d always claimed to be, or if there was another side of him.
Flicking on the lights, she looked around the room. Everything was still neat and tidy from Gabriel’s housekeeping efforts earlier. It was still early, but after everything she’d been through today, Nyalla was feeling like she wanted to curl up on a soft mattress with a good book, or perhaps some television.
And why did her mind immediately put Gabriel in bed beside her, reading a book of his own, or snoring lightly with his arms wrapped around her? He was an angel. She wasn’t going to get him drunk and she wasn’t going to seduce him. As if she even could seduce him. This wasn’t Nils, a Fallen who was reluctantly coming to terms with sexual desire. This was Gabriel, the most straight-laced, rule-focused of all the archangels. He might kiss her, joke about his occasional erection. He might drink beverages, and eventually eat food, but there was no way he would ever indulge in sins of the flesh. Even now that he had a body purpose-built for such activities.
And that thought had her eyeing his purpose-built body. Wow. Just wow. He was so…. Jacked was the word Terrelle used? But it was more than his muscles. It was his crazy dark hair, his eyes that shifted from blue to green to gray even as a human. It was that sexy scowl that made her legs go weak and wobbly.
“You take the bed,” she told him gallantly, forcing the tantalizing images of him sleeping next to her from her mind. And definitely forcing the images of him making love to her from her mind. “I’ll take the sofa.”
He scowled. Oh, Goddess, he was so sexy when he scowled.
“No. I will not take the bed.” He stomped over to the sofa and plopped down swinging his legs up. Nyalla stifled a laugh. His shoulders were so broad that half his body was hanging over the edge. His legs were draped over one of the sofa arms at the knee.
“Get. In. The. Bed.” She made her words as stern as possible given how close she was to a fit of giggles, then pointed dramatically. “You don’t fit on the sofa. I do. Now stop being honorable and be sensible.”
He gave her a side-eye, arching up a dark eyebrow. Then he sighed and got to his feet. “You are a very bossy human woman. And I find it very hard to argue with you. You win.”
The angel went into the bedroom, pausing at the threshold and looking back, as if he wanted to say something. Then he gave her an embarrassed smile and wished her goodnight, leaving the bedroom door open.
She heard him moving around in there, then the squeak of the mattress, followed rapidly by the rhythmic sound of his breathing. Getting up from the couch, she took a quick peek inside, transfixed by the man sprawled fully-clothed across the bed, his arms crushing a pillow against his chest. How she wished she was that pillow. Tip-toeing in, she pulled a tank top from one of the dresser drawers, then went into the bathroom and changed for bed. She’d need to pick up a toothbrush for Gabriel in addition to the clothing. And probably a razor. He could hardly use hers, and after a day, he’d have some whisker scruff. Although Gabe with whisker scruff would be incredibly sexy. Whisker scruff, and that scowl. Oh, wow, the idea was turning her on. And there was no way she was going to take care of things herself with Gabriel just one thin wall away. What if he woke up and caught her rubbing one off on the couch? Would he think her sinful?
What did she care what he thought? He was an angel. He was a sanctimonious jerk of an angel, according to Sam. But in spite of what the imp had told her, Nyalla liked Gabriel. He had a sweet, honest kind of innocence about him. And it wasn’t just his scowl that was sexy. When he looked at her with those gray-green-blue eyes, she felt special. She felt like maybe down deep inside he considered her an angel too.
With a sigh, Nyalla plopped down on the sofa, using a beach towel as a blanket. It was going to be a long night. This sofa had to be the most uncomfortable thing she’d ever slept on. Or not-slept on. It didn’t help that she knew Gabriel was in the next room, with the pillow bunched up under his head and his legs sprawled across the mattress. She’d rather be in there with him, but that wasn’t to be. What was her weird fixation with angels anyway? Her brief affair with Nils had ended badly, and she’d sworn to only date humans, or possibly werewolves, from that point on, but here she was lusting after an angel who was sleeping inno
cently in her bed while she tossed and turned on the sofa.
Yes, it was going to be a very long night.
Around midnight, she just couldn’t take it anymore. There was no way she’d get any sleep on this horrid couch, and she needed to be well-rested if she was going to deal with a Gormand. The bed was huge. Gabriel was fully clothed. She had on a tank top and underwear. They could certainly sleep next to each other without being overcome with passion. Getting up, she crept into the room, sliding in next to the angel and tugging the blanket over her legs.
An arm came around her waist and hauled her over, wrapping her tight against a warm body. He mumbled something into her hair, then sighed.
Okay. Nyalla lay awake for a while, just enjoying the press of him against her, then she drifted off to sleep, feeling content.
Chapter 10
“Where have you been?”
Gabe watched Nyalla wipe the sweat from her forehead as he scowled at her. It wasn’t really anger he was feeling, it was relief. Sometime in the night she’d crept into bed with him, and he’d awoken near dawn with arms and legs wrapped tightly around her. It felt right to have her there. She was warm and soft. Her presence calmed him, relaxed that tense, tightly wound part inside himself that never seemed to loosen. He’d dozed back off, the smell of her vanilla shampoo and the feel of her slim body against his filling his thoughts and fueling his very unchaste dreams.
When he’d woken to find her gone, he’d nearly panicked. All sorts of horrible images had been going through his head: Nyalla being raped by the Gormand. Nyalla being killed by that Gormand. Nyalla being killed by Tura. Nyalla being killed by a stray car, or a homicidal human, or a wild dog, or a shark. He had no idea how to contact her, no way to locate her. He felt trapped here, unable to go look for her in case he got lost or she returned in the meantime. Barely tamping down his anxiety, he’d spent the last hour re-folding all of her clothing, organizing it by type and color in the various drawers and closets, then doing the same with every one of her belongings. He was just starting in on the contents of her purse when he’d heard the beep of a swipe card in the door and saw her enter the room.
“Ooo, are we a bit grumpy in the morning? I think so. Relax. I went for a jog. You were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you.” She looked at the object in his hands. “Are you going through my purse? Seriously, Gabe, you can’t do that. You can’t mess with a woman’s underwear, and you can’t go through her purse.”
“What else was I supposed to do? I’ve already organized all of your clothing and the hundreds of little bottles and jars in the bathroom.”
She rubbed her face with her hands, sighing. The woman didn’t seem truly upset. How could she be when the room was now tidy and neat, with everything in its proper place. He’d even moved the furniture to more aesthetically pleasing locations.
“Let’s make breakfast. You’ve got to be starving by now.”
He’d assumed the twisted knot in his stomach was over worry for Nyalla, but now he was remembering it felt similar to this last night as well. But food… It was one thing to drink water and the occasional wine for his heart. It was another to consume dead plants and animals. It all seemed so base, so primitive. Even if he did recover from this spell, his vibration pattern would never be the same.
“Gabe, you have to eat. I promise I won’t tell a soul and once all this is over and you’re an angel again, you can forgo food and drink once more. Heck, you can even stop breathing if you want.”
“I’ve done that, but I can’t communicate with the humans if I’m not breathing. Plus, it tends to cause alarm among them.” Another cramp hit his mid-section. She was right. The pain was horrible, and he already was feeling weak, as if he might lose consciousness. “What do you recommend I eat? It needs to be nutritionally sound. And it shouldn’t be decadent enough to cause me to fall into the sin of gluttony.”
Did she roll her eyes? Gabe was pretty sure that Nyalla had just rolled her eyes.
“Omelets, then. And toast with butter.” She started to pull pans out from under the stove. “Did you shower yet? If you don’t mind me all sweaty cooking breakfast, I’ll grab mine after we eat, and you can get yours while I’m cooking.”
“I couldn’t figure out how to work the bathroom equipment. The water was very cold, and the tub won’t fill up. It just goes down the drain.”
She hesitated. “Did you pee? Do you at least know how to work the toilet?”
“That I figured out, as well as the sink and the mouth-cleaning supplies.”
“You used my toothbrush.” She sighed, as though he’d done something wrong.
“There was only one there. Wasn’t I supposed to use it? I boiled it afterward. Well, I think I boiled it. The machine there with the dirty dishes in it has a setting called sanitize.”
“You ran my toothbrush through the dishwasher?” Nyalla waved a hand in front of her face. “Never mind. Come on. I’ll show you how to work the shower.”
Gabe followed her into the tiny bathroom, taking off his clothing and folding it neatly on the sink while he watched her explain the tub stopper, the temperature controls, and the lever to divert the water to the shower nozzle up on the wall. She turned around and her eyes widened as she looked from his face downward.
“What? Is something wrong? I’m not supposed to take a shower with clothing on, am I?”
“No. Nothing is wrong at all,” she squeaked. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before. I mean you were at the beach last night when we were swimming, but it was dark and I don’t see well in the dark, but now it’s daytime and it’s very bright in this bathroom. And…in fact, everything is just perfectly alright. You…scrub everything. I’m going to make omelets now. Making omelets while you’re in here. Then afterward I’m going to take a very long shower. Very long.”
He watched her leave, then adjusted the water to optimal temperature, pushed the lever for the overhead shower, and got in. The moment the water hit his skin, Gabe felt as if he were in a state of bliss. He’d always had an attraction to water, and being one with the sea was equal in his heart to being in Aaru. This was better. Being human meant he felt every drop of water as it impacted his flesh and slid down along his skin. The room steamed up. His muscles relaxed. Even that annoying painful knot in his midsection went away. He could have stayed here forever, but Nyalla was preparing food, and it would be rude to make her wait while he enjoyed the newfound sensation of a hot shower. Reluctantly he turned the water off and dried himself with a towel.
To dress or not to dress? He’d worn those clothes all day yesterday, and since he’d slept in them, Nyalla hadn’t had a chance to wash them last night. The idea of putting them back onto his clean body was revolting. So instead he tried to wrap the towel around himself, abandoning it after several failed attempts to secure it around his hips.
Naked it was. Still he brought the towel with him to put on the chair seat, since he wasn’t confident in the cleanliness of the cushion.
Nyalla caught her breath when she saw him, her eyes doing that slow perusal again. “Oh no. I forgot to buy clothes on my way back from my jog. And yours are dirty. And there’s no way you’ll fit into any of mine — no way at all. She grabbed her phone and typed something, flipping the omelet as she read the response.
“I’m guessing you don’t know what size you wear, do you?”
Gabe looked at his arms, then down at his lap. “Human male sized?”
She grabbed something off the counter and came toward him. “Stand up. I need to measure you.”
He stood and she wrapped a piece of string around his waist, pulling it away to look at it a moment before bending down to wrap it around his lower rear. That dangling appendage used for urination and procreation twitched upright, tapping her in the chin. She giggled and looked up at him.
It was funny. He smiled back. “It does that all the time. Clearly this body likes you. I like you.”
“Well, I like you too. And I also lik
e your body. Perhaps your body and mine can be friends?”
She was teasing him, but there was something behind the words that made him believe she was just as interested in having sexual intercourse with him as his body was to have it with her. But was the angel inside the body interested? Gabriel remembered their kiss last night, the way her skin felt against his in the bed, the dreams he’d had all night, how he’d panicked to wake up and find her gone.
Was it odd that he felt less concern about the effect of sexual intercourse on his vibration levels than eating that omelet she was making? Having random sex with every willing human he came across would have been an appalling abandonment of his morals, but affirming an emotional connection via physical, sensory experience seemed perfectly acceptable.
He was still undecided about the omelet.
“I’m fairly certain that more than our bodies are friends, Nyalla.” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but he was feeling strangely vulnerable, embarrassed by how he’d come to rely upon this woman he’d just met, to have her matter so much to him in such a short time.
“Maybe friends with benefits? Oh no, forget I said that. It’s not what I want anyway. I want more and…just never mind.” She stood and looked at the string, then typed something into her phone. Gabe frowned, trying to make sense of her words.
She waved him to the chair. “Now sit and eat your omelet before it gets cold. Terrelle and Snip are going to buy and bring some clothing for you.”
He sat, taking a few bites of the omelet before he even realized what he was doing. What was this ‘benefits’ thing? Wasn’t friendship inherently beneficial to both parties? Was there something additional that he’d neglected to do? Judging from how flustered Nyalla was, he didn’t think it prudent to ask her. Maybe one of the maids could tell him, or perhaps he’d come across an explanation in one of Nyalla’s many books.