Anahita gritted her teeth and pushed it back with all of her might. And then she nearly dropped the sword, for another disparate Compulsion stretched within her. This Compulsion, rather than urging her to kill the humans assigned to her, pressed her to protect Max. To Guard him.
“Oh, Lord of the Most High,” Anahita muttered, the sword shaking in her hand.
Jayden stepped toward her, his brows crashing together, his hand reaching for her. “What is it?” he asked harshly. How must she look to wrench such a response from her usually stoic brother? “Anahita?”
Her natures. Her cursed dueling natures. She was so ashamed of them, she had never discussed them with anyone. Who knew that each side of her—both Warrior and Guardian—would have their own Compulsions? Would someone have been able to tell her to expect this if her own pride had not gotten in the way?
It did not matter now. “No, no,” Anahita moaned. She could feel her Compulsions swirling around each other within her—almost as though they were facing off. Her Warrior side pressed her to allow her mission to kill Max to set; her Guardian side begged her to take Max on as her Ward.
Which would win?
“Anahita!” Jayden grasped her by her upper arm and pulled her toward one of the armchairs in front of his desk. He exerted pressure until Anahita’s knees collapsed beneath her, and she crashed into the plush leather with no grace.
But when he reached for the sword to take it from her, Anahita snapped, “No!” She jerked it out of Jayden’s reach, nearly cutting herself in the process.
Jayden’s eyes grew wary. “Careful, angel,” he said while backing away slowly.
She could barely register the change in Jayden. She could only clench the hilt of the sword and pull the weapon in as close as the flames would allow. She needed it. She had to use it.
She had to protect Max from it.
No! She had to kill Max with it. Her head felt as though it would split apart as a jagged shard of pain shot through her.
“Angel, you promised to tell me when your Compulsion set,” Jayden said from behind his desk, his hands held out, palms down, in front of him.
Anahita blinked up at him until he came into focus. “Why do you call me angel?” she asked, her voice cracking with the force of concentration it took to utter the words.
Jayden straightened, obvious hope flashing across his face. “Are you still—Anahita?”
“Of course I am,” Anahita said, frowning. Her hand hurt, and she looked down to see it clenched so hard around the hilt of Jayden’s sword that her knuckles blanched white. The flames of the sword had switched from green and gold to red and black. When had that happened?
Both of her Compulsions pressed against her skull again, but the momentary distraction of talking with Jayden gave her the strength she required to push them both back. She imagined forcing them into a chest and locking it.
Immediate relief flooded her, and in that same moment, the sword’s flames went back to green and gold.
She heard Jayden push out a breath from across the room. Oh, heaven. She had almost allowed her Compulsion to set. Without thinking through her plan first. Whether her Guardian or Warrior side had won was irrelevant. Angels who allowed their Compulsions to rule them in deciding their missions were dangerous.
Jayden’s expression softened. “Do not look so shocked, Anahita,” he said softly. “Did you think fighting the Compulsion would be easy?” He smiled gently. “You did well.”
He had no idea. She did well? She was going to be destroyed. If she could not join her Warrior brethren by completing her mission, what good was she? Becoming a Warrior had always been her dream—a dream she wasn’t supposed to have but did nonetheless.
And now, one human threatened all of that. Max stood between her and her dream by either leading her to her Fall or, possibly even worse, turning her into a Guardian.
Perhaps she should be grateful that the man who could be her potential downfall had looked at her with complete disgust and spoken cruelly. She had never understood women who were with men who were mean to them. It was not attractive—at least, Anahita did not find it so. Enough women were with these men that maybe they did find it attractive.
And she certainly had not enjoyed the physical side of their encounter. It had left her more frustrated than she had started and feeling shame—an emotion she did not want to repeat.
Women liked sex? It didn’t seem likely to Anahita. She peeked up at Jayden through the fringe of her lashes and considered him in a new light. Does Grace like sex?
She didn’t realize she had projected the question until Jayden’s face grew grave. His lips parted for a moment, and then his teeth clashed together, and he fisted his hands. “Are you sure you do not want me to kill him?” he ground out.
That same shame that had been with her since she’d touched Max lit through her. “I will kill him,” she muttered, gritting her own teeth when both of her Compulsions reacted to the words.
Just then, she felt herself being summoned by Remiel, the leader of the Warriors. Anahita felt her eyes dart back and forth as the feeling that she needed to meet with the Warrior grew stronger and stronger—until it was nearly a Compulsion all its own. This ability to summon other angels was one of Remiel’s gifts and one of the few gifts Remiel revealed to others. The angel was notoriously enigmatic, and many suspected he had myriad gifts from the Most High that he used in secret so as not to reveal any weaknesses.
He did not shy away from using this particular gift, however. Anahita had been summoned by Remiel many times, and never for a heart-warming chat.
“I, uh—” Anahita broke off to clear her suddenly dry throat. “I must leave ... go elsewhere, I mean.” They both knew Anahita could not leave, not with Max located in the building. “Is there somewhere private I can go?”
Jayden’s gaze grew intent, and Anahita blocked him from her thoughts. He did not need to know Remiel’s arrival was imminent. “You will be staying here for a while?”
The very thought struck panic in Anahita’s chest. More time with him meant more time to Fall for him. Nevertheless, “Yes.”
Jayden nodded. “Then, you will need a room.”
Anahita felt her eyes widen. A room? Something of her own? She had never had something to call her own. “Very well then,” she said with false calm.
Jayden smiled again, and she knew she had not been as calm as she should have been. He began to walk out of the office, and Anahita knew she was to follow him. As they passed through the main room, Anahita’s eyes naturally found Max’s form where he was still beneath the Trees, talking in low murmurs to Eli and Jericho while Luke stood at Max’s shoulder, nodding along with something Max was saying. At the sight of him, some of the anxiety Anahita had been feeling since leaving his presence loosened. Max’s head began to turn in their direction, and Anahita looked away before he could catch her staring at him. Again.
Jayden was speaking and appeared to have been for quite some time. Anahita caught his words in the middle of a sentence. “—is a fully functioning military compound with medical staff, research specialists, and promising young soldiers. The other two Impulse pairs used to stay here at the compound, but both families have moved to houses in consideration of the children. Grace and I still live here, however, so should you need anything, we will be here for you.”
Anahita was still puzzling over the sentimental way Jayden had said the world children when she noticed they were walking through what appeared to be a barracks. Jayden pressed a palm to a door in passing. “Our quarters,” he said, before stopping at the door adjacent. “You can stay here.”
Anahita frowned up at him. “You want children?” The invasive question escaped her before she could call it back, and Anahita wished the words had stayed in her head—though that may not have kept them from Jayden’s knowledge, either.
Jayden’s eyes widened. “It is that obvious?” he asked while rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.
“Jayden
, it is forbidden,” Anahita said in a low voice, trying to keep the censure from her tone.
One side of Jayden’s lips tipped up. “And so is Falling for Temptations. I have already done that. What is to keep me from other forbidden things? I have nothing left to lose and much to gain.”
Anahita’s frown deepened. Jayden’s reasoning made sense in a bizarre way. Yet, to create a Nephilim—it had not been done in millennia, and would not go unmarked by the brethren.
Jayden shifted his weight. “It is not in the works, by any means,” he said dismissively. “In the meantime, I greatly enjoy the humans’ offspring. They allow Grace and me to care for them frequently, and it makes both of us happy enough for now.”
A sudden stab of impatience came with Remiel’s next reminder that she was being summoned, and Anahita knew by instinct that Remiel waited for her just beyond this closed door. He was one of the few other angels that also possessed Anahita’s gift of teleportation. “Yes, well,” Anahita said in what she hoped was a light, lilting voice that did not betray the urgency she felt to meet with her leader. She placed her hand on the doorknob of her quarters. “I will see you later then,” she said lamely.
Jayden cocked one eyebrow but nodded. “Yes, later.” The sound of a door opening brought both of their attention to Jayden’s quarters. Grace stuck her head out into the hall, her riot of red hair catching the light in the hallway and appearing flame-like around her head. A rumbling sound came from the general region of Jayden’s chest.
“Much later,” he said over his shoulder to Anahita, already walking away from her and toward his Temptation. He never looked back as he playfully pushed the now grinning Grace back into their residence, following her in and closing the door behind them with a resounding boom.
Anahita stared at their closed door for a few heartbeats, an unknown longing weighing in her heart. Then, with a shaky intake of breath, she turned the doorknob and entered the dim interior of her quarters.
Chapter Eight
It took Anahita’s eyes no time to adjust to what appeared to be a tiny apartment, with a shadowed, winged form standing in the midst of a smattering of living room furniture.
“You are late.” The indictment was delivered in a deep, rumbling voice, but it was delivered emotionlessly. As was to be expected, of course.
Anahita, however, found it impossible to be emotionless at the casually delivered phrase. She felt a wave of what had to be annoyance. It prickled up her spine and bit at her mercilessly. The words, “I did not know we had an appointment,” left her mouth before she’d knew they were forming.
As Remiel stepped forward into a shaft of light from the nearby window, she could see that he’d raised one eyebrow, and a sick feeling collected in the back of her throat. Had she just spoken to her superior—the angel who would determine if she would join the Warriors or not—in that disrespectful tone?
“Apologies, brother,” Anahita murmured, making sure to keep the sick feeling from tinging her tone. “I am feeling the pressure of the Compulsion. It is ... taxing.” Truth—it had to be. However, it was not the whole truth, and she hoped Remiel would not pick up on that.
“Your Compulsion,” Remiel said, nodding slowly. “Yes, that is why I am here.”
Oh, heaven. This was going to be bad.
Remiel lowered himself into a nearby armchair and then gestured for Anahita to take the couch opposite him.
He was offering her a seat in her own home? Or ordering her to take it—again, in her own home? That Anahita was so proprietary over a space she had just been given was not rational. She could not, however, keep those feelings at bay, and resentment that he would do such a thing moments after she’d been given this boon burned hot in her chest.
And, yet, she walked to the couch and settled into the supple cushions.
She expected him to speak right away, but he stared at her, his blue eyes so cold and lacking calculation that Anahita found herself squirming in her seat. How could he be so calm and so intimidating at the same time?
“I have not set my Compulsion,” Anahita blurted into the silence.
Remiel dipped his chin. “This I know.”
Silence again. Was it warm in here? Anahita would swear that it was sweltering. “I, uh ... I need some time to organize my ... thoughts first.” The words were a chore, each one requiring careful planning.
Remiel tilted his head to the side. “This does not have anything to do with your Temptation.”
The words were not spoken as a question, and Anahita knew that was by design. It was quite brilliant, actually, she had to admit. By stating it as though it were a fact, Remiel had made Anahita feel shame at the simple truth that the statement was not fact. Thus, she felt an overwhelming desire to reassure Remiel. To explain everything to him. She tamped down that instinct. “Of course it does not,” she said firmly, her hands clenching beside her thighs on the couch cushions.
Remiel blinked and steepled his fingers in front of his chin. “Hmm,” he hummed.
Compassion was known widely as a tool of the Guardians, but Warriors were not completely devoid of it. Anahita found herself wishing Remiel could have a bit more of it at the moment.
Remiel was known not just for his surplus of gifts, but for the very rare instance of resisting Temptation. Remiel’s Temptation had been a woman, and not only had he resisted her, he had literally destroyed her, seemingly with ease. This epic occurrence had taken place much, much before Anahita’s time, so she did not know firsthand what had happened, but in the whispers among the brethren, Anahita had gathered that Remiel’s Temptation had been a very evil woman—one who had broken some of the Most High’s most important laws. And Remiel had meted out justice despite what Anahita now knew had to have been great internal struggle.
Max had broken one of the Most High’s most important laws as well, and yet, she could not bring herself to do as Remiel had done.
Yet, Anahita reminded herself. It would be done. “I need a small amount of time,” Anahita said, raising her chin and leveling Remiel with steady eyes. “I have only just encountered the objects of my mission, and I must make sure I proceed with caution now that more variables are known.”
The words were wise, Anahita knew, and not ones Remiel could take exception to. The damage a single angel could do when under the power of a misguided Compulsion was not to be taken lightly.
“You must not wait long,” Remiel said after a beat of silence. “This was Jayden’s downfall.” He rose to his feet, and Anahita craned her neck back to maintain eye contact. “Organize your thoughts quickly, Anahita, and get your mission underway.”
“Yes, of course,” Anahita said, rising as well so she could feel more on even footing with the imperial angel.
And without another word of encouragement or censure, Remiel vanished. His final words rang through the quiet of the apartment with what felt like increasing urgency, and as though in response, Anahita’s Warrior Compulsion rose to the forefront to accept the challenge the other angel had laid out. But then, right on cue, Anahita’s Guardian Compulsion beat the Warrior Compulsion back and nearly convinced Anahita to Guard Max before she was able to get a hold of it.
Suddenly, the thought of organizing her thoughts seemed worlds outside of possible.
• • •
Max’s ear began to heat against the metal of the door that led to the angel’s living quarters. Why he was even here, he had no clue. He’d been with Jericho, who had given him a name for what his eye did. It was called Knowledge, and Jericho and his wife, Dahlia, also had the ability, though only through touching one another. Turns out Max had been unintentionally wise to keep his eye’s ability from their captors. It would have been exploited in the worst ways.
Jericho had mentioned in passing that Jayden was showing Anahita where she would stay, and after nearly having a coronary at discovering she was going to stay, Max had found himself right outside her door.
Where he had promptly heard another man speaking
to her in near-whispers. The emotions such a discovery had inspired in him did not bear scrutiny.
Okay, fine, he’d lost his shit a little. But after punching a hole in the wall across from her door, he’d gathered himself enough to listen in on her conversation—a very mature move that he steadily stood by. Especially since it had yielded some very, very interesting intel.
Anahita’s little mission of death did not seem to be her own idea. That was ... nice, Max guessed. As was the knowledge that she was hesitant to carry out her mission—at least, that’s what he was able to glean from her tone of voice and cryptic answers. Reading other people was not Max’s forte. That was more Luke’s area of expertise with his covert ops training. Max had never seen a man who could disappear by appearing ordinary the way Luke could—a stunning feat for a red-haired giant. The things people said in front of Luke because they forgot he was even there, if they’d noticed in the first place, were uncanny. And Luke’s interpretation of body language and voice patterns was almost a superpower in and of itself.
Did the others know that Anahita was under orders from a mysterious other angel? He remembered that there appeared to be an angel-who-was-not-an-angel in their midst—Jayden. Surely he knew about this in-charge angel. Could Jayden be trusted?
Max had to admit that if Jericho and Eli trusted him, then he was trustworthy. He’d found out that Eli and his “Impulse Mate,” as they were called, had a small, infant daughter named Genesis; Jericho and his Impulse Mate, Dahlia, had a baby on the way and a son named Gabriel. If they trusted the angel Jayden to be around their children, Max had no room to protest the guy’s trustworthiness.
And, yet, it was not Jericho and Eli who Max wanted to take this new-angel information to first. Years of being cooped up with Luke and Oliver had built up a near-family feel between them all. He could not think of two different men he would want to have his back than them. But he also could not keep this from Jericho and Eli.
Of Alliance and Rebellion Page 8