by D. F. Jones
Her heart rate had increased, and the fluttering sensation in her lower belly started the moment she saw Anael. She was embarrassed that even in this time of tragedy, this stranger’s presence affected her so.
His gaze never left her, continuing to follow her movements with rapt attention.
Still, she would not allow her reaction to the mysterious loner to distract her. “Father’s throat was cut,” Alerian stated without emotion. Staring straight ahead helped her to gain distance as she fought to maintain dry eyes. She hoped no one saw her body trembling as she answered her brother’s question. Grief gnashed its unrelenting teeth, threatening to claw its way to the surface again.
Steeling herself against the debilitating emotions, she continued, “He did not know the man who killed him, but he did call him Fallen. Images of the murderer and his accomplices are broken, mere slivers of glass, but I will recognize him, all of them, when I see them again. Knowing they are of the Fallen is enough for me. Our truce is now meaningless, and his ass is mine.”
Chapter 2
Alerian’s visions had been correct. The rain began, pounding and unrelenting, not unlike the images she had seen – a clear portent to the fact that she had little time. Rolling clouds cast a shadow over the dark neutral-colored stone courtyard as heavy rain pummeled the surface, simultaneously slicing through the thin, sheer gown Alerian wore. The brass lantern she carried lent its golden cast to the area when she glanced up. She was forced to blink rapidly as she watched the guards’ vigilant movements. Where were they when my father was murdered?
Guards circled the perimeter of the castle, their multi-colored wings moving slowly, silently, as if nothing had happened.
Alerian could not imagine how anyone from outside their compound had managed to penetrate the Appointed’s boundaries without the guards’ knowledge and cooperation. Obviously, they housed a traitor. Someone from inside their compound had to have given the Fallen entrance.
Alerian dropped to her knees and bent forward on the stone floor. “Father,” she whispered, praying their spirits remained connected. “I need your wisdom.”
Whether his response was imagined or real, Alerian could not be sure, but she heard her father’s instructions clearly.
“Alerian.” Raguel’s even tone broke through her father’s voice, always calm no matter the circumstance.
She had heard him approaching, his steps hesitant. Glancing up, she met his emerald gaze. There was no need to say anything. She knew exactly why he had come.
“Come inside. You are soaked. Stop punishing yourself. Father’s death was not your fault.” He reached down and gently grasped her forearm, lifting her.
She complied, accompanying him inside the temple.
The tomb-like enclosure immediately enshrouded them as layers of heavy stone suffocated the sound from the downpour, and the pungent, welcoming scent of flickering candles filled the room.
Anael silently skulked in a shadowy corner, appraising her as usual.
Her body reacted on cue, the fluttering in her belly and tautness of her nipples, leaving no doubt that she wanted him.
Raguel spoke again, “It troubles me to leave you like this. I must travel by nightfall to meet with the Appointed Council majority, but we will discuss this more when I return. Will you please reconsider and allow me to leave Anael here to protect you?”
“You and I both know I do not need additional protection, but I am taking him with me,” she spoke loudly so Raguel and Anael could hear her.
“Taking who where? What are you plotting, Alerian?” Raguel frowned, shifting his gaze to Anael, then back to Alerian.
She glanced at Anael, then smiled before whispering into her brother’s ear, “You allowed him into our midst against my protests. We know nothing of him, Raguel, and I have caught him glaring at me with daggers in his eyes. For all we know, he could be a spy for the Fallen, just waiting for their signal to kill us all while we sleep, but I have a very particular use for him.” She realized her assessment might be extreme, but the fact that her visions revealed nothing of Anael and never had, even upon his arrival, troubled her to no end. Her visions of the world with two moons seemed to have begun in tandem with his appearance. She needed to know why, and she needed him under her watchful eye to find out.
Raguel pulled her aside, as far from Anael as they could get without stepping out into the rain again, then spoke to her in a hushed tone, “You know as well as I that Anael has saved my life and yours many times over. His sword is unmatched except for my own, and if he had any intention of killing me, I would already be dead. As for how he looks at you if you distrust him so, why would you want to take him with you, and I ask again, where? Don’t you know that I would never offer you his protection if I had the least modicum of doubt about his loyalty?”
“How can you be so sure, Raguel? I know he was with you when father was murdered, but was he with you even before that? He could have—”
“Alerian, he never left my sight,” her brother cut her off.
Releasing a heavy sigh, Alerian paced a few steps to stand between her brother and Anael. Her lithe body seemed to float as she moved, her graceful movements causing the light from the candles around the circular walls to flicker, each light dissipating one-by-one with a slight tilt of her head. “As for where I am going, someone has to avenge our father’s death. You take my prime guard with you to the council meeting while I take Anael. He has lived in the Forbidden Zone, and since it is the only way to reach the territory of the Fallen without them immediately seeing our approach, I need him to get me through it. Also, it is Father’s will.”
“Even with Anael there to protect you, the Forbidden Zone was given that name for a reason, Alerian. I cannot approve of you going. The place is crawling with demons just waiting to rip you and anyone like you apart.”
“I do not need your approval. Just because Father’s death shifted you into the position of high priest, do not fool yourself into thinking that I am at your command.”
“I don’t know what led me to believe you would listen to me,” her brother grumbled. “You never listened to Father either.”
“I heard you clearly, but this is something I must do. You, most of all, should understand that.”
Raguel lingered for several minutes, and she knew he wanted to say more, ask her more questions, but he finally let out an audible breath, turned, and left the room after speaking privately with Anael.
The moment Raguel left, Anael approached Alerian, stopping less than a foot away. “I have my orders, High Priestess. It is my duty to serve you.”
Fighting to maintain eye contact, Alerian hid her trembling hands in the folds of her gown. What was it about this man that set her entire body aflame with one glance, no matter how disdainful? His facial expressions and body language revealed very little. The few words she’d heard him utter sounded like he was reciting entries from a rule book. She knew next to nothing about him, and yet something hidden behind those wintry blue eyes ensnared her, wrapping her in a rare state of arousal.
Anael
“The one thing I know about you is you came to us from the Forbidden Zone,” Alerian stated. “This alone speaks volumes for your ability to survive. I am in need of your skills and your…presence to carry me through the Zone undeterred. This is within your ability, yes?”
“Yes.” To Anael’s surprise, Alerian took a step closer to him.
“We leave at dawn.” With that directive, she turned and walked away, obviously accustomed to ordering men around. She had an unnerving way of looking down her nose at him even though he was much taller.
Anael remained still, recalling Raguel’s orders. “I am entrusting my sister to you because I have no choice. She will go alone if I do not comply. High Priestess Alerian is cunning and too stubborn to listen to reason. To reach her goal, she will risk everything, including her life. Guard her with yours, for if she is not returned to me safely, there will be no end to my wrath.”
> After following the alluring sway of Alerian’s hips and the slight movement of her sheer gown until she was completely out of his line of vision, he left the temple. Raguel had no idea to whom he had been speaking, Anael thought, finally reaching his sleeping quarters next to Raguel’s. Entering his room, he placed the last of the belongings he had brought with him inside the bag he intended to carry to the Forbidden Zone. Other contents included a few items of clothing for harsher weather along with food, water, swords, and knives of various sizes.
He lay on the small cot for a few moments, staring at the ceiling. Compared to the rooms of the High Priest’s family, Anael’s was a tiny enclosure just large enough for his cot and a narrow alcove equipped with access to the natural spring. Masters of construction and design, the Appointed Nephilim ran hollowed-out logs throughout the compound for water. It would be thousands of years later before humans rediscovered their methods.
Rising, he stepped into the alcove and showered quickly, then picked up his bag and made his way to Alerian’s prime guard’s quarters. Alerian was the reason he had come to their compound. Residing within the temple as her brother’s prime guard not only made him privy to information, but his position allowed him to see her daily.
Anael had spent years in the Forbidden Zone, but upon his return he, too, would be a target the moment he stepped into the demon-controlled wasteland.
He spent the rest of the night training, his rhythmic sword-play reminiscent of a graceful dance, only resting briefly just before dawn. He was thankful that he did not need much sleep. He would need to be alert and at his best to protect Alerian, and his weapons alone would not be enough.
Chapter 3
Alerian
By the time Alerian and Anael reached the Forbidden Zone, daylight started to wane. Howling, freezing wind sliced across their faces. Dry, broken earth, and the decrepit shells of trees that had gone to meet their maker long ago greeted them with scraggly arms and pointy fingers hanging low to the ground.
After Anael had thwarted Alerian’s attempts at conversation and interrogation with polite, one-word responses, neither had uttered a word for more than an hour after leaving the Appointed compound. Although they had left the rain behind, Alerian knew it would not be long before it became an insurmountable obstacle.
Heavy fog made visibility beyond a few feet impossible, and the bone-chilling cold replacing the warmth of her home—made each step torturous. Completely obscured by heavy dark clouds, the sun was almost completely hidden, but Alerian trudged on despite the conditions, keeping up with the swift pace set by Anael.
Finally, Alerian could no longer refrain from gazing at the handsome, enigmatic soldier walking beside her while he stared straight ahead. Although she had commissioned him to protect her, she knew her way around a sword better than most men. “Do not mistake this journey for my trust.” She pulled her wool cloak tighter as the sharp temperature change began to affect her.
“I assume nothing, High Priestess.” Anael reached over, grasping her elbow to steady her.
How he knew she had stumbled, she had no idea. His focus never seemed to veer from the path ahead. Even more frustrating, he seemed utterly unperturbed by the brutal cold despite his simple, black cotton attire. His footfalls were so quiet, she could not hear them despite her heightened senses. Everything seemed dead in this place. The only sounds reaching her ears were her ragged breaths and desperate, uneven steps.
“Why did you really offer to protect my brother?” She had taken Anael’s advice, hiding her armor beneath the cloak and a long, black dress.
“I offered to protect him because I knew he needed protection.”
“How?”
“I know many things, High Priestess. I cannot tell you how I know them all.”
“You are terribly annoying. Do you know that?”
He chuckled, continuing to stare straight ahead. “Yes, I am well aware of that, too.”
She couldn’t help laughing. Despite his infuriating calm, she liked him. “Why you? Do you not know we have hundreds of soldiers?”
“And yet, your father was still murdered within your compound.”
Alerian stopped, then reached up and grabbed his shoulder so he would turn to face her. His callous response had struck like a punch to her gut followed by a slice behind her knees.
Anael’s puzzled expression made it clear to her that he was completely unaware of how deeply his thoughtless words cut her.
“You have no idea what it feels like to love someone, do you?” She had intended to keep her voice even but failed miserably.
He squinted his eyes, apparently studying hers as his gaze skimmed her face then lingered. To her surprise, he gently touched her face, wiping away a tear as it immediately froze on her cheek. She hadn’t realized she was crying. Something about the way he touched her caused her stomach to clench, exploding in a pleasant, rolling sensation encircling her body. Her feelings seemed unusually volatile and unpredictable when she was around him. The realization should have frightened her as it went against her customary control and logic, but she had to admit how good it felt.
Under the watchful eyes of her father and brother, there had been no one else, but she had never considered another. Busy with her training and education, her duties had never allowed her time to think of men as anything more than practice targets for combat. Even now, she wondered if Anael would reveal himself as her ultimate enemy. No one lived in the Forbidden Zone for long. The land had been razed for decades. Nothing grew there.
“Where is everyone?” Although Alerian knew only demons, criminals seeking a hideout, and other outcasts called this place home, the complete absence of sound sent up red flags of warning. She could hear the pace of her breathing increase, and once again, something set off her internal alarm. She stopped briefly, attempting to look around for signs of movement.
Before she knew what was happening, Anael grabbed her upper arm and pulled her to him, whispering roughly in her ear, “Here,” he said, pulling her impossibly closer as he placed his palm over a previously unseen opening and nearly shoved her inside.
She could not see anything at first, but as Anael led her deeper, she saw a small wooden table, an unadorned cot, wood, apparently used for a fire. A few other tools clearly defined the place as someone’s living space.
“It is not safe at nightfall. We will remain here until dawn,” he stated, setting the large bag he had been carrying down on the floor.
She nodded her assent, curious about the small enclosure. “Yours?” She contracted her stomach muscles, combating the sudden reflection of loneliness absorbed through her touch as she slid her fingers across the table, then surveyed the space without facing him.
“Yes.” He grasped her upper arm again, gently this time, then ushered her across the room and down a narrow, previously unseen tunnel deeper inside the cave. He slid his palm down her arm and wrapped it around her hand, stepping in front of her as the walls did not allow room for them to continue side-by-side.
Fighting the urge to sigh at his touch, she concentrated on each long breath. Anael’s effect on her intensified as her stomach did a feather-light flip every time he made contact. Running water echoed as the tunnel opened to another room approximately the same size as the first, and she was delighted to find a hot spring there. Steam rose from the large, circular pit at the center of the room, and the minerals within the water cast colorful lights around the room, dancing with the slow-moving waves produced by the pit’s source.
Turning to face him, she smiled. Finding something so rare and beautiful in this otherwise barren place made it even more breathtaking. “There’s no bad smell! Did you…?”
“No. It was already here. The cave formed around it, and I don’t believe it’s very deep or very old.”
It was the most she had ever heard him say. He also seemed more at ease in this place. She stared at him, appraising, appreciating. Even for a Nephilim, he was taller than average. Her head only reac
hed his shoulders, and she was not lacking in height. Dark hair accentuated his pale blue eyes, at least two shades lighter than her own.
Now, his previously cold gaze seemed to appraise her as well. Shattering the moment, Anael crossed his arms, all business again. “Come. We should eat something and rest before dawn.” He reached for her hand.
She accepted his touch, along with the pleasant electrical current that zinged from her core sending rays of wanton need throughout her body. She glanced down in an attempt to hide her reaction, then allowed him to lead her back through the tunnel. The sound of rain drew her attention as soon as they emerged from the tunnel. They emerged in a room with circular walls. She watched him remove the heavy satchel he’d brought from the compound for her. “Do you use the hot spring? Is it safe?”
“Yes. I have not been here in some time, though. I will check first if it would please you to use it.”
“Yes. I would like that.”
Placing the satchel on the table, he stepped back to allow her easier access.
“Thank you.” She motioned toward the cot and other objects in the room. “How did you manage to get these accommodations? It must be impossible to find anything useful in this God-forsaken place.” She did not wait for his answer before reaching into the bag to remove some of the bread, fruit, greens, and water she had brought with her.
“I am paid well for what I do.” He reached for an apple.
“Killing people.” It was not a question as she rapped him on his offending hand, then sat akimbo, facing the table. Her long, black dress flowed behind her.