Chapter 8

Chapter

Eight

Lore wasn’t on the mountainous plateau either, and worry consumed her.

Where did he go?

Nia blew strands of hair away from her face, her warm breath turning white as it met the icy air. Her boots squished through the layer of snow as she trampled the wide expanse. She slowed to a halt some distance from the edge of the sheer drop.

As much as life sucked, and God knew hers did, she didn’t dare get any closer and accidentally slip to her death.

The cold stung her cheeks but did little to ease the new wave of heat pulsing through her, which seemed to settle in her core now.

Christ! That was all she needed to add to her torment.

With shaky hands, she rubbed her burning eyes, feeling as desolate as the mountain. When she awakened this morning, everything had come flooding back, and she sought the one person who’d turned out to be her anchor. But Lore wasn’t around.

A Watcher’s descendant?

Michael’s message said she supposedly was.

As much as she wanted to ignore it, the roiling energy within her and that pyro ability said otherwise. Something was happening to her.

Was that why Kas wouldn’t leave her alone?

Her stomach heaved, and the toast and cold cuts she’d eaten rushed up her throat.

With a moan, she bent over, struggling not to puke. The bastard wanted her for the angelic blood she allegedly carried.

As she straightened, a gust of wind slammed into her, and she stumbled, hitting the slippery surface?—

“Eeep!” she shrieked as she went skidding, spinning like a top across the slick layer of ice. Her heart jammed in her throat, she scrambled for purchase, for anything to hold onto?—

And crashed into a snow pile.

Breathing hard, she lifted her head.

Oh, God! Too close to the edge. Another foot, and she would topple over.

Cautiously, she eased backward…

A creak echoed, and she froze.

Another groan ripped through the air. The crack split the icy ground, forming a fault line behind her.

Oh shit, oh shit! Nia scrambled to her feet. The wind picked up.

A deafening boom ricocheted, like boulders colliding. The ice shelf she was on broke free, and she fell, along with massive chunks of frozen earth.

“Noooo—” Held in the grips of mindless terror, she plummeted like a weighted kite through the dense, vaporous mist. “Lore, help me!”

The wind tore at her flesh. The sounds of splintering chunks crashed far below her like glass fragmenting.

“Lore!” she screamed as she careened downward, past the hovering mist.

Lore, please, please.

She spun like a top in the air current, descending faster?—

No, his full name, the thought shimmered into her mind. “ Loráed, help me, please…”

Tears leaked, and the treetops far below approached at an alarming rate. The winds whined in her ears, and she shut her eyes.

He wasn’t coming.

Death was moments away?—

Powerful arms snatched her from the air. They soared upward. With a hoarse cry, Nia threw her arms around his neck and held on tight. “Y-you came.”

Hot tears coursed down her cheeks. Her heart thrashed violently against her sternum, unable to let go of her horror. She buried her face in his neck and sobbed…

When the tears dried out and the eerie quietness filtered through her chaotic emotions, she became aware of more. Smooth skin over hard muscles and wonderful body heat surrounded her. And that familiar scent of the great outdoors, of citrus groves and the infinite, seeped into her.

Another tremor ran through her. With her head resting on his chest, hiccupping a little, she blinked her blurry eyes and found they were back in the courtyard, under the leafless tree. Lore sat on the bench with her on his lap.

He remained silent. Her gaze lingered on his strong forearms, the corded tendons appearing like steel cables beneath his lightly tanned skin, giving her the safety she desperately craved.

As her shuddering lessened and her burning lungs stopped feeling like they would implode, he asked quietly, “Why did you go up to the plateau? The place is dangerous for mortals, especially during winter, with snow covering every pitfall.”

Her hold on him tightened. She just shook her head and shut her eyes again, still held in the throes of her near death.

“Nia?”

Hearing her name from a male who never spoke it dragged her out of the chilling ordeal. “Y-you weren’t around when I came downstairs. I-I waited, then went looking for you.” I was scared.

His soft, warm breath teased her skin. “You’re safe now.”

She looked up, but her head bumped his chin, and she winced.

He didn’t move. But something flickered in his otherworldly, usually cool stare. The same intensity she’d seen once before flashed to life.

“Thank you f-for saving me,” she whispered, her voice husky from her tears. “I would have died if you…” She swallowed hard.

Without thinking, she reached up and kissed his cheek in gratitude—except he turned his head, and her lips pressed against his mouth instead.

He went dead still.

Nia pulled back, eyes wide. Oh, shit!

His remoteness returned in spades. She doubted even dynamite could shatter his reserve.

“I didn’t mean to do that. I just needed…” Comfort . To know I mattered to someone. But the only people who cared were in New Orleans. “To feel safe.”

His gaze drifted over her doubtless swollen face.

Another shaky inhale, and she swiped her wet cheeks on the hem of her t-shirt, forcing herself to answer his earlier question. “I was several feet away from the edge of the plateau. I know the dangers of an icy surface. A powerful gust of wind knocked me down. I-I slipped and skidded across.” At his unwavering stare, she scowled. “I know it sounds insane, but it happened.”

While she might still be in shock, the heat within caused her foolish body to have other ideas, like lean back into his warm, naked chest and ask him to touch her?—

Before she totally lost her mind, she pushed away, surprised he still held her and hadn’t dumped her ass on the ground after that kiss.

She stood and swayed.

And he was there, grasping her arm, wings fluttering and drawing her attention. They glowed like the setting sun, the colors of flames brilliant and undeniably beautiful against the dark granite of the mountain and gathering rain clouds. The fiery shade almost matched his shoulder-length hair.

“They’re beautiful?—”

“They’re just wings.”

Right. Her gaze lowered to his chest. His right pectoral sported smears of dried blood. Yet there were no wounds or visible scabs.

“You were hurt?” she breathed, gently touching the area with the dried gore. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers. “What happened? Was it demons?” It had to be why he wasn’t at the abbey and hadn’t responded straightaway when she fell off the mountain.

“It’s nothing.”

At his clipped tone, she hastily lowered her hand. His cold stare made it clear he didn’t care for her gratitude, compliments, or concern, and he certainly wouldn’t want her touching him, either.

His wings rustled and vanished, and a black button-down shirt slid over his torso.

And there he was, the well-dressed, unflappable angel protector she knew. To him, she was just a job.

The wind picked up, and the morning turned darker. She shivered and rubbed her arms.

“It grows colder,” he said. “You should be inside.”

Without a word, Nia tucked the sleeves of her sweater over her chilled fingers and trudged back into the kitchen. She picked up the cold mug of coffee she’d made earlier from the table and slid it into the microwave.

A door shut.

“That beverage isn’t enough. Humans need food.”

She glanced back and found him near the outer doorway, sweeping back his breeze-blown hair. The urge to step into him, to feel his hard warmth, his hands around her, took hold.

It would mean nothing, Nia. No emotions, remember?

With great effort, she dragged her gaze away and switched on the microwave. She wasn’t the needy sort.

Her spine straightened, she faced him, her composure back in place. “What food?”

He nodded to the corner counter near the sink and a round plastic container with a yellow Post-it on top. She hadn’t noticed anything earlier, and considering her state of mind had been on overload with what she’d learned about herself, she wasn’t surprised.

Before she started hyperventilating again, she rounded the table to the counter and picked up the note.

Food’s in the fridge.

-Hedori

Curious, she opened the fridge and found it stocked with containers ready to be heated. Nia had no idea who Hedori was or when he had come—it must have happened while she was asleep—but she could have hugged him right then.

Nia picked up the top box labeled ‘ chicken korma and rice’ and paused. She glanced back to find Lore still watching her. “Do you want anything?”

“I don’t require sustenance.”

She blinked. Wow! He’d actually responded with more than a yes or no to something personal? A major improvement from his usual aloof self. Or was it her near-death scare that had caused him to relent? Well, he had to answer to the archangel Michael if she died.

The microwave dinged. She retrieved her mug, set it aside, and popped the food inside.

“What do you mean you weren’t at the edge of the plateau?” he asked.

With one hand braced on the counter, Nia rubbed her hot face with the other as the heat within spiraled from her chest down to her core. Biting off a moan, she clenched her inner muscles.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah.” His brow furrowed at her clipped response—as if she could ever explain this overwhelming arousal—she answered his earlier question. “My search for you led me up there. Anyone would be a little unhinged after hearing how their life had tilted off course. When I saw the steps, I went up. Yes, I walked around the plateau a bit. A breeze started…”

She frowned. “No, the wind was sudden. It swept me up, like a shove. I stumbled and skidded across to the edge. The ice cracked, and I fell…” Remembering how close to death she had been, her stomach heaved.

Lore’s eyes narrowed. “A shove?”

“Yes. I know it sounds far-fetched, but that’s what it felt like,” she muttered. “Where were you?”

“At the foothills.”

“Is that when you got hurt?”

“It was merely a sparring match with another.” He made his way past the sink, around the table, and sat on a chair against the wall. “It’s something we do.”

Thunder boomed, and she jumped, the sound reminding her of the ice shelf crashing. Her belly heaved as her gaze rushed to the window.

“It’s just a storm,” he said, tone quiet.

Fighting for calm, she nodded. “I-I know… Thank you for…for saving me.”

She pivoted, trying to find her calm center, and frowned at the silent microwave. Darn. She switched it on.

“So… Watchers?” she asked, needing to keep her mind occupied and not think of that near disaster or her arousal that had her clenching her core. Mug back in hand, she leaned against the counter and drank some of the warm, weak coffee. Ugh, she scrunched her face, it didn’t get any better?—

And found Lore still watching her.

“Why would anyone kill those angels?” She knew little about those biblical beings despite having looked them up on Google.

Apparently satisfied, she wasn’t going to freak out again; he leaned back in his seat, hands clasped loosely over his flat abs. The top two buttons of his shirt remained undone, revealing a glimpse of lickable tan skin she had seen and touched not too long ago?—

Dammit, no! She had to stop thinking of him in that way. It wasn’t helping her darn problem. He probably saw her as nothing more than a blip—a frail being needing protection.

“They were sent to Earth to aid fledgling mankind,” he said. “They forgot a fundamental rule of the angels and broke it.”

“You mean because they married humans?”

His silvery-green eyes glittered. “Angels are sent to Earth to help humans in need and guide them if necessary, not to form attachments.”

The way he said humans , it was like they were lower than even the sewer rats.

She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t even know me—know my struggles, my pain—how can you form a judgment? You came into my life a few days ago.”

He rose to his feet, so tall and remote, throwing off an aura that pulsed peril. Heck, if she wasn’t the teeniest bit wary, then he opened his mouth.

“I am a realist. We were tasked to carry out orders and do our jobs. Not fall for human females.”

Oh, she got his message loud and clear. Just because of the barely-there kiss that occurred, he now thought she was a…a Jezebel?

Asshole.

“If they did, it’s because they loved,” she retorted. “Do you even know the meaning of the word love ? To risk it all to Hell and back for someone, to go the whole nine yards, just to know they’re okay. To look into their eyes and see your heart reflected back at you. Being able to bare your soul without feeling judged. To know what safe feels like. What home feels like…” Nia trailed off at his remote expression.

Damn! She hadn’t meant to reveal the deep-seated longings of a heart always rejected.

She reeled in her pain and yearning. Oh, she wasn’t done with him yet. “Isn’t God—your God, too—supposed to be all benevolent and about love?”

“Mortals have free will and do as they wish. It’s why humanity is faced with continuous strife. We serve the Celestial Realm and Heaven.”

Meaning angels live a pious, celibate life with no strife? Sanctimonious much?

Heat coiled low in her belly, and she fought to tamp down her inconvenient and ill-timed arousal.

His eyes grew icier. She didn’t care if he picked up on her thoughts! “Have no fear; you’re safe from me. Next time I need comfort, I’ll call Zayn!”

A ding sounded. Dragging air into her burning lungs, she spun to the counter, opened the microwave door, and picked up her food?—

“Ow!” she cried out, dropping the scorching container.

Her mind blurred. Everything spun. One minute, she was at the microwave, and the next, she found herself on the other side of the long kitchen, Lore catching the falling Tupperware.

Christ! Panting like she’d run miles, Nia sagged against the wall, feeling as if she would suffocate. She cradled her throbbing hand against her chest. “What just happened?”

He placed the steaming container on the table. “Your abilities are awakening.”

Her knees gave way, and she sank to the cold floor, her brittle hold on the mockery of a protective shield holding her together shattering.

“You now have the power to flash.”

Where before she supposedly could be psionic, the truth became absolute.

God! She buried her face in her raised knees, her mind unraveling.

“Nia—”

“No.” She lifted her head and glared at him. “If you had even a smidgen of feelings instead of that empty vault in place of a heart inside you, you’d understand what I’m going through. My whole life is falling apart, and you care nothing at all about any of that. As long as I’m safe !”

“Your heightened emotional state will make this harder on you.”

“Heightened emotional state?” She shot to her feet, her entire being trembling. “At least I have empathy. You wouldn’t even know what that is even if it bit your angelic ass?—”

“No!” Lore leaped across the kitchen table and grabbed her arm.

“What the hell are you doing?” she shrieked, trying to yank free, but his hold remained unbreakable. “Release me!”

“I cannot take a chance with you in this state?—”

“State? State ?” Anger erupted. She whipped out the blade from her boot and pressed the point into his sternum. “Let. Me. Go. Or I swear on all that’s holy, I will stab you?—”

“Go ahead if it makes you feel better, as long as it keeps you here. You were dissolving.”

“W-what?”

“Your molecules were dispersing.” His sharp gaze searched hers, as if looking for more anomalies. “You could have reformed midair and crashed to your death.”

She blinked, fear leaching away her anger. Her fingers slackened, and the weapon fell with a clang.

“Nothing this potent comes without a price, Nia,” he said softly. “Nothing. You have to learn how to master this ability, to summon it and reform where you choose.”

She could barely speak past the emotions clogging her throat. “I-I don’t understand?—”

The outer door opened, and Lore stepped back.

A tall, enormously built male wearing only drawstring black cotton pants entered, distracting her. Or rather, his hair did. All that silver, broken by a streak of ebony in front, flowed like yards of gleaming satin down his bare torso of braided muscles. He sauntered over— barefoot —as if he had all the time in the world.

“Well done.” A smirk rode his mouth as he clapped, causing his huge biceps to bulge and abs to ripple. “Don’t despair, oh, Pious One. You’re good at shielding. She was the one who drew me.”

Lore’s flat expression took on an edge of granite. “Could you not dress?”

Oh, so stone could feel when his heavenly self was slighted?

“Be grateful I wear this.” The guy waved a hand over his pants. “Unless you want me here naked.”

Another angel? Was this Michael?

He was as striking as the emotionless angel at her side, to whom she was sadly drawn and who saw her as nothing but a job.

The stranger ambled closer, stopping midway in the kitchen. He scratched his chest, and something black flickered beneath his skin and vanished. Nia blinked, so sure she must have imagined the scales.

“Michael?”

“Nah. I’ll pass on the angelic genus. I’m far superior. But you, pretty female, may call me Oh Mighty One.”

Nia rubbed her clammy palms down her pants, laughter bubbling up her throat. Maybe she was losing her mind. Heck, if he told her he was the Heavenly Father, she’d believe him. “Then you aren’t an angel?”

He snorted, his eerie wine-red eyes studying her.

“Race is a Guardian of the mortal realm,” Lore said, back to his usual detached self. “This is Rania Deveraux.”

Oh, so he did know her full name?

“Guardian?” Nia frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Long story. Reeeeeeeeally boring,” Race drawled, winking at her. “Short version: we exist to keep humanity safe.”

Why did she feel there was more to it? Just like Lore, who was ace at being tight-lipped. But the way he stared at Race, you’d think he didn’t want him there, talking to her.

“Race,” Lore said, tone cold as ever, dispelling any further illusions her idiotic mind conjured up about him softening. “Her powers are awakening faster than expected. I need you to keep an eye on things while I’m away.”

“Yeah?” Race stretched and cracked his back. “What do I get out of this?”

A glimmering gold dagger appeared in Lore’s hand, and he pitched it at Race, who caught it midair. “You know me so well.”

The comment was loaded with sarcasm. Lore ignored it.

“I want you to train her, too. I’ll be back shortly.” Without so much as a goodbye, he vanished from the kitchen in a blink.

What the hell? Nia glared at the spot where the insufferable angel had been moments ago.

“What did he mean by training? With knives?” She swallowed, her gaze darting to Race, flipping the gold blade. While Saia had shown her a few moves, she would have to learn from this massive male who wore peril like a second skin.

“Maybe.” His taunting, somewhat amused demeanor dropped. His head cocked like some predator’s, his attention on the rain splattering against the windowpane. “But not today. Today, I will hunt. The weather’s perfect for those mofos to come out and play.” His eerie eyes gleamed peril, and he flipped the gilded dagger again.

Cautiously, she stepped back.

“The abbey is warded. No one can get inside unless you invite them.” That unsettling stare shifted back to her. “Don’t.”