Falter (40 page)

“Brace yourself. They are not as subdued as I.” He tugged down on the handle and pushed.

“Subdued?” My brow wrinkled as I looked up at Archard, confused, and slipped past him to enter the room beyond.
 

I was instantly compelled to weep at their magnificence.
 

My eyes perused over all fifteen of them, following every graceful movement. Some swooped through the room, some hovered above the ground, and others battled each other on the floor. They communicated in a heavenly language that sounded like orchestral harmony, each note weaving and overlapping another with unidentifiable precision. I’d never seen or heard anything so unearthly beautiful.
 

Every single being had their own uniquely decorated wings. Different hues of white lay soft against contrasting rainbows of colored tips. Glints of gold, silver, and coppery metals peeked through the whites, catching the light just right—like stars twinkling across the large room.
 

They weren’t all men, but they were all ridiculously strong and agile. They fought one another, anticipating their battle partner’s movements as if they had watched them do it a thousand times before. It was a
dance
of war, rather than the act of it.

My emotions betrayed me. Tears wet my cheeks, not because I was upset, but because the yearning was too great. The need to worship these creatures surpassed any other need. I wanted to love them, to do their bidding, and to surrender myself to each and every one of them.
 

I peered up at Archard and tried to ask for freedom from this overwhelming effect, but I couldn’t speak. My skin tightened and puckered, my bra and panties becoming uncomfortably restricting.

Unable to fend off the urges any longer, my wobbly legs gave out, and I dropped to the ground. I crawled slowly across the dirty, cement floor, tugging at my abrasive clothes. I needed to show them what I had to offer, give them every bit of me I could.

I needed them to fix me. Love me. Want me. Bless me.
 

Archard belted a fragment of their language out from behind me somewhere. It sounded urgent, but I was too fixated on the angels in front of me to be concerned. I continued on my path and felt the cool air chill my skin when I finally broke free from the scratchy fabric of my shirt. The sensation made me ache for them even more. I wondered how tender and warm their touch would be against my hungry body.

When Archard finished speaking, there was a disruption in the atmosphere. All the angels turned toward us and stilled. Surprised expressions furrowed their glorious faces as they watched me slink across the floor like a cat in heat.
 

The vague sound of Archard’s heavy steps pounded closer to me. I was suddenly lifted upright by the back of my pants, my belt cutting into my stomach as he jerked me to a stop. I looked back at him with wide eyes, not understanding his actions until he flung my shirt across my chest. The sneer on his face sobered my lustful drunkenness. I clung to the fabric draped over my breasts, embarrassed. I was very much aware of myself again as the intense desire subsided somewhat.
 

“I told you to brace yourself,” Archard said angrily through gritted teeth.

The allure of the others retracted enough that I felt the comfortable heat of Archard’s energy calling me back to him. “You didn’t tell me what the hell I was up against.” My cheeks flushed with shame and irritation as I hurriedly pulled my shirt back over my head. What did he think was going to happen? It’s like throwing a hungry wolf into a flock of sheep and expecting it not to eat.

As curious faces stared at us—all of them smirking at the scene of Archard and me arguing—I realized that they were the wolves, and I was the lone lamb. Unfortunately, their collective pull had only stopped at a dull throb instead of continuing to fade completely away. I could handle that without taking my panties off, though.

“Nevaeh, these are my brothers and sisters. They are Earthbound as I am.” With his temper slowly calming, he placed his hand at the small of my back and gently pushed me forward.
 

“So you
are
fallen?” I asked, remembering what Malach had said about some of them taking a leave of absence.

“No.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “Not fallen, that would be those in Hell. We are bound to Earth because we’ve chosen to detach ourselves for the time being.”
 

I shouted that lingering question in my mind, hoping he could hear me as I’d heard him before.
 

A
re you my Guardian
?
 

I felt the answer in my gut, but I needed validation.

No response crossed his lips, only a knowing gaze from his aqua eyes. He knew what I wanted to know. He just didn’t want to answer.
 

“You must be The Clavis,” a deep voice accused from the crowd of angels approaching us. The words rang harshly in my ears as I searched for the one who’d asked.
 

“No.” The single defining word left my mouth before I knew it, and to my surprise it felt wrong. In my heart, I knew there was a nagging hope imploring that I say yes. But in the reality of things, how could someone with so little faith—in anything—carry such an important title? I refused to take claim of something that I may not be—may not want to be, for that matter. How could these beings have so much belief in someone who has so little?
 

“Yes,” Archard corrected. “This is Nevaeh.” He stood tall and stately beside me. Something was different about the vibe he put off, like he was sending a silent message to the others, requiring every bit of their attention and respect.
 

The energy he emitted was intimidating. I leaned away from him, barely enough for anyone to notice. Yet, he did. His disapproving eyes darted to me, lips in a thin, tight line. I marveled at the suddenly rigid stance of his body, all flexed muscle and fevered warning. His normally graceful wings stiffened, twitching in anticipation.
 

Archard saw me taking note of his posture and relaxed, but only a fraction. His gaze returned to the other angels. “She will be staying here. We need to instruct her.”

“Wait! What?” I couldn’t believe it. He was holding me hostage?

He didn’t acknowledge my surprised reaction. “We will need to show her how to defend herself against them…and us.” His eyes roamed the crowd of heavenly creatures and waited for arguments. No one spoke up, not even those with disapproving scowls.

I grabbed his arm, demanding his focus. “No. I never said I would stay with you. I want to go home. You can’t keep me here.”

Archard’s fingers wrapped around my wrist and detached my hand from his forearm. He glowered down at me with a clear warning in his eyes as he spoke. “Seems to me, you don’t have a home. And you obviously can’t keep control of your wits.” His words stung my pride.

“I can control myself just fine,” I retorted, knowing that I couldn’t. “Who do you think you are, anyway?” I poked a finger into his chest. “You don’t seem like you want to help me, and I can take care—“

He grabbed the backside of my upper arm and yanked me closer, taking control of my temper-tantrum. “Dammit, girl. I
am
your Guardian.” The admission erupted from his mouth.
 

My world stopped. Silence filled the air. I couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, we were the only two in the gigantic room. The angels, and the enormous elephant, had all disappeared with that one phrase.

I knew the answer the whole time, but to hear him say it resulted in a very different reaction than I’d expected. My heart throbbed. His betrayal punched me in the gut. Rage climbed up the length of my body, begging to let loose.
 

He
left my soul up for grabs.
 

“How could you?” I whispered, pulling my arm from his grip.

A glint of regret shined in his eyes. He looked back to the other angels and completely ignored me…again. All I could do was stare at the angel that abandoned me. He left my soul to be chased and influenced by all manner of otherworldly things.
 

“As I said, she will stay with me. While she is here, you all are to dampen your graces. She can’t handle the intensity, yet.”
 

“I thought The Clavis was half Celatum and half Demon. You’d think she could handle anything with that mix.” A low rumble of chuckles broke out from the crowd. They were laughing at my weakness.
 

Go ahead. Stoke the fire, assholes.

Archard reluctantly responded with, “She has not yet chosen. Her powers are not fully developed.” I could tell the statements were uncomfortable for him to admit. “We will have to keep her safe for now.” His deceitfully handsome face turned to me and waited for an objection while begging me not to.
 

At that point, I was way too stunned to come up with any sarcastic responses that might relay my absolute unwillingness to obey him.
 

“We will begin practice tomorrow morning at sunrise,” he said, returning his focus to the crowd.

The other angels nodded, accepting their orders. They followed him without question. No wonder he ignored confrontation. He wasn’t used to someone challenging his authority.

Archard relaxed his stance and turned to walk away. The other angels muttered amongst each other and resumed their prior activities. Still in shock, I held my place and watched as my angel left.
 

Even though I was totally enraged, I still couldn’t deny the attraction that held me to him. I figured the fact that he’s my Guardian would explain why I felt so differently towards him in comparison to other angels.
 

When he reached the door, he pushed on the handle, stopping mid-movement. “Are you coming?” he asked without looking back at me. Not waiting for my answer, he marched out of the room, letting the door slam hard behind him.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Teach Me A Lesson

I spent the rest of the night following Archard around in silence and learning the location of the factory’s basic amenities. There wasn’t much outside of some makeshift cots inside small offices, an employee bathroom with a tiny shower stall, and a small lounge void of any food.
 

I’d given Archard as much third degree attitude as I could dish. I wasn’t in the mood to find answers now. Maybe after a couple of days, I
might
forgive him enough to initiate some kind of interrogation. Until then, I decided to play along with his plan in order to survive while I figured out my next move. I would make damn sure he knew I was as mad as a hornet though.
 

The cafe wasn’t even an option. Too much had happened, and I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing Gavyn any time soon. No matter. I’d find somewhere to go. George taught me how to fend for myself, and I would do just that.

Today, I kept straying to the dream I had while conked out after we left Layla’s. I shuddered to think that it was a link to my dead mother. The vision didn’t offer any recognizable details that could help me identify the phantom as my mom. No precious clips of her combing my hair while she hummed me a song, or tickling me under a big fluffy blanket. Instead, it was a whirlwind of chaos and pain. The voice was vaguely familiar but far too morphed to say it was her for sure. Even if it
was
my mother, I was clueless about what she was trying to show me.
 

“Okay, your turn, cupcake.” A ridiculously deep, angelic baritone, and his swift pat on my ass, quickly jerked me back to reality.
 

I spun and glared at Arkin. He was quite playful; more playful than I was in the mood for. Keeping my temper in check, I dismissed his childish gesture and settled into position on the center wrestling-mat.
 

Their training area was efficiently arranged. Large mats, weights, and an arsenal of unusual weaponry pinned along the factory wall filled the room. No guns or modern tools for these guys; they preferred mostly medieval looking objects like sais, katars, and flails.

“Hope you were paying attention.” Arkin smirked as he circled the edge of the mat, eyeing me like prey. I made a mental note to listen closer when the angels were teaching before my attention honed onto the bare-chested, rippling body that was moving toward me in a predatory stance.

Sweat dripped from the wavy, copper hair that brushed his broad shoulders. His massive thighs flexed beneath blue jersey shorts as he continued to dance around me. My eyes traced the milky white, indigo-tipped wings stretching along either side of Arkin’s fierce frame and then landed on his steady gaze.

“This is hardly fair,” I griped. This was going to hurt.

“Who said it would be, kitten?” A shit-eating grin graced his gorgeous face. All his ripples contracted.
 

I recognized the sign to brace myself for a nasty blow, but as I watched the huge mass of angel barreling towards me at excessive speed, I wanted to charge him instead of bow down to him. My legs pushed forward before I knew what was happening and my feet pounded against the mat. He was the target at the end of my tunnel vision.
 

I smashed into his rigid torso, wrapping my arms around his waist. Sharp pains jabbed through my chest. Hitting Arkin was like smacking into concrete.