Falter (41 page)

The angel engulfed me in his bulging arms and dragged me to the ground, trapping my much smaller body beneath his. My hands worked relentlessly, shoving at his shoulders and tugging at his elbows to get some space between us.
 

Arkin growled and grabbed my wrists, forcing them by my side, and then hooked his arms around mine. I wriggled under his weight, wincing at the restricting hold he had around my body. I could barely breathe. My confidence started to waver. He was too strong.

“We all have weak spots, kid,” he assured me. This time he was attempting to help, not intimidate.

The first thing that came to mind was my knee striking his balls, but I couldn’t get my leg loose either. His wing swept past my ear and the rustling sound of his feathers drew my focus. I struggled against his power as I considered the long, feathery limbs twitching above me. They seemed similar to a bird’s, with the main bone of strength running across the top crest. His muscles and nerves were probably intertwined throughout the appendages, controlling their every movement.

I glowered at Arkin, exhausted and panting. His lips curled into a victorious smile, showing no intentions of slowing down or letting up. That pissed me off big time. I gathered what juice I had left and worked to free my arm from his grip. Finally, I wriggled a hand loose, yanking it from under the bend of his elbow. I wrapped my fingers around the soft arch of feathers behind his shoulder and squeezed.

A booming roar escaped his mouth. I jerked my hand away, afraid that I’d really caused him some damage. I didn’t mean to. I thought that was what I was supposed to do. I thought the purpose of the lesson was to defeat him.
 

“Son of a…,” he panted on my neck while curling his big body around me. The grumbling angel rolled off and pushed himself off the ground. “You learn fast,” he said, stumbling to a nearby wall for support and hunching as if I
had
kneed him in the groin.
 

I scrambled to my feet then hurried to his side to examine his limp wing. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” I reached out to palpate the area I’d hurt.

“I’ll be fine.” He batted my hand away and took a few deep breaths. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t. I just figured, if I were an angel, it would be a place of importance.” I moved to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but stopped when his wing cautiously flinched away from my gesture. “Did I do something wrong? Wasn’t I supposed to defend myself?”

He snorted. “Yeah. Just didn’t think you would figure our sweet spot out so soon.” His caramel brown eyes peeked over at me forgivingly. “I’ll be okay. Think my pride’s hurt more than anything. Just wasn’t expectin’ it.” He stretched out of his hunch and flapped his wings, stirring up a gust of wind that fluffed the stray hairs around my face. “Not so bad,” he said, glancing at each massive appendage with satisfaction and then back at me. “It’ll take a lot more than that to take me down, sweet cheeks.” His hand reared back and smacked me on the ass again. “Besides, you pinch like a dame.”

I ignored his incredibly inappropriate action and sexist remark. “So, that’s how to hurt angels?”
 

“Yeah, one of the few ways, but keep it on the down-low.” He leaned in close and placed a finger over my lips, then smirked. “Mm. Soft lips, cupcake.”

I rolled my eyes and swatted his finger.
 

“How do I defend myself from your…graces, is it?” Archard had mentioned something about dampening their graces around me. I assumed that was the mind-blowing need they invoked.

Arkin nodded as he pulled a ragged hand towel from the waistband of his shorts and blotted the sweat from his neck. “Well, we don’t do it on purpose. It’s just part of who we are.” The angel shrugged and turned, leaning his back against the wall while his eyes roamed over the other angels sparring across the room from us. “Human reactions are just a side effect.” He smiled slyly, throwing me a sideways glance. “And not a bad one, I must say. I quite enjoy being adored.”

I pursed my lips and shook my head disapprovingly.
What an arrogant asshole
. “I was told it’s because we want to be linked to God and all that is heavenly so bad, we hunger for it?”

“Yeah, I guess you could put it like that. We symbolize the closeness to The Almighty that most of you were born with but have abandoned along your journey in life. We are a reminder of what you can have in the afterlife.”
 

The buff angel sauntered over to a plastic office chair and snagged a water bottle sitting on the seat. He tilted his head back and squirted the liquid in his mouth like a pro football player, holding it inches from his face. He was cocky even when doing something as simple as taking a drink of water.

“How can I get past the overwhelming craving thing?”
And maybe past my inconvenient bond to Archard.

“I’ll handle this one, Arkin,” a cool, low voice answered. We both turned to see a set of glimmering aqua eyes looking back at us.
 

Surprise, surprise
.
 

“Our bond is the strongest. I should be the one to teach her.” A smirk pulled at a corner of his divine lips, and I became curious about the pride dripping from his words.
 

If he was so proud of our connection, why did he leave me then?
 

“What if I don’t want you to teach me?” I stiffened and crossed my arms over my chest in defiance.
 

“This could get very intense, Nevaeh. Would you rather Arkin see you at your worst, or someone who knows you better than you know yourself?”
 

The callousness I attempted to uphold crumbled like shattered glass. Not because I was afraid of what Arkin would think of me during what I figured would be a very degrading lesson, but because of the concerned pleading buried deep beneath Archard’s expectant stare.
 

“I really don’t think you want to do this with someone you barely know.” My angel quietly advised.

“Wait a minute, bro. If she wants to be tested by my enticing moves, let her. She might enjoy it.” Arkin’s chest puffed up to demonstrate his masculinity. His all-too-famous conceited grin followed close behind.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Archard grumbled. He searched my face for a moment before locking his focus on the pumped up he-man snaking his arm around my waist. His eyes narrowed, measuring Arkin’s gesture.
 

My insides fluttered to life with desire. Pure possessiveness glazed over his hardened features. A dangerous threat clouded his energy.

“You know what? I’m gonna go with him, Arkin.” I smiled apologetically and shimmied out of his grip. He walked backwards, raising his hands in surrender, then joined a group of angels huddled on the far side of the room.
 

As we left the training room, I couldn’t mistake the warmth folding around me. That recurrent energy promising happiness, home, and sweet pleasures captured me inside its bubble. With its heat, my icy facade began to melt away, deeming me helpless against Archard’s charm once again. He really had dampened his graces for me. I had not felt his sweet torture this strong since I asked him to leave me with Gavyn.
 

My heart skipped thinking about the deceived man I deserted at the café. I realized now that I should’ve spoken against Layla. I should’ve set things straight. He would’ve believed me, I’m sure of it. I feared it was too late though. Once trust is damaged, it’s so hard to repair.
 

The heavy guilt and regret hanging on my shoulders lightened when a warm, smooth hand eased into mine. “Are you ready, Nevaeh?”

I nodded and surrendered to his beckoning graces as he led me farther down the hall. We passed one empty office after the next, making our way to the other end of the building; back to the room I woke in upon my arrival here, I assumed.
 

Anticipation fluttered in my stomach. The space between us was pleasantly charged. Delicious heat pulsed from his palm into mine. I inhaled a shaky breath, drawing in the alluring fragrance that was fast becoming my addiction. Each inhalation sprung to mind a new image pertaining to the aromas trailing behind him. At first, the smell of roses, homemade pies, and hugs; later, I smelled honey, bliss, and burning arousal.
 

It was vivid and intoxicating. I could’ve closed my eyes and needed only to follow his scent to know which direction to go. Oh, I was definitely in trouble. If I already wanted to give in to such a low hum of the graces that bound us, what was I going to do when he amped them up?

Archard opened the door to the room I remembered from the day before. He moved to the side and held an arm out, inviting me in. I angled myself sideways with my back pressed against the door jamb and squeezed past him through the sliver of space in the doorway. I absolutely refused to allow any part of me to brush against his hot, solid body, or those silky-soft wings. Being so close to him teased the straining passion inside me enough as it was.
 

Trying to ignore the yearning in my belly, I bit the inside of my cheek and concentrated on something less exciting. The room was simple and impersonal. The mattress and box spring rested on the floor against the north wall, piled high with a white, puffy comforter that mimicked clouds. My eyes skimmed over the small table I’d noticed yesterday, a gray office chair sitting in the corner, and a duffle bag half stuffed with clothes lying on the south wall.
 

Everything was pretty much the same as I remembered—except for one detail. A minor detail with a grand impact. The lighting. No harsh fluorescence buzzed from the ceiling. Instead, dozens of white candles flickered from all over the room. They lined the floors, throwing glowing halos against hard surfaces. It was wonderful. I watched the shadows leap across the walls like dancers in a ballet, completely amazed by the simple beauty of such a small change.
 

In one breath I was feeling warm fuzzies, and the very next I was thrown to my knees. A sudden blast of desire knocked the strength right out of me. This flood of emotion and physical craving caught me off guard and quickly grew to an intensity that dominated every function of my body. I groaned, rocking back and forth on my hands and knees, uncomfortable in my own skin. A hungry seed implanted itself in my heart and took root under my flesh. It was greedy for every last drop of love I could afford, which would never be enough.

Tears poured from my eyes. I kneeled on the floor, thirsting for approval, begging for love and forgiveness to feed the growing hunger within. The love and desire soon morphed into despair and sadness.
 

“What are you doing to me?” I cried.

Light fingertips traced from the crown of my head down to my neck, gently shifting my hair to one side. He lowered behind me and scooted in close. Archard wrapped his arms and legs around me, cocooning me within his grasp. The closer he got, the more I unraveled. “You have to feel the worst of it to comprehend,” silky lips whispered in my ear, and then tenderly kissed my bare neck.

“Comprehend what? Why is this so different from what I normally feel around you? Why is there so much hurt and grief?” I buried my head into the crook of his elbow. My body trembled against his enveloping arms, legs, and chest.

Plush feathers encased us, pulling me tighter into him. “You have to remember your natural hunger for God and all that He is. What you were born with, but have forgotten. You have to experience what it means to be without Him before you can appreciate the gift He’s given you. You need to see what it’s like for Him...being denied your love.”

He nestled his face against my neck and held on relentlessly. “You have to feel what it’s like to be completely severed from His embrace, so that you might understand that He’s been
with
you all along.” Sympathy seeped from his words. His tears trailed down my shoulder as Archard spoke. “So you know that it is
you
who has abandoned
Him
.”

Heart-wrenching sorrow filled me to the brim. Misery and anger swelled in my gut. There were so many emotions that I couldn’t make sense of them all. “What does this have to do with your graces?” I hiccupped between cries, ready for the torture to end.

“The desire for us can’t be overcome until you mend your rightful connection with Him. That can’t be done if you fight Him.” Archard’s voice shook in my ear.

“I’m not fighting Him. I just can’t be who you want me to be.” I sucked in a lungful of air, trying to calm my unsteady breathing.
 

“Nevaeh, you fight Him, you fight yourself, and the goodness that He instilled in you every second that you choose not to take His side, every moment you distance yourself from what you were meant to be.” He groaned harshly against my skin. “You are letting the demon in you run rampant through what you know is right.” The agony emanating from him crushed mine in comparison.

“Why…why do you suffer with me now?” The question barely resonated from my mouth. My ability to think was becoming difficult.
 

“I do not suffer with you, Nevaeh. You are suffering with me. I’m merely letting you feel what I already know and feel every day since I’ve chosen to leave His loving arms for....” His speech slurred then ceased, the misery crippling him.

This was, by far, more destructive than the portals, than the other angels’ graces, and the demons’ threats. Even more shattering than George’s wrongful ending. This was a demonstration of the poison running through my veins. It was humiliation.