Sins of the Angels (36 page)

She shook her head. Silently marveled that one could go so numb that they couldn't feel their own movement anymore. Couldn't even feel their limbs. “I didn't—I never—I didn't know angels had soulmates.”

She hadn't given much credence to the notion where humans were concerned, either, but that was another matter.

“They don't. At least, not anymore. Lucifer's fall wreaked havoc among those who remained loyal, especially when it came to battling their loved ones. The One's solution was to cleanse all recognition of soulmates from her angels.”

“Wasn't that a little harsh?”

Seth regarded her without expression. “Feeling what you do for Aramael, would you be able to fight him? To destroy him?”

Alex's brain wouldn't even let her go there on speculation. “Point taken,” she said softly. “So none of you can love?”

Seth hesitated, and then turned to the window again. “Not the kind of love you're speaking of, no.”

“Then what happened? How is Aramael different?”

“That, Alexandra Jarvis, would be the mystery.”

On the couch, Nina stirred and murmured. Alex watched her settle again, and then glanced at Jen, noting the lines of worry that creased her sister's brow even in repose.

She turned back to Seth. “A minute ago you said something about Guardians—did you mean Guardian angels? They're real, too?”

“For most people, yes. But not for you.” His looked toward the couch and chair. “Or for them.”

“This One of yours really takes her grudges seriously, doesn't she?”

“A Guardian doesn't guarantee a trouble-free existence. Nephilim descendants make their own choices, their own decisions, just as anyone else does. Free will comes at a price for all mortals.”

Nina moved again on the couch and Alex looked over to find the girl's eyes open and staring in their direction. She shivered at the emptiness that occupied the blue depths. Free will might come at a price for all mortals, but what higher price for those like her niece and sister?

Or her?

 

WHERE THE BLOODY
Hell was Caim?

Aramael turned left at a corner and picked up his pace. Nothing. He felt
nothing
. Because he hadn't yet put enough distance between him and Alex? Or because his brother was lying low, biding his time? Perhaps watching Alex even now, as Aramael stalked the streets in search of him.

Disquiet crawled over his skin. It went against every fiber of his being to leave Alex's side like this. To turn her into bait. Because no matter how he tried to convince himself otherwise, that was what he'd done. Because he knew—bloody Hell, they all knew—it was the only way to draw Caim out. He had to leave her, to get far enough away that Caim would go after her, and hope to Heaven he'd get there in time to stop his brother. But no matter how many times Aramael told himself she'd be safe with Seth, that the Appointed would be on high alert, no amount of reassurance made it easier to entrust her life—and his very soul—to the care of another.

Because if Caim were to somehow get to her in spite of the precautions . . .

He shook off the very graphic scenarios his recently formed imagination saw fit to provide. The muscles across his shoulders knotted, causing the feathers along his wings to ruffle. He stopped in an office building doorway.
Focus, damn it. The only way you'll keep her safe is to get to Caim before he gets to her, and you're not going to do that by standing on a sidewalk whining about how hard it is. You know your purpose, Power. Now find it. Use it. End this game.

With every ounce of self-control he possessed, he turned himself inward. Stilled his thoughts. Fought to rediscover what had once been so natural for him, what had
been
him. Waited for the tremor in his own energy that would signal Caim's presence. Seconds edged by.

Nothing.

He straightened his spine and flexed his wings, and then tried again, straining to feel the slightest hint, the faintest vibration. Frustration twitched in his core, eating at his concentration and his confidence.

What if he didn't find him in time?

What if—?

Aramael slammed his fist against the wall beside him, shattering a brick in its mortar setting. One last effort. A desperate push past the limits he'd once thought he had—

And still nothing. He couldn't feel a damned thing.

Except the woman who depended on him to make this right.

To protect her.

 

ALEX JOLTED AWAKE
to the soft chiming of the mantel clock. Six chords, marking the start of a new day, confirmed by the sunlight streaming in through the living room window. The window beside which Seth still stood, still stared out. Alex straightened protesting knees from under her and struggled into a more comfortable position. Her gaze fell on the deserted couch and chair opposite.

Before she'd had time to even process the fact that Jen and Nina were missing, let alone panic about it, Seth's low rumble reached across the room to her. “They're fine. They moved up to your room about three hours ago.”

Alex stood up stiffly, catching the blanket as it fell from her lap. She stared at it. She was sure she hadn't covered herself. She hadn't even intended to fall asleep—she looked across at Seth. “Thank you.”

He shrugged.

“Has Aramael been back at all?” She laid the blanket across the chair arm.

“Not yet.” He smiled a faint reassurance. “He's a Power, Alex. Caim may have been his equal at one time, but not now. Not since he fell almost five thousand years ago.”

“But what if he's caught by surprise? He said himself he can't feel Caim, said there are . . .”

“Complications. Yes, I know, but trust me, Caim won't be going after Aramael. He doesn't have the courage to precipitate an all-out war.”

“A what?”

But Seth's face had closed over as soon as the words left his mouth. “Nothing. Forget I said that.”

Like hell she would. Alex moved to join him. “War between whom?”

“I said forget it.”

“I'm not very good at that, so you may as well just tell me now and save us both a lot of trouble.”

“There are some things you really are better off not knowing, Alexandra Jarvis.”

She frowned. “Why do you do that? Call me Alexandra Jarvis all the time?”

Mild annoyance entered Seth's expression. “You ask a lot of questions, don't you?”

“It's my job to ask questions. And that's not an answer.”

He turned his head from her and stared through the window. “You're not what I expected. As a mortal, I mean. I'm surprised at how engaging you are, and how much I find myself drawn to you. The formality of your full name reminds me to maintain distance.”

Oh.
Alex felt her cheeks heat at the unexpected and, in her experience, unprecedented honesty. The awkwardness of their shared touch on the sidewalk at the mission returned tenfold, and she shuffled her feet. “Um . . .”

Seth slanted her a sideways look that was half amused and half way-too-serious for her taste. “Relax. I'm in no better position than Aramael to pursue a relationship with a mortal.”

She pulled away from the wall. Now, there was a path she didn't want to travel, she thought. Not from the perspective of Seth's blatant declaration of interest, and sure as hell not from the perspective of any potential relationship with Aramael—or lack thereof.

She shifted her posture, trying to ease the knifelike pain that had slid between her ribs and into her heart. Coffee. She'd make coffee, take some time to herself in the kitchen—

A crash overhead reverberated through the living room. Alex froze for an instant and then met Seth's startled look.

“Nina,” she whispered. “Jen.”

Alex, wait!”

Alex took the stairs two at a time. Seth's bellow—and his footsteps—followed. She yanked her gun free of the holster she'd scooped up from the coffee table and tossed the holster aside. Gaining the top, she skidded to a halt in front of Jen, emerging bleary-eyed but seemingly unscathed from the bathroom. “Are you all right?”

Jen blinked at her, and then at Seth. “I'm fine. What's going on?”

“We heard a crash—”

“Oh, that. I owe you a new soap dispenser.” Jen pulled a face. “I picked up the pieces, but there's soap everywhere.”

Alex sagged against the wall. It wasn't Caim. Nothing mattered except that. She waved away her sister's apology. “Don't worry about it. I just thought—we thought—”

Jen's swallow was audible in the silence of Alex's inability to finish the sentence. Then she forced a sad caricature of a smile. “Nope, just clumsy me. I'll finish cleaning up. Excuse me.”

She disappeared back into the bathroom and closed the door, and Seth's hand instantly seized Alex's shoulder, dragging her around to face him.

“
Never
do that again,” he hissed, shaking her none too gently. “Not even I can protect you if you run right into Caim's arms, and that”—he fixed an angry look on the gun in her hand—“is useless against him. Do you understand?”

Alex's heart skipped a beat. What did he mean, he couldn't protect her? Seth gave her a little shake, as if he'd read her thoughts.

“As long as he doesn't get hold of you, I can put myself between you long enough for Aramael to return.”

“And if he does get hold of me? Can you not stop him then?”

Seth's face turned grim. “Only a Power can remove him to Limbo. But . . .”

Swallowing had never been so difficult. “But what?”

“Alex, if Caim gets hold of you, Aramael could well lose control. He might not be able to stop himself from killing Caim, and if that happens . . .” His voice trailed off again and his fingers tightened on her shoulder. “If that happens, it will break the peace between Heaven and Hell.”

She shivered and moistened dry lips. “That's the war you mentioned?”

“Mortals call it the Apocalypse.”

Alex stared into the black, bottomless eyes and felt something deep inside her turn utterly still as Seth's words settled into her core.
The Apocalypse.
An angel's soul had become entangled with hers and he had sworn to protect her against all odds, against all rules, and if she allowed him to do so, the world would face the end of days? She shook her head in silent, sick denial and Seth's hand on her arm gave a gentle squeeze in response.

“We won't let it get that far,” he said. “I promise.”

Jen came out of the bathroom again, wiping her hands against the seat of her jeans. “I got the worst of it, but watch your step if you go in there. It's still a bit slippery.” Her gaze darted between them. “Am I interrupting something?”

Alex felt Seth's hand slide away. She looked away from her sister's too-perceptive stare and, with the automatic movements of the robot she felt she'd become, tucked the gun into the waistband in the small of her back. Dredged up the ability to speak again, to pretend the rest of her reality hadn't just shattered at her feet.

“No,” she answered Jen. “You're not interrupting. I'm going to make coffee. You interested?”

“Lord, yes. I'm just going to grab a shower first. I'll be down in a few minutes.”

Alex hesitated. She eyed a still seething Seth, who had just so forcefully underscored her sense of vulnerability. Seeming to understand her thoughts, he gave a slight shake of his head. She turned back to her sister. “Actually, Jen, I think we should stay together.”

“But we are together.”

“In the same room together.”

“Isn't that just a little paranoid? We'll hear if anyone tries to get into the house—”

“It's not paranoia.” Alex suppressed a surge of impatience, reminding herself that Jen hadn't seen what she'd seen. Knew only a fraction of what she knew.

“That might be too late,” she told her sister. “We stay together. We'll bring Nina back downstairs with us.”

Jen looked as if she might object further, but then she sighed. “Fine. Can I at least have a clean T-shirt first?”

“Third drawer in the dresser.”

Alex waited until her sister stepped into the bedroom and closed the door again, and then she faced Seth. Chewing at the inside of her bottom lip, she reached back to adjust the gun resting against her spine. “Do you really think he'll try anything? He must know you're here.”

“I'm sure he knows. But that doesn't mean he cares.”

“He's that desperate?”

“Yes. And that determined.”

The murmur of Jen's voice came from the bedroom. Good. She was waking Nina, which would make it easier to move her. Downstairs, the mantel clock chimed quarter past the hour. Fifteen minutes since Alex had woken up; four hours since Aramael had left her in the kitchen. How much longer—?

“I'll go help Jennifer,” she said.

Leaving Seth leaning against the wall, hands in pockets and ankles crossed, Alex pushed open the bedroom door. Jen looked around at her entrance, T-shirt in hand.

“You should have told me your friend was back. Surely with all of us here it's safe for me to take that shower.”

Alex paused in the doorway, hand resting on the knob, eyes adjusting to the semigloom created by the drawn blinds at the windows. “What?”

“Your friend.” Jen nodded toward the bed. “He says he'll watch Nina for me.”