Judgment (The Alternate Earth Series, Book 3) (5 page)

“Why are the flames blue?” I ask Mason.

From the confused expression on Mason’s face, I already know how he will answer my question.

“I have no idea,” he admits, staring at the sword. “But at least it’s here. I wasn’t sure it would be.”

As we walk up to the tree, I ask Mason, “So, what do I do? Just pull it out?”

“That’s all you had to do on our world,” Mason says. “I’m assuming the same rules apply here.”

I don’t want to admit it to Mason, but I’m a little hesitant to even touch the sword. What if I can’t pull it out? Will that diminish me in his eyes in some way? It seems like a sword made for an angel, not someone as inconsequential as me. Yet, I
do
have an Archangel living inside me somewhere. From what the others told me earlier, my soul is tethered to Michael’s permanently. I apparently volunteered to be his vessel, even before I was born. I knew he had to be the inner voice I kept sensing, nudging me this way and that. Maybe I needed my memories back to restore my connection to him. That’s basically all anyone is really, a collection of memories and experiences. I’m practically a clean slate.

There would be no way for me to pick and choose between the memories I wanted and the ones I wanted to leave behind. In the end, why would I want to forget the hardships I’ve endured? They helped shape a woman who survived them all and is loved by many. I want to know myself again. I need to know the story of my life.

I look over at Mason, and feel an intense yearning to remember what our first kiss was like. What happened at our wedding? Was he with me when our children were born? What did their first cries sound like?

I turn towards the tree and approach it. My heart races into my throat as I reach for the hilt of the sword and gently pull. With little effort, I draw the sword out of the Tree of Life and hold it up in front of my eyes, marveling at how natural it feels in my hand.

“Thank God,” I hear Mason say behind me in relief.

I face him, holding the sword out by my side. The flames extinguish, but only because I wanted them to. I can’t help but smile at the thought that Ravan couldn’t make the sword she stole from me ignite. I seriously doubt she’ll ever be able to make it flame. It wasn’t made for her. It was made for me.

“Now what?” I ask, walking back to Mason’s side.

“I would really like to test you to see if your body remembers how to use a sword.”

“My body?”

“Fighting mostly depends on muscle memory,” Mason explains. “You and I have sparred a lot over the years, to make your movements second-nature to you. You don’t even have to think about what you need to do now, because your body already knows how to counter almost any attack.”

“Then let’s test your theory,” I say, looking around for something Mason can use as a weapon.

A limb spontaneously falls from the Tree of Life, which strikes me as odd.

“Is it just me, or did you find that a weird coincidence, too?” I ask Mason.

Mason bends down and picks up the limb. It’s exactly the right length and width for him to use as a pretend sword.

“I suspect it was my Father lending us a small hand.”

I look up at the sky, but only see puffy white clouds and a few dragons.

“So He’s watching us? Like, now?”

“Always,” Mason confirms. “There’s nothing you can hide from Him.”

“Really?” I ask, finding that notion a bit disconcerting. “Surely He turns a blind eye…you know…in
private
moments.”

“Like when we make love, you mean?” Mason asks with a roguish grin and raised eyebrows. “Well if He doesn’t, I hope He appreciates my stamina in such moments.”

“Oh, really?” I laugh nervously. I can’t help but sound intrigued by this new piece of information. “Just how much stamina do you have? Are we talking minutes, hours, or days?”

Mason’s smile widens as he proudly announces, “Weeks.”

“
Weeks
?” I can’t help but feel impressed. “How was I able to walk after that much sex?”

“You didn’t need to walk,” Mason tells me. “You had a willing slave at your beck and call. Besides, you were lying down most of the time.”

“Hmm…”

Mason tilts his head at me. “Hmm, what? Why did that sound like you were disappointed in what I just said?”

I shrug my shoulders. “For some reason, I thought we would be the type of couple who has more adventurous sex.”

Mason begins to chuckle and smiles brightly. “Oh, we are. But even we need to rest every once in a while. Don’t forget, you’re human, Jess. Your body needs rest.”

“Apparently, not much…”

“No.” Mason winks at me. “Not much at all actually.”

I raise my sword, and assume a fighting stance without having to give it much thought.

“Ready?” I challenge.

Mason holds his tree limb out and assumes a similar position.

“Whenever you are,” he says, looking excited by the prospect of fighting me.

Now that I see him standing there with only a piece of wood in his hand, I have to ask, “Won’t this sword just cut right through that limb?”

“It’s from the Tree of Life. Honestly, it’s probably just as hard as, or even harder than, your sword. That’s why I said my Father must have given it to us. Only He could have made it drop from the tree.”

I take a deep breath and try to clear my mind completely. If muscle memory is what I need to rely on, I know I’ll need to fight Mason without overthinking it.

My first swing meets Mason’s improvised sword with a resounding clash.

Without thinking, I take the offensive and push forward, making Mason give up ground and take a few steps back. I feel an intense adrenaline rush as my movements become more sure, like I’ve been through this dance a thousand times before with Mason.

I probably have. I just don’t remember it; but my muscles definitely do. It seems my body remembers quite a lot where Mason is concerned. As I watch the way he moves his body as he fights against me, I can’t help but imagine the things we’ve done to and for one another, both physically and emotionally. Just being around him makes me feel more centered and in control of myself. I know I can tell him anything, even my darkest thoughts, and he wouldn’t think any less of me for them.

I end up making the mistake of imagining Mason completely naked. I’m not sure if the image that pops up in my mind is real or a fantasy. Either way, it distracts me, and I end up failing to block one of his swings. Before I know it, I’m lying flat on my back, wondering if the stars I’m seeing are real or not.

“Jess!” Mason yells, dropping to his knees beside me and bracing himself with his hands as he leans over me to look into my eyes. “I’m so sorry. I thought you would block me, or I never would have swung that hard. Are you ok? Did I hurt you?”

I have to close my eyes and take a few deep breaths to make my head stop spinning.

“I’m ok,” I tell him to assuage his worry. “Just give me a minute.”

When I open my eyes again, I scream…

CHAPTER FIVE

Situated in the small space between my face and Mason’s is the head of a curly- black-haired stranger. His face is so close to mine, our noses are practically touching. Though, strangely enough, I don’t feel his breath on my skin.

“Who the hell are you?” I scream at him.

The man mouths something, but I can’t audibly hear the words he says.

“Jess, are you seeing Michael?” Mason asks hopefully.

“Don’t you see him?” I yell. “He’s right there!”

Michael vanishes and reappears to the right of me, standing slightly off to the side, as if to give me some breathing room. It’s only then that I remember the other vessels telling me that only we could see the mental projections of our Archangels. Of course Mason couldn’t see Michael, he was a figment of my own imagination.

Michael mouths two words to me, and I pay attention to the movement of his lips this time.

“It’s ok,” I tell him, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. “You don’t have to be sorry. You just startled me, is all.”

I try to sit up, but quickly become woozy again. Mason’s quick reflexes keep me from falling back to the ground; he catches me by the shoulders to steady me.

“Thanks,” I tell him, lifting a hand to my forehead to help ease the ache there. I look back over at Michael and see him talking, but I still can’t hear a word he’s saying.

“I can’t hear you,” I inform him.

Michael looks confused by my statement, but seems to accept it as truth without any further explanation.

I look at Mason. “Why can I see him but not hear him?”

Mason shakes his head. “I’m not sure, but it doesn’t matter; this is good news, Jess! Maybe some of your memories are slowly starting to come back. Can you remember anything?”

I sit there and think as hard as I can, but can’t seem to remember anything new.

“No,” I tell Mason regretfully. “Nothing.”

Mason sighs in disappointment, a sound I hate to hear.

“Help me stand up,” I request.

Without question, he helps me to my feet.

“Ok, I have an idea. You might think I’m crazy, but hear me out,” I tell both Mason and Michael, who is now looking at me worriedly. Possibly because he already knows what I’m about to say if he can read my mind.

At my thinking that, Michael nods his head, confirming that he is privy to my inner thoughts. He begins to shake his head vigorously at me and makes a series of crossing motions with his hands and arms, telling me not to go through with what I want to do.

“If you have a better suggestion, find a way to tell me,” I say to him irritably before turning back to Mason. “I want you to do something that you’re probably not going to like very much.”

“What?” Mason asks cautiously.

I spread my feet apart and plant them firmly on the ground. I wave my hands in the air as if egging Mason on for a fight.

“Hit me,” I tell him.

“Uh, did… you just ask me to hit you?” Mason asks, positive he must have heard me wrong.

“Yes,” I confirm, “hit me in the head again. Maybe it’ll jar some more memories loose. I sort of have Michael back now. Maybe I just need one more good hit in the head to get everything back.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Michael bury his face in both of his hands, like I’m a hopeless cause.

“I am not going to hit you, Jess!” Mason protests. “Don’t ask again, because it’s not going to happen!”

“Do you have a better idea?” I question, knowing that he doesn’t.

“Well…no….but damaging your brain even more
isn’t
the answer.”

Michael throws his hands in the air towards Mason and mouths the words, “Thank you.”

I growl in frustration at both of them. “Then one of you needs to come up with a better plan, because I can’t walk around with Michael the Mime for the rest of my life.”

“Ok, ok, let me think…” Mason’s brow furrows as he enters into deep thought.

I look over at Michael, and see him begin to pace back and forth as he tries to come up with a plan of his own.

I wait. I wait a little more. I become impatient with waiting, and then I become openly irritated.

“Anything?” I ask, exceedingly agitated by this point.

“I’m coming up with nothing,” Mason apologizes. “What about Michael?”

I look over at Michael again and see that he’s still pacing back and forth, not paying Mason or me any mind.

“Nothing on that front either,” I sigh disappointedly.

“Well, this might not help you get your memory back,” Mason says, “but what if we just walk around and try to enjoy the rest of the time we have here? Maybe if you just relax, it will help.”

“I guess that’s something to try.” I can’t help but sound as disheartened as I feel.

“We’ll figure it out, Jess,” Mason promises, making me want to believe him. “Now that you have access to Michael, maybe he can think of something that we haven’t.”

I look over at Michael and see him nodding his head at me, as if he’s agreeing with Mason. He taps the side of his temples with an index finger and continues to nod.

“He seems to be thinking about it,” I say, wondering if I’ll have to live the rest of my life with Michael acting out his thoughts to me.

Mason grabs my sword off the ground and takes my hand.

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s see what paradise has to offer us.”

Surprisingly, the beauty of Eden begins to fade into the background of my mind. As we walk, Mason begins to tell me more about our children and life back on our Earth. He tells me about my mother, Mama Lynn, and my sister, Faison. He tells a story of our time as husband and wife, which seems almost too perfect.

“Don’t we ever argue?” I have to ask.

“Not often,” he tells me, “but when we do it gets pretty heated.”

“What kind of things do we fight about?”

“Mostly me getting upset if I think you’re placing your life in unnecessary danger.”

“Do I do that a lot?”

“More than I like.”

“Do we ever go to bed angry?”

Mason grins. “No. We always come to an agreement by then.”

“And do you ever win an argument?”

“You let me think I do sometimes.”

I have to laugh. “I must be a pretty good wife then.”

“The best.”

Mason and I stumble across a small aqua-colored lagoon with a cascading waterfall. It’s very tropical-looking with greener-than-green palm trees and a small sandy white beach.

“This spot is a lot like a place we go to near our Bahaman home,” he tells me before planting my new sword in the ground and kneeling down to glide his hand through the water. “Just the right temperature for a swim. Are you up for one?”

“Do I know how to swim?” I honestly don’t know, so I have to ask.

“Yes,” Mason answers as he stands back up and begins to remove his black t-shirt. “You are a very good swimmer.”

I become speechless as Mason tosses his shirt to the ground and begins to remove his shoes. When he reaches for the button on his jeans, I quickly shade my eyes with one hand.

“You’re not going commando under those, are you?” I ask like an idiot, feeling shy all of a sudden by Mason’s half-nakedness, which seems to be heading towards full-on naked.

“Do you want me to be?”

I peek at Mason over my hand to see that he’s silently chuckling at me.

“I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that it might incriminate me.”

I slowly hide my eyes again, and hear Mason laugh aloud just as I also hear the zipper of his pants being drawn down. Not long after, I hear a loud splash and deem the area safe from a naked Mason. I slowly drop my hand and look over into the water. I see Mason swiftly emerge from beneath the smooth, glassy surface of water like a god out of Greek mythology.

Mason paddles in the water, looking at me with a come-hither grin and bedroom eyes. He says, “Take those clothes off and come in here with me. I promise I won’t bite…much.”

I shake my head at him in exasperation. “Are you always like this?”

“Horny?”

I laugh nervously. “I was thinking flirtatious.”

“Only with you,” he tells me, and I know deep down that it’s the God’s honest truth.

I cross my arms over my chest, unsure I’m ready to jump in the water with a naked Mason so soon. It can only lead to one thing, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that type of intimacy just yet.

Mason must realize where my thoughts are going, because the desire in his eyes fades a bit.

“Seriously, come on in, Jess. I’m still wearing underwear. I just want you to enjoy yourself here. I don’t expect anything from you except your friendship. Above anything else, you’re my best friend, and I enjoy doing things like this with you. I’ll keep my distance for as long as you need. I’ve done it before. I can do it again. Come on,” he says teasingly, crooking an index finger at me. “You know you want to feel this water against your skin.”

“Why? What does it feel like?” I already know the grass feels like velvet to the touch. I can only imagine what the water feels like.

“Only one way to find out.” Mason dives back into the water, cutting off our question and answer session.

I quickly strip down to my bra and panties, unwilling to disrobe completely. Sure, Mason’s seen me naked, but I have no memory of that. In a way, this feels a lot like a first date to me, and I’m pretty sure I’m
not
the kind of girl who goes all the way on a first date.

As I lay my leather pants down on the ground, I happen to notice a few stretch marks across my stomach, and instantly feel self-conscious about them. I run my fingers across the white trails they make.

I hear Mason step from the water, making me look up at him.

“I love those scars,” he tells me in all sincerity as he comes up and takes the hand I’m using to hide the marks away from my belly.

Lovingly, he looks down at them, and uses an index finger to follow one from my belly button to the top of my panties.

“That one you got while you were pregnant with Max,” he tells me, giving a history to the marks on my body. “And that one,” he says, sliding his finger over to a second scar and following it across to my hip bone, “you got when you carried Brynlee.”

“Why would you like them?” I have to ask, thinking them ugly.

“I
love
them,” he corrects, “because they’re proof of how strong you are and how much you can endure. I love them because they’re proof that you’re the mother of my children. I love them because they’re a part of you, Jess.”

As I stand there looking into the eyes of the man I love, I can’t prevent what happens next. In full control of my own actions, I rise up on my toes and loop my arms around Mason’s neck. He doesn’t say a word or move a muscle. He allows me to be in total control of the situation, which makes me love him even more.

I hesitate before meeting his lips with mine, but only because I know there’s no going back after this. Once I take this step forward, I’m committing myself to Mason. And you know what? I have absolutely no problem with that.

When I press my lips to his, I feel his hands go around my back to pull me fully up against his wet body. I hear him moan with pleasure as I tease his lips apart with my tongue and find his to make our kiss more intimate. The warmth of his mouth and the sweet taste of him against my tongue fill my heart with joy and a sense of being exactly where I’m supposed to be.

I hear a loud thud come from directly behind me.

Mason breaks our kiss after also hearing the sound, and stares at whatever it is that just joined us.

“Don’t make any sudden movements,” he whispers to me. “We don’t want to frighten it.”

“It?” I quickly think through the creatures I’ve seen in Eden and which one could have made such a loud noise. “Is it a dragon?”

Mason slowly nods his head. “It won’t harm you, but it might fly away if you make any sudden moves or speak too loudly.”

“Ok,” I whisper, slowly moving my arms from around Mason’s neck and lowering the heels of my feet to the ground.

“Turn around slowly so you can see it.”

I do as told, and feel myself smile like an excited child as I take my very first, close-up look at a real dragon.

“It’s beautiful,” I tell Mason as I study the sapphire-blue dragon with emerald-green eyes and ebony slits in the center. The dragon stares at me like I’m the curiosity here, not him.

“What should we do?” I ask Mason.

“Do you still want to ride one?”

“Seriously!”

The dragon snorts, like it didn’t appreciate my sudden outburst.

“Sorry,” I whisper to the dragon.

“It can’t understand you, Jess,” Mason informs me, sounding amused.

“It probably understands the gesture,” I reason.

I see Michael appear next to the dragon. He starts pointing at it, as if urging me to take my joyride.