Heven & Hell Anthology (Heven and Hell) (16 page)

I nodded, chewing my lip as I watched him, wondering what he saw that I clearly did not. I gave up trying and took a seat nearby on a fallen tree. A few long moments went by and then suddenly Sinead’s head whipped up and he spun toward me.

“Get out of here!” he said urgently.

I scrambled to my feet. “What is it?”

“The hound—it’s nearby.”

“I can help you,” I argued, looking around, but it was nowhere in sight.

“Go, you’ll only distract me. I’ll find you when it’s dead.”

I used my wings to carry me just slightly into the air, about seven feet off the ground, and took off in the direction that Sinead signaled I go. He must have some kind of sense to tell him which direction the beast was coming from. I didn’t dare go any higher in the air for fear that something on the ground would see me.

When I came close to the ridge of the hill, I lowered my feet to the ground and stopped. I listened for long moments, wondering about my friend but hearing no signs of a battle or even a scuffle. Sinead was a Guardian; this was his job. I had every confidence he could take care of himself so my worrying would be for nothing.

The urge to go look over, down toward the water, was very strong. It wasn’t because of the stream, though. It was because of
him
. I knew he wouldn’t be here. The fact that he had the last time was only a fluke. I went over to the ledge anyway, veiling my wings as a precaution, and peered down into the ravine.

He wasn’t there.

No one was there and so I stepped off the edge and floated down, my feet landing on a rock that the active stream splashed up over. I smiled when the icy droplets hit my toes. I knelt down, letting my fingertips trail in the water.

“Where are you rushing off to today?” I asked. Of course it didn’t answer, but a small swell of water lapped up over my palm and I smiled.

A branch snapped on the other side of the stream and I looked up sharply, half expecting to see a snarling black monster with red eyes.

It wasn’t a monster.

He was standing just inside the trees, wearing the same pair of jeans from before and a gray T-shirt. This time his hair wasn’t confined and it fell around his jaw and neck in dark, mysterious waves. I stood, smoothing out the white dress I wore as we stared at each other for long moments.

I felt as if there was some kind of invisible string that stretched between our bodies and it was humming, trying to tug us closer together.

Then he lifted his hand in a wave and the feeling of the string disappeared. As I waved, he moved forward, nimbly navigating some large rocks scattered through the stream until he landed on the same side of the water as me.

I turned toward him as he came closer, a smile on his face. He still hadn’t shaved and his tooth was still chipped. I tried to tell myself that these things were clear evidence that proved he wasn’t nearly as beautiful as Sinead, but the case was lost. The pure fact of it was that he was beautiful.

Imperfectly perfect.

“I wondered if you would come back,” he said in that less-than-smooth voice.

“You did?”

He nodded. “I’ve come here every day for the past two weeks, hoping you’d be here too.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. Why would he do that? “But why?” I asked, before I could stop myself.

He laughed. “You left an impression on me.”

“Aren’t you fishing today?” I asked, looking for his pole.

He shook his head. “How do you hide them?” he asked.

“Hide what?” I responded, the change of topic confusing me.

“Your wings.”

I glanced behind me without thinking to make sure that the veil I put on them had actually worked. My wings were hidden.

“My wings?” I asked like I had no clue what he meant.

“I saw them last time. Then they disappeared. I thought I’d been seeing things, but just now, you floated down from up there.” He motioned to the top of the ravine. “I didn’t see your wings, but I know they must be there.”

“You’re not afraid?”

He shook his head. “I could never be afraid of such a beautiful creature. Are you an angel?”

“Yes,” I told him. We weren’t supposed to interact with humans. We weren’t assigned to, but we weren’t supposed to lie either. “Please don’t tell anyone you saw me here.”

He nodded. “What’s your name?”

“Gemma,” I said and then I heard Sinead calling for me. “I have to go.”

“Wait,” he said, reaching out to grasp my hand. I looked down at where he held me and I watched, fascinated, as his thumb rubbed over the back of my hand. The texture of his skin was thrilling. “My name is Callum.”

“Callum,” I said, trying it out on my tongue.

“It sounds like a song when you say it.”

“I have to go,” I said again, knowing Sinead would be worried if he couldn’t find me right away.

Callum released me, and I flew up to the top of the ravine. Before trying to find Sinead, I looked over my shoulder. He was still there, looking up at me.

Something felt funny in my stomach and so I rushed off, already wondering when I would be able to see him again.

*    *    *

I waited to ask any questions until we made it past Airis, through the InBetween, and were welcomed back into heaven’s grace. “What happened?” I demanded of Sinead the minute we weren’t in earshot of anyone else.

“It must have been hanging out there in the woods. Perhaps it was hoping you would come back so it could get even for the dagger wound.”

“So it was a hellhound?”

He nodded. “First one I’ve seen in years.”

“How do you know it was the same one I saw?”

“They don’t run in packs like other shifters, and they’re fairly rare. I highly doubt there would be two in the same area at the same time.”

I nodded, not totally convinced, but unwilling to challenge his knowledge and the training he went through over the course of many years.

Sinead stopped walking and turned to face me. “Don’t worry about this. I killed it. It’s dead.”

“You’re sure?” I asked, thinking I’d thought it was dead, too.

“Absolutely.” He smiled a blinding bright smile and it melted away all doubt in my mind. “Let’s go get something to eat. Our trip made me hungry!”

He didn’t bring it up again after that. It was like it was completely gone from his mind. But for me, it was something I wasn’t able to forget.

After that, I met Callum in secret. Secret, meaning I told no one that I was meeting with a human after every assignment I had on earth. Callum also promised to tell no one, and for several months I would complete my assignments and then rush to the stream, hoping he would be there. And he always was.

At first, I only went because I was curious about the way I felt when I was with him. Like I was teetering on a cliff, only I didn’t have my wings. It was slightly terrifying but also thrilling. I wasn’t used to feeling that rush of emotions. I was used to a level head and level sentiments.

But then I realized curiosity wasn’t what kept me coming back.

He was sitting at the water’s edge, his scuffed-up jeans rolled up around his calves and his feet submerged in the stream. He had his hair back in a low ponytail at the base of his neck, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Instead, he had it tossed over one of his shoulders. I landed on the opposite side of the stream, my feet making a light splash in the water, and he looked up.

Surprise flickered in his eyes and he smiled, his grin stretching out across his face. He stood up as I flew myself over the water, closing the distance between us and hovering just over the ground so we were eye to eye.

“You’re not hiding your wings,” he said, his voice hushed.

“I figured after all this time, hiding wasn’t necessary.”

“They’re beautiful.” His eyes swept over them and I could see the pleasure in his face. It gave me a warm tingling feeling across my entire body. “So soft looking, but strong, you know?”

“Kind of like you,” I said shyly.

He laughed. It was an abrupt sound, kind of like a bark. “I look soft?”

I couldn’t help but glance at the muscles in his chest. It certainly wasn’t the first time I’d seen a man without his shirt—the angels preferred little clothing—but it was the first time I’d seen
him
without one. He wasn’t smooth and white like the angels. Instead, his skin was golden, like the sun was shining directly on it, and he had dark hair growing out of his chest that was curly and looked rough to the touch.

I cleared my throat and looked up from the hard expanse of his torso. He watched me with an amused expression on his face. “You don’t look soft… but I happen to know that what’s in here”—I reached out and laid my palm right over his heart—“is.”

He stilled and scarcely moved except to glance down at where I was touching him. Thinking I’d done something wrong, I moved to pull away my hand, but he covered it with his own, pressing it firmly in place.

I’d been right; the hair on his chest was rough.

But I liked the way it felt against my skin.

“You never touch me,” he rasped, wrapping his hand around mine.

“I’ve wanted to,” I confided. Oh, how I had longed to see if he felt the same way he looked. I always wondered if he would be full of textures and whether his skin would be warm to the touch or cool like mine.

It was more than I thought it would be.

“I’ve wanted you to.” As the words left his lips, he slid his hand up to my wrist and tugged me a little closer. He reached out and ran his fingers over my hair and then trailed his thumb down my cheek. It’s a good thing I didn’t really need to breathe because I would have passed out from lack of oxygen.

When his thumb trailed down along the underside of my bottom lip and then up over it, something tightened within me and a sharp feeling exploded in my chest.

He moved in closer, shifting his body so he was all I saw. There was only him and nothing else. He kept coming, closer… closer still, until his lips were so close to mine that I could practically taste them.

I jerked back. I might have fallen if he hadn’t caught me.

I suddenly recognized that feeling in my chest.