Lucca (35 page)

“She has a point,” Blaize added, making
Lucca grumble with annoyance. “Lana will go over what you need to
do, Juliet.” Blaize continued. “And Lucca?”

“I didn’t go anywhere.”

“About your other little problem, Lana is
still working on it. Beacon tattoos don’t show up in the
books.”

“Look for a protection spell,” Juliet cut
in. She met Lucca’s gaze. “Barachiel may be using the tattoo to
hunt Lucca down, but perhaps the tattoo is really a location spell
to keep a person safe. It would work the same way.”

Lucca leaned down and kissed her. “Did you
get all that, Blaize, Lana?” Lucca asked. His hand glided into
Juliet’s hair as he indulged again.

God, she would never have enough of this
man.

“Yes. Brilliant by the way, Juliet.”

“Thanks,” she answered between kisses.

“She’s a keeper,” Blaize said. “I’ll ring
off now since the two of you…” he coughed as if to clear his
throat. “You sound like you’re occupied.”

Juliet fumbled for the phone, ending the
call as Lucca tumbled her back onto the sofa so she lay on top of
him. She moved the long wheat-colored strands away from his face.
“You’re too pretty for words.” She smiled at his frown of
protest.

“I most certainly am not pretty.”

She chuckled and kissed his nose. “No, I
suppose you aren’t, but you’re beautiful to me, Lucca.”

His large hand covered hers. His expression
so full of love it poured over his features, exposing him in a way
she hadn’t thought possible.

“Say the words,” she whispered, not sure if
she spoke aloud or if he somehow knew she needed to hear it, if
only once.

“I love you, Juliet.” His voice was a hoarse
whisper, but she heard him.

Tears sprung to her eyes like a little girl
and she half laughed, half sobbed. “I love you, too.” Her hand
caressed his face. “Tell me something about you. Something
personal.” Their time together was drawing to an end. If something
went wrong and they couldn’t be together, she wanted to know as
much about him as possible. “How were you as a boy?”

He stiffened, his expression closing off as
if he slammed a steel door in place.

“Lucca?”

He shook his head. He took her hand and
kissed it with a sigh, finally relaxing. “Let’s just say my
childhood was not a warm and cozy affair.

She recalled him telling Owen his father
wasn’t the best roll model. Had his father been abusive? It would
stand to reason why he kept his distance from everyone, even his
own brethren. He didn’t trust easily. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Lucca
told her. They both sat up. She curled her feet to the side to sit
next to him. “You’re good with Owen, you know,” he told her.
“Loving.” He pressed his lips together and she thought he wouldn’t
say more, but he turned to look at her and she witnessed the
resolve in his eyes. “My father wasn’t human,” he stated.

“He was Nephilim?” she asked

He shook his head. "He was one of the
original two hundred Angels to come here to earth to watch and
record history.” He laughed without humor. “But that didn’t work
out so well.”

Her hand clasped his, intertwining their
fingers.

“My father is Arizul. He despised humans,
blamed them for his fall when he was the weak one. He let his
attraction to the humans overshadow reason.”

“And your mother?”

“Human. She died giving birth to me. Most of
the human women did not survive giving birth to the Nephilim.”

“Like my sister. She was doomed from the
beginning, wasn’t she?” She became quiet then, her lips pressing
together in thought.

“You don’t have to worry,” Lucca told her.
“The Nephilim rarely have children. It’s far and in between for a
child to be born between a union.”

“But I thought it was only recently that the
Nephilim could have a relationship with a human. How do you know?”
The question put him aback.

“We haven’t had many children when we
coupled with other preternatural beings.” He looked at her,
realizing what he claimed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think… I would
never intentionally put you in danger.”

She covered his lips with her forefinger.
“Shush.” She leaned against him. She really didn’t think they had
to worry. She hadn’t ovulated and she could still take the herbs.
“Leroy knew things. He hinted that I would fall for one of the
Nephilim. He gave me herbs to ensure I would not become pregnant. I
kept them, but I never thought I would have a reason to use
them.”

He squeezed her hand. “Promise me you’ll
take the herbs.”

She nodded, but she couldn’t think of ending
a life. If she were pregnant, the baby would be Lucca’s. He sensed
she was hedging on the promise.

“Do it for Owen, if not for yourself,” he
insisted. “He needs you. If the Angels get a hold of him and their
intent isn’t death, I fear they’ll try to harden him against
compassion for the humans.”

Her eyes blurred, but she blinked the tears
back. “For Owen then. Is that what your father tried to do to you?
Harden you against humans?”

He half laughed and the trials he endured
spilled over into his words. “He tried to beat human emotions out
of me. I defied him for awhile, but…” He let the words trail off.
The memories of his childhood shadowed his eyes, the blue dimming
to a darker gray. “I saved a young girl once, you know,” he spoke
so softly she wasn’t sure she had heard him, but then he looked at
her. “She would have been from your timeline and probably lived
close to where you lived. Perhaps you even knew her. She would have
been trampled to death if I hadn’t intervened.”

“Oh God.” She squeezed his hand and he
paused in his storytelling. Her gaze wavered over the bold features
of a man who endured much sorrow at the hands of his father, but
somehow managed to survive. Lucca was beautiful to behold, but
there was nothing evident of him ever being a child and yet she
knew. “You were the golden haired boy. You leapt to my rescue,
sweeping me off my feet and away from the horse that flew by. I
would have died that day if not for your courageous act.”

His brows furrowed. “It was you? I saved you
that day?” His eyes gave her a slow appraising glance. “Your hair
was like sun-kissed strands shimmering in the light. I was drawn to
you even then. My father ordered me not to interfere with your
destiny, but I couldn’t watch you die.”

“You saved me,” she whispered, knowing
without him saying it, he paid for his act of kindness. “I’m sorry.
Your father punished you, didn’t he?”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “It was worth
what I had to endure to know you still lived.” He pulled her close
kissing her gently. Their foreheads touched, their lips a breath
away.

“Leroy claimed fate had a way of catching up
with you.” She kissed him gently. “He was right.”

* * * * *

A few days ago, Lucca would have sworn he
forged his own destiny, but maybe their choices just put them on
the path to where their destiny awaited. He shook his head. He
brushed a silken strand away from Juliet’s face. “You look at me as
if I’m worthy of your love, but in truth I’m not.” She tried to
speak, but he silenced her with his finger gently pressed to her
lips. “Please let me speak.” She nodded for him to continue. “I
have done many things I’m not proud of. I could blame my father’s
influence, but as an adult I didn’t change. I let bitterness rule
my actions. I put up a wall to make sure I didn’t cross over and
let my human emotions shine through. Every time I cared for a
human, they paid a hefty price. My father would see to it.”

“Oh, Lucca, you feared being hurt so you
closed off your heart.”

She understood him more than he thought.
“Still it doesn’t excuse the deeds I’ve done.” He took a ragged
breath. It was time to tell her the whole truth. “The Watchers
don’t bind wings on a whim. I deserved the punishment I received. I
didn’t want to believe the Nephilim had souls or that they could
find a soul mate and have a chance for happiness. I tried to kill
Eli before he could prove he’d found his soul mate. I thought if I
did, it would end the Watchers’ curiosity. We’re the Nephilim, the
children of the Angels fallen from grace. We were told we were
abominations. We could never enter heaven, that we were damned. In
my mind, killing Eli was the right thing to do.”

He met her gaze expecting to see loathing,
but there was only compassion. She truly did love him.

She leaned forward kissing the side of his
mouth. “Maybe you did deserve the punishment, but I believe you’ve
found your way back. You always had a kind heart, but you kept it
walled up, trying to be who your father forced you to be.” Her hand
fell to his chest, where his heart beat under her palm. “You were
the golden haired youth who saved me. Even then I knew you were
someone special.” She pulled him closer. “I love you, Lucca. I need
you to hear it. I need you to feel it in here.” She tapped his
chest. “I love you.”

He did feel it. “No one has ever told me
they loved me before. Never.” He believed no one could love
him.

She shifted in his arms and looked up at him
with surprise, but there was something more there, too, a sort of
determination as if she would protect him from ever being hurt
again. “Everyone needs to know they’re loved by someone.” He
touched her cheek and she leaned against his palm. “Know it now,
Lucca. You’re loved.”

She moved into his embrace and as his arms
closed around her, he felt he had finally come home.

Chapter Forty-Three

Juliet and Lucca parked the car on the
street in front of the Amphitheatre. As Lucca stepped out of the
vehicle, he spotted Zaiden leaning against the entrance wall of the
theatre in a nonchalant manner. He wore his leather jacket with the
pockets, most likely to conceal more than a few weapons.

Sarice stood near him with arms crossed over
her chest. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, a dramatic
effect, giving her lovely features a more defined edge. Her dark
clothing reminded him of what a cat burglar would wear on a heist,
but instead of a tool belt to lift paintings and jewels, her belt
contained lethal weaponry.

Blaize swooped down and landed at Lucca’s
side. He folded his wings against his back as he kept pace with
him.

As they approached, Zaiden growled at the
Darklin. “What’s he doing here?”

“We need him.” Lucca said.

“We don’t.” Zaiden bared his teeth, the low
guttural vibration a threat.

Lucca stared at Zaiden and shook his head.
The Watcher’s icy blue eyes were bright, his pupils dilated.
“When’s the last time you let Sarice suck on your neck?” He raised
an eyebrow in challenge, his gaze shifting to Sarice, who had the
decency to look away. “Just what I thought.”

Zaiden stood down, his fangs disappearing
within his gums. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re compromised.” Before he ended up
bristling Zaiden’s feathers further, Lucca held up his hand. “And
so am I. I have my glamour to heal, but I’m not up to full strength
with my wings bound. I figure with Blaize’s help, he’ll make up for
our deficiencies.”

Blaize’s lips curved into a smile that
didn’t quite reach his violet eyes. “I’m here for backup only.
Since you’re with my sister, I’ll look out for you. I have no wish
for her grief to become mine.” He looked at his twin. “You’re
looking healthy.” The jibe didn’t go unnoticed if her hiss of
warning was any indication.

“If you’re done sparring, the gates are
open,” Juliet announced with a wave of her hand.

They had decided on the Amphitheatre for the
showdown. Juliet knew the place well and it would give her an
advantage if things turned ugly.

“Just stay out of my way unless we need you,
Blaize,” Zaiden spat, walking ahead, leaving behind a frosty chill
in his wake.

Blaize saluted Zaiden’s back in mock
reverence.

“Always the child,” Sarice jibed as she
pushed away from the wall to follow Zaiden inside.

Lucca forced himself not to smile. “Watch
it,” he warned Blaize. "Let’s save the fight for later, shall
we?”

Blaize snorted. “I’ve been sparring with
Sarice since the womb, but you’d think Zaiden would show me a
little respect, he is in a blooding relationship with my sister.
We’re practically related.”

Lucca shook his head as he glanced up at the
sky. It was painted the colors of orange and dark blue as the sun
dipped below the horizon, giving off the appearance of tranquility.
Unfortunately, he knew it wouldn’t last.

Lucca let Blaize go in ahead of him. He took
hold of Juliet’s hand. “Remember, stay out of sight once Barachiel
arrives.”

“Don’t worry, Lucca. I’ll be all right. You
take care of yourself.” She turned her head as Eli swooped in for a
landing, his wings a magnificent blend of beige and cream
colors.

“Lana and Ryden should be here any
moment.”

“I’m here,” Ryden announced, but she wasn’t
with Lana. Gideon strode in with her. His bow and green gold tipped
arrows strapped to his back.

Lucca frowned, his eyes narrowing in on
Gideon. “Who’s watching Owen? You were to guard him.”

Gideon held up his hands. “Owen is safe. One
of Zaiden’s Guard buddies is there and Lana stayed behind, too.
With a Guard of Judgment and a witch at Owen’s side, he’s in good
hands.”

Juliet sighed with relief. “Thank you.”

Gideon gave her a lopsided smile.

“Looks like the whole crew’s here then.”
Lucca’s gaze found Juliet’s again. “Are you ready? 'Cause you’re
on, Juliet.”

“I’m ready.” Juliet headed up the stairs of
the stage. When she stood in the center of it, she opened the black
bag she had with her, retrieving Raziel’s dagger. Lifting the jewel
hilted dagger heavenward, she recited the words Lana had taught her
to say for the spell. The words were of an old language, guttural
and beautiful at the same time. It bothered Lucca that he didn’t
recognize the language, but Lana assured them the words would keep
an Archangel witch-spelled.