Of Consuming Fire (14 page)

“No, brother. Things have not yet gotten so dire.”

Before relief could fully take its hold, Jayden felt a flare of very human jealousy. Jayden had not heard the Most High’s voice in ages. The Most High rarely spoke to His angels, but He spoke to the defilers all of the time. Jayden heard Him speak in their thoughts, and it nearly killed Jayden. Words of encouragement. Words of love —

Jayden straightened.
Words of love?
If the Most High loved the humans, then why was Jayden here? Why was he ordered to kill them?

Jayden searched his memory. Since that first time so long ago, the Most High had never again confirmed Jayden’s mission. Only the other angels, his commanding officers, continued to communicate the necessity of slaying the defilers of the Tree of Eternal Life.

A sick foreboding filtered into Jayden’s consciousness. The Compulsion forced an angel to complete a mission, whether or not that mission was commissioned by the Most High. Lucifer had decided on his mission alone and followed his own Compulsion into the pit of hell.

Jayden was doing the right thing.
Right?

“My brother?”

The quiet, uncertain question pulled Jayden from his thoughts. He dragged heavy eyes from the floor to look upon one of the few beings he called friend.

“My brother, are you well?”

Jayden shuddered. Was he well? He did not know. Had he somehow allowed himself to fall from grace? Had he gone rogue without realizing it?

“Jayden,” Anahita said, her voice rising slightly, “your mission is right. Holy. You know this.” She reached out to squeeze his bicep, the friendly touch only making Jayden wish the hand belonged to someone else. “Do not allow the presence of your Temptation to cause you doubt.”

Jayden jerked his arm from her grasp, wrenching a shocked gasp from his fellow angel.
She knew
. She knew that Jayden faced his Temptation. It was obvious enough for them all to see, humans
and
angels.

Love makes one weak.

“I know,” Jayden ground out between clenched teeth. “I know my mission is holy. I
will
carry it out.”
The Compulsion will make sure of it, whether my mission truly comes from Most High or not.
Jayden shoved the bitter, distressing thought aside. He could no longer dwell on that possibility. The brief time he had spent pondering it already chipped away at Jayden’s peace of mind.

Anahita stared silently at Jayden for several moments before speaking again. “If you should need me — ”

“I will not.”

Anahita’s mouth snapped closed. Her eyes swam with doubt. “Of course, brother.”

In the next second, she was gone.

Jayden closed his eyes and rubbed the ache in his chest with an open palm. Who knew what report she would carry back to their commanding officers?

Who knew what Jayden would do now?

Over the past three days, Grace had trained with the angel all day, every day. She was shocked at how good the physical activity made her feel about herself. She was even more shocked that, for the first time since she was seventeen, she felt safe. And while under hostage. She’d been sleeping better lately. Well, better if the heated dreams her constant physical contact with the angel created didn’t count.

In fact, since that first time he had shown her some simple self-defense moves, she hadn’t once had a nightmare about the attack. And if her thoughts touched upon the attack during the day, she was easily able to steer them in another direction.

For the first time in thirteen years, Grace was free.

But, as Abilene and Dahlia had warned, she developed a severe connection with the angel in their time together. Dahlia put her on birth control, much to Grace’s horror. “Trust me,” the woman said patting her growing baby bump. “Practical matters don’t register in the heat of the moment.” What was worse was that Dahlia seemed to be right.

To her libido, it didn’t matter that the angel was keeping her prisoner. All it cared about was that the angel was near. Laying his hands on her, even though her mind often reminded her libido it was only for the purpose of teaching Grace how to fight. No other reason.

But then the angel’s eyes would flare as his palm skimmed down her arm, and Grace would wonder.

Their interaction in the past few days also convinced Grace that the angel was telepathic. No sooner would one of their encounters bring an unwelcome flicker of her memory to the attack than the angel would back off. Completely drop his hands from wherever they touched her and apologize, making sure to give her plenty of physical space.

At first, it embarrassed Grace to a devastating level, but in the ensuing days, she had grown thankful, and now she had done a complete turnaround so that when he pulled his hands from her body when her thoughts turned, she was actually disappointed. His touch provided the perfect distraction. Not to mention how wonderful his hands felt on her. Having them withdrawn was a punishment.

Her longing for him had gotten so bad that, in her daily meeting of her sexual need, she had grown completely unsatisfied with her own touch. She wanted
him
to touch her. To bring her pleasure again as he had that one time — a time that featured prominently in her fantasies ever since.

But at this rate, with his quick apologies and immediate removal of touch, she would never know what it felt like to have him bring her pleasure again. And that was beginning to be a problem.

Today, the angel was teaching her how to throw an enemy. She hadn’t even laughed this morning when he’d announced that was the plan. She’d grown to trust him in ways she would never have guessed. One thing was certain, if the angel said something, it was true. If he thought she could actually throw an enemy much larger than herself, she believed him.

Even still, she had been shocked when she’d first managed the feat shortly after breakfast. She would never forget what the angel looked like landing flat on his back with a dramatic
umph
— the fact that he exaggerated the effects of her moves had not escaped her notice. But, perhaps, her moves
would
have that effect on a mortal man who would no doubt be much weaker than he was.

“Now,” the angel said, drawing Grace from her thoughts, “let us do it again, this time with the attacker holding a weapon.”

Without thought, Grace’s attention flew to the hilt of the sword where it appeared over the angel’s right shoulder. It was always strapped to his back, never out of his sight. She got the impression that he both expected the humans to be afraid of it and to try to steal it at any moment. But Grace wasn’t afraid of it. She had studied it closely for a handful of months. To her, the sword was like an old friend.

Nevertheless, as soon as the angel noticed where her eyes wandered,
he
blanched. “No,” he said quickly. “Not an actual weapon. We shall …
pretend
.”

So, the angel didn’t want to wield the sword against her, even when it was not as a real threat?
Interesting
.

He moved the lesson on quickly, as though he needed to distract her from noticing his reaction. “Most humans are right-handed, so we will begin that way, though we will practice both.” He already stood before her, so he didn’t move except to raise his right arm, his hand clutching an invisible weapon. “We shall assume this is a blunt object. We will do knives later, but imagine this is a stick of some kind. Notice all of the space I have created here.” With his free left hand, he gestured to the open part of his body at his right side. “This is where you go. Stop my arm with your left forearm.”

She stepped forward and followed his direction. It placed her directly in the shelter of his body. She was staring at his Adam’s apple as it bobbed briefly.

“Good,” he said, his voice cracking. “Now hook your right arm up and around and grab my shoulder from behind.”

She obeyed. It felt wonderfully like an embrace. Her face was all but buried in the muscle between his bicep and shoulder, and it took all of her willpower to keep from rubbing herself against him like a cat.

He didn’t speak for a few moments, and she wondered if she was doing it wrong, but then he said, “Now, I am off balance because my weight has been thrown into a strike. Use that to your advantage, Temptation.”

Annoyance edged in on what Grace was feeling. He never once addressed her by her name, usually calling her human. But he occasionally referred to her as
Temptation
— and she’d learned it was one of the ways he tried to keep her at a distance.

“Notice how your hip is directly behind mine. Butt against me and at the same time pull my shoulder back.”

She did it quickly, her movements rougher than she’d intended as she acted out of stung hurt at being called
Temptation
once again. It worked better than she’d thought the move would work. He went flying, his legs all but shooting out from under him. She seemed to have legitimately caught him off guard — she
had
moved before he’d even finished the instruction — because she went down with him. That had never happened before. He was always so in control of where his body went that she had more than enough time to extricate herself from his body as it fell.

This time, she fell forward, emitting a very unladylike squeak as she rushed toward the floor. Moments before she face-planted on the tile, his hands shot out and grabbed her, pulling her safely to his chest. She face-planted in the middle of his pecs instead.

The world completely froze as she assessed her current position. She was sprawled directly on top of his body, pressed against him fully. Her hands were planted on the floor on each side of his ribcage. His arms held her loosely; his hands were resting, one in the small of her back, the other between her shoulder blades. They were warm and so large they left very little of her back untouched.

It was exquisite.

She turned her face to the side and rested her cheek against his chest. His heart was thundering. And then the hand between her shoulder blades moved slowly and gently up until it grasped her nape. His other hand moved as well, allowing him to wrap his arm around her. His arms tightened.

He was hugging her.

She felt every muscle in her body relax, causing her to sink into his body further. She was afraid to breathe, lest he end the embrace, but she did dare to rub her cheek against his chest.

It felt so good.
So different from Seth
, she thought.

As soon as the thought entered her brain, the angel moved. His arms suddenly vanished. He grasped her loosely around the upper arms and tried to set her on her feet.

Frustration charged through her. “What are you — ?”

He shifted beneath her until she was no longer lying on top of him but sitting on the tile, and then he abruptly shot to his feet and took two giant steps away from her. “Angel,
stop
!”

He did, tilting his head to the side and staring at her with obvious confusion.

“I didn’t … want you to … move,” she said haltingly, feeling a blush spread to the roots of her hair.

He frowned. “But you thought of him. The one who hurt you.”

Grace barely refrained from a blurted ‘
I
knew
it!’
So the angel did read minds. Great. Just her luck. She looked at the floor, mortified beyond belief that he was able to discern her thoughts.

She heard him move forward, and then his finger was beneath her chin. He gently turned her face upward. He was crouching before her. Emotions she couldn’t identify flickered in his eyes. “Will you tell me of him, Temptation?”

She jerked her head back. His hand fell. “Will you tell me why you call me
Temptation
?” she spat.

His eyes hardened. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

Grace smiled without warmth. “Exactly how I feel, angel. Besides, don’t you already know everything about him? About all of it?” She’d thought of it enough in front of the angel. She would be surprised if any aspect of her rape remained a mystery to him.

His expression told her she was right. “I find I wish to hear it from your lips,” he said.

“Why?”

He sighed. “I do not know.”

Well, at least she wasn’t the only one confused by the desires she felt around him.

“A trade?” The words came from
her
to her surprise. Since they were already out there, she continued with, “I tell you what you want to know,” she had to swallow past the lump in her throat, “and you tell me what I want to know?”

The angel grimaced, but several seconds later he nodded tersely. She was shocked. Never in a million years would she have thought he would agree to such a thing. He must desperately want her to tell him of the attack if he was willing to give up just one of his secrets in exchange.

“You first,” she said.

He smiled. “I think not.”

Her mouth snapped open. “But you could decide not to tell me anything after you hear!”

He gestured to himself. “Cherubim, Temptation. We cannot lie.”

It was his use of that obnoxious word again that finally made it happen. “Fine!” But after a few wasted moments, Grace realized she didn’t know how to start. It had been thirteen years since she’d told anybody. With a feeling of helplessness, she raised her eyes to his.

The amber green depths warmed, and he sat beside her, crossing his legs. “How old were you?” he prompted.

Relief that she wouldn’t have to come up with the tale completely on her own flooded her. “Seventeen.”

Though he had to have already known, he made a small, angry noise. “So young.” His voice dripped with sorrow.

“He was my first — and
only
— boyfriend.” She paused. “Actually, I guess I can’t call him that. It was all a joke anyway. There was a bet going around school that no one could get the fat girl to give it up,” she tried to laugh, but it came out choked.

She felt his big hand land on her back, and he began to stroke a sure, slow circle between her shoulder blades. It gave her enough courage to keep going. “When things didn’t move as fast as he wanted, when he’d decided that I really
wasn’t
going to sleep with him, he decided to take it.” She began to shake. “His friend helped. Held me down so — ” She broke off. That was as far as she could go. The most she could tell.