Tempted (6 page)

Leliel’s glowing eyes were bright enough to counter any star, a stark contrast to his shimmering, transparent form. Silvery-white hair billowed around his shoulders, and his chiseled features were beautiful enough to rival any marble-carved statue. His face was expressionless as he turned his glowing eyes on Sarah.

“
Sarah,” his voice boomed through the night. “Why have you come?”

“
I wish to ask a favor of you. I need access to a human’s dreams.”

Sarah knew that visiting Leliel was risky. The angel was a solitary being, one without any connection to or feeling for anyone, human or angel. His only loyalty was to his position, and that did not include allowing Sarah access to anyone’s dreams. Visiting him was necessary. Angels could typically read into a human’s memories or dreams, but only when that person had an open mind. Jackson had more than a few walls erected that would take Sarah forever to break down, even though she possessed the power to. She did not have that kind of time.

Leliel studied her silently, his wispy frame billowing like transparent smoke. He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“
Have you not tried accessing his mind?”

“
He is stubborn,” she said with a frown, remembering Jackson’s defiant stare. “My time is limited, and I need some insight into the darkness lurking in his soul. It’s important, Leliel. He’s a chosen Guardian, undecided. Eligos already had his eyes on him when I was assigned, which means this man possesses quite a gift.”

Leliel’s glowing eyes widened and he inhaled sharply. “Eligos.”

Sarah did not miss the shadows that crossed Leliel’s features at the sound of his brother’s name. Leliel had cut himself off from all emotion when Eligos chose the path of the Fallen.

“
Yes. He’s involved, and I don’t have to tell you what that means.”

Leliel nodded. “Very well. You may have access to the dreams of Jackson Bennett.”

Jackson spotted the Iraqis dotting the ridge to his right just seconds before he dove for cover. Bullets flew overhead, and he could hear the sound of them bouncing off the Humvee’s doors and windows as he scrambled around to the other side of the vehicle. He could see and hear Reedley screaming and struggling inside. Jackson lifted his head and saw his panic-stricken face through the window.

“
Hang tight Reed,” he yelled as his hands closed around the M4 carbine rifle at his side. “I’ll get you out of there.”

He didn’t know if it was because Reedley could hear him, or if the boy could sense the confidence in Jackson’s tone and facial expression, but the young private instantly calmed. Jackson knew he could not circle around to Reedley’s side of the Humvee without being shot full of bullets. He would have to go in through the driver’s side, and there was still Scott in the front seat and Richards between him and Reedley. Both were still unconscious.

He could see that Reedley was still fumbling with his seatbelt inside and prayed he could stop panicking long enough to reach his seatbelt cutter and get himself out of there. The occupants of the second Humvee came pouring out one by one through the driver’s side, weapons drawn. Jackson could see that the occupants of the fourth truck had done the same. He could faintly hear someone yelling over the radio calling the nine line medevac. He tried not to look overlong at the third truck, which at this point was nothing more than a twisted, smoking metal grave for those who had been inside.

Chaos reigned supreme as the men around him threw themselves into the fight. Bullets and 85mm mortars rained down on them from the jagged ridge where the enemy had taken refuge behind large rocks and boulders. Time seemed suspended and motionless as the sounds of the firefight surrounded them. His every sense seemed heightened in the moments that followed, and every detail stood out in sharp focus; the heat of the scorching desert sun overhead, the wiz of bullets flying by and the explosive sound of the occasional mortar nearby, the sound of the other guys’ voices shouting, the taste of dry sandy grit in his mouth.

The butt stock of the rifle kicked back against his shoulder as he fired, taking off the leg of the Iraqi he’d been eyeing through scope. “Black vest, ten o’clock!” Jackson hollered to be heard. “Motherfucker’s shooting mortars!”

Jackson eyed the massive boulder concealing the mortar-launching Iraqi. A moment ago the man had been right in his scope, but for the moment he was safe from Jackson behind his boulder. Jackson hoped that one of the others could take him down. Fortunately he hadn’t landed a single mortar near enough to do any damage…yet.

“
Get that cocksucker!” Lieutenant Rawls bellowed as he raised his rifle toward the hiding coward. From where he crouched behind the fourth truck he fired shots in the direction of the boulder, hoping to draw him out. After a few shots, Rawls managed to put a bullet in the Iraqi’s chest, but not before he’d let another mortar fly.

Jackson watched in open-mouthed horror as the mortar sailed straight toward the second truck. “Mortar!” he shouted, a warning to the guys crouched down behind the Humvee. Every man leaped for cover; all except for Corporal Davis, who had been taking a shot of his own. Seconds later, he was no more than pink mist and shattered body parts.

“
God damn you, you raghead sons of bitches!” Lieutenant Rawls screamed as his wide eyes took in all that was left of Davis. Jackson felt bile rising up in the back of his throat as his eyes locked with another Corporal, named Jones, as he faintly heard the sound of chopper blades. The nine line medevac was in the area, but would not land until it was clear for them to do so. Jackson still counted about ten or more Iraqis lining the ridge.

“
Jones,” he said to the Corporal who had dove from behind the second Humvee and landed next to him. “I need you to help me get Scott, Richards, and Reed out of here.”

“
Roger Sergeant,” he replied with a nod. He allowed his rifle to dangle from the sling across his body and the two of them knelt by the driver’s side door of the Humvee.

“
Scott first,” Jackson decided. “I think he might be really hurt. Maybe if we get him out we can get him to Doc.”

Doc, the medic, was several yards away, ducked down behind the fourth Humveee with Lieutenant Rawls and two others. It would be a long haul, and Scott was a big man. Jackson ignored the pounding in his head and allowed the adrenaline in his veins to take over.

“
We can do this,” he said as he swung open the door to the Humvee. “We need cover fire over here,” he yelled to the four guys huddled behind the fourth truck.

“
Smith, Thompson, get your asses over there!” Lieutenant Rawls commanded as he made to climb up onto the fourth truck and into the turret that housed the biggest weapon in their arsenal, the .50 caliber machine gun. The two soldiers jumped to obey the Lieutenant’s command, making their way quickly but carefully over to the first truck where Jackson and Jones were already busy cutting Scott loose from his seatbelt.

“
Get me the hell out of here Sergeant!” Reedley cried as his eyes connected with Jackson’s over the front seat. Jackson could see that Reedley had managed to find his seatbelt cutter after all. The boy had been so scared, he’d dropped the tool to the roof of the Humvee.

“
Just a few more minutes Reed,” Jackson promised

“
Yeah, given ‘em hell Ma Deuce!” Lieutenant Rawls yelled, calling the machine gun by its nickname. “Show those bastards what you can do.”

Up on the ridge, chunks of rock and stone turned to dust as the .50 caliber rounds pulverized them. The Iraqis scrambled for cover, unable to do more than cower when faced with the .50 cal. The staccato sound of the machine gun echoed through the empty desert.

Once Scott was free, Jackson grasped his upper body and Jones held his legs. Smith and Thompson ran alongside them, offering cover fire as they barreled toward the fourth Humvee, where Doc was waiting for them. Lieutenant Rawls was laughing and screaming curses at the Iraqis as he let the machine gun loose.

They deposited Scott with the medic before sprinting back toward the Humvee. Jackson came to a sliding stop like a batter coming in to home plate. He jerked open the door of the Humvee and stared into Reedley’s wide eyes just as he heard the scream of an RPG round shooting through the air…

Tears rolled down Sarah’s cheeks, her stomach churning violently at the images Leliel had showed her. It was no wonder Jackson had darkness lingering in his soul. War was an ugly business, one that left people changed forever. Jackson had seen more than his fair share of death.

“
Had enough?”

Sarah swiped a hand over her tear-filled eyes. She’d never cried before, in either her angelic or human forms. The tears flowed freely now, her heart broken at what she had just witnessed. She wanted to turn away, to tell Leliel that she’d had enough. Instead, she shook her head and took a deep breath.

“
Show me more.”

They were coming for him. Jackson didn’t know how he knew, but he did. As he lay sleeping on his cot in the desert, he tossed and turned. They were coming for him; he could hear their footsteps outside, hear their voices whispering as they conspired together.

They were deciding how to kill him, deciding how to get retribution. He’d killed their men, and they would have their revenge.

Jackson went completely still on his cot, listening as their footsteps grew closer. He heard them enter his tent and stalk toward him stealthily. He could hear them breathing. He forced himself to lay still and wait until one of them was within reach. They might outnumber him, but damn it, he was not going down without a fight.

He felt it when one of them came and stood beside the cot, felt the burning of the man’s eyes on his face. He held his breath and waited for him to make a move. As the man’s hand came toward him, Jackson reared up in the cot and opened his eyes. His arm lashed out to catch his enemy’s in midair, and he twisted it behind the man’s back painfully. Jackson leaped from the bed and took the man down, wrapping his hands around his throat.

His eyes were open, but he was caught somewhere between a dream and reality. He saw only the face of his enemy as he leaned over the man, squeezing the life out of him. He faintly heard the sound of gagging and choking and felt the scrape of fingernails against his face and neck. It wasn’t until a blinding pain exploded in his crotch that he rolled from on top of his victim with a pain-filled cry.

The pain had jerked him into complete wakefulness, and now he was lying on the cold hardwood floor of his bedroom. The patterned rug beneath the four-poster bed was familiar to him.

He rolled to his side as he struggled for breath, his eyes clashing with those of his wife. Rochelle sat just a few feet away from him on the floor, her hands pressed against the ugly bruise around her neck, crying and gasping for air…

Chapter 8: The Morning After

Jackson groaned aloud when he exited his apartment building the next morning. She was waiting for him. He quickly turned to the left, guiding Mason in the direction he took every morning. The dog loped along beside him obediently.

“
Guess I didn’t make myself clear last night,” he said as Sarah fell in on his other side. “I thought I told you to hit the bricks.”

“
You do not command me Jackson,” she said with a shrug. “I take my orders from Father and no one else. His orders were to protect you at all costs until you’ve made your decision.”

“
Tell your Father that I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a long time.”

Her arm lashed out and her small hand wrapped around his bicep. Jackson flinched from the pain of her tight grip; he kept forgetting that the little thing was an angel. She was probably as strong as ten men when she wanted to be. He halted and stared down at her.

“
You are a target for a very dangerous demon,” she said, her eyes wide. Jackson couldn’t help but notice the long spiky lashes framing the hazel depths. His eyes dropped down to her parted lips, tinged their own natural shade of pink. “You need to take this seriously, Jackson. Being a Guardian could change your life forever, give you a purpose. You’d be a fool to pass it up.”

He snorted. “Trust me, I’m not the guy you want. When people give me responsibilities I mess things up, every time. My mistakes have cost people their lives.”

“
You’re talking about Iraq aren’t you?”

Jackson was speechless. For a moment he wondered how she could possibly know, but then he realized how stupid he’d been. Of course she knew.

His jaw hardened and he looked away, disturbed by the penetrating honesty in her eyes. There was something about her gaze that made him feel stripped bare and vulnerable. He did not like the feeling. He glanced down at his watch and sighed.

“
I have somewhere to be and you’re coming with me. We can talk after,” he said as he and Mason continued on down the sidewalk. She trotted to catch up with him and the two walked in silence.