The Kiss of Angels (Divine Vampires Book 2) (6 page)

“You just trusted your feelings,” Char reminded her softly. 

“Well now you have to come tell everyone the story.” Jari’s eyes narrowed a little as she looked at Char, taking Muriel’s arm again and starting to move away.  “Anyway, practice is starting.”

“I guess I should go.” Muriel glanced back at him, standing there alone, and she found she didn’t really want to leave.  “I don’t suppose I’ll see you again?”

“Not unless I want you to.” He glanced at Jari, then back at Muriel. 

“Right.” She turned to go, following Jari, who passed easily through the nursery glass.  Then Muriel turned back.  “Char?”

“Yes?” He was looking at the newborn in the incubator, watching his chest rise and fall. 

“Do you?” Muriel asked softly.  He turned his head to look at her.  “Want to?”

He nodded.  Then he smiled. 

“Come on!” Jari burst into the room again, grabbing Muriel’s arm, not letting go this time as she pulled her through the glass. 

But Muriel couldn’t help looking back, and she saw Chariel watching her go.

Still smiling. 

And so was she. 

“But what if we get a call?” Jari pouted.  Her irritation turned down the corners of her mouth as she took aim and let her arrow fly, but it didn’t affect her aim.  She hit her target easily, the impact creating a brief spark before the arrow dissipated into nothing, its usefulness at an end. 

“Then I’ll meet you at the target.” Muriel drew her own bow, taking aim.  “I’m not going to Australia, Jari.  At least, I don’t think I am.”

The truth was, she wasn’t exactly sure where she was going.  Char had said he wanted to show her something, but he hadn’t told her what. 

He had found her again yesterday, while she was waiting with Jari at the movie theater for a first date couple to show up.  She enjoyed the “love at first sight” assignments.  This was a blind date, so it was even more fun.  The two had been set up by another couple, who would accompany them on a double date.  Jari was more excited about seeing the newly released movie than the assignment—
An American in Paris. 
Jari had been so engrossed in Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck, she barely noticed when Char appeared. 

But Muriel had noticed.  She’d been hoping to run into him for a week, wondering if she’d ever see him again.  A few times, she felt a sort of buzzy warmth, like she had before she’d heard his voice telling her to close her eyes, and wondered if he was near, unseen, but he’d never appeared.  Not until he’d suddenly materialized in the seat beside her, making Muriel nearly jump out of her chair. 

They’d spent an hour in the lobby talking, people-watching, before Muriel got a push from
The Maker
and remembered she had an arrow to shoot.  That’s when Char had told her he wanted to show her something.

“Tomorrow,” he said.  “After practice.  I’ll come for you.”

He seemed to know a lot about the cherubim, what they did, when they did it.  Far more than they knew about the seraphim. 

Of course, she’d said yes.

Jari had pouted when she returned, both because of Muriel’s absence—“You missed the best parts!”—and also because of the company she’d been keeping while she was gone.  Muriel knew Jari didn’t approve of her new friend, even though she hadn’t said a word.  She didn’t have to.  You didn’t spend eons working side by side with someone without learning all the signs of trouble, long before it started. 

Jari was like a teapot.  She simmered slowly until she finally went off.  Muriel had discovered it was far better to take the kettle off the heat before that happened, and she usually accommodated her partner without a second thought.  Jari was headstrong, opinionated, and stubborn—but she was also fun, if a little crazy sometimes.  Mostly, Muriel enjoyed her company.  She thought of the little fey they’d seen, high-fiving behind the back of the nurse, and smiled.  She and Jari were like that, teasing and joking and having a good time, because what better job was there than spreading love through the world?

Muriel had sensed Jari starting to simmer yesterday, after she’d hurried into the darkened movie theater to join her partner for the last five minutes of the show.  They’d hit their target, no problem, just as the lights came up and the couple started to rise.  Muriel usually would have lingered to watch that golden thread begin to twine, but she had wanted to see if Char was still waiting in the lobby.  And Jari knew it, especially after Muriel had informed her that she was going to meet him again the following day. 

“Well how long will you be?” Jari lifted her bow, taking aim again. 

“I don’t know,” Muriel confessed.  “I told you, I’m not even sure where we’re going.”

“What’s all the secrecy about?” Jari let her arrow fly, a little satisfied smile touching her face when she hit the center of the target.  “You know, I’m not sure the seraphim are even supposed to be hanging around with the cherubim.”

“It’s not a secret.” Muriel glanced around to see who might be listening.  The rest of the cherubim were busy shooting, taking turns at the rows of targets.  She didn’t think anyone had overheard.  And why would it matter? It wasn’t a secret, was it? But the truth was, she wasn’t entirely sure about the rules, or if there were any rules at all. 

If there were, the seraphim knew them—he wouldn’t be doing anything
The Maker
didn’t want him to.  Would he?

“But you’ll be back.” Jari didn’t wait for Muriel to draw before letting another arrow fly.  “Soon, I mean.”

“I’m sure we won’t be long.” Muriel wasn’t sure of anything, but she wasn’t about to add any more heat to the fire.  Jari was already far too suspicious about the whole thing.  It was true, it was out of the ordinary.  That made Jari inherently suspicious.  As much as Muriel liked Char, for some inexplicable reason, Jari seemed to dislike him—under equally questionable logic. 

“Don’t turn around.” The voice came from behind her and Muriel froze, bow in hand, aiming at the target.  She knew it was Char.  That same feeling came over her in his presence.  She wondered if everyone felt that way around him.  Maybe seraphim had that affect? “Don’t say anything.  No one else can see me.”

She wanted to turn around, but she didn’t.  Instead, she steadied her bow, trying to focus. 

“Hey sharp shooter, can you make that shot with your eyes closed?” Barbiel called over Jari’s head. 

Barbie had been one of the cherubs who had given Muriel the hardest time about Jari’s, albeit exaggerated, tale of the black soul.  To be fair, Barbie was one of the best shooters they had.  She and her partner, Amitiel, had nearly beat them at the annual cupid tournament last year, but Jari and Muriel had managed to squeak out a win by the narrowest of margins, much to Jari’s delight.  They held it every year on—of course—Valentine’s Day.  They were all practicing hard, preparing for this year’s competition in just one short week.

“She doesn’t have to prove anything to you.” Jari drew herself up to her full height, turning to face the other angel.  “Go away.”

“Come on, I wanna see you do it.” Ami stood beside her partner, bow in hand.  She’d just made quite the bullseye shot.  “Unless, you know, you can’t…”

Ami let her words fall off, a smirk on her face.  Muriel lowered her bow and met the other angel’s insolent gaze but didn’t say anything.  She honestly didn’t know if she could do it again.  Something about that moment had felt… magical.  It was a stupid thing to think, but that’s what felt true. 

“She can’t do it.” Barbie turned, raising her own bow and quickly drawing an arrow.  She let off a quick shot, hitting the center of the target again, just like her partner had.  “These two think they’re all that and a choir of seraphim.  Please.  You can’t scare us with stories about black souls and hitting targets with your eyes closed.”

“She did too hit it with her eyes closed!” Jari snapped. 

Muriel felt that simmering heading toward boil and took her partner’s arm. 

“Jari, forget it,” she murmured, trying to lead her away, but Jari wasn’t having it. 

“I will not forget it!” Jari whirled, shaking Muriel’s hand loose.  “I saw her do it with my own eyes.  Ask
The Maker
if you don’t believe me.”

“We’re not going to bother
The Maker
with questions about you and your lies.” Ami laughed. 

“Why not?” Jari challenged, hands on hips.  “You two afraid you’re going to lose your halos?”

It was a horribly sarcastic insult—angels hated it when anyone intimated that they wore halos and played harps, almost as much as they detested the “every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings” misnomer—and it had its intended affect.  Both Barbie and Ami took the bait.

“I’ll challenge you right now!” Barbie snapped, raising her bow in one hand, a challenge.  “Both of you.  Let’s go! Right now!”

“Hold on, hold on.” Karael, the head cherubim, came over, hearing the commotion.  Almost everyone had stopped practicing to turn and watch, waiting to see what was going to happen.  “Save it for the tournament, okay?”

Kara was nothing if not diplomatic.  That’s why they’d made her head cherub.  She had a way of calming tempers.  There was something inherently competitive about the cherubim.  It made them great shots—but it also made them volatile sometimes. 

“Do
you
believe she made that shot with her eyes closed?” Ami asked, looking pointedly at Kara. 

“You know she doesn’t,” Barbie countered with a snort.  “You heard her say it yourself.”

Muriel looked at the head cherub, seeing from the look on her face that it was true.  Muriel didn’t anger easily, but when she did, she saw red.  They really believed Muriel was lying.  That made her furious. 

“Close your eyes.” The whisper came from beside her, along with that delicious buzzing warm feeling.  “Go ahead.  You can do it.”

She shook her head, almost imperceptibly, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the head cherub, who was attempting to backpedal and smooth things over.  Muriel couldn’t even hear her words, she was so mad. 

“You can do it.” It was Char, whispering, urging her on.  “Trust me.”

“Fine, I’ll prove it to you,” Muriel turned toward the target, already raising her bow. 

“You’ll do it?” Jari looked at her in surprise, then she squealed in delight.  “She’ll show you!”

“Right.  Sure,” Barbie muttered.  “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“If she throws a stick for you, will you fetch it and go away?” Jari asked, glaring at her. 

“Muriel, you don’t have to do this…” Kara said. 

“Blindfold her,” Ami called over her partner’s head. 

“Is that really necessary?” Jari rolled her eyes. 

“Go ahead, Jari,” Muriel said, glancing at her partner.  “Cover my eyes.”

“No, a blindfold.” Barbie, taller than the rest of them, stepped up behind Muriel, holding out a strip of cloth she’d pulled from her quiver.  “She’d let her peek.”

“You use that to polish your halo?” Jari asked, drawing another glare from Barbie. 

“Fine.” Muriel had already closed her eyes, feeling everyone else’s gaze on her.  She also felt that warming presence beside her still.  Char was there, watching, but no one else could see him.  Barbie tied the cloth over Muriel’s eyes, tightening it, hard, but she didn’t protest. 

“This is going to be good.” Ami let out a loud laugh.  “Everyone clear the target area, unless you want an arrow in your side.”

“Muriel, you really don’t have to,” Kara said softly, close.  “I didn’t say I didn’t believe you, I just said it was… unlikely.”

“Step back, Kara,” Muriel said, picturing the target in front of her in her mind.  She had no idea if she could really do this, but Char’s presence gave her a sort of confidence, almost bravado, that made her sound more self-assured than she felt. 

She drew her bow, feeling the seraphim’s presence, like standing in the rays of the sun after a long darkness.  It calmed her, steadying her hands.  That same warmth filled her hands, as if her bow had become alive.  Even the cocked arrow trembled between her fingertips.  She was going to hit her target.  There was no doubt in her about it.