Archangel Rafe (A Novel of The Seven Book 1) (17 page)

He watched his cock disappear between her lips. Her eyes were closed and her face held a look of sheer bliss as she sucked rhythmically. She moaned low and deep in her throat and he could feel the vibration in his balls.

His body responded to the slight sensation and he went off like a rocket, his orgasm radiated out in a starburst, and sent erotic pulses down to the soles of his feet and up through the top of his head.

Blood rushed to his genitals and his vision disintegrated as he swayed on his feet. Her throat constricted as she swallowed the come that jetted out of his body. The act was so dissatisfactory. Even in a dream, he wished for the completion of full penetration and the surcease to bury himself into her welcoming heat.

Languidly, Angelina slithered up his body. Her fingers skimmed the furrow of his spine. Her mouth plump and rosy from the love play, she nipped his chin with her teeth and licked at his mouth until he opened.

He wanted to inhale her. He took her mouth, swept his tongue as he searched for her distinct essence, and wondered at the vivid explicitness of his dream. He registered the salty taste of his semen at the same moment he acknowledged the solid weight of her breasts against his chest and the already re-burgeoning length of his erection against the soft skin of her stomach.

His dream wasn’t a dream. She was here. In the flesh. A solid corporeal form in his arms as she rubbed against him with an eagerness that would lead to other forbidden acts.

But how was this possible?

As if she felt his hesitation, she opened her eyes. He ripped his mouth from hers. Awareness flooded her and she stiffened as she too realized the import of this situation. Confusion filled her face as she looked down at their naked bodies then ran her tongue along her lips, licked once, then licked again. “Where am I?”

She shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here. They shouldn’t be here.

“In the Third Sphere of the Angelic Realm.”

“Your Angelic Realm?” she asked. “How did I get here?”

Rather than deal with the more serious complications of their problems, he skirted her questions. “My realm. The Realm has three spheres composed of three Angel hierarchies. Each sphere exists on a different plane than the earth.”

“And I am really here?”

“Yes.”

She pulled away from him, crossed her arms over her naked body, and tried futilely to cover herself as she realized the import of their contact. “This isn’t a dream.”

“No.” Rafe stepped back, making no attempt to cover his semi-aroused body.

Her horrified expression said it all. She shouldn’t be here. “How did this happen?”

Then he realized that she hadn’t pulled him into her dreams this time. Rafe had summoned Angelina while asleep. Incomprehensible. Impossible.

And yet, here she was. What had he done? And how could he protect her if he couldn’t control his unconscious mind?

They stood there, the scent of sex heavy in the sterile air of the lab, and neither spoke. Angelina couldn’t leave until he translocated her back to the human realm.

“Yo, Rafe,” Uri strode into the laboratory, as he studied a document in his hand.

Angelina’s face shifted into horror as she grabbed for the jacket draped over the back of the giant chair.

He needed to get her out of here. Rafe lunged forward to block Uri’s view of Angelina’s nude body, but it was too late.

“I need you to--holy shit.” Uri stopped dead. “Why is she here?”

TWENTY-FIVE

Rafe mouthed to Angelina,
Don’t say a word.

She nodded okay, her body curled in embarrassment and some other emotion he couldn’t quite place.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Uri whispered.

“I can explain.” Sort of. Rafe wondered how. Even he wasn’t exactly sure how this happened.

Angelina clutched the lapels of Rafe’s leather jacket tightly together. Still silent.

“Give me a minute.” Rafe had to get Angelina home.

“Yeah.” Uri paced around the lab. “
This
is how you get rid of her?”

Angelina stiffened. But thankfully, she still didn’t speak.

“You bring her to the realm and, and, and....” Uri waved his hands wildly in the air.

“I just--”

“Don’t.” Uri covered his eyes with his hand. “Don’t tell me any more. I don’t hear, I don’t see, and I don’t know anything, so therefore I don’t have to turn you in.”

“Fine.” With a wave of his hand, Rafe dressed Angelina in her workout clothes from earlier, and then confessed, “I have a problem.”

Uri turned around to face Rafe, his face a mask of frustration. “You have more than one.”

“Is there a way to control our subconscious?”

Uri raised his blond eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t bring her here consciously.”

“You have a serious problem.”

“I know. It’s getting worse.” Rafe hesitated. He should feel badly, but instead he was fiercely happy that she was here. With him. As if the fog cleared, he could finally see her greater purpose. Angelina wasn’t just a healer. She was
un ange avec le pouvoir déviant.
“She needs to go with me to Poland.”

“What?” Angelina finally spoke.

“That’s not a good idea.” Uri shook his head.

“No shit. But I need her help.” Rafe gestured to the microscope. “Between the two of us we should be able to see if this virus is infecting the human population.”

“Virus?” Her voice rose.

“We can go snoop around the village near the farm. See if we can find any more occurrences of the virus. Maybe get some answers.”

Angelina protested, “I can’t go to Poland.”

“You seriously want to dangle that temptation in front of yourself?” Uri asked.

Angelina looked back and forth between the two of them. Probably deciding who to slap first. Angelina’s natural exuberance had reasserted itself.

“She should leave,” Uri said at the exact same time Angelina said, “She’s standing right here.”

“I think we...
need
her,” Rafe said.

“That is suicide.” Uri stepped closer to Rafe as if trying to impress on him his worry. His expression chilled Rafe. “You’ll be banished.”

He held very still. “Are you threatening me?”

“No, you idiot.” Uri was vehement. “But if she hangs around, someone else will figure out what I don’t know and didn’t see. You feel me?”

“Why are you here?” Rafe asked suddenly. Uri never came into the lab.

Uri strode over to the refrigerator unit with the virus samples. “I have a question about the dead chickens.”

“There were dead people, too,” Angelina said. She straightened her shoulders and pressed her mouth together. “There weren’t just dead chickens.”

“You’re right,” Uri said thoughtfully.

Uri’s sudden interest in Angelina made Rafe uncomfortable. Among the laboratory instruments and specimens, she should have looked delicate, out of place and fragile. Instead, her shoulders went back and her chin came out as if she owned the whole damn place.

Rafe said, “True. Which means there might be more sick.”

Uri remained silent.

“I cannot heal humans.” Rafe wanted to make the point even though Uri already knew it.

Uri studied Angelina as if he’d never seen her before, his expression speculative. “So she might be able to heal this?”

“Heal what?” Angelina crossed her arms over her stomach and hunched her shoulders slightly.

Uri gestured to the microscope and pad. “That disease.”

Angelina stared at the notes on the pad next to the microscope. “Bird flu?”

“Wait, seriously. You can read that?” Uri’s demeanor took on an assessing quality. “That’s great. But how?”

“I helped my husband study for his Boards,” Angelina replied absently. “Is that why someone burned the farm?”

“Maybe.” Rafe hesitated.

“What about the threat to Angels?” Uri asked softly as he glanced between Rafe and Angelina.

“I will protect her.” Rafe inhaled, his body readied for a fight. They’d have to go through him to get to Angelina and failure wasn’t an option. “I need her.”

He flushed at the double meaning but hoped Uri hadn’t caught that slip.

No luck.

Uri gave him the evil eye. “I can go, too.”

Rafe nodded. “That’s probably a good idea.” Someone needed to save him.

Of course, going to Poland to look at a decimated chicken ranch, to search for the elusive virus that may or may not be infecting humans, should be distraction enough to forget his attraction to Angelina.

He hoped.

***

“What the hell am I doing?” Planning on going to another continent with Rafe. Leaving her children, her sister, her responsibilities back in this house that no longer seemed to fit her.

“Is everything okay honey?” Janine called from the hallway.

“Fine, thanks.” Her sister had jumped all over the idea of taking the kids for a few days. And the kids had defected to Auntie’s camp without a fight.

“Have I been that difficult lately?” she wondered, since they had jumped on the idea to leave her.

“You look...incredible,” Janine said with awe, after stopping in the doorway of Angelina’s bedroom.

Angelina looked down at the simple blue jeans and white cotton shirt. An outfit that would normally garner a lecture on always looking your best when leaving the house. “Thanks, Sis.”

Odd.

“We’re just finishing up the last bit of packing then we’ll be out of your hair.” Janine traipsed out to supervise Lina and Brandt.

Angelina looked in the mirror. She was practically glowing. Her skin gleamed clear and translucent. Her streaked hair was glossy and silky looking. An attractive flush pinked her cheeks and her eyes were bright. But she hadn’t put on any makeup. None.

What was going on?

Could there be some sort of residual effect of the healing gifts that she instinctively healed herself without knowing it?

“We’re off,” Janine called from downstairs.

“Bye Mom,” Lina and Brandt singsonged from the steps.

“Wait!” She ran down the stairs. She wrapped her arms around Brandt hugging him to her, her face smashed against his thin teenage chest. Lina circled her arms around both of them. Lifting her right arm, she snuck underneath so they were entwined together.

“Group hug.” They both giggled.

Love balled and exploded in her chest like a hot comet bursting through space.

“C’mere, Auntie.” Lina beckoned.

And shock of all shocks, her sister joined their little group.

“I love you so much,” Angelina said fiercely.

“Jeez, Mom. We’re only going to be gone for the weekend,” Brandt teased. “It’s not like we’re leaving forever.”

The lump congealed in her throat. “Take care of my babies.” Angelina’s voice trembled.

“Don’t worry about a thing.” Her sister’s palm was soft and gentle on her hair. “We’ll be fine.”

“Yeah. Auntie and I are going shopping,” Lina boasted.

Brandt put in. “And we’re going to Nike Town.”

“And we’re having tea at the St. Francis,” Janine said triumphantly. To which both kids groaned. “Now come on it’s good for you to learn these things.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused and clambered out the door.

The house was silent and morose without them. What had she done? What had she agreed to? Was she crazy? She couldn’t go to Poland on a whim. She couldn’t leave her children. She wanted to run after them except her feet were stuck to the floor, held in place by a sudden inability to move.

She needed to be staying away from Rafe, not going away with him. This was her life. Her children were her priority. What was she thinking to even consider going to Poland with Rafe and Uri? What if something happened?

TWENTY-SIX

Rafe surveyed the destruction.

Even the soil was scorched. Little piles still steamed, lazy trails of gray smoke slithered up to the sky like a snake from a charmer’s basket. The stench of charred carcasses, wood, grass, and some indefinable odor clogged air still thick with smoke and ash.

Someone had not wanted anything to survive. But why?

“Do you smell that?” Rafe scented out the unusual odor.

“Death,” Uri said starkly.

Angelina gagged and bent over. She pulled a scarf from a giant hobo bag and held the vibrant pink fabric to her nose and mouth.

“Are you okay?” Rafe hesitantly pulled her hair back from her face.

“I’ll be fine.”

Rafe searched for energy patterns. All the buildings had been destroyed. The burn area covered miles, with the farm dead center of the destruction. Past the burnt area, rolling hills, green and lush from spring rain, spread for miles. The farm was isolated and remote.

“Do you sense any evidence of the virus here?” Uri banged his palm against his thigh.

“How could we see anything?” Angelina remarked.

“You need to use your other senses.” Rafe walked closer to the remains of large-scale chicken operation. Scattered through the yard, tangles of melted chicken wire lay in twisted metal sculptures. Angelina and Uri followed behind him.

He paused when they reached the place where Lev and Stas had perished. “Rest in peace, old friends.”

Uri knelt down and scraped the scorched dirt with a stick. He sniffed. “Smell it?”

Rafe finally identified the smell. “Ethanol.” The chemical residue from ethanol floated in the air.

Angelina frowned. “I thought ethanol didn’t have an odor.”

“For humans.”

“Your senses should be slightly more enhanced now,” Rafe said. “See if you can smell it.”

Angelina tentatively removed the scarf from her nose and mouth and tried to inhale but the stench was too much and she jammed the cloth back over her face. Gah, it stunk.

“While the gas burned you wouldn’t even see the flames until it hit the wood and animals,” Uri said absently as he studied the soil. “This confirms our original conclusion. This fire was deliberate. But we only have assumptions as to why.”

“And no idea who?” Angelina said with a heavy heart, “What senseless destruction.”

“Not all fire is destructive,” Uri countered.

“What does that mean?” Because this seemed pretty damn destructive to her.

“I am the Archangel of the resurrection flame. I bring renewal, rebirth and rejuvenation.”