Authors: Nia Shay
When I could no longer stand it, I forced my hand to fist against his chest and pulled it away. The simple motion required so much force I'd have flown backward if not for his hold on me. Thankfully, though, with the contact broken, the pain cut off like a switch.
I sagged against him, weak and gasping in the aftermath. "Any...better?"
"I am well," he replied in an annoyingly steady voice. "And you?"
"No worse than usual." I mentally scolded myself for every time I'd complained about the headaches of managing Dissonance, especially the ones that had included the words
I hate my job.
How quickly I'd let myself forget I'd had far worse gigs. "Sound and fury," I murmured aloud.
"Pardon?"
I didn't repeat it, and he probably wouldn't have understood even if I had. Ever since I'd read that phrase in Macbeth I'd always associated it with this feeling. It was one thing to be selectively psychic--at least the only thoughts I usually heard were Zeph's. But when he and I were truly joined, not just in body or mind but the very essence of our beings, I got a taste of what it was really like to be half angel. And I hated it. I couldn't fathom how to cope with hearing the thoughts and prayers of half the damn city. Except by dissociating large portions of my personality, like he had. Zeph's mind could be a scary place.
"Jandra? Are you sure you're all right?"
I forced my attention back to the matter at hand. "I told you, yes."
That seemed to satisfy him. At least he didn't argue with me anymore. His fingertips brushed the side of my face. "Thank you."
"Whatever." I raised bleary eyes just in time to see his mouth descending on mine.
Our lips met before I could stop him, and once I felt his warmth, I couldn't quite bring myself to try. I ended up moaning into his mouth instead of pulling away. Encouraged, he brushed his tongue across my lower lip, his hands stroking upward over my belly.
My body remembered this--his embrace, his touch. As I arched my back in unbidden reaction, he cupped my breasts, his long fingers splayed and caressing. I gasped, feeling his surge of fierce enjoyment as the pleasure he wrought in my body echoed through his own. Which was just the reminder I needed. I wrenched away from him, hissing, "You are not allowed to touch me that way!"
"I can't help it." Zeph's eyes were violet fire. "When you feel me and I feel you...how am I to resist?"
"Here's a suggestion. How about going away and leaving me alone for the rest of my life? Wasn't that the plan?"
He sighed, his gaze going distant. "I released you because you begged it of me, Jandra, not because I desired it. Your pain was crushing us, and you couldn't seem to heal while you were with me. But now you're whole again, and strong."
"So you've come to break me all over again?" I accused.
"I've no intention of hurting you." He reached for me, but I evaded him. Instead, he pinned me with his gaze as he spoke his greatest lie. "I love you, Jandra."
"No you
don't!"
I shrieked, balling up a fist and darting forward to punch him in the chest. "You don't love anyone or anything. You are
not capable of it!"
"Perhaps that's true." He enfolded my fist in one large hand. "Or perhaps your love has changed me."
The tears came as hot and fast as the resonance of his soul had, and they burned just as deeply. "I never loved you."
He said nothing, merely released me and retreated to the doorway while I wept. As my sobs faded into racking gasps, he cast me a baleful look. "Yet I am the one reviled as a thief of souls."
We emerged from the office some fifteen minutes later, once I'd regained my composure. Fifteen wasn't bad considering the wellspring of energy I'd drawn from Zeph. I'd managed to dispel a bit through my outburst, though I could still feel the raw power churning just beneath the surface of my skin. It made me edgy and moody--a familiar feeling, but not one I relished.
In the heat of our encounter, I'd completely forgotten about the twins. I'd locked them in, of course, so they couldn't very well have left. So much for my plan of a clean getaway. I sighed as they perked up at our approach like a pair of curious puppies. Schooling my expression to nonchalance, I asked, "Did you girls clock out already? I'll unlock the door in a sec."
"Oh, hell no!" Sara squawked, and Cara growled, "We want answers." They emerged from behind the counter as one, Sara angling toward me as Cara advanced on Zeph.
"What's wrong with your eyes?" Sara asked. "They look weird."
They probably did, puffiness notwithstanding. After a transfer of that magnitude, they likely looked almost colorless. I hedged, wondering how to explain it to her, but she'd already looked past me. "And you...what did you do to us before? That was like the baddest of bad trips."
"I apologize," Zeph replied carefully. "Are you feeling better now?"
Cara nodded as she stood toe to toe with him, sizing him up. "Hmm. You're pretty tall, but aren't nephilim supposed to be giants? Like twenty, thirty feet tall?"
"Shut up, Zeph," I snapped as he raised an eyebrow in my direction. To the twins, I added, "I didn't realize you two were so well informed on the topic."
Cara snorted. "Don't look so surprised. It was all over the news a few years back when that dark angel from Israel immigrated to the States. We just didn't know what they looked like, since he wouldn't let the reporters show him on camera."
"As for the book smarts," Sara added, "we were raised Catholic."
"Seriously? I can't imagine."
She giggled. "Believe it. It was pretty scary."
"I'll just bet." I had to laugh at the mental image of the twin terrors in pleated skirts and knee socks. "I guess that explains the rebellious phase, huh?"
"No. Not really." Cara turned serious eyes on me. "We could just as easily have been raised Buddhist, or Muslim, or Satanist. What our parents believe doesn't dictate who we are or what we think."
"True enough. Well, I s'pose I do owe you introductions. Zeph, these are the Wheeler twins. This is Sara, and that's Cara."
The latter stomped her foot. "Damn it, how can you always tell us apart?"
"What's the big deal?" I asked for the hundredth time. "I thought twins hated being mixed up."
"Well, yeah, but life should have a few mysteries, shouldn't it?"
"Your souls look quite different," Zeph explained, his voice soft.
"Okaaaay, there's a mystery for you." Sara arched an eyebrow. "Can you see our souls too, Jade?"
"Souls," I scoffed, drawing a small noise of disapproval from Zeph. "I prefer the word 'azoth.' It sounds way cooler."
Cara frowned. "What's azoth?"
"It's an old term from alchemy, for the animating principle--whatever it is that makes you a moving, thinking person instead of just a pile of bones and organs. Some people call it chi, or sa, or kundalini. Some call it an aura or a soul. And yes, you and Cara have different vibrations. It's not a visual thing. At least not for me."
"What about you?" Sara asked Zeph.
"Yeah, what about you?" Cara went back to eyeballing him. "We never did get your name, by the way."
He inclined his head in greeting. "I am Zephylostravakan...."
"And you'll call him Zeph," I interrupted, "because the whole thing is like twenty syllables long."
"Only twelve, I believe."
"Whatever!" I rolled my eyes at him. "Since we've all made nice now, I need to get Zeph out of here. I'd still rather not risk having him around all these people."
"Mall's closed now, boss." Cara shrugged. "All that's left are the assholes who brighten our workdays with their smiles."
"He's dangerous, huh?" Sara looked doubtful. "How so?"
"Did you really just ask me that? You, who was acting like the PMS Prom Queen just half an hour ago?" I jabbed an accusing finger at Zeph. "It's because of him. 'Unwarded dark angel' equals 'walking insanity factory.' He's lucky he didn't start a riot on his way in here."
He looked askance at me. "I am somewhat aware of my limitations."
"Oh, was that sarcasm?"
"Besides, he's warded now, isn't he?" Cara looked back and forth between us. "You took care of him in the office, right?"
Sara snorted. "God, that sounds filthy."
I glared at them each in turn. "He'll be all right for a while, but I don't know for how long."
"We have time to talk." He flashed a small smile. Clearly, my fondness for the girls had infected him. "They're already aware, Jade. They may as well be informed."
I rolled my eyes at him. "You don't have to call me Jade, stupid. It's just a nickname."
"'Cause she's soooo jaded." Sara giggled.
"Oh, who cares what her name is? We want to be informed!" Cara aped Zeph's sober tone, though she practically danced with impatience.
"All right. Sit down, all of you." I directed them to circle on the carpet like a group of preschoolers before running to grab some sodas from the mini-fridge in my office. Zeph declined his, but once the twins and I were fortified with sugar and caffeine, I began to tell the tale.
"Well, the dark angel who immigrated here isn't the only one on American soil, obviously. You just don't hear about them very often. And most of what you do know is misinformation."
"Of course," Cara grumbled. "Those government bastards cover up all the cool stuff."
I shrugged. "It isn't a cover-up per se. As a matter of fact, there's a federal law on the books stating that a dark angel is subject to prison time if he's active in society without a Warden." I shot a meaningful look at Zeph.
He merely said, "Can you please stop with the offensive terminology?"
"Pardon me--
Watchers
may not be active in society without a Warden. Anyway, that law is a matter of public record. And since you two seem to know a bit about Wardens, I wouldn't say any of this is really hidden. Like I said before, it's just not talked about very often."
"What exactly does a Warden do?" Sara asked. "How did you get to be one, anyway?"
"It's genetic, or so we assume. If you look at the Biblical description of nephilim, which is the definition that's popularly accepted--and inaccurate," I added before Zeph had a chance, "you'll see they were the sons of fallen angels and human women. There's no mention of any daughters born between them, though. That's because we weren't so outwardly different."
"'We?'" Both twins goggled. Cara added, "So you mean you're just like him?"
"Well, no one knows for sure. I shouldn't have said it that way. It's assumed those of us who have the talent to ward are descended from the same gene pool. Wardens are always female--you probably already knew that, huh? Watchers, of course, are always male.
"The difference is, Zeph is the direct offspring of an angel. We Wardens are believed to be distant descendants of an original pairing. The shared DNA makes us able to do our jobs. My abilities are a perfect foil to his, so I can--I used to--keep him in check enough to function safely among humans."
"You never explained what he can do," Sara pointed out. "Why did he make us go all crazy before?"
I waited for him to answer that one on his own behalf, but he just sat there looking mystical. Sighing, I continued. "Well, he can't exactly help it, especially since no one's been taking care of him. His azoth, mojo, whatever you want to call it, is by nature far more intense than a human's. At the same time, dark angels have no emotions of their own, so...."
"I have some emotions," he cut in, frowning.
"
No
emotions," I repeated firmly, "except those they mirror from the people around them. And they can amplify those emotions with their very presence, sometimes to the point that they do permanent damage to people's minds.
"This is where the conflict arises with the Biblical concept, which says Watchers were sent to teach mankind the skills God wanted them to learn. According to their own history, they were sent to keep the peace on Earth. Which fits pretty well with what we know of them, really." I held up a hand, ticking off points on my fingers. "By being emotionless, they were able to maintain impartiality. By being empathic, they were able to tell truth from lies. And by being powerful, they were able to enforce justice absolutely."
"Makes sense." Cara cocked her head at a curious angle. "But in the Bible, weren't the Watchers the angels themselves? The ones who went bad?"
I shrugged. "Like I said, the two stories conflict in a lot of places. Since the modern-day Watchers don't remember much of their origins, the Biblical theory is the accepted one."
"You mean you don't remember where you came from?" Cara frowned at Zeph. "Damn, how old are you?"
Sara gaped at her sister. "Jeez, don't be tactful or anything!"
"It's all right," he said. "She didn't offend me."
"He
can't
be offended," I muttered. "And no one's sure how old they are. The ones alive today were pretty much undocumented before ancient Greek times. Since their history is oral, a lot of it's been lost over the centuries. But it's assumed they inspired some of the mythology from the Greek and Roman periods. Zeph may have lent his name to the Greek god Zephyrus, for example."
"Whoa!" Cara crowed. "So you were around in ancient Greece?"
He smiled thinly. "So I've been told."
"You don't remember?"
"No."
I thought back to the buildings I'd seen in his memories. "I'd believe it." I was no archaeologist, but I knew ancient when I saw it. "The Society thinks they may have been the truth behind the story of the sirens, as well."
"What?" Sara raised an eyebrow at me. "I thought the sirens were female."
I snickered in spite of myself. "Well, if you were a man, and another man drew you to lust after him with nothing more than the sound of his voice, you'd probably change the story too." I cut a quick glare at her. "That's why I told you to turn off the music, by the way. If he'd started singing, we'd all have been in trouble."
She blinked. "You told me to turn off the music? When?"