Angels of Darkness (53 page)

Marc didn't immediately answer. His eyes had narrowed on the demon in the distance, and the power of his Gift became a low, gathering hum against Radha's shields. Strong, overwhelming all of her senses—she could almost
smell
the fresh dirt. Reflexively, she looked down.

His feet were bare, toes digging into the frozen soil.

“Radha,” he said, “he's about to fly over an empty field, do you see?”

Flat, covered with snow. “Yes.”

“Create an illusion that duplicates that entire area. The field, the sky, everything in between. Anybody who looks in that direction has to see the same thing they would now. Ready?”

The field, the sky, everything in between.
Was he serious?

Her heart pounding, she created the illusion. “Yes.”

The gathering hum of his Gift suddenly wound higher, a controlled thrust of incredible power against her shields. The entire field erupted upward in a long column, as if pushed from below by a giant hand into a rectangular tower of dirt and stone—directly beneath the demon. The field at the top of the tower hinged like an enormous jaw. Unable to avoid it, the demon stopped flying, sword drawn, as the earthen mouth opened around its body. Hundreds of tons of soil and stone snapped together.

Maybe
thousands
of tons.

“Marc.” She breathed his name, awed. She'd never seen anything like his Gift. “Marc.”

“Keep the illusion up,” he said softly.

The tower receded again, carrying the crushed demon back to earth. The field returned to its proper altitude, but the thrust of his Gift continued, hardening now against her shields, no longer smelling of soil but of molten stone.

Then hotter, and his Gift pressed like a burning, heavy weight against her tongue. “What are you doing?”

“Burying the demon.”

Far enough that it affected the sensation of his Gift? Past the Earth's crust? But she shouldn't have been surprised, she realized. She'd believed his Gift had fit him, the young farmer that he'd once been; she just hadn't known how well. But he was solid, so strong—and he burned within, too.

“How deep?”

“Deep. It's not Hell, but it's hot, and—he's vaporized now. There's nothing left to keep burying.” He glanced at her, and his eyes were glowing. “Keep holding the illusion on the field.”

This time the thrust of his Gift held a delicate edge, was more than just pure power. The field lifted again, but not in a solid tower. Columned temples formed from dark soil and stone. Elegant domes rose, covered in snow. Thin spires speared into the sky.

A smaller version of Caelum, replicated—and just as beautiful in dirt and snow as it was in marble. She hadn't realized how much she needed to see the Guardians' city whole again. Sweet, painful emotion filled her chest, and she reached for his hand.

“Thank you.”

“I hoped you'd like it.” A hint of laughter entered his voice. “Now look away, because I have to bring it down again.”

No, that didn't matter. It wouldn't bother her or remind her of how much it had hurt to see Caelum in ruins. The important thing wasn't that Caelum had crumbled—but that it could be rebuilt again. Like a friendship. Maybe like love.

She looked up at him as the touch of his Gift receded. His arm circled her waist, and he drew her against his hard chest.

“Are you still invisible?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Am I?”

“No.”

“So that's why everyone who drives by is looking at me like that.”

Radha laughed. Barefoot, and holding an invisible woman. “Yes.”

“Was it fun, at least?”

“Oh, yes.”

And this was definitely like love. Not that she was rushing into anything. No, she'd just put it off for a hundred and forty years—and somehow, she hadn't lost him in that time.

“All those idiots who ascended,” she said softly, “I'm glad you weren't one of them.”

His eyes glowed. “I had a bit of Heaven once. It wouldn't have been half as good without you there.”

“Especially if you're really being probed on a spaceship,” she said, and while he laughed she leaped up into his arms, wrapping her legs around him. Her lips found his, tasted, before breaking away again. “You look respectable now. No one will know that I'm about to rip off your clothes, back you up against that shop wall, and ride you until we both have our own little Ascension.”

His body instantly hardened. His big hands swept up the length of her thighs. “Not for a month.”

Radha would never be satisfied with that. And neither, she determined, would Marc be. She slipped the tip of her finger into her mouth, lightly sucked, and sent the sensation spiraling down. He shook with pleasure, closed his eyes.

“A week,” he said, and Radha grinned, perfectly satisfied.

Then he lowered his mouth to hers and began to satisfy her again.