Angel's Shield (11 page)

Does he know he’s insanely gorgeous?
Charmeine wondered, having trouble
concentrating. She was still having trouble tearing her gaze from the muscles
of his chest. She remembered all too well what that body had felt like against
her back as he made love to her.

“Go on, try to shift,” he encouraged, oblivious to her wandering
thoughts.

She forced herself to pay attention to her body. She lifted her
arms in front of her, staring at the marks on her skin. They were weird.
Unfamiliar. She touched one, tracing her finger up the swirls. As she relaxed,
getting used to the way her forearms looked now, she sensed a curious unfolding
in her center. It began at her sternum and moved downwards and in, deep inside
her body. Before she really understood what was happening, her wings shifted
out into the morning light.

“Ah, beautiful,” Jeremiel murmured, smiling. “Let them stretch.”

She did as he asked, tipping her head back to examine the feathers
above her head. The smoky grey, white, brown, and blue colors fluttered in the
light breeze. It felt good to open them. “You know, I already flew once. Last
night,” she said, moving her wings around.

He nodded and moved closer. “I know, but that was an emergency. It’s
always better to go through the whole thing consciously at least once, so you
know how everything works.” He shook out his wings, floating off the ground
slightly. “Flying for us is instinctive. Natural. We don’t use our wings quite
like birds do because we can draw the energy of the winds into our beings, not
just float on air currents.” He floated higher. “We sense the air and sky and
use it to become one with God’s creation.”

She watched him move higher and higher, then let herself go. Her
feet left the ground. It was as easy as opening a fist. As easy as feeling the
wind in her hair. “Good thing I’m not afraid of heights,” she said cheekily.

He laughed. “That’s pretty rare for angels.”

She blinked, still disconcerted at how easily he referred to her
as one of them. “What’s next?”

He opened his arms and went higher. “Now, you learn to fly.”

She floated higher, wanting to keep up with him. “Isn’t that what
we’re doing?”

“We don’t need the wind to float, but we use it to soar. Let the
air flow through your wings and you’ll begin to sense what I mean. All you have
to do is let yourself be free.” He tilted his body, grinning. “I feel a
thermal.” He soared away, heading for the ridge that stretched behind her
property.

“Fly. Let myself feel it,” she murmured, flexing her muscles. Her
wings swayed gently, feeling less and less awkward and more like they’d always
been part of her, hiding in the midst of her humanity. She looked up, taking in
the blue sky that stretched to infinity above her.
This is truly a taste of
heaven,
she mused, skin tingling. When the thermal caught her primaries,
she let it lift her into the great unknown.

Chapter Nine

Haniel watched his two lovers fly off. When they disappeared over
the mountain, he finally let out the grimace he’d been holding back for the
past fifteen minutes. The moment Jeremiel had talked Charmeine into shifting,
his stupid body had rebelled and begun trying to force him to shift.
If only I could,
he thought bitterly,
clenching his teeth as another wave of pain moved through him. Usually, he
could go at least a month and a half without suffering through the urge to
shift, but not this time. Most angels knew better than to let their bodies and
instincts take over and force the shift to happen, but he had no choice but to
suffer this again and again.
I’d give
almost anything to fly, especially if it meant I could soar the skies with
Charmeine and Jeremiel both.
Of course, that would never happen. He had to
get used to reality. Accept it, for once and all, but it was difficult when the
pain that tormented him was both physical and mental.

“God, please help me,” he gasped, going to his knees. The urge to get
somewhere high and just jump, maybe end his pain forever, felt like a burning
ember tickling at the back of his spine. And he knew the feeling was only going
to get worse. He wanted to shift, desperately, but his body was damaged beyond
repair. He usually didn’t remember much of what happened because the pain was
so intense. If it would’ve helped, he’d have carved off his skin years ago, but
he knew there was nothing he could do.

He groaned, rolling onto his back so he could feel the grass on
his skin. It helped a little. He could feel the dirt and see the sky. Before he
could take a breath, though, the craving returned. His shoulders knotted and he
cried out, rolling so that he could curl up into a ball. His spine tightened
and then the failed shifting began. His right arm burned as his skin writhed,
trying futilely to change.

He bit his wrist, concentrating on that for a while, but soon the
agony overtook him and he shuddered, tears coming from his eyes. He didn’t
notice his wet cheeks. Didn’t see his lovers finding him on the ground.
He
couldn’t
notice anything
except the burning pain consuming his body and mind. When cool fingers touched
his face, he sobbed, barely aware.

****

“Oh my God, Jeremiel. What’s wrong with him?” Charmeine dropped to
her knees, not caring that her shoulders ached or that her wings dragged in the
grass. She’d tired herself out, riding the thermals with Jeremiel, but none of
that mattered now. Haniel was on the ground, face screwed up into a rictus of
pain.

“Shit,” Jeremiel muttered. “It’s too early for this.” He smoothed
back Haniel’s blonde hair.

“What’s too early?” She grabbed Haniel’s hand, hoping to soothe him
with her presence, but had to extract her fingers when he squeezed tight enough
to snap her bones. “Why is he like this? And don’t brush me off this time. I
need to know.”

“He was burned by demon fire a couple years ago. It damaged
something in him, something deep inside that couldn’t be fixed. Our healer, the
Omega Raphael, healed his skin, but he couldn’t repair his wings. That’s why he
doesn’t have any legacy marks on his right arm,” Jeremiel explained softly.
“That’s why we’ve been wandering around, hunting demons. It’s the only thing
that gives him peace.” He glanced at her, face softening. “The only thing that
gave
him peace, until we met you.”

“Oh God, that means he goes through this every month?” She was
horrified. Jeremiel had explained that she’d have to remember to shift at least
once a month, or her body would do it for her, and probably at a really
inconvenient time. Instinct took over when the conscious mind denied what it
needed.

“Yeah, usually. But he already went through this just a couple
weeks ago. It’s too soon.” He tried to straighten out Haniel’s arms, but the
angel resisted, groaning as if he was being beaten.

Charmeine bit her lip. “What can we do?”

Jeremiel shook his head. “Nothing. Just be there for him when it’s
over.”

“What? Nothing at all?” Her instincts screamed at her to help. She’d
given them her virginity. Her trust. When she’d least expected it, Haniel and
Jeremiel had arrived in her life and cracked open the doors of her heart. She’d
never imagined meeting them, or falling so hard for not one, but two guys. She’d
been treading water through her life, letting the waves take her where they
wanted, but now that she’d finally, maybe, fallen in love, it killed her to see
one of her lovers hurting so bad. “Jeremiel, I don’t know if I can do nothing.”
She ran a hand down Haniel’s back.

“I know. Believe me, I know,” Jeremiel replied, running a hand
through his hair. He looked just as wrecked as she felt. When the ring of a
cell phone interrupted them, she flinched.

“Shit. It’s my phone. It’s still in Haniel’s pocket.” He retrieved
it carefully and looked at the screen.

“Who is it?”

“Our Alpha. Gabriel. I have to take it,” he shot her an agonized
glance. She nodded, understanding. The angels had far larger problems than one
injured male. Jeremiel tapped the device and answered the call.

Charmeine kept up the soothing massage, hoping that it would help
Haniel, if only a little. Jeremiel turned away a little, but she could still
see him frown.
It must not be good news,
she mused, thinking about what
he’d told her about the angels. Gabriel was their leader, the Alpha. Their
healer, Raphael, was their Omega and Gabriel’s mate. Gabriel’s sister, Ariel,
was mated to Suriel the Sorcerer, and she was both a sorceress and Gabriel’s
second. The last angels he mentioned were Zeke and Nathaniel, mated blades
masters. They were the ones who’d created his and Haniel’s weapons.

I wish I’d had a weapon,
she thought, glancing at the remains of her house. A pang of
grief caught her off guard. All of her memories of her grandmother were in that
house, as well as the only photos she had of her mother and her father. That
was all gone now.

Jeremiel shoved the phone into his pocket violently enough to
distract her from her dark thoughts. She stilled her hand for a moment. “What
happened?” Haniel’s muscles knotted tighter beneath her fingers, almost as if
he already knew what Jeremiel was going to say. His face, however, gave no
indication of cognizance. He was still lost in the pain.

“Demons are massing on Castle Archangel,” he said shortly.

“What does that mean?”

“It means we need to get there as quickly as possible. They need
anyone who can swing a blade to help defend our home and our People.” He shook
his head, blue eyes dark. “If the castle falls, so does our ability to stand
against the darkness. The stones of that place are in our blood. If it fell,
its loss would demoralize all the remaining angels and probably spur a
mass-fading.”

Charmeine stared at him, aghast. “You mean they would kill
themselves.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“We can’t let that happen,” she said, slowly. But what would they
do about Haniel? She and Jeremiel could fly, but he couldn’t, not anymore.

“No, we can’t let that happen,” Haniel said, his voice tight with
agony.

She whipped her head down. He was still not well, but the look in
his eyes told her he’d heard every word. “Shh. Don’t worry about it,” she said,
trying to soothe him.

“You’ll have to leave me behind,” he ground out.

“What? No!” Jeremiel clenched his fists. “I would never do that to
you. Never. And neither would Charmeine.”

Charmeine agreed. “There has to be another way.” She couldn’t
fathom how Haniel managed to speak. Clearly, the pain was still intense,
judging by his body’s involuntary twitches. She wished she could take the agony
away.

“We need to defend our people,” he said, gasping as his muscles
cramped again. “They need our shield. You
have
to go.” He panted for
air. “Too… important.”

Jeremiel shook his head. “The shield won’t work without you.”

Haniel grunted, straining to speak, but Charmeine interrupted him,
laying her fingers on his mouth.

“We’ll carry you.” She looked up at Jeremiel, sliding her palm
down to cup Haniel’s cheek. Stubble tickled her palm. “We can carry him.”

“Crazy,” Haniel gasped, wheezing.

Charmeine was about to argue, but when she looked at his face, she
realized he was laughing. Laughing!

“She’s right. We’ll carry you.” Jeremiel rubbed his face. “As soon
as this episode is over.”

“It’s easing,” Haniel breathed. His shoulders suddenly relaxed and
Charmeine had to scramble to keep touching him. She ended up crouched over him.
His hazel eyes blinked up at her and he managed to snag one of her curls in his
fingers. “Beautiful.”

She smiled, a rush of relief flooding through her. “You’re going
to be okay.”

“That was a lot shorter than the last one,” Jeremiel said softly.
He sounded as relieved as she felt.

“It was.” Haniel took a deep breath. “Ahhh, almost better. I don’t
know why it was shorter. I don’t think I care.”

“Maybe God answered my prayers,” Charmeine murmured.

Jeremiel and Haniel exchanged glances. “Stranger things have
happened,” he said, holding Haniel’s gaze.

****

“This is crazy,” Haniel said, laughing. Charmeine held his right
arm, and Jeremiel had his left. They floated about five feet above ground. The
best part was that he could still feel the winds in his soul. He hadn’t lost
any of his instincts about flying, just the physical ability.

“I don’t understand why you can’t float. If our wings only serve
to direct us, why can’t you at least move off the ground?” Charmeine said,
swaying a little in the breeze.

“I think something more was destroyed when I was burned,” Haniel
said, feeling giddy. They were just over the tree tops now. “My arm looks fine,
but I felt the burns all the way to the bone. I even felt it inside my gut and
my spine. Between my shoulders.” He shook his head. “I can’t explain it.”

“We should get moving,” Jeremiel said tensely.

Haniel glanced at him and nodded, tamping down his elation at
being in the air. He’d tried flying in airplanes and helicopters, even once in
a glider, but they never felt right. This, however, felt good. It felt like he’d
come home.
Except if they let go you’re toast,
he reminded himself
grimly. That thought dashed the last of his joy.