Revelation (11 page)

“Why did Michael inject you with my blood?” I ask
, the question coming out harsher than I intend.

He flinches a
t my tone. “I was put in charge of you as your main warden. I needed to be bound to you in order to do my job properly. The blood bond allows me shared access to certain aspects of our connection, enabling me to look out for you better,” he says with trepidation.

I’m lost again. “What connections? How is that
possible? Human blood to human blood is just extra blood in your veins? How does it unite us?”

Asher gives me a sympathetic look. “I can’t answer that now
, siren.”

I sigh, t
ired and agitated. “Why you?” It comes out like an accusation. 

“Why me what?
Why am I the one in charge of you?” he demands, sounding a bit insulted I questioned his position.

“Yes
.” Asher’s eyes dart past me, landing on the windows with a faraway look on his face. This is his tactic when contemplating how to answer me.

Keegan
decides to answer in his place. “Eve, it’s because he’s not mated. If he was, he wouldn’t be allowed to share a blood link with a charge.”

I look at Keegan
, awaiting further explanation. He doesn’t offer any.

“Mated?” I scan the room for an answer before landing back on Asher.

He stands, keeping his eyes fixed on mine as he moves his hand to the hem of his t-shirt. He pulls it up over his muscular stomach, above his taut chest, and off his broad shoulders.
Crap
. Whatever blood was left in my brain just relocated itself to the lower portion of my body.

Oh my
god. I thought Asher was stunning with his shirt on but without, it’s an entirely different ballgame. He swallows his nerves as I take him all in. All I can do is stare at his throat. Watching it move up and down in a sexy motion with each nervous swallow. Finally regaining control of my hormones, my eyes roam over his chest and land on a circular, tribal, dragon tattoo adorning his faultless body over his left pectoral muscle. I’m not sure why but I am completely fixated on it.

In slow motion
, he turns so his back is facing me, allowing me to view a large, black, abstract dragon tattoo that covers his entire back. It’s centered and runs from his shoulders to his waist. The dragon’s head and wings are the only literal elements on the artwork. The rest of the dragon is done in barbed wire designs made to look like flames. It’s stunning.

He turns back to me
, his face guarded. “The tattoo on my back is my clan tattoo. Each one of us has one,” he explains in a gentle manner. “This,” he points to the circular tattoo over his heart area, “is the protector tattoo that was injected with your blood for the bond.”

This
art is equally beautiful. Once again, done in all black, there is an outer circle designed in a barbed wire swerve pattern with points. The inside resembles an abstract yin and yang symbol but is open and airy. The left side conceptually outlines fire and the right side a dragon.

Asher’s eyes and face are cautious as he observes me appraising the work of art. I have the strongest urge to get up and run my hands over the
protector tattoo. It’s drawing me to it, beckoning me to unite with it. I don’t even realize I’ve moved closer to Asher until my hand is tracing the lines of the art, caressing it with the lightest contact.

At my touch, Asher sucks
in a harsh breath and his body shudders. My hand touching the tattoo begins to drown in a warm sensation, heating my entire body. I can’t pull it away, almost as if a force greater than my own will is magnetically holding me there. 

I
have tunnel vision. All I can see is Asher, as if he and I are the only two in the room and everything else fades away. The energy increases between us the longer I have contact with the tattoo.

Without warning
, Callan is behind me, guiding my hand away, helping me lower it. As soon as my hand is released, the warmth and wholeness I felt disappears, leaving me empty and cold. I shiver in withdrawal as Asher’s body jolts in what appears to be pain.

“Easy there
, cutie,” Callan whispers in my ear. 

As if snapping out of a trance
, I returned my gaze to Asher’s. His face shows pure ecstasy, like my touch pleases him more than anything else in the world. His indigo eyes seem to be glowing.

Keegan
speaks in a low, demanding voice. “Drak om in-ex Asher de al grav cal-ort.”  At this command, Asher is released from his entrancement. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, returning a cold, angry look at me.

“What just happened?” I
don’t even recognize my own quivering voice.

“You’
re drawn to the protector mark through the blood bond. When you touch it, it increases the link between you and Asher. Your blood runs through the maze pattern so you’re naturally pulled to it. That’s what allows you two to share connections and emotions, as if mated,” Keegan says emphatically.

Not fully understanding, I focus on something else.
“What language did you just use and what did you say?” I ask Keegan.

His look
is guarded. “It’s our protector’s language. It’s called Garish, an old form of the Gaelic dialogue. I asked the dragon spirit to release Asher from the bond hold, which he was under due to your touch. The longer you’re bonded, the better he’ll control it.”

I look to everyone.
“You all have this tattoo as well?”

They nod
in confirmation. “And the one on Asher’s back?”

“Only Keegan, Callan
, and I have that one. It’s a family crest,” Asher states.

“Each family of protectors ha
s their own distinguishing tattoo. Ours is the dragon symbol. It’s our clan’s identifying protector mark. It also ties us to the dragon spirit, allowing us to guard others and ourselves from evil,” Keegan offers.

“Eves
, in order for Asher to protect you, he needed to bond with you as his charge. Michael provided him a vial of your blood and injected the tattoo with it, allowing Asher to become your primary protector guardian. It’s a very noble and prestigious honor he was bestowed by Michael, The Angelic Council, and The Spiritual Assembly of Protectors,” Callan explains.

“How did Michael even get a
vial of my blood?” I ask, shaking off the spell.

“
Your Aunt Elizabeth. That’s all we can offer. Michael will explain more when he speaks to you,” Keegan states.

“Alright
, then, I guess no answers today on how my Aunt Elizabeth ties into all of this?” I look around at the group. They are avoiding eye contact.
Great, what’s one more secret?

Realization hits me. That’s why we are drawn to one another
. The link to his charge. Hurt floods me. I thought he and I were attracted to one another but it’s all because of the bond.

“That’s how we’
re connected? Why I feel rushes of warmth and energy when we’re near one another,” I whisper in a disheartened voice.

Before Asher can answer, I sigh in defeat.

“Eve,” Asher says gently. “Keegan is correct. Regardless of whatever’s going on in your head right now, it is a great honor for me to be your protector.”

I raise a cold
, hard stare to him. “What are you protecting me from?”

Asher sits on the couch in front of me,
shirt back in place, knees touching mine and returning some of the warmth I lost earlier. He reaches for my hands but then thinks better of it, dropping his before they capture mine. He glances at Keegan, who nods in confirmation for Asher to disclose what it is I am in danger from.

“In th
e dreams you’re having, you mentioned being chased by something called Nero,” he prods. I nod my head in confirmation.

“Nero works for Lucifer. He’s a Belker
. An evil being that appears in the form of smoke and can take the shape and form of man. If provoked, it will strike without mercy.” He pauses, waiting for this information to sink in.

I sit in silence.

“The Barghest, or the rabid dog, is another demonic creature we think was released by Lucifer. He’s a Hellhound sent to track your scent and find out if you are being protected,” Keegan informs me.

Asher takes my ha
nds in his, causing the energy hum to happen again. “Eve, do you understand what we are saying to you?” he asks with a low, gentle tone.

“Are you saying Lucifer and all his demonic beings are after me?” I ask
in a pensive state.

He takes my chin in his hand and lock
s his eyes with mine so deeply I shiver. “Eve, you are the key to the war between Heaven and Hell. To Heaven, you’re the weapon that tips the scale in their favor. To Hell, you’re a danger to every single seed of corruption, evil presence, demonic being, and Lucifer’s entire legion of dark spirits.”

“Oh shit!” It comes out low, in the form of a breath I’ve been holding.

Callan lets out a forced laugh. “Oh shit is right, cutie.”

My eyes dart around the room. “I need to speak to Michael. Now
,” I demand.

10
Revelation

I sit staring at
the fire. I’m numb as the flames dance to their own rhythm, lulling me. Asher has been restlessly pacing the hallway since I came into the library to reflect, alone. Abby walks in. She offers a timid smile and hands me a cup of hot cocoa. “Asher said you prefer the mini marshmallows and dark chocolate.”

Directing her gaze to the fire
, she talks to me as if speaking to a child who just had a nightmare. Only mine is real. “Aria called. She said she sent you several texts so she, and I quote, ‘freaked the fuck out’ at your whereabouts. I let her know you were staying here with us tonight. Might be best given the circumstances.”

“Thanks,” I say in a flat tone.

“Keegan is contacting Michael. He should be here soon.”

“M
mhm,” is all I can manage.

“Listen
, Eve, I know you don’t want to talk to Ash right now, but as your protector, he needs to know you’re okay. Your anxious feelings are bouncing off the shared connection and he’s ready to tear off the door. Please let him sit in here until Michael arrives. Okay?” she coerces.

“Fine,” I
agree. I have no energy for a fight.

“Okay,” she says sadly
, leaving the room as Asher walks in. I put the mug on the coffee table as he sits down next to me.

After a moment of enduring my cold shoulder, he catches me off guard by reaching for m
e and pulling me onto his lap so I’m straddling and facing him.

His fac
e and eyes are sincere. “Talk to me,” he coaxes with a softness I haven’t seen yet.

I stare at his Celtic cross tattoo. “I’m trying to sort it all out. It all sounds
so far-fetched. At the same time, if true, how do I start to embrace this?” I say breathless.

Asher is silent,
his gaze intense and body rigid. He picks up a strand of my hair and begins to play with it, unconscious he’s doing it. “When I first saw you, I was completely captivated. I realized there was something different about my bond to you even before our first interaction. I knew you were my fate and I was created to protect and shelter you. I swear to you, I will do that,” he promises.

I lift my eyes and look
into the layers of his, trying to find a hint of deceit, but there is none. “What am I exactly?”

Asher draws his hand across his brow as if considering his next words
with great care. “I don’t know what you’ll become, but right now, you’re a breathtakingly beautiful and stubborn girl who’s fiercely argumentative, strong willed, and usually someone I want to strangle, yet at the same time, shelter, revere and protect with every fiber of my being. Whatever you become, you’re strong. I’m sure of that. You will succeed.”

I watch him. “How do you know?”

His look is pointed. “You’re a force to be reckoned with, Eve. You’re going to fulfill your destiny and liberate what needs to be set free.”

I scoff. “I can’t escape this
. Wishing it was yesterday and I was normal again won’t make this go away, will it?”

Asher’s
smile falters, his voice serious. “You are not normal. You can’t change your destiny or what you’re fated to do. You need to accept it. Once you do, it will become a part of you. Then your soul will know how to embrace what your heart already knows and your mind will realize is truth.”

I
hold his gaze as I play with the collar on his shirt, unsure of how to respond to his words.

“You are an enchanting
, mystical creature, siren,” he says in awe.

“You’ve called me that before
. Why? What does it mean?”

Indigo eyes meet mine and perfect lips
tilt up sensually. “I’ve nicknamed you siren because it means a dangerous and beautiful creature who lures men with their enchantment. As you have done to me.”

Asher’s eyes dart to my parted lips, his stare
is predatory. I hold my breath. A shiver of anticipation runs through me. His hands grasp my hips, pulling me closer to him as he leans in slowly. A seductive smile tugs at the corners of his lips, vanishing as soon as they brush mine like a caress. I close my eyes, falling into the blissful warmth that is Asher. His lips are so soft.

Warm
hands move up to my face, cupping my cheeks as he tilts my head, deepening the kiss. I open my mouth and allow him to enter. This kiss is gentle and tentative at first, but builds feverishly and rapidly with hunger. He growls, causing me to release a soft mewl.

My hands
clench his shirt as he pulls me closer, yet still not close enough. No one has ever kissed me this passionately before. It’s perfection.

Asher
pulls his head back from me, his breathing ragged. His hands still cup my cheeks. I look into his eyes, which appear to glow, drawing me in. I unclench his shirt and bring my hands to his face. His five o’clock shadow is rough as it graces my palms. Leaning forward, I brush my lips against his again. In response, he pulls me closer. My hands make their way into his soft hair, clutching the strands tightly as he devours my mouth until my lips are swollen and bruised.

“Ah hum. Pardon the interruption but Michael is here,” Callan informs us, amused
at catching us in this predicament.

Asher leans his forehead against mine
. His breath comes out in short pants while I close my eyes, trying to control my rapid heartbeat. My hands close into fists in his hair.

“We’ll be right there,” Asher
says, his voice raspy.

I pray Callan doesn’t notice my blush stained cheeks
, a product of getting caught mauling his brother. Asher pulls my arms away, kissing each of my hands as he repositions me off his lap and standing us up. Shifting in front of me, he links our fingers in a firm hold, moving us toward the door.

“Let’s go
. It’s never good to keep Michael waiting,” he says, his voice evening out.

As I walk past Callan
, he leans over and whispers, “Eves, you’re so cute when you blush.”

Crap, kill me now.
I hide my face in Asher’s back as he pulls me down the hallway and back to the ‘tension room’ to meet an archangel.

***

Asher guides me into the room, my hand still entwined with his.  As we enter, my eyes immediately land on the powerful angel standing by the large window. Michael’s focus is centered on the grounds. His commanding presence humbles me.

H
is dark blond, neck length hair is styled with little effort. His broad shoulders demand your attention and confirm his existence as a heavenly force to be reckoned with. The angel’s warrior stance is intimidating, to say the least. Though he doesn’t look a day over forty.

I take a breath in anticipation as he turns to face me, jade eyes locking onto mine. Nervously
, I study his straight-faced expression and flawless skin. I tighten my hold on Asher as he tugs my hand in a reassuring gesture.

Michael studies me for what feels like forever.
  I’ve moved closer to Asher, intimidated by the ethereal being’s presence. My eyes want to look away, but I can’t.

S
ensing my discomfort, Asher pulls me behind him in a protective position, causing Michael to switch his intense gaze briefly to Asher then back to me. The room is silent. No one is breathing.
Yep, this is officially the tension room
.

Michael walks over to me, stopping in front of Asher
, whom he acknowledges with a curt nod. Asher bows his head in return, no words spoken.

My protector
squeezes my hand before releasing it and placing his on the small of my back, moving the slightest bit to the side to allow the archangel access to me. I bite the inside of my cheek.

Michael reaches his large
, divine hand to my head and places his palm to my forehead, causing my eyes to shut as well as his. The soft palm is held in place for the slightest moment and then he removes it. Jade eyes meet mine, lips tilting up as he mimics the slight bow to me as Asher did to him.

Asher’s hand on my back gently forces me forward, closer to
Michael. Presenting me. “Archangel Michael, warrior of Heaven, it’s my honor to offer you, Eve Collins, daughter of Heaven and whom you’ve graciously bestowed me the honor of protecting.”

Holy shit
. I take a step forward. Not knowing formal angelic protocol, I just stand there hoping it’s not rude. Michael silently scrutinizes me again as if trying to decipher how to address me. The silence is killing me so I decide to take the initiative as verbose as only I can.

“How do I know you’re an
archangel? You don’t glow, have wings, and you’re not wearing white,” I query like an idiot.

To this
, Michael cocks his head to the side. Bewilderment settles on his angelic face as if not understanding what I said. I lift my chin at his examination of my face.

“Child of Heaven, you mock me?” Michael asks
, astonished.

Crap, I’ve insulted him.
Before I can apologize, he begins laughing. Confused, I look around at everyone else. They are smiling now and snickering.

I huff
in anger, not privy to the private joke, and turn my wide eyes back on Michael.

He
offers a warm smile and gives me a paternal look, causing a momentary bout of sadness to flash through me, thinking this is the way my dad would have looked at me if he were alive.

“Come
, Eve.” Michael extends his hand to me. “We have much to discuss.” He motions to the couch and I sit, still reeling from being the ‘laughing stock.’ The divine being surprises me by sitting informally on the coffee table across from me. Now that I look at him, he has an overall casual demeanor.

Asher takes a seat on the couch to my left, Callan to my right. The girls stand near the
fireplace hearth with Keegan.

“Before I begin to explain who and w
hat you are, Eve, let me answer your previous questions. I can assure you I am the Archangel Michael.” He smiles at me, amused. “We don’t glow, have halos, or wear white. Not all the time, at least. I’m afraid that is mankind glamorizing us. I do have wings, which you can see if I want you to. Otherwise, they are retracted and hidden from sight. Any other questions about the myths of the angelic world?” he asks with humor laced in his voice.

I shake my head, voiceless at his laid-back repartee and humor.  He
grins at my reaction.

“Alright then, are there any specific questions you would like to ask me before
we start?” he asks with a sincere tone.

“Yes.”

“Please. I’m happy to answer anything you would like to know.” Sincerity is heavy in his voice.

“Why are you wearing black
pants and a white button down shirt?” I inquire, my tone serious.

H
is laugh is boisterous. “I’m here on your plane so I thought I would dress more appropriately in an attempt to make you comfortable. Similar to what you’re used to seeing,” he answers. 

His black dress pants showcas
e his large, muscular legs. The white button down shirt has the top button open, and he has the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looks more like an older brother of a friend than a divine angel.

“A bit relaxed for a soldier of paradise
,” I jab.

“That
’s the idea,” he replies, his warm eyes twinkling.

“Anything else with regard to physi
cal appearance?” he asks, jesting.

“Not at th
e moment,” I say, chewing the inside of my cheek.

“Wonderful. Then let’s get started by pl
aying catch up. I’ve experienced your visions and realm crossing visits, and the St. Michaels have informed me of your contact with Nero, the Barghest, Lady Finella, and some members of the Declan clan. It would seem you’ve had quite an ordeal,” he states.

I cut him off.
“Wait. You’ve experienced my dreams and realm jumping; how?” I ask, attempting to not freak out.

“When I touched my palm to your forehead
, I was able to pull your visions and the interactions you’ve had with the Barghest and Lady Finella,” the angel explains.

“Well
, that’s a neat little trick,” I shoot off sarcastically.

“Michael, you’ll have to excuse Eve
. She’s still grasping all this and is having a difficult time accepting some of the abilities are true.” Asher tries to cover for my snippy behavior.

I shoot him the death glare.
He just smirks at me in a cocky manner.

Michael turns his soft gaze back to me. “That’s quite alright
, Eve. It’s very understandable. Much of what we tell, and have told you to this point, is far reaching for your acceptance. You’ve grown up a mundane. Therefore, our worlds and ways are foreign to you. We’ll excuse much of the poor behavior you are currently exhibiting for that reason. However, you will show me and the St. Michaels a level of respect. We are here to help, not hinder your learning process. Do you understand?” he reprimands with a gentle tone.