Summon Toren (Archangels Creed #3) (5 page)

Serious discussion with the man seemed to be a colossal waste of time. No matter, as long as he did what she needed him to. She put the truck in gear and pulled onto the rough track that would take them to the next hay shed a few miles away on another tract of land.

The going was slow when they drew near. Small bunches of cattle, recognizing the truck as a feed delivery system, began to drift along behind them. She cut their speed so the cattle could keep up. The more the animals were gathered, the better their chances of survival.

Finally they rounded the shoulder of the low forested hill and came within view of the shed. An odd glow surrounded the steel frame building—not really a building, just a
slanted roof on steel support posts and secured with woven fencing around the sides to protect the hay from lazy stock. Sam floored the accelerator, a sick greasy feeling creeping over her. That glow didn't come from anything good.

Toren straightened in his seat and looked closely toward the light. "Fire?"

"That's what it looks like."

The man actually had the sense to stay silent.

She skidded the truck around the side of the shed and ground to a stop, the tires throwing snow in a huge arc. Shoving her door open, she jumped from the truck before it came to a full halt and hit a dead run for the blaze.

Flames licked all along the
flank of the shed, creeping along the exposed side of the hay. It hadn't been burning long enough to penetrate the tightly packed interior of the bales, so if they could get it extinguished, most of the hay would be saved.

Toren's feet pounded the frozen ground right behind her, then a big hand settled on her shoulder and propelled her downward with enough force to drop a steer.

"What the hell?" she growled as she spun out of his hold.

"Samantha, you can't run straight into a fire with no plan. Sixty seconds won't make a difference to the fire, but it might keep you alive." His silver eyes flashed and the easy-going guy was gone, replaced by a hard-ass who would tolerate no
disagreement. 

For once she followed orders without arguing. He stood beside her, peering into the flames, listening to the crackle and roar, trying to figure a way to save the hay.

The origin was easy enough to spot. The old tractor they kept parked there to move the giant bales was almost completely engulfed. Some idiot had left it primed so it would be easier to get started next time.

She moved closer, looking for a safe way to gain access and Toren grabbed hold of her arm. Her mind seemed to interpret it as a lifeline and didn’t protest. "If we can get a tow chain on the tractor, I can drag it out with the truck." 

Toren immediately went for the chain covering ground fast. Sam moved a little closer to the tractor in search of a way to hook on. Leaning down, head nearly on the ground, she pinpointed what she needed in the form of the draw bar attached to the rear lift arms. Normally a wagon or other implement would be hitched there, so it should hold to tow the tractor.

An odd sound caught her attention and she froze as a heartrending cry split the
smoky dark. Without thinking, Sam shot toward the shed, heading for the corner, ignoring Toren’s booming command to stop.

The pitiful bleating spurred her onward. She didn't even slow for the fence, just launched herself across to land in the burning chaff strewn over the ground.

Toren yelled her name, the sound closer. She ripped her coat off as she dropped to her knees and threw it over the tiny bundle that trembled and whimpered as smoke made breathing nearly impossible.

She thrust her arms under the calf and heaved, lifting it chest high and turned to stumble back toward the fence.

Toren lunged for her as burning hay tangled around her feet and dragged her to her knees. Flame erupted on her pant leg and seared her skin. The bolt of pain drew a scream from her and filled her lungs with furnace hot air.

Her vision went spotty from lack of oxygen as she fought to regain her feet, refusing to let go of the now silent and limp calf. An iron grasp surrounded her, squeezing hard. She halfway sensed movement all around before everything slowly went black. An irresistible something pulled, forcing her to follow into the darkness, compelling her to sleep.

Ice cold air poured into her lungs and she fought to open her eyes.

"Samantha! Stay with me!"

Gentle fingers touched and stroked her face and she managed to pry her eyes open. Twin points of silver light hovered above her, drawing her back from the inky abyss that pulled at her. The hope and caring within that swirling illumination held her and the oddest sense of déjà vu came over her, as if she'd done it all before.

CHAPTER FIVE

The right side of Lucian’s face throbbed again. He stood and paced the cramped common room of their latest hideout, wanting more answers. “So you’re telling us that the devil is-is
tweaking
these monsters until they achieve a version that can hide next door to infiltrate mankind and be like these pimps of evil? And no one has a clue.”

Dorn poured himself a cup of coffee. “That’s correct. His mission is the same as it’s always been; lead mankind into a binding contract with sin. Only he’s using these creatures to accelerate the evil and cut into the time
humans are given with the plan of salvation.”

Lucian stared at the angel that now looked nearly human in his black jeans and aquamarine colored button up shirt. No, he looked completely human. Except for those insane eyes that ranged from the lightest color of aquamarine to the darkest. Lucian tied the change down to Dorn’s emotions; when the angel was pissed, his eyes were the brightest blue, when he was around Sally, they were an intense blue.

“Like that girl at the gas station?” Devyn’s feet wagged at a nervous speed on the coffee table.

“Yes, precisely,” Kassern said from the little kitchen table. “That one was their most advanced, I’m told. The problem is the shift. They can’t control it well enough. And since the enemy must remain out of the public eye for his plan to be effective, he can’t use these beings until their cloaking ability is guaranteed.”

Troy helped himself to coffee as well. “Why out of the public eye?”

Kassern welcomed Karly into his lap. “Because if humanity knows there is a Satan out there scheming and planning and trying to make them do bad things, then they’ll quit fighting
each other and realize they need to start fighting him. And when that happens, it sends people running to God for help. The Enemy can’t have that, now can he?”

“Huh.” Karly
tilted her head as if the information were new, instead of just the perspective. “So his plan is to just make bad people badder?”

“Yes.” Kassern kissed her cheek and she smiled, leaning into it.

Jessie called Lucian with her finger and he sat next to her on the green leather couch. “What about the good people?” The whole thing left a sick lump in the pit of his stomach. Just a few weeks back, he would never have imagined humans being positioned for a global chess match between good and evil.

Dorn sat next to Sally on the opposite side of the couch. “We do just what he’s doing.”

“But by the time you form the twelve warriors,” Troy said, “it’ll be anarchy. At the pace they're going, they'll be so far ahead we'll never catch up.”

“We have other warriors waiting on standby to be used,” Kassern said.

All eyes turned to him at that news. Even Dorn seemed unsure what he meant.

“People of faith
." Kassern shrugged, as if it should be their first thought. “They’re willing soldiers, ready for action. We may have fewer, but because of their faith, we don’t have to hide from them or seduce them into battle. We flash our heavenly credentials, tell them what’s going on, and mobilize them.”

The thought of sending ordinary people against things like the monkey men, or whatever Leo had become, sent a chill down Lucian's spine.
Oh wait. They had angels to fight their battles. “What about this Pope business? How are we supposed to get Jessie an audience while we’re in Montana?”

“We’re going to arrange for him to need to visit America, that’s how.” Kassern took Karly's left hand in his, toying with the broad
ruby band on her third finger. "I'm sure there are any number of social issues he might find relevant to believers if he thinks about it. We just put a bug in his ear."

“Then what do I do?” Jessie sounded like the
fate of the world had been dropped squarely on her shoulders and Lucian didn’t like that.

“Then you let your powers guide you.” Dorn sipped at his coffee, clearly enjoying his new vice. “I’ll help you learn to tap into it.”

“And the new archangel?” Karly asked him. “Didn’t you say we needed to stay close for the forming of his trium…quadumvirate?”

“We can get to him in a moment baby.” Kassern tilted her hand, studying the glint of light fracturing from the countless rubies embedded in her ring.

“What if we get separated again somehow?” Lucian moved as if to stand, but Jessie's touch settled him back beside her. “We don’t have enough control over our powers to guarantee anything. The last time we tried, we either overshot or failed entirely.”

“We’ll have to spend some time training you. We’ll do that for the next week and pray Toren forms his
quad in a timely fashion.”

“What about…” Devyn pointed to the room down the hall. “Those things?”

Dorn and Kassern exchanged glances that didn’t make Lucian feel safe. “Not sure yet,” Kassern said.

“And what about these marks on all of us,” Lucian said. “The right side of my face throbs from whatever happened, surely that can’t be good. What if they have some kind of way to track me like with Sally?”

Dorn put his perfect bare foot on his knee. “It’s not a tie, but it is a doorway. That means you have control over whether it stays shut or not. When it’s open, spiritual traffic of all kinds are free to pass. The key that opens it is sin. So stay pure.”

Lucian choked. “Stay pure? As in perfect?”
Images of himself and Jessie making love flowed through his mind. The things he did to her and her to him…surely that wasn’t pure. If it were, so many wouldn’t believe it was dirty. And if that were the case, they were doomed.

“
No, not perfect,” Kassern said. “As in if you fall down, you get your ass promptly back up.”

“So how and when do we start training us and those other things in there?” Karly wondered as Kassern returned his attention to her hand.

“I’d say we need to all get stronger before we start.”

“Like how?” Lucian asked.

“Coitus.”

An awkward silence filled the
air just as a man in a white robe materialized in the center of the room.

Kassern was the first to stand and Lucian recognized him as the one that took a sample of Karly’s injury. “You have news?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have enough to be certain,” the man said. “I’m requesting she be hospitalized for a few days to run tests we’ve set up.”

Kassern began speaking in another language, not sounding happy. The man responded in another language as well, the same, Lucian assumed, only his voice was a wisp of silk.

Kassern’s eyes slowly closed and he let out a heavy sigh. “When do I bring her?”

“I will send word as soon as they are ready for her.”
The man nodded as his physical presence seemed swiped away.

Lucian had forgotten about Karly’s bite. She was another possible link to the dark. This was stupid. “I’m guessing our lives will be at constant risk during this entire debacle.”

“A certainty,” Dorn said. “To prevent a triumvirate from forming is their first priority. If they fail at that that, destroying them once they’re formed is their second.”

“How can they do that?” Jessie
asked.

“By getting us to sin,” Troy said. “When we sin, our strength levels fall.” 

Lucian remembered the battle at the hotel. “Does this apply to the angels?”

“Especially
,” Dorn said.

Kassern took Karly’s hand and began leading her out the room. “Don’t disturb us unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Lucian’s brows raised and he looked at Jessie to see what she thought of that. When he found a pink flush in her cheeks, his body responded. He would do anything the angels said, even things he'd always thought sinful. Especially things that felt as right as making love to the woman he loved with all his soul. He leaned to her ear. “Wanna go build our strength?”

She smiled and nodded barely and Lucian made the same exit as Kassern and Karly had, his parting words quite similar.

CHAPTER SIX

Toren was extremely proficient with chaos and unpredictability. In fact, it was his specialty. But the second Samantha passed out in his arms, his outstanding mercury counterpart scattered to the four winds, leaving him confused and spinning in every direction
with no clue which way to turn. He figured it all had something to do with the highly unforeseen problem of him being
distracted
by her beauty, wit, and charm.

Toren mentally tossed his mercury shield aside like a jammed pistol and hurried to the truck with her. “Stay with me Samantha. Wake up.” He laid her on the seat of the truck and shut the door. The storm was on them. He didn’t have a second to waste, he needed to get her back to the ranch and see about whatever burns she had.

He jumped into the truck and tried to recall the exact details of what she’d done to make the contraption move. The temptation to scan it with his mind and let his mercury properties—if they cooperated—fuse him with the machine was nearly irresistible. Too bad doing so would send a big old red flare up for every demon in the country. Instead he forced his mind to slow down and focus.

Toren turned the key and worked the thing into gear after three tries only to have it jolt hard with a nasty grinding sound and sputter to death. He took a deep breath and tried again and finally succeeded in making the machine move a little.

Far slower than he wanted, he maneuvered it around to head back the way they'd come. Except the road was officially
gone.
He scanned the solid white blanket around them then looked down at her dark form on the seat. In the past few minutes he’d had to remind himself a dozen times not to use his angelic powers; to put out the fire, stop her in her tracks, heal her burns, still the storm. Maybe if he hadn’t been so busy needing to be an angel, he could’ve actually assisted her. It didn't help that his mercury seemed to be conforming to everything all at once, like an eager child in a candy shop, making it impossible for Toren to think quickly.

Toren drove slowly. If he went off the road, he didn’t want to hurt her. He'd never get them all the way back to ranch that way. The temptation to once more curse the
demonic war that prevented him from just grabbing her up and flashing them to safety rose again.

The snow fell so heavily he could only see a few yards ahead without resorting to angelic sight. A dark hulking form hung just at the edge of his vision and finally took shape. The cabin Samantha pointed out on their way in waited just out of reach for an eternity.

When it heaved out of the snow to appear in front of the truck, it happened with startling suddenness and forced him to stomp the pedal that stopped the truck. Metal groaned as the thing's front end nearly plowed into the ground. Frigid air abruptly surrounded his foot, prompting him to look down.

Damn. Who knew human machinery was so fragile? His foot hung through a hole in the floor where he'd shoved the stopping mechanism all the way through. Didn't matter. He'd managed to get Samantha to shelter. If only it were safe.

Toren skidded through the falling snow into the cabin to clear a path and make sure it wasn’t already occupied. The dark one room cabin was cold and empty. Perfect. A metallic glint beside the door drew his attention to an object he recognized from TV westerns as a lantern sitting on a little table. The box of matches sat beside it and he only wasted two before he managed to light the lantern by mimicking what he'd seen on TV.

Satisfied with his progress for the moment, he went back to the truck for Samantha. He sacrificed a little gentleness in the interest of speed and lifted her close to his chest to block the harrowing wind and darted for the door.

Inside, he nudged the door carefully closed and got her to the bed. With care, he laid her down, his nose stinging with the disgusting male human scent permeating the blanket. Whoever had last lain there hadn't bothered with bathing, or been particular about the company he kept, judging from the vague hint of sulfur lingering in the blanket.

Tremors wracked Samantha's slight body and Toren remembered the cold. Lacking human vulnerabilities would require him to stay sharp so he didn’t neglect any of hers. In a matter of minutes, he had a nice fire built in the little round cast-iron stove with wood he’d found stored in the far corner of the room. Fire was extremely important for the heat it offered her and it could also be a quick, undetectable portal for him if it should become necessary.

And to think, Kassern, Dorn and the others had ridiculed him for watching all those old Westerns. Toren couldn't wait to tell them how useful that waste of time had been. Without it, he'd have been ignorant of how to make that little cabin habitable for Samantha.

Toren paced the room, thinking with minimal capacity and effort so as not to spark any spiritual fires that might light up his location to any demon within range. His body felt harnessed in an unfamiliar, uncomfortable way. Of course it had something to do with not knowing exactly what Samantha needed and how to provide it without using his powers. Why hadn’t he anticipated such a scenario? He’d been too preoccupied with how to convince her to marry him to consider the elements of everyday life, that’s how.
Definitely something to note for whichever archangel followed him.

He stood over her for a moment. Why was she still shaking? The fire had warmed the room appreciably and her breath no longer created steam plumes in the air. At a loss for what to do, he pushed a lock of hair off her forehead, his fingers brushing her skin. Unless he was mistaken, she felt far hotter than she should. He double checked and found her burning up.

Didn't that usually mean they were sick? His heart slammed against his ribs. No. he hadn't coaxed her back from the brink of death after her ordeal with the demon, and then dragged her from a fire and through a blizzard just to lose her to some germ. Determination focused his mind.

What caused the fever? Shock from the cold or her injuries? Or had the flu epidemic chosen the worst moment to strike? He put his face to hers to ascertain as much as he could naturally. Over a hundred degrees. So damn quickly. Amazing that such a fragile and vulnerable species had ever prospered
and survived while far sturdier species of hominids had fallen prey to a simple inability to adapt. Perhaps one day humans might realize how the components of evolutionary theory and natural selection worked within the paradigm of Creation. Then they could focus on learning about the strengths to be found in understanding the unknown.

The thought of Samantha's fragility reminded him of her hauling that big bright orange bag.
Emergency gear
, she’d said. Toren stopped wondering and ran to get it. He yanked out a smaller red bag labeled
First Aid
that sat right on top. Thanks to Uriel, he knew at least the basics of human needs and functions.   

He examined all the contents of the small bag, only to find none of it of obvious use. Frustrated, he resorted to reading the damn packages, instead of just using his senses and determining what Samantha needed.
Being hobbled by the need for secrecy was becoming a serious handicap. Toren had a new healthy respect for the common guardians that looked after the frail species.

He bit open the pack that had the words fever reducer and dumped the two little red and yellow pills into his palm and paused. She would need—
The food container had drinks.

He ran to the truck and got it.
The snow fell even heavier than earlier, having already entirely obscured his tracks. Trying to plan more than a few seconds ahead for the first time since the blizzard began, he quickly ransacked the truck and grabbed every item he found that looked even remotely useful. If the snow kept falling at that rate, he might not manage to get back to the truck under purely human power. Just pushing the cabin door open against the accumulated snow had been a real task.

The heavy plank dropped into the brackets by the door to secure the entry, keeping the storm
, and everything else, out. Toren moved fluidly to the bed and set his burden down. Sliding a bottle of water from the food carrier, he stopped to think. How would he get her to drink it while unconscious?

He could lift her head and shoulders and maybe she would drink when he put the bottle to her lips. He slid one arm under her shoulders and found her clothes were wet. Not dripping of course, but damp enough to be uncomfortable and cold. Combined with the fever, it seemed likely to cause worse problems. He could dry the clothes
over the stove. She could stay covered with… what? That disgusting blanket? Unthinkable. The idea of it touching her made his skin crawl.

Toren stood and removed all his clothes except the layer the store clerk had called underwear. Everything was dry but his coat and he hung
that over the stove. As soon as it dried, it’d make a good cover and until then, he’d use his shirt to cover her and leave her…underwear on. Surely she had the same as him. Except for the female kind, of course.

The elemental mercury in his body, already heated by the room’s temperature and exerting its influence upon his psyche, became hotter. With no time to waste, Toren gave himself a stern reminder to maintain control. He sat on the edge of the bed and lifted Samantha's arm. It took some maneuvering but he eventually managed to get it out of the sleeve, then repeated the operation on the other side. Satisfied with the result, he raised her upper body up and tugged the coat from behind her, only to find it trapped under her lower body. After a moment of consternation, he gently leaned her to her side and worked the garment out from under her.

Now for her shirt. And then…pants. Maybe he could wake her and explain what he was doing so she didn’t wake up and think he was molesting her. “Samantha? Hey, Samantha, can you hear me?” He took her hand between his and tapped firmly. “Samantha, wake up. I need to get you out of your wet clothes. I’m going to put mine on you. They’re dry. You have a fever.”

She didn't even stir so he tapped harder
, finally getting a moan. It wasn’t much, but it made him feel better. He leaned to her ear. “Samantha, please, wake up.” Toren couldn’t resist speaking delicately to her. “I need you to help me undress you.” He clenched his eyes, realizing how bad that sounded. “To change your clothes. They’re wet and you’re sick. Can you wake up for me?”

She suddenly gasped and sat up, looking all around then at him. Her wide eyes scanned his naked body and he held up his hands to show it wasn’t what it looked like
, what he saw in her eyes. “I took my clothes off to give them to you because yours are wet and you’re running a fever.” Without taking his eyes from her wide shocked gaze, he pointed to the stove. “I’m drying our coats so you have something dry to wear.” He kept his voice gentle and hypnotic as he could.

“Why…” she swallowed and winced as though her throat hurt, “are we here?”

“You passed out and the storm hit. I couldn’t see the road and didn’t want to get stranded in the blizzard.”

Her jaw trembled and she looked around, holding her arms and shivering despite the fact that the room felt like an oven. Her delicate oval face was incredibly pale, except for the spot of
bright red high on each cheekbone and the dark hollows under her eyes. Her hair hung in a stringy, damp brown mass, except for the right side, where it was burned nearly to the scalp. Damn. It didn't even resemble the silky chestnut he'd noticed when she strode into the ranch house kitchen.

“You can’t waste the wood. Don’t put any more on
. We don’t have much as it is. We'll have to make it last until we can get out of here.” Her fearful gaze flicked over him again. “You look different without your… hat.”

What had she been about to say? Before he could ask, she coughed, deep and painful sounding, reminding him of her condition. How could he let that detail slip his mind for an instant? “You need to take this.” He held the medicine to her. “For your fever.”

She took the medicine from his hand not arguing. He handed her the water bottle and watched as she tossed the pills in her mouth and drank, then wiped her mouth on her arm before a violent chill took her. “Turn around, I need to get out of these wet clothes.”

Finally, something he could do to really help. “Oh. Here." He nearly dropped his shirt twice before he managed to hand it to her. "You can wear my shirt while you wait for your
clothes to dry. Let me see if my coat is no longer wet, you can cover up with it.” He went to the stove and checked it. “Five more minutes.” He turned back toward her and she jerked her gaze up. She’d been staring at his body. Had she liked what she saw? “I only got out of my clothes to give them to you until yours dried.”

“That’s fine.” She seemed to try for
no problem
but her voice came out sounding small and tired. She indicated with a finger that he turn around. “Can’t wait for your coat, you’ll have to just deal with a half-naked woman. I hope you can?”

Her tone said he’d better deal and not give her any problems with it, she had enough already. He smiled after he turned. “Of course I can.” He allowed a hint of insult into his tone for added measure.

“Yes, of course you can. Don’t worry, I won't present any challenges to your virtue anyway. I’m my father’s daughter, the only thing not making me a man is what’s between my legs…or not.” Her derision tapered off toward the end of her sentence, and Toren heard the dark depression that lie had brought over the years.