Wasteland (31 page)

He stepped toward me, hands clasped behind his back. Brilliant pearlescent wings, with a span of twenty feet, stuck out from behind him. His towering presence threw a long shadow over me.

“Where am I?”

A breeze gusted over us. His russet hair flittered back, off his shoulders. A deep scar spanning the right side of his face glimmered beneath the sunshine. A belt around his flowing, white shirt cinched the fabric to his narrow waist and housed a dagger.

I couldn’t get a sense of him. Friend or foe? I inched back. Grains of sand whispered over my bare feet. I readied my wings for flight.

“Where do you think you are?” he asked.

I faced the cobalt sky, then focused on the stranger. My nose tickled at the faint hint of lilac. My heart tumbled as the scent triggered images of Beka in my mind. My eyes burned.

“If I must smell Beka, yet can never touch her sweet face again, then I would assume I am in hell.”

The stranger’s leathery face creased as the corner of his mouth shifted into a crooked smile. “I forget, you were demon for so many years, new to the life of an Angel.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Michael.”

“The Archangel?”

He nodded.

“You know my mother.” I scanned the never ending dunes. “Is she here?”

“No. I’m sorry, David. She sold her soul, along with yours, to Lucifer. She suffers along with the other souls he’s captured.”

“But you saw her. You know—” Emotion stole my voice.

“Your imagination of what she looked like was not far off, yet, her hair was red. She often wore a subtle smile, as if she knew a secret no one else did.” The man studied the ground. “But she was not content with her station in life.”

“Station?”

“Slave. She longed for a life of luxury, as many mortals do.” He shook his head, sending his shiny hair into the air around his face. “It brought her to darkness.”

“But not me.”

Michael inched toward me. I retreated. He reached out his hand, but I waved him off. “Your mother did not know of your importance, otherwise, she would not have sold your soul into bondage so easily.” Michael’s chest puffed out, and he speared me with a stare. “You have been the prophesied Angel all along, young one. Lucifer knew this and tricked your mother into possession of your soul.”

But now I was dead. It didn’t seem fair.

“We intervened to the extent we were allowed.”

“Allowed?”

“We cannot impose our will among the humans. We can only present choices. Options. You had to be given a choice. So, I demanded a clause to allow you that same choice between good and evil your mother’s actions stripped from you.” Michael’s hand went to his side.

The long, white sleeves covered his arms, to his knuckles. His loose cream-colored pants waved in the subtle breeze. My pounding heart robbed me of the breath my empty lungs craved.

“Had Lucifer not imposed his will by tricking your mother into selling your soul, you would have been born and fallen into the role as Guardian Angel. The one prophesied to join with the Guardian Queen, Rebeka David.”

“Instead, Locien raped my mother, made her pregnant, then she died while birthing me.” My knees buckled beneath my weight, and I slouched to the ground. I fisted palms full of sand. “The things he made me do.”

Anger and hatred constricted my lungs. Acidic tears streamed down my face.

“Yet, you refused to turn your heart to darkness. You’ve battled every temptation thrown at you for centuries. Well, not the two and a half you spent in confinement, but for one hundred and fifty years of your contract, you resisted.”

“Only to experience love, become an Angel, then die at the hands of the very being who created me.” I scanned the barren, tan, surroundings. “Now, meant to spent eternity, without my Beka, here in this wasteland. I’d rather have darkness.”

“You rid the earth of a strong evil presence.”

“There will be another. Many
Masters
out there, are there not?” But there will never be another Beka.
My Beka.
I clenched my hands until my knuckles ached.

Michael kneeled before me. Tears streamed from his eyes as if he felt the pain ripping through my heart as his own.

“I only had Beka for a short time. Now we are apart. She is alone.”

“But Jessica is safe and Locien is dead. You have done what no other creature could have.”

I gestured to my surroundings. “This is how I am repaid? I am not sure it was worth the sacrifice.”

“You got to love a beautiful woman, however short of a time.”

I buried my hands in the sand. Despite its heated, silky feel, I would much rather touch Beka. My chest constricted.

“You never thought of yourself as a King, able to lead anyone anyway.”

My shoulders sagged. “How can I lead such good when I am the seed of such evil? Locien’s blood runs through me.” I peeked at Michael again. “Is that why I have dark wings and dark nails and am stuck here, between heaven and hell?”

He grinned. “The Light flowing through your veins is stronger. Light is always stronger than darkness. Even before you found it, you chose it by saving Jessica and Beka. Then, after accepting the Light, you sacrificed yourself for Jessica. Why?”

“She’s worth more. She will save many people. Beka and Russell will keep her safe. She will keep many souls from this place.” Tears stung at the mention of Beka’s name.

“You think like a leader, yet you do not trust it.”

Fountains of soft, warm sand sifted through my fingers, floating in the gentle breeze. “What is this place?”

“Somewhere your mind has created.”

“My demon blood keeps me from heaven, doesn’t it? Is this my afterlife? A desert, alone?”

“No.” Michael stood. “You are much too precious to exit earth so quickly after coming to the Light. There are many things for you to do for us on Earth before your time expires. Yet, you sit here, in no man’s land, because you do not believe yourself worthy.”

“I am not worthy. I killed Beka’s family. I have killed hundreds of people. I have demon blood running in my veins, I—” Tears choked my throat. “I am evil. Will always be demon.”

“That is your father talking, David.”

Anger skewered my gut. A heavy hand landed on my shoulder. I met Michael’s brilliant, sapphire eyes. They welled with moisture.

“Do you not want to be with Beka?” Michael faced skyward.

The wind breathed my name.
Beka’s voice
.

“Do you not want to love her? To take care of her? To protect her?” Michael released his grip on my shoulder.

“I do. I want all of that.”

“Have you not already done so for her when you held her neck together? Protected her with the ferocity of a lion? And Jessica, too.”

I stood. “I have. That is all I want to do for eternity if allowed.”

A gust of wind sent grains of sand prickling my back. Beka’s voice whispered louder. Frantic. “David,” she said. “Please, David. I need you.”

“She lies on the riverbed waiting for you, David. Are you willing?” Michael drifted back. His image began to fade. “You are worthy, Dark Angel. You must only believe it to be true.”

I reached out for him, but my hand met air. I faced the sky. The blowing sand muted the sun’s rays. Dust bit at my eyes. The wind gusted over me, lurching me forward, but I remained upright. Beka would help me lead the Guardians. She was my Queen. If I had her by my side, I could do anything. She was my mate.

I focused my thoughts on her face. “Beka. Where are you?”

Flaming sand filled my lungs, searing my throat. “Beka. I want to be with you. You’re mine.”

My lungs seized, and I tipped forward, face smacking the sand. Unconsciousness battled for supremacy and won. The howling wind stopped. The sand biting at my skin stopped. Then there was silence.

I must not have been worthy after all.

CHAPTER 47

Warmth encompassed me like a blanket. Tickles on my chest lured me from the peaceful darkness. I opened my eyes, expecting the tan, dune-like place I’d been. Instead, twinkling lights on a canvas of darkness greeted me.

The air carried a hint of smoke. A crackling fire nearby. More tickles against my chest. Brilliant white feathers danced across my skin beneath the sway of a gentle breeze.
Lilacs
.

I tilted my head. Beka’s sweet, ivory-skinned face lay inches from mine, her cheek resting on my shoulder. My skin prickled along my throat. Realization dawned on me, sending my heart cracking against my chest. I lay on the riverbed with my wife. Not in a barren wasteland. Not dead but alive.

I craned my neck so my lips met Beka’s forehead. She jerked, her wing tightening across my stomach, and opened her eyes.

“David.”

It reminded me of the voice the wind carried while talking with Michael in my wasteland. The sweetest voice I would ever hear. The only voice I ever wanted to hear. She turned onto her side, her arm snaking around my waist and pulled herself close.

“My David.” Her eyes scanned my face. “You live.” Tears streamed, following the contours of her cheekbones, to the crease of her lips. Her body trembled against mine.

I reached for her, thankful my arms moved at command, unlike before, and traced my thumb beneath her eye. “I heard you calling to me.”

She nestled her forehead against my cheek, her body shook. The warmth of her tears flowed onto my shoulder, pooling near my collarbone. “You didn’t respond for so long.” Her voice cracked. “But you didn’t turn to dust from your wound.”

I nudged her with my mouth, kissing her nose, her cheek, finally reaching her sweet, soft lips. They trembled. Her hand grazed up my chest, beneath my hair to my neck. She peppered kisses along my chin, on my cheek, my eyes and my forehead.

“You’re alive. You’re really alive.” She eased away, allowing a stream of coolness between us.

“Stay close.” Felt like the desert sand coated my throat for how much it stung to speak.

She combed her fingers through my hair, pushing it off my forehead. “Are you okay?”

“I am now.” I nodded. My stiff neck muscles knotted. No nodding for a while. “Locien is gone?”

“You killed him. And I thought he’d killed you.” Two tears slid down her cheeks. “We now share two matching marks.”

I gripped my neck. My fingers met a patch of smooth skin. A red line split Beka’s ivory skin like a purple choker.

Matching marks on our chest
and
throat.

“Can you sit up?” she asked.

“As comfortable as I am with you against me, beneath the shelter of your wing, I should try.”

“You’ve been lying here nearly two days.” She shuffled back, retracting her wing.

“No wonder everything feels stiff.”

She offered me her hand. “Go slow.” She glanced to the side, and shook her head.

She guided me into a sitting position. My stomach cramped, and my abdominal muscles stretched until they twitched. Several people huddled a campfire ten feet from us. Russell, I recognized, but no one else felt familiar. The group watched with wide eyes.

“How does that feel?” Beka asked.

My wife knelt beside me, a hand gripping my shoulder. Dark stains spotted her shirt. Probably my blood. Her long, blond hair cascaded over her shoulders, matted and straggly. She still managed to look radiant as the pink sky spotlighted her smooth skin. My breath snagged at the view.

“David?” She lifted my chin with her forefinger. “Are you okay?”

“Who are those people?”

“Guardians. In from Utah. Russell guessed, very well I might add, that we were here and brought them down.” She let out a long sigh. “They got here late last night.”

I reached for her hand. “Let’s see if my legs work.”

Her strong grip around my forearm, she guided me to my feet. She kept me steady by the shoulders as my equilibrium caught up with the movement.

“My wings?”

“They were mangled but retracted at impact, they’ve healed inside you by now.”

I drew in a deep breath of the crisp, evening air. My nose twitched at the soothing scent of smoldering embers and lilac. Beka stood tall beside me, her hand resting on my shoulder. I gathered her into my arms. Her body felt like home.

No, it
was
home.

I called to my wings. Needles prickled my spine, bones repositioned, crackling beneath contracted muscles. The groan burst from my mouth before I could keep it in check.

“Breathe.” Beka’s warm breath swept over my neck. “Relax your muscles.”

White-hot pain spliced either side of my spine. Razor blades carved their way through my insides. Popping and grinding, my feathered limbs hacked their way out.

Soft lips touched kisses down my chest. The ache lessened.

Then stopped.

Wings fully extended my body sagged forward. They stirred and lifted. Beating forward softly, they enfolded my wife in a protective embrace that was warm as fever.

Beka nuzzled her forehead against my neck, and I hugged her close.

“Care to take a flight with me? Help me stretch my wings?” I nipped at her earlobe. “I have much to tell you.”

She lifted her head from my neck and smiled. I unfurled my wings and eased her back. One thrust, and I was airborne. Gasps trailed behind me. I scanned the area. Seven people, six males and one female, stood from the ground and watched me.

Russell waved and gave me a thumbs up. Beka jumped up into the air, but circled toward the female. The girl with long charcoal hair, tossed her a package, then Beka flew toward me.

“Where is Jessica?” I asked.

“She sleeps in a tent near the fire, behind the Guardians.”

“She healed okay?”

“Yes. Slowly, like you. She’s still weak. Was near death.”

We veered south, following the river. The moonlight reflected off the flowing water and I reveled in the earthy scent of moisture. My desert wasteland smelled only of dust and despair. My stiff wings loosened and within minutes the kinks worked themselves out, leaving the sense of freedom I’d grown to love in the short time I’d been flying.

Beka pointed to her right. “There, see the water?”

A line of trees hemmed a glass-smooth pool near the river. “Yes.”

“Let’s land there and clean up.” She winked. “And you said you have much to tell me?”