Wings of Redemption (8 page)

Chapter Eight

Saffron spent three days in a state of comfortable boredom, doing her best not to think about her condition or the upcoming surgery. Before her sister’s disappearance, she’d been pushing herself hard and keeping long hours—trying to do everything and make time for everyone. Passing the days with Kestrel amounted to an indulgent vacation: sleeping in, eating good food, reading books, lying in the sun, and speaking with Thyme each day on the cell phone. If only he had a pool on the terrace and a blender for frozen drinks, she’d have been in heaven.

Good thing Eden wasn’t heaven, though. She’d go straight to hell for her thoughts about her archangel host.

Kestrel left her for hours on end each day to fly with others of his kind, but he also joined her for walks around the colony. True to their agreement, her family never came up in conversation. What a relief. Without having her background constantly thrown in her face, she and Kes got along like old friends.

Old friends who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.

Whenever they got too close to each other, they ended up kissing. They got too close to each other at every opportunity. Each day, it got more and more out of hand.

On the morning of her fourth day in Eden, she got up early and tiptoed past the archangel sprawled on the floor. She gathered her hair up off her neck and moved through her yoga routine on the terrace as the sun rose. She’d woken from a dream in which she and Kes had done a hell of a lot more than kiss, and now she needed an outlet for the energy that made her body hum.

She wanted more. He did too—his body never hid that fact. Question was, considering she was leaving tomorrow, was it best to seize the day, or let it go without complicating the matter further?

As it was, she was going to miss him.

“Saffron?”

She eased herself out of warrior pose and turned to the archangel. He leaned against the doorframe, one ankle crossed over the other, watching her.

“Stay there, Kes.”

“Why?”

She perused his body. He slept in nothing but a pair of loose cotton pants that sat low on his hips. His form was that of an athlete—flying, apparently, was a full-body exercise. His hair was mussed, but his mottled feathers were impeccably arranged and groomed. His skin gleamed in the light.

“Because if you come any closer, I’m going to jump you.”

His eyebrows shot up.

“You’ve been warned.” She turned and focused on the waning gold of the sunrise, leaving him the choice of the next move. He’d either go back inside and start their waffle breakfast, or—

Heavy hands settled on her hips from behind. Warm lips kissed the nape of her neck. She tilted her head back and he pressed his cheek to hers. They stood like that, silent, until the sunrise faded entirely. After a murmured discussion in which she clarified that she used a long-term birth control medication, he steered her toward the door.

He hadn’t gotten in bed with her since their first morning together, during the thunderstorm. He brought her there now, sat with his wings extended behind him, and guided her backward to sit between his bent knees. She leaned against his warm chest, her hands on his thighs.

He pulled her shirt over her head. She’d neglected a bra for yoga, leaving her bare to his touch. As he kissed her neck, he explored her skin with his hands, making her shiver and grow warmer at the same time.

“Are we really alone?” she whispered, awareness of Fire Eyes’ constant presence. She scrutinized the dark corners of the room, even though it was impossible to spot the Guardian when he wished to remain out of sight.

“Dec gives me true privacy when I ask it of him, yes, though it’s like asking a troll to leave his bridge. He’s not far, but he’s most definitely not here.” He flipped her onto her belly and eased her yoga pants and panties down her legs.

Propped on her elbows, she craned her neck and watched him. He bent forward and nipped the sensitive back of her thigh with his teeth. When she squirmed, he held her ankles and teased her other thigh.

“Is there any place you’re not ticklish?” His mouth curved with devilish promise and he worked his way higher. He pressed his lips to the small of her back and slowly kissed his way up her spine, his wings draped to either side of them.

When he reached her neck, she rolled over, grasped his shoulders, and sealed his mouth with hers. Exploring his chest and back as she kissed him, she found the hem of his pants and boxers and pushed the offending material down.

“Touch me,” he murmured. He kicked his pants off the edge of the bed.

She cupped the smooth curve of his backside. Shame his wings hid such an ass from view most of the time. Criminal, really. She reached for the front of his hips with one hand and gripped him. He sucked in air through his teeth.

“All of me.” He spread kisses across her breasts, driving her to agony with sensation.

Shaking, she lifted her hands to his wings. Despite the hours they’d logged lip-locked since her arrival, he hadn’t invited her to touch his wings and she’d kept her hands studiously on his skin. That he finally desired such contact—by extension accepting her, despite who she was—made her eyes water.

She smoothed her palms across his feathers and the curves of thick muscle beneath. Kes groaned and arched his back, bringing his lower body in contact with hers. He kissed her, tender and shaking, and eased himself into her.

And then they both lost control.

They made love until red marks from Saffron’s fingers streaked his shoulders and her orgasm left her lightheaded. He finished a moment after her, his face buried in her hair, which had long since fallen free from its ties.

Catching their breath, they stayed in each other’s arms amongst the tangled bedding. Kes lifted himself and stared down at her, his head cocked to the side. He didn’t say a word, but the way he ran his fingers over her cheek, down her throat, and across her shoulder conveyed volumes.

“I’m going to miss you,” she whispered.

Kes brushed his lips across hers. She kissed him back, lightly, savoring the feel of his skin. Pain tightened her chest.

He stretched out at her side and pulled her close. They lay together in silence. Saffron drifted to sleep in the warm morning sunbeams filtering in from the windows.

…

Kestrel lounged half-asleep in bed, content to pass the morning surrounded by Saffron’s scent and pressed against her warm skin. He kept his wings folded away from her in an uncomfortable position. Covering her with a wing would be the natural thing to do, but he wanted her bare to his gaze.

He rested a hand on her skin where her body curved from her hip to her waist. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed through parted, pink lips. He kissed the lightning burn on her shoulder.

How grand it would be to do this every morning. To go on those walks he’d begun to enjoy with her every day. He also would miss her.

Nauseous, he shut his eyes. Never in five hundred years had he anticipated missing a lover. He’d been involved with his fair share of females, archangel and demon, and had cared deeply for a few of them. However, each time, they’d parted ways satisfied. Fulfilled. Ready to move on to the next stage of their long lives.

He’d watched several of those females go on to settle down with mates. He’d been happy for them. To find a mate and share that unbreakable bond was a blessing. He’d never truly wanted it for himself because he’d never found someone he wanted that profound a connection to. And now, he faced the waning years of his existence.

He also faced saying goodbye to Saffron.

Which was seriously going to hurt.

However, what hurt more was knowing how much she’d hate him after he took her to see Rave in the afternoon. He’d stalled the other archangel and Virgil this long, but couldn’t do so any longer. The deed had to be done before Saffron left the colony tomorrow morning.

Saffron didn’t deserve to be hurt. She didn’t deserve to be betrayed. She’d given him so much trust, from when he flew with her for the first time, to staying with him after he’d explained his psychic talent and its implications. She’d given him all this affection knowing full well the depth of his hatred for her family.

However, he’d known her for four days. His species fought for survival. The scales could not tip in her favor.

In all reality, he wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to her when she left. By then, she wouldn’t be speaking to him.

He leaned down and kissed her temple. “Goodbye, Saffron. I will miss you, too. And I’m so sorry.”

Chapter Nine

The sun hung low in the west, casting long shadows across the path. Saffron walked at Kestrel’s side through the same garden where they’d been caught in a downpour days ago. He held one wing partially extended, touching her back.

The acres of roses and herbs were magnificent in the golden afternoon light. Curse the Guardians for denying her the camera in her car. She needed it. Taking photos was her tried-and-true outlet for nervous energy and her optimal coping mechanism.

“I wish I could take your picture.”

He shook his head. “I appreciate your project, but even if the Guardians approved it, I don’t like the idea of being on display. Carny, on the other hand—”

“I don’t want your picture for my project. I want it for me.” She ran her fingers over some white roses—wet from a recent shower—lining the path. “The first picture I ever took was in elementary school, with a pink camera Mom had gotten me for my birthday. A friend was moving away, so I took her picture. I hate the passage of time. Hate how flowers like these will drop their petals before long. I take photos to hold on to things I can’t actually hold on to. Like you.”

“Saffron.”

“I’m just saying it like it is. I’ve never met a man whose company I’ve enjoyed like this.”

“Our time together has meant that much to you?”

She swallowed. “Yes. Four days is not enough. This, meaning you and me, could have been…”

He stared straight ahead and his throat worked. “Yes, it could have been something incredible. If things were very, very different.”

“Why can’t—”

“Saffron. Don’t.”

She pressed her lips together and held her chin high.

A shadow broke free of the others and careened around them in a circle. Saffron gasped and froze.

“It’s all right,” Kes said, his tone strange—thick, chilly, monotone. “A friend of mine wants to meet you.”

An archangel with wings as dark as the midnight sky swooped over the path and landed. Black hair matched his feathers, giving him an imposing vibe that made Saffron tense. However, he smiled and the warmth in the expression reached his eyes. “Hello, Saffron Morin.”

“Saffron, this is Rave.”

“Hello.” She held out her hand.

The archangel’s fingers closed over hers and a similar pressure wrapped around her skull.
What the hell?

“Excuse me a moment,” she said. “I don’t feel well.”

You’re fine, Saffron. This will only take a moment if you don’t fight me.

Her jaw dropped. The archangel’s voice rang in her mind without the slightest movement from his lips. A mind reader! The idea made her nauseous. What an invasion of privacy.

“Uh, that’s impressive, but please stay out of my head.”

You may recall Virgil asking you some questions about your family and their property? You weren’t willing to be forthright with answers, so here I am.

Her heart shot into her throat. Damn it, a mind reader could pull information out of her head that would put her parents in danger, especially in Virgil’s hands. “Get away from me. Kes, let’s go.”

Kestrel gripped her arms from behind, holding her in place.

“Kes?”

He said nothing and kept his gaze on Rave.

She struggled, but his grip only tightened. “
Kes.
”

Kestrel shut his eyes. “Don’t.”

Rave stood directly in front of her. His voice filled her head.
Let’s talk about the mansion’s security.

The prompt automatically turned her thoughts in that direction, unveiling crucial information in seconds. Rave smiled.

She glared over her shoulder at Kestrel. “You son of a bitch.
Crisse de tabarnak de calisse!
”

He met her gaze, his mouth set in a thin, unapologetic line.

Focus, Saffron. How do your parents spend their evenings?

She tried to think of other things, but her thoughts jerked around in her head as if Rave were physically riffling through them. He must have been doing just that, considering the look of concentration on his face, and that she thought of details she’d never normally notice, such as squeaky floorboards. Everything important rose to the surface, including the fact that her mother was home recovering from pneumonia and her father had canceled his weekend plans to be home for her.

The blind spots in the security camera coverage.

The security codes.

She stomped on Kestrel’s foot, squirmed, elbowed his ribs, twisted, but he didn’t budge. He tightened his grip.

“Hey,” Rave said. “Your parents deserve to die.”

She spat in his face.

Rave gripped her jaw with one hand and stared into her eyes. The pressure in her head increased and images appeared. Vivid, gory images. Two lifeless, face-down bodies on a river bank. Two mutilated backs where wings had clearly once been attached. Blood. So much blood.

Oh, God. She knew what the poachers did, of course, but she’d never seen the bodies left behind. Only the clean, preserved feathers. If not for Kestrel’s hold, she’d have sunk to her knees. “
Crisse.
”

Those were my parents, bitch. I found them like that when I was twenty.
Rave released her jaw and stepped back. He nodded at Kestrel. “I’m done here.”

Rave spread his wings and took off.

Kestrel released her arms.

She turned on her heel and smacked him.

He did nothing. Didn’t even raise a hand to the red mark on his face. He only stared at her, his expression a mask.

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” she ground out.

“I don’t have to explain myself, Saffron. Not about this.”

“I understand your side. I do. But, that doesn’t make this right, Kestrel. You should have…”

“I should have what?” Tension filled his voice.

She swallowed, her mouth as dry as cotton. “Protected me. At the very least, you could have not helped them. Virgil and that archangel could have mind-raped me without you.”

“I’m not a coward who turns his back.”

“You turned your back on
me
.
Batard
,” she spat out in French.

He sighed. “Let’s go—”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” She followed that with more profane insults that were most effective in her primary tongue.

He nodded, unsurprised. “The town hall is that white building over there. They’ll give you a room.”

She hurried away from him and refused to look back, even though her body tried. Earlier, she’d been feigning sleep while they lingered in bed together—she hadn’t wanted the moment to end. He’d whispered goodbye in her ear, and told her he was sorry.

Now she knew why.

He had meant it. But this was unforgiveable.

…

Kestrel stayed up all night. Even though it sprinkled and thunder murmured in the distance, he sat on the terrace. Inside, the bed was as they’d left it. Her scent clung to the blankets. After returning home alone, he’d walked away from it, an unfathomable pain filling his chest.

The assassination was underway. The Guardians had analyzed the information from Rave, assembled a team, and headed out. They needed to be done before Saffron left the colony and got to a phone. Kestrel checked the time on his cell. Three a.m. It would be a couple more hours before the demons reached Montreal.

He ground his teeth. The rain fell harder.

Cursing himself for being a ridiculous cliché by sitting out in the weather, he got up and went inside.

Time to grow a set: clean up, get rid of her stuff, and go to sleep.

He gathered the bedding first and dropped it in a heap by the laundry in the bathroom. He added her clothes to the pile. He found a bag and packed all the cosmetics. Finally, he flicked off the lights and lay down on his blankets on the floor.

Tomorrow morning, the world would be a little bit safer for his species. Abel Morin was but one of a half dozen major Collectors in the world, but each one killed was a victory.

Why did he want to slam his head against the floor?

He stared into the dark. His thoughts drifted back to when he’d first seen her, cross-legged in the gravel outside the colony’s front gate, staring at her hands. She’d gazed up at him, her eyes wide with shock and wonder. He’d hated being regarded that way. Still did. However, he’d grown to love that look of rapture on her face whenever it appeared: when he flew with her, when she walked through the garden, when they’d made love.

So different from when she had last looked at him.

She’d stared at him the way he’d undoubtedly regarded her after he’d discovered her identity. He’d almost turned his back on her that first night. She was a Morin. His enemy, just like the rest of her family. Just like the poachers.

It’s up to you to be a better man than your enemies.

Dec’s words had gotten through to him that evening. Tonight, they stung him. Yes, archangels fought for their continued existence on the planet, but how did they want to wage that battle? Did they want to sneak into someone’s home in the middle of the night? Kill him in his bed, a tactic used by many poachers in the beginning, before the archangels had the benefit of the demons for protection? Did they want to be as low and merciless as their enemies?

What good was survival if it made them capable of the cruelty he’d shown Saffron?

Survival was about life. He would have liked to spend more of what was left of his with Saffron in his arms, rather than regretting what he’d done to her.

It was too late for that.

But not too late to spare her the pain of her family’s deaths.

He cursed quietly. He reached for his cell phone, searched through previous incoming calls, and dialed the number he found.

The call went to voice mail. No surprise, given the hour. He hung up and called again. And again. Hopefully, she’d left the ringer on. If she didn’t answer—

“
What?
”

“Thyme?”

“Who’s this?” Thyme demanded in French. “It’s two in the morning. That’s insane, even by my standards!”

“I’m an acquaintance of Saffron’s in Eden.” His own French was rough, but understandable.

Silence.

“I need you to call your parents.”

“Why? Is Saffron all right?”

“She’s fine and will be at your hospital tomorrow as scheduled. However, if you want your parents alive to see Saffron again, they need to get out of the house, now. It’s best if they go to a hotel with high security.” Hopefully the demons would still have access to the mansion and destroy the cursed feather collection.

“What’s going on?”

“Just do as I’ve told you. They’ll be killed if they stay in the mansion. I estimate they have two hours at the most.” He disconnected the call.

He gathered the pillow in his arms and shut his eyes. There. It was done. The Morins could heed his warning or not. He’d tried.

He’d have one less regret tomorrow.