Malakh
CHAPTER TWO
We walked for what seemed like hours—what had probably been hours, judging from the moon's progress across the sky. I knew I'd regret staying up all night.
"Where are we going? It's late; I need to sleep."
Russ stopped, tugging my hand to bring me to a halt beside him. "No time for sleep. We have much to discuss, such as Raum's favorite places, his daily habits. You know him best."
"No. God knows him best."
"He sent me to you."
I unwound my fingers from his, but he didn't let go of my hand. "I can't imagine why."
"Can't you," he replied, a statement rather than a question. "He sends you healing, Suzanne. Accept it."
"How is this healing? He wants me to betray my lover."
Russ's hand tightened for a fraction of a second. "He's no longer your lover." He began walking again, pulling me along behind him, ignoring my attempts to elicit a more logical response.
"What about my car?" I asked finally.
"We can't use it. It smells of you; he'll be able to find you, and through you, he'll find me."
"But—"
"We're going to neutral ground, and there I can shield you. He can trace you to there but not beyond."
"Neutral ground? Where would that be—a church?"
He spared me a purely human look of amusement. "A church is hardly neutral."
We walked on, Russ in silence, me in annoyance. After another thirteen blocks, I tried to pull my hand away from his again. His fingers tightened.
"You don't want to do that, Suzanne," he said mildly.
"The hell I don't," I replied.
Without further argument, he let go. Instantly my whole body ached with fatigue and my trembling legs spilled me onto the sidewalk. Too late I realized that he'd been feeding me endurance through our linked flesh.
"Have I told you lately that I loathe your species?" I rubbed my calves, soothing weary muscles.
Russ knelt beside me. "I'll take that as sarcasm, because otherwise it's a lie. Here." A hand laid over one of mine stopped my makeshift massage. "It will take a little more effort now that you've broken the link."
"Kiss me and I'll put a stake through your heart."
He chuckled. "What heart? You know better."
His admonishment out of the way, he hauled me to my feet and wrapped me in an impossibly engulfing embrace. The full-body contact sent immediate relief singing through my muscles. When we started walking again, I felt refreshed and rejuvenated, and this time I didn't protest as he took my hand.
On we went, out of downtown Seattle and into Lower Queen Anne. Houses flashed by, both derelict and restored. I was mildly surprised to see a flip-flop from what I'd remembered: some of the more dilapidated abodes were now pristine, and some of my favorites, which I had jealously coveted, had gone to seed. Had it really been five years since I'd ventured into Queen Anne? There had been a bakery here I'd frequented in my life before Raum. I wondered if it was still there.
Thirty-six blocks into our thirty-eight block walk, it occurred to me where he was taking me. Not a church, because he was right—a church was hardly neutral. But there were other places where saints and sinners rubbed elbows in relative harmony.
Places such as Mount Pleasant Cemetery.
We wound our way between headstones across the carefully manicured lawns of the cemetery, heading deeper into the grounds away from the offices. The farther we went, the more uneasy I became; the seclusion was indicative of a need for privacy from prying eyes and ears. Just what did shielding entail? Raum had never done such a thing for me. I wondered suddenly whether it was because he had seen no need for it, or he had simply not cared if I had his protection.
Finally Russ stopped, turning to face me, still holding my hand. "You should sit for a moment before we start."
"Start what, exactly?" I gripped his hand tighter, resisting his gentle push to make me sit.
"The shielding. Suzanne, please—"
"This doesn't have anything to do with sex, does it? And the ground is wet, in case you hadn't noticed. This is Seattle." Raindrops glistened on the blades of grass, gleaming in the moonlight like tiny crystals.
"It's July; I doubt you'll succumb to hypothermia. And no, this has nothing to do with sex, so relax."
He wrenched his hand from mine and his gentle push became an inexorable shove toward the ground. The chilly rain soaked into the back of my slacks, and I sent him a reproachful look.
Russ knelt before me and held out his hands, palms up, waiting for me to lay mine upon them, his gaze steady as only an angel's could be. I hesitated.
"Do you trust me?" he asked quietly.
"Trust you?" I repeated incredulously. "I don't even know you!"
He didn't smile. "This is part of the process. Do you trust me? Don't say you do if you don't; that weakens my protection and we'll both be very sorry later."
Something in his tone made me think about his question long and hard before I answered. Did I trust him, an angel who had accosted me on the street at night and shamed me into hunting my beloved? Could I even think of trusting another of the same species who had shown me the closest thing to heaven I'd ever know this side of death—as well as the most excruciating pain I could experience this side of hell?
I reflected that the fact I'd listened to him, and willingly left the café with him knowing why he sought me, spoke volumes more than my mere words could convey. Yes, I trusted him—trusted him enough, anyway—or I never would have come. Better yet, he never could have marked me with the marriage bond if I harbored any suspicions.
I laid my hands on his. Warm heat flowed from my fingertips, up through my arms, flooding my torso. His hands slid up the backs of my arms, spreading fiery heat in their wake. Not a sexual heat, but something infinitely more personal and binding. I felt it coil through my blood, invading my very DNA, and belatedly I wondered just what I was allowing myself to be drawn into. From the moment Raum crashed into my life—literally—I'd known nothing but extremes: exhilaration, unbounded joy, despair, and darkest depression. Insanity was the only explanation for allowing another of his kind this level of familiarity.
My whole body tingled as though an electrical current thrummed through my nerve endings. Every molecule of my being came vibrantly alive. I felt as though I could scale the tallest buildings and embrace the world.
"Don't try to stand yet," Russ cautioned as I lurched to my knees. The surge of energy through my limbs made me awkward and shaky. "The intensity will pass in a moment, and you'll be able to handle yourself with coordination."
"How long can you keep up a shield like this?"
"Indefinitely. That was the purpose of the marriage bond—in addition to hiding you from him."
"But what about—"
"No time to talk about that now, Suzanne. And speaking of … " He leaned away from me, still balanced on his haunches, and surveyed me with a critical eye. "I can't keep calling you that. We're going to have to find another name for you."
"Crazy?" I suggested, tongue firmly in cheek.
Russ surprised me by cracking a smile. "While perhaps it's apt, it's not very flattering for such an attractive woman."
I thought for a moment. "My best friend in high school was named Zanna. Everyone called us Sue-Zanna when we were together. You know, a play on the name Susanna?"
"I'm an angel, not an idiot," he replied. "How well does Raum know her?"
"He's never met her. I don't think I even mentioned her while we were together."
"She's not your best friend anymore?"
"She stopped speaking to me during our last year of college."
"Let me guess: a man." He straightened, holding his hands down to help me up. "No, I don't think we can use that. You'll have a lot of emotions about it, even if they're buried deep. He'll have seen them."
I scowled at him. "It's really complicated being involved with your species. Can you see now why I wanted nothing to do with this?"
"You think your species is a picnic?" he countered calmly. "Always finding trouble even while we're working hard to keep you out of it."
I pulled my hands away, only now realizing he was still holding them. "If I'd had a guardian angel, he would have kept me from becoming involved with Raum. Therefore, I must conclude from the events of the last few years that I was either not assigned one, or he abandoned his post."
"He looked away at a crucial moment. Believe me, he is regretful." He twitched his shoulders back, as though flexing wings. "It's not as effective as physical contact, but as long as I'm shielding you, I can feed you strength without touching you. I'm sure that will please you."
"Immensely."
"I think I'll call you Bree."
If he meant to throw me off balance with the sudden change in topic, he was going to have to do better than that. "Bree? Why Bree?"
"In the ancient Scots language, it means a disturbance. I think it's suitable."
"Ha ha."
But he was already shaking his head. "No, I'll never remember to call you that. We'll just have to trust that we won't attract attention using your real name."
"Now what do we do?"
"Now we find a hole we can crawl into so we can talk."
"I'll need to sleep sometime."
Russ stared at me silently for a long moment, and then pulled his lower lip between his teeth, chewing on it thoughtfully. I wondered from what human he'd picked this up; perhaps the same one from whom he'd learned to love hot chocolate.
"You need less rest now than you ordinarily would, but you're right. Eventually you'll need to sleep. Otherwise, when I withdraw the shield, you'll collapse from exhaustion."
"That's an uplifting thought. I have enough problems right now without adding hospitalization to the mix."
"You have problems you never even dreamed of, Suzanne. Come, let's find a place to hole up, and I'll tell you all about them."
A hand at my back urged me forward, and I slanted a look up at him as we crept out of the cemetery. Well, I crept; Russ moved with preternatural silence, as though not even the twigs in the grass dared obey the laws of physics by snapping under his weight.
"I'm beginning to suspect you play a large part in those problems," I said.
"You've no idea."
We navigated our way out of Queen Anne and started the long walk to parts unknown. After several blocks, he offered his arm. After a couple more, I took hold of it. A while later, I ventured to speak.
"Are we going to walk all night? Can't you just … fly us somewhere?"
"He lied to you about that. It doesn't work that way."
"He lied to me about a lot of things." Such as he loved me. And that he would never leave me. And that he could fly. And that …
"Hey, is it true that you can vanish from here and appear in Venice in an instant?"
Russ sighed expressively. Another lie, apparently.
On we walked, through Southeast Magnolia and into Briarcliff and finally, at long last, to a deserted strip of beach at the edge of Puget Sound where we took refuge amongst a clutter of driftwood.
"Lie down and sleep," Russ advised softly. "Plenty of time to talk after morning breaks."
I lay down in the sand without argument, shivering at the chill of night held in the grains of shell, rock, and silica. He sat cross-legged beside me, offering his lap for a pillow. I accepted, but I didn't sleep right away. A blush of lighter blue and pink tinged the eastern sky, fading to the indigo of deep night in the west.
I watched the stars as they faded one by one with the coming dawn and fell asleep wondering what this new day would bring.