1606010611-When-a-Good-Angel-Falls-Kougar.doc (7 page)

I hear that.

You hear my prayers?

For awhile now. Since I was assigned to you.

Great! Get us out of here, will you?

Your prayer is my command.

A carnal cherub hears my prayers. What a lovely thought!
She iced, clinging as he sailed over the top the trail, then soared high above a small mountain valley.
This is fun!

You ain’t seen nothing yet.

I do see Nazerazzi Hummers below us. Curve of road.

The cavalry has arrived. And they’re not on our side.

Checkpoint.
Sedona watched the flurry of activity below as if they still traveled on the road.

Jet mode, Sedona. I’ve found an empty cabin.

A force locked around them like shielding. In a fraction of a second they thrust to a speed where only blurs existed. She knew stinger drones chased them, since she heard the flight hisses of sound. In the next instant, bursts of blue beams zapped around them.

She’d only seen snippets of such chases on news reports, heard about them from the underbloggers. The Martial Law regime wanted their black ops capabilities kept secret.

Sci-fi incredible.
Her blood burst savagely through her body. Thrilled and scared, Sedona gripped him even though she didn’t need to, and savored
her strange adventure.

They dived at jet speed, a steep long angle toward green and what appeared to be a thick pine forest. A peek of sun showed through the haze and clouds, the blood red shafts of light striking the ground.

Volcano flew toward the rays. Red particles of light slid around them, and seemed to mask the entire cycle. Then he dived again, but slowed, sliding them into an immense pine forest. A strange silence surrounded them as they sailed a narrow path through the great majestic trees.

Masking shield,
he explained in the unnatural quiet.

No smells, either.

Cabin up ahead. Fireplace.

Do you chop wood?

If you want, I’ll show off. Or I could just light your fire.

You aren’t planning carnal activities in front of the fireplace!
Sedona panicked. Let go of him.

There’s a feather mattress bed.

Oh, my god! No!

Cinnamon tea?

How do you know about cinnamon tea?

Cherub knowledge absorption. Your matrix.

Absolutely essential to protecting me. I suppose!

Knowledge is always power in protecting you. Taking care of you.

Justify it how you want. It’s an invasion of my privacy!

Wouldn’t a lover discover what pleases you?

You’re not my lover.

I will be.

No! No, you won’t!

Dinner first? Music? Dancing? Massage? Bubble bath?

Bubble bath! How?
Sedona disbelieved, but then she didn’t know his cherubim powers either. It had been ages since she’d been able to just leisurely soak in a hot tub of bubbles.

Celestial magic. I’ll wash your back.

You can’t. I don’t want you seeing my body.

I already have. Foxy Lady,
he Hendrix crooned.

Are you out of your heavenly mind?

Carnal world, carnal rules. You have fox red hair.

Used to have fox red hair! I don’t want you touching my body. Not that way. Not just you. No one. No man. No cherub man!

Sedona knew by his posture, he didn’t consider what she’d communicated a barrier. He slowed the cycle to cruising speed, lowering them to just above the forest floor.

Do you think you’ll be the guy to make the queen of angels sigh?
He sang Jim Morrison to her. Opening the cabin door with the power of his thought, he gently flew them inside.

Good idea, cherub. Go sing to the queen of the angels.
Sedona gazed around. Someone’s well-kept place of cozy comforts, although it looked as if it hadn’t been used for a long time. “Do you know who it belongs to?” she asked, removing her helmet, and dismounting slowly.

“Lovers, currently trapped in the Colorado Springs FEMA camp. Due to cross over soon.” He softly spoke, dismounting.

Sedona nodded. “One more horror story,” she murmured. “Their time to leave?”

“In this timeline, yes. Take my hand, Sedona. Help me create our protection sphere.”

“Can’t refuse when you put it like that.” Sedona grasped his hand, way too welcoming and feeling much too good. “What next?”

“Let your energy come to me. Watch in your mind’s eye.”

With utter fascination Sedona watched him paint the sphere around the cabin using their light streams. He used his intention like a huge brush.“The protection is stronger this way than by just our visualization,” he explained before she asked. Tenderly he released her hand. “Light your fire, baby?” he naughtily teased, moving over to the large stone fireplace, made of gorgeous natural slabs of caramel stone.

“Check the chimney?” she practically inquired, moving to shut the door. “You know bird nests, squirrels—blockages that could cause a sudden case of smoke inhalation.”

“Opened the flu,” he good-natured continued, kneeling down, gazing upwards. “X-ray cherubim sight.”

“Could be useful,” she tossed, teasing him. Sedona moved around the front area, trying not to think of the lovers.

The cabin was designed for two and decorated with cuddle furniture. One sweet simple sofa, and two comfortable reading chairs with ottomans had been arranged to face the fireplace. There was an old-fashioned futon, fake fur rugs, except for the giant lambswool covering, and a deep pile turkish rug, faded, but lovely. Wooden shelves lined one wall, holding little but blankets, mugs and saucers, and a pair of burned down pink candles.

“Wow!” Sedona stared at the replica of an original wood cooking stove,
similar to the one she remembered as a little girl on her grandmother’s farm near Garnet, Kansas. Sure enough there were charred remains of wood inside. “Neat. Electric or wood.”

“Solar array on the back roof,” Volcano spoke from the doorway of the kitchen-dining area.

“Too bad there’s not much sunlight. Lots of pots and pans. I could turn domestic goddess in my senior years.” She peeked
up at him from leaning over, and peering into the cabinets. “Even a back deck for those balmy summer evenings.”

“Or early mornings,” he spoke softly, opened the refrigerator. One lonely six pack of beer resided, cold from the temperature of the cabin, not the dark interior. “You don’t like beer,” he stated, shut the door.

“Why would a hot young cherub like you want early mornings out on a deck? I assume the birds still sing. Ever been to Earth before, except on
Woodstock
excursions?”

“Mother adores the wilderness areas for family vacations. Breakfast on the back deck. Complete with singing flitting birds. The usual wildlife scenes.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to impugn the family vacations. Fireplace?” She raised her brows.

“Roaring. More of a medium roar.”

He smiled, lighting her heart. She wished he hadn’t.

“And no smoke. Good job, cherub.” She followed him back to the front area. A tame crackling fire greeted them. “Guess you’ve been around the woods a few times. Actually I know nothing about it. Just what I’ve read and heard—TV shows, the old days.” She folded her arms and wondered how to proceed with the rest of her bizarre disappointment-riddled life. With him?

“Bathroom,” she murmured. “Wonder if it’s working.”

“I’ll make it all work, Sedona. Cherub power instead of solar power.” He nodded toward the other door off the front room, an intense hunger in his gaze.

“Thank you.” She spun away, her heart tripping. As she moved through the doorway into the bedroom, a warm light infused the room, dim from late afternoon. “Featherbed,” she gasped softly. It looked old-fashioned, if king size. In fact all the furniture was ‘old west’ dark cherry. Miss Kitty of
Gunsmoke
furnishings. Complete with bead-fringed dainty lamps.

Anticipation quivering her belly, she walked through to the bathroom, delight catching her unexpectedly. With the claw porcelain soaking tub, the room was Miss Kitty’s, except for the cleverly included modern necessities. The antique replica toilet flushed nicely.

Warm air hummed from the vent above. The cabin heat obviously power-supplied by the cherub. She tried the faucet. Water spilled out. Sparingly she used it and wished she had her organic lotions again. As usual, her skin was too dry. She avoided all the mirrors. No point in further traumatizing herself.

Given that the cherub cutie probably wouldn’t allow her to hide away, Sedona headed back toward the fireplace, ignoring the featherbed.

“Radio,” he announced, once she entered. “Found it.” He held it up. “George, the NightHawk, later?”

“Always have their revolutionary station on when I can. Any music stations?” The warmth of hearth blaze
s
drew her closer. “You sure they can’t find us here?”

“Massive grid search. This is the safest place now. They think we’ll keep running.”

“Are Dave BearFeather and his family safe?” Sedona moved before the sofa, and gave up. She sat on the thick fake fur rug , then hugged her knees.

“He persuaded them we were long gone, then smoked a fake peace pipe with them.”

“Give the enemy what they think they want. Just don’t give them what they actually want.. And smile a lot. The wise strategy.” Sedona rested her head on her knees. “How about you? Are you okay?”

“My well-being depends on your well-being.” Volcano sat beside her companionably, not too close. He reached forward with the fire poker, and stirred the embers.

“Just tired. Just traumatized. Just ‘lost’ as usual. I wish that weren’t true. To be honest, I don’t feel up to being responsible for your well-being.”

“Cinnamon tea will help. It’s brewing.”

“Thank you. How do you brew cinnamon tea with none here?”

“The ethers are one big shopping market,” he joked quietly.

“Bigger than Wal-Mart?” she dryly joked.

“Much cosmic bigger. Request?”

“Strawberry shortcake with real whipped cream. Like I used to make.”

“I can bring forth the ingredients, can’t make it, though. Never learned the art of Earth cooking despite Mother and Dad’s best attempts.”

“A helpless cherub in the kitchen,” she bantered.

“Hey! I can boil water with the best of the angels.” He reached back for her tea. Handed the mug to her.

The fragrance wonderful, Sedona sipped. “You can boil water, and you do make delicious cinnamon tea.”

“I can power up the oven.”

“Anything to whip the cream with?”

“Found drawers of kitchen utensils.”

“Sure, why not give it a try?” Sedona leaned back, and kept sipping the tea.

“What type of music do you like?”
Volcano stood, adding some flame essence to the fire place.

“Relaxing. Usually can’t stand that kind of music. I know. Anything new age Celtic? Harp music is good,” she half-teased. “Do you play?”

“Harp guitar with Jim Morrison’s muse. My band on the home world.”

“Bring any samples of whatever it is you put music on, or however you do it?”

“Vibrational jukebox, a frequency slot for everyone’s music. Still difficult to translate into Earth’s frequencies.”

Sedona wondered, letting her imagination run free for a moment. Just how celestially sexy did he look playing harp guitar?

She watched Volcano place his finger on the radio, and find a serene violin concerto. “I’ll show you in LA.”

“Show me what?” Sedona played innocent, and sipped.

“What you want to know, foxy lady.”

“Why? Do you know Jimi Hendrix’s muse?”

“Youth cherub crush on her. Actually he has two.”

“Has?”

“He’s on Venus currently, continuing the music he began here.”

“Darn! Trip to Venus? Does he play a national anthem there?”

“Odes. Odes to the Venutian landscapes. Persuade me, Sedona, I’ll take you to Venus, first chance we get.”

“Persuade you?” she challenged, gave him the older adult piercing eye.

“Let me make love to you just the way I want. Complete surrender, Sedona.”

She could hardly breathe. She stared at him without seeing, feeling glassy eyed. The rim of the mug touched her lips, and stayed. Finally she lowered the mug. “What does that mean in cherub terms? Or your terms?”

“My terms.” He faced her, totally man, and totally aroused beneath his celestial black leather pants.