Archangel Rafe (A Novel of The Seven Book 1) (16 page)

“I’m going crazy.” She fisted her hand as if she considered punching him. “I can’t touch anyone.” She pressed back into the mound of pillows on the bed. This was not the best place for a conversation. Her mind kept going back to sex.

“I need to monitor your energy levels.” Rafe deliberately touched her wrist. Tension slammed into her along with the heavy rush of desire.

“Don’t touch me unless you mean it,” she snarled.

Unless he was willing to penetrate her. The images in her brain were like gasoline on a fire. The temperature inside the room rose as the scent of their pheromones mingled, tantalizing her.

“Look.” Her face flushed bright red, but then she straightened her shoulders and addressed him directly, “I haven’t had sex in months and the past few weeks of dream sex are killing me.”

And if she distracted him with sex then maybe she could forget how completely freaked out she was by this whole situation. No question her experience with Mrs. Hooper had been amazing. But....

“We need to complete your training.”

She held still. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

Rafe began as if they hadn’t just had a standoff. “Healing is a form of energy transfer.” He stroked a rough finger along the smooth cool satin trim, and wished he could access the simple pleasure of learning her skin as easily.

“Okay.”

“Energy flows at all scales, from the quantum level to the biosphere and Cosmos,” Rafe lectured. “So the trick is to push your energy into their bodies even as you take in the negative energy from their ailments.”

“So why did I pass out with the acupuncturist that first time?”

“Because you took in too much negative energy and your system couldn’t handle it.” Rafe explained. “If overloaded, the body shuts down in order to repair itself. Part of the reason Angels can’t cure every ill in the world is your body cannot handle the energy overload.”

She nodded. “Makes sense.”

“Normally, you must touch them in the heart nadis or the fourth chakra in order to facilitate the healing process.”

“Where?”

He brushed his fingers against the silk of her skin over her heavy protective breastbone. Her heart thudded against his fingertips. He jerked away as her nipples beaded under her cotton top. “The root of all healing comes from this center. The center of compassion.”

The compulsion to cup those beautiful globes, to pluck at the symbols of her desire was a near obsession. He yearned to learn every erogenous zone on her body and ply her with sensual touches until she melted.

She looked away from the lust he knew was on his face. “But....”

Rafe slowly curled his hand into a fist and pulled away from the temptation.

“That’s not where I touched Peter, or Brandt, or Mrs. Hooper.”

He froze as her words sank in. He hadn’t paid attention. From the start of their interactions, he’d been distracted, focused on his ascension to the Second Sphere, or on Angelina and sex, rather than on her transition.

A healer who could heal from other nadis or energy points was extremely rare.
Un ange avec le pouvoir déviant.
An angel with deviant powers. Except in this case, the deviant wasn’t bad. It was very, very good. And very, very rare. In fact, in all of his centuries as Archangel, Rafe had never dealt with one. He had assumed they were a mythical legend rather than real.

“Start with the alternative doctor. Show me where you touched him.” With all of the conflicting emotions that swirled in him, his words came out harsher than he intended.

With deliberation, Angelina held up her own arm and wrapped her fingers around her other wrist. Rafe was mesmerized. With her hand positioned just so, he could visualize her hand wrapped around a different part of his anatomy.

His blood burned a trail of desire through his veins and condensed in a painful rush to his cock. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand, to teach her how to use her healing gift, and not on his body’s betrayal.

This attraction was impossible and ridiculous.

“I need to get laid,” he muttered.

Angelina let go and her gaze dropped to his crotch. She slaughtered him with her laser gaze. “I thought it was against the rules.”

“Just not with humans.”

“So it’s just me?”

Rafe edged closer, so close that their bodies were a mere breath apart, and he whispered, “I would be with you, if I could.” This fierce, protective woman with her pride and her capacity to care for all humans, touched his protective instincts.

His one goal had been to remove himself from the human race, yet suddenly he was drawn to the very being he thought he despised.

“It’s just sex.” But her gaze shifted away from him.

Maybe that was all she could handle. He’d seen the pressure she was under to care for everyone. Perhaps that was all she thought she wanted, but it didn’t matter.

“It isn’t just sex,” Rafe denied. “It’s a shift in the energy of the Universe.”

“I think you place too much importance on one little act of fornication.” She snorted with disgust.

Part of the problem was he felt more alive in her presence than he had in a very long time. He needed to train her and get away from her. Because temptation was slowly eroding his resolve and if they had sex, it would destroy them both. “It is impossible.”

“Why?”

“Thousands of years ago the Grigori were ordinary citizens of the Angelic Realm but then they mated with humans.”

“Oh the horror, half-breeds?” she mocked. “Come on, Rafe. We’re a global, mixed race society now.”

Rafe understood her disbelief but history bore out that inhabitants of the Angelic Realm and humans should not mate. “The products of those matings were the Nephilim.”

“Fancy names. Who cares?”

“The Nephilim perpetrated horrific crimes on the human population and tried to destroy the Earth.”

She leaned toward him. “What kind of crimes?”

“Plagues, tsunamis, monsoons, locusts.”

“So where are the Nephilim now?”

“Wiped out.”

“How?”

“In the flood when Noah saved the animals.” Rafe had a faraway look on his face. “Gabriel warned Noah but that was it.”

“I thought that was just a story.”

“No. The great flood was conjured by Gabriel to destroy the Nephilim on earth.”

Angelina impulsively grabbed his arm. The electricity of his energy arced into her. The sensations were unbearably erotic. With her hand on him, she could literally see the sexual energy he suppressed. She dropped his arm as if burned.

“But other people survived, isn’t it possible that some of the Nephilim survived as well?”

“It is possible,” Rafe conceded. “But not probable.”

“If they did survive.” She pressed. “Would they still try to destroy the Earth and humans?”

He finally answered, “It’s believed they would try to wreak their havoc upon this realm again.”

“What about the Grigori? What happened to them?”

“They became Fallen. Bound and sent to the Banished Realm.”

“They aren’t part of your...?”

“Sphere. No.”

“You think the Grigori could escape and try to destroy humans again?”

The look on his face was contemplative. “I would be extremely unhappy if the Grigori were to succeed in taking over the Earth.”

“You sound surprised.”

“A few weeks ago I would not have answered the question the same way.” His silvery gray eyes shone with an unearthly light.

“So something changed your mind.”

“Some
one.
”

He meant her. She had changed his opinion about the survival of the Earth. A swell of pleasure rolled over her. But why had she changed his mind? Maybe he hadn’t been around humans very much. “How often do you have contact with humans?”

“As little as possible.”

“Why?”

“The times I am in the human realm, usually there is some great tragedy or disaster. Before I began your training, I spent several days in Afghanistan helping the healers with the after effects of an improvised explosive device.”

Angelina saw the pain as he remembered, and her heart ached for the unnecessary destruction.

His disgust returned. “Humans have the capacity to destroy the earth without the aide of the Nephilim.”

“So are you a Grigori?”

“What?”

“I had to ask.” Because of their situation. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words out loud. But the truth was he lusted after her. The energy was there, shimmering in the air around them.

His gaze held misery. He didn’t want to be attracted to her. At all. “No. I am not Grigori.”

That must be truth. If he were Grigori, sex with her would not be discouraged. It would probably be encouraged.

He really couldn’t have sex with her. And the pain of that blow whirled through her.

Just her luck.

TWENTY-FOUR

The vast chamber of the Angelic Powers Laboratory was silent except for the hum of power that emanated from the walls and the bank of computers along the far wall. Behind Rafe were lab tables with concrete counter tops set up with microscopes and Bunsen burners. The refrigerators were sectioned off according to the various kinds of pathogens that threatened human destruction. Animal borne viruses, H1N1, salmonella, aids, and cancer were on the left, and biological weapons, bio-terrorism, anthrax, Sarin gas, and other human-engineered pathogens were on the right.

The huge library of medical journals from the AMA and WHO vied for space with scientific texts on the history and development of biological weapons as well as ancient texts on Ayurveda and herbal remedies. Yards of bookshelves stretched across the frescoed walls and rose towards the three-story ceiling.

Before he’d been tasked with her transition, Rafe had spent most of his time here, searching for cures to naturally occurring diseases, and antidotes to the ever-increasing biological warfare threats. He bent over the microscope and stared at the mutated virus under magnification. The strain was definitely H7N1 but the protein enzyme chain was unusual.

What he really needed to do was to go to the village and examine the human population.

His eyelids drooped, rough and irritating against his eyeballs. The grating sensation should have been enough to keep him awake. Although he needed little sleep, he’d been awake for over sixty hours straight. The constant stimulus had finally begun to affect his awareness.

He’d left Angelina while she worked on visualizations to help her control the
Vis viva
. He had needed to leave her presence. He acknowledged her hurt and, though it was for the best, he hadn’t liked the feelings that came over him. He was a healer who couldn’t fix her sadness, and that didn’t sit well with him. She deserved better from him.

Something else bothered him. He’d overlooked the worry because he’d been so busy fighting his attraction to her.

He was so tired. His head bobbed again, and he fell into the abyss. Oblivion welcomed him with open arms as he tumbled into unconsciousness and the much-needed respite from his problems.

Peripherally he could feel the hard surface of the chair beneath his butt and the cool tabletop under his cheek. He knew he should lift his head and get back to work, but his eyes refused to open and his body began to drift on a sea of exhaustion.

The sweet scent of gardenia perfumed the air and heralded Angelina. Rafe’s mouth curled in welcome.

He’d hurt her. He’d seen the distress in her gaze as her shoulders curved in. But she didn’t hurt now. Air flowed like a brush along his skin, the musky scent of aroused woman reached his senses. Not just any aroused woman. Angelina. Her nearness triggered his desire and flooded him with feral attraction. Before he could even move, he sensed her behind him, could feel the gentle movement of air as her hand fluttered over the muscles in his back.

Rafe stood and turned slowly as if trudging through the humid wet heat of a southern afternoon. She trailed her fingertips light as a feather over his bare shoulder and along his collarbone. The touch should have been barely noticeable. Instead desire shimmied through him like a jolt of electricity.

“I’m sorry.” Here in the dream, he could apologize.

He drank in the sight of her nude body. Her lushly rounded hips. The gentle dip in her waist. The full globes of her breasts. Nipples the color of warmed peaches. He dreamed of lapping at the peaks. He could almost feel the nub in his mouth as he tongued the hard bud and sucked her sweet femininity. Worshiped her as he couldn’t when awake.

And she began to caress him. He memorized the rosy skin of her breasts, the flush of desire high on her cheekbones, and the languorous sensuality in her hazel eyes, as she explored his body. His cock pulsed with sensation as she plucked at his nipples with a lazy stroke.

Blood engorged his erection as he stood unmoving. She stepped closer. Heat poured off her body and warmed his soul. She slid her right hand toward his cock and paused at the curls that surrounded his swollen, eager sex. Finally she slid her hand home and curled around him. She stepped even closer, her nipples brushed his chest, and her tongue traced a wet trail up the side of his neck.

The veins in his arms stood out as he held himself rigid against her sensual exploration. She left no inch of his skin untouched as she lovingly laved him with her mouth and explored his body with her hands. Even as he knew this was a dream, he could not let go of his control.

But she tested him as she sank down the length of his body. Her breasts brushed against his stomach, and her palms trailed down his back until she rested on her knees. Her hands kneaded his butt as she licked her way closer to his rock hard erection. When her tongue flicked over the head of his sex, he groaned, low and deep in his throat. The sound ripped from him as if he could not contain the desire that roared through him.

Angelina hummed softly and pulled him closer. She sucked the just the tip of his erection into the warm cavern of her mouth and flattened her tongue over the sensitive head. She devoured him, practically inhaled him.

With all of his considerable control, he forced his hands and arms to hang at his sides. She sucked him further into her mouth and began to mimic the sex act. Her nipples rubbed against his thighs, and her arms wrapped around his hips to urge him further until he was loving her mouth with the roughness of an untried youth.