Guardian Angel (13 page)

“Ohh…do tell,” they purred in unison, creeping towards the now totally human individual, lying unconscious on the sofa. Garamond slapped one of the sisters hand as it crept towards the human. He needed the man alive and wasn't prepared to let the sisters get their claws on him. She yelped and crept back with catlike movements, grinning all the while.

“
There is a mortal on this little green ball I wish to corrupt, and I need your help to do it. I need you to influence the mortal's passions, bring his emotions to the fore. Then, afterwards, I need you to create a little….accident, a lethal one for him.”

“
Why can't you do it yourself?" One sister begun before her sister mocked, "
mighty one.
”

“
Because I cannot be seen to be involved. Other infernal powers must carry out this act, and I know you're perfectly suited to the task. Here are the details. I trust your human hosts will allow you to move around more easily, although don’t hesitate to discard them if you need to.”

Garamond handed the women a slip of paper each. They would get jealous if only one received it, as had occurred in the past. It had cost him a very important victory. The note contained the details of Michael’s dinner date with Claire, including the train times, and her address. Infernal spies really did find dirt easily; they likely worked for tabloid newspapers when they had been mortal.

In reality, the accident Garamond had created had been intended to Kill Michael. But the plan's failure had created an even better opportunity. He was going about it all wrong and had already planned an excellent way of corrupting the mortal.

“
Oooo, this sounds like lots of fun." Both succubi said at once. "Thank you for bringing us in on this one. It'll be delicious,” The sisters coo’d in excitement.

“
See that you don’t fail.”

“
Weee won't.” Their reply was in a child's mocking tone.

“
Now go. Replenish yourselves. You're going to need plenty of power on this plane and I'm sure you'll have fun getting it.”

 
The sisters bowed in unison, their demonic forms melding and finally disappearing into their human hosts. They looked like the two serving girls they had possessed, with the exception of deep purple eyes. They left the bar, swinging their hips sensuously with every movement. Garamond stood up, leaving his previous host a wedge of money to pay for his excesses. Garamond summoned deep red infernal flames around him, returning to his throne beneath London to await the next phase of his plan.

***

It was half past eight in the evening when Michael and Jasmine got home. What Michael thought would be a short trip to see a work friend had turned into another long and eventful day. It didn’t help that, as usual, they got stuck in traffic on the way home.

During the trip home, the taxi driver had kept talking, banging on about the latest celeb gossip or football scores. However, eventually he stopped trying when Michael’s polite replies turned into short murmurs as Michael struggled to focus his thoughts. The cabbie eventually gave up.

Of all the things to be fixating on, after the long day filled with miraculous songs, strange dark men and demonic attacks, Michael found himself fixating on that short but electric kiss from Jasmine. She had told him that kind of thing was a taboo, that guardian angel’s didn’t do that kind of thing, yet she had still kissed him. Had it simply been born of the moment? Or a platonic kiss? If so, it seemed to mean more. Then again, maybe he was just indulging in wishful thinking.

The ideas churned away as he pondered the consequences and imagined all kinds of possible futures. What if the kiss did mean more? What if they wanted to take things further? What if they wanted to get married?

The last thought had Michael struggling to stifle his laughter. All they had shared was a brief kiss after a dangerous situation, and here was his mind creating outrageous scenarios. He had a tendency to go off on tangents and imagine things to all kinds of extremes; it was what often felt nervous in romantic situations.

He looked over at Jasmine a few times during the journey, but she stared out of the window with a thoughtful expression on her face, never turning round, even though Michael was sure she knew he was glancing at her.

***

Jasmine was too focused on what had happened. Like her charge, the thoughts of the kiss played in her mind. She forced them away, to consider things far more important; the Spectre’s attack and the dark man who could only have been an Infernal, one of the strongest types of Demon. He could have been a true fallen, one of the Beasts chosen. It could have been Garamond himself, for all Jasmine knew.

Things were getting dangerous, and far quicker than Jasmine had imagined. If that creature had intended true harm to Michael, it could have killed him in seconds while she cowered on the floor. That thought was what kept Jasmine from looking Michael in the eye; the idea she had failed him, been unable to help. It was something she had never experienced before, feeling powerless.

The cab journey ended, and Michael paid the driver his fee, politely thanked him and got out. Jasmine followed, hopping daintily onto the pavement just before Michael shut the door and the cab drove off. All the levity and happiness she used to feel was fading from her. Jasmine used to feel so light and was kind of ditzy, but her focus had become sharper now, and her soul deeper, more determined. Was this a gift or a burden?

 
They walked over to the door in silence, Jasmine focused on her thoughts and worries. Michael had just opened it up when Jasmine felt the urge to grab his arm. He immediately tensed up his tired body, looking like he was getting ready for danger.

“
Michael….” Jasmine's voice was barely above a whisper.

“
What's wrong?” Michael replied shaking slightly. He looked worried about something. Was he expecting something to be waiting for them at home?

“
I’m sorry,” Jasmine looked up with tearful eyes.

“
Huh?” was all Michael could manage, looking confused more than scared now.

“
I let you down in the alley." Jasmine said at length fighting her tears down.

"
My job is to protect you, not cower when real danger comes. I just couldn’t carry on without apologising to you. I promise to never let you down like that again. No matter what happens, I will keep you safe."

Michael was stunned; As far as he was concerned, she had done nothing wrong. What was she even talking about? She had protected him from the Spectre, although with his help. She had been nothing but a source of strength since before he even realised she was there. His first thought was to tell her not to worry, and that she had done everything right. Maybe the tiredness was addling his reason, or maybe it was just empathy, but Michael hugged Jasmine tightly.

 
He'd never put more feeling into an embrace in his entire life. He held Jasmine with all the love, caring and forgiveness he could muster. She tensed up in his arms, even manifesting her wings in surprise. The feathers tickled Michael's arm, but he wasn't going to let go. Jasmine stared past him with wide eyes before slowly shutting them and hugging him back.

“
Thank you,” she whispered into his ear.

  That night Michael and Jasmine needed no more words. Jasmine sat in silence for a while before Michael went to bed. She followed, lying next to him, on a bed that seldom kept more than one. She stared into his eyes for a long while before Michael finally gave into his tiredness and fell asleep. Jasmine had never felt more like Jazen and his inappropriate feelings, but for some reason it didn’t feel wrong anymore. She lay behind Michael and covered him gently with her wings, draping her arm over his side.

She lightly kissed the back of Michael’s neck and ignored the voice of reason telling her this was against all the rules. She allowed her feelings to flow free for a few precious moments as she hummed softly to Michael while he slept.

“
I will keep you safe, Michael, I promise,” Jasmine whispered. She through the night to ward off any nightmares and ensure Michael's dreams were pleasant.

Chapter 6: Difficult Choices

  Sunbeams shone brightly every day in
the heavens. On this day, however dark grey clouds loomed on the horizon. Such an omen was never a good one; the darkness usually meant infernal activities. The symphony though sung even more strongly than usual, the rising voices and heavy notes resonating with a powerful passion that only rarely manifested.

Metatron stared at the dark horizon and shuffled his wings to loosen his feathers. He had been aware the moment Jasmine had broken the rules with her charge. The emotions, the closeness, had influenced the symphony in a subtle way, at first, but later had formed the rising notes he now heard. There was a risk of them growing closer, of course, but he'd been told not to interfere, to “have faith.” But now a double niggled at the back of his mind.

For a moment, Metatron found himself questioning the rules. Why couldn’t a Guardian develop feelings for their charge? Such things had occurred in the past, on a fairly regular basis, leading to the birth of the half-angel Grigori. The Grigori had, for the most part, only added to the heavenly Symphony and been an asset to Heaven’s hosts. Some fell, though, corrupted through their human halves. 

He leaned on the balcony, staring deep into the storm clouds, and shook his head in frustration. Questioning divine mandate was wrong. He should not be allowing himself such latitude, not in his position; second only to Gabriel in the choirs and the direct voice of the Almighty.

  He should ask for guidance again, if only to clarify whether Jasmine should be reprimanded for her behaviour. Metatron left the balcony and returned to his chambers. He knelt within the centre of the room, carefully folding back his wings so as not to sit on them. He raised his head up in prayer and pressed his palms together.

  The instruments suspended around him began playing in unison, connected to the heavenly music, A few discordant notes had crept in, but Metatron ignored them, focusing on the task at hand. His wings glowed, and a shaft of light enveloped him. He closed his eyes, enjoying the moment of contact; the sensation of warmth and love never failed to move him.

“Lord, I pray for an answer, regarding Jasmine and her human charge, Michael. Do we interfere to help them? Do I punish Jasmine for breaking the laws of our Guardian Angels?” Metatron half spoke, half sang into the light. It wasn’t necessary to say it out loud, but he preferred to, anyway.

  The reply was instant, sounding within his mind; a voice so powerful it could shake the very foundation of the Earth, yet so gentle it would not disturb the slumber of a child.

“
Jasmine is not to be punished, only watched. Her charge is facing a time of trials, but he has the tools and strengths he needs. Have faith”

 
The beam of light vanished as abruptly as it had appeared, ascending into the ceiling. Metatron climbed to his feet, pondering the words. The Lord’s replies were always cryptic but always true. In this case, however, they confused Metatron. Jasmine had grown too close to her charge, and yet she was not to be punished, where Jazen had been reprimanded for exactly the same thing.

Perhaps Michael being aware of Jasmine made them a special case, but surely a word of caution would have led Jasmine down a safer path. The whole situation created a dangerous conflict of interests.

But the words
“Have faith,” spoken again, rang like a gong in Metatron’s soul. He knew there was a plan for the pair, he just had to believe in them, in the Almighty, and as always in himself.

 
“Have faith” Metatron whispered the words, as he left his chambers to go about his daily duties.

***

   Thursday morning came dow
n on Earth with a bright ray of sunlight through Michael’s window. He opened his eyes, blinking against the penetrating light, and raised an arm over his head to shield his eyes. He turned to stare directly into both the most beautiful and frightening sight for any man, first thing in the morning: the face of a woman lying next to him.

 
Jasmine's eyes were shut, and she breathed softly onto Michael’s skin. Her breath smelt of her namesake, sweet and refreshing. She looked serene, lying there asleep. Michael was suprised Guardians even needed sleep, but it seemed the last few days had taken their toll on Jasmine as much as him.