Of Consuming Fire (8 page)

With a resigned sigh, Grace returned to bed, lay down, and pulled the covers over her head. Feeling as though she had taken a giant step back through years of progress, Grace wept.

• • •

Jayden leaned back against the pile of rubble and counted silently in his head, trying desperately to block out the sounds filling the hallway.

The defilers were … having
sex
.

The mouthy one and the blond one were in a room in the middle of the hall. The woman was moaning her mate’s name over and over, and the blond one’s accelerated breathing was so loud it sounded like continuous groans. But even more shockingly, similar sounds were coming from the room two doors closer to where Jayden stood where the blue-eyed one and the small, pregnant delicate one slept. What they could be doing when the female was so pregnant that
breathing
was uncomfortable, Jayden had no idea. And he tried hard not to imagine.

Jayden wanted to be disgusted with their obvious weakness for each other, but even his jaded mind had to acknowledge that what was happening between the couples was more than sex. Their emotions were rolling through the doors and slapping him upside the mind again and again. They were so in
love
with each other. Every thought that reached him was dripping with unbelievable pleasure and unbelievable care for the person they were with.

Jayden was about to fly apart at the seams.

He wanted his Temptation so badly he could taste it. He was standing as close to freedom and as far from the happy couples as he could get, trying to block out all of his senses. It was not working.

He buried his face in his hand and tried to breathe evenly and block out the sounds that were severely trying his control.

But then a sound reached him that was so distinct that he could not have blocked it out if he tried.

His Temptation wept.

Jayden straightened. His hearing narrowed, and for the first time, he was able to block the two couples out. He zoomed in on the door of his Temptation’s room and cocked his head to the side.

Her ragged breathing flew down the hall and to his ears, slamming into him like a physical blow.

He staggered back, his wings brushing the rubble he had been leaning against, before surging forward. He flew down the hall before he could stop himself, and the next he was aware, he was pressed against her door. His forehead pressed against the metal. His hands were splayed at shoulder height. Every fiber of his body strained to be on the other side of the door.

Her thoughts were so dark that the cold seeped into his bones. He saw through her eyes the abuse of a human man. A man she had trusted.

Jayden yanked himself from her mind like he had been branded by what he found. His rapid breathing echoed through the hallway, and as he looked down, he noticed his hands were shaking. He did not want to know more. Feared what would have happened if he had stayed inside her mind to find out any more details. Feared what would happen with what little he had just learned.

He stumbled back until his back met the wall. Someone had hurt her. Hurt his Temptation. She hurt still. And he knew nothing about helping her. Knew instinctively that if he tried, it would only make things worse.

Something he had read in the mouthy one’s mind filtered to the forefront of his thoughts.
She
had been hurt. Was now strong.

Jayden knew it was a bad idea before he even started walking toward the room that housed the mouthy one and her mate, but he could not stop himself.
Someone
needed to help his Temptation.

He hesitated for only a second before knocking twice on the door. The passionate sounds within abruptly stalled. The bed creaked, and then the door was thrown open.

The blond one glowered at Jayden from the doorway. The human was completely naked and, Jayden noticed right before immediately jerking his eyes to the ceiling, blatantly aroused. “What,” the defiler growled.

“Jericho,” the mouthy one whispered low enough she probably thought Jayden would not hear. “Win him over.”

Jayden sighed and forced himself to look into the room past the blond one’s shoulder. The mouthy one lay in bed, a sheet held up to her chin, her eyes curious. “She cries,” Jayden said, appalled at the hopeless quality to his voice. “And I do not know what — ”

Luckily, he did not have to say anymore. The woman leapt from the bed and began jerking on clothes, wrenching a curse from her mate who closed the door slightly and looked at Jayden with even more hate than the angel thought possible. “Don’t you dare look at her,” the blond one said.

Jayden was not remotely interested in seeing this man’s mate bare, but Jayden did not respond. Moments later, the woman edged past her man, kissing him quickly on the cheek, and hustled down the hall to his Temptation’s room.

“Grace?” the woman asked through the door. When there was no answer, she simply opened the door and went in.

Jayden was so focused on her actions that the brush along his forearm startled him into a defensive position. He jerked his eyes back to the blond one just in time to watch the man drop his hand from Jayden’s skin. Jayden felt his eyes narrow, and immediately, he sent probes into the man’s mind, trying to prepare for an attack of some kind.

He touched Jayden to use the gift of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil on him. What was more, the man was apparently shocked that he received both a
good
and an
evil
reading from the Knowledge.

Jayden was shocked, too. Angels were not regularly exposed to the Knowledge, but he could not imagine that they would be
either
good or evil. Angels just were.

The blond one looked at Jayden with a curious mix of lessening anger and increasing intrigue, and then said, “Dahlia will take care of her, angel. Don’t you worry.”

Jayden threw his shoulders back and glared. “I worry about nothing, human. You would do well to remember that.” Jayden stalked back down the hall and took up his station against the rubble again, studiously preventing himself from reaching out toward the minds in the room at the end of the hall to see if his Temptation’s hurt was abating at all.

When Grace woke the next morning, still exhausted from a night of crying, her first coherent thought was of a pleasant warmth at her back.

The
warmth
made her stiffen, but the
pleasant
delayed any immediate leap from bed. She felt her brow furrow as she tried to get her bearings, and then she realized that someone was in the bed with her.

Before panic could set in, Grace remembered that it was Dahlia. The woman had come to her rescue the night before and then sat with her all through the night, simply making sure Grace was not alone while she cried. It was the first time in her life someone had done such a thing for Grace.

Moving so slowly it could barely be called moving at all, Grace turned from her side to her back and looked at Dahlia. The woman was sitting on an impossibly small span of mattress. Her head was tossed far back, but Grace could still see her sleep-closed eyes and her slightly slack mouth. Dahlia’s back was propped against the headboard; her left hand rested on her slight baby bump, and her right hand rested on Grace’s shoulder.

Grace sucked in a breath and braced for the pain human touch always brought.

Nothing.

It didn’t hurt. Grace stared at the slim, brown hand for what seemed like an eternity before she admitted that, not only didn’t the touch hurt, but Grace didn’t necessarily
mind
it.

The revelation was earth shattering.

Dahlia’s hand was warm, and comforting. Grace frowned, but still didn’t move away. Perhaps the fruit had healed more than just her physical wounds?

The door to her room was wide open, so nothing impeded the cacophonous sound of a door flinging open down the hall. Dahlia jerked awake, and Grace sat up so quickly she felt dizzy.

“Help,” a man’s distressed voice yelled out. “We need help!”

Grace and Dahlia swung into the hall, one right after the other and saw a very panicked Eli Johnson standing in the hallway.“Eli?” Dahlia asked in a voice still smothered by sleep.

Three doors down, another door opened as Jericho rushed into the hall. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Abilene’s water broke.” Eli’s blue eyes rolled around in panic. “I think she’s in labor.”

Grace felt her mouth drop open, and as one, all three of them ran down the hallway toward the rapidly unraveling Eli. Jericho and Dahlia asked questions simultaneously, ducking into the room and rushing to Abilene’s side.

Grace stopped at the doorway.

Abilene looked fine. More than fine, actually. She was propped up against the headboard quietly reading a book.

Jericho and Dahlia immediately calmed as well. Dahlia walked to Abilene’s side and began a quiet conversation with her while Jericho diverted to Eli to try to calm him — he was the only one in distress in the room.

Grace heard a noise to her left, and turned her head. The angel was at his usual post: leaning up against the rubble of the cave-in. He wasn’t looking at her, though something told Grace she had his full attention. It didn’t appear as though he had moved even one of his beautiful feathers since Eli’s announcement, but his body was thrumming with tension. His wings were cocked and ready for flight, and the feathers were shimmering.

He must have felt her eyes on him, because he lifted his head and looked at her. His eyes were so beautiful. Grace felt herself flinch as pain worse than any she had felt so far rocketed through her body.

The angel’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth opened as though he were going to speak.

She quickly dragged her gaze from the angel and back into Abilene’s room, needing to distract herself from the pain before she did something foolish. Jericho had gotten Eli to calm a bit, and Dahlia was still talking to Abilene. Dahlia moved to one of the many monitors lining Abilene’s bed and read the feed to her.

“Wait,” Abilene said, straightening in her bed. “What?”

Dahlia repeated the feed.

The only piece of equipment Grace recognized, the heart monitor, began to speed up.

“That can’t be right,” Abilene said, shaking her head. Abilene reached a hand beneath the blankets as the room turned deadly quiet. The look of concentration on her angelic face disintegrated into absolute horror. “Oh, God, I feel like I’m ten centimeters already.”

Eli walked to her side and grabbed her hand. “Um, isn’t that a good thing, baby?”

Abilene swallowed a huge gulp of air, her ringlets bouncing vigorously as she shook her head. “But there’s no pain!” Her voice ended on a hysterical note. “Oh my God, there’s something wrong.”

Grace’s heart plummeted, and she stepped forward as everyone in the room began to lose their cool. They were severely unprepared for a complicated delivery.

Grace jumped as the angel’s voice sounded from right beside her. “Of course there is no pain, human,” he said softly.

Even though his voice had been quiet, everyone stopped mid-word and turned to him. He
tsk’
ed in annoyance. “She has eaten of the Tree of Eternal Life,” the angel said shortly and with an air that led Grace to believe that he thought he had just explained everything. If the others’ expressions were any indication, they were still just as confused as she was.

With a sigh, the angel continued, “Her delivery will be entirely painless. Excruciating labor is a curse of the Tree of Knowledge. That one,” he nodded unceremoniously at Dahlia, “will have a
very
difficult time. But you, little human,” he turned to Abilene, “will feel nothing.”

Very slowly, they all turned to look at Dahlia. Grace watched as the blood drained from her face, an ashen look spreading beneath her warm caramel skin. “E-excuse me?” Dahlia asked.

The angel frowned. “I sincerely believe you would not want to know details.” The statement was delivered without any inflection. Without any emotion. But the words were so grave a chill skittered up Grace’s spine.

Dahlia attempted a laugh, but it came out forced. “I’ve gone through labor before, angel. I know it’s no picnic.”

The angel shook his head. “Not like this, you have not.”

Dahlia took a step back. Her eyes grew wide, and she nodded once. Then her knees failed her. Jericho caught her just before she hit the floor. “Shit! Sweetheart?” When Dahlia gave no response, he hauled her up into his arms and cradled her against his chest. With a venomous glare at the angel, he stalked forward. “What the
hell
is wrong with you, angel!” Then, just as quickly, his face fell into utter hopelessness. “Will she … she won’t …
die
, will she?”

They all waited impatiently for the angel to answer, and his facial expression did not put Grace at ease. “She has eaten of the Tree of Eternal Life. In the end, the birth of her child will not be what ends her.”

Which, Grace noticed, was not a
no
. And, once again, Grace was reminded of this angel’s endgame: their deaths.

Jericho’s eyes turned bleak, and he kissed his unconscious wife on the forehead. Grace moved aside as Jericho carried Dahlia out while mumbling nonsense into her hair. His deep voice cut off abruptly as he closed them into their room. Grace looked back to Abilene, who had a hand covering her mouth, a look of horror painting her features. Eli was whispering in her ear, obviously trying to calm her, but the heart monitor was still beeping extraordinarily fast.

Grace glared at the angel. “Well done, you complete ass,” she hissed. Profanity was usually beneath her — she had so many more refined ways of using words to cut someone to the quick — but nothing seemed to embody this situation better.

The angel’s eyes flared as though he was surprised at Grace’s rancor, and then he looked at the frantic couple across the room and heaved a resigned sigh.

With slow steps, the angel made his way toward Abilene. “Human, you must calm. You are not in danger, and your anxiousness is bad for the child.”

Abilene’s eyes snapped in his direction, a very clear expression of
you’ve gotta be kidding me
on her face. “Are you completely deranged?” she asked him in a loud voice. “Who says that to a pregnant woman? Who?”