SOUL MATES (Angels and Demons Book 3) (8 page)

Dylan spent more and more time wandering the silent countryside that lay outside the town limits of Dytonia. In the weeks after they’d found Ellie, things seemed to settle down for a time. Ellie was still recovering from her ordeal, as well as the shock of coming back into herself forty-five years after her last, concrete memory. It was a difficult situation for anyone, but particularly for Ellie, as Wilhelm was not always patient in his attempt to get answers out of her. But, so far, they had not learned anything new.

She was walking now and her thoughts were something of a jumble. One of Raphael’s men was walking behind her, at a respectful distance but close enough to protect her if something were to come out of thin air. She’d freaked out one of his other legion members a week ago when she disappeared right in front of him. But she’d only used the same gargoyle trick Stiles used to use with her when they’d first met. It came in handy when the enemy was human. But not with an enemy that could possess human bodies and move silently in and out of invisibility itself.

The trick was breaking through the lies Joanna had told Jack. Dylan knew Joanna. She knew she could weave lies like magic, making them seem so believable and so perfect that even God might believe them. She couldn’t think of anything that might convince Jack that they were lies, except bombarding him with the truth. But she was so clever, even that probably wouldn’t work.

Dylan walked for a while, and then she burst into the air, spreading her wings with such suddenness that she didn’t hear wings behind her for several minutes. It was sort of reassuring to know someone was watching over her, but it was a little annoying, too. The only person she wanted watching over her was Stiles and that was because she was used to him, used to his rhythms, and used to the steadiness of his presence. She didn’t want to be alone. But she didn’t want to be followed all the time, either.

She flew north, headed almost by instinct to the city where her daughter lived. Josephine was doing well with tiny Rhonda, enjoying the little joys of motherhood while stressing over the bigger questions. Dylan liked to peek in on her from time to time, happy to see her doing so much better than Dylan herself had done the first few months of Josephine’s life. But Josephine was older and better prepared. They were sleeping now, mother and child, napping in the middle of the long afternoon. Dylan touched the baby’s forehead and encouraged her to be kind to her mother. Then she left her with a grandmother’s soft kiss.

Dylan found herself in a familiar place a while later. The river where she’d met Wyatt still looked surprisingly as it had the first time she’d stumbled across it. She had been dehydrated then and on the verge of death. The water saved her life, as did the angel who had guided her to it. But she didn’t know that at the time; she didn’t appreciate the true importance of it at the time. Just as she didn’t appreciate how her life would change the next morning when she met Wyatt.

She was naked, having removed her clothes to allow them to dry. She was perched at the edge of the water, filling one of the water bottles the people of Genero had seen fit to provide her with when they’d abandoned her to the heat of the desert. She’d never seen a man before. He was amused by her fascination, aware immediately by her naivety where she was from.

She’d come here when he died. And, sometimes, she still felt closest to him here.

She knelt by the edge of the water and ran her fingers through the cool fluid, remembering how good it had felt on her burned, sore body that first night. She wasn’t sure whom she thought of more each time she came here: Stiles or Wyatt. Somehow they were both so completely interwoven in her memories that she couldn’t always separate one from the other.

“It’s a beautiful day.”

Dylan turned, expecting to find Raphael’s man standing behind her. Instead, she found another man watching her. He was tall and strong, the kind of man she could look at and just know he was an angel. His hair was like a halo of gold around his head and a little on the long side and curly, like the pictures of cherubs Dylan had seen in Rachel’s books about angels. His eyes were a steel blue, as different from Wyatt’s as they were similar. And he had this smile that just made her bones want to melt.

“It is,” she said, standing slowly. “Getting a little late, though.”

He glanced up at the sky. “I suppose by human standards, it is.”

“Who are you?”

He stepped forward and held out a hand. “Gabriel,” he said as his smile widened. “I guess I should have started with that. I’m afraid my social skills are still a little rusty. It’s been many millennia since I’ve come to Earth.”

Dylan approached him cautiously, trying to figure out what had happened to her escort. She took his hand and squeezed it lightly, sensing something inside of him that should have sent her soaring for home. But she remembered what Wyatt had said to her all those weeks ago, about how she would meet a man who would be dangerous, but who would have information she needed.

Was this that man?

“When did you fall?”

He glanced up at the sky, then back at her. “I’d say about twenty minutes ago by human time.”

“Why here?”

“I knew you would be here.”

“You’ve come for me.”

“I’ve come to offer you my help. I’m an archangel. I can help you fight the demons.”

“Well, unless you know how to stop them, I think we have all the help we need at the moment.”

Dylan turned away, moving back to the water’s edge. She could feel Raphael’s man nearby and could feel that he was safe. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t alarmed by Gabriel’s sudden appearance.

“He doesn’t realize I’m here. I’ve blocked his perception of me.”

Dylan glanced over her shoulder. “Why would you do that?”

“I wanted to talk to you alone.”

Dylan studied him again, her eyes lingering on his perfect head of hair, his handsome features, and the muscles that bulged out of the arms of the thin t-shirt he was wearing. He was a perfect specimen of masculinity. The girls back at Dytonia were going to be quite pleased to meet him.

“So talk,” she said.

He tilted his head, his smile never wavering. “They were right about you. You are quite stubborn.”

“Who was right about me?”

Gabriel gestured toward the sky. “All the souls in heaven who know you. They gave me all kinds of advice on how to approach you.”

“Did you listen to any of it?”

He laughed and the sound was like a soothing balm on a terrible burn. She didn’t want to like this angel; she didn’t want him here in this place that meant so much to her. But she was drawn to him just the same. There was darkness in his soul, but there was also an amazing light that she couldn’t ignore, a beauty that just seemed to be exactly what she needed at this moment in her life.

Dylan studied him, wondering what he could possibly have to share with her that she could use in this fight against the demons. It had to him that Wyatt was talking about, right? His mysterious warning that a dangerous man was going to come into her life with knowledge she needed? She’d thought about it a lot since that night, but no answers had miraculously appeared. Even angels had to be patient and wait for what they desired.

“Why fall here? Why not fall in Dytonia where all the others are?”

“I wanted to meet the great savior first.”

Dylan shook her head, turning slightly. “If you’re trying to flatter me, that’s the worst way to go about it.”

“You should embrace who you are. God would not have made you the savior if he did not know that you would rise to the challenges he presents to you.”

“God didn’t make me. Scientists in a lab made me.”

“Yes, but God has a hand in all creation.”

“I’ve heard that.” Dylan gestured toward the trees that surrounded this section of the river. “You should probably unblock Raphael’s man now so we can go. I’m expected back in Dytonia.”

Gabriel inclined his head and, almost instantly, Raphael’s man burst through the trees. He had his sword in his hand, raised to shoulder height, prepared to defend Dylan’s honor just a little too late.

Dylan lifted her hand just as the sword was to make contact with Gabriel’s back and the sword disappeared.

“He’s one of us,” she said.

The man was not pleased with the situation, but he stepped back with his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes watchful. He’d been ordered to obey Dylan. She couldn’t have a bunch of gung-ho angels following her around, beating up anyone she came into contact with.

“Let’s go.” Her wings unfurled from her back and spread out, flexing enough to kick up some of the loose soil under feet. “You do know where Dytonia is, don’t you?”

Gabriel didn’t answer. He simply unfurled his own wings—beautiful, silky gold wings like his hair—and burst into the air. Dylan followed and found herself laughing as he rolled around her and took off, challenging her to a race. She followed, catching up and quickly passing him, laughing again at the look of surprise in those bluer than blue eyes. She could get lost in those eyes, if she wasn’t careful. God was a complicated entity, but he certainly knew what beauty was and he’d never held back when it came to his angels.

Dylan felt carefree for the first time in a long while. She chased Gabriel through the sky, not feeling the need to talk or to even include him in her movements. He was just there and that was enough for the moment. Raphael’s man followed, as always, at a discreet distance. When they landed on the street outside of Rachel’s building, they caught the attention of the townspeople who were walking around, tending to their own business in the town square around them. Dylan could hear their thoughts and how they mostly focused on Gabriel’s beauty. It made her smile, something like pride rising in her chest for reasons she wasn’t prepared to analyze.

Raphael was at the door before Dylan could push it open, concern etched into his handsome features.

“Gabriel,” he said with more than surprise in his voice.

“Hello, brother,” Gabriel said, extending a hand to the other archangel.

“Why are you here?”

Gabriel glanced at Dylan, a soft smile again touching his full lips. “I came to meet the savior.”

Surprise was not even an apt description of the emotion this brought to Raphael’s eyes. He covered it quickly, but not before Dylan heard it screaming from his thoughts. He was confused. He’d spoken to Gabriel before he fell from heaven; he knew that Gabriel was outspokenly against the angels assisting the humans. Yet, here he was, insisting that he wanted nothing more than to meet Dylan. It didn’t make sense to Raphael and that set off alarm bells in Dylan’s head.

But she chose to ignore them.

Stiles watched Ellie observe the dark souls trapped in Wilhelm’s jail, her face expressionless. She had insisted on seeing them and said that she could tell them who each was. But she’d been watching them for nearly an hour and had yet to say a word.

“This is a waste of time,” Stiles said.

“Maybe,” Wilhelm agreed.

Stiles leaned his shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest to show his annoyance. But then he lowered his mental walls, anxious to know what was going on in Ellie’s mind. He’d done this quite often over the last few weeks and she never seemed to feel him there. And that alone was odd. She should have.

She was arguing with one of the dark souls.

This is what must be done,
the soul told her.

But I can’t do that. I can’t allow that to happen.

It is our purpose.

Ellie suddenly turned, her gaze falling sharply on Stiles before she focused on Wilhelm.

“They are just Nephilim left behind when the souls were blessed.”

“They were human?” Wilhelm asked.

“Yes. Each one stuck here because of unfinished business.”

“Can you help them cross?” Stiles asked Ellie.

She focused on him again, her eyes narrowing slightly as she did. “I could try. But I’m not sure it would work. They can sense that I was one of them.”

“I think they more than sense it. They know who you are.”

Ellie buried her hands in the front pockets of her pants. “You don’t trust me.”

“Tell me why I should.”

Again she glanced at Wilhelm, suddenly adopting the paranoid demeanor of a trapped animal. She crossed her arms over her chest, and then slid her hands back into her pockets, stepping back and then moving forward when she knocked into the steel bars of the cell doors. Stiles could hear the swirling of her thoughts, her attempts to figure out what she could say that would take the heat off of her for a moment.

“You’re up to something,” Stiles said. “You know more than you’ve told us and you’re planning something with these souls.”

She shook her head as tears began to slip from her eyes. “I’m not.”

“I heard you, Ellie. You forget, now that you’re back in your human form, I can hear your thoughts.”

“I didn’t forget. I just…I was hoping you would understand.”

“Understand what?”

Ellie looked over her shoulder at the dark soul she’d just spent the better part of an hour staring at. “They want me to release them. They feel a pull to the others that is almost painful. They need to be with the others.”

“Why?”

She shook her head, tears still falling down her slender cheeks and down over the front of the t-shirt Wilhelm had found for her.

Stiles pushed away from the wall and turned to the stairs. “If you’re not going to tell us what we need to know, I can’t imagine why we need to keep you here. Perhaps it’s time to send you home.”

“Wait!” she cried as Stiles’ foot hit the first tread of the stairs. He turned, allowing all the impatience he’d felt these last few weeks show on his face. “What?”

“I want to help,” she said. “I’m just confused. I’m not sure what’s real and what isn’t. It’s all been so disorienting.”

“I’m sure it has been,” Wilhelm said, glancing at Stiles with a bit of warning in his eyes.

“We’re running out of time,” Stiles said. “We can’t sit around and wait for you to adjust to being back. We need to know what you know now.”

A struggle was clearly going on inside of Ellie. Stiles could see it in the movements of her body and the expression on her face. One moment, she was consumed with grief. The next, she was almost relaxed, something like amusement dancing in her eyes. It was like watching a bizarre performance by some sort of entertainer, like the troupe who traveled through the Americas, putting on shows in exchange for a few days room and board. There was something more going on here and he was determined to know what it was.

Ellie turned back toward the cells, crossing her arms over her chest again. “They are planning a big attack. In Europe. They’re hoping Dylan will go there, that she will be distracted long enough for them to possess someone close to her. A woman.”

“Rachel?” Stiles asked, his voice steady even as his heart screamed in protest.

“I don’t know. Just that it’s a woman who knows where the guardian’s orb is hidden.”

Stiles didn’t wait to hear more. He burst into his ethereal form and rushed out, returning to Dytonia to warn Rachel.