Angels of Darkness

“Well, I found it,” I said. “And then I hid myself in Velora until everyone stopped looking for me.”

I could tell by Corban’s expression that he was doing a rough calculation. “But that was—what, three years ago?”

“Four.”

“And all this time you’ve been running? Thinking the angels—or the Manadavvi—were still looking for you?”

“Yes,” I said.

“And that’s why you’re here. At the Gabriel School. Which, as far as I can tell, is at the very edge of civilized existence. You’re still running.”

“I suppose.” I was suddenly so tired I could barely muster the strength to answer.

But Corban was energized. He leaned forward, his face alight. I had the sense he might take my arm again, so I scooted back, out of reach. “Well, you don’t have to hide anymore,” he said. “Reuel’s dead and the angels aren’t hunting for you. You can go where you want. Do what you want. Lead a normal life again.”

Laughing faintly, I pushed myself to my feet. I figured I’d better leave while I still had the strength to walk home. “I don’t know that I ever led a normal life,” I said. “And I’m perfectly happy at the Gabriel School. All I need these days is a place to rest.”

He stood up so quickly he almost knocked his chair over. “Wait. I want to ask you—”

I had headed for the door, but now I pivoted back to face him. “We’re done talking about my life,” I said sharply. “I’ll come back tomorrow, and every day after that, but not if you keep asking me questions. Do you understand? I’ll help you as long as you need me, but if you don’t respect my wishes, I won’t work with you anymore. And if you try to make me come to you anyway, I’ll leave the school. I’m not afraid to run away. I’m not afraid to start over. I’m not afraid of anything.”

I could almost see the words forming on his lips, something like You’re afraid of things in your past that give you pain. But he didn’t say them. His need for my assistance was greater than his desire to pry into my life. “I won’t ask any questions,” he said quietly.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.

If I had had the strength, I would have run from the room.

CHAPTER 5

I had to force myself to go back to the Great House the following day. I had tossed and turned all night, torn between hating myself for revealing so much to Corban and experiencing a fierce jubilation at the knowledge that Reuel Harth was dead. I was also haunted by images of Olive’s torn and twisted body, images of Reuel Harth’s blood seeping into the bedclothes, and other memories that I usually managed to stuff to the very back of my mind.

I closed my eyes against the pictures in my head, turned over on my mattress, and punched my pillow into shape. I vowed never to tell that story again. I was grateful that, when sleep finally arrived, it came unencumbered with dreams.

I yawned through most of the day, but a growing sense of trepidation made me grow more alert as the sun went down. Even if Corban kept his promise, my confession would lie between us like a sucking swamp. One misstep, one incautious word, and either of us could be pulled back in. Our conversations would be awkward, fraught with knowledge, laced with tension.

I shook my head and forced myself to stand straighter. Not that our conversations have been easy so far, I reminded myself. He was an angel and I was a servant girl with a violent past. You’re lucky you’ve been able to manage to exchange any words at all.

My mouth quirked in a bitter smile. I was certainly right about that.

By nightfall, I was headed back up the hill, bringing a freshbaked loaf of bread from the school kitchen to spare Alma that task, at least. She was up and hobbling around the kitchen, looking as cheerful as I’d seen her.

“I’m feeling much better,” she assured me. “I even made it upstairs once, though my ankle hurt for the rest of the day.”

I raised my eyebrows. “That’s very encouraging! Soon you won’t need me here at all!”

She cast me a quick sideways glance while pretending to keep all her attention on the soup she was measuring into two large bowls. “I won’t, but the angel might,” she said. “He was very pleased to see me when I made it to the top of the steps—until he realized I was me and not you. Then he managed to be polite, but I could tell he was disappointed.”

It was clear she thought there was more to our relationship than there was. “I’m no angel-seeker,” I said bluntly. “I’m not trying to seduce him.”

Alma was neither shocked nor offended. “I didn’t say you were” was her mild response. “Though I’m not sure such a thing would be bad for either of you.”

I made a derisive sound. “My life is complicated enough. I don’t need to add the indiscretion of falling in love with an angel.”

Her smile—so rare and so unexpectedly mischievous—caught me by surprise. “Oh, I don’t know. There’s nothing quite like taking an angel lover. Some things are worth the inevitable pain.”

My eyebrows could hardly go any higher. “Someday we’ll have to sit down and talk about your interesting past.”

Still smiling, she waved a hand to speed me to the door. “Someday,” she said. “Right now, you’ve got more important things to do.”

I climbed the stairs and entered Corban’s room with a breezy step, determined to pretend as if there had been no wrenching confidences the day before. Evidently he had made the same decision, for he met me at the door with a brisk but friendly greeting.

“Good, you’re here,” he said, turning immediately toward the central table. “Let’s eat quickly so we can go outside.”

“This will be a good night for flying,” I noted, some of my tension easing at his reasonable tone. I set the tray down and served us both. “The moon’s still close to full, there’s only a light breeze, and it’s a little warmer than it’s been the past few nights.”

“I hope you brought a jacket, even so,” he said, spooning up some soup.

“Yes, thanks so much for your concern.”

“Because I want you to come with me when I fly.”

I suddenly remembered the part of the previous night’s conversation that had led to my emotional confession. I laid down my spoon and said, “I told you, I don’t want to do that.”

“Yes, I know, you hated it when you tried it, but you have to admit that wasn’t a typical incident,” he said. He was very carefully not specifying why I had been in an angel’s arms once before, and I grudgingly gave him credit for that. “Flying is—an indescribable thrill. And so many mortals never get the chance to experience it. Shouldn’t you attempt it at least once, with someone you trust—to wipe out that old memory, if nothing else? And maybe to find yourself enthralled and delighted? Moriah, don’t you want to go flying?”

His voice was so passionate and at the same time so pleading that I had to laugh. The pictures he conjured were sorely tempting, but all I said was, “What makes you think I trust you?”

“Well, I know that I trust you,” he replied, sounding a little hurt. “I’ve had to, these past few nights. I would be distressed to learn you didn’t feel the same about me.”

“Oh, that was very good,” I told him. “You practiced that, didn’t you?”

He grinned. “Not out loud.”

“Corban, I—”

“Will you?” he interrupted. “Please? I have to keep pushing myself, testing myself. Maybe, once I get stronger, I can hire someone to be my guide, but right now I’m not ready to do that. You’re the only one who can help me. And I really want to do this.”