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When the wing brushed the center of her back, at first she paid it no mind, but then she realized it wasn't the creature's wing. It was the angel's hand, his arm coming inside the circle of the wing to take a sure clasp around her, bringing her close against a body that was firm, warm. Alive.
It's all right. Be still and let me think, little one.
The relief she felt, not to be alone in this empty pit, almost made her sag against him before she remembered she was holding him up. Even though the voice was wholly inside her head, it reassured, not only because of the pitched velvet of it, but because of the command. It was a thought with no fear in it. No uncertainty. And an additional quality that unexpectedly distracted her from their immediate problem.
His hand moved along her back, then down to the curve of her hip, which was layered in tight scales that felt every movement of his touch. Her sensitive side fins feathered against his fingers.
A mermaid. A young mermaid, come to my aid. His hand went up, tangled in her loose hair. A maid in truth.
So he knew her kind, enough to know that the unmated girls wore their hair down. Then he found his way around to her mouth, and that thought skittered off somewhere, forgotten.
Despite the cold and fear, nerve endings activated like the sea fans agitated by the stimulation of an irresistible current. She eagerly embraced it, because it made the terror retreat enough so she could think again.
"They're close," she managed. "If they see your light . . ." She spoke in the way of mermaids, a combination of sounds that vibrated through the water, because she wasn't sure if he could hear her thoughts. She also didn't know if he knew her language, but she needn't have worried. He didn't seem to have any problem understanding her.
She was able to feel his head nod, once. Sensed him probing their surroundings in some way. Despite that and the firm command in his mind-voice, she wondered if he would remain cognizant. While she didn't want to hear it, pain and effort were there, in a strained note underneath his thoughts. His next words confirmed it, bringing back her fear.
Another mile down, there will be an outcropping, shaped like a dragon's head. Do you know what a dragon is?
She nodded.
Good. Use it as your marker. Its mouth leads to a series of caverns. There should be light there. And warmth. But it is a long way. Far, far down into its belly. Too far.
She felt his attention on her, though she couldn't see the features of his face.
You know . . . there are no female angels.
She wasn't sure what he meant by that. "Save your strength, my lord. We will get you to safety."
You are beautiful and kind, little one. But it is best to leave me. Let me die and save yourself. There are many angels, and only one of you.
He couldn't know how true those last words were. Could he?
When she turned her head, her temple brushed his face, his jaw. At that moment, his other hand raised, and a soft blue light emitted from his palm, giving her a brief flash of dim light that almost made her sob in relief. His eyes had opened, the remarkable sweep of thick lashes now revealing his dark eyes. All dark. He had no whites, so the way he gazed at her was peculiar, animallike. She couldn't tell his thoughts from them, or if he was having any thoughts at all.
She wanted to push away the thought that she would be descending even farther into the darkness and freezing cold, and that he might be delirious. She sensed no fear in him, though he must know better than she what followed them.
I am quite conscious and rational . . . but I see you need proof.
His head descended and his lips, his mouth, were on hers. A turn of events that completely immobilized her. It wasn't kissing, not exactly. It was as if he was tasting her, for his tongue traced hers, his lips coaxing hers apart as she'd first imagined.
Had she been cold? It seemed fire now swept her. She'd been holding him in the role of protector, but now she was pressed against him, one of his arms tightly around her body, making it clear who was the far stronger of the two of them. The one most capable of taking charge, keeping fears at bay.
She soared through those clouds of distracting thoughts and into a blue sky of something else. This was wanting and feeling and needing . . . ecstasy and sorrow together in that odd way, balancing release with never-ending yearning, leaving one in a strange confusion of joy. Her fingers crept up, wondrously touching the place where their lips met. His curved, and then his teeth nipped at her, making her start. Astonishingly, she almost laughed.
A convulsion went through him, disrupting the moment, making her heart leap into her throat. "My lord--"
Consciousness deserted him once more, his lips drifting along her jaw. Anna had never felt so awake in her life.
Three
EVEN as she wondered if there'd been a deliberate magic in that kiss, given to bolster her courage, she chose to believe his words, because to do otherwise was to lose her mind. Still, she felt a wave of relief when she found by touch the outcropping he'd described, though she ripped her palm open again on the sharp rock edges of the "dragon's" fangs. She entered its mouth into a blind nothingness. Keeping her arms around her angel's body as if she were moving a broad barrel, she swam onward anyway, glad the broken wing had curved around her shoulders and hip so she didn't have to worry about holding on to it. It was still emitting a separate warmth and reassurance, but as the fissure narrowed until she could put an arm out and feel the rock on either side, things became somewhat cumbersome, negotiating the direction with one severed wing and one attached one, the large male unable to aid her as she tried to keep him from getting knocked against the walls.
She almost screamed her frustration when the tunnel turned downward again. At first it was a gradual slope, but then it became harrowingly steep, until they were descending as if down a hollow tube going to the center of the earth. The water got cold again. Colder. At one point, she was barely moving, her limbs so weighed down with him and the freezing temperature. Her fingers and tail scrabbled against the sides, helping to push him downward. Did he realize that if it got too cold, she could die? They would remain here, a wall of bone and decaying flesh warning anyone else foolish enough to do something like this. Goddess, what a horrid thought.
He was wounded, gravely so. How could she be sure of him?
I am quite conscious and rational . . . but I see you need proof.
The fiery warmth in her belly, kindled by that kiss, reignited just in memory, spurring her onward.
The Abyss was mysterious, uncharted. So were angels. Certainly they'd used the honeycomb of caverns, right? After all, while it was filled with unknown dangers to the rest of them, what in the sea could hurt an angel?
Of course, the truth of that had nearly caught them. She prayed they'd successfully thrown his enemies off their trail, for contemplating a confrontation with them down here was just more than she could handle right now. When his body tried to slide out of her arms once again, she braced herself against the wall, holding him. She was sure her blood was staining his perfect wings. When tears pricked her eyes, Anna closed them, trying to focus.
Far, far down into its belly. Too far.
Whenever she'd had to face the unthinkable, she'd told herself if there was no way to retreat, then she had to make the unthinkable possible. This was one of those times. She couldn't go back. She could do this. She would do this. There was no going back.
