AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Then there was the roaring. It had gotten so it took days of meditation after the battle was over for blessed silence to reign in his mind again. Saliva, vomit and blood. There was no way to get clean from it.
At least in this last battle, his men had gotten free. By the time they realized he was not with them, it had been over.
He drifted. He was not in the clouds. He was in the earth. Deep within the earth. Under water. Under an ocean. Far, far from the skies. But among the pain that was starting to return to him in full, throbbing measure, he remembered something not as unpleasant. The vague sense of it close by gave him an annoying will to return to consciousness. He would have preferred to accept oblivion.
But there'd been a gentle touch, the simple press of a female body against him, her hands guiding him. Her heartbeat fast but her eyes concerned, determined. So determined. He'd never seen such great strength in a face so fragile. Reaching down inside him with those great violet eyes, wanting him to survive, willing to do the unthinkable to get him to safety. Sacrifice. Goodness.
As an angel, he was helpless not to respond to it.
Blinking, Jonah found himself looking at the rocky, multicolored terrain of a cavern ceiling. The warm air told him he'd directed her down deep enough, but not too deep. He had no more desire than the Dark Ones to attract Lucifer's attention. The cavern was one of the far outer honeycombs of his domain. While Jonah couldn't draw healing energy from it without catching Luc's notice, at least it was dry and warm. He'd have to use another energy source. Something close at hand.
He turned his gaze, and there she was.
SHE hadn't wanted to leave him until he woke, for she didn't want him to think he'd been abandoned. Which was a ludicrous thought, considering that even wounded, he probably wielded more power than all the creatures in the ocean combined. But as a quarter hour passed and he hadn't moved, Anna knew she might have to leave him this way regardless.
She was so deep in such thoughts that when he shifted his head, she nearly stroked back ten feet like a startled guppy. She'd been sitting on the ledge, her feet in the water, watching him. She hadn't shifted back to mermaid, not knowing if her legs would be needed.
Until he moved his head, she couldn't tell he was looking at her. Without whites to his eyes, there was no way to detect shifts. Like a shark in some ways, every thought and potential action masked. But the language was there, rich and varied, just not comprehensible to her yet.
She thought about standing, but that seemed disrespectful with him supine like this. So instead, hesitantly, she turned, bringing her legs out of the water, folding them beneath her. Bending from the waist, she touched her forehead to the ground in respect. It felt odd, for she'd never offered her allegiance to anyone. But he was an angel. From the command in his expression, even when at rest, she suspected he was perhaps an angel more important than some others. Those horrible things had certainly been determined to find him.
She tensed as she heard his arm brush against the rock. Reaching out, he fingered a tendril of her hair coiled on the ground in front of her knees. She remained still, though it did odd things to her, feeling that slight pull as his fingertips gauged its texture. Then he turned his palm over, began to wrap it, shortening it, which would by necessity require her to come closer. Oddly, it almost made her smile, because it seemed a child's trick.
But she moved forward. When she dared to raise her gaze, Anna's humor fled. He was in pain. Sweat shone on his body and there was a tremor in the hand that held her tethered. She should have gone to Mina before he woke, had something she could offer to him . . .
"Come closer, little one. I need your help, if you freely offer it."
Well, that was something she never expected to hear from an angel's lips. Bowing her head, she dared to speak, hoping either that his words gave her permission or that the assertion that her tongue would burn to ash was an old wives' tale. "I am yours to command, my lord."
Anyone who'd ever told her about angels had said they were to be obeyed as if they were the Lady themselves. She'd always gone the opposite way in her life, respecting but resisting her great-grandsire's authority, living far outside the boundaries of the insular mermaid community. But she knew she'd do whatever this being required of her. There definitely must be something magical about him. With all the trouble she caused, she could almost hear King Neptune wryly asking if he could bottle it.
The angel shook his head, even as he continued to tug her forward. "I won't compel you to do this against your will, little one. I need energy to heal my wing, to reattach it, and it is more energy than I have."
"I'm not so little," she assured him. "I can help."
A smile twitched at his mouth. Oh, dear Lady, what a smile did to his face, even if it didn't seem to reach those dark eyes. Grasping her hand, he drew her attention down. When he placed his palm against hers, he straightened their fingers and showed her the breadth of his palm, the lengths of his digits, dwarfing her own.
"Your heart has great courage, but your body is quite small. Another of the Lady's contradictions. What's your name?"
"Anna." She tried not to stare at the way their hands looked, palm to palm like that. "My name is Anna. My lord."
"Jonah," he responded. When he tensed, his mouth tightening, she curved her fingers into his, holding his hand through the spasm.
"Please, tell me how I can help. I can't bear to see you in pain."
His head tilted, and she sensed her words had startled him.
"Do you belong to another?"
The question hurt, though not as much as the answer. "No," she said.
"Then perhaps you can help. It is simple, old magic, little one. Did you like it when I kissed you?"
One of Neptune's guards had taken her hand once, a formality to guide her at some official function. It had been years ago, before she'd left the palace for good. That touch, one of the few she'd had in her life, had lingered in her young mind, so powerfully that she'd developed a short crush on the guard, slinking around and watching him. Nearly eight years ago, and she remembered it still, that brush of flesh against flesh.
Yes. Oh, heavens, yes. A flush rose in her cheeks as she realized he might be able to read her thoughts, since he'd spoken to her inside her mind easily enough. "I was somewhat hoping you'd forgotten about that, my lord. I hope I didn't offend you."
"I believe I should ask that, seeing that it was me who kissed you." That light smile again, but his eyes were intent upon her face. "Female energy is strong, particularly when defending what they love, or when they are aroused. You are willing to defend me; that much is obvious, as you did not heed my wisdom and leave me. I cannot wield much magic here without attracting unpleasant attention, unless I use one of the most elemental of earth magics. Joining Magic."
"Joining . . . Oh." She looked down quickly to cover the sudden widening of her eyes. Their interlaced hands suddenly seemed to have far too similar a symbolism, his long fingers resting inside the tender creases of hers. "I . . . If that will help, of course, my lord." She bit down on her tongue, willing herself not to babble.
Shifting his grip so he was holding her shoulders, he drew her down to him. His hands were confident, holding her easily as he brought her close enough to his mouth that she felt dizzy. It made her chest hurt, so full of her reaction her skin felt stretched, sensitive. She wanted him to touch every part of it. Yet she was nervous, and couldn't help the instinct to pull back. He let her, his grip sliding to her hands, and she swallowed.
"Please forgive me, my lord," she stammered hastily. He was hurting. What was wrong with her? Her body was an easy thing to give, something that meant nothing to anyone but her. "I can do this. I am not refusing you--"
"Sshh . . ." He shook his head, squeezed her hands. Then he let go so one could lift toward her face. Something altered in his expression as he eased his hand onto her cheek, his fingertips seeking beneath her hair. His thumb passed over her cheek. Everything in her heated under his touch, liquefied. Her lips parted despite herself, making her uncertain of what her body was doing in uncontrolled reaction to that amazing touch.
"We're going to make something very clear here, little one. Anna. I do not command this of you. I don't wish you to fear me. Others fear me. Many others. And they should." A dangerous glint to his eyes, here, then gone before she could retreat, startled. But then something wistful went through his expression. "However, I think if this world was populated by more creatures like you, I would find myself with much time on my hands."
Anna put her hand tentatively on top of his, feeling the sensitive channels between his fingers, an intimate discovery, a vulnerability amid such obvious power. Faith, he was an odd being. Or perhaps she was the odd one. "I was told if you spoke to an angel before being given leave, your tongue would disintegrate."
His brow lifted. "Likely a rumor spread by one of my brethren who didn't want to encourage excessive chatter."
