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TWENTY-THREE
She wasn't Carline. If some benevolent angel hadn't been watching over him last night, he might have ravished the wrong woman.
Not that he would have minded, for she was every bit as beautiful as Carline, and she didn't seem to mind that he was a demon. Which made her an even greater temptation. One he needed to avoid.
Because if he truly was back on earth to be Alethia's protector, then someone had given him a second chance. A chance to redeem himself, so that maybe he wouldn't be sent back to hell, and he'd be allowed to go elsewhere instead. To where he might be reunited with Carline.
Which, of course, meant he had to be on his best behaviour in every way. To be the best, most dedicated protector Alethia could possibly have. The sort of protector he'd wanted to be for Carline, if she'd let him.
"Could you pass me my laptop, please? It's in that bag." Alethea pointed.
Stan could see the bag, but he had no idea what a laptop might be, so he scooped up the bag and set it on the table before her.
"That works." She reached into her bag and pulled out what Stan took to be some sort of folio. Sure enough, when she opened it, the top part appeared to be a highly polished slate, while the part that still rested on the table resembled a printing press with all the letters laid out on it. Then Alethia swiped her fingers across the slate and...
"How did you do that?" Stan asked, peering at the picture that had appeared on the slate.
"That? Oh, that's one of the mountain ranges up north, near one of the mine sites. One of the guys at work is a drone pilot and in between surveying the site from the air, he took a bunch of aerial shots, too. This one's my favourite because the colour of the rocks contrasts so strongly with the ocean in the background. Of course, the water's only there on the really high tides, because a few hours later, it looked like this." She tapped the slate and the picture changed, with white sand where the teal waters had been.
"But how do you make such pictures appear? It's like looking through a window at this place from a great height. Like looking through the eyes of a bird. Is this witchcraft?"
Alethia laughed. "No witchcraft, just modern technology. Um, you're looking at a picture of the scene, captured by a flying device, which then sends the information through to a laptop like mine. So many things I imagine you just didn't have in 1834, and I'm probably the worst person ever to try to explain how they work to you. I mean, I'm an archaeologist. My job is to dig up and explain objects from the past to present-day people. I never expected I'd have to explain present-day objects to someone from the past. What I was hoping to do is see if there are any online records of your Carline. Carline Steel, right?"
Stan nodded.
The picture on the slate vanished, to be replaced by a lot of words. Alethia tapped her fingers on the letters beneath the slate, and Carline's name appeared on the slate. A tiny arrow moved across the screen to touch the word SEARCH before everything vanished, only to be replaced by a new selection of words.
Alethia peered at the slate, muttering to herself as she read.
"Right, it says here she arrived with her brother William Steel in 1829, then married Sean Bell in 1834. She died in...1887. Sorry, Stan."
Carline had died an old woman, after a long and likely happy life, with someone else, while he'd...he'd...
Alethia leaned over and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. "I'm so sorry, Stan."
He had to force himself to unclench his fists before he could hug her back. If he closed his eyes, or merely fixed them on the silvery-blonde braid that hung down her back, he could almost believe she was Carline, and the soft breasts crushed against his chest were...
No. This was Alethia, not Carline, and he was her protector, not her ravisher. He had to keep his desires in check, or he would never achieve redemption, and never see Carline again.
He pulled back, out of her embrace. It was better this way.
