“She was an exception.”
“Because?”
“Reasons.”
Rumors said it was because Lord Raphael disagreed with the mating of a mortal and immortal, for one such as the commander in particular. I changed the subject. “Why not kill the angels right away?”
“Reasons.”
Reasons sucked. I pushed on. “Where are we?”
“In the Forgotten Passage.”
“That sounds like a fun place.”
He smiled. “You must be tired.”
“I’m beat, although I’ve gotta admit, not as beat as I should be.” I eyed his profile. “Are you keeping me agile and healthy?”
“Not at the moment.”
I got the impression he wasn’t in the mood to chat. I shrugged it off, used to not knowing much of anything. Youngest in the family of seven siblings, I was the last to hear the house’s gossip or go out with my older sisters. My brothers didn’t take much interest in keeping me in the loop. Besides, all of them were stationed at the Veil, a prison for the evil of our realm. I rarely saw them. And that was okay, because my mom was around and there for me when I needed her. A constant in my life.
Then it hit me. I wouldn’t see my mother again. As the reality slapped me, I paused. I couldn’t go back for fear the commander would find out about my sneaking food to the prisoner. He would execute me. The two Courts at war meant I wouldn’t see my mother at all. Maybe not ever. The commander and Lord Raphael had forever to fight, while Mom and I had only a few decades to live.
“Nevaeh,” the lord barked. “Keep moving.”
I wiped tears from my face and squared my shoulders, then kept moving.
Night fell over the Court of Sunder, and Lord Raphael and I walked through the narrow sandy passage between two low-rising mountains. The temperatures dropped, and thunder in the sky warned of rain. The good part was that Lord Raphael seemed to know where we were headed, and judging by the widening of the passage and few abandoned shoes we passed, we’d find shelter soon.
And we did. As the Forgotten Passage grew wider, the trees appeared, and even a house or two. The path led into what looked like a small settlement in a valley right before a massive mountain covered in trees. I stopped and admired the green foliage. Gray skies and white snow dominated the Court of Command, making it simple and cold, efficient and unyielding. Kind of like the commander. The Court of Sunder, with its green mountains, small red-roofed homes, and wildflowers growing in random places, appeared more…complicated.
“Never been to the Court of Sunder?” Lord Raphael asked.
“First time.”
“I hope it won’t disappoint.”
“Me too.”
He paused and turned, tilting his head.
“I meant no offense,” I said. “It’s beautiful.”
“You haven’t seen it yet.”
I looked up at him. He didn’t back off, not that I expected him to. “I’ve seen enough.” Namely, the Court’s finest ass.
His violet eyes brightened. “Your body is buzzing with some sort of…” He frowned. “Are you flirting with me?”
Heat crawled up my face, and Lord Raphael pressed a palm to my cheek. His hand felt cool, which meant my cheek was burning. “No,” I lied. I was nothing more than a mortal soldier in a Court he warred with. He could use me, break me, do whatever he wanted with me. The fact he hadn’t was puzzling. Perhaps he intended to bargain with my life. I didn’t know, because all he’d say was “reasons.”
He stepped closer, and his chest pressed my breasts. Heat spread all over my body, not only to my face. My nipples perked, my heart beat in my ears, my chest went rapidly up and down. He could feel all this, and that made me flush even more.
“Flirting with danger gets you excited, I see.”
“I’m fond of adventure,” I whispered, afraid to disturb the moment. My gaze dropped to his plush mouth.
“I’m fond of you.”
Oh my God. I snapped my eyes up, blinked a few times, struggling with what to say. What could I say to that? “Um…”
He kissed my forehead and spun around. Ah, fond of me in a way the commander was fond of me. Fatherly. Orderly. Angelly. Is that a word? Good thing I hadn’t said anything more incriminating.
We reached a small settlement, where a saddled horse grazed near a three-story dwelling made of stacked stone. Instead of going inside, Lord Raphael walked to the horse and patted the animal. The angel grabbed an old dark brown cape thrown over the horse’s back and reached into the sack attached to the saddle. He pulled out a black thigh-length wool coat and slung it over my shoulders, then shrugged on the cape. Closing his eyes, he wiggled his fingers. When he opened his eyes again, I stepped back. They’d lost their violet coloring and now appeared to be between blue and gray, a nondescript, ordinary color. Then he hunched over and mussed his hair, letting it fall over most of his face.
“How do I look?” he asked.
“Mortal.”
“Excellent. Shall we?” He extended a hand in the direction of the place where the loud chatter of many male voices disrupted the creepy run-down village.
We entered the logging house. Inside, I expected to see a command post and uniformed mortals from his Court. Instead, a woman with breasts large enough to topple her over greeted us. She smiled, showing one gold tooth. “Welcome. Runaways?” she asked, but didn’t wait for the answer. “Marriage licenses can be purchased before the consummation of a marriage in one of my fine rooms. We only accept coins.”
Coins? What was that? “This is my sister,” Lord Raphael said.
“Even better,” she said with a wink.
She wiggled between us and took each of our arms, then led us through the bar where civilians drank and appeared to be wagering on the outcomes of things only they understood. A man reached for a few round pieces of metal piled on the table in front of him and said, “Raise you five coins.” The word gambling came to mind and evoked an image of a man from my dreams sitting at the table with me in a place so loud, I could barely hear my own thoughts. Before us were plastic coins and cards.
My palms started sweating, and I fisted my hands, wished the image away by focusing on where I stepped. Before we reached the stairs, the hostess let go of us and lifted her skirts high enough that I had no doubt she’d invited Lord Raphael to look. I glanced at him to see if he watched and found him watching me instead, a smirk on his face. Even with a beard and no violet eyes, hunched, dirty, and partly unrecognizable, he was still beautiful. Definitely better looking than the commander. The commander was pretty and youthful—at first glance, of course. Raphael was sexy, malely. That is definitely not a word.
The woman showed us into a room at the end of the hallway. Spiderwebs hovered in the corners, and dust thrived on the small desk against the window. I approached the single bed that would fit only one Lord Raphael or two average-sized mortals. “It’s nice,” I said and sat on the mattress. Under me, the springs announced their age. Three hundred years and counting.
The woman smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
She spun on her platforms I would surely break my leg off on and swayed her hips down the hall. “This way, mister.”