“Start the fire now,” Lawrence insisted.
Shivering, thirteen-year-old Jett tried to climb out of the icy bath. Hands grasped his shoulders from behind and pushed him back down, chin-deep in the water. Answering from behind the metal gag that clamped around his head, he managed, “I c-can’t.”
Oh, he wanted to. Wanted to light up the entire room, especially his keepers. But the water left his ability useless, as the scientists apparently wanted to prove.
Lawrence and the two men in white coats murmured to each other in low voices. One of them, the balding one with the mustache the size of a rat, shook his head. “Make sure.”
Firm hands pushed Jett’s head beneath the surface.
“Still with me?” Devin’s brow furrowed.
“I fucking hate water.”
“Of course you do,” Devin said. “We all do. But not as much as the archangels hate it.”
Jett coughed, focusing on the here and now. If he told Devin to fuck off and swam to shore, no one would stop him. So, he didn’t. The freedom made all the difference. “Why the archangels?”
“Imagine one of them face down in the water.”
A chill that had nothing to do with the cold lake ran down Jett’s spine. With their wings, it’d be impossible to right themselves. “I’d hope they’d stay away from water at all costs.”
“Yes. They avoid it with as much enthusiasm as they avoid lightning storms. But, a few decades ago, an archangel in Canada’s demon colony tried to rescue a civilian demon caught in a flash flood and ended up in the water herself. The archangel’s Guardian wouldn’t have been able to haul her out of there if he’d been only a mediocre swimmer.”
Jett shut his eyes and nodded.
“Also, we can’t put it past poachers to use water to their advantage. Anyone seeking to harm archangels or demons will utilize water if they have the opportunity. It’s an element you need to master.” Devin bent and retrieved an object from the floor of the boat. The small, round capsule lit up with blue light. He tossed it into the water, and it sank. “Fetch!”
After hours in the lake, Jett sat on the rocks high above the shore, naked to the waist, toweling himself. The sun had risen high, warming his skin, necessitating sunglasses. Devin had disappeared into the archangel house after announcing that Vin was on his way to lead a session.
He stared at his hand, where Lexine had bitten him weeks before. The marks had faded, but like their kiss, he still felt the moist heat of her. Felt her both shudder and hold him tight.
He had to touch her again. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself. The sooner the better, if he wanted any level of control at all.
“Morning, Guardian.” Footsteps on the rocks accompanied the rustle of feathers.
Jett ran the towel over his hair. “Never, ever, go near the water for any reason.”
Raphael laughed. “Have fun this morning?”
“Devin sure knows how to have a good time.”
“Once in the water was enough for me, don’t worry. Years ago, Lark insisted on a water lesson to learn some tricks to help keep myself alive if a real situation arose.”
“Where is Lark?” Jett scanned the trees.
“He’s never far, but he keeps as much distance as he can, as often as he can. As grateful as I am for the Guardians, twenty-four-hour protection can be a difficult thing.”
“I know what it’s like to always have someone watching.” Jett fought the deep urge to cover himself with the towel, the memories crawling over his skin like insects. “I don’t think a single second of my life in the lab wasn’t monitored and recorded.”
Raphael flicked his wings. After a pause, he said, “When you have a break in your training, you should go to the town hall, second floor. You’ll find an office on the far side of the atrium. The guard knows to let you in.”
Jett cocked his head. “Whose office?”
“Dante’s.”
“My father’s?” He wiped his clammy hands on the towel.
“It’s there whenever you’re ready. He founded Sanctuary and personally trained all the Guardians who protected it until his death. He wrote everything down, and as part of your training, you need to read his original words. His journals and other personal effects are there, too.”
Jett chewed the tip of his tongue between his incisors, making his mouth moist enough to speak. “Thank you—”
A feminine shriek split the air and grew louder. A shadow shot across the ground, accompanied by wind. Wren careened overhead. The pseudoterrified scream from the woman in his arms broke up into laughter as they disappeared over the trees.
“Is that safe?” Jett got to his feet, staring in the direction the young couple had disappeared. The worst-case scenario played through his mind. If poachers invaded the forest, both Wren and Ginger could be killed with one well-aimed bullet. So quick. “Where are the twins?”
Raphael stretched his wings, the pure-white feathers blinding in the sunlight. “Devin is upstairs with the twins, and Wren is a strong flier. What good is flight if you only use it to go from point A to point B?”
“If poachers—”
“Lark is in the forest. He has our trust, as do you.”
With that, the archangel beat his wings in furious movement and leaped off the rocks. He skimmed the water before rising into the air and vanishing over the opposite side of the lake.
Jett shook his head, his chest constricting, the tightness suffocating. The archangels would be safest inside, but what were they fighting for, if not the freedom to live, really live? Jett would be the last person to force them into another prison.
Perhaps the hardest part of being their Guardian would be accepting that he couldn’t protect them from everything.
…
Lexine wandered through the winery, a glorified barn on the edge of the apple orchard. Clean and weather-tight, the scent of apples permeated the small building. The heirloom varieties used for winemaking had ripened the week before, and she had occupied her time picking. Crates of the fruit lined the wall, ready to go.
She climbed the stairs to the second level, a single space like the first floor. The wine bottles that Jac reused every year were reposed in boxes.
Hmm. If she relocated the glassware, this would make an elegant studio apartment. The construction on the new residence building was underway, and she wasn’t impatient. This place, however, suited her better than the communal residences. Quiet. Sunshine. Located on a hilltop, the view from one window looked out over the orchard while the other showcased a sweeping panorama of the lake. As she stared, the white wings of one of the archangels streaked beneath the morning clouds.
Thanks to the winemaking needs, the building had plumbing and a small bathroom on the first floor. Not very girl friendly, but she could make it work.
Staring out the window, her fingers idly tracing a knot in the wood, she spotted Jett walking on the path below. What was he doing here? She lifted her fingertips to her lips.
She knew the expectations of a Guardian in training—total focus and almost impossible physical tasks—so she’d kept her distance. As she’d expected, he hadn’t sought her out, either. When she’d glimpsed him now and then, he was either in the lake, high in the trees, or covered in mud and bleeding, Devin nipping at his heels.
Jett stopped at the edge of the lawn and glanced up. He wore sunglasses against the bright morning glare, but with a shiver, she felt his gaze connect with hers. After a moment of stillness, he headed for the entry.
Cursing the lack of a mirror, she smoothed her hair and rushed downstairs.
Jett entered the winery, shutting the door behind himself. Clean and dressed in Guardian black, he removed his sunglasses. “Good morning, Lexine. I was told I’d find you up here.”