“You’re stubborn.”
“I prefer ‘determined,’ and don’t be a hypocrite. It doesn’t suit you.”
He smiled, the effect so bright it reminded her of sunshine glinting on the lake after the ice finally breaks in the spring. “Okay, Lexine, let’s go for a walk. Just remember it was your idea.”
Chapter Thirteen
Abandoning Sanctuary’s groomed trails just beyond the cemetery, Jett led Lexine through the forest, the elevation steadily climbing. Neither of them said much—their first priority was listening for unwelcome company as they ventured farther out. As he’d observed the colony that year, he noted that Guardians and civilians alike treated the woods with respectful caution, the way a human would walk into a large, silent cathedral that might be empty or might not, and any sound would fill the space. Even children fell silent without being told.
Never before had he observed his own kind. Lawrence had described aggressive, hot-tempered beasts. In reality, most were like Jett: they preferred quiet and peace to disruption of any kind.
“Did my father have trouble getting demons to form a colony?”
“No, why?”
He stepped over a fallen, broken branch, making no sound. “It seems to me being out here, alone, is more natural for us.”
“Devin and Lark haven’t taught you any history?”
“Not yet.”
She ran her fingers over the bark of a thick pine. “Demons have been on earth for thousands of years, mostly in North America because there were far fewer humans here at the time, plenty of uninterrupted forest. We had no trouble with the Native Americans and rarely interacted with the archangels. You’re right, we weren’t as sociable a society then, but we weren’t loners, either. Young adult demons left their parents and searched the woods until they found mates. Couples were then as they are now—bonded for life and inseparable. Adult demons who didn’t find mates eventually died, the loneliness the root of a physical disease that hasn’t been seen since the colonies formed.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.”
“How did they find one another? The forest was a lot bigger then than it is now.”
“An ability that has all but disappeared in generations like mine, but it’s said to remain strong in those with a Guardian bloodline. I bet you had little trouble finding us even though you were on foot in the woods, right?”
He paused, recalling the turmoil of his thoughts during that trip. Free for the first time, but with no place to go. Hatred for Lawrence, concern and loyalty toward Raphael. Despite everything, he’d crossed the state and gone directly to the colony, never once losing his way. “I sensed it, somehow.”
“Exactly, and I’m sure Lark or Devin will explain it better. Anyway, the growing number of human European settlers drove us to work together as a community. The violence aside, it’s been a good thing and everyone agrees.”
“Why not form communities long before that?”
“Change needed the catalyst. Like you said, it’s in our nature to be out here, alone—well, almost alone.” She brushed her fingers over his arm, the fleeting contact a tease that made him reach out. She hooked her arm around his and they kept walking.
Jett breathed easier than he ever had before.
He avoided the easiest route—the rough path which Jac had taken the kids along—and followed a small brook. When the terrain leveled off he turned south, along the mountain instead of up it. After an hour, they passed above the murder scene, hidden beyond the trees, though the faint scent of blood lingered when the breeze blew just right. Lexine’s shoulders stiffened and she gripped his arm tighter.
“Just a little farther,” Jett said. “Have you been up here before?”
“Not since I was little, like Bryce, when they first start teaching us tracking and other forest skills.”
Tension filled her voice. Why had she insisted on coming to this place? What was she expecting to find at his camp? At least there was one thing worth the trip. “Wait till you see the view.”
The murder scene disappeared behind them, and they climbed one last rise to a small, natural clearing—most of the trees forced back by the granite ledge and crisscrossing springs.
“Here we are. There, look.” The gap in the forest framed a view of the colony and the lake below them, and of the sky, where an archangel surfed the vast stretch of blue. “It’s Raphael.”
“How can you tell?”
“They have different flying styles.”
“I’ve never noticed that.”
“It’s subtle. He favors the wing that was broken.”
“I thought it was perfectly healed,” she said, concern in her voice.
“I don’t know if something like that can ever be perfectly healed, mentally if not physically.”
She leaned against him and they watched in silence for a few minutes. “I like watching them fly, even though it makes me a little jealous. Can you imagine it?”
“No, I can’t, but I’m not sure the ability to fly would be worth the consequences.”
“The poachers?” She shook her head. “Horrible, but worth it. Definitely. When I watch them long enough, I can almost feel the force of it on my body. Even though it’s my imagination, it’s exhilarating.”
“Freedom, in any form, is exhilarating.”
Lexine turned away from the gliding archangel and faced him. “True. So you do know what it’s like to fly. You and Raphael both have been airborne since you escaped Thornton.”
“I suppose…”
She laughed. “Yeah, I didn’t figure you for the poetic type.” She walked past him, toward the shelter he’d built for himself at the edge of the clearing.
His home, as Lexine had pointed out. Why hadn’t he thought of it that way?
“You did this without tools or equipment?”
“At first I spent most of my time exploring the land around the colony. When I noticed something that would fit, I brought it back. It wasn’t as much work as it appears.” He’d stacked large rocks to waist-height in the middle of a hemlock grove, connecting four of the old trees that formed a nearly perfect square. To make an A-shaped roof, he’d tied branches together with the sturdy grape vines that grew on the trees near the river, topping it off with hemlock and pine foliage. By winter, he’d added deer skins, tanned with demon fire, to make the shelter water and windproof. “I just needed a place to sleep and wait out storms.”
“May I?” She lifted a hand to the deer-skin door.
“Sure.”
She vanished inside, and he followed her. He’d padded the ground first with pine needles, then with skins: deer near the door, rabbit and fox where he slept.
“Well, I guess I know what you ate.”
“I’ll be happy never to eat wild game again in my life.” Hunting and catching animals had been easy, none of the creatures able to outmaneuver a demon. He considered the food chain perfectly natural, but he’d have gladly traded a few salads to break fewer necks.
She sat on his bed and studied the stone portion of the wall he’d carefully constructed to form a shelf. He’d whittled bowls, forks, and spoons from pine. “You did make yourself at home.”
“During the cold snap that refused to give up, the archangels spent more time inside. Made me crazy, so I had to keep busy.”
“You really worried about them.”
“I, well…” He ground his teeth and sat on the bed next to her. “I had no reason to worry, but I couldn’t stop making it my business. I had to be here, just in case.”
“It’s in your blood.”
“I don’t believe in that kind of thing.”
“Silly.” She pressed her palm to the center of her chest. “Being a Guardian takes a certain kind of heart. Whether you think of yours as entirely your own or as something your father passed on to you, you have it.”