Between one blink and the next, Jett crashed back into himself and leaped to his feet. His heart hammered in his chest. Lawrence. Thornton. Bryce’s kidnapping. The attack on the colony and the archangels. Anger. Bitterness. Regret. Fear.
“What the hell just happened to me?”
Lark got to his feet. “She took your emotional pain away.”
“She what?”
Minnie cleaned her face with a tissue and took a deep breath. “I can sense all the hurt you carry, and I can absorb it into myself. For a few minutes, anyway. What happened to you? How did you even survive whatever it was you’ve been through?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Rare demons have psychic talents like the archangels have, but every demon who has ever fallen to earth has been an empath,” Lark said. “Like our ability to produce demon fire, the empathic skills require no energy, unlike typical psychic talents.”
“Negative and painful emotions have a much stronger signal than anything else,” Minnie added.
“Mind readers?” Jett eyed the female. “You took my memories away?”
“No,” Minnie said. “I can only sense and manipulate the emotional pain associated with the memories. Without the lingering pain to tie you to them, they slipped into the back of your mind.”
Jett scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Okay. Damn. You shouldn’t do that. You were crying.”
She smiled. “I took for two minutes what you’re no doubt holding like a torch day in and day out. I can’t stand to see anyone in such pain. I want to ease others when I can.”
“What is the point of this?” He got in Lark’s face.
“I needed you to experience that so you’d know exactly what your heritage is. Your parents fell to earth hundreds of years ago. Unlike the ability to produce demon fire, the empathic ability is never passed on full strength to the earthborn. However, some children inherit stronger skills than others. Those with the most pronounced empathic traits usually become Guardians. Like you and me.”
“I have no such talent.”
“No, you can’t manipulate emotions the way Minnie can, the way your parents could. But, to use your words, you’re ‘damned sentimental.’ You have a strong empathic trait that makes you much more than a deadly bodyguard. Though you may not be consciously aware of it, you’re responding to the archangels’ emotional state and trying to ease them, like Minnie just did for you. You’ve been doing that from the moment Thornton tasked you to monitor Raphael in his prison.”
“I don’t know… Any decent person would have…”
“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t want to claw your own skin off in frustration when Ginger went into labor.”
“I had no way to know she’d gone into labor.”
“But you did know.”
“Yes.”
“Did the delivery go smoothly?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”
“You do know. Trust your instincts. What do you think happened that night?”
Jett ground his teeth. “Something went wrong around sundown. My pulse started pounding. I was sweating and I couldn’t sit still.”
“A physical reaction? You may be even stronger than I thought. What else?”
Jett focused on the memory, on the peculiar thoughts that had entered his head. “Panic. Fear.” He’d blamed the episode on a dinner of bad meat. “Wren.”
“Correct.” Lark arched an eyebrow. “Phoenix wasn’t breathing. Wren’s healing talent didn’t help because her condition wasn’t caused by an injury. Thankfully, a couple good smacks between the wings did the trick. How did you know it was Wren, specifically?”
“I don’t—”
“Trust your instincts. Tell me. You’re not imagining things.”
“Fine. I sense that Wren and Raphael deal with emotions very differently. Raphael keeps everything under heavy layers of false calm. With Wren, everything comes to the surface. During the birth, I think Raphael wasn’t with them. He was worried, expectant. He must have been waiting for news at a different location.”
“Right again.”
“Okay…so if I’m such a strong empath, why don’t I respond to everyone in the colony? Even Lexine at the funeral didn’t affect me as much.”
“You’ll learn to use your skill more effectively in time. You’ve been watching over Raphael for years. A bond develops between a Guardian and his charges. You’re more in tune, so to speak, with Raphael and, as his blood relative, with Wren. If you stay with Lexine, a bond with her will grow in time.”
“Like with Caza,” Minnie whispered.
The Guardian stiffened. “Indeed. Thank you for your help, Minnie. Jett, let’s go.”
…
Lexine made her way along Sanctuary’s main path, the negligee she’d found at the market wrapped discreetly in a sheet of tissue paper. Pleased with the wicked scrap of lace, she headed for her new apartment. After she and Jett had parted, she’d used the night hours to move her things. Her parents and some of the demons who worked the orchard had helped lug the stored bottles to the first floor and carry the bedroom furniture up the stairs. She didn’t have much, so the move hadn’t taken long.
Her new place gave her a sense of forward motion and purpose that she’d been lacking while under her parents’ roof. Tomorrow, she’d start the first batch of wine.
She rubbed the tissue paper between her fingers. When would she see Jett again? A few days? A few weeks? Would he like how she looked in the dainty lace? Did she even dare wear it for him? She’d never been sexually shy, but Jett was working his way under her skin in a way no one had before. Sitting in the home he’d made for himself, the first home he’d had since his childhood kidnapping, she’d known he was showing her something he’d share with no one else, and the intimacy left a lasting warmth around her heart.
She didn’t welcome the sensation. The closer she got to him, the more it would hurt later. Yet, she’d taken the negligee and couldn’t wait to try it on.
Foolish girl.
“Lex.”
She stopped walking at the sound of Jett’s voice and turned. He stood a few yards away, with Lark, outside of Cinnamon’s residence. Lark said something to Jett that she couldn’t hear, and he headed off on the path that led to the archangel house. Jett approached her.
“Hi.” The tissue paper crinkled under her tightening grip.
He didn’t speak for a moment, his head tilted to the side as he looked her over. Strain showed in the ridged set of his shoulders. “Hi.”
“How’d it go tonight?”
He shook his head and shot a narrowed-eyed stare toward Minnie’s place.
“Now you know how demons used to find mates in the forest, I take it.”
“Yes.” He ran his fingers along her jaw. “I’d just figured I was some sort of ridiculous sap. I did my best to keep it hidden.”
She laughed, more from warmth than amusement. “Empathic traits are a strength, not a weakness. If anything, to be honest, it scares me.”
“Why?”
“If we spend enough time together, you’ll be able to read every emotion I have. I won’t be able to hide anything from you.”
“And what would you hide from me, Lexine?”
That I want you even though I know I can’t keep you.
He let her off the hook. “I’m off training until noon today, and there’s something I need to do. I’d love some company, if you’d be willing to join me.”
“Of course.” She couldn’t suppress a wide smile. “I just need to stop by my apartment first.”
“Sure.” He offered his elbow.
She threaded her arm through his with a shiver. The solid feel of him—compounded by the Guardian black and the distinct feel of a concealed blade above his wrist—invited her to melt into his touch. And she happily did so.