“I know,” Wren said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“It’s dark. It’s a rural area. It’s a manageable risk.”
“All right,” Wren said. “I’ll go. I’m faster.”
“Absolutely not. You’ll stay here with your mate and your children.”
“Father—”
Raphael flicked his wings. “I can fly damned fast when I need to.”
“That’s not what I’m really worried about.”
“This is dangerous.” Raphael nodded. “But we must help, and I’ll be the one go.”
Wren’s feathers stood on end, but he nodded. “Be damned careful.”
“Thank you,” Lexine said.
Raphael headed for the flight deck.
“What about Lark?” Wren brushed his wing against Raphael’s.
“No time to argue something he’ll never agree to. I’ll apologize to him later.”
Lexine shivered and clasped her shaking hands together. “I can’t just wait. I’m going to get a car and—”
Raphael turned and cocked his head. “You’re coming with me.”
“Here.” Ginger held out a jacket. “This will fit you. You’ll need it.”
“You’re serious?”
Raphael returned and took her arm. “I can only carry so much weight. I won’t be able to fly Jett back. He’ll be unconscious from being healed. You’ll need to drive him, and it’s better if we don’t have to wait for you to get there by car. I won’t drop you. I promise.”
“I’m not worried about that.” How many times had she wished for a chance to be carried by one of the archangels? She could have asked, but she didn’t, it seemed too personal a thing when Wren carried Ginger. Now she had the chance, but not for enjoyment—to save the life of the male she loved. “Yes, I’ll come.”
“Good luck.” Ginger hugged her.
Raphael led her outside as she pulled on the jacket and secured the hood over her head.
Lexine clung to Raphael as he spread his wings, massive and stark white under the exterior lights. Her stomach flipped and crawled up her throat as he dove off, dropping ever so slightly at first, then rising. Fast. Faster. The beat of his wings filled her ears, the noise as loud as the air roaring over them.
Darkness surrounded them. How high were they? Specks of light dotted the ground, but blackness dominated the rural, nighttime landscape. She shook so hard her teeth rattled, nothing to do with the cold. She shouted over the noise. “Raphael, how can you tell where we’re going?”
“I can sense what direction I’m headed in, and how high I am. Other than that, I’m blind in the dark.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get us there. I saw the house’s location on the computer. Easy to find. You’ll see.”
She closed her eyes, forcing out of her mind the fact that they careened high over the earth in the middle of the night and focused on Jett. His honey-and-tea scent. His dark crimson eyes. The sexy way his voice changed when there was no one else to overhear them.
“We’re nearly over Morgan,” Raphael said after a short while. “Those lights must be it. See the moon reflected below? That’s Lake Seymour.”
“Already?”
“We’re going that fast.”
She didn’t doubt it. The force of the air hurt her skin even through the ankle-length jacket.
“I’m bringing us lower,” he said. “The house is on the northern end of the lake, on the shore.”
The lurch of the sudden descent nearly made Lexine heave.
Raphael banked. “I see lights. That’s the place, where the shore juts out into the lake.”
The wind prevented her from looking over her shoulder, but a gut feeling told her Jett was near. “Yes!”
Raphael reversed the pattern of his wing beats, slowing them as a gravel driveway rose up to meet them. He landed and set her on her feet. Trees shielded them on either side, the lake spread out behind the house, a back road with no traffic crossed in front. No visible neighbors. Thank goodness for small towns.
Lights shone from every window of the farmhouse. Nothing moved. No sound.
Struck with dread, she ran toward the door, Raphael on her heels.
She ignited fire on her skin, ready to block Raphael from any human who posed a threat, and threw open the door. The scent of blood hit her hard.
“Jett!” She froze, facing the kitchen. That horrible floor, a pool of blood. A human missing part of his head from an apparent gunshot wound slumped against the far wall. A little boy knelt by Jett, stanching a leg wound.
Jett, his face so, so pale, glanced up, astonishment and disbelief on his face. “Lex?”
She dropped to her knees as the boy scurried away. Jett’s arms wrapped around her body.
“Lex.”
“You’re going to be all right.”
Déjà vu overtook her as the moment from the dream played out. Jett’s hands slipped from her shoulders and his eyes closed.
“Jett?”
A wing brushed her arm. Raphael knelt in the blood, the liquid staining his flight feathers. He grasped Jett by the shoulder with one hand and covered the bleeding wound on Jett’s leg with his other hand.
Lexine squeezed her eyes shut.
“He’s going to be fine, Lex.”
At the words, she slumped and cried into Jett’s chest.
…
Raphael carried Jett, unconscious from the healing, out to the SUV. When Lexine had calmed, she got in the driver’s seat and headed out.
Instead of taking flight, Raphael went back into the house. He ignored the body in the kitchen—Lawrence deserved no mercy or even a second thought from him—and squeezed down the narrow hall, his wings tight to his body.
Drew sobbed at the side of an unconscious woman on the bed. Raw skin on her wrists and ankles indicated she’d been bound recently.
Another body lay on the floor, dressed in a pastor’s uniform.
He kept his questions to himself. No need to make Drew repeat the gruesome events. Jett would explain, later.
“Andrew, is this your mother?”
Drew nodded, tears dripping off his chin.
“She’s going to be all right. She’s fainted.” Raphael leaned over the frail human woman. His healing talent prickled his skin. “Interesting.”
“What?”
Raphael pressed his palm to the woman’s forehead and released his healing talent. Color returned to her cheeks and her breathing deepened.
Drew’s eyes brightened. “Did you just heal her?”
Raphael shook his head. “I cannot cure her cancer. But yes, I healed some of the damage her body of sustained from her disease and her treatments.” Raphael touched her again, reading her body. “I cannot prevent her death, but I promise you, I have set her disease progression back a few years. When she wakes later on, she’ll feel much better.”
Drew began to cry again, the tears falling around a wide smile. Raphael stroked the child’s hair.
“Be good to your mother, and use the time you have well.”
“Yes, sir.” Drew wiped at his eyes.
“I have to go.” He noted the phone on the nightstand. “Call 911 and stay out of the kitchen. In fact, stay on this side of the bed. Don’t look at the body.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’ll be okay. I wish you well, Andrew.”
Raphael left the house and perched in the tree, waiting, making sure help arrived for Andrew and his mother. A couple minutes passed. Sirens wailed. Police cruisers and an ambulance arrived.
Drew and his mother would be okay, despite this wretched night. Drew would grow up strong. He had that indomitable spirit. Sneaking into the colony to get help for his mother was just the beginning of a life that would make a real difference in the world.
Raphael spread his wings and flew into the sea of stars overhead, eager to get home.