A Gift of Wings (36 page)

“Turn around,” he said.

She shifted so she was sitting with her back to him.

“They will each put a hand here,” he said, placing his palms on her back, one on each side of her spine, near the base of her shoulder blades. He slid his palms a hand-length lower on her back and positioned them slightly wider apart. “And here.” Again, lower, the base of his palms now at the bottom of her ribs, and his hands even farther apart. “And here.”

“Like the wings,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he replied. “They mark the positioning of the wings.”

“And they will—burn their sigils into my back.”

Lucky’s words were more statement than question. Still, he answered her, “Yes.”

He felt her shiver beneath his hands. Then she turned back around to face him.

“It sounds painful.”

He nodded. “I’ve never experienced it first-hand, but watching Malachi’s Making…. It looked unbearable.”

As soon as the words were spoken, he wished he could take them back. She didn’t need to hear that. “I’m sorry,” he added quickly. “I shouldn’t have….”

“No,” she said, laying her hand on his arm, “I need to know—so I have some idea of what to expect.”

He lifted her hand from his arm, planted a lingering kiss on her palm, and then closed her fingers around it. “I wish I could make this different for you, take it away from you, go through it for you—anything, rather than see you endure it yourself.”

“I know,” she said, “but you can’t.”

Kneeling, she leaned forward and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He pulled her close, his hands slipping beneath the t-shirt to slide over the smooth skin of her back, skin that would be marked with excruciating burns in a matter of days. Stifling a groan, he met her kiss with increased urgency.

***

Later, as she lay curled next to Aidan, his body spooned around hers, Lucky wondered if sleep would even be possible. She had expected him to take their embrace somewhere beyond kisses and touches, but he hadn’t. He seemed content to simply hold her close while they slept. Although she was a little disappointed, she was also touched by his tender consideration. She knew he was trying to protect her in the only way he could.

She stroked his arm where it rested around her waist and raised his hand so she could brush her lips across his knuckles. In response, he caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers before repositioning his arm around her. Nudging her hair aside with his nose, he placed a soft kiss on her jaw, just beneath her ear. When he whispered, “Go to sleep,” she yawned. Snuggling back against him, she closed her eyes. It was only moments before she slept.

CHAPTER 23

Aidan wasn’t sure if it was the ringing of his cell phone or Zeke’s mental push that woke him up. He silently cursed the Cherub as he carefully disentangled his limbs from Lucky’s, hoping to give her a few more minutes of sleep. Swinging his legs onto the floor, he retrieved the cell phone from his bedside table. By the time he accepted the call, he was halfway to the living room.

“By all that’s holy, Zeke, you’re worse than a freakin’ alarm clock. What time is it anyway?”

Zeke chuckled. “Thank you, Aidan. I had not expected to laugh today. It is approximately two minutes past 6:00 AM.”

“Just because
you
never sleep….”

“The Striking has been set for 10:00 this morning. You and Lucky should plan on arriving here no later than 8:00. We have to get her ready for the ceremony.”

“Of course. We’ll be there.” Aidan was fully awake now. “You’ve outdone yourself, Zeke. How did you manage to get the ceremony scheduled so soon? I was expecting this afternoon at the earliest.”

“There are some advantages to never sleeping, my young friend,” Zeke answered before ending the call.

Aidan shook his head at his silent cell phone, then sighing, raked a hand through his hair. If he just let Lucky sleep, maybe they wouldn’t have to face today’s ceremony—or the resulting one three days from now. Yeah, and then Josh would die and become a soul-sucking monster. Not a lot of good options to choose from, were there?

With another sigh, he headed back down the hall to wake Lucky and tell her the news.

***

The morning sky was a mass of gray clouds, and small rain was starting to fall as Aidan guided the silver BMW into a parking spot a couple of blocks from Zeke’s Hyde Park brownstone. Lucky had to struggle against the wind to close the passenger door. That same wind whipped her hair around her face as she and Aidan hurried down the sidewalk toward Zeke’s house. She shivered and clutched the too-large jacket she had borrowed from Aidan more closely around her.

She had been surprised to learn that Zeke lived just a few blocks from her own Hyde Park apartment. Strange to think the angel had been so near her all this time. She wondered if she had perhaps passed him on the sidewalk in her previous life, unaware of who—or what—he was and how important he would become to her.

She glanced at Aidan as they climbed the steps to the front door. Like the sky, his usual glow seemed overcast, and his eyes were shadowed. He rang the bell and then stepped back from the door to wait. Her eyes sought and found his, but he looked away. She had sensed his withdrawal the moment they stepped into the elevator and began their descent to the garage. And he had seemed to move further away from her the closer they had come to their destination, responding to her attempts at conversation with such monosyllabic answers, she had finally given up and remained silent for the remainder of the trip.

When Zeke opened the door, Aidan gestured for her to precede him inside, still without saying a word. Zeke hadn’t spoken either, and as Lucky followed his tall, silent figure through a chilly, unused-looking formal living room and down a hallway to a set of descending stairs, she began to think silence might be a necessary part of the preparation for the Striking ceremony.

Given what she assumed would be the formality of the occasion, she felt underdressed. She was once again wearing the black jeans and gray sweater she had put on the evening before. When they had exited Lake Shore Drive for Hyde Park, she had asked Aidan if they should swing by her apartment so she could change, but he had answered with a clipped “No need.”

Zeke turned right at the bottom of the stairs and ushered them into a large, warm room that seemed to serve as both office and sitting room. At one end sat a huge, old-fashioned desk, surrounded by stuffed bookshelves and topped with an incongruous-looking silver laptop, open and humming softly amid a nest of papers and scrolls; at the other, four worn leather armchairs were grouped into a cozy seating area around a low, round table. Lucky guessed this was where Zeke spent the majority of his time.

“Please, have a seat,” the angel said, indicating the leather chairs.

Lucky sat down, feeling even smaller than she was, since the large chair all but swallowed her. As Aidan settled into the chair next to hers, she tugged off her boots and pulled her feet up under her to sit cross-legged, so she took up more space.

Zeke gave her an affectionate smile. “And, by all means, make yourself comfortable,” he said.

“I suppose I should have asked before I put my feet up,” she responded. “This chair’s just so big and cozy.”

“It pleases me that you felt at home enough here to do it without asking.” Tilting his head toward Aidan with a raised brow, Zeke added, “Some people have even been known to engage in wrestling matches on those chairs without so much as a ‘by-your-leave.’”

“Can I help it my brother’s a barbarian?” Aidan finally spoke.

“
I’m
a barbarian? As I recall, you instigated more than your share of those wrestling matches.”

Lucky looked toward the door to find the source of the amused baritone. A man she had never seen before, but who was apparently Aidan’s brother, was lounging in the doorway, one shoulder propped against the frame, a fragile-looking china teacup cradled in one hand.

“Kev,” Aidan said, rising to his feet, “I should have known you would be here for the pre-game show.” His tone held a disconcerting mix of warmth and reserve.

Kev pushed away from the wall, taking Aidan’s extended hand with his free one. Not content with a handshake, he drew his brother into a half-embrace, shifting the cup so as not to slosh tea down his back. When Aidan stepped away from him and turned toward Lucky, his face showed the beginnings of a smile.

Before Aidan could speak, Kev said, “You must be the girl I’ve heard so much about. It’s nice to finally meet you, Lucky.” The eyes that raked her from head to foot before coming to rest on her own were a deep green flecked with gold.

Lucky rose to take the hand he held out toward her, while Aidan completed the introduction. “Lucky, this barbarian is my half-brother, Kevin Drake—also known as Satan.” Much of the warmth left his voice on the last word.

“Satan?” Lucky squeaked.

Kev cocked an eyebrow at his brother. “Nice,” he muttered.

Turning back to Lucky, he said, “You can call me Kev. And it’s
Ha-Satan,
actually—not a name, but a title—one I’ve had the dubious pleasure of holding for about two weeks now. As you might have guessed, my little brother is somewhat less than pleased about that.”

“It’s just because I’m worried about you, Kev.”

Aidan dropped back down into the chair beside Lucky’s. Kev shrugged out of his beat-up brown bomber jacket and took the chair on the other side of the table from him.

“Yeah. I’m kind of worried about me too, but, hey, what’s one more item added to the list?”

As Lucky curled back up in her chair, she studied the two young men, looking for a resemblance. She could see some similarity in their bone structure, and they were both lounging back in their chairs in similar positions. Other than that, they looked almost nothing alike. Where Aidan, with his golden hair and blue eyes, was like a summer beach, all sunlight and sky, sand and water, Kev was like a shady forest, with light filtering in patches through a canopy of leaves. The dark green shirt he was wearing somehow served to make the gold flecks in his eyes more pronounced, and the wavy brown hair that fell just to his shoulders was streaked with honey blond. He was a little shorter than Aidan, she had seen when they were still standing, and broader, his frame more heavily muscled, where Aidan’s was whipcord lean. She guessed he was about the same age as Josh.

“Is either of you going to explain the whole Satan thing to me?” she blurted. Then, realizing she had spoken without thinking and interrupted their conversation, she added, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, it’s alright. It’s even relevant,” Kev answered, surprising her. “I’m not here just because I’m Aidan’s brother.”

He paused as Zeke, who had left the room a little earlier, returned bearing a tray laden with tea and food. After Zeke had supplied them all with tea, and they had each filled a plate from the selection of muffins and breads, hard boiled eggs, bacon, and smoked salmon, Kev continued, “
Ha-Satan
is Lucifer’s representative to the Metatron. The term means ‘the adversary,’ and in some ways, I guess that’s what I am. As Lucifer’s representative, you could say my role is to act as a sort of devil’s advocate with them.”

“What does that have to do with why you’re here?” Lucky asked, selecting a mini poppy seed muffin from the items on her plate.

Kev paused with his lox and bagel halfway to his mouth. “Well, over the years the position has evolved.
Ha-Satan
serves as Lucifer’s representative in many ceremonies as well as in communication with the Metatron. That includes such things as Strikings and Makings. Lucifer may decide to come to the Making himself, who knows? But at least for the purposes of today’s Striking ceremony, I’m it.”

As Kev bit into his bagel and lox, Zeke picked up the explanation. “The Striking ceremony is very formal. You will be asked a series of questions and expected to give the standard responses. I asked you to arrive early so we could give you a general idea of what to expect, and so we could coach you on how to act and what to say. Once we have finished breakfast, we get to work.”

***

After her coaching session was over, Lucky was shown to a spare room where she exchanged her re-worn jeans and sweater for a loose-fitting silver-gray silk shift. She left her boots and socks with her discarded jeans and sweater, since Zeke had informed her she must be barefoot for the ceremony. Exiting the room, she felt more like she was dressed for bed than for a ceremonial gathering.

Joining the others in the cold formal living room, Lucky discovered that Zeke had changed clothes as well. He was now wearing a loose, long-sleeved robe of heavy ivory silk. Covering his chest and secured at his shoulders and waist was a gleaming breast plate marked with a complex design of curving loops and straight lines. Lucky assumed it was a sigil of some sort, since its style reminded her of the mark on Aidan’s back. Aidan was still dressed in the jeans and dark sweater he had donned that morning, since he would not be participating in the ceremony. Kev had left to prepare himself for his role as
Ha-Satan
.