Incorporeal (9 page)

Sara took a deep breath and blew it out. “What are you?”

It seemed to Sara that Nathan looked everywhere but into her eyes. At last he met her gaze. “I don’t know. Sara, I wish to hell I did, but I don’t know what I am.”

Sara knew she should leave, but she couldn’t let go of Nathan’s hand. “One more question. What language do you speak? I mean, when we make love, sometimes you say things to me, words that don’t sound like Spanish.”

Nathan’s smile crinkled his eyes, causing her heart to flip-flop. “I speak Castilian, Andaluz, Arabic and Hebrew, Greek, Latin and of course, English. I’m not always aware which language I use when we make love.”

Blushing now, Sara made a move to leave the porch, but Nathan tugged her back. “You have another question on the tip of your tongue. I can sense it.”

Holding back her laughter, Sara asked him, “You can, can you?”

“
Yes. I’ve come to know you very well. Remember, I watched you for a very long time before I made my presence known.”

“
Hey, that’s right. About that…” Nathan drew her into his arms, interrupting her thoughts.

“
I have to leave, Nathan.” Sara looked up at him.

“
Yes, I know. Ask your question.”

She rubbed her cheek against his rough linen shirt, realizing she’d have to buy him some clothes now that he was corporeal. “Your mother,” Sara murmured. “What was her name?”

Nathan’s chest expanded as he answered. “Katherine Neville.”

For an instant, the name didn’t register. Sara sucked in a breath and took a step back. “Katherine Neville, as in the War of the Roses Nevilles? You said she was from a semi-royal family. Did you mean, like, the Kingmaker’s family? Richard Neville?”

Nathan nodded. One look at the expression on his face told Sara it would be better to leave well enough alone, at least for now. She rose on tip-toes and gave him a kiss before leaving him, forcing her legs to walk to the garage.
This is a lot to digest
.

“
Will you write it?” He called after her, his voice low. “Will you include my mother in your book?”

Sara turned. “I don’t know, Nathan. I don’t know that I want to finish the book.”

Before she could run back to him and bury herself in his arms, she threw up the garage door and climbed behind the wheel of her car.
Unreality is starting to set in. I’ve got to leave because I’m about to convince myself that I’ve lost my mind
.
There is no other explanation; at least nothing logical comes to mind.

In fact, the only real question here involves my sanity.

Sara backed the car down the driveway, shooting a glance at the house. The front door was closed and Nathan was nowhere in sight. The story of his family’s fate spun round and round in her brain like a windmill.

They were burned by the Inquisitors. The Crown confiscated his father’s wealth only to lose it a year later. His mother was a Neville. I’m in love with a man who’s been dead for over five hundred years. But he doesn’t remember dying. Gaaaa!
Sara smacked the steering wheel with her open palm.
Quit it! You’ll go mad if you think about the impossible nature of, well, this, of everything. Nathan is impossible. Sure there are ghosts, you’ve seen plenty, but Nathan’s presence is simply impossible.

He can’t exist. You’re in love with a man who can’t exist on any plane. Not on earth, not in heaven, and not in hell. Apparently, he’s only corporeal in your house and between your thighs.

Sara stopped at a red light and rested her forehead on her hands.
Your mother was right, you know; you girl, are certifiable. I wish my dad was still alive.

***

Nathan returned to the kitchen and poured himself a mug of coffee. He drank the first cup black, but he tried the second cup with cream and sugar, enjoying the dark, fragrant beverage both ways. Shaking his head, Nathan wondered at the fact he could taste at all.

He knew Sara had many questions. He shared them. Sooner or later, she’d get around to asking why he didn’t have an accent. He did, and he’d noticed now that he was corporeal, it had grown stronger. In death he had no accent. In Sara’s house, he’d had to work to suppress it.

A corner of his mouth twitched as he remembered her question, and he wondered which language he’d spoken when they’d made love. He doubted it was Hebrew. Sara would have recognized it. Possibly he spoke Arabic. It was very much a language of love, but she might be somewhat familiar with that too. Andaluz? Yes, he thought back. Andaluz and Arabic, mumbled in the midst of passion might be difficult to understand.

Mug in hand, Nathan opened the back door and stared out over the expanse of green. The morning air held a delightful chill, but if he could, Nathan would have stepped out onto the grass without hesitation. It was impossible. He’d been given a precious gift; but many things, including the ability to leave the house, let alone any knowledge of what he was, had been withheld from him.

All at once, Nathan felt the world shift on its axis. He spun on his heels, coffee mug flying from his hand. The steaming liquid splattered across the cabinets and the mug smashed against the countertop, barely noticed, as the stone-faced Guardian materialized in the center of Sara’s kitchen. The angel had diminished his size to fit into the room, yet his aura expanded far beyond the confines of the house; distorting the very air surrounding the two of them.

Nathan automatically inclined his head, marveling at the creature’s unconscious majesty. His voice hoarse, his throat contracted, he asked, “Guardian, what…what are you doing here?”

The Guardian inclined his head in return, but not far. Nathan knew the gesture was nothing more than a courtesy. The subtle difference reflected the enormous abyss in their rank. In the Angel’s eyes, Nathan ranked just above a speck of dust.

“
Natan de Manua, I’ve come to deliver a message.”

“
From my family?” Nathan interrupted.

A cold smile cracked the Guardian’s face. “You persist in deluding yourself. You continue to imagine these circumstances are about you. Your presence here, your contact with the woman, has never been about you.”

Nathan raised an eyebrow.
Not about me?

“
You were not allowed to come back for your own sake, but for hers. Sara Wise is
chayil
, a woman of noble character She possesses value. Natan de Manua is already dead. He has none.”

Nathan inclined his head once again, this time bowing lower.

“
Have you forgotten your mission?” The Guardian’s voice hit him like a brick.

Nathan cleared his throat and tried to stiffen his spine. “I know my mission. I’m here to protect her. But I don’t know yet…”

“
You will recognize the danger when it comes, and you will be ready. It matters whether the woman lives or dies.”

“
You must have a great deal invested in her,” Nathan said, “or you wouldn’t be here.”

The Guardian’s stare was brittle as ice. “You state the obvious, and it is not
I
who has anything invested in her life or her death. I am merely a messenger.”

What interest did the Most High…?
“Then I should keep my distance, stay away from Sara. I should remain incorporeal until I’m needed.”

“
No.” The Guardian’s features softened perceptibly. “Do not turn your back on her.” Golden eyes stared into Nathan’s. “Don’t think to warn her; it will do no good. No, you must remain here.”

The Angel studied the kitchen with undisguised indifference. He poked a long finger against Sara’s French press coffee maker. “Humans.” He made a motion that Nathan could only describe as a dismissive shrug. “They have a saying; never look a gift horse in the mouth. You are a gift horse, Natan de Manua.”

Nathan opened his mouth to speak, but the Guardian had already vanished, empty air shimmering in its wake.

Nathan blew out a breath, watching the coffee drip down the cabinets onto the countertop.
A gift horse? The Guardian doesn’t mince words. The danger must be approaching. Still, why would Sara warrant the intervention of a Guardian? They never intervene, or at least, to my knowledge they don’t deign to intervene.

But your knowledge is limited. You’ve made sure of that. You have no idea when, why or even how they intervene. You only know that occasionally spirits from the other side try to protect the living, and occasionally they succeed. That is your purpose, isn’t it, to play the role of guardian angel?

The Guardian was right. Nathan had become so involved with Sara that he’d let his attention lapse. He closed his eyes, reaching out with his enhanced senses. No threat existed in the present. His woman was safe, for now.

***

Oh my god, how am I supposed to concentrate?
Sara closed her eyes and rubbed her throbbing temples with her fingertips.
I want to be with Nathan. Who knows how much longer he can stay? What if he’s pulled out, or killed, or… Christ, I don’t know what heavenly beings do when they take someone out of a body anymore than I know how they put someone into a body
.

I only know I don’t want him to leave
.

His history, the story of his family, had rocked her. It was no wonder he had unfinished business.
So much lingering tragedy
. Sara wondered how many other ghosts from that time period were still hanging around, trying to fix things.

But Nathan hasn’t asked me to fix anything
.

Sara’s eyes flew open. With a quick look to make certain her boss was nowhere in sight, she turned to her computer, opening a new tab.
Neville
.
I’m certain the Neville family survived the Tudor era
. She scanned the computer screen. Yes, there were surviving semi-royal descendants of the Kingmaker. They still lived on their properties in the north of England.

“
Miss Wise?”

“
Huh?” Sara started. She swung her chair around, hoping it wasn’t anyone associated with her boss. She didn’t recognize the young woman in the doorway.

“
I have a delivery for you.”

“
Oh, okay. Sorry, I was, uh, in the middle of something. C’mon in.” Sara rose to her feet.

The young woman carried in a big pastel-colored box. It looked so heavy Sara gave her a hand. Together, they set it on her desk. “What is this?” Sara asked.

The woman flashed Sara a smile. “I’m not sure, but there’s a card.” She pointed to the side of the box.

Sara fished through her wallet for a couple dollars. “Here you go, and thanks.”

The woman vanished with a wave. Sara pulled the card away from the side of the box. She ripped it open. It was from her friend, Dalton. As Sara read the card, she began to laugh. Dalton had written an awful poem.

Roses are red.

Violets are blue.

Write what you love

And Leah will love you.

May this book be the first of many. Your best friend, Dalton.

Book? What book?
Sara flipped the lid off the box and tore through the yellow tissue paper. There, buried beneath a layer of red rose petals, lay a big hunk of rich, dark chocolate shaped like a romance novel. Sara ran her hand delicately over the molded chocolate cover. Her fingers traced the outline of a very buff male torso and the title, Incorporeal, by Sara Wise.

Even as Sara grinned at the image, tears filled her eyes. Dalton was such a good friend, and she had such high hopes for her.
What if I disappoint her? Chances are I’ll disappoint everyone, myself included. I’m not expecting much to come out of this meeting.

Sara hit speed dial on her phone. Dalton picked up on the third ring. Sara put her on speaker.

“
I got your gift, Dalton. I don’t, I honestly don’t know what to say except for…”

“
Thanks?” Dalton interrupted.

“
Yes, thanks. Thank you so much. You really went all out with this.”

Dalton crowed with delight. “I know I did. Don’t you love it? It’s a limited first edition, one of a kind. And the chocolate is so smooth, so wicked and so decadent, you know, just the way every romance novel should be.”

Smiling, Sara swiped at a tear that trailed down her cheek. “Dalton, I think you’re obsessed with romance.”

“
Who isn’t?” asked her friend. “I’m serious. Sara, do you know anyone who isn’t obsessed with romance? The world is a dark place, romance gives us hope.”

“
You’re right. And you’re such a good friend to me. You have to come over and share this, for like, the next year.”

“
Oh no, no sharing, not until you have a contract in the bag. I have a really good feeling about your dinner. Leah Rosen is going to sign you to a contract for a paranormal series. Then we celebrate.”

Sara laughed. “I’d almost forgotten about the dinner until I opened your gift. Two days, it’s in two days. I am so not ready.”

“
Forget?” Dalton cried. “How could you forget something as important as dinner with Leah Rosen? This is your dream, girl! Oh, I get it. He fucked your brains out again, didn’t he?”