Kendra Leigh Castle - Renegade Angel

“It’s only a flesh wound,” she informed him, then giggled foolishly. The laughter made the dizziness worse, though, and Ember brought her arms up to wrap around Raum’s waist. She groaned as her stomach gave a sudden, violent lurch.

“I’m going to be sick,” she announced, and her knees began to buckle beneath her.

He sighed, taking on more of her weight. “You’re going to be a lot worse than that if we don’t get you some help. Stupid demon. I don’t know who sent him, but he seems to have forgotten his orders. If I hadn’t killed him, his master would have … “ He trailed off, squeezing her tighter. Concern darkened his voice.

“Ember? Stay with me. Okay?”

“Hmm? You have the nicest voice,” she said, darkness beginning to encroach on her vision. “I could listen to you talk forever. Would you tell me a story?” Sleep was barreling toward her, though, and Ember frowned at the injustice. “Whassa matter with me, Raum?”

He bent, and in one quick motion caught her behind the knees and scooped her into his arms, cradling her like the child she suddenly felt like. The world spun nauseatingly, and she buried her face against the soft cotton of his shirt.

“Ohh,” she groaned. “Not good.”

“No,” he agreed, “it isn’t.” That undercurrent of anger in his voice had grown stronger. “Listen to me, Ember. That demon stuck his claws in you, and it looks like he was poisonous. You’ve got to try to stay awake, all right? I have to find someone who can help. So just … No, look, don’t do that,” he said as her head lolled back. He shoved it back against his chest and gave it a little shake for good measure. It didn’t feel great, but it pushed the darkness back a little.

“Are we flying?” she asked, remembering the wings.

“Mmm-hmm,” he replied, jostling her, and she realized, albeit dimly, that he was swinging a leg out the open window.

“Do you have an airsick bag, then?”

“Don’t even think about it,” he said. His voice was strained, and Ember thought he was probably imagining what might happen to his clothes in the absence of that airsick bag. Then she felt a rush of air, and clung more tightly to his chest as her stomach threatened to do exactly what he had just commanded it not to do.

“This is a hell of a way to start,” she heard him growl. “Don’t you dare die, Ember Riddick.”

“‘Kay,” she murmured, feeling her world tip and begin to go black again. “Raum?”

“What?”

“Are you my Guardian Angel?” she asked, and smiled at his snort, which was as much of an answer as anything.

“No,” he finally said.

She dug her fingers more tightly into his shirt, and only fleetingly wondered whether her claws had retracted. Either way, he didn’t flinch, didn’t make a sound. And it no longer mattered, because she was falling, falling, like Alice down the rabbit hole, into a darkness that even she couldn’t see through.

“Save me anyway?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Then she was gone.

Raum soared into the night sky on ebony wings, a blur invisible to the human eye as he cradled his un conscious cargo close to his chest. The death smell mingled unpleasantly with the autumn spice of the night air, fueling his urgency as he headed for a place where it would be safe to call upon the power he would need. How, Raum asked himself, had he managed to get himself into the position of playing not only Guardian, but hero? It was utterly disgusting.

He glanced quickly down at the woman in his arms, noted how pale she had become, the shallowness of each breath. Even her natural warmth, higher than that of an average human, was growing cold. Her jerked his head up and flew faster, swallowing his rising panic.

Damn whoever had chosen the cataclysmically stupid, poisonous nefari to send after him, he thought angrily. And damn him for his utter lack of sense where the woman was concerned. He should have known she’d be watched. Hell, he shouldn’t even be here.

In seconds, the mountains were all around him, the dark shapes of the trees beckoning him into their safe haven. When he found a likely spot, Raum dropped lightly from the sky and landed in a secluded clearing. This was a cool, dark, soothing place, and rife with both the rich scent of decaying leaves and the wintry promise of pine in every frigid breath. A good place. He needed privacy for this.

Raum strode to the center of the clearing, bathed in the light of a moon that was nearly full. In his arms, Ember began to shiver uncontrollably. He could actually feel the life force ebbing from her, could feel the final spark of warmth, her soul, preparing to take flight.

It would, he knew, make Gadreel happy. The rest would just see it as an easier way out of the situation and think nothing more of it. But if the Nexus had drawn Ember to it, it would eventually draw another with the ability to open it. That was the way of the old magic of Earth: it called to those who could hear it.

But beyond that, something about Ember Riddick intrigued him. Pulled at him, even more than her beauty. All week, he had watched her, solitary even as she interacted with those around her. She kept much to herself because she had to, Raum assumed. Perhaps, probably, she’d been hurt for being what she was. At first, he’d wondered if maybe the cycle was repeating itself completely and she had a nefari lover already. He’d been far too relieved to discover that wasn’t the case.

He just hoped he remembered what he was doing, because it had been an awfully long time since he’d called upon this ability. Actually, he wasn’t certain he’d even retained it after his Fall.

Nothing like having to find out under duress.

“All right. Let’s get this over with,” he said, rolling his shoulders and neck as he planted himself firmly in the middle of the clearing, legs slightly apart. He adjusted Ember in his arms, exposing her small form to the pale light of the moon. Then, with a deep breath, Raum closed his eyes. Cleared his mind. And after a moment’s hesitation, called the Light.

He arched his back and spread his wings wide, wait ing. Slowly, he could feel it filling him, the white light of healing using him as a conduit to suffuse the woman he held. It started slowly, then strengthened, filling him until it pulsed right along with his heart. The power flowed faster, brighter, rushing through him and from him with such strength that the air around him began to whip and pull at him. And now it was Raum shuddering, fighting not to recoil as something wild and sweet flooded him, something he had forgotten long ago.

Beauty. Joy. Love …

Means to an end, he insisted to himself, even as the Light began to illuminate even the darkest places within him, invading. Awakening. Just a means to an end. I do not care. I will NEVER care. I am darkness. I am sin. I am the enemy of love.

That was about the time his hands, pressed against Ember, began to sting. Then throb.

Then smoke.

Raum’s eyes flew open in horror, and he let Ember fall to the ground just as they burst into flame.

“Son of a bitch!” he roared. Everything fled his thoughts but white-hot pain. Raum mashed his flaming hands against his chest and collapsed onto the ground, smothering the flames with both his weight and the damp soil and leaves beneath him. He closed his eyes tightly, though nothing on Earth, in the Above or the Below, could have taken him far enough away from the blinding pain in his hands.

Through gritted teeth, he began to recite some of his favorite human expletives.

His fury was rudely interrupted by a soft moan, and his anger vanished as he realized Ember was still sprawled on the ground where he’d dropped her. Raum scrambled over to where she lay, keeping his wounded hands close to his body.