Sentinel of Heaven (32 page)

Rueful
affirmative, with a tinge of concern... he wasn't normally like this.

“Yeah, really,”
she said flippantly.

No,
really
,
he replied as clearly as if spoken aloud.

“Oh hon,”
Moira sighed, wrapping a mental embrace around him.  He leaned into it as he
set the next shingle and positioned the nail for the hammer blow.

Not much to
say today; difficult to discuss poetry and literature in this fashion, and she
definitely didn't want to dig at all into her own job woes.  But there wasn't
much that had to be said when it was possible to send straight unfiltered
emotion back and forth.  Moira kept a steady flow of love and calm to him as
she enjoyed her meal, and Leo relaxed in it and transmitted quiet gratitude and
equal affection.  She calmed the rising storm in his mind, helped him return to
himself from the more visceral aspects of his soul that dismayed him.

She 'hugged'
him tightly from seventy miles away when it was at last time to go – Erica
might be absent for the day but the time clock still reigned supreme.

“It will be
okay, baby,” she told him firmly.  “I'll be home as soon as I can.”

Leo was
willing to let her optimism lead; he sent a last kiss as the rapport shut down.

The same guard
was at the desk when she walked back into the building.  “Where do you go each
day?” he asked, his chin propped in one slim hand.  “Every time you come back
you're happier.”

Moira turned
away from clocking in to study the man in turn.  He was young-ish for the
security guys, with a tight fade haircut and a tan that hinted at National
Guard weekend work.

She focused
her smile on him, her free hand on her hip.  “Is it that noticeable?”

“Yeah,” he
answered, grinning in response.  “You glow, even.”

She let her
smile spread, slow and sensual, her green eyes sparkling, and was delighted
when the man actually blushed.  He was kinda cute...

“Maybe I'm in
love,” she answered airily, tossing her head.  She sashayed away, feeling his
gaze up and down her back.  Oh Moira, you are
not
Nice.

The afternoon
was spent polishing the slideshow for her presentation, how exciting.  She'd
only have thirty minutes of her managers' time – what they thought was
sufficient to determine what sort of raise to give her for the next twelve
months.  Moira wanted to show them as much as possible about the Collectors but
if it took too much of the thirty minutes they might think she'd done nothing
with the previous fifty weeks.

What a damned
thing:  her business sensibility warring with her morality.  Erica must have it
so much easier, not having a soul to get in her way.

Around 4:30
she just couldn't make herself play with the slides anymore so she went ahead
and backed everything up again, both the raw data and the finished presentation. 
Last time, she thought.  Next time I'm in the building it's going to be lift-off
hour.

She popped a
pain pill once she finally noticed her jaw was clenching, then gathered up her
belongings and rode down to the ground floor again.  The guard had changed; the
older man who sat at the desk now was distantly friendly, giving a brief wave
as she limped by.

Then out on
the roads again, mind at ease and breathing even.  With a free day ahead to be
home with Leo, not even Molon Labe Staffing could properly haunt her.  The
crowds on the interstate were thinning; the drive itself was smooth and
pleasant.

Nothing could
compare to the quiet anticipation of slipping the car's wheels back into the
ruts of her dirt driveway, however.  No turn of the empty road could be as
sweet as that last one, curving around the corner of her house to look up onto
the patio and see her man lounging at his ease, gazing back at her and smiling,
his wings folded behind him.

To her delight
he put his palm flat on the wooden rail that separated them and vaulted easily
over it, landing as lightly as a cat next to the car as she parked it.

“Someone's
feeling eager,” she purred, opening her door and passing her bags out to him.

“Step into the
house and find out how much, my lady,” Leo dared her.

She raised her
eyebrows and said nothing, but smiled when he reached out to touch her face. 
He stepped back and opened the door for her to precede him.  No matter his
state of mind his care for her was still foremost and evident; he was already
managing her pain again as he put her belongings away.

Then he was on
his knees before her in the kitchen, drawing her gently to him.  “My lady –
kiss me or I die.”

Moira chuckled
at his dramatics but obeyed, loving the way his huge arms enfolded her
completely.  With a growing skill and finesse she opened the bond just a little
ways and felt her brows go up again in surprise.

Despite his
relatively calm exterior Leo was filled with a seething energy, a driving force
whose reins he gripped now in both mental fists and sawed against, seeking
mastery of it and so far failing.

“Did you
change the old bedroom?” she pulled far enough away to ask.

“Yes, my lady,
I did...” he murmured, kissing down her throat.

“And would you
show it to me?  What you've done?”  Moira persisted.  She felt a shudder rack
his entire frame – the image of leather reins wrapped taut around his scarred
forearms rose up again – and now, if he did not manage to halt the chariot's
mad journey, at least he turned its course.

He released
her and pushed himself to his feet quickly.  “Absolutely, as my lady wishes,”
he said, escorting her to the closed bedroom door, which he opened with a
surprising lack of fanfare.

If the reading
room had an Eastern influence, this new space had a Western one.  Leo had
transformed it into a true boudoir. 

The angel
shifted restlessly beside her.  “Your old furniture is in the attic.  Should
you not like these changes I can bring it all back.”

“It's lovely,
Leo – let me look a moment and see all that you've done.”

Gone was the
old wooden paneling; in its place a deep burgundy wall covering that shimmered
like watered silk.  The lush rug was a dark gold; she took off her socks and
shoes to enjoy its surface.  The ceiling was a smooth creamy eggshell color
with a high gloss that reflected light from new wall sconces.  The overall feel
was one of opulence.

The furniture
choices made the biggest difference, however.  Leo had summoned for her a new
makeup table and bench; the mirror was perfectly lit and at a good height for
her.  Her seldom-used cosmetics were in their places as they had been on the
rickety old Formica table in the bathroom.

Brocaded
chairs sat next to small enameled tables and a chaise longue occupied the space
in front of the room's sole window.  A full-length mirror in a rococo frame
stood in majestic isolation against one wall; a lacquered changing screen made
a corner of the room private, across from the closet.

Moira trod
across the carpet to sample the texture of the lush upholstery of the couch.  “This
is marvelous,” she breathed.  “I love every bit of it.”

She could feel
him step close behind her, so close that the hectic warmth of his bare chest
radiated against her shoulders.

“That pleases
me greatly...” One wide hand stroked the curve of the back of her head and down
the plane of her neck, slipping fingertips beneath the silver chain of the
moonstone necklace she wore.

His necklace,
given to her.

“That pleases
me,” he said again, voice so low she barely could hear him, “because I wish to
start in here, and before we rest tonight I will have you in every room of this
house. 
Our
house.”

Moira turned
slowly to look up at him.  Leo didn't move, only gazed down at her.  His eyes
were huge and so dilated they looked black in the decadent light of the room. 
He stared at her through a long silent moment.

“And if I were
to say no?” she challenged him, her face completely calm.

The massive
angel blinked.  His wings twitched and refolded themselves quickly – a
discomforted tic that didn't disturb his craggy features.  His expression
remained almost as blank as hers.

“No?” he
echoed.

“Correct. 
What happens if I say no?”

The question
appeared to deeply perplex him.

“But why?” he
asked at last.

“Because that
is my bodily right of autonomy as a human being, to refuse sex if I don't want
it,” she prompted.

“You do not?” 
Leo's eyes were still dilated, filled with lust and perplexity.

Moira sighed. 
“Sit,” she said.

He folded
himself immediately, cross-legged on the carpet in front of her.  She perched
on edge of the chaise longue facing him.

“Let me
apologize to you,” she said tenderly, reaching out to stroke his temple.  “You
told me you felt like there was something wrong, and I didn't take it
seriously.  I thought you were disconcerted by the strength of your desire,
when sex can be so casual for one of your kind.

“But you were
right – Leo, baby, this isn't like you.  I need you to look inside yourself and
see if you can discover what's happening so that we can both understand it.”

His blank gaze
kept her pinned a moment longer – long enough for her to be concerned.

Then he
dropped his stare, shifting closer to lay his empty hands lightly folded in her
lap.  “Your words are wise, my lady – I will do as you have bid.  Will you wait
here with me?”

She covered
his scarred wrists with her palms.  “Of course, love.”

Moira said
nothing as the minutes stretched out, trying to be as still and quiet as
possible so as not to distract him.  Searching his incomplete psyche and his
patchy memories would be difficult enough.

She studied
his expressionless face, with its heavy features and deep lines
.  My lover
is no beauty – not to the world,
she thought. 
But I wouldn't trade
his face for a hundred thousand pretty boys.  He is striking and strong, and
there will always be something to draw my eyes back.  I'd never change a thing.

“Oh,” he
breathed, interrupting her reverie.  “That is... embarrassing.”

“What is it?”

Leo opened his
eyes; they had returned to their clear sky blue.  “It is embarrassing,” he
repeated, a flush rising on his cheeks.  His sudden blushes would always
delight her.

“You should
know by now that you can tell me anything.”  She squeezed his huge hands
affectionately.

“My body,” he
said, and lowered his eyes again, “... my body has been trying to mate with
yours.”

Moira raised
an eyebrow.  “I know, Leo – I was there.”

He laughed
despite himself.  “No – I mean... I am fertile, currently.  I am not in control
of my full faculties so I did not realize it had occurred.  Being in love and
feeling the foresight of an oncoming struggle triggered the urge of my body
when otherwise – properly – it would have been by decision alone.”

His gaze came
back to hers, inexplicably sad.  “If you were also an angel and of like mind,
you would be pregnant by now.  My body can tell that you are not pregnant but
did not understand why, therefore the urge increased.”

“Thus your
single-mindedness about it tonight.”

“Yes.”

“Had it ever
been like that before?  The urge to procreate, I guess?”

“Only once,
for me,” he answered, seeming almost reluctant.  “Before the Great War.  I had
not been a general long; I knew that strife was eminent and there was a
possibility of my body's destruction and my soul's return to the High Provenance.”

“And did you,
then?” she asked in a soft encouraging tone when he did not volunteer more.

“No, my lady. 
I shared pleasures of the moment with other celestials but denied the impulse
to be fertile.  The time was too chaotic; too traumatic for all in Provenance. 
I decided that if I were to survive the war I would see then about passing on
my traits – I would not feel I had earned the right, beforehand.

“Then once the
Great War ended the desire to breed left me, survival no longer being in
question.  I was a blooded commander and I had confidence in myself and my
abilities, both on and off the battlefield.  So then to sire a child would be
solely for the purpose of uniting my traits with someone else's.  Another
angel; a woman.”

He focused
again on her face, her eyes.

“I never found
someone I liked well enough to do so.  Although we do not rear our fledglings
in adult-pair families as humans do, nonetheless the birth of a child would
bind me in some way to its mother, forever.”

Realization
slowly dawned in her, of why his expression was so sorrowful.

Leo shrugged. 
“My friends and nest-mates have bred, some of them.  Their children grow fine
and strong.  From that generation will come my replacement – when I at last am
willing to surrender that honor to them!”

The final bit
was said with a laughing growl that was all her Leo – powerful, fierce, in
control again.  Then his momentary mirth faded again in his contemplation of
her visage.

“But now...”
she breathed.

He smiled his
sweet little smile, freeing one of his hands to cover both of hers.

“The High Provenance
is pleased to jest,” he murmured, “in that they have finally led me to the only
woman I've found worth mating...”

“Who cannot be
mated.”

“It is Provenance’s
loss, as well.  A child of our souls and selves would be the only one capable
of surpassing myself as a commander.  A warrior, in both mind and body:
merciful, creative, courageous in the face of fear.  Both brilliant and canny. 
Male or female – that child would be a juggernaut, a titan.  Unstoppable.  A
wise protector and a terrifying enemy.  All things a general should be.”

He faltered to
a stop.

“Provenance’s
loss... and yours?” she suggested gently.

“Queen of my
heart,” he whispered, emotion filling his eyes, “what loss could I possibly
feel, if I have your love?”

“The loss of a
relationship with a woman capable of bearing your child?” Moira asked.  “This
is a serious thing, Leo.  You've told me I can't become pregnant by you and I
believe you.  And me being human, me being stuck in a busted-up mortal body – I
don't ever want kids, myself.

“What I need
to know now is: will that be a deal-breaker for you?”

“It
is
a serious question, between mortals and celestials.  A few couples I have known
before, of male angels and mortal women, have agreed to mortal male surrogates
when the woman wants a child.

“I have known
only one pair of a mortal man and a celestial female... they did divorce over
it.  It wounded his ego somehow, to not get an heir on her flesh.”  Leo's
expression showed how little he thought of
that
.

“But you and
I, my lady... I would only want a child if it could be of ours, souls and
bodies.  Since that cannot be, I do not want otherwise.  It is only my foolish
flesh that has raised the issue.”

“And that is
under control now?”

“Absolutely. 
To know and to understand that drive is to conquer it.”

“Oh good,” she
said, “because my answer is yes.”

“Yes?  To
what?”

“To your
having me in every room of our house tonight... or more likely tonight and
tomorrow.  Your lover is mortal and requires rest, after all.  That is...
unless your desire has faded?”

He rose up on
his knees to gather her in his arms.  “Not in the slightest, my lady.”

“Now let me
ask you a more difficult question,” she breathed in his ear.

“Say on...”

“Will it harm
you in any way – physically or emotionally – to be fertile from time to time?”

“No, my love;
but why do you ask?”

“Because these
last two days when we made love it has
not
been a game, not simply a
toy or a pleasant way to pass a few hours, not to your body.  Your flesh has
been deadly earnest in its efforts, in a way that you've not shared with any
other woman.

“I like it.  I
want it.  That tribute proves to me that I'm different from the rest, because I
know my body feels the same about you.   Every time we make love I exult in
it.  There's something significant in the act that never was there before for
me.

“My body wants
to take what you give it and claim it forever, utterly and irretrievably.  And
I can feel the difference in you now, the craving, the carnal survival drive
your interest lacked before.

“So mate with
me, knowingly and in truth.  Our minds understand that nothing comes of it but
pleasure... and our bodies don’t have to be told.”

He pulled back
to study her expression; his eyes remained calm and blue but something of that
sensual tension returned.

“You wish us
to mate, my lady?”

“Wholeheartedly.”

“Say it,” he
demanded.

“I wish us to
mate, Leo.”

“I merely want
to be sure of your will,” he continued, his lips sly on the words, “because
earlier you said no.”

“Ahhh, but I
didn't – I most carefully refrained.  All I did was ask the purely rhetorical
question of what would
happen
, were I to say no.”

“And now
you... non-rhetorically... say yes?”

“Yes, angel.”

He chuckled in
the back of his throat.

“I shall
repair this later,” he promised her conversationally, both hands moving to the
neckline of her shirt – which he then tore open all the way down the front,
sliding the two halves of it off her arms and casting it away from them.

“Oh my God,”
she said, shuddering in a sudden wave of lust.

“God is not
here,” Leo said, pupils widening ever so slightly, “and if they were, it were
best they kept their hands to themselves.”  He reached around her back with one
hand and unhooked her bra, peeling it away and throwing it on the floor behind
him.

“Do you
realize I have never been fertile at all before you?  I never became so, not
even from curiosity.”  His tone was still casual despite the increasing fire in
his gaze.  “I only learn now it has some... side effects.”

“Oh?” she
managed, not quite able to draw a full breath.

“Yesss...  For
one thing... prior to this I could have watched you couple with another being
right in front of me, and had they treated you respectfully and satisfied you
completely I would care not.  But  now...”

Leo exhaled
slowly through his nose; his voice became almost gravelly.

“In this heat
I could not countenance such a thing; I find myself painfully possessive of
your body.  Were any entity to approach you now and seek to seduce you – man,
beast, angel, demon, or God – I would kill it with my bare hands.

“Only
I
shall
mate you until you command otherwise, because your word and your will are my
law...”

He closed his
arms around her hips and pulled her to him, setting his wings on the floor
around the fainting couch and leaning on them, the better to put his lips on
her aching nipples.

Moira slid her
hands into his hair and held his head to her as he suckled, tightening her grip
to the edge between pleasure and pain, hearing him growl again.

“Only you are
fit
to mate me,” she answered deliberately.  “Only you are worthy of me.”

“Ahh, my
queen!” he moaned, bearing her up fully onto the couch and himself over her
reclining frame, his hands unbuttoning and unzipping her pants to tug them down
and off.

“Also the
urge... the urge to mark you with my mouth.”

“You already
did,” she said, brushing her fingers over the sore spot at the base of her
neck.

“Yes, and
more... perhaps the inside of this sleek white thigh... leave a sign there that
you are taken.”  Another ripping sound – her underwear being destroyed in his
hands.

“We should
reserve your fertility for when we’re in the mood for it,” she remarked.

“Do you fear
me now, my lady?”

“No – it's
rough on my clothing...”

He chuckled again
and straddled the backless couch, pants vanishing with a thought.

“And the worst
thing yet,” he said, fingers seeking where she was already damp and blushing, “the
lack of patience, the desperate drive – I could not bear to climax in your hand
or your mouth now.  Nothing else will do but to be buried in you; even being
this far away is agony.”

She slid down
against the upholstery, laying her legs across his knees, reaching between them
to stroke her fingertips up the length of his erection.  Leo grunted like a man
under the first lash of a whip, shutting his eyes briefly.

“Please,
Moira,” he breathed.

“I make the
general beg?” she asked in disbelief.

“You make your
mate beg; your lover beg.”  He opened the bond slowly and she saw the image
present in his mind: he was standing alone in an inferno, rocked by an
unstoppable firestorm, awaiting certain destruction.

“Come here,”
Moira said.  He moved closer to her, pinning her between his body and the one
high arm of the chaise longue.  She wrapped her arms around his neck; the
moonstone pendant gleamed on her breast.

“Come into me,”
she whispered.  “Mate with me.”

He bent his
head silently, the fall of his tarnished hair silky around her in the low light
as he drank from her lips; she felt him guide his flesh to hers, then move his
hand away as his body found what it sought and sank home eagerly.  When she
enfolded him completely he shuddered once all over, and lay his cheek along the
crown of her head.

“I find my
sanity inside you again,” he gasped.

“Breathe,” she
said, and smiled.

“I thought
myself strong, until I loved you.”