Sentinel of Heaven (39 page)

After an
instant she shifted the Blade to her left hand and extended her empty palm to
him.  “My name is Moira,” she said coolly, although her lips quirked against
her will.  “The doxy.”

The angel bent
over her knuckles in as courtly a manner as she could have asked.  “I am
Barachiel, for my crimes.”

“May Provenance
forgive them,” muttered Leo, gently extracting the Blade from Moira's grip and
returning it safely to the portal of his wing.

“Shall we be
friends evermore, little sister – you have the heart of a man!”

“In my other
set of pockets,” she said through a toothy smile, which set him laughing again.

Leo coughed
and Barachiel subsided, still grinning widely.  “We have destroyed one army
today and the victory is mighty, it is true; but we may not yet rest.  I will
go to confer with the High Provenance soon.  Until a time that I receive new
orders the duties are as follows:  Barachiel and Galizur, choose you each two
others and return to the valley.  Remain in phase-space only, do not come back
to the physical world.  There you will watch, and spell each other as the need
for sleep and recharge demand. 

“Mortals will
come to clean away the evidence.  Move to follow them and split up when
necessary, remaining in touch with each other.  Pursue them unseen as far as
you may – although we have removed a hand the foe's head still lives.  No
celestial will be safe and none others may return to the mortal dimension until
the Collectors are completely destroyed.

“Report back
as you are able; tracking the enemy should be your foremost concern.  Go now,
save for Gabriel – there is another task for him.”

The six angels
bowed and vanished from sight.  Gabriel nodded respectfully.  “What wish you,
milord Commander?”

Leo turned
from him to look at Moira; the three of them formed a triangle whose shape was
not yet set.

“To heal my
lady of her ancient wounds,” he said to Moira's gaze.

“Leo?” Moira
asked, struggling to breathe in the sudden welter of emotion.

“Leo?” Gabriel
echoed.  “Why does she call you that?”

“On the night
of the Leonid meteor shower I was wounded and fell to earth.  When she found me
I was bereft of all memories, including my name.  She christened me 'Leo',
meanwhile.”

Gabriel's sea-green
eyes flashed; strangely offended.  “Know you not, little sister, the true name
of the man who put the work of his hands at your throat?  Here stands before
you the foremost warrior of the Host, Lord Commander of the Army of the Skies,
without parallel or peer, God's mighty silver blade – he who is known to our
younger siblings of humanity as Michael but is more rightly called Ithuriel,
the Spear of Heaven himself!”

By the end of
the statement his voice was strident, risen almost to a shout.  Leo clapped his
broad hand warningly over the smaller angel's forearm.

“From
her
mouth,” he stressed, “I prefer Leo.”

Something
passed between them in their silent stare; Moira looked from one profile to the
other, seeking to understand.

Gabriel's gaze
was the first to falter.  Without another word he turned and walked down the
shore.  Her grey-haired lover knelt before her in the tatters of his pants,
taking both her hands in his.

“Were things
different,” he began, his eyes painfully earnest, “I would be content that we
spend the next seventy years together with all as it is right now.  Your wounds
are precious to me, because they are a part of yourself.  Until the day you died
and returned to Provenance in the cradle of my soul it would be my joy and
privilege to manage your pain, and to do all that I have done this last
fortnight – in a word, to serve you and all your needs, however great or small.

“But with the
Collectors uncovered and the Taken Ones returned... now war shall come for
Heaven again, and our enemies are nothing if not underhanded.  Already you have
become a target for those who would seek to strike at myself and my kind.

“I will do my
best to hide us and keep you safe until we destroy them utterly, but my
protections and that of my warriors may not be enough.  Even one moment of
carelessness might be sufficient to give them access to you and in that instant
you must be both prepared and capable enough to stand a chance of escape.  A
physical form in full health and ability may turn the balance in your favor.

“Need compels
me where Love alone would not, to change what my heart would call flawless.  I
beg you, my lady – allow my brother to heal your body.”

Moira took a
deep breath at last and smiled through the tears risen in her eyes.  “Leo,
darling... you misunderstand me.  I know that you love me, whatever the
abilities of my body.  But I want to be healed.  I want the life back that I
lost.  I want to walk alongside you and fight this war with you, in all ways:
physically and mentally and spiritually.  Any weapon that can be added to your
arsenal, I want you to have it – including myself.”

He smiled in relief
and kissed her thoroughly.  When he drew back Gabriel was nearby once more,
externally calm.

“First wash
yourself in the ocean, Ithuriel.  I will need your assistance,”  he said.

Leo moved to
obey immediately, stripping out of the remains of his sweatpants.  Gabriel gave
Moira another glance.

“Disrobe
yourself and bathe somewhat; it'll make my job easier.”  He turned and walked
into the tide after his nest-mate.  Moira wrinkled her nose at his brusque
attitude but did as instructed.  If he really could heal her, she was prepared
to forgive all types of boorish manners – and a dip in the warm waves restored
some of her energy.  What time was it supposed to be now?  After dark at home,
at least. 

Although
home wasn't there anymore...

Put it
away, put it down, put it aside.

When she
turned back towards the shore both men were waiting at the rock; Gabriel
standing and Leo seated, cleansed of the blood that had spattered him.  She
limped to a stop a few feet away.

“We're doing
this naked?” she asked in disbelief.

Gabriel turned
to Leo.  “Nudity taboo?”  He nodded.

“What I will
do to fix you,” Gabriel explained, “is to reach through your flesh into your
body with my hands and put things right – removing the surgical foreign matter
from your wounds and rebuilding bone and tissue as it was originally grown.  I
can
work through clothing to do it but I would not advise the additional
distraction as the process will be complicated enough, as is.”

“What about
your clothes?”

“We don't
normally wear them.”  He folded his arms impatiently.

“Moira,” Leo
said softly.  “Do not fear.  His nakedness has no bearing on you.”

I wouldn't
say that,
she thought; but she did have to admit he was right.  She was
seizing at things that didn't matter in order to hold off from what did.  It
was too incredibly to think that an angel's magic could make her whole – what
if it failed?

She sighed and
shook her head, moving to Leo's side.  “Sit in his lap,” Gabriel ordered.  “Ithuriel,
hold her firmly – we'll fix her leg first, then the knee, then her back.”

Moira settled
with her shoulders against Leo's chest and tried to ignore the warmth of his
skin and the way her body longed to react to it.  He wrapped one arm tightly
around her midsection and held her left leg in the other, lifted to Gabriel's
scrutiny.  The golden angel's touch was light as he studied her lower extremity
thoroughly.

“Remember to
breathe,” Leo said to the top of her head.

“I would say
that this is not going to hurt, precisely... but it won't be comfortable.  Is
there anywhere you can put your hands so that you won't thrash around?” said
Gabriel.  Moira reached around Leo's left bicep and hugged it firmly.

Gabriel nodded
at her, then looked up.  “Do what you can for her with your power; any
distraction would be good.”

“I have it
handled, brother,” Leo answered.

“If you start
feeling squeamish,” Gabriel said, to Moira this time, “look away.”

She was about
to fire back with some asperity that she wasn't exactly a fainting flower but
Leo threaded a wave of endorphins through her system and she melted in his
grip.  Through half-closed eyes she watched Gabriel's hands sink into her skin
until he held the bone of her shin itself.  The sensation was somewhere between
an itch and a ticklish tingle – her first urge was to flinch away but Leo's hold
kept her still.

The sensation
intensified and so did Leo's power in her blood; she swooned against his chest
and tried to focus inside herself, hearing steel slats and bolts being dropped
carelessly to the rock beside them.

“Surgery has
certainly improved in the past hundred years or so,” Gabriel muttered.  “The
last time I was ordered to heal old wounds by our captors they had nothing even
close to this skill.  Decent work, to serve as well as it has – but not as good
as mine, of course...”

A crunching,
pulling type of feeling from her leg.  “That's got the tendon restored, good as
new.”  The tickling sensation increased; Moira bit the curve of her thumb to
hold down the laugh that threatened.

“Got her
still?”

“Yes.”

“Then on to
the knee.”

He nudged
between her legs and Leo shifted to make room for Gabriel's body in the circle
of Moira's thighs; the situation became finally too surreal and she burst into
embarrassed hysterical giggles. 
Naked on a beach rock on an island
somewhere in the south Pacific, between two inhumanly handsome naked guys, one
of whom she was fucking daily – at least I'm doing my whoring where no one who
knows the family can see it, Mother!

Tears of
strain welled up from between the press of her eyelids and slipped down her
cheeks; her palm crushed her lips closed over her clenched teeth. 

“Thank
Provenance,” the sardonic voice said softly as a gentle touch on her face
stroked away the damp tracks.  “I see now you
do
have mortal limits;
when you came to me in the trap I thought you a new-risen goddess.  An Isis or
an Athena reborn.”  Gabriel took her hand away from her mouth and lay it on
Leo's arm.  After a moment he caressed her face again and kissed her lightly on
the lips; Leo's calm breathing under her back never changed.

“Let's...
let's just please finish this...” she whispered.

“Keep your
eyes closed,” he instructed.  His tone was kinder now.  “If you need to make
noise, you can.  No one here but us to be impressed by your stoicism.”

His hand again
on the outside of her knee.  “Plastic parts, by the Gates!  Clever mortals.” 
Then his fingers sinking and she whined through her teeth; Leo opened the bond
and reached into her body, persuading her lungs to fill and empty in a slow
rhythm.

“I've got to
take these out before the bone can grow back.  It's going to feel weird for a
minute.” Her lower leg dropped an inch or two, to the surface of his thigh; he
was leaning with one bent knee on the rock in front of Leo.  Plastic clattered
to the worn surface of the stone; the sensation of her upper and lower leg not
quite being connected made her queasy.

“Not so much
longer; my brave warrior woman,” Leo murmured.  Bone and muscle were reforming
themselves, a creeping sensation for which humanity had no words. Moira let
loose a moan of dismay.

“It's done,
Moira – it's done,” Gabriel said after a moment.  “Here, move your leg and feel
it.”  His hands guided her to flex the knee; it folded as smooth and soundless
as it had when she was nineteen.  She could even feel her toes of her left foot
and wiggle them – the first time since that awful night.

“Oh angel,”
she said softly, and heard Gabriel's indrawn breath.

“Nearly over
now,” Leo said to both of them.

“Just the
spine is left... do you need a break?”

“No,” she
insisted.  Gabriel's hands were clinical as he moved her goodish knee and her
better knee so that her feet lay on the outside of Leo's thighs, then guided
Leo to lift her with forearms under her armpits, stretching her against his
chest.

“It's
better... easier, for the location of this injury... for me to work with it
from the front,” he was telling her tentatively.  “My hands will pass through
your torso.”

“Okay.”

“Ithuriel?”

“Ready,” he
answered, although she could hear his concern.

Moira opened
her eyes to see Gabriel's face unexpectedly close, his gaze directed at where
his fingertips were sinking through her flesh.  He drew in a slow breath
through slightly parted lips before he proceeded and she had to wonder what he
was thinking, what emotions he was feeling.  The brother who had fallen from
Heaven to save him was holding a naked woman spread open between them – the
woman who had gone into his Hell to bring him water, to bring him mercy – and
his own body was penetrating hers.  She knew how it must look right now; maybe
it didn't mean anything to him.  Maybe it was just another injury and his
orders to heal it.  Maybe he didn't see anything suggestive whatsoever about
it.

His turquoise gaze
flicked up to hers for an instant.

Then again...

“Don't move,”
he breathed; she shut her eyes once more.  His fingers coiled around her spinal
column.  A world away she heard the steel screws clink on the rock's surface. 
Minute adjustments to the tension in her back that must be discs reforming.  He
muttered under his breath.

“Lean back,
brother... there.”  Then his palms under ass and she almost flinched.  “Woman,
do not move!”  Gabriel lifted her and Leo tightened his arms, causing her back
to arch.

“Carefully,
carefully...”  Fingers through her midsection again and she wanted to sob in
frustration – the day had been so goddamn long already and now there's
this
.

“Two segments
have been made to become one – clever little mortals, and irritating!  If you
move right now my lady you'll have no feeling at all in your legs and I will
have twice the work cut out for me so do not move.”

Pressure built
in her lower back; she fought Leo's silent efforts to steady her mindlessly,
afraid to breathe even as he sought to impel it.

A quiet click –
and then the entire lower third of her spine popped as it hadn't in nearly a
decade.  Moira bellowed as if stabbed, although the sensation was almost as
much pleasure as pain.  She heard Gabriel chuckle and murmur something in
Operandis; Leo snorted, amused despite himself.

“What the hell
did he just say?” she gasped.

“I
said
,”
Gabriel answered for him, “'Your woman cries out in my grip.'  An old jest
between brother warriors.”

“Gabriel
always preferred to be a lover, rather than a fighter,” mused Leo.

“And you
Ithuriel were just the opposite.”

“Can I move
now?” Moira demanded, pushed beyond endurance.

“Of course,”
Gabriel replied in a mild tone, stepping back onto the sand.  Moira shut her
legs and turned in Leo's surprised embrace to cling to him and let the tears
fall.  He held her a long while and petted her gently; Gabriel swept the
discarded but clean surgical parts into a little self-conscious pile on the
rock with his fingers.

“My love, all
is well... do you realize I have not taken any pain from you for several
minutes now?”

“All is done,
and you are healed,” Gabriel agreed with him encouragingly.  “All save the
cosmetic work – repairing your skin.”

“My scars?”
she said, moving her leg away from his reaching hand.  “No, leave them.”

Gabriel drew
back slightly, nonplussed.

“As you say,
my lady, but why?”