Sword's Blessing (5 page)

“Not what you expected?” Eli asked as the woman shrieked and fell to her knees opposite Samantha.

“Don’t knock it,” Samantha stood, studying the Angel’s newly mortal soul. “It worked, right?”

Still, he was right. She had released Damned souls of their debt, but never actively reverted anyone back to being a mortal. It was almost like the soul had automatically gone back to base form, like he’d been recycled. “Uh oh.”

“What?”

Samantha grimaced, watching the woman’s shaking hands over the man’s face. “I think I reincarnated him. And I have no idea what that means.”

3

“Armand, Armand.” Giselle stroked his face. Her mind was in a whirl. He’d refused to let her come to harm again, telling her to run. How could she? She could not leave him again! She knew she defied orders the moment she attacked Cyrene. They had no business trying to take down a greater Damned. She reached up, wiped her face of tears. Cyrene might as well have had her claws wrapped around Giselle’s heart as Armand’s throat, and when she’d made her move. Giselle shook her head, kissing Armand’s cheek. He wasn’t dead, he was lying here, breathing and warm!

“Honey, we’ve got to move,” Samantha said softly. “I can keep this glamor up till the cows come home, but someone will have noticed that throw down.”

“I...” Giselle took a deep breath and finally snapped to attention. Armand was fine, he just had to sleep it off. It was time to get back on the horse. She stood and sheathed her sword, wiping her eyes and shaking out her wings. Focus. “You’re absolutely right. We’ll get out of your hair.”

“It would be better if you came along. Samantha wants to be certain your partner–”

“Armand,” Giselle filled in.

“Armand, then. Anyway, Samantha did some pretty acrobatic stuff there. If she’s going to keep track of him, he needs to come along.”

Giselle sucked in a lip, narrowing her eyes at them. Would she have to fight them too? She wasn’t sure. Reliably she could only handle Damned of twenty five thousand souls or less. According to reports, Eli had something like thirty five or forty thousand nowadays, and Samantha could take on a damned of fifty thousand souls if Cyrene was any indication. “I’m not leaving him.”

“That’s fine,” Samantha said with a wave. “The car seats four anyway.”

Giselle choked on the answer. “I can’t come with you,” she sputtered.

“Why not?” Samantha asked, glancing over at her. “We’ve got to move, Armand is hurt, you’re tired, and we aren’t about to try anything funny.” She paused. “What’s your name, anyway?”

She looked to the side, reluctant. Given their files Samantha was telling the truth, but going with them would be a betrayal of her duty. She was expected to report back. She was expected to leave him in whatever hands he’d landed. He was no longer an Angel, there was no sense in protecting him beyond the scope of mortal protection. Giselle looked over at Armand and swallowed. He looked younger than he had as an Angel. She remembered his smile in the coffee shop as she’d teased him about reading, the way he’d held her when they met after years apart.

“Giselle. It’s Giselle.”

“So, Giselle, if you have to report or something, go on. We aren’t going to hurt him. You’re also welcome to come along.” Samantha shrugged and spread her hands. “Up to you.”

She took a breath. This was what had gotten them separated in the first place, but she understood Armand’s actions more than ever, now. “I’m not leaving him. Let’s go.”

“Doo dah, doo dah…” Eli hummed the tune to Camptown Races, and slung Armand over his shoulder again. Giselle stayed close, stomach knotted. She knew it was the right choice but the cost terrified her.

* * * *

Eli hardly spoke as they walked back to the hotel and in to the covered garage. “Traffic’s going to be beastly,” he muttered.

Samantha tossed him a set of keys. Giselle frowned. Of all things, a Subaru? “Where’d you get this car?” she asked.

Samantha opened the back and set the seats down, letting Eli lay Armand flat as she faintly smiled at him. “Hijacked it the night I ascended.” She chuckled. “It’s a long story, and now it’s our lucky charm. The thing runs like a horse.”

“From one end of the United States and Canada to the other,” Eli added as he arranged Armand. “I can move us a few states at a time, and the car doesn’t skip a beat.”

“I didn’t know the Damned could do teleportation,” Giselle said cautiously, sliding into the back seat next to Armand. He was sleeping peacefully—his normally spiky hair going every which way, flopping into his eyes. She brushed it away.

“Most can’t.” Eli hummed. “I’m not a Damned any more, though.”

“Your files say you are,” Giselle pointed out, frowning.

“No,
your
files say that,” Eli slid into the driver’s seat. Giselle blinked as she realized his horns went straight through the roof. “And frankly, to send you two when they must have known how badly Cyrene wants us, I wonder if she was right and they
were
trying to kill you.”

Giselle gasped. “They wouldn’t do–”

“Eli, no antagonizing the Angels,” Samantha said, patting his forearm. “Drive.”

“Yes madam,” Eli replied with a low chuckle, and turned the key.

* * * *

Armand slept. Giselle watched him closely, stroking his hair. “His wings are gone,” she ventured after a few hours. “Did you put a glamor on him?”

“No,” Samantha responded after a long pause.

Giselle looked forward, taking note of the highway they drove on, no longer in the desert, surrounded by lush, almost pervasive greenery on both sides. She swallowed the lump of fear in her throat. “Where are we?”

“South-east United States.” Eli craned his head at a sign. “Middle of Mississippi looks like.”

“But... but how?” Giselle whispered. “We couldn’t figure out how you jumped from Canada to Nevada either.”

“I’ve only got thirty-five thousand souls, but they’re thirty-five thousand
willing
souls.” Eli said, nodding to Samantha. “She figured it out. When you’ve got allies rather than prisoners you’re an awful lot better off.”

Giselle drew a breath. “The souls you’ve reaped are allies? That’s... blasphemy!”

“Not really.” Samantha shrugged. “They’re here of their free will. We keep them safe, allow them to interact within our own souls, talk to them once in a while, it works out.”

Giselle covered her mouth, feeling ill and looking at Armand again. What would he say? Probably that it made sense, and as long as everyone was happy with the arrangement, there was nothing they could, or should do. Her heart rebelled. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be! Souls of the passed were meant to go to heaven, hell, or reincarnation. Weren’t they? She held her tongue just long enough to let the indignation pass.

“What if they aren’t willing?” she asked. “Aren’t there some in you that hate you? That you harvested wrongly?”

Eli glanced at Samantha. “Sure there were. Most of Samantha’s souls were harvested by a Damned named Diego, and he wasn’t very nice. But they all know how much better they have it. There are some in me, about a thousand, who refuse to help me, but that number was much higher when we started. Samantha talked some of them around, some of them started out eager to help, and many others saw the good we were doing and came over of their own accord.”

Giselle scrutinized him. “We’ve never heard of this.”

“As far as we know, it’s the first time it’s been done.”

There was a long pause as Giselle studied him, looking for deceit, or lies, or souls begging for release. But the longer she looked, the more she, shockingly, believed him. Samantha was the one to break the silence. “I’m not sure what Armand’s going to be like when he wakes up,” Samantha said, facing ahead into the lush green. “He’ll definitely wake, but I’ve never done such a thing on an Angel before.”

“You’ve done it before at all?” Giselle pressed. “What was it like then?”

“A few mortals caught in the crossfire,” Samantha murmured, “as far as I know they didn’t even remember Cyrene holding them hostage.”

Giselle swallowed. “He might not remember the fight?” Maybe that was a good thing, maybe not. All in all she didn’t think it mattered so long as she had Armand back.

Samantha took a breath. “I have no idea. Angels aren’t anything like the Damned and I have a hell of a lot more experience with them. Your souls are rigid but incredibly powerful. You’re young, right? And you stood up to Cyrene for a whole minute. Granted she was toying with you, but you still survived.” Samantha shook her head.

Giselle caught her breath. Wasn’t Samantha only twenty five, maybe twenty six? How dare she talk to an Angel as if Giselle were the age her skin suggested? According to reports, she was older than Eli. “If you’re such an expert on the Damned, why get caught by Cyrene again?” she snapped.

Samantha turned around and frowned at her. “Whoever ordered you to follow us was an idiot. Or trying to get one or both of you killed. Or they didn’t give a shit, they just wanted to see what would happen, whether we’d leave you for dead, or if Cyrene would eat you. Either way, Eli’s right, you weren’t sent with good intentions. Not only were you clearly not able to track us very well, you couldn’t stand up to Cyrene when
she
came along.” Samantha reached back, brushing Armand’s cheek. “But Cyrene is cruel, and I’ve been on the receiving end of her cruelty far too often to just let another bear the brunt of it.”

Giselle gulped for air through her rage and indignation. How dare they imply the Fore had wanted this to happen, had sent them in with the
intention
of this happening. “You’re wrong,” she spat out. “It was our fault. We shouldn’t have followed you as closely as we did, and we should have taken better precautions.”

Samantha turned. “If you say so. Eli, pull over at this rest stop so Armand can wake up comfortably.”

“And not in a moving car driven by a Damned and an Inbetweener,” Eli confirmed cheerfully. “Great idea, babe.”

Thankfully no one but a few crows and a squirrel was at the small stop. Eli laid Armand on one of the worn picnic tables. Samantha examined him for a moment, as Giselle tried her best not to hover. She tried not to glare at the Inbetweener woman, how could she not? There was no way her Fore would betray them like that. Sure, he’d never agreed with Gabriel’s decision to ascend them as a pair or showed much care for Armand but still trained them, practically raised them.

Still, the possibility irked at her. If the Fore had truly sent them on this mission as a way to kill of one of them, they’d done it to get rid of Armand. There was no questioning that–it would always be Armand! She’d never lost her head enough to wade into a losing battle. She was lucky to be alive, lucky Samantha and Eli had interfered, lucky they had cared enough to get Armand back for her.

She shook her head and reached up to push back her hair. “Armand, you idiot,” she whispered, swallowing. “Letting her get a hold of you.”

Armand took a deep breath and turned his head, an arm slowly stretching up and back. Giselle jumped up, spreading her wings to shield his face from the sun. “Armand! Please wake up. Armand, please?”

“M’wake,” he muttered, free arm rubbing at his eyes. Slowly his eyes opened, bright as ever, and Giselle held her breath as she watched him, wondering. What could she say?
Thank you! How could you? Idiot!

Armand frowned, blinking, rubbing his eyes again, and then opening his mouth.

No. She could berate him later. “Do you need something?” she asked softly.

He narrowed his eyes, half-sitting up and staring at her as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. Finally, he managed, “I’m fine…Ada?”

He could have driven a stake through her heart and hurt her less. Giselle drew a breath, shivering, and felt her knees buckle, forcing her to sit down on the bench. “Armand?” she asked softly. “Armand, do you feel all right?”

“I feel okay. But it’s Manas, remember?” He sat up. “Hey, where are we, anyway? Is there a bathroom around?”

“Over there,” she held out a shaking finger. “…Manas.”

“You okay?” he asked, leaning down. She swallowed, unable to look him in the eye, and nodded. “Be right back.”

Giselle watched him go, gulping for air. Ada? Her mortal name? More than fifty years together and he could only remember her mortal name? She shivered in cold and wrapped her arms around herself, trying not to break down and cry. The hollow in her chest wouldn’t let her stay dry eyed. She pressed her hand to her lips, muffling a sob, only praying no one would see her like this.