Prologue
"Let me get this straight. Your dad is Gabriel? As in,
the Gabriel mentioned in the Bible?"
"Yep."
"And he and I were once the equivalent of best friends?"
"Yep."
"Holy crap."
Clara Kate stifled a laugh as she watched Ini–herit
process this news. His gray eyes were wider than she'd ever
seen them. The only sound was of the rain pelting the roof
of the large tree house located in the backyard of their
human guardian, Mrs. Clara Burke. Despite the fact that they
were eighteen and the tree house was meant for younger kids,
it was a place they visited whenever they wanted some time
away from everything else. They'd even camped in it a few times.
Now, they sat against one wall with their legs sprawled
in front of them and their hands joined. He studied her for
a moment. When she just quirked an eyebrow, he let out a
long breath.
"Wow."
Her lips curved upwards. "You believe me."
He continued to look at her without responding. She knew
his features as well as her own after these past few months
with him on the human plane, but that didn't make her less
interested in gazing at them. His aristocratic nose,
long–lashed eyes and full lips would have made him
what others called a "pretty boy" if not for the rough,
honed edges of his cheekbones and jaw line. He wore his dark
hair longer than Mrs. B would have liked, but he usually
pulled it back into a ponytail out of deference to her. At
the moment, he had it unbound and it brushed his shoulders
in beautiful waves.
"I do believe you," he said at last. "Though heaven knows
why."
"Well, you're the Corgloresti elder. It's a class founded
on faith. Even though your Estilorian memories and abilities
have been suppressed while you re–learn human
emotions, you retained your core characteristics."
"So when I call you Angel, it's not so much a nickname as
a fact."
Shaking her head, she nudged him with her elbow. "I told
you we're Estilorians, not angels."
"What if I want to be an angel?"
"Oh, you're no angel," she said. He grinned wickedly,
making her heart work overtime. "Angels are just one of the
mythical creatures humans created based on their memories of
Estilorians. When we separated the planes a couple of
thousand years ago, humans documented their experiences with
us in a variety of ways. Art, literature, music...you name
it. In essence, we became human myths and legends."
"Being a legend doesn't sound so bad." He paused, looking
thoughtful. Then he asked, "And I'm how old?"
"Well, you were around before the separation of the planes."
"Get out."
"It's true," she said, laughing at his expression. "On
the Estilorian plane, you'll look about the same age you are
now, though. Maybe a few years older. Estilorians don't age,
and many of the elders are the youngest in appearance."
"You said I'll look different when we transition. How
different?"
She was pleased by his apparent acceptance of what she'd
shared with him. They had been discussing this for hours,
ever since she received word that they had to return to the
Estilorian plane. She knew she wouldn't be commanded back
unless something big had happened. Maybe her mother had gone
into premature labor or something. Whatever the reason, she
couldn't refuse the command.
"I don't know," she responded. "We don't have photographs
on the Estilorian plane, and you left before I was born.
I've never seen your Estilorian form."
"Well that kinda sucks."
"Why? Do you think you'll end up looking like Brent?" She
batted her eyelashes at him.
He shoved her shoulder. "Ha. You can have that blond
Viking with the IQ of a sock puppet. Who needs enough
muscles to lift a car, anyway?"
"Yeah." She sighed dramatically. "Who needs ‘em?"
He rolled his eyes and swung an arm over her shoulders.
She felt the taut muscles there and knew he didn't really
have a complex about Brent's steroid–induced physique.
It was Brent's unwanted attention toward Clara Kate that had
brought her and Ini–herit closer together, so he was a
frequent butt of their jokes.
"But you'll look the same?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. She'd already discussed this, but didn't
mind reviewing it if it helped ease his worry. "I've been
able to transition between the planes without changing forms
since I was three. I'm the only Estilorian who can,
actually. No one knows why."
She didn't bother describing the uproar she'd caused the
first time she did it. She barely remembered the experience.
One moment she'd been sleeping in her bed at home. The next
she was in a hospital on the human plane answering a million
questions from the humans who found her. As a result of her
impromptu transition, the protections around her homeland
had been strengthened considerably.
"You'll look similar to how you do as a human," she
explained. "Archigos Zayna, the Scultresti elder, did her
best to mimic your Estilorian features in your human form to
make the transition less psychologically stressful on you.
Your eyes will be more silver than gray, and you'll have a
bunch of silver markings on your body from past pairings
with Gloresti. And I think your hair will be longer, based
on what I've heard."
"Based on what you've heard?" he repeated. He reached
over and traced the line of her jaw, causing her to shiver.
"You were curious about me before you ever came here,
weren't you?"
"Yes," she said breathlessly. His touch always did this
to her. "I couldn't wait to meet you."
"And now that you have?"
"You're everything I ever dreamed of and more. You know
that by now. I love you, Harry."
He leaned down and kissed her. It was every bit as potent
as the first time. She reached up with her left hand and
wove her fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his
neck. Her tongue pressed eagerly against his as he deepened
the kiss. Bliss such as she had never envisioned coursed
through her.
Eventually, he pulled away from her. They both had to
catch their breath. His eyes were dark with passion.
"I love you, too, Angel."
Her heart soared. This wasn't the first time he'd said
it, but it never got old. She caressed the side of his face,
enjoying the feel of stubble beneath her sensitive fingertips.
"What will we tell Mrs. B?" he asked.
She sighed. "We'll have to tell her some form of the
truth. She won't see you again...at least, not in this form.
She went through this nineteen years ago with my parents.
She'll understand."
"I'm worried about her," he confessed.
"I know," she said. "Me, too."
They'd both observed how tired their guardian seemed
lately. She had told them that she was retiring once they
left for college in the fall. She'd been a foster parent for
nearly forty years, ever since her beloved husband, Henry,
was killed in the line of duty when she was
twenty–eight. She'd been unable to have her own
children, so she decided to raise those kids who needed a
good home. But the time had come, she said, to hang up her hat.
"She's been going to the doctor more frequently," he
said, running his fingers through her hair. "She won't tell
me what they say."
"We'll get some answers after we transition," she
promised. "We have contacts in the human medical field. My
friend, Quincy, will probably be coming back here soon to
harvest more souls. He usually transitions after the
Kynzesti are born. I'll ask him to look into it."
"Okay."
They sat in silence for a moment. Clara Kate rested her
head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "We have to
leave soon," she said eventually. "Within a day or two."
"That soon?"
She nodded. "There's something going on. They wouldn't
tell me what, but we're both needed right away."
"Wow."
"Yeah." Lifting her head, she looked again at his lips,
then caught his gaze. "Harry, when we transition...things
might be different. We'll both have responsibilities, and
I'll have my family around me every moment of the day. And,
well...I've decided that I want our last bit of time here on
this plane to be memorable."
He lifted a dark brow. "Memorable?"
"Yeah." She shifted and ran one hand slowly up his chest,
following the lines of his well–toned midsection
through his T–shirt. When he drew in a sharp breath,
she smiled. "Memorable."
Before he could say anything else, she rose up and turned
to face him, straddling his thighs. Then she kissed him,
long and deep. His hands soon began to roam, causing
unbelievable flares of pleasure.
What she wanted was reckless. Foolish. Unlike anything
she would normally do.
But she wouldn't be swayed.
"I don't—" he managed to say as she pulled away
from his mouth and ran the tip of her tongue along his
sensitive ear lobe. "I'm not prepared for—" he stopped
again when she bit down lightly on his neck. Then she
reached under his shirt, producing a tormented groan. "My
wallet's—in the house."
"Do you want this?" she asked, pulling back so she could
catch his gaze.
"Dear Lord, yes."
"So do I. This feels right, Harry. I haven't ever, you
know, menstruated." She blushed after that confession, but
purposefully ignored it. "I can't get preg—"
He reached up and gently touched her lips. "Thank you. I
promise you, Angel...no matter what occurs when we
transition to the other plane, I'll never forget this
moment. You're everything to me. Whatever happens, we'll
always have each other."