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Angel, Page 84

L. A. Weatherly

Page 84

 

  He kept his arm around her shoulders as they went inside, and she almost fell asleep as he was checking in, slumped wearily against his chest. He wasn’t much more awake himself. On the way to their room, Willow staggered and he picked her up, carrying her down the hallway. Shifting her in his arms, he managed to unlock the door and get them both inside, leaning to shut it behind him. He turned on the lights with his shoulder.

  Lying Willow down on the bed, Alex stretched out beside her. She cuddled against him, and he drew her close, shaping his body around hers. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep just yet — the lights were still on; they were both fully dressed — but when he opened his eyes again, it felt like several hours had passed. Rousing himself, he gently undid Willow’s hair, taking the pins out and uncoiling it so that it fell freely around her shoulders. She blinked drowsily, only half waking. He helped her off with her shoes and sweater, her jeans. Stripping off his own jeans and T-shirt, he turned the lights out and got them both under the covers.

  Willow nestled against him. He smoothed her long hair down the back of her T-shirt, feeling its softness. In a few moments she fell asleep again, her breathing warm and regular against his chest. Alex kissed her head, his arms tightening around her. As he drifted back to sleep himself, he saw a brief flash of the thousands of angels streaming in, but right then it seemed distant, almost unimportant. The only thing that mattered was that he was lying in a bed holding Willow, their bare legs entwined.

  It was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

  I woke up in a soft bed, hearing Alex’s voice. I opened my eyes slowly. We were in a motel room, shadowy with the curtains drawn, and he was sitting on the edge of the bed talking to someone on the phone. I lay gazing at the firm lines of his back, feeling a joy so deep that there were no words for it. It hadn’t been a dream; he had really come. We were really together again.

  He hung up and slid back under the covers, his arms wrapping around me, drawing me close. “You’re awake,” he murmured, kissing my temple.

  I nodded and snuggled tightly against him. “Who was that?” I whispered against his shoulder.

  “I got the room for another night,” he said, rubbing my arm. His head was on the pillow, his eyes closed. “I don’t even want to move today; I just want to lie here and hold you. ”

  We both nodded off again. When we woke up, it was midafternoon and the sunshine angling in around the curtains was bright and strong.

  For a long time, we just lay in bed talking, describing what had happened since we’d been apart. Alex’s expression hardened when I told him about Sophie leaving. “OK, so she’s in a safe location now, and she just left you there. Got it”

  I sighed. “I understand, I guess . . . it just made me realize how much they really expected me to die. ” And Nate had died. I remembered Raziel’s sneering reference to “the traitor” and felt a pang for the angel who’d believed so strongly that his kind didn’t have the right to destroy humanity.

  I played with the edge of the sheet, looking down. “Alex, I can’t believe that Raziel is my . . . ” I stopped; I couldn’t say the word.

  “Only biologically,” he said. “Willow, he’s got nothing to do with you. He never did; it doesn’t matter who he is. ”

  The sheet was as white as an angel’s wings. I let go of it. “I know you’re right. It’s just strange, now that I’ve seen him with my own eyes. And to realize that he knows who I am, too. I really wish he didn’t. ”

  “Yeah,” said Alex curtly. “And I wish I hadn’t missed his halo. ”

  I couldn’t actually wish for Raziel’s death, no matter how much I hated him — but I wouldn’t have been heartbroken if Alex had succeeded. I sat up against my pillows, hugging my knees as I remembered the thousands of angels I’d seen above his head when I first opened my eyes.

  “I — I wonder what went wrong,” I said. “Whether it’s that the angelica would never have worked after all, or if I just got to the gate too late once Beth started screaming?”

  “I don’t know,” said Alex. There was a long pause as he glided his hand up and down my arm. Finally he said, “Pretty soon, I know that I’m really going to hate the fact that there are more angels in the world . . . but right now, all I feel is so incredibly glad that you’re still alive. ”

  I gave a small nod. “I know. I wish I’d been able to stop it, but I can’t be sorry to be alive — and to be with you. ” I studied his blue-gray eyes, so startling under their black lashes. “Alex, that’s all I ever want — just to be with you. ”

  He fingered a strand of my hair. “Don’t worry; you will be,” he said softly. Our gazes met, and my heart went tight at the look on his face. Though we were barely touching, it somehow felt deeper than any kiss we’d ever shared.

  When Alex described how he’d gotten to Denver and what had happened at the cathedral, he kept it short, his tone almost terse — but I got the idea.

  “Oh, Alex . . . ” I touched his cheek, unable to say anything else. The thought of him holding me, believing I was dead . . .

  Letting out a breath, he reached up and squeezed my hand, his eyes never leaving mine. “All that matters is that you’re alive,” he said. “I’d go through it a hundred times again to have you. ”

  A faint, dreamlike memory came back. I shook my head in wonder. “I remember it. . . . I could feel myself going, sort of drifting down a long hallway. And then you were there, bringing me back. It was like you were pulling on me, tugging me . . . ”

  Wordlessly, Alex kissed my palm.

  I stared at him, remembering the incredulous joy that had flooded through me when I first opened my eyes and saw him. “I thought I’d never see you again,” I whispered.

  He traced a finger down my face as if he was memorizing it. “Five minutes after you left, I was in the truck,” he said roughly. “I knew I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. Everything I said, the way I acted . . . letting you go alone —” His jaw tensed. “Can you forgive me?”

  I felt tears come to my eyes. “Alex, you don’t even have to ask me that. ”

  “Yes, I do,” he said. “I should be down on my knees, asking. ”

  “No! I know what you were going through. . . . ” His eyes stayed on mine, unwavering. My throat constricted. “Of course I forgive you. Don’t even mention it again. ”

  Closing his eyes with a sigh, he drew me into his arms. “From the second you left, all I could I think of was getting to Denver in time, so I could be there with you, holding you. . . . Willow, if you had died, I wouldn’t have wanted to live, either. ”

  “I know,” I murmured against his shoulder. “I feel the same way. Flying away from you was . . . awful, so awful. Alex, I’m sorry, too, but I had to do it. I had to at least try —”

  He pulled away. “Don’t apologize! Of course you had to try. I knew that; I just couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to you. And then when I got to the church and thought I was too late. . . . ” He fell silent. I could feel his tension; it was coming off him in great waves. Finally he swallowed and said, “I thought — I thought you were going to die, and that it would be like Jake. ”