gift of teleportation. “Yes, well,” Anahita said in what she hoped was a light, lilting voice that did not betray the urgency she felt to meet with her leader. She placed her hand on the doorknob of her quarters. “I will see you later then,” she said lamely.
Jayden cocked one eyebrow but nodded. “Yes, later.” The sound of a door opening brought both of their attention to Jayden’s quarters. Grace stuck her head out into the hall, her riot of red hair catching the light in the hallway and appearing flame-like around her head. A rumbling sound came from the general region of Jayden’s chest.
“Much later,” he said over his shoulder to Anahita, already walking away from her and toward his Temptation. He never looked back as he playfully pushed the now grinning Grace back into their residence, following her in and closing the door behind them with a resounding boom.
Anahita stared at their closed door for a few heartbeats, an unknown longing weighing in her heart. Then, with a shaky intake of breath, she turned the doorknob and entered the dim interior of her quarters.
Chapter Eight
It took Anahita’s eyes no time to adjust to what appeared to be a tiny apartment, with a shadowed, winged form standing in the midst of a smattering of living room furniture.
“You are late.” The indictment was delivered in a deep, rumbling voice, but it was delivered emotionlessly. As was to be expected, of course.
Anahita, however, found it impossible to be emotionless at the casually delivered phrase. She felt a wave of what had to be annoyance. It prickled up her spine and bit at her mercilessly. The words, “I did not know we had an appointment,” left her mouth before she’d knew they were forming.
As Remiel stepped forward into a shaft of light from the nearby window, she could see that he’d raised one eyebrow, and a sick feeling collected in the back of her throat. Had she just spoken to her superior—the angel who would determine if she would join the Warriors or not—in that disrespectful tone?
“Apologies, brother,” Anahita murmured, making sure to keep the sick feeling from tinging her tone. “I am feeling the pressure of the Compulsion. It is ... taxing.” Truth—it had to be. However, it was not the whole truth, and she hoped Remiel would not pick up on that.
“Your Compulsion,” Remiel said, nodding slowly. “Yes, that is why I am here.”
Oh, heaven. This was going to be bad.
Remiel lowered himself into a nearby armchair and then gestured for Anahita to take the couch opposite him.
He was offering her a seat in her own home? Or ordering her to take it—again, in her own home? That Anahita was so proprietary over a space she had just been given was not rational. She could not, however, keep those feelings at bay, and resentment that he would do such a thing moments after she’d been given this boon burned hot in her chest.
And, yet, she walked to the couch and settled into the supple cushions.
She expected him to speak right away, but he stared at her, his blue eyes so cold and lacking calculation that Anahita found herself squirming in her seat. How could he be so calm and so intimidating at the same time?
“I have not set my Compulsion,” Anahita blurted into the silence.
Remiel dipped his chin. “This I know.”
Silence again. Was it warm in here? Anahita would swear that it was sweltering. “I, uh ... I need some time to organize my ... thoughts first.” The words were a chore, each one requiring careful planning.
Remiel tilted his head to the side. “This does not have anything to do with your Temptation.”
The words were not spoken as a question, and Anahita knew that was by design. It was quite brilliant, actually, she had to admit. By stating it as though it were a fact, Remiel had made Anahita feel shame at the simple truth that the statement was
not
fact. Thus, she felt an overwhelming desire to reassure Remiel. To explain everything to him. She tamped down that
Jayden cocked one eyebrow but nodded. “Yes, later.” The sound of a door opening brought both of their attention to Jayden’s quarters. Grace stuck her head out into the hall, her riot of red hair catching the light in the hallway and appearing flame-like around her head. A rumbling sound came from the general region of Jayden’s chest.
“Much later,” he said over his shoulder to Anahita, already walking away from her and toward his Temptation. He never looked back as he playfully pushed the now grinning Grace back into their residence, following her in and closing the door behind them with a resounding boom.
Anahita stared at their closed door for a few heartbeats, an unknown longing weighing in her heart. Then, with a shaky intake of breath, she turned the doorknob and entered the dim interior of her quarters.
Chapter Eight
It took Anahita’s eyes no time to adjust to what appeared to be a tiny apartment, with a shadowed, winged form standing in the midst of a smattering of living room furniture.
“You are late.” The indictment was delivered in a deep, rumbling voice, but it was delivered emotionlessly. As was to be expected, of course.
Anahita, however, found it impossible to be emotionless at the casually delivered phrase. She felt a wave of what had to be annoyance. It prickled up her spine and bit at her mercilessly. The words, “I did not know we had an appointment,” left her mouth before she’d knew they were forming.
As Remiel stepped forward into a shaft of light from the nearby window, she could see that he’d raised one eyebrow, and a sick feeling collected in the back of her throat. Had she just spoken to her superior—the angel who would determine if she would join the Warriors or not—in that disrespectful tone?
“Apologies, brother,” Anahita murmured, making sure to keep the sick feeling from tinging her tone. “I am feeling the pressure of the Compulsion. It is ... taxing.” Truth—it had to be. However, it was not the whole truth, and she hoped Remiel would not pick up on that.
“Your Compulsion,” Remiel said, nodding slowly. “Yes, that is why I am here.”
Oh, heaven. This was going to be bad.
Remiel lowered himself into a nearby armchair and then gestured for Anahita to take the couch opposite him.
He was offering her a seat in her own home? Or ordering her to take it—again, in her own home? That Anahita was so proprietary over a space she had just been given was not rational. She could not, however, keep those feelings at bay, and resentment that he would do such a thing moments after she’d been given this boon burned hot in her chest.
And, yet, she walked to the couch and settled into the supple cushions.
She expected him to speak right away, but he stared at her, his blue eyes so cold and lacking calculation that Anahita found herself squirming in her seat. How could he be so calm and so intimidating at the same time?
“I have not set my Compulsion,” Anahita blurted into the silence.
Remiel dipped his chin. “This I know.”
Silence again. Was it warm in here? Anahita would swear that it was sweltering. “I, uh ... I need some time to organize my ... thoughts first.” The words were a chore, each one requiring careful planning.
Remiel tilted his head to the side. “This does not have anything to do with your Temptation.”
The words were not spoken as a question, and Anahita knew that was by design. It was quite brilliant, actually, she had to admit. By stating it as though it were a fact, Remiel had made Anahita feel shame at the simple truth that the statement was
not
fact. Thus, she felt an overwhelming desire to reassure Remiel. To explain everything to him. She tamped down that
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