my attention. I grinned reluctantly. “It’s tempting. I don’t suppose your visions are your fault. It was the Greeks who killed the messenger who arrived with bad news, and I’m Roman, apparently. I’m sure you didn’t mean me any harm.”
Martha smiled back at me. She was a few years older than I was, but one look in her calm gray eyes told me she’d lived through more than I ever had—survived more—and the last of my resentment vanished. “I have a better idea,” I said. “Why don’t the two of us beat up on Michael?”
That coaxed a smile from her. “Now, that’s tempting, but I think he could manage both of us withone hand tied behind his back. I could use a little help with my kicks. I have a tendency to telegraph what I’m going to do next, at least when I spar here. Maybe in the heat of battle the enemy will be too wound up to notice.”
“You can’t count on anything. Let’s get away from here and I’ll show you some moves.”
We joined the others on the beach, away from Michael’s distracting presence. Martha surprised me. She was strong, resilient, and smart, and if she could just get past her habit of looking exactly where she was going to attack next, she’d be in good shape for the coming battle everyone kept talking about. I resisted every temptation to floor her until the very last, and when I had her on her back I laughed. “Sorry, I just couldn’t help it.” I released her and held out a hand, pulling her to her feet again. “Do me a favor, Martha. If you ever have another premonition concerning me, please, please , do not tell anyone. Particularly not me.”
Something flickered in her eyes. “I promise,” she said, her voice slightly hollow.
Everyone was out during the day at regular intervals, everyone except the first woman I’d met, Allie. The one Michael had fed from. Odd, how easily I could think of that without being shocked. Fed from her. I’d accepted it, for some reason.
The women were strong, and what they lacked in power they made up for in speed and inventiveness. They had been well schooled, and they knew theywould be fighting for their lives and the lives of their husbands. I had no idea how many might survive if such a battle ever came to pass, but I knew their enemy would be wise not to underestimate them.
The Armies of Heaven were the enemy, Rachel had said. Surely that was wrong. Heaven was where good people went when they died, a happy place full of old friends and smiling faces. How could heaven have an army?
I showed more of my power with the women than with the stronger men. I had every intention of fooling the fallen angels into believing I was essentially worthless as a fellow warrior, a woman with a few clever moves but not much else. With the women I pushed harder, driving them, forcing them to use their wits and every last bit of their skill, just as a good teacher would do. I didn’t want these women to die, and I wanted to do what little I could to expand their abilities. The angels could fend for themselves.
At one point I felt Michael’s eyes on me, and I knew he stood just inside the open doors to the workout room, in the shadows, so he couldn’t be seen. I didn’t need to look. I already knew what his gaze felt like, a cool wash over my heated skin as I remembered the feel of his mouth against mine. I licked my lips, searching for his taste, but the salt of the ocean superseded it. I’d missed my chance—he was never going to kiss me again.
I immediately stumbled, deliberately, and wentdown in the sand beneath Martha’s triumphant cry. By the time I bounded back to my feet, he was gone.
It was simple enough to move farther and farther away from them as I went through my own moves. I had a well-worn series of exercises I went through, and though I toned them down for anyone who seemed to be watching, I was able to move down the beach, away from the others.
I warmed up, stretched, and ran in place for a little to get my
Martha smiled back at me. She was a few years older than I was, but one look in her calm gray eyes told me she’d lived through more than I ever had—survived more—and the last of my resentment vanished. “I have a better idea,” I said. “Why don’t the two of us beat up on Michael?”
That coaxed a smile from her. “Now, that’s tempting, but I think he could manage both of us withone hand tied behind his back. I could use a little help with my kicks. I have a tendency to telegraph what I’m going to do next, at least when I spar here. Maybe in the heat of battle the enemy will be too wound up to notice.”
“You can’t count on anything. Let’s get away from here and I’ll show you some moves.”
We joined the others on the beach, away from Michael’s distracting presence. Martha surprised me. She was strong, resilient, and smart, and if she could just get past her habit of looking exactly where she was going to attack next, she’d be in good shape for the coming battle everyone kept talking about. I resisted every temptation to floor her until the very last, and when I had her on her back I laughed. “Sorry, I just couldn’t help it.” I released her and held out a hand, pulling her to her feet again. “Do me a favor, Martha. If you ever have another premonition concerning me, please, please , do not tell anyone. Particularly not me.”
Something flickered in her eyes. “I promise,” she said, her voice slightly hollow.
Everyone was out during the day at regular intervals, everyone except the first woman I’d met, Allie. The one Michael had fed from. Odd, how easily I could think of that without being shocked. Fed from her. I’d accepted it, for some reason.
The women were strong, and what they lacked in power they made up for in speed and inventiveness. They had been well schooled, and they knew theywould be fighting for their lives and the lives of their husbands. I had no idea how many might survive if such a battle ever came to pass, but I knew their enemy would be wise not to underestimate them.
The Armies of Heaven were the enemy, Rachel had said. Surely that was wrong. Heaven was where good people went when they died, a happy place full of old friends and smiling faces. How could heaven have an army?
I showed more of my power with the women than with the stronger men. I had every intention of fooling the fallen angels into believing I was essentially worthless as a fellow warrior, a woman with a few clever moves but not much else. With the women I pushed harder, driving them, forcing them to use their wits and every last bit of their skill, just as a good teacher would do. I didn’t want these women to die, and I wanted to do what little I could to expand their abilities. The angels could fend for themselves.
At one point I felt Michael’s eyes on me, and I knew he stood just inside the open doors to the workout room, in the shadows, so he couldn’t be seen. I didn’t need to look. I already knew what his gaze felt like, a cool wash over my heated skin as I remembered the feel of his mouth against mine. I licked my lips, searching for his taste, but the salt of the ocean superseded it. I’d missed my chance—he was never going to kiss me again.
I immediately stumbled, deliberately, and wentdown in the sand beneath Martha’s triumphant cry. By the time I bounded back to my feet, he was gone.
It was simple enough to move farther and farther away from them as I went through my own moves. I had a well-worn series of exercises I went through, and though I toned them down for anyone who seemed to be watching, I was able to move down the beach, away from the others.
I warmed up, stretched, and ran in place for a little to get my
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