I ought to have known that Asoharith would not let us be at peace for long.
Yesterday evening Freya went out to dinner with George and Kara. As Kara’s maid of honor, she is very involved in their planning, and she had a few things she wanted to settle with them about the week of the wedding. There will be a bachelorette party, dinner with the families, drinks with friends, and then the ceremony itself. None of it will be very grand—there are fewer than three dozen guests, which is the way they want it. It will be an intimate ceremony with only the people they love most.
They were out fairly late for dinner, so the restaurant was not very crowded. Ophell was on guard, but when a great, noisy argument broke out just outside the door, he went to investigate. Freya, more and more sensitive every day, recognized his absence, and called out to me.
I arrived in time to see one of the managers of the restaurant going out to hurry the fighters along. Rather than slink away, though, one of them struck the manager across the face.
“Jesus,” Kara said. “People are crazy.”
I put a wing around Freya—she was tense with anxiety, made wary by any break from the norm. “Brother?” I called to Ophell.
He returned, his Eye glowing with anger. “Violences—several of them,” he said. “Ananiah is coming. Stay with your charge.” He left again, summoning his weapon to his hand.
Freya felt my concern and got to her feet, reaching for her purse. “Fascinating as this is,” she said, rolling her eyes at her friends, “I’m going to run to the ladies.”
“And miss all the fun?” George quipped.
“Coward,” Kara teased.
Freya didn’t laugh. She marched back to the bathroom, and I followed, though I was reluctant to leave the others alone.
In the bathroom, which thankfully was only one room with a door she could lock, Freya dug in her purse for pencil and paper. “Is this some problem that you have to deal with?” She wrote YES and NO quickly on the page, then set the pencil down between them.
I felt her heart quicken as I moved the pencil to YES. “Should we leave?” she asked.
Since the fighters were blocking the door, I moved the answer to NO.
“You want me to just sit here and pretend to chat with my friends while a group of demons is causing a fight right outside the door—probably intending to hurt me?” Her voice tightened to a hiss as she spoke.
Helpless to reassure her, I only bent and set my hand on her cheek, washing her with courage.
She exhaled and snatched the pencil and pad. “We need to come up with some signals for emergencies,” she said. “If I live through this, remind me.”
I hated the “if”, but I knew that she was right. If she and I had been better able to communicate in the moment, things might not have gotten quite so out of hand.
Even as Freya unlocked the bathroom door, we heard shouting, a crash, and Kara’s angry cursing. Freya sprinted back into the dining room to find George on the ground by the bar, with two bloodied, drunk men standing over him, and Kara just that moment leaping to her fiancé’s defense. In other circumstances I might have let her handle it, but there were two hulking Violences hanging over the strangers’ shoulders, great dark shadows lending strength to their arms and their anger.
I pressed down hard on Freya’s shoulders, hoping she would get the message to stay put. Then I flew into the fray, catching one of the Violences by the back of the neck. The other cried out—in savage joy, not surprise—and struck at my face.
It devolved from there. I hadn’t the time to draw my weapon as they set on me, and so I fought by hand. They were strong, both of them, and they fought well together, better than any I had faced before. Asoharith’s minions are getting more skilled. It didn’t help that I was distracted by Freya, for while I felt certain that this attack was against me, this was the first time that she was aware of such a thing happening, and she was terrified. She could see only the humans fighting—Kara punching and kicking, while George jumped up from the ground to help despite his freely bleeding nose—but she could feel the battle between me and the Violences. I did my best to keep my fear and pain from her, but our bond has grown so strong that it showed through, especially when a blow caught me particularly close to the heart, and I fell to my knees.
Sensing me falter, Freya closed her eyes and pressed her back hard against the wall. No, she thought, so strongly that I heard the word clear as day in her mind.
And her aura blazed up like an explosion, and both of my opponents staggered. They wailed with sudden fear, and I found myself on my feet, ringing with energy and strength.
I was able to finish things quickly after that. The men who’d come into the restaurant went running out, and the manager quickly locked the door while the bartender brought George a towel for his nose.
As Kara helped clean the blood from George’s face and shirt, she looked across the room and spotted Freya. “Hey, Cobb, you okay?” she called.
I realized then that both Freya and I had been standing stock-still, shocked by what had happened. Freya was still backed against the wall, her eyes squeezed shut, her purse held close in front of her. Her body and her expression showed terror, but I felt only wonder and relief from her.
“Um,” she said, shaking her head and looking up, “yeah, just freaked, I guess.”
“You and me both,” George said, somewhat muffled behind Kara’s ministrations. “Kara, promise Freya you won’t attack her so she can join us.”
Kara growled obscenities under her breath, which I would certainly not consider such a promise. Freya relaxed a bit, however, and went across the room to help with the cleanup.
As she did, Ophell and Ananiah joined me, somewhat worse for wear, but at their ease. I knew then that the enemy was gone, and a great weight lifted from my wings.
“Asoharith is getting stronger,” Ananiah said grimly. “These had some training, and they fought as if they were here on orders. And they came for you, not your charge, which means she is no longer being cautious.”
“I would rather she came for me,” I answered. “Freya is safer that way. In any case, her plan failed tonight. Are either of you hurt?” I saw only small wounds, but I know well that great injury can be invisible to even our eyes.
“Not so badly as you are,” Ophell answered, gesturing to the mark above my heart.
I looked down at it myself. “In truth, it was worse a moment ago,” I said. “But something Freya did—” The pain was less than I would have thought, too. I turned back to my friends. “Could you go and ask our seniors if it is possible for a human to help directly in a battle against the Fallen?”
They were surprised—somehow they hadn’t sensed what Freya had done. To me it was overwhelming, and the Violences certainly felt it. But Ophell agreed to go and ask, while Ananiah insisted on seeing me and Freya back to safety.
And so we waited while Kara confirmed that George’s nose was not broken and while the three said their goodbyes. Both of us trailed Freya back to her house, and only when she was back inside and securely behind the locks—she’s added a new one since learning about me and all that comes with me—did Ananiah leave me alone with her.
Freya knew, too, when we were alone, and she kicked off her nice shoes to take the stairs two at a time. “Are you okay?” she shot over her shoulder.
I couldn’t really answer, but I sent as much reassurance as I could.
“Don’t give me that,” she snapped, bursting into her bedroom and snatching her laptop. “I can feel that you’re hurt. It’s like…” She stopped short, struggling to find words. “I don’t know, like heartburn, when it’s just gone away, but you know it’s going to come back, so not pain, but not right…” Breathing hard, she sank down onto the floor and pressed her face against the mattress. “Oh Go—sh,” she corrected herself midword, and burst into tears.
Since she hadn’t opened the laptop, I merely wrapped her up as tightly as I could and held her as she cried.
She only indulged the tears for a moment. Pushing the laptop open, she demanded again, “Are you all right?”
I looked at the screen. The night before, our conversation had been about my early days as a Cupid. Those stories were so lighthearted and fun—Freya had spent so much of the hour laughing. It wasn’t going to be like that now.
I was wounded, but it is only pain. I will be healed again as soon as I go back to heaven.
She wiped at her eyes and sat up straighter. “Then you should go,” she said. “I’m okay now.”
Are you?
I meant it sincerely, but she read sarcasm in the words. “Please,” she said scornfully, “don’t baby me. I didn’t do a damn thing anyway.”
Is that what you think? Freya, if not for you, I would have come out much the worse.
She stared at those words. “What are you talking about?”
There were two, and they were stronger than the ones that have come before. They had me on my knees. But then you did something, and they were weakened while I was made stronger. It was over quickly after that, and I found that my wounds were already beginning to heal.
Freya shook her head. “You’re shitting me,” she said. “What—I had no idea what I was doing or what was going on. How could I—”
I am not sure. I will ask my seniors. But it does not surprise me. When it comes to it, humans have greater strength than angels.
She shook her head, rubbing her eyes again. Her mascara was badly smeared now. “Now I know you’re shitting me. But it doesn’t matter as long as you’re okay.” She got up, picking up the laptop and putting it on the desk. “Now, you need to go and get checked out. I’m okay, really.”
She went to close the laptop, but I knocked her hand away from it. Surprised, she looked down to see the words I was writing then.
I will go, but you have to understand that you did help me, Freya. Though I don’t quite know how, we won this fight together, and I am grateful for your help.
She read those lines twice. “Okay,” she said slowly. “I believe you, though I don’t have the first idea how that could be true. But if it means that you’re okay, Ace, then…” Her voice wobbled, and she took a breath. “Then I’m really glad.”
I kissed her cheek.
I will come back after I have seen the healer.
“Good,” she said, tugging her hair down. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until you’re back.”
But she did sleep, because I sent Brid to help her relax before I would let my wounds be tended. Still, when I went back to check on her a few hours later, she woke again, only for a moment, then sighed with release and sank into deeper, more restful slumber.
She has grown very attached to me now. Her soul always recognized me, but now her heart feels and her mind is aware of what I am to her. It worries me. I will have to be more careful in the fight if I know that my wounds hurt her, as well.
As for how she was able to help me in the fight—I am not sure what it was, but I certainly mean to find out.