Page 18 of Far From Center
Chapter 8
Gabriel wasthankful for the silence as they walked back to the hotel. The dancing had cast a sort of spell over him and he felt content, at peace. Was that what Nyalla had meant when she’d said sensory experiences were often a human’s path to grace?
This whole nightmare of being human…perhaps it was serving a much-needed purpose. He now saw them in a different light. The music, the dancing, the cool night breeze, the moonlight glistening off the water, the feel of his feet sinking into the sand, of the warm water surging in to cover his toes, then sliding back out again — it was downright meditative. He hadn’t felt this way since before the rebellion began in Aaru. It was wonderful. And so was Nyalla’s arm brushing against his. He reached out and took her hand, feeling the need to touch her, to have a connection with another human who was experiencing the same balanced, centered, one-with-the-creator feeling.
In front of the hotel she tugged him over to a chickie surrounding a short coconut tree and let go of his hand to plop down in one of the chairs. He sat beside her and they both stared out at the ebb and flow of the ocean.
It reminded him of Aaru. It reminded him of his uncertain future, of the uncertain future all the angels faced. They were locked out of Aaru, possibly forever. He’d never see his homeland again. And there was a chance that he’d be trapped as a human, without wings or grace, forever. Actually, not forever. If the spell didn’t wear off, he’d live out a normal human life. He’d age, get sick, have to deal with an increasingly feeble body, and in forty or fifty years, he’d die. A mighty archangel, banished from his homeland, dead in a blink of an eye after spending the last decades of his life in this fragile form. The peace he’d been feeling vanished, and Gabriel found himself on the edge of panic.
“Are you okay? Gabriel?”
He felt her touch, grounding him and pulling him from the edge. Closing his eyes, he tried to steady his breathing, concentrating on Nyalla’s hand on his arm. “You don’t need to call me Gabriel. Just call me Gabe.”
The suffix seemed silly at this point. ‘El’ was a title given to the most powerful angels. He may have earned the title long ago, but it just didn’t apply when he was a human. Even so, Nyalla should be granted permission to address him informally just as his siblings did. She’d seen him at his worst, was helping him navigate this human world, was keeping his secret. In his eyes, she was just as much a part of his family as his brothers and sister.
More. Because as much as he loved his siblings, had loved them for the four billion years of his life, what he felt for Nyalla was strangely different — more intense, more sensory, more human. More.
She didn’t respond to his request, so he opened his eyes and looked over at her. Her mouth had twisted, like she was clenching it to keep it still. Her eyes were shiny with wetness and sorrow. She knew. She knew every emotion he was battling, every bit of fear and grief that was racing through his very human body. Then suddenly her chin lifted, a smile trembling on her lips.
“Can I call you G-man instead?” she teased.
She was trying to bring some lightness, some cheer back to the situation. And improbably it worked.
He quirked one of his eyebrows up. “No, you most definitelycannotcall me G-man.”
She grinned. “But you need a nickname. Sam has several for you. Maybe I’ll use one of those.”
“By all that’s holy, don’t. I’m sure the Iblis has all sorts of slanderous and vulgar descriptors for me, but there is no need to sully your lips with them. Please, Gabe will be fine.”
And it would be. He was an ancient and powerful archangel, emphasis onwas, but it felt right for her to have the privilege of calling him by a name that no one besides his siblings was allowed to.
“Then I’ll call you Gabe.” Her hand slid down his arm and her fingers wrapped around the top of his hand, tightening for a quick squeeze before she let go.
He missed her hand. There was something about physical contact that was incredibly important to him in this form. He’d never realized how much of an emotional connection touch fostered, but now, he wanted her hand on his. He wanted to scoot his chair over so his leg touched hers. He wanted to bend close as he spoke so he could feel her warmth as well as the brush of her soft hair against his face.
This being human was so alien to him. It was hard to sort out the flood of emotions and sensations. As an angel, he was used to processing incredibly complex thought in an instant. He could separate himself into aspects, and be several places at once. He’d always considered humans to be lower, less-evolved life forms, yet they had had challenges he’d never imagined. Every slight change in temperature, each tingle and itch of the millions of nerve endings in the skin, the myriad of scents, of colors, of sounds. It was excruciating to sort through the enormous input and make sense of it all, let alone try to attempt higher level thought at the same time. He hadn’t been human for more than a few hours, and already he was awed at their ability to manage.
But it was far too beautiful a night to ponder paths to enlightenment, not when the ocean beckoned to them.
* * *
“Let’s swim.”
“What?” Nyalla couldn’t have heard Gabe correctly. Did the angel just propose theyswim? He’d been leaning close to her, and she’d thought for a moment that he might actually kiss her, but instead he wanted to swim?
“I love the water. Whenever I’m here from Aaru, I spend most of my time in the ocean or a lake or river.”
Nyalla turned to look at him. “Water is my favorite thing too. When I was a slave to the elves in Hel, I’d sneak out to swim in the creeks and lakes, but I’d never seen anything like the ocean until I came here. It was love at first sight. Every chance I get I head to the beach to surf, or kayak, or swim, or snorkel, or scuba dive. In the summer, I probably spend more time in Sam’s pool than on dry land.”
He turned surprised blue-gray eyes to her. “You were a slave to the elves in Hel? You fell through one of the elven traps? How long were you there?”
“I was a changeling, stolen from my crib. Only instead of being replaced with a dead elven baby, in my place they put Amber. She’s a half elf/half succubus, and her mother was trying to hide her to keep her alive. She grew up as Amber Lowrey, and I grew up with the elves. Eighteen years I was there.”
“I’m sorry.” His voice was low and husky. “We never thought the elves would be capable of this. There are so many humans that we never suspected. And, of course, no one enlightened us to the fact that the elves were enslaving humans.” He shook his head. “Not that we would have believed it had word of these doings reached us. We thought the elves could do no wrong. Our blindness led to so much human suffering.”
She stood. “It’s time for you angels to learn that you’re not personally responsible for every little thing that happens to the human race. And, quite honestly, we’d do just fine if you were to butt out and let us forge our own way into the future. I don’t want to talk any more about my life with the elves. I want to play in the water. Let’s swim.”
He got to his feet and looked down at her. He was so close. It made Nyalla realize how tall and broad-shouldered he was. She put a hand on his chest just to feel his heart beat and remembered how it felt to rest her cheek there as they danced, feeling the soft cotton of his shirt against her, the solid muscle underneath, the thump of his heart. If he were human, she’d probably be naked and sweaty with him right now, but he was an angel. She’d had enough of angels. Nils had always been willing to have sex, participating enthusiastically then afterward bemoaning the sin of it all, making her feel as if she were a horrible temptress. She got the feeling Gabriel would be the same. And she’d swore that never again would she bed a man who blamed everything and everyone but himself for his sexual activity, who made her feel somehow filthy. Never again.
