Page 15 of Seraph's Tears
“Marvelous,” she whispered. “Is this sort of thing normal in your world?”
“Yes.” I rotated the amulet so she could get a better look at the image.
“And these are all your men?” Her eyes widened. “Are those…women? Female seraphim? Are they soldiers?”
In many ways our societies were the same—classism, especially. But in some ways we were different. “We have many women in our flights. The custom is for second children, not just second sons.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “If I had that option, that freedom….”
I cleared my throat, admiring the sight of her slender hand so near mine. What was this compulsion to be near her? Why did the ache in my chest grow when she grew near but the rest of me relaxed?
But at the sound Eve jerked her hand away and glanced up guiltily, as if she’d done something wrong. I didn’t like that look on her. My hand spasmed, almost reaching out to wipe the tension from her lips with my thumb. Skies, why did my body want to touch her so badly?
“Pardon,” she muttered. “I shouldn’t pry.” Eve glanced away, and her gaze caught on the map painted on the wall. “Who did that? It’s gorgeous.” She stood and walked to the wall.
I couldn’t help but admire the way her skirt swirled and her hips swayed. She didn’t wear a bonnet, thankfully, and I could appreciate the artistic knot she’d tied her hair in at the nape of her neck. Perhaps that was why I was allowing her such familiarity and endless questions.
“Turail, one of my warriors.” I stood and moved around the chair, tightening my wings up so they wouldn’t trail in the dust. I turned my body away from her so she wouldn’t see the tent in my trousers. “When we realized we needed a home base to rest and plan, rather than hiding in the highlands.” I shuddered. “It was so wet in those caves.”
Her index finger reached out and touched what the humans called the Channel, a body of water separating Anglia from the rest of the continent. “Where have you searched?”
I pointed to Anglia, to the highlands of Alba, Cymru, and Krenow, a peninsula jutting off Anglia just below Cymru. Then Eriu, a green place still full of latent magic. We’d expected to find a crack there, but hadn’t.
Franka, Aleman, Hispania—all along the continent.
“Even here?” Her fingertips traced the northern countries, those filled with ice and snow.
I nodded. “We’ve searched this entire continent and much of the land to the east.” My hand swept downward. “And this continent, Afrik. It is large and the terrain varied so we could have missed something. But we searched as thoroughly as we could.” My warriors had flown across the Savannah several times. Some loved the wide open air above it, for it reminded them of home. The others found the flat land surreal and uncomfortable because we had no such place in our home.
As I drew my hand back up, my fingers brushed hers. A shock went through me, and my heart panged. I sucked in a breath at the unexpectedly strong sensation. Her sweet scent filled my nostrils. Blood pounded in my ears, and images of her naked body twined around me filled my head. I held my breath, wondering how I could avoid this in the future.
Unaware of my shameful lust, her brow furrowed. “But what about over here?” Eve pointed to what we’d called the New World, based on scant conversations with mariners and traders.
I tensed. She was drawing close to information about our people we had sworn to keep secret. “It’s far away,” I answered. “Daniel, my second, flew that way years ago and we never heard from him again.” She had an awful amount of questions. Suspicion seized me. “You’re not a reporter for one of those newspaper rags, are you?”
Chapter Seven
Eve
I froze, surprised by the danger in his voice. “No,” I answered honestly when I could find my tongue. “Of course not.” I forced a laugh. “Humans don’t hire women to be reporters.”
He eyed me, lips pursed. “Then why so many questions?”
I spread my hands wide, as if opening myself up to his scrutiny. “I can return the favor. What would you like to know?”
A muscle feathered in his jaw. “How old are you?” he barked.
“Twenty-seven,” I answered.
He squinted, as if trying to figure out how old that was to a human, since that would still be a child to the seraphim.
“I should already be married and have children,” I explained.
His brows lifted out of their frown, perhaps in surprise. “Are you?”
I shook my head. I was betrothed to the reverend, Zorababel Grimshaw, but he didn’t need to know that. Honestly, I tried to forget about it myself.
“Why?”
