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The wind was picking up, and Jo could see the lightning off in the distance. She had volunteered for this job despite knowing the thunderstorm was coming, because it was important, and someone needed to do it – but that didn’t make it any more fun to be caught out in a storm.
She was meant to be refreshing the wards on the camp, protecting the people inside from the vengeful angels out to destroy the world… excuse her, bring the world to the paradise of being ruled by the angels, rather than suffering the misery and hardship by imperfect human self-rule. Her camp was fighting back, which made them a huge target, which meant that the warding against the angels needed to be perfect.
The reason Jo felt it had to be her doing the job, well… her people wouldn’t understand. She refused to tell them. It had started over a year earlier, when Jo had been injured and left for dead after a raid on an angel supply camp. She’d learned later that the raiders had caught hell from her mother, but she agreed with their choice to leave her behind. She should have died. Her spine was broken, her spinal cord severed, she couldn’t walk, and with the blood loss, she should be dead. Hauling her back home would have taken valuable carrying capacity that would mean leaving food or toilet paper or other essential supplies behind.
The reason she wasn’t dead was the same as the reason she took care of the angel wards herself. While she sat propped up against an empty crate, holding her gun to take down any angels who happened within her range, one appeared. She’d tried to raise the gun and fire, but the blood loss had weakened her too much. The gun was too heavy.
The angel had approached her, crouching beside her. “You have spirit, don’t you? The kind of strength my kind doesn’t understand.”
“Just… kill me,” Jo managed to rasp out. “Or go away. Gloating is…”
“Unbecoming of an angel.” He reached out, placing a hand over her abdomen. “My admiration is genuine, human. What is your name?”
“Like I’d tell you.” Jo could feel herself slipping away, but she fought against it, though she couldn’t explain why she was fighting. The end was inevitable. Why fight to prolong her suffering?
“Very well, then. I’ll give you mine. I am Ephraim.” The name meant absolutely nothing to Jo, but she was starting to feel some warmth in her belly. “I’m sorry, woman, but this will hurt. I regret that, but it is the only way.”
Jo would have asked what the hell that meant, of course dying was going to hurt, but then her entire back flared up in the worst pain she’d ever imagined. Far worse than the times she’d been shot, worse than the slash of the hellhounds she’d taken during the Apocalypse while trying to stop things, so much worse than the knife that had actually done this to her. She couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t feel anything but the pain, couldn’t even scream. Thankfully, it was short. Of course, now that she was dead, she was probably in Hell and that was going to be her life… her existence, anyway.
“I’m so sorry.” Ephraim got to his feet and held out a hand to Jo. She just stared. “You didn’t have time for your muscles to atrophy, but there may be a mental block. Please accept my assistance in getting to your feet.”
Jo rolled her eyes. Then she looked around. “Wait, I’m not dead.”
“No, you’re not, although if you’re caught here in the camp we’ll both be killed.” Ephraim shook his hand once, reminding her that it was there. What the hell, then. Jo reached up and took it, letting Ephraim pull her to her feet. She’d just…
Except she didn’t collapse. Her legs were able to hold her up. She took a hesitant experimental step, gasping in shock when there was no pain and no weakness. “What did you do to me?”
“I healed your wounds. That’s what I do. I’m a healer.” Ephraim nodded sharply. “I know you won’t trust me to accompany you back to your camp, so we may as well part ways here. Take care of yourself, spirited one.”
“Jo. My name’s Jo.” She checked to make sure she had everything she needed. “If I try to take anything else from the camp, are you going to stop me?”
“It will be difficult to do from my base,” Ephraim said, smiling for the first time. “Goodbye, Jo.”
Not long after, Jo and Ephraim ran into each other while Jo was on a scouting trip. He was alone, and this time, she approached him. One thing had led to another, and they spent the whole night in a treehouse Jo had built as a kid. When Ephraim had to leave, they’d agreed to attempt a clandestine relationship. If they met on a battlefield, they would do what they had to do; otherwise, they would meet there, at the treehouse. Ephraim gave Jo a feather, telling her that any time she wanted to see him, she should burn a small piece of it. She gave him a lock of her hair that he could use to send a telepathic message asking her to come to the treehouse.
By handling the wards herself, Jo could make sure that the treehouse was left unwarded. If Ephraim was there, he could block unwanted attention. If he wasn’t there, it was far enough from the main camp to be worth the risk. After Jo finished refreshing the last of the wards, she hurried to the treehouse. Her current feather was nearly gone, but still, Jo cut what she had in half. Ephraim didn’t always come the first time she called.
This time, Ephraim was there immediately. “I am so glad you called me, Jo, I needed to get away. Michael is… in a terrible mood, after a raid in Florida where six angels died.”
Jo reached up to stroke his face, pulling him in for a kiss. “I’m glad you’re out of there. Will Michael cause problems?”
“No. He’ll blame it on the weak stomach of a Rit Zien for the entertainment he had planned for the night, which is fair enough. I had already left before you called, you just gave me somewhere to go.” Ephraim kissed her again, and then pulled back. “The call felt weak. Do you need another feather?”
“Yes, please.” Jo waited while Ephraim carefully produced one. She kept hoping to get a glimpse of his wings, but whether it could happen or not, it never did. She very carefully tucked it into the inside pocket of her coat along with several bird feathers – a useful disguise in case someone happened to go through her pockets. “How’s the hair holding up?”
“Perfectly, since I don’t have to burn it to reach out to you. Look.” Ephraim reached up and touched a necklace he wore, made of braided gold filaments. On closer inspection, Jo could see the blonde hair woven into the design. Unnoticeable unless you were looking for it, and not exactly obvious even if you were. “Zachariah chastised me for going native when I first started wearing it, but as jewelry is starting to catch on, I’m not worried about it. I’m hardly the only angel who’s taken to wearing things for our own purposes.”
“Good. Please don’t get caught, I’d miss you if you weren’t able to come see me anymore.” Jo pulled away, grabbing a blanket and throwing it across the floor of the treehouse to lie down on. “What are you in the mood for?”
“I’ve got time, I’ve got love, you tell me what you want from me.” Ephraim lay beside her, reaching out to wrap his arms around her. “How long can you stay?”
“All night. I told them I was planning on doing some scouting in addition to checking the wards, and not to expect me back until tomorrow morning. When will they miss you?”
“Likely not until morning, unless something goes horribly awry, in which case they’ll put out a summons. I’m not going to be the only angel spending tonight in the arms of a human, although this is far different.” Jo made a face, but it was a useful cover, knowing that there were humans out there who had decided that being a prostitute for the angels was better than being dead or hunted. “I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t believe me, knowing what I am and what we are, but Jo? I love you.”
Jo froze for a moment. He certainly had good reason for thinking she wouldn’t believe him. Love and angels was an unnatural fit, from what she’d seen during and since the Apocalypse. And yet, what other explanation was there for this? If it was just about the sex, he could get that from one of the human prostitutes, or even another angel now that they’d started learning the joys of it.
Did this change anything? They were still going to have to be secret, still going to have to sneak around just to find time to be in each other’s arms. Their people were still at war, and they both knew full well that the next time they tried to contact the other, it might not work because they’d been killed. Ephraim had the luxury of being able to request assignments and doing his best to avoid Nebraska, but it wasn’t a guarantee. They just might find themselves watching the other die from the wrong side of the battlefield. But at the same time… it changed everything. Jo wasn’t being a naïve lovestruck fool. Ephraim did love her. “I love you, too. Thank you.”
Ephraim gently tugged her hair. “Shall I put up the noise-cancelling wards, then?”
That one, no need to think about. Jo started working her way out of her clothes. “Of course. No sense in getting caught just because you made me forget I needed to be quiet when I don’t actually need to be quiet!”