Between (A Key Holder Novel Book 1) Page 2

  "God didn't come. He didn't save the angels." I slowed at a red light and tried to see through the deluge that covered the windshield. "The Earth is dying. We hardly ever see the sun, and it's getting colder. People are afraid. The only thing we can do is keep on living."

  "The world was tilted off its axis by a few degrees. It will cause climate change, but the extent of the damage will be minimal. The decrease in sunlight won't last forever."

  I turned my head and stared at him. He was lost in thought, apparently not aware of what he'd said. When he realized I was staring, he turned to meet my eyes. "The world is off its axis?" I said.

  His eyes widened. "Yes." He said it slowly as if the memory was seeping into his consciousness. "The damage is minimal."

  I flinched as the cars behind me honked. The light was green and I sped up. I glanced sideways at him as he looked at his hands. "I have no idea how I know that. I didn't even remember the angels had fallen." he murmured.

  "Look," I put on my signal and slowed as we approached my apartment complex. ”We're almost home. When we get there, we can figure this out."

  "Why are you helping me, Cassie? Why aren't you freaking out, and running as far and as fast from me as you can?"

  I grinned, winking at him as I parked my car. "I'm not the kind of girl who shies away from the strange and inexplicable."

  "What kind of girl are you, then?" He raised an eyebrow, a sexy gesture that made my insides liquefy in response.

  "The kind who knows when to fight, and when to run."

  Chapter Two

  My apartment isn't fancy, or large. A splurge on my monthly allowance that allowed me the privacy I'd always cherished, I was now grateful I'd decided to live off campus. A roommate who saw me talking to myself may have called the campus doctors to take me away.

  I dropped my sailing bag by the door and slipped off my shoes. Rule number one in my house. No shoes. I curled my toes into the fuzzy rug and pulled my stranger inside when he hesitated on the doorstep. I found myself musing. When had he become my stranger? As if, by being the only one who could see him, I had taken possession of him in my mind. I shook my head and waved at the small living room. My futon, my favorite old chair, and a coffee table were the extent of my furnishings. A curtain blocked off the area I'd made into my bedroom.

  "Have a seat." I pointed toward the kitchen. "Or get yourself something from the fridge. I need to change clothes, and I'll see if I have anything you can wear." I looked him up at down. He was big. Broad across the shoulders and slimmer in the waist. Mouth-watering was the word that came to mind. I kept that thought to myself as I went behind the curtain. I pulled off my jacket and my shirt, shivering at the chill as the wet clothes came off. I picked a towel up off my bed and dried myself. I made a face as my jeans peeled off my legs with a sick squish. I dropped the wet things into the laundry basket and stood at my closet in my bra and panties. I felt the hair on my neck stir and I turned to find my stranger in the makeshift door, a hot and hungry look on his face. I blushed, the red blush covering all of me as I grabbed for a towel and covered myself.

  "I'm sorry." He didn't sound sorry. He looked down at the carton of milk he held. He was squeezing it so tight that the milk was sloshing over the top. He swore and eased his grip, an impish grin crawling over his face. "I was going to ask if you'd like milk in your tea."

  I pulled the towel more tightly around me and cleared my throat. "Honey, please. And three scoops of sugar."

  He made a face, and let his eyes sweep over me again. "I'm sorry, Cassie."

  I waved him away, but as he closed the curtain, I let out a shaky breath. He was sexy and I wanted him like I'd never wanted another man, but he was also a stranger. As much as my gut was telling me he wasn't dangerous, my mind was screaming at me in warning. I never let strangers into my apartment. Then again, I'd never met a man that no one else could see. I dropped the towel, determined to let my gut win this time. Something about this man was important. There was some reason I'd found him in the ocean. Besides, I thought to myself as I dressed in a long sweater and dark leggings, I wasn't completely helpless. Thanks to my father, I knew a lot about defending myself. He'd made me take three self-defense courses before he'd allowed me to move into my apartment. I sniffed the air, the smell of my special blend of chamomile and honey calling my name. I bent down, pulling an old box from under my bed. I opened it, breathing in the sweet smell of my father's cologne. I took out an old tee shirt and a pair of his jeans. He'd been a tall man, thought heavier through the gut than the man in my living room. I took out his old belt and added it to the pile. His shoes were in the bottom of the box, and I laid them on the top of the pile. They were worn, but they'd have to do.

  The stranger was by the window, a mug of steaming tea in his hand. He sipped, staring out at something only he could see. The fog was so thick, and the rain so heavy, I knew he wasn't looking at the view.

  "You can shower if you'd like."

  He turned to me as I walked up beside him. I lifted the pile of clothes.

  "Hopefully these will fit. My father was a tall man."

  He put his tea on the table and took the clothes. "Has he been gone long?" he asked.

  "Two years." I crossed my arms. "Towels are in the cabinet. Help yourself. There's a new toothbrush on the sink. It's pink, sorry."

  "Thank you, Cassie." He stopped on his way to the bathroom and looked back at me. "I'm not a pervert." He grinned at me. "I just can't remember how long it's been since I saw a woman as beautiful as you. It caught me off guard a little."

  I smiled at him, the compliment warming me. "Thanks. Now take your shower, and then we'll talk.

  As he closed the door behind him and the shower came on I fought the urge to open the bathroom door and return the favor. I grinned as I plopped onto my futon and drew my legs underneath me. I may not have been afraid of him, but I'm not stupid. That man had trouble written over every perfect inch of him.

  I was staring into my empty tea cup when he came out of the shower. The steam preceded him, but when he emerged, he was a fragrant fantasy in old denim and soft cotton. The dark shirt hugged every inch of his chest, outlining every muscle. He was fit, though not muscle-bound like guys who are addicted to the gym. It was pure, hard-won fitness. His biceps flexed as he ran the towel over his hair and leaned against the bathroom door.

  "Thanks for that. I think I might be feeling a little more human already."

  I propped my chin on my hand and looked at him over the back of the futon. His dark hair was thick, shot through with a few strands of red. It fell endearingly into his eye as he grinned at me. I found myself again admiring every perfect angle of his face and body. There was no imperfection, not even the slightest, to mar his beauty. It was wholly fascinating and unnerving at once. "You're welcome."

  He returned to the bathroom to toss the towel, and then sat next to me on the futon. He picked up the book lying on my lap.

  "Ancient Prophecies and Angelic Scripture," he read aloud. He raised that eyebrow and thumbed through the large tome. "This is heavy reading. Is religion your major in college?"

  I took the book from him and put it on the table. "No. I'm actually studying mathematics. Religion and angelic lore are just a hobby of mine."

  "That's how you knew so much about the angels falling. Have you been interested in angels since that day?"

  "Before, actually." I stretched out my legs and moved to wipe a clinging curl from my cheek. Our hands collided as he went to do exactly the same thing. He chuckled and tucked an errant strand behind my ear. I felt the deep stain of a blush on my cheeks, but tried to ignore my instant reaction to his touch. "My mother was deeply faithful. She believed heartily in the existence of angels, even before the fall. I'm sorry she never got to see that her faith was based in fact."

  "She died?" His voice was soft.

  I nodded. "The day they fell, actually. Heart attack." I cleared my throat and willed the tears away. Twelve years, and I continu
ed to feel her loss acutely. I looked at him and crossed my arms. "Let's talk about you. We know a few things."

  "No one else can see me."

  I nodded, biting my lip. "True. We also know that you have no memory of who you are, or where you came from. We have no idea how long ago you might have...died." I stumbled on the last word. To admit that such a vital, gorgeous man might, in truth, be dead seemed a terrible injustice to the world.

  "I don't even know my name." He picked up his tea, long cold, and sipped at it. He was quiet as he looked into the cup. "Pick one." He looked up at me, a smile on his lips.

  "Excuse me?"

  "Pick a name for me. I have no clue what my name is, and you can't keep calling me 'hey you'."

  I twirled a strand of hair around my finger, thinking hard. I knew a lot of male names, but none of them seemed to suit him. He was too brawny for a Greg, too serious for a Jack, and much, much too handsome for John. I let my eyes wander over the room until they came to rest on my bookshelf. I hopped up, grabbing my old Scrabble board and pulling off the top. "This should help."

  He looked at me curiously. "How's that?"

  "We'll toss the tiles. When we see a name in the letters, that's the name we'll choose." I poured the letter tiles onto the coffee table, grimacing at the click and clack of the wood as they fell. I pondered over the letter combinations for some time before he pointed out a group of letters.

  "Noah."

  I raised an eyebrow, but the tiles did indeed spell Noah. "That's actually pretty weird." I said.

  "Why is 'Noah' weird?" He studied me intently, and I blushed under his dark gaze.

  I picked up a photo from behind me on the bookshelf and handed it to him.

  "This is your mother?"

  I nodded. "Her name was Vivian. The man next to her was her best friend. His name was Noah."

  "It means 'repose and consolation' in Hebrew." he told me.

  I laughed as his eyes widened.

  "I have no idea how I know that, but it is quite the coincidence."

  I took the photo from him and put it back in its place. "Do you like the name Noah?"

  He shrugged, but closed his eyes as he considered the name. "It feels right, somehow." He looked at me. "Isn't that strange, that something like that feels like it might really be my name? We couldn't have chosen my real name from a pile of letters, could we?"

  I put my chin in my hand, shaking my head. "I can't imagine the millions to one odds that we'd actually choose your name from a random pile of Scrabble tiles, no." I grinned at him. "Then again, stranger things have happened to me today."

  Noah's face was still, his pose thoughtful as he leaned back on the couch. "Something important is in that name. I can feel it, tickling my mind, trying to evoke a memory." He rubbed his forehead as a big yawn broke through. He stretched every muscle rippling as he groaned long and loud. "I think I could sleep for a year."

  "Perhaps a good night's sleep will bring back a few things, but I'm not sure you'll fit on the futon." I said. I looked at the small couch worriedly. "Your legs are going to hang off the end."

  "I spent a really long time sleeping on a raft in the middle of the ocean. I think I can rough it for a night on a futon." I grinned at his joking, and opened my linen closet, tossing him a blanket and a pillow. "If you need anything, just call me."

  "Cassie." I stopped as he stood, taking my hand in his. Every point of contact between us sparked with electric awareness. I know he felt it too, as his eyes widened and his grip tightened. "Thank you. For helping me. For being the girl who isn't afraid of trouble."

  I smiled, squeezing his hand. He really was a nice guy, and the genuine appreciation was clear in his eyes. Somehow, I knew a lie would look wrong on his face. "You're welcome, Noah. Good night."

  He leaned down, kissing my cheek. I felt the zing as it slammed through my cheek and over my whole body. A simple kiss on the cheek and I was ready to take this man to bed. He was so much more dangerous than I'd ever imagined. I backed away, and as I closed the curtain I heard him put the futon down and stretch out across it. I peeked through to look at him, and saw that he was already snoring. I smiled, and slipped off my sweater, switching it for a soft camisole. As I slid under the covers I looked up at darkened ceiling and wondered what, exactly, I was going to do with my stranger. Something about him was so familiar, so comforting, that I'd forgotten already that we'd only just met. I grinned. Noah. My mother had always whispered to me at night that Noah was watching over us. I guess now I had my very own Noah. I drifted to sleep to the sound of his soft snores on the other side of the curtain.

  I was awakened sometime after midnight strange noises coming from the living area. I got up quietly and peeked around the curtain. My apartment was dark, with only the light of the moon shining into the space. I could see Noah on the couch. He looked asleep. His long legs draped over the end and his feet almost touched the floor. Then, I noticed that the shadows around him seemed to be moving. I squinted, trying to see if there was a figure in the darkness. I saw no solid shapes, only a moving darkness that seemed to hover over him. I heard the sound that had awakened me again, a sigh like an exhale. I shivered, it was a sad, lonely sound. Suddenly the shadow seemed to sense I was watching, and it turned toward me. I let go of the curtain and backed up two steps. I could see the shadow approaching through the curtain. It was making that strange whining sigh more loudly, and I could almost imagine that black, smoky arms were reaching out for me. I had to stifle a whimper of my own. The shadow continued to approach the bedroom, and I felt myself start to panic. I considered running past it, or around it, but I couldn't make my leaden legs move. As it neared I threw up an arm and shouted “Go the hell away! Leave us alone!”

  Suddenly the shadow stopped. Behind it I could see Noah standing by the futon. He raised his arms, and light enveloped him. I shielded my eyes as he called out into the darkness. He spoke in a language I'd never heard. He switched to English, and the shadows screamed as he bellowed at them. "Be gone from this plane. I banish you back to Hell."

  My legs were shaking as I stumbled to the edge of my bed and sat. Noah's light grew in intensity as the shadows seemed to cower back from it. At last, they disappeared with another terrible scream. I looked up as Noah hurried through the curtain and knelt in front of me. His hands came to my cheeks as he looked me over.

  "Are you alright, Cassie? Are you hurt?"

  I shook my head, covering his hands with mine. "I'm okay." I assured him. "But that's one mystery solved."

  “What are you talking about?” He seemed confused, like he'd just awoken from dream.

  I pointed at his back, and watched his eyes widen as he saw what had stunned me. Huge, iridescent silver wings were spread wide behind him. They had suddenly sprouted from his shoulder blades when he'd called for the shadowy attacker to depart. “Noah, you're not a ghost! You're an angel!”

  Noah flexed his wings experimentally. The rush of air off the slight movement ruffled papers on my desk across the room.

  “This doesn't make any sense.” he said again. His face was slack with stunned confusion as he looked at me.

  “Well, you've got wings. You can appear and disappear at will, and you banished that shadow thing with a few words. I don't know any other being aside from angels that could do that.”

  "The angels fell, Cassie. You told me they all died."

  I shook my head. "No. I said we assumed they all died. There are people out there who claim that some angels survived, and hide among humans even today. Maybe that's why you don't remember anything. When you fell you lost your memories." I put my hand over his. His skin felt warm, his corporeality reassuring to me. “None of this has to be figured out tonight, and I have class at eight o'clock. Let's try to sleep again?”

  “What do I do with these?” he asked, and he glanced over his shoulders at the massive wings. “I can't lie on the couch with these things out.”

  I found myself laughing at the absurdity of it
all. An angel, whom apparently only I could see, couldn't figure out how to sleep on my tiny futon! I sobered when I realized that Noah didn't find any of it funny at all.

  “Well, considering you're a celestial being and all, I suppose you can sack out with me on the bed.”

  With his eyebrow lifted he reminded me of any other man I might have made that offer to.

  “Hands to yourself, buddy, and I sleep on the left.”

  He sat for a moment on the floor, seeming to be torn between trying the couch again and following me to the bed. I was a little hurt, surely sleeping in the same bed with me was somewhat better than the little futon. Apparently he decided in my favor, for in a few minutes we were lying back to back under my comforter.

  “Noah you're going to have to roll over.” I shifted up to look at him in the moonlight. “Those wings are really uncomfortable on my back. I guess you'll have to spoon with me.”

  He looked agonized at the thought and my hurt feelings came back all over again. Finally, he complied and we were quickly spooned together.

  “Cassie,” His voice sounded taunt and slightly strangled. “I don't think I'm an angel.”

  I chuckled a little. “Why not?” I whispered. “You've got all the fixings.”

  I felt his arm go around my waist as his wings enfolded us both in a soft cocoon. “If I was an angel,” he said into my ear, “I don't think I'd like this so much.”

  I had no response, and he seemed fine with silence. In minutes we were both sleeping soundly.

  ***

  NOAH OPENED HIS EYES, expecting to find Cassie in his arms. Instead, he was no longer in her bed, but in a meadow. He looked up at the bright sun shining down on him, and held out his arms to soak up its rays.

  "It's been awhile since you've seen it, brother."

  Noah turned at the voice. It was at once comforting, and terrifying. He saw another man seated on a fallen log. He was older than Noah by a few years, and his unruly brown hair fell askew over his face. He wore wire-rimmed glasses, making him appear scholarly, but Noah recognized a warrior when he saw one. This man was dangerous and skilled. "Who are you?" he said. "Where are we?"