CHAPTER 10
I have no idea what’s going on, so I decide to stand still and listen.
“Malcolm just told me you saw him on Cephas,” Jered says anxiously. “Where exactly did you see him? What was he doing? How can I find him there?”
Ethan turns away from the grill and walks over to Jered.
“I tried to find you earlier to tell you myself that I saw Silas, but Malcolm said you were busy doing something in the down-world. I figured that by the time I found you and took you to Cephas, he would most likely already be gone.”
“But what if he’s still there?” Jered asks desperately. “You don’t know that he isn’t. Where exactly did you see him?”
“I went to meet Alex there to get his report but found a firefight happening in our usual meeting spot instead. I saw Silas shooting on one side of the fight; I’m not sure which one. I didn’t have time to figure it out before we had to deal with Helena.”
It’s only after the mention of a “we” that Jered seems to finally notice my existence.
“I’m so sorry,” he says as he straightens his shoulders and tries to wipe away the worry from his facial features. It almost works, but I can still see his troubled state of mind in the pools of his eyes. “Please excuse my intrusion, Ms. Grace.”
“No apology necessary,” I tell Jered, slightly surprised that he knows my name. I can only assume Malcolm told Jered who Ethan was with this evening.
Jered nods his head in my direction, silently letting me know that he appreciates my acceptance of his apology.
“Ethan, do you have a moment to spare to phase me to Cephas so I can look for Silas myself?”
“It’s been hours since I saw him there, Jered. I’m sure he’s gone by now.”
“Nevertheless, I would like to be able to phase to the planet on my own whenever I want. If he went there once, that might mean that he’ll go there again. I won’t be able to rest until I know for sure that he isn’t on that world anymore.”
“I think it would be better if I took you to where Alex is staying on the planet,” Ethan tells him. “He can escort you around and show you the most likely places that Silas might be. That’s better than phasing you to a world you’ve never been to before and having to walk everywhere you want to go.”
“Then I would appreciate you taking me to Alex,” Jered replies, sounding as grateful as he looks.
Ethan turns to me and says, “Will you be all right on your own for a few minutes? This shouldn’t take me very long.”
“Sure, I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promises before resting his hand on his friend’s shoulder and phasing away.
By the time Ethan returns, I’ve already eaten my first slice of the fruit tart and am working on my second serving.
“I’m sorry about that,” he apologizes. “Jered has been looking for his son for months. This is the first time any of us have seen him for quite a while. Although I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that Silas was on Cephas with Helena.”
“Why is that?” I have to ask. “Does he work for her?”
“Sort of,” Ethan begins, sounding hesitant to categorize Silas’ connection to Helena in such a way. “Jered is a Watcher. I assume your mother probably told you about their curse and the curse their children had to suffer through.”
“Yes,” I say. “She told me that their children would transform into creatures at night called werewolves.”
“Jered wasn’t always the man he is today. A long time ago, he sided with Lucifer and used his son to help him accomplish various misguided deeds that ended up killing a lot of people. Anyway, Jered’s son died and has been in Hell for over a thousand years. At least he was up until a few months ago. We assumed he was helping Helena in some way after she left Earth, but this is the first time any of us has actually seen him with our own eyes.”
“So, is Jered going to try to talk his son out of helping her?”
“That’s part of his plan,” Ethan says with a heavy sigh. “As you can imagine, Jered feels an enormous amount of guilt for being the reason his son was sent to Hell in the first place. Now, he wants to find a way to break Silas free from Helena’s hold over him so he can redeem himself.”
“What if Silas isn’t interested in asking for God’s forgiveness?”
“That isn’t a possibility as far as Jered is concerned.”
“And what is your opinion on the subject?”
Ethan shrugs. “It doesn’t really matter what I think. As long as Jered believes his son can be saved, I have to help him in any way I can.”
“What if the only way to help Jered is to make him come to terms with the fact that his son will never change?”
“Then I’ll help him with that loss when the time comes. Right now, Jered has hope that he can reason with Silas. I’m not about to take that dream away from him.”
I decide to drop the issue because it’s really none of my business. I’m sure Jered knows his son. If he thinks Silas can be saved, there has to be a possibility of it happening. If Silas was my child, I would never give up on him either, and I can only assume that Jered feels the same way.
“I see you’ve already eaten a quarter of the tart,” Ethan notes before returning to his position by the grill. “If you will have a little more patience with me, I’ll have the rest of our meal cooked in just a few minutes.”
“No rush,” I tell him from my seat at the table. “I just started eating this slice, and I’m trying to eat it more slowly than I did the first piece so I can savor all the flavors.”
“By the time you’re through, I should have everything almost cooked,” Ethan promises.
From my position at the table, I quietly watch Ethan as he begins to prepare our meal. Apparently the large plastic box on the table contains the fresh seafood he intends to cook. I see him pull out a bag of shrimp and a bag with two lobster tails. He also pulls out two silver-looking pouches and places them directly on the grill without opening them. After he lights a fire underneath the grill, he begins to skewer the shrimp and place them over the low-burning flames.
Every motion Ethan makes is sure with purpose and graceful fluidity. I can’t say I’ve ever seen anyone move like he does. It takes me a moment to figure out what it is about the way he shifts his body that intrigues me. After a few minutes of studying him, I realize what it is. He moves like a man who knows exactly what he’s doing and exactly how he intends to accomplish each of his actions. Most people hesitate for at least a few seconds while they work at something, but not Ethan. There is no doubt in his actions, and for some reason, I find it fascinating to watch him move.
He must feel me watching him, because while he’s basting the shrimp and lobster tails with melted butter, he turns around to meet my gaze.
“How was the tart?” he asks me. “I assume it was good since you ate two slices of it.”
“It was one of the most delicious things I’ve ever eaten,” I declare truthfully. “Anna is a great cook.”
Ethan smiles at my remark like I’ve said something that amused him.
“Did I say something funny?” I ask, unsure how my statement could be considered humorous.
“Anna comes from a long line of really bad cooks,” Ethan answers. “She’s the only one of the descendants who was able to break the curse and learn how to do it.”
“Ah, well, she definitely knows how. That’s for sure. I just wish I had the patience to do it.”
“I’m sure you’re good at other things,” he says, hinting for me to divulge a plethora of my secret talents to him.
“I always hit my target when I shoot my gun,” I tell him. It may not be something a normal girl would say, but if whatever this is between me and Ethan has a chance of progressing to something more than just a dinner date, he needs to know I’m not like a lot of other women he’s met on other worlds. “And I always bring in a bounty once I’ve accepted the job.”
Ethan grins. “I take it you’re not the type of woman who sits at home knitting scarves and baking cookies then.”
“Sometimes I wish I were,” I half laugh. “Life would be a lot simpler.”
“Why did you leave the police force to become a bounty hunter?”
I stare at Ethan for a moment, considering whether or not I should answer his question. I don’t feel ready to, so I break our eye contact and look down at my nearly empty plate. While I consider my next words, I use my fork to roll a solitary red raspberry around in the leftover crumbs.
“I, uh,” I begin so it doesn’t seem like I’m ignoring his question while I try to figure out how I’m going to answer it. “I quit after my husband died. I hated the way people would look at me like they pitied me. So I decided to start working alone. I’m basically doing the same job I did on the force. I hunt down criminals and get paid for it. The only difference is that I don’t have a badge or a nine-to-five job to go to every day. I like being my own boss and setting my own schedule. It makes life easier not to have to answer to someone else.”
“I can understand that,” he says, turning back around to face the grill to flip over the shrimp and lobster tails.
I suddenly feel an overwhelming urge to be closer to Ethan, so I stand from the table and walk over to him. As soon as I approach the grill, the delectable scent of the shrimp and lobster assail my nostrils, filling them with their sweet aroma.
“That seriously smells delicious,” I tell him, unable to prevent myself from inhaling deeply. I look over at the two foil-wrapped items he first put on the grill. “What’s in those?”
“Sea trout,” he answers. “We caught a few while we were shrimping. I have some white wine, melted butter, lemon juice, parsley, and pepper in there with the fish. I thought you might like to try it.”
“It all smells wonderful,” I tell him as I walk over to the small table Roan brought earlier to look at the two small closed containers sitting on top of it. “Can I ask what you cooked for side dishes?”
“I made some lemon rosemary roasted potatoes and sautéed asparagus spears with mushrooms. I hope those are all right. I wasn’t sure what you would prefer.”
“Everything you brought sounds yummy to me,” I say, turning sideways slightly to meet his gaze again.
“Good,” he replies with a pleased nod of his head. “My culinary skills are limited, but I try to expand them by learning new recipes when I have the time. Lately, we’ve been so busy trying to find Helena that I haven’t had much of an opportunity to cook.”
With the mention of Helena, I realize I haven’t told Ethan about my encounter with her in my apartment after he left me earlier. I almost don’t want to, because I know as soon as I do, he’ll feel guilty for leading her directly to where I live. But if I don’t tell him now, I’ll feel like I’m keeping a secret from him, and that’s not any better of a solution for me.
“I have to tell you something,” I begin, drawing his attention away from the grill and back to me. “Helena came to my apartment not long after you left it today.”
Ethan’s body goes completely still. I don’t even think he blinks as he considers my words.
Finally, he seems to snap out of his shock and asks, “Has she ever been there before? Perhaps during the time she and Cade spent on Sierra?”
I shake my head and wish I didn’t have to say my next words. “They never visited my apartment. She followed your phase trail there from Cephas.”
Ethan grips the wooden handle of the brush he was using to baste the shrimp and lobster with so tightly that it snaps into two pieces.
“That,” he says in a deep voice, “was stupid of me.”
I assume he’s talking about leading Helena to my apartment and not the fact that he just broke his basting brush.
“She didn’t hurt me or even try to,” I’m quick to tell him. “In fact, I was able to use the opportunity to talk to her about asking for Desmond’s help when it’s time for her son to be born.”
“But I led her straight to you, Jules,” he says agitatedly as he throws the now ruined brush into the sink beside the grill. “It was thoughtless of me, and I’m never careless, especially when it comes to people I care about.”
“Seriously, don’t beat yourself up about it,” I tell him in an attempt to take away the sting he obviously feels for making a mistake. “I think it might have worked out in our favor, actually. She opened up to me a little bit, and that might help us later on, particularly if you want to convince her to hand over her son to you. I know you’re used to fighting for what you want and what you believe to be right, but I don’t believe this will be a situation you’ll be able to win with a sword. You’re going to have to reason with Helena and prove to her that giving up her son is the best thing she can do for him.”
“You can’t reason with a creature like her,” Ethan says without a note of doubt in his voice. “She’s pure evil.”
“Do you truly believe that?” I have to ask. “From what I’ve been told, Cade loved her very much. Do you think he was the type of person who could love someone who has zero redeemable qualities?”
My question seems to bring Ethan up short. His lips press together tightly like he’s doing his best not to start a verbal fight with me about Helena’s virtues … or lack thereof. I remember him telling me earlier that if he starts to humanize Helena, he might not be able to do what he feels like he has to in order to save Cade’s child from her. I can’t imagine Ethan cutting Helena open and ripping her baby right out of her womb, but it’s obvious he can, and I’m not sure how I feel about that side of him.
“I’m sorry I absentmindedly gave her access to your apartment,” Ethan says in a low voice. Apparently he’s decided not to answer my question about Helena’s possible good traits. Cade must have seen something worth loving in Helena before his untimely demise or she wouldn’t be pregnant with his child right now. “I’ll try to be more cautious in the future. I suppose I was so concerned about your safety, I didn’t consider all of the repercussions of taking you directly home from the battlefield.”
“Why were they fighting there anyway?” I ask. “I thought you said the places where you meet your men are out of the way on each planet.”
“They were when we originally picked them. Apparently two of the warring clans on Cephas found a mineral deposit in that location within the last week and decided to have a fight to see who would earn the right to claim it as their own.”
“And your friend—Alex, was it?—where was he in all of that mess? I assume he knew what time to meet us there.”
“He phased in a few minutes earlier and discovered the fighting. He was helping tend to the wounded when you and I arrived. That’s why we didn’t see him.”
“I take it from what you said to Jered that you don’t believe Silas is on that planet anymore. Why do you think his son was participating in the fight?”
“To encourage a larger fight to break out, most likely. Helena uses people to promote chaos in the universe. I’m sure starting a war on Cephas simply progresses whatever agenda she has at the moment.”
“Do you think she’s on a crusade of some sort?”
Ethan begins to shake his head. “I don’t know if she has a particular plan in mind or if she simply wants to cause as much destruction as she can. There’s no telling what’s going on in that twisted sense of logic of hers.”
Ethan glances down at the grill before walking over to the table to retrieve our dinner plates. I take this as meaning that the meal is finally cooked and we can eat! I’m so excited I begin to smile like an idiot.
“I can’t believe I’m about to eat shrimp,” I tell him in awe of the meal he’s prepared.
“I’m surprised your mother or Enis never went to Earth to get some for you if you wanted to try it so desperately,” he says while placing two of the shrimp skewers on my plate.
“You might as well add an extra one,” I tell him, already knowing two won’t be enough for me.
Ethan smiles and obliges my request for a third skewer.
“I’m sure they would have, but while Lucifer was full-on evil, they were ordered by him to stay on Sierra and to not return to Earth unless they were told to come. I guess they just got used to not being on Earth and lost their desire to go back there. They both seem to want to return now, though, since Anna is being threatened by the other rebellion angels, or at least the ones who decided to remain on Hale’s side. I still can’t believe some of them didn’t accept God’s forgiveness when He offered it to them.”
“Rebellion angels have always been stupid and stubborn,” Ethan says with complete disdain for his fellow angels. “I’ve never understood them, but then again, I suppose I wasn’t built to comprehend that level of idiocy.”
“Hey now,” I warn good-naturedly, “watch how you talk about rebellion angels around me. My mom and uncle used to be on the wrong side of the argument you know.”
“Yes, but they’ve recovered and realize which side of the fight they should actually be on.”
I can’t really argue against that point.
After Ethan loads my plate with shrimp, a lobster tail, and the sea trout, I know I don’t have room for a sampling of his side dishes. I guess I should have known he would have already thought about that. After I sit down at the table, he brings over the two covered dishes and sets them down. When he removes their covers, I see that they contain two smaller plates filled with each side dish, stacked one over the other to prevent them from touching. Ethan sets a plate of the potatoes and a plate of the asparagus and mushroom dish on either side of my dinner plate.
“I hope you like everything,” he says, taking the remaining side dish plates and placing them beside his own table setting.
Once he takes his seat, I see no reason not to dig into the meal with gusto.
As soon as the first succulently sweet shrimp enters my mouth, I feel like I must have died and stepped straight through the pearly white gates.
“Oh dear Lord in Heaven, this tastes so good!” I practically squeal, which earns me a smile of pride from Ethan.
“I’m glad you like it, and I feel privileged to be the first person to introduce you to seafood.”
“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything po pood …”
Po pood? What the …
I immediately lift my hands to my lips and notice they feel hot and swollen.
“Jules?” Ethan says in alarm as he stares at me like I’ve grown a second head out of my shoulders.
At the moment, that feels like exactly what’s happened.
“Meh pung’s mowen!” I say in alarm, but even I wouldn’t have been able to decipher my gibberish as meaning “my tongue’s swollen.”
Apparently Ethan doesn’t need me to tell him what’s wrong. From the expression of horror on his face, I can tell he knows I’m in trouble.
His next movements are so quick all I see is a blur of motion. Before I know it, I’m safely cradled in Ethan’s arms, and he phases us to what looks like the interior of a well-kept, but unassuming, kitchen in the lower part of an old house.
“Desmond!” Ethan shouts, unintentionally causing my ears to ring and my head to hurt with the volume of his booming voice.
Ethan takes another lungful of air in to shout out Desmond’s name again, but luckily for my ears and head, Desmond phases into the kitchen beside us.
“What’s wrong, Ethan?” he immediately asks, looking between Ethan and my face.
Desmond’s eyes show his shock, and I wonder if my head has ballooned to the size of a watermelon.
“What happened?” Desmond quickly asks Ethan.
“She ate some shrimp,” he replies in a rush to get the words out. “I think she’s having an allergic reaction to it.”
“A quite severe one if you ask me,” Desmond says. “Jules, are you having any trouble breathing?”
I feel sure the sound of my newly acquired wheeze is answer enough for Desmond.
He wastes no time and phases away but returns within just a few seconds holding a small black metallic tube of some sort.
“Sit her down,” Desmond orders Ethan.
Ethan sets me in one of the wooden kitchen chairs at the table. He makes to move away, but I grab ahold of one of his hands, needing the reassurance of his touch in that moment. Without questioning me, he squeezes my hand, letting me know that he’s not going anywhere.
Desmond bends down on a knee in front of me and places one end of the black tube he’s holding against a patch of the skin on my thigh that’s peeking through the illusion hem of my skirt.
“This is going to sting a little bit,” he warns me, “but you should feel better almost instantly.”
When Desmond presses down on the other end of the tube, I feel a slight bit of pressure and a stinging sensation as what I presume to be medicine enters into my bloodstream. Almost instantly, I feel the constriction of my throat lessen and find it much easier to breathe.
“Are you feeling better?” Desmond asks me, showing me his winning grin and soothing bedside manner.
I nod my head. I know if I try to talk, I’ll just end up embarrassing myself because my tongue is still swollen.
“Good,” Desmond says before standing back up. “Luckily, Ethan brought you to me instead of the doctors on your world. They don’t have access to the drug I just gave you, which should clear everything up and have you feeling better by morning. If you had had this reaction on your world, they probably would have kept you in a hospital for a few days hooked up to an IV bag and administered a good dose of antihistamines. The only side effects you should feel from what I just gave you is dizziness and perhaps some nausea. It’s also going to make you feel drowsy, so I suggest you go home and get some rest. Tomorrow you’ll feel a lot better. I promise.”
My heart sinks at the thought of his orders. I’ve totally screwed up my first date with Ethan, and he’ll probably just chalk it up to a catastrophe averted with me. The odds of him asking me out again are slim to none, and just the thought of that possibility makes me sadder than I thought it would. I can’t even make myself look up at Ethan I feel so embarrassed by the whole situation. All I want to do is go home, get out of my fancy dress, and crawl underneath the covers of my bed to hide from the world for a little while.
“Thanks for your help,” Ethan says to Desmond, shaking his friend’s hand.
“Anytime, brother,” he replies. “I’m just glad you got her here before things got any worse. I can’t say I’ve ever seen a food allergy that severe before.”
“It’s all my fault,” Ethan says, sounding like a man guilty of a heinous crime. “I never should have fed her shellfish. I didn’t even consider the possibility that she might be allergic to it.”
“Bon’t,” I tell him, squeezing the hand he still holds and hoping he understands that I really mean “don’t.” He shouldn’t feel an ounce of guilt for something that was my idea. I was the one who begged him to make seafood. He didn’t force it down my throat. At least I was able to taste the succulent meat once in my life, because now I know I never will again.
“She’s right,” Desmond tells Ethan. “None of this was your fault or hers for that matter. It was just an accident. Now, why don’t you take her home so she can get some rest? That’s the best remedy for her right now. Her body has literally gone through a shock, and it needs some time to recover from it.”
Ethan nods and leans down to pick me up into his arms again. I would protest, but, well, for one, I can’t even speak well enough for him to understand what I would say, and secondly, I like having him hold me. It makes me feel safe, and that’s a sensation I haven’t felt in quite some time. It may not be the “woman of modern times” thing to admit, but being held by someone who seems to care about your well-being is comforting. It makes Ethan even more attractive to me to know that he seems to feel protective of me.
“I’ll make sure she gets plenty of rest. I won’t leave her side tonight,” Ethan promises Desmond.
“Good. Just let me know if anything unexpected happens. I don’t foresee any complications arising, but you never know. I’ll be here if you need me.”
“Thank you,” Ethan says before phasing me back home.
Thankfully, my mom and Uncle Enis aren’t in my apartment anymore. I really don’t have the energy to deal with their worry.
Without asking permission, Ethan carries me into my dark bedroom and lays me down on the bed with my head resting on a pillow. He reaches over toward my nightstand and turns on the lamp there, giving the area surrounding us a soft glow. He then turns back toward me and slips off my shoes, setting them down on the floor next to the bed.
When he looks me in the eyes again, he asks, “Where can I find some pajamas for you to change into?”
I point directly behind him to a chest of drawers.
“Second drawer,” I’m able to say intelligibly. It wasn’t exactly the clearest speech since my tongue is still slightly swollen, but it was at least understandable.
Ethan walks over and opens the drawer, pulling out the top T-shirt and matching shorts he finds there. I don’t actually own a pair of fancy pajamas. I prefer shirts and shorts. For one thing, you never know what might happen in the middle of the night. What if there was a fire and I had to run out of the building? I would rather be in regular clothes than silky pink pajamas and fluffy house shoes.
I see Ethan take notice of what’s printed on the front of the black T-shirt he’s holding.
“Twisted Fate,” he reads, looking at the words and the guitar embroidered with white thread. “Is that a music group here?”
“Yes,” I say sitting up on the bed and swinging my legs over the side. “They’re my favorite rock band.”
Ethan hands me the clothing.
“Do you need any help changing clothes?” he asks in such a way that I know he only wants to be helpful. He isn’t trying to use the situation to his advantage in any other respect.
“I think I can manage,” I tell him. “But thank you for the offer.”
“All right then, I guess I’ll go sit out in the living room and check up on you from time to time. If you need me, just call out my name. I’ll hear you.”
Ethan walks out of the room and closes the door behind him. I do almost call out his name but not because I feel sick. I begin to have the same strange sensation of loneliness that I felt earlier in the day when he brought me home from the battlefield. There’s an emptiness to the room now that he’s left it that I don’t like.
I quickly change clothes and go to the bathroom to brush my teeth and put my hair up into a ponytail. Once I’m done, I walk into the living room and find Ethan reading a book that I don’t remember ever owning. Obviously, he phased home and retrieved it to pass the time with.
“What are you reading?” I ask as I walk over and sit down beside him on the couch, curling my legs up and pulling the throw blanket I had draped over the back of it to cover me.
“It’s a book about the last Great War on Earth,” he tells me.
“Are you a history buff?”
“About Earth’s history, yes,” he admits, closing the book so he can give me his undivided attention. “Are you feeling all right? Is something wrong?”
I shrug my shoulders and look away from him for a moment before working up my courage to look back at him. The concern I see in his eyes for my welfare compels me to be more truthful than I normally would be in this situation. Or perhaps it’s simply because I feel strangely comfortable enough to tell him the real reason I came out here.
“Every time you leave me,” I say, feeling a little nervous and excited by his response to my words, “I start to feel lonely. It’s almost like you’re not supposed to leave me. Does that make any sense?”
Ethan grins understandingly, and I have to wonder if he feels the same way too.
“Yes,” he tells me. “It makes perfect sense.”
He stretches out his left arm as if silently beckoning me to lean up against him to rest my head. I don’t need a verbal invitation. A physical one works just fine.
As I snuggle up next to his warmth, he reopens his book and asks, “Would you like me to read to you?”
“Well, if anything is a surefire bet to put me to sleep, it’s definitely a history book,” I confess.
I hear and feel Ethan chuckle at my words, but I think he appreciates my honesty. As he begins to read, I find the cadence of his voice comforting and the material in the book about as dry as I thought it would be. Within a few minutes, my eyes begin to droop of their own accord. Just before I fall asleep, I feel Ethan kiss the top of my head, which is resting comfortably against his shoulder.
“Sweet dreams,” he murmurs.
I smile. It isn’t exactly the type of kiss I was hoping we would end our first date with, but I’ll take it.