He should not share his secrets. And to willingly, happily do so when so much danger surrounded them? Even worse. But he wanted to share all that he was, so that in turn, she would share all that she was.
Haidee’s earlier words suddenly played through his mind. Your woman needs to be one of the most important things in your life. Above your job, definitely. Her brother turned his back on her, and her boyfriend dumped her. She hasn’t experienced unconditional love in so long, you’ll crush her if you keep her without committing to her.
As he’d told Haidee, he was committed. He just wasn’t sure how to show Annabelle how important she was to him. He had to place his army first. He had to place his duty first.
“Uh, Zachie?”
How bad was it that he’d even grown to like the shortened version of his name, as long as it sprang from this woman’s lips? “The born are only part of the Deity’s troops and must be protected the first decade of their lives,” he said. “They are weak, and must be taught to eat, to walk, to fly.”
“Look at me, Zacharel! Look how high I’m flying!”
“You’re doing so well, Hadrenial. I’m proud of you.”
“Like humans,” Annabelle said, “minus the flying, of course.”
“Yes.” He toyed with a lock of her hair. “The created were strong from the moment they first blinked open their eyes, but they never quite learned to understand the humans they were meant to safeguard. But that is why both the born and the created are useful. They excel in different areas, one picking up the other’s slack.”
“Who created them?”
“The Most High.”
Despite his status, Zacharel had never come to understand or sympathize with the humans. He had grown out of his weakness, but the humans had never seemed to do so. They had reminded him of grains of sand—there, but easily lost in the masses and forgotten.
What about the human in your arms? She is not weak, and you will never forget her.
No, she wasn’t, and no, he wouldn’t.
The warmth of her breath caressed his chest. “I’m trying to imagine little Zacharel. Were you allowed to play games as a child?”
“No. Hadrenial and I had duties, even then. When we weren’t training, we acted as messengers and scouts, and sometimes even served as escorts for human spirits to their eternal home.”
Hadrenial had hated that part of their life.
“Look how her loved ones cry over her loss. I can’t bear to see so much pain.”
“They will see each other again. One day.”
“Will they? What if one goes to heaven, and the other to hell?”
“We will not be to blame. They will.”
“Surely there’s something we can do to help them, to make sure.”
Zacharel had wanted to take over the duty of escorting the spirits completely, but he hadn’t allowed himself to do so. He’d hoped his brother would eventually become desensitized to it, that he would no longer feel the tenderness that had shadowed every aspect of his life.
He was wrong.
“I’m so sorry,” Annabelle said, drawing him back to the present.
He tensed, afraid he had accidentally spoken the long-ago conversation aloud. “Why?”
“You were deprived. Every child, even an angel warrior-in-training, deserves to relax and have fun.” A warm chuckle left her. “My brother and I used to play hide-and-seek in the house, and one time I hid a little too well. He looked for me for over an hour, and ultimately I fell asleep. He asked my parents for help, and the way they tell it, they tore the house up searching for me. When they couldn’t find me, either, they called the cops, thinking I’d been kidnapped.”
The joy in her voice… I want to make her feel that way. “Where were you?”
“In the dryer, snuggled up with the still-warm towels.” Another chuckle, sparkling like champagne. “Maybe one day you and I can play. We’ll—” She stopped, just stopped.
Assuming something was wrong, Zacharel held out his hand, preparing to summon his sword of fire while at the same time scanning the room. No demon jumped from the shadows or misted through the walls, and he relaxed.