SOUL MATES (Angels and Demons Book 3) (5 page)

“I have a purpose to fulfill and being here helps me do that.”

“A purpose?”

“A job. God gave me a job to do before he sent me here, and I’m still doing it.”

“What’s that?”

Almost as though Caryn’s question had brought her to them, Stiles spotted Dylan coming around the tables that had held the buffet for the picnic, but was now a resting place for tired dancers. She was alone, dressed in a thin-strapped summer dress that clung to her waist and flowed nicely around her legs. The moonlight reflected off her short, blond hair, making it look like she had a small halo around her head. She was so beautiful and so familiar, that something in Stiles’ soul responded when he saw her there. He was drawn to her—needed to be near her. But he found himself wondering if that was just habit, or if he what he felt was really this much talked about human emotion…love.

“Stiles?”

He looked down at Caryn, so involved in his own thoughts that he had forgotten her question. She was watching him with such naked admiration that he suddenly had a glimpse of what it was that Dylan must see when he looked at her. It was embarrassing, if he let himself admit it. Embarrassing that, for an angel who had worked so hard for so long to keep his emotions to himself, it was so obvious. He glanced at Dylan again, caught her watching him with clouds dancing over her face, and decided it was time he sought his own happiness instead of depending so much on what Dylan wanted, what Dylan might or might not chose, or on what Dylan did.

“Let’s not talk about that anymore,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me more about you? What do you do with your time? What do you plan to do with your future?”

Caryn’s smile was filled with delight. “I work in the library sometimes,” she said…and off she went, talking about things that Stiles only half heard. But that wasn’t the point. The point was to continue feeling her warm, reassuring body in his arms and, maybe, to steal a kiss later in the evening. And that, he was positive, was one desire he would surely be granted.

Dylan stood alone in a dress she borrowed from Rachel and watched Stiles dance with one of the local girls. Carrie or Caryn, she thought her name was. Pretty little thing, but somehow she’d never thought she was Stiles’ type. But maybe she’d never really appreciated what Stiles type was. Or how lonely he might be.

Rachel was there, too, standing off to the side of the dance floor with Raphael. They were talking quietly, just friends from outward appearances, but Dylan could see the little looks they shared from time to time and the way Rachel’s pinky caught Raphael’s whenever their hands brushed. She was happy for Rachel, really. She just worried that she didn’t fully understand what it was like to love someone who was so different from herself. Wyatt had learned that lesson over and over again. It wasn’t something Dylan wished on anyone, especially someone as gentle as Rachel was.

The others were there, too. Wilhelm and Donna were dancing, holding each other a little too close as he made her giggle about something Dylan couldn’t even begin to guess. Demetria was standing with a bunch of older women, sharing recipes and discussing children like middle-aged women tended to do. And there were the angels of Raphael’s legion, some dancing with each other or the humans, and some were hanging around the perimeter, watching for trouble. If she didn’t know who they were, she wouldn’t have noticed the steel in their steady gazes. But she did and it was an unnecessary reminder that they were at war and trouble could come at any moment.

She was, however, grateful that, for the most part, they were all relaxing and having something of a good time. They deserved it. It had been a difficult year, or so. She wished that she could join them, but there was too much water under the bridge for that. Watching the dancers reminded her of Wyatt. Watching the young mothers who still had their babies in their arms, and those who were constantly glancing back at the dwellings, worrying about babies left at home with older siblings, reminded her of Josephine and her new baby.

She should be there. She should be helping Josephine with the baby, giving her advice and support. But she was here, fighting a battle she wished was not hers alone. Alone. That seemed to be the theme of her life these days. She was alone in the leadership of this legion of angels and gargoyles and humans, alone in the search for a way to stop the demons, and alone in her struggle to accept her role as the guardian of humanity.

Dylan knew she could choose her soul mate now and she would no longer be truly alone. But she also knew that once she made that choice, her freewill became more of a footnote than the primary thing that set her apart from all the other angels. Even though she knew that made no difference in the bigger picture, it was something she stubbornly held on to just the same. Maybe it was the human part of her—that teeny, tiny piece of humanity that struggled to be heard within her angel DNA. Whatever it was, she was reluctant to let it go.

She turned and headed back to Rachel’s. She was nearly there when she felt a dark presence materialize behind her. It was a split second, and then she felt the cold tendrils of a dark soul touch her brighter one. Anger immediately washed through her, anger so intense that her fingernails bit into the palms of her hands as she balled them into fists.

“You can’t,” she said as she fought the demon’s attempt to possess her body. “You can’t do this to me.”

“I can do what I wish, when I wish,” a voice said in her head. “That’s one of the perks of being like this.”

Dylan fought the soul for a moment, but the more she fought it, the more ingrained it became in her soul. So she stopped, stood very still, and closed her eyes. When she did, she could feel the thoughts and memories of this demon.

She saw a beautiful little girl dancing in a meadow with her equally beautiful mother. She saw laughter on their lips and words of love twirling in the air around them as the mother sang some song Dylan didn’t know. And she heard a man’s laughter.

She knew who this was, knew who the woman and child were.

“Rebecca.”

You don’t say her name!
The demon screamed as his soul loosened from Dylan’s for just an instant.

“You’re Jack James. You’re Rebecca’s father.”

Shut up!

“You fought for the end of the war, for a world where Rebecca could bring children into the world without having to hide them away in tunnels.”

Stop!

Dylan thought of Rebecca, flooding her mind with memories of her friend, memories that included Wyatt and Stiles and Josephine, memories that showed Jack his daughter with her children…with Harry. Memories of good times, of laughter and happy tears and all the things that define a good life.

Jack fought her, his soul squeezing at hers, trying to control what went on in her mind, to make her stop. But the harder he fought, the more intense the memories became. Finally, Jack pulled out of her body, but then he touched her and something like an electric shot burst through her body. The last thing she remembered before falling to the ground was Jack’s voice in her head:

I will take the orb. And I will rule these pathetic fools. I will have my revenge.

When Dylan was next conscious, she was no longer in her earthly form, but ethereal and floating in the beautiful garden that marked the outer borders of heaven. She didn’t feel the same overwhelming sense of happiness she’d felt the last time she was here. She felt concern. She moved among the bushes, the trees, and flowers of so many varieties and species that she had never seen most of them. She brushed against the petals of one flower and watched as pollen spilled like fairy dust over the ground below. Immediately, more flowers sprang up like some sort of magic.

Dylan.

She turned and recognized Wyatt even though he was no longer in a form she knew. He, like Rebecca had been the last time she visited here, was in a smoky sort of form that looked like her Wyatt, like the Wyatt she met on that long ago afternoon beside a river. He was young again, standing tall and proud as he had back then, his hair full and thick again, his smile as bright as it ever was on those rare occasions when he shared it with her back then.

It hurt to see him.

You don’t belong here, Dylan.

“I miss you,” she said as she rushed to him, as their smoky forms melded together and became like one. “I miss you so much.”

I know. But you have to be strong.

“I don’t want this, Wyatt. I want things to go back to the way they were. I want you and Josephine, I want our family back together, like we were years ago when Jo was just a baby. I want—”

But it isn’t about what you want anymore. It’s about the people. It’s about everything we fought for during the war.

“We fought so that we could be together.”

We fought so that humanity could survive. And, thanks to you, they did. But now they need you to make sure they stay on the right path.

Dylan pulled away from Wyatt, emotion churning visibly in her ethereal colors. “You never wanted this. You never understood—”

Things are different here, Dylan. I understand things in a way that I was incapable of understanding before. And you…I was so blessed to have you in my life. You are so much more than anyone knew, even Stiles. You are powerful in ways that will surprise even you. I never…

“Never what?”

I never should have held you back. I never should have tried to corral you. You are a true savior, Dylan. And you must embrace that.
He moved toward her.
You should also know that you are not alone. You are never alone. You have the full support of every soul here. Jimmy, Rebecca, souls you loved, souls you protected, and souls you never met…they’re all determined to help you live up to your purpose. And the angels…

Wyatt moved closer to her, happiness swirling in his aura even as she read it in the expression on his face.

Where you go, I go,
he said.
The meaning has changed, but the spirit is still there. I love you, Dylan, perhaps more now than ever before. I will no longer be selfish and keep you from your purpose. But I will guide you and support you as best as I can. I will always be here for you.

Dylan moved into him and took solace from the feel of his presence mixed with hers. But then something changed in him.

              There is a man who will come into your life soon. He is not what he seems, but he has knowledge you will need. Just…be very careful around him.

“What about this whole soul mate thing? Can’t you—”

No, Dylan. It must be someone capable of sharing the burden with you, someone who has abilities that can complement and support yours. It has to be an angel.

“I don’t know if I want to be connected to someone else.”

You also don’t want to do this alone. It’s too much for just one person. You need that support, that link that will help you get through the daily fight. You and I…we will always be connected, Dylan. But you need a soul mate.

Dylan nodded. She’d been prepared for his answer and had known this was how it would be. That didn’t stop her from being disappointed and hurt.

“Who?” She looked at Wyatt, afraid of what he would say, but needing to hear it anyway.

When Dylan touched the orb, she discovered that her connection to Stiles didn’t necessarily require her to pick him as her soul mate. Until the moment she was connected to her soul mate, the choice was hers. She could choose Stiles. Or she could choose Raphael or one of his many soldiers. She could choose a random angel she’d never actually met, or she could choose one who’d been banished to heaven for several millennia for fighting on Luc’s side in the war. As long as it was an angel, she could choose anyone. Powers didn’t matter. Raphael was working under the impression that it had to be an archangel—and, normally, it probably should be—but she was different. Her powers would allow for any angel to survive a connection to her.

So she had a choice to make.

Dylan woke suddenly in her bed in Rachel’s house.

“She’s back.”

“Thank God!”

Rachel leaned over her, concern in her wide eyes.

“What are you doing?” Dylan asked, brushing her aside as she sat up. A wave of dizziness hit as she did, making her stomach roll unpleasantly. She immediately sat back down, tears stinging her eyes.

“We found you passed out on the street,” Rachel said. “Raphael said you weren’t…that you weren’t in your body?”

Raphael moved into Dylan’s line of sight, a worried frown on his handsome face. “You were injured, a brain injury that seemed to have been inflicted from some strong power. I healed you, but you didn’t wake right away. That’s when I realized your soul was elsewhere.”

“I was with Wyatt.”

Rachel’s eyes softened. “Oh, Dylan,” she said softly. “Are you okay?”

Dylan sat up, a little slower this time. “Stiles?”

“He’s still at the dance. We didn’t want to bother him,” Rachel said quite quickly.

Dylan, of course, knew why they didn’t want to bother him. The last time she saw him, he was dancing with Carrie or Caryn or whatever her name is. It wasn’t as if Stiles took much time to relax.

“What happened?” Raphael asked.

“It was that demon, Jack James. He believes if he can possess me, like his demons do all those people, that he can control the orb.”

“He tried again?”

Raphael looked sharply at Rachel. “What do you mean, again?”

“He did it at Joanna’s house,” Dylan said. “But I was able to shake him off.”

“And tonight?”

“I showed him memories of Rebecca. It disoriented him enough to make him back off.”

“You showed him memories?” Rachel asked.

“Yeah. He was trying to attach himself to my soul. I could see his thoughts, his memories, and he could see mine. So I showed him my memories of Rebecca to try to get him to see that everything worked out the way he’d wanted it to when he was alive. But, like before, it didn’t help.”

“You just made him angry, I’m guessing,” Raphael said.

Dylan nodded. “He’s a tough one. It’s going to take more than a little one-on-one counseling to get him to let go of his darkness.”

“Until we can, this war will continue to wage,” Rachel said.

It was an understatement. Figuring out how to stop Jack James was the key to everything. But Dylan was no closer to figuring it out now than she had been a year ago when she first confronted these demons with Stiles.

There was high pitched, female laughter in the hallway. Rachel went to the door and peeked.

“It’s Stiles. Do you want me to get him?”

Dylan shook her head. He wasn’t hiding his thoughts from her. She knew he wasn’t alone and she knew he wasn’t planning on being alone for the rest of the night. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit that the idea of him taking a human lover didn’t hurt. But it didn’t surprise her. She’d made him wait much longer than she ever should have. Was it any surprise that he was ready to move on without her?