I set my plate on the table next to Reed’s as he pulls my chair out for me. “Better?” he asks when I am seated.

“Much. Thank you,” I say, smiling at him. This is better. It’s intimate and cozy, more personal.

“I have never eaten in here. It is nice,” he comments before gazing around the room as he takes in the scenery.

With an expression of amazement, I say, “You’ve never eaten in here? Reed, you are baffling. I keep trying to figure out what you are doing here.”

“I told you what I’m doing here,” he replies, picking up his fork again and continuing with his meal.

“I don’t mean the smoting thing. Or is it smiting? Anyway, no I mean, why are you at Crestwood? It hardly seems to be a big draw for demons,” I say.

“It is not, and that is why I’m here. I don’t like to just run across them when I’m not prepared to fight them. That is why I chose Crestwood. It lacks the, what were your words, draw for demons?” he asks smiling. He becomes serious though, when he says, “No, Crestwood is not a place the Fallen find interesting. That makes it a sanctuary, Evie. If you want to avoid them, you find the places they don’t like. I wish to avoid them when I’m not hunting them, so that I do not have to be in a constant state of vigilance.”

“Why don’t the bad angels come to Crestwood? I mean, I would think that fallen angels could recruit at schools,” I point out.

“The Fallen can at most schools, but Crestwood is different. There is not much of nightlife in this sleepy town and there is almost nothing to do here other than study. That is not very conducive to sin. Quite frankly, it is boring here,” he smiles.

“It’s not boring,” I say incredulously, thinking of the past few days.

“It is not boring with you around,” Reed amends with a grin.

“So, when you are looking for demons, please excuse the trite terminology, demon hunting, where do you go?” I ask. It sounds like such an absurd question when I say it out loud.

“The Fallen are drawn to the prison that is located a couple of towns away, in Jackson. They enjoy extreme suffering,” Reed explains. “They enjoy watching a soul in torment, and some of the prisoners have already shown a weakness for evil.”

My eyebrow rises as I ask, “Really? So the suffering going on inside the prison attracts them, like bait, and you send them back to Hell…uhh the abyss place, is that it?”

“Some make it back to Sheol and some do not,” he says offhandedly.

“What do you mean, some do not?” I ask in a puzzled tone.

“I mean, some of the Fallen just cease to be,” he says. “Since angels do not have souls, there is no chance to be redeemed. The Fallen will never be allowed into Paradise again. But if they survive, they could go back to Sheol, theoretically. I try not to let that happen.”

“Could that happen to you?” I ask in fear. “Could one of the Fallen kill you?”

“It will not happen to me. I am extremely good at what I do,” Reed replies confidently. “I succeed because I know myself and I know my enemy.”

“But, it’s a possibility?” I ask doggedly, scanning his face for his response.

“Genevieve, since I have met you, I am beginning to believe that anything is possible, and now I have more of an incentive to maintain my advantage,” Reed says gently. I feel off-kilter for a moment as I think of losing Reed. What would an eternity be like for me knowing that I would never see him again? I shudder, and fear must show on my face because Reed frowns as he asks, “What is wrong, Evie?”

“I don’t want you to be a soldier anymore. Can you do something else?” I ask him softly.

Reed’s eyes widen. “Why?” he asks in surprise.

“Because, Reed, I’m sure you’re very good at what you do, but there always seems to be something bigger and badder out there, and I can’t—how would I—I don’t know how to grieve for an eternity,” I say worriedly, looking down at my plate.

Reed’s eyes soften. “Evie, I don’t know whether to be extremely offended that you think I’m so weak that I would allow myself to be taken by one of them, or to be pleased that you would mourn for me,” he replies with a smile.

Pushing what is left of my food around on my plate, I say in a small voice, “It’s just that it seems like eternity would be very dull without you. But, you know, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad not to have someone around who enjoys ordering me around.” I finish with a pout. “I’ll bet you’d end up being really annoying anyway.”

“What would you have me do?” he asks, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“Retire, isn’t there a pension plan for someone like you? I mean, you’re like older than the hills. It might be time to hang it up, pal, maybe take up golf or something,” I say agitatedly. “What are your hobbies? Let’s see if we can find you something else to do,” I add, crossing my arms in front of me.

“I cannot do that. This is my purpose. I have been sent to do this job, and I will do it,” he says calmly but firmly.

“Then, I’ll be a hunter, too. You can teach me to be a soldier, and I’ll help you,” I reply. If he intends to be out there endangering himself, then I’ll go too and try to make sure that he comes back to me.

“No,” he says flatly, and I can tell that he thinks by saying this it’ll end the conversation.

“Why not?” I fire back.

“There is too much risk for you,” he says patiently.

My eyebrow arches. “Now there is, but what about when I change—evolve—whatever I’m going to do?” I challenge his logic.

“No,” he says more firmly.

“Reed, if you can risk being ended, then I can, too,” I reply evenly.

He stands then, and reaching over to my chair, he pulls it from the table with me still in it. He turns it so that we’re facing each other, then he crouches down to look directly into my eyes.

“You are too young to understand what you are asking me to do. You have not seen violence on the scale necessary to defeat the enemy. You are so innocent; it is difficult for me even to taint that with what I must tell you, in order to help you understand what you are—what is happening to you. It is becoming more and more difficult for me not to insist that you come and stay with me here, but that would pose its own set of dangers to you,” he says, and I am intelligent enough to know he is speaking about himself as the threat, given our attraction for one another.

Reed continues, “My need for a positional advantage has to be weighed with the circumstances of our attraction. So, we need to discuss some rules for you that will help to protect you.”

“Rules?” I reply, wrinkling my nose. “That sounds grody. I’d much rather talk about something else,” I say, leaning forward and wrapping my arms around his neck. I rest my forehead against his.

He groans as if in pain, “Evie, you don’t know what you do to me.”

He closes his eyes and stands slowly, pulling me up out of the chair with him. My arms stay linked around his neck as my body presses against him. He bends his head down to lightly brush his lips to the sensitive skin just under my ear. To say it pleases me would be ridiculous in its simplicity. His arms tighten around my waist as his fingers softly caress my skin where my shirt hitched up. I want more, crave it, but it’s my turn to groan in pain when Reed gently, but firmly, pulls back from our embrace.

His eyebrow rises as he asks, “What was I saying?”

“I don’t know, let’s not worry about it now,” I reply, looking at his broad chest and toying with one of the buttons of his collared shirt.

“Evie,” he says roughly.

“Reed,” I breathe.

“You are not helping me,” he scolds lightly.

“I know,” I rest my head against his chest.

“Rules,” he says firmly.

“Fine,” I say, stepping back from him. “You can tell me what you’re thinking, but I’m not agreeing to anything.”

“Evie, this is for your protection,” he tells me in a gentle tone.

“We’ll see. What did you have in mind?” I ask.

“I want to know if you choose to leave Crestwood for any reason, even if it is to go to one of the neighboring towns. Stay out of bars and taverns,” he says, stern. “No Seven-Eleven without me and nothing remotely dangerous,” he finishes in a bland tone.

“That last one is vague,” I reply.

“Genevieve,” Reed sighs in response to my objection.

A small smile touches my lips. “What? It’s vague, and when a rule is vague, it begs to be broken,” I say, defending my position. “Let me recap: if I want to leave town I need to check with you, no bars, and no Seven-Eleven alone,” I say while ticking his list off on my fingers.

“Nothing dangerous,” he reminds me.

“Okay, no running with scissors,” I say, smiling up at him while adding another finger.

Reed’s eyes narrow, “Genevieve, you have to take this seriously,” he says with authority.

“I’m trying, Reed. It’s just that I’ve been raised to be independent. My Uncle Jim trusted me implicitly. I rarely needed permission to do anything, and for the most part, he was right to trust me,” I explain.

“I expect you to try very hard to be good,” he says.

My eyebrow arches. “Or else what?” I challenge, wondering just what he has in mind if I fracture a rule or two.

“I believe in positive reinforcement, rather than negative,” he says with a sexy smile as he traces my lips with the tip of his finger, leaving a scalded path where he touches me.

“That’s very sensible of you,” I reply as a shiver that has nothing to do with fear runs the length of my body.

Reed lifts his finger from my lips with a reluctant smile. “We should get going now. We both have practice,” he sighs, but his eyes remain sultry as if he is plotting some forms of positive reinforcement. “I just have to change, then I will take you to your room to meet your friends.” I am disappointed that our dinner is over; I want more time with him. “I will just be a moment,” Reed says, and true to his word he is gone.

I hardly see him move because it has been a heartbeat— a blink—my eyes only catch a vague impression of him. I am alone in the kitchen in an instant. Startled, I sit down in the chair behind me. I don’t have long to wait for him; it is maybe ten seconds before he just materializes in front of me again.

The smile on his face shows the depth of his amusement over my astonishment. He had changed into his practice uniform and has his equipment in tow. It would’ve taken me thirty seconds just to reach the front door of his house, let alone to get upstairs where I assume his bedroom is.

“That was quick,” I say, understating the obvious.

Reed’s smile is ethereal. “It’s nice not having to hide what I am, or what I can do, from you. It pleases me that you are not afraid of me,” he says, extending his hand to me to help me rise from my seat.

My heart hammers in my chest, seeing his smile. “Will I be able to move that quickly?” I ask as we leave the kitchen on the way to the front door.

“Probably,” he says with a shrug.

“Uh oh,” I reply, thinking that having that kind of ability could pose some problems for me.

“What?” he asks in concern.

My forehead wrinkles as I admit, “Well, I had a hard time pretending to limp when my knee was supposed to be bruised. I can just see me forgetting not to just pop off when I’m late for class or something.”

Reed takes my hand to reassure me. “You need to cultivate an awareness of your surroundings and everything that exists within them. After awhile, it will become second nature to you,” he says.

“I might have a hard time with that because the only thing I seem to be aware of is you,” I say, blushing at the admission of such an embarrassing fact.

“That is going to be a struggle for both of us,” he states plainly. “I, too, lose sight of my surroundings when you are near. It is a danger we will have to overcome because it makes us vulnerable to the enemies.”

He opens the front door for me, and we walk out to his car. When I am seated, I hear a beep coming from my bag I’d left in the car. Finding my cell phone inside, I check the missed calls; there is one call from Russell and one call from Freddie. Dialing my voicemail, the first message should be from Russell, but when I listen to it, it is just a clicking sound, indicating that the caller had hung up without leaving a message. I cringe, wondering what our next conversation would be like. It will be brutal for both of us; there is no doubt.

The next message is from Freddie. He had missed me at lunch and dinner and is worried about me. I debate whether or not to call Russell back. Holding my phone to my lips absently, I stare out the window, watching the town of Crestwood float by me. Our next conversation has to be in person.

“Russell call?” Reed asks as if he is all knowing despite his protestations.

“Yes,” I reply, not knowing what to say.

“What did he say?” he asks me with concern.

“Nothing, he hung up.” I don’t lie. What would be the point?

“I see,” he says sympathetically.

“Do you?” I ask in surprise at his tone. I expected a different reaction from him.

“Yes. I’m sorry,” he says simply.

“So am I,” I reply sadly.

“What will you tell him?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I answer him honestly.

“Evie, you do not have to make any decisions now. You have time to figure out what you want,” Reed says softly again, and his concern for my feelings makes me want to cry.

“Reed, I’ve put some thought into it already. If what you said comes to pass, then what kind of a life could I possibly have with Russell?” I ask sadly. “If I become as strong as you are, I would run the same risks that you have with me now, only I probably won’t have the restraint that the millenniums here on Earth have taught you. I would probably end up crushing Russell without meaning to.”

“Yes,” he agrees evenly, but he sounds as if he doesn’t think that would be such a bad thing to do to Russell.

“Then, there is the fact that Russell will age while I will not. What will happen to him when people start thinking he’s a dirty old man for being with such a young girl?” I ask. “He probably wouldn’t be too thrilled about that after a while.”

“True,” Reed says sagely, but he looks as if the thought of Russell growing old is rather a funny one.

“And then, there is you. Even if I chose Russell, I don’t think I would be able to be…” I trail off, not wanting to explain.

“To be what?” he asks curiously.

“To be faithful to him,” I reply, blushing. “It’s like no one else exists when you’re around.” Reed reaches over at my words and grasps my hand. Bringing it to his lips, he kisses it. “So, I don’t know what I’ll say to him,” I explain quietly, turning again to stare out the window, not seeing any of the scenery going by.

When Reed speaks again, it is in his angelic language that I don’t understand. It comforts me with its sweetly lilting melody, and I feel calmer when he finishes.

“What did you say?” I ask him serenely.

“The same thing I told you when you were in my car with me after your premonition,” Reed replies quietly as his eyes meet mine, making my breath catch a little.