“Hello?” I forced a strong voice into the receiver and hoped he couldn’t tell something was wrong.

“Where are you?” he demanded, not sounding happy. “Are you Ok?”

It was completely quiet where he was, no background noise or music or anything. I decided he was either standing outside Lincoln’s house or he had already hopped inside his truck.

“I’m fine….” I lied, well, it wasn’t exactly a lie. I would be fine. There wasn’t anything for him to worry about. “Things were getting kind of out of control there, I thought it would help if I got out of the way,” I offered, hoping he would leave it at that.

“Things did get a little crazy,” he relented, the sound of disappointment clear in his tone. “So you’re at home?”

“Yeah, in bed actually….”

“Want some company?” his voice turned low and husky and I knew he only meant on the roof outside my room, but that didn’t stop the warm tingle from spreading across my belly.

“Mmmm…. not tonight,” I sighed. “Hey did you see Piper before you left? Was she Ok?”

“Yeah, she was Ok,” Tristan laughed, and I decided I did not like his tone.

“That sounds ominous,” I pried.

“It’s not any of my business,” Tristan replied, pretending to be a gentleman but I could hear the amusement lacing every word.

“You better spill it, Tristan Davis Shields,” I growled, not in the mood to play games.

“It’s not a big deal, it’s just that, well some people make war and some people make love,” he laughed again and I had to stop myself from inviting him over just so I could slap him.

“What does that mean?” I screeched.

“You better ask Piper,” Tristan sobered, sounding sincere.

“Is this about Lincoln?” I demanded, my face flushing with the idea of what she could have been manipulated into doing tonight by the influence of the Shadows. Not that teenagers didn’t come to these kinds of decisions all the time on their own, but Piper would have needed an extra push tonight. Maybe not even Piper…. Lincoln would have needed an extra push! They barely knew each other and Lincoln was way too shy to suggest something like that to Piper on a whim. “Just give it to me in movie ratings.”

“Definitely PG-13,” Tristan answered back immediately, probably to reassure me more than anything. “It was worse than a Disney tween musical, but they were still on the stairs…. in front of everyone.”

“In front of everyone?” I groaned, hating the Darkness even more for Piper’s sake.

“Uh, yeah….” there was no sugar coating it and Tristan knew that.

“What about you? Did you get into any extra trouble?” I was afraid of the answer.

“Who me?” Tristan barked out a laugh. “You should know me better than that.”

“Mmmm-hmmm….” I sighed, and then rubbed my eyes. “I do know you, and that’s exactly why I’m worried!”

“Goodnight, Stella,” his voice dropped to that husky timber again and I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face.

“Goodnight, Tristan,” I replied softly, hanging up the phone and laying my head back against the pillow. Oh that boy….

----

Sunlight streamed in through my windows and rested over me in a blanket of comfort and warmth. The daylight energized me, gave me strength again and reminded me that this planet was still surrounded by the Army of Heaven not willing to let the Darkness succeed. I stretched my arms above my head and felt the pull of too-tight muscles and the still sore scars that painted my back. But I was better, the cold, numbing feeling was gone and the light inside of me pumped with my blood giving me natural warmth and comfort.

A knock at my door had me reaching for the covers and pulling them up to my neck. I shifted to a sitting position in bed, and smiled as Seth flung the door open not even waiting for my response.

“Hey,” he wore that wide grin I was growing used to. He leaned against the door frame, holding a tray of food in his hands. “So…. I thought you could use some comfort food to finish the healing process.”

He walked toward me and a jilt of excitement jumpstarted my heart into an excited frenzy. “Are those chocolate chip pancakes?” I squealed.

“Yes, but don’t get too excited,” his smile wavered and I paused at his rare display of insecurity. “They’re not Annabelle’s or anything, but I tried. Although I may have gone overboard with the chocolate chips….”

Seth set the tray on my lap and I took in the almost black, thin, circles…. circle-ish breakfast items and had to bite back a smile. He had attempted to gussy up the dish by adding fresh strawberries and a glop of whipped cream, but underneath the garnishes were dense, black oblong shapes that kind of gave me the shivers when I thought about actually digesting one of them.

“Seth, this looks…. uh, this looks great,” I smiled up at him, still bleary eyed from sleep, my voice raspy and hoarse.

He tipped the bottle of syrup my way and his smile grew. I couldn’t disappoint him so I obliged by pouring a copious amount of syrup over Seth’s “creation” and dove in. Seth stood next to my bed, rocking back and forth on his toes, bouncing up and down with barely contained energy.

“Well, what do you think?” he asked, while I still chewed through my first bite.

“Um….” I stalled, swallowing the excessively rich, disturbingly thick bite. “It’s really…. really…. chocolaty!” I finished enthusiastically, trying to make it sound like a compliment.

“I know it’s not like Annabelle’s, but I-“ he started fidgeting, and his nervous mannerisms were in such contrast to his perfect face and usual confidence that I couldn’t let him worry about them any longer.

“I love them!” I declared, cutting another huge bite off with my fork. “Seriously, Seth, this is exactly what I need to finish recovery. Thank you.”

His charming smile became self-assured again and his skin let off that soft glow that told me he believed me. I shoved the overly large, overly sweet bite of pancakes into my mouth and made a moaning sound to solidify my point.

I decided on the second bite that I could eat at least half the pile, and make it worth his effort. They weren’t…. bad…. they were just really, really sugary, and dense…. and not very pancake like at all. They were more like edible bites of a cement pastry; but it was possibly the most adorable gesture ever.

“So you’re feeling better?” Seth asked, his eyes narrowing into speculative slits.

“For the most part, yeah. I mean, I’m a little sore and tight, but I don’t feel like death anymore,” I smiled up at him, cutting another bite and popping it energetically into my mouth.

“Good….” Seth mumbled, although it didn’t sound like he was all that thrilled. “Because Jupiter wants to train again. I told him you probably weren’t up for it, but he is being pretty stubborn. But if you’re still sore, then it probably isn’t a good idea and I can tell him he will have to wait another day.”

I could feel how concerned Seth was for me in more than his expressive eyes and glowing skin; there was this connection between us, like an invisible cord that tied us together. I could feel his concern, deep in my bones. I could sense his anxiety over my injuries, his fear over pushing me too hard. It was all there, all between us. We were bonded and because of that I knew I had to get out of bed and train. As comfortable as I was with Seth and as flattered by his concern as I was, I knew I had to become a better fighter so that I could erase these emotions for him. He couldn’t be a better fighter unless I was a better fighter.

Plus training meant I had a legitimate excuse not to finish the entire plate of pancakes.

“No, it’s Ok,” I replied confidently. “I need to train, Jupiter’s right. The Darkness isn’t going to stop and so I can’t either. I was sloppy and slow last night, and I can’t ever be that unprepared again. They know by now who I am and what I’m capable of…. or really, what I’m not capable of. Next time they send their spies, I want to send them away terrified.” I smiled up at Seth and pushed forward all of my courage. What I was saying was true, but I wasn’t sure if I believed it was possible yet.

“We will,” Seth assured me. “Serena and Nate are going to train too, while they’re still here. It will be a good opportunity for us, since neither of us have really had hand to hand combat with another Angel.”

“What? Are you saying you don’t count fighting me as real hand to hand combat?” I gasped, pretending to be offended.

“Not when I go so easy on you,” he gave me an impish grin and moved to the door.

“That stops today!” I yelled at his retreating figure.

“I know,” he called back, but I could still feel his anxiety over me as he made his way down the stairs.

I shook my head, and pushed the tray of food off me before climbing slowly out of bed and ambling over to my closet. I was wide awake now, but my body still felt the aftereffects of battle. I stretched nice and long and then picked out some workout clothes that would let me move freely. By the time I had thrown my hair up in a ponytail and made my way downstairs, Serena, Nathaniel, Seth and Jupiter were all waiting for me.

“Finally,” Jupiter grumbled, turning his back on me and walking straight out the back door. He carried two oversized canvas, black bags with him that folded in half, coming together at the handles: the sword bags.

“Good morning,” Serena smiled slowly at me. I had met her briefly last night and was surprised at her other-worldliness then; in the light of morning her sharp, angled features and ethereal complexion were even more staggering. Serena was from a post outside of this galaxy, but had been chosen to be the temporary Protector until I turned eighteen. She had long, flowing orange hair and startling blue eyes, the color of the ocean around a coral reef. Her skin, which was clear and porcelain, radiated light without much effort at all and her willowy frame towered over me gracefully. To me, she was clearly an Angel and humanity would hardly know what to make of her should she meet them. As far as blending in went, she was an odd choice, but her skill and experience on the battlefield preceded her loudly. I wondered for a moment why they were handing over Earth to me so soon, when she was clearly capable for the job.

“Good morning, Serena,” I smiled, disturbingly intimidated. “Good morning, Nathaniel.”

“Nate, remember?” the Warrior corrected, offering me his hand. Nate was a lot like Seth in looks, with dark, unruly hair and a severely muscular face. But where Seth had shades of mystery and mischief, Nate was all goodness and light. His gray eyes sparkled like granite and his matured frame boasted years on the battle field.

“Right, good morning, Nate,” I corrected, smiling a little more easily. He wasn’t quite so intimidating, but it wasn’t his shoes I was going to have to fill.