Day of Sacrifice
By S.W. Benefiel


Published by S. W. Benefiel at Smashwords.
Copyright © 2010 S. W. Benefiel
All rights reserved.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.


The Prophecy


Flora opened her eyes just in time to see the wide, pink, unlined palm of her Guardian Angel swinging toward her face. Not again. Rolling onto her back, she felt the force of the near smack as it blew her bangs back off of her forehead. Her Guardian may be quick, but Flora’s instincts were pretty flawless, even when she was hung over. From her position on the plush carpet of the hotel suite floor, she grinned up at Maggie, a sinister giggle escaping from the corner of her mouth.
“I quit,” Maggie yelled, the power of her voice making the crystal chandelier quiver. “You’re the most insufferable Sacrifice I’ve ever been assigned to. You were responsible for your mother’s death, do you want to destroy the rest of your family with your immature antics?”
“That’s a low blow and you know it. Fauna and I can’t help it that our being born caused our mom to go off the deep end and kill herself.” Gods her head hurt. “And my ‘antics’ aren’t always immature.” Like nine times outta ten, sure, but...
“I don’t want to hear your excuses.” The Guardian spat, cursing Flora, a tiny globule of foam landing near her left ear.
“C’mon, Mags, don’t get your wings in a bunch. I’m almost twenty-one. I’ve got to live life to its fullest while I can. I’ll be dead in three days.” Flora sat up, hoping Maggie was done trying to inspire respectability in her through violence. 
Her head was pounding and her mouth tasted and felt like a badger died in it. She struggled to remember the exact details of last night’s party. The suite was trashed. Two marble tables were upended, Champagne bottles strewn across every surface that had remained upright, and the hot tub overflowed with magenta soap bubbles. The sight of the bubbles kicked a flash of memory loose in her head. She slowly looked down at her body. Yeah, not so much wearing any clothes. Uh-oh.
She met Maggie’s furious gaze. “Okay, I can see how this looks,” Flora said, attempting to sound reasonable. Guardians loved reason. “But, I’m still a virgin.” She took a brief physical inventory. Yup, still feeling virginal. 
Maggie threw a cushy light-blue hotel robe at her charge. “Don’t waste your words on me Flora, you’ve disobeyed and embarrassed me one too many times. I put in for a transfer after your last debauched incident and it came through this morning.” She flexed her majestic iridescent white wings once, rising a foot off of the floor. “May the Gods have mercy on my replacement Guardian, the next three days until your Day of Sacrifice will be the longest of their eternal life.”  She shot Flora one last disgusted glare and disappeared.



Julian held out the black ceremonial robe embroidered with sacred images in gold and silver thread. After a moment, he dropped it over Aiden’s shoulders when his charge didn’t put forth the effort to slip his arms into the sleeves. They were standing in Aiden’s bedroom before a full-length mirror, his parents waiting downstairs to accompany them to his Day of Sacrifice. Aiden was Julian’s seventh charge. It never got easier. They’d all made it to their twenty-first birthdays and to their Day of Sacrifice ceremonies under his guidance. He’d helped prepare them all for slaughter, delivered the same speech to seven terrified young men.
“Hold your head up high. Your sacrifice to the Gods on this day will allow your family to thrive. They will gain the favor of the Gods. You have lived a good life and I have been proud to be your Guardian.”
Aiden swiped the back of his hand across his eyes, causing the robe to slide from one shoulder. Julian quickly pushed it back up. 
“Thank you for protecting me,” Aiden said, trying to choke back the next round of tears. “You’ve been a wonderful Guardian and a good friend.” He stared at his reflection in the mirror and put the ceremonial robe on, tying the front closed over his naked body. He squared his shoulders. “I’m ready.”



Flora got up carefully from the floor, clutching the robe to her bare chest, fighting the vomit making its way up her throat. She was viciously hung over and pissed that yet another Guardian Angel had given up on her. They didn’t understand what it was to be your family’s Sacrifice, to be born to die. Sure, Guardians should be allowed to be a little grumpy, they did have to spend their entire lives looking after Sacrifices until their twenty-first birthdays, their DOS as she liked to call it, but at least they never had to die. 
No one but another first born of a Supernatural family could know what it was like. The responsibility was placed on their shoulders from their first breath. Some Supernaturals bore the birthright better than others, werewolves in particular. Having been born with an intrinsic bond to their pack, they prided themselves on accepting their fate with honor. 
Vampires had it the easiest. Since they couldn’t reproduce, all they had to do was turn one human virgin every twenty-one years, releasing their pure soul to the Gods. Of course, by their nature, they turned a human more often than once every twenty-one years. More like every twenty-one months. The Gods’ favor shone greatly on them.
Witches, like Flora, Sorcerers, Shamans, anyone who appeared human and had to use magic to wield power, their treatment of the Sacrifices could be called indifferent.
Although they didn’t have to go to school or learn magic or do anything for themselves- they could eat and drink and shop and watch TV until their eyes bled, as long as they remained alive with their virginity intact for their DOS- the life of a Sacrifice still wasn’t easy. If they didn’t live up to their end of the bargain, and few had ever dared to test this theory, they were hunted down by assassins and killed. Their family would be stripped of their supernatural abilities by the Gods and shunned by the community. Essentially, they were rendered human.
A shiver ran through Flora as she stepped under the hot stream of water cascading from a hidden spigot in the shower ceiling. She lathered her straight shoulder length black hair with lavender shampoo, taking in deep breaths of the scent, concentrating on bringing herself back to a normal, healthy, well-rested state. She muttered a brief healing incantation. Just because she hadn’t been required to go to school and learn magic, didn’t mean that she hadn’t.
Rejuvenated from her shower, she ran her hands over her body, dressing in jeans and a green hooded sweatshirt. The outfit was the complete opposite of the thigh baring red mini-dress she’d been wearing at Aiden Grant’s pre-DOS party last night. Well, at least what she’d been wearing before the hot tub incident.
She did a quick magical sweep of the hotel suite, righting the tables, dropping all the Champagne bottles into a recycling bin in the kitchenette, draining the hot tub of its scummy magenta water.
Now all she had to do was wait for Maggie to come back and guard her until her replacement showed up. No matter how much Maggie disliked Flora, she was breaking major protocol by leaving her unattended. All the Guardians got angry when Sacrifices had parties, especially DOS parties, fearing that they were all going to die of alcohol poisoning or drug overdoses, or do something crazy like take turns deflowering each other. But usually after the Guardians had given the Sacrifices a stern talking to, perhaps a swift slap in the face, they came back around and business proceeded as usual.
Flora flopped down on the couch and turned the TV on. Aiden’s sacrifice would be on soon, and while she detested attending DOS events, she could be more detached, more studied, watching it on TV. She wasn’t the only one that was that way. What all Sacrifices desired, besides having never been born, was to not look scared when they were strapped to the stone altar in the middle of the city square. Not to cry out in pain as their major arteries were sliced open with the ritual knife. Not to be betrayed by their bloody naked bodies on display. Complete composure. Dignity. The Sacrifices watched the ones that came before them and challenged themselves to do the same or better.
Settling into the corner of the couch, she checked the messages on her cell. Aiden’s procession into the square began. There were seven messages from her twin sister Fauna-Flora’s name was the only bullet she’d dodged, seeing as she was born a minute before, thus becoming her family’s Sacrifice and Fauna becoming what her parents considered to be their oldest child.
“Hey, Flor,” Fauna said, genuine concern in her voice, “I really need to tell you something. Please give me a call as soon as you get this. It is very important!”
Flora listened to the next three messages. They were all like the first and imparted no more information. She wondered why her sister wouldn’t just tell her what it was she wanted to tell her and get it over with. Fauna was a bit of a drama queen when it came to her, guilt-induced she sometimes thought, and could make a big deal out of her getting a paper cut. 
By the fourth message, it seemed Fauna had figured out Flora wasn’t going to pick up. “Fuck you! Seriously. I know you’re at Aiden’s party and I would come and find you if anyone would ever let us non-Sacrifices in the loop. But no, you guys...” She sighed. “Okay, it is your right to have something that the rest of us can’t be a part of, I get it. But you’re my fucking twin and I need you to call me back. I love you!”
The next three messages came hours later, after midnight, presumably while Flora was passed out. She dialed her sister without listening to them, if Fauna had said the word fuck twice and let herself be recorded saying it, what she needed to tell Flora had to be important.
Fauna answered her phone, whispering. “Thank Gods. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, looking away from the television and a close up of Aiden’s face, his expression blank. “How are you? You sound like you’re having an epic conniption.”
Ignoring her remark, Fauna lowered her voice even more if that was possible. “Where are you?”
“At the Genevieve. I’m watching Aiden’s--”
“Who else is with you?”
“Uh, no one. What’s with you?”
“Tell Maggie you’ve got to get out of there now and get into hiding.”
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean, ‘you can’t’,” she hissed, “let me talk to her.”
“Maggie quit and her replacement hasn’t arrived yet.”
“Oh, crap. Get out of there now! Don’t come home, uh, go someplace public, go to Aiden’s ceremony.”
“That is the last place I’m going. Will you tell me what’s happening?” She stood up from the couch and searched for her shoes. She spotted the high heeled boots she’d been wearing the night before and quickly cast, changing them into tennis shoes. “You’re freaking me out.”
“Some seriously bad stuff went down at work yesterday.” Fauna had been working at their father’s company as a junior accountant for a little over a year. Seeing as Flora didn’t have a future, her father hadn’t bothered to offer her a job. Not that she wanted to be a boring-ass junior accountant, marketing was more her thing, but it would have been nice if he’d offered. 
Fauna continued. “Dad...he had a business deal with Robert Fitzgerald that went south. The Fitzgeralds’ next Sacrifice isn’t of age for another six years.”
Meaning that they would get little help from the Gods to keep their manufacturing business profitable and that none of the other Supernatural families would want to enter into dealings with them.
“And that has what to do with me?” Leaving the television on, she headed toward the suite’s private elevator, jabbing the down button with her thumb. 
“They’ve put a hit on you.” Flora knew that was what her sister was going to say, but she’d had to ask, regardless.
She kicked one of the stainless steel panel doors of the elevator, denting it slightly. It needed to move faster. Now. 



Aiden removed the robe and handed it to Julian, who folded it and placed it at the foot of the Grant family crest. 
Squeezing his fists to his sides, Aiden gave one last stoic nod to his mom and dad and then allowed himself to be led by the High Priest over to the sacrificial stone. He lay down. Julian was standing close enough to him to see that the chill of the stone raised goose bumps on his skin. 
This was always the point in the ceremony when the Guardian wished he could take some sort of action. Beg for his charge’s life or transport them away. He knew what it felt like to die. He’d bled out under a tree during The War against the humans. The Supernatural side had won, but at a great cost to the community. A community that had a short memory and was easily swayed by the Gods. Julian had given his life for them all those years ago, but had been given his soul back when he became a Guardian Angel. Aiden was not so lucky. Soon his pure soul would belong to the Gods and he would exist no more.
The priest strapped his wrists and ankles into the leather restraints and began chanting and moving the dull side of the ritual knife over his body. 



“Gods! What a perfect time for Maggie to decide to leave me!”
“Get somewhere public immediately,” Fauna said, forgetting to keep her voice down. “Call me when you get there and Clark and I will meet you.” She hung up. 
“Well, if this fucking elevator would--” Flora mumbled, kicking the other panel, making a matching dent. The doors wobbled. She stashed her phone in the front pocket of her hoodie and stepped forward, preparing to squeeze inside the opening the moment it was wide enough for her to fit through.
She smelled and felt his vile hot breath on her face before she saw him. Backing away from the elevator as swiftly as she could, Flora cast a locking spell that wasn’t really meant for those types of doors but it would give her a head start. She ran over to the kitchenette in the corner of the room and ducked behind the island, squatting, with her back to the man who’d been hired to kill her.
You heard about these things, one Supernatural family killing another’s Sacrifice, using their death to buy time until a Sacrifice from their bloodline was of age, but she’d never encountered it in her circle of Supernaturals. It was bad form and tended to set off a chain of events that ultimately ruined everyone’s chances of winning the Gods’ favor. The deal between her dad and the Fitzgeralds must have gone farther than South for them to be desperate enough to attempt this.
The man, if that’s what he was, cursed, prying the elevator doors open and stepping into the room. She peeked around the side of the island, running through every possible spell in her head that might benefit the situation. 
The first thing she needed to figure out was what kind of enemy she was up against. The hit man was nearly as tall as he was wide, built like a kitchen appliance, and had long stringy brown hair that hung limply on his shoulders. His eyes were covered with cheesy five dollar gas station sunglasses. A gun dangled from his left hand. He was comfortable with his weapon. His charcoal grey suit was cheap, shiny, and pulled tightly across his belly. He appeared to be human; a rather large, mean human, but if he had any magical abilities at least they would be better matched than he expected. Not having people expect much from you was a Sacrifice’s best defense.
He moved in her direction, his eyes scanning the room. Flora conjured a blue flame in the center of her open palm. Forming the flame into a fireball, she scooted down the front of the island until she was at the end closest to the main living area. Never the best aim, she squeezed her eyes closed and threw the fireball, hoping it landed far enough away from her to create a diversion. The sound of something igniting whooshed in her ears. She opened her eyes to find the couch she’d just been lounging on engulfed in flames, thick grey-brown smoke rolling off of it. Not exactly the subtle distraction she’d been looking for. 
She popped up from behind the island and sprinted toward the elevator. Where the fuck were the stairs in this damn place? She chided herself for leaving that helpful bit of information to the discovery of her Guardian. If she lived past the next minute, she was always going to make sure she was aware of her emergency exits.
The hit man caught her by the arm and yanked her back, throwing her down onto the floor. Leaning over her he planted his gun between her eyes. “It’s such a shame,” he said, his voice full of gravel, “that I have to kill you and you havin’ never had the pleasure of being with a man. ‘Cause you pretty, sweetheart, and I hate to waste an opportunity.”
She brought her fists up in front of her and let him see a tear roll down her cheek. “Please, don’t.”
He clicked the safety off. “Like I said, honey, it’s a shame, but it’s my job.”
As his index finger compressed the trigger, she shot one hand full of fire up into his crotch, grabbing his balls. With her other hand, also alight, she clasped her fingers around the barrel of the gun, heating it until the metal glowed orange.
“Fuck!” he screamed letting go of the gun and stumbling backwards, his cheap grey suit smoldering.
She leapt to her feet, pointing the gun at him. She had no idea how to use it, but he didn’t know that. Backing up to the elevator, she looked over her shoulder to make sure the hit man didn’t have any buddies inside waiting to ambush her. It was clear. Low expectations had saved her ass again.
The overhead sprinklers jolted on as the hit man lurched toward her, his red blistered thighs and nether regions exposed where his clothing had burnt away. She fired the gun and jumped backward into the elevator. She’d missed him completely, the bullet lodging in the ceiling above him. Thrusting her foot out, she pressed all the lower floor buttons on the panel, the emergency alarm, and both the open and close door buttons. Still he came at her, his fury building with each painful step. She fired again. This time Flora didn’t miss. He clawed at his shoulder, screaming in agony. She focused on the elevator panel and poked the button for the lobby. The doors shuddered and came together. 
The car lowered smoothly, dropping to the private penthouse entrance in a hall off of the lobby in less than a minute. She exited and shoved the gun into the nearest trashcan. It may have come in handy just now, but it was more of a danger than a help to her. Walking in as unsuspicious a manner as she could manage, Flora strolled through the lobby and out onto the street.
She scanned the nearby parked cars for anyone that looked like an associate of the guy she’d just burned, but the street was pretty empty. Everyone loved a DOS, the procession, the parties, the spectacle. Fauna was right. She needed to get into a crowd immediately. She started jogging the five blocks to the city center, hoping she appeared to be hurrying because she didn’t want to miss the show. Flora tried not to think of Aiden, her friend since childhood, grinding his teeth together to keep his face expressionless while they cut him open.



The cutting had started. First the jugular, then they would move on to the femoral. It was never very long after that. Julian took Mrs. Grant’s hand. She was sobbing. She had let herself love her son, of course she had. Some Supernatural families had upwards of twelve children just trying to forget the first one they’d had to let go. The Grants had never had any other children. 
Mr. Grant didn’t make a sound. Julian wondered if he was adding up in his head all of the profits his son’s Sacrifice was going to net him.
Julian followed Aiden’s gaze, lifting his eyes slightly to look in the same direction. Was he staring at that cloud?



After running for about ten minutes the streets went from deserted to chaotic. Flora kept her head down and blended in, shouldering her way through the crowd. She figured if being in the crowd was good, being as close to Aiden and the TV cameras that were filming his sacrifice was better. She couldn’t get any more public than that. Straining to see over the people in front of her, she located the banner that flew Aiden’s family crest. The banners were always placed right next to the sacrificial stone. That was where she needed to be.
Her heart thudded in her chest as she drew closer, trying to reconcile what she was about to see with the desire to save her own ass. She hoped he was dead already. 
One final push through the crowd and she was at the rope barrier that had been set up around the perimeter of the city square. Taking a deep breath, Flora made herself look at Aiden laid out on the slab.
His chest rose and fell in stilted breaths. Blood ran down his naked chest and thighs and filled the deep tracks cut into the stone to drain the blood into the sacrificial chalice at its base. He made no sound. He only stared upwards. His family would be proud. They all stood a few feet away from him, watching. His mother was crying hard, holding onto, not Aiden’s father’s hand, but his Guardian Julian’s. Julian had always been with Aiden, no matter what Aiden’s behavior. He let all of the Sacrifices get away with more than he should have, he was cool that way. Like he almost understood what it was like to be one of them. Who would he guard now? 
She dug her phone out of her pocket and called Fauna.
“Are you safe?” she asked, breathless as though she’d been running.
“Yes,” Flora answered. “I’m front and center watching my friend slowly bleed to death, but the bad man isn’t trying to kill me anymore.”
“So, they got to you?” Fauna’s voice went up several octaves.
“Don’t worry sis, I can take care of myself. I fireballed his...uh, balls.”
“You didn’t! Oh, Flora! They’re going to send a posse after you now.”
A zing of fear swept through her. A posse? She hadn’t considered that when she was fricasseeing the hit man. Yeah, she’d really taken care of herself. She’d be better off cuddling up to Aiden and getting her sacrifice over with. “Faun, can you come get me? I fucked up.”
“I see her!” Flora heard Clark say in the background. 
“We’re on the other side of the square. Can you see us?” Fauna said.
Looking around frantically, Flora spotted Fauna and her boyfriend charging through the onlookers.
She breathed a sigh of relief. “I see you. Stay put, I’ll come over there.” She shut off her phone and stuffed it back into her pocket. As she started moving to the side, a gun went off across the square. The man beside her collapsed to the ground.  The crowd erupted in screams, everyone surging in one chaotic mass in an attempt to get away from the gunman. Flora froze for a split second and then crawled under the rope barrier out into the open. Innocent people did not need to die because of her. Two more shots fired and she heard Fauna yell her name. She trained her gaze on the sound of her sister’s voice. The hit man from the hotel was coming after Flora and another goon was charging toward Fauna. Both had their guns raised. Oh, no you don’t. Besides, Faun is so not a virgin.
Instinctively, Flora’s hands conjured up fire and prepared to launch it at the attackers. But she was too slow. Her knee burst with bone shattering pain and she stumbled backwards. Disoriented, she looked over her shoulder and saw Aiden take his final stuttering breath as a pair of massive white iridescent wings enfolded her and the world went silent.



It had been a long time since he’d transported with another person and Julian didn’t remember it being quite so debilitating. He braced his hands against the kitchen counter, trying to bring himself down from the adrenaline rush. Flora was safe, that was all that mattered. He really needed to pull it together and get back to her. A few more seconds. He turned around and leaned against the counter. Devising a three part plan always helped him get his head on straight. One: get Flora healed. Two: find out what the hell was going on and who was trying to kill her. Three: get her out of harm’s way and keep her safe. Her Day of Sacrifice was only a few days away.
Julian sighed and pulled a mug from the cupboard next to the sink. Walking over to the Grant’s pantry, he extracted a ladle full of liquid from one of Mrs. Grant’s many potion kegs. She was a talented witch, especially with healing potions, almost as talented as his mother. He thrust the ladle back into the keg with more force than he intended. Damn it. Aiden was supposed to be his last charge. He was finally going to get to spend more than a few days every six months on his family’s land. But one look at Aiden’s face when he realized Flora Hamilton was in danger and Julian knew what he had to do.
She was Aiden’s closest friend. He’d been madly in love with her and told her as much. She’d turned him down, telling him she didn’t love him in the same way. To be fair though, Flora turned everyone down. That had been one hell of an awkward conversation for Julian to try not to overhear. Still, she’d kept her word to Aiden and loved him as best she could. Julian admired her for that and for her magic. She was beyond her years with her fire work. It was a damned shame she didn’t have any more years available to her for her other skills to catch up. Why did it have to be Flora Hamilton? He was too close to the situation on several levels. Because of Aiden. Because of admiration. Because of another life changing conversation he hadn’t meant to overhear years before.



She’d woken up in worse places. Never in quite as much pain, but then again, having your kneecap blown to bits was bound to be worse than coming off a two-day tequila bender.
“Good, you’re awake. Here, drink this.” Julian towered over her with his hand out, offering her a mug with a kitten on it.
Flora sat up and took the mug, surveying the room. The cream colored walls were bare, the room Spartan apart from a wooden chair in one corner, and a couple of cardboard moving boxes in front of the empty closet. The double bed she’d been resting on was fitted with green plaid flannel sheets and a thin navy blue comforter that were soaked through with her blood. She took a drink and struggled to swallow the hot nasty-tasting liquid. “Ugh. Thanks for saving me and everything Julian, but what is this crap?”
He chuckled and sat down next to her on the bed, completely disregarding the bloody mess she’d made. “Just drink it. It will mend your bones. Aiden’s mom keeps a stockpile of it in her pantry.” His voice broke a little at the mention of Aiden’s name. He shook it off. “You know how clumsy he was. Must have broken nearly every bone in his body at some point.”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling. “He broke three toes trying to waltz with me at Fauna’s coming out party.” They sat quietly for a moment, remembering his charge and her friend.
“So, who’s trying to kill you Flor? And where the hell is your Guardian?” Julian asked, moving closer to her.
She leaned into him, appreciating the comforting feel of his broad chest. “The Fitzgeralds. Dad had a bad business deal with them, I guess. And Maggie,” Flora shrugged, “she quit this morning.”
Julian scoffed. “Because of the hot tub thing?”
She shrugged again.
“Maggie obviously has no knowledge of magical ritual,” he said.
“And you do?” Flora asked. What did Guardians know of witchy ways? Humans were strictly forbidden from learning magic. Maybe after they became angels, they had a class or something?
He nodded. “I’ve been around. I’ve seen the At Peace ritual performed before.” He smiled. “Of course, I’m more familiar with the moonlight and lake version over the halogen and hot tub one you all performed last night.
Flora blushed crimson, sure that he thought she was a poseur.
“The pink floral bath bomb was a nice touch, though. A definite improvement over the original stinkweed.” His smiled broadened. 
Crap. He has seen me naked. In order to avoid any further embarrassing memories of the night before flashing through her brain, Flora took another sip from the mug. The stuff may have tasted gross, but her knee barely hurt at all anymore and she could tell the bone shards were fusing back together. She’d have to ask Mrs. Grant for the recipe for Fauna.
Julian gave her shoulders a quick squeeze and then stood up. “I’m going to go make some calls, report Maggie for one thing, and then find out what I’m supposed to do with you.”
“Do with me?” she looked up at him. 
He sighed and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “You know I can’t guard you.”
It was against the rules for a male to guard a female and vice versa. Still... “Don’t you think an exception could be made? I mean, I’m under real threat and Maggie totally screwed me. It’s three days.” She didn’t know why she was forcing the issue exactly, but Julian made her feel safe and like she was worth protecting. With all of her Guardians she’d always got the feeling she was just a job.
“I guess it doesn’t hurt to ask and I do have a little bit of leverage where you’re concerned.” He turned and left the room.
She watched him walk away, her gaze lingering on his back and then moving lower. Her face heated and she took another swig from the mug to bring herself back to reality. Now was not the time to be ogling cute angel butt no matter how nice Julian looked in his snug black trousers. 
What had he meant by leverage? With her family, maybe? He’d been her cousin Roland’s Guardian before she and Fauna were born, before he’d become Aiden’s Guardian. It was weird to think that Julian had known her her whole life and yet still looked the same today at Aiden’s ceremony as he had in the photographs from Roland’s. Of course, the clothes were better now, but he had the same somber expression, the same full head of wavy blond hair, and the same athletic physique. Who knew how old he was really. He looked twenty-five at the most.
She sat the empty mug down on the floor beside the bed and decided to try out her knee. Scooting all the way to the edge, Flora pushed herself up with her hands, putting all of her weight on her good leg. Cautiously she lowered the foot of her injured leg to the ground and leaned into it. A little sore, but so far so good. She glanced around the room and set her sights on shuffling to the adjoining bathroom.
The visage that greeted her in the mirror had looked better. She splashed water on her face and then went about getting herself in order. Scrounging a ponytail holder out of her jeans pocket, she used Julian’s fancy boar bristle brush to sweep her hair back off of her face. The hoodie still looked okay, but her jeans were a disgusting mess. She ran her hands over the tops of her legs, and removed the stains from her pants. Satisfied with her appearance, Flora applied full pressure to her injured knee and was pleased to find it had completely healed. Now what?
She went back into the bedroom and considered cleaning the bed, but didn’t, doubtful that her magic was strong enough to erase the pint of blood she’d lost. 
Julian came back into the room, a panicked expression on his face for a split second before he realized she was standing next to the bed instead of sitting on it. 
“You heal fast.” He looked her up and down. “And you’re clean.”
“Well,” she said, grinning, “I do know a few other tricks besides ineptly conjuring fire.”
“There wasn’t anything inept about that, Flora, your magic has always been proficient.”
Always, huh? It was nice to know he’d been paying attention. Hell, it was nice to know that someone had been paying attention. “So, did you get in touch with my dad? Are we summoned?”
“We are.” Julian smiled and extended his arm to escort her from the room.
She hesitated. Beyond that bedroom door was Aiden’s room and downstairs the den where they’d played video games and drunkenly hooked up a few times before she knew how he felt about her. Any pleasant memories she’d had of him were forever trumped by her witnessing his last breath.
“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you when we get outside.” Julian offered her his hand instead.
Oh, yeah. Beyond this house there was a pissed off Supernatural family who had it in for her. “I actually wasn’t even thinking about that.” She peeked around him into the hall. “I’m a little afraid of seeing Aiden’s room. I know that’s totally stupid.”
Julian took her hand. “It’s not stupid, he meant a lot to you. I know he cared for you, too. The door to his room is closed. Come on.” He pulled her into the hall, both of them keeping their faces forward. They hurried down the steps to the main floor and went through the kitchen to the garage.



Julian nodded for her to get in the backseat of Aiden’s dad’s armored car. He was still a little shocked that Flora hadn’t thought to be at all scared of a hit man, but had started shaking at the prospect of seeing Aiden’s room. Gods, that made him want to protect her even more and for himself, not for his former charge. Easy, man. He shook his head to rid it of that strange thought. For himself? 
“Is there a reason we’re not just going to transport like we did from the ceremony? Are you sure Mr. Grant wants us to take his car?” Flora had apparently decided against the backseat and got in front instead. 
He shot her an annoyed look. “Edgar Grant will be fine with us borrowing his car. I’m not sure he will even notice it’s gone and besides, with the goodwill and financial gain he’s about to have because of Aiden’s sacrifice, he could afford a fleet of these vehicles.” Julian reached across her and pulled the seatbelt out, fastening it at her hip. Better. Safer. “If you’re not going to ride in the backseat, at least humor me and put this on.” He started up the car.
“You didn’t answer my first question. Why aren’t we transporting?”
Embarrassed, he pushed a button on the visor above his head and the garage door opened behind them, stalling. He should just be straight with her. She wasn’t going to think less of him. At least he hoped not. Why did he care? “Because,” he said, looking in the rearview mirror, “the adrenaline rush weakens me and I can’t do it very often. Transporting with someone is a lot more difficult than doing it alone.” He backed the car out slowly, constantly checking all the car’s mirrors. “Not all Guardians are even able to do it,” he added, lest she think him a total weakling. 
Flora turned to him, tears pushing their way out of the corners of her eyes. “Julian, you risked handicapping yourself to come to my rescue?”
He nodded. Damn, she thought he’d been rash.
“That is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Honest.” She snorted then, in a bizarre half laugh half sob. “How fucking pathetic is that shit?”



The drive to her dad’s office was uneventful. Clearly, the hit man had had enough of her antics for the day. Still, she noticed Julian breathed a soft sigh of relief when they drove into the underground parking garage and he stayed close to her on their walk toward the elevators. They rode in quiet, both of them watching the floor numbers light up as the elevator climbed. When they reached the twenty-fourth floor, Julian stepped out into the hallway and put his arm back to keep her from following. Assured that there was no immediate threat, he took her hand and pulled her around in front of him. 
“Is this how you guard everyone?” Flora asked, pleased to feel Julian’s palm against her lower back, guiding her down the dark green carpeted hall. “Because I’m thinking Mags was a total slacker.”
“I’m being more vigilant than usual due to the attack, but the elevator thing is protocol. Did Maggie never do that?”
She shook my head. “Not once.”
Julian scoffed. “I’m getting her fired. That is unacceptable. It’s a good thing you can protect yourself well. Your Guardian wasn’t doing you any favors.”
They turned the corner and walked through the double mahogany doors that opened into the expansive lobby of her dad’s private office. Fauna and Clark were sitting on a light green velvet couch closest to the hallway. Fauna jumped up and launched herself at Flora the second they made eye contact.
“Oh my Gods, I’m so glad you’re okay! Those guys were so scary, Flor!” She eased her sisterly death grip hug and looked over Flora’s shoulder at Julian. “And you have got to be her Guardian now. If Daddy doesn’t agree to it, I can be very persuasive.”
Clark pried Fauna from her sister and gave Flora a peck on the cheek. “Glad you’re all right, fireballs.”
She chucked him on the arm. “You know I love it when you call me that.” She surveyed Fauna. She seemed to be all in one piece. “What happened after Julian transported me? Fitzgerald’s guys didn’t come after you, did they?” She’d been so caught up in what was happening to her that she’d barely had time to register what could’ve happened to Fauna and Clark after her vanishing act.
“We fogged the scene, we’re totally fine,” Fauna explained. In the way that Flora used fire, Clark and Fauna used water and could manipulate the atmosphere. “Those goons didn’t even see us when they ran past. After you two transported, they got lost in the crowd.”
“And the man they shot that was standing next to me?” Flora asked.
“Mrs. Grant insisted that the ambulance that was going to take Aiden’s body to the morgue be used to transport him. They were waiting for another one when we left.”
Julian nodded. “So you just got here, you haven’t spoken to your father yet?”
“We got here right before you did. It takes longer to get from one side of town to the other when you can’t angelically transport,” Clark said, grinning. 
“And I hadn’t figured out what I was going to tell Dad about my eavesdropping on his business deals,” Fauna said. “I mean, I know he knows there was an attempt on your life, we could hear him through the door screaming at someone.”
“Probably me,” Julian said, gesturing for us all to move toward the reception desk.
“Why would my dad yell at you?” Flora asked.
“Powerful men don’t like threats and they don’t like it when their Sacrifices are put in harm’s way, Flor.” Julian marched up to the reception desk to announce their presence. Fauna grabbed her sister’s arm and mouthed “Flor?,” wiggling her eyebrows at Julian’s back.
Flora shrugged, which was twin telepathy for, “Yes, the hot Guardian that we’ve all been lusting after since we were thirteen has used my nickname twice today, let me enjoy it while it lasts.”
The receptionist buzzed them in and the door to Michael Hamilton’s office opened automatically. Their father met them all with a steely gaze. He didn’t get up and run to Flora or tell her he was glad she was safe, instead he addressed Clark. “Thank you for making sure that Fauna wasn’t injured in her efforts to protect her sister.” Clark nodded and gripped Fauna’s hand tightly.
 Their father’s eyes brushed over Flora for a second and then settled on Fauna. He exhaled for a prolonged moment. “I understand your motives, but your lack of trust in my ability to take care of the situation is appalling.” Fauna studied her feet. 
The urge to yell at her father gripped Flora’s throat, but she knew that her speaking would only infuriate him. To him, she wasn’t a person, his daughter, but a means to an end.
“Fauna, look me in the eye when I’m talking to you. For Gods sake, Hamiltons don’t cower.”
She snapped her head up, her jaw set. She was itching to yell at him too, Flora could tell. 
He nodded. “I’m aware that you heard about my failed deal with the Fitzgeralds. May I suggest that the next time you choose to eavesdrop you come to me to discuss what you heard? This whole mess at Aiden Grant’s Day of Sacrifice could have been avoided.”
“Flora wasn’t safe, Dad!” Fauna blurted.
Their father exhaled at length again. “As far as you knew.”
“Then there was a plan to keep her safe?” Julian asked, moving closer to Flora’s side, his hand grazing hers.
“I had men en route to the hotel.”
She couldn’t help it. Her dad was such an amazing asshole. “You are aware,” she said, “that if Faun hadn’t warned me that Fitz’s goon was coming that I would have been caught even more unprepared than I was? I barely made it out of that hotel alive! When did ‘your men’ show up? After I’d already fled for my life?”
“What I’m aware of is your despicable behavior, Sacrifice. You and you alone are responsible for your being unguarded. If--”
“Her name is Flora, Sir,” Julian choked out.
“I know what her name is.” Her father pushed his chair back from the desk and swiveled toward the wall of windows that overlooked the city. “For some reason, you’re invested in keeping her alive. This is also what I want for the time being. I’ve spoken to your superiors and they are willing to make an exception seeing as her Day of Sacrifice is only three days away. Take her somewhere secluded.” He stood, still facing away from them. “If you even think about crossing me and she does not show up to her ceremony, I’ll have your wings severed from your body. You will be on a fast track to humanity before you even know what happened. Do you understand me, Guardian?”
Fuck it. She wasn’t going to see her father until the day she died anyway. “His name is Julian, you horrible son of a bitch,” Flora shouted, throwing a fireball at the back of his office chair, igniting it. 
For the second time that day Julian’s wings enveloped her and they disappeared.



The downy protective cocoon that she’d transported in slid away from her as Julian crumpled to the ground.
“Well, this is embarrassing,” he muttered.
She plopped down on the ground next to him, stunned, and took in their surroundings. They were in a field. There wasn’t a single structure or another person to be seen. Anywhere. The landscape consisted of four trees shadowed by the setting sun on the horizon. When Julian heard her father say “someplace secluded,” he must have translated that as “middle of nowhere.” Wide open spaces were so not her thing. She was a city girl with an outdoorsy name, not the other way around. With the exceptions of spending time with Julian and attempting to light her father on fire, this day had sucked.
“Where in the hell have you brought me?” Flora huffed, taking her cell from her pocket and praying there would be a signal. A blank gray digital display stared back at her. “Awesome.” She tossed the phone into the tall grass.
“This is my home,” Julian stated, sounding offended. He stood quickly, staggered a little and then marched through the field.
Flora had never met anyone from the Outer Territory. She thought only criminals and loners lived out here. She hurried after him, cursing that she’d let some of her spoiled Sacrifice attitude come out. “Hey! Wait up!” she called.
He stopped and let her catch up to him. They walked north for a couple of hours, not talking, the landscape not changing except to darken as night came on. She kept a low flame going in her right hand to help light their way, but when she realized that Julian didn’t seem to need it, she put it out. No use in wasting power. 
When they met a gravel road and made their way up a driveway that led to a farmhouse, relief washed over her. She was dead tired. Julian stepped onto the porch and opened the front door. He turned to her, blocking her entrance into the house.
“I’ve never brought another soul here. It was the first place I thought of. There are wards around the property, you’ll be safe here, but if you hate it, we can move tomorrow.” He turned and walked into the house. 
She reached forward, grasping his arm. “I’m sorry for insulting you,” she said to the back of his head. “It’s nice here, just not what I’m used to. It’s good to know I’ll be safe. Today has been nerve-wracking and I acted like a brat, it won’t happen again.”
Julian let go of the tension he’d been holding in his shoulders and placed his hand on Flora’s. He turned to look at her. “I may have been overreacting. The transporting has me worn out.”
She stepped through the doorway. “Well, we better get you into bed then.” She cringed at her words, glad for the darkness of the house.
He chuckled. “Oh?”
Her hand slipped from his arm. “You know that’s not what I meant!” she said, bumbling forward into a wooden chair. “Uh, are there any lights in this joint?”
Leaning past her, he took something off a shelf and folded it into her palm. “Here’s a candle, less draining on your power than keeping fire in your hands. We don’t want you breaking your neck trying to walk around in the dark.” 
Grazing her other palm over the top of it, she lit the wick. They were in an old-fashioned sitting room, furnished with two wooden straight backed chairs, a worn in rocking chair and an uncomfortable looking small couch. She held the candle up and illuminated the room. On the wall behind the couch hung two framed photographs. She moved in to get a better look.
“Careful with that candle, Flor,” Julian warned.
She pulled it back slightly. The photos were those old-timey types that looked almost like portraits. She was getting the feeling that Julian was a lot older than she’d thought he was. The first photo was of a handsome couple, the man had a broad welcoming smile, and the woman’s wavy blond hair struggled to stay in its bun, curly strands forming a halo around her head. “These are your parents?”
“Yes.”
“You look like your mom,” she said, smiling. The next photo took her by surprise. Two teenaged Julians stared back at her. The boys were indistinguishable from one another. She and Fauna only kind of looked alike. “Wow,” she said, her smile growing wide. “You’re a twin too.”
He nodded. “I am.” He pointed to the boy on the left. “This is me. My brother’s name was August.”
“Ha!” she giggled. “July and August, huh?”
“The plight of being a twin, I expect.”
“What happened to him? Is he a Guardian as well?”
“No,” Julian said, inhaling deeply. “No, he was our Sacrifice.”
“What?” Flora shouted, whirling around so quickly she extinguished the candle. “You used to be Supernatural? I thought Guardians were strictly former humans?” She lit the candle again and waited for Julian’s answer. No wonder he understood Sacrifices so well.
“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” he pleaded. He did look tired, his eyes showing a hint of age.
“Sure. Of course, I’ll be up all night thinking about you an--”
“Oh?” He grinned.
“That is not what I meant!” She blew the candle out to hide her embarrassment, which was a stupid thing to do because then they were standing there in the dark.
“Come on, I’ll show you to your room.” Julian put an arm around her waist, leading her up a staircase and down a narrow hall.
“Were you a werewolf? How come you can see so well in the dark?”
“No, I was a witch like you. But I’ve also lived out here for a long time, I know where everything is.” He opened a door. “Here’s your room. There are more candles by the bed. I’m just across the hall.”
“Julian?” she asked.
“Yes, Flor?” 
A small thrill went through her every time he called her that. “What element did you use?”
“I was a fire user, also like you.” He yawned. “I promise to tell you more tomorrow. I need some sleep and you probably do too.”
“Okay. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
 Flora backed up until the bed hit her legs and then swung her hand out trying to find the candles on the table. She touched on a thick glass tumbler and conjured a little fire in her palm to see what she’d grabbed. There was a short squat red candle inside the glass. She lit it and the room glowed with a honeyed light. Pleasant and homey, not the kind of place a criminal or a loner would live. A real family. A mother and a father. She jumped about a foot when she saw Julian was still standing in the doorway grinning at her.
“Just wanted to be sure you found your way.”
“Thanks...for everything today, I mean it.” Flora put the candle back on the bedside table and sat down on the twin bed, kicking her tennis shoes off.
Julian shook his head, probably trying to keep awake, and then nodded at her. “My pleasure.” He stepped backward into the hall, pivoted and went into his room, leaving the door open a crack.
She got up and closed her door, also leaving it open a little. Running her hands over her body, she changed her clothes into her favorite flannel pajamas and crawled under the thick quilt on the bed. Despite the fact that her mind wanted to turn the day’s events over and over, her body won out and she couldn’t resist sleep.



Sleep eluded him. He was too keyed up over the day’s events and too confused about the strange thoughts he’d been having about Flora. Or was it Flor? He’d used the endearment that her sister and Aiden had used with her. Made it personal. So personal in fact, that he’d been annoyed with her for disparaging his part of the country, knowing full well that she was only acting on what she’d been told. Only criminals and people that didn’t want to be found lived in the Outer Territory. Well, he wasn’t nor had he ever been a criminal.
Julian felt his pulse quicken, not sure if it was because he was remembering the annoying incident again or because he couldn’t help wondering what Flora wore when she slept. Ludicrous. He’d seen her naked, for Gods sake. Sure, he’d been more concerned about an extremely intoxicated Aiden going under that pink water and not coming back up, but he’d still seen. 
He rolled onto his side and let himself think about what he needed to think about so he could get some sleep. He needed sleep, damn it. Similar to the way he’d once conjured fire in the palms of his hands, he conjured a picture of Flora wearing a gauzy cotton nightgown in his mind.



Light shining in through the window and Julian knocking on her bedroom door woke her the next morning. “Mmmhmm?” she hummed, rolling toward the door.
“Can I come in?” Julian asked.
“Sure.” She sat up on her knees, pushing her hair off of her face and forcing it back into a ponytail.
Julian stepped into the room, looking strong, well-rested, his face clean shaven. He also had fresh clothes on, a more relaxed outfit of dark jeans and a black and white checked flannel than he usually wore when he was guarding. To say that the look suited him was an understatement.
“Nice cupcakes,” Julian said, nodding at the pattern on her pajama shirt.
Flora blushed violently, no darkness to hide in this morning. “What? You haven’t ever seen a grown woman in her comfy-cozies?” 
The smile on his face broadened. “You embarrass easily when you’re sober Flor, it looks good on you.”
“They look good on me, you mean?” She looked down at herself and wondered if Julian had some sort of pastry fetish he wasn’t telling her about.
“Not the pajamas, the blush.”
“Oh.” Right on cue her face heated.
He rolled his eyes and sat down at the foot of the bed. The mattress lowered under his weight, pitching her toward him. She caught herself from falling face first into his lap with her hands. On his thighs. At this point Flora could feel her pinky toes blush. Gods, I need to get a hold on myself. I am a Hamilton. I don’t cower and I certainly don’t become a pile of silly girl goo in the presence of a hot angel. Julian extracted her hands from his legs and gently pushed her back to the other end of the bed. She noted his complexion was also more red than usual.
Suddenly, he was all business. “Can you conjure food? If you can’t, I can go into town and get you something to eat. It’s a couple hours walk, though.”
She shook her head. “I can change clothing. Fauna’s the one that’s good with food. We always joked that together we’d make one damn fine witch.”
“August and I had the same joke.” He nodded. “Okay then,” he stood up. “You’ll be completely safe here--”
“I’m sure I would,” Flora stood too, “but I’m totally coming with you. If you’ll just point me to the bathroom, I’ll be ready to go in a jif.”
Julian walked over to the window and pointed outside. She went over to see what he was pointing at. Down below in the yard there stood a wooden building with a moon cut-out on the door and a water pump beside it. Oh, hell no.
“Oh, hell yes,” Julian said, reading her shocked expression.



They set off on the gravel road in the opposite direction than they’d travelled the day before, toward town. “Now don’t get too excited about our destination,” Julian teased. “There isn’t a mall or anything.”
“Please,” Flora said, rolling her hazel colored eyes. “Like I need a mall.” She reached out and changed the color of his shirt from white and black check to pink and lavender houndstooth. She giggled.
Julian shrugged, pretending to be pleased with her fashion choices even if they did make him feel less than manly. He’d made her smile and that was nice to see.
She reached out to him again and changed the shirt back, giving him a once over. “Pastels aren’t for you. You’re more of a classic.”
If she only knew how classic. “The color of your sweater matches your eyes,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. Gods, Flora was going to be dead in two days, he did not need to be noticing the color of her eyes. It was this place, being home again. Being around a woman he found attractive. Not having been with a woman in over a decade.
“It does.” She seemed confused. “Do you, uh, like it?”
He couldn’t even pay her a compliment properly she had him so flustered. “I do.” Julian shut up for a while after that, matching his pace to hers, taking in the familiar scenery of his childhood.
The Outer Territory was a beautiful, stark place. Golden fields as far as the eye could see, set against a clear blue sky. Every now and then a sparse grove of Elm trees. It was a clean, solitary landscape.
“It’s prettier here than I thought it would be,” Flora said, gazing across the field to her left. “Is there water over there?” She pointed to a stand of trees up ahead.
Julian nodded. “A stream. August and I used to fish it for trout.”
“Can we go check it out?”
“If you’re not too hungry. We’re still a little ways from town.”
She stepped into the field and started walking in the direction of the trees. “I’m fine,” she said over her shoulder.
He followed her through the tall grass. “Put your hands out,” he said, demonstrating, letting the grass brush against his palms as he walked. She did it without questioning him. “Simple pleasures,” he muttered by way of explanation. Flora nodded her head.
“Do you have a speech?” she asked. 
“Pardon?” he said, even though he knew what she was talking about.
“Something you say to your charges before the procession?” She grabbed a handful of grass and pulled it out of the ground, holding it to her nose and breathing deeply.
“I do. Would you like to hear it?”
“Soon enough.” Flora turned to face him, walking backwards. “Did you learn it from August’s Guardian? It seems like the kind of thing that would get passed down through the ranks or something.”
Julian shook his head. “August didn’t have a Guardian.” If he was going to confide in someone, he supposed confiding in a woman that didn’t have anyone to tell was a good choice. Still, he was walking a fine line with her when it came to family secrets.
Flora turned and walked alongside him. “How come? Weren’t your parents afraid something would happen to him?”
“My parents...they were both second children, both close to their Sacrifice siblings. When they married, they agreed not to have children. They were against producing a Sacrifice.”
“And then your mom gave birth to twins.”
He nodded. She understood. Julian continued on, “One child they had to give up to the Gods, another identical looking child to serve as a daily reminder of their loss.” They’d arrived at the banks of the stream.
Flora sat down on the ground, took off her clunky black boots and socks and plunged her feet in the ice cold water. “Simple pleasures,” she said, smiling up at him. “Keep talking, I want to know about you.”
Julian shucked his shoes and socks and joined her on the ground, dangling his feet in the water. “So, they moved us here to the Outer Territory and hoped that no one had followed. That the Gods wouldn’t demand their Sacrifice.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Did August know that he was a Sacrifice?”
“Yes. My parents didn’t keep anything from us. If he was discovered and had to perform his familial duty, they didn’t want him to feel betrayed by our family as well.”
“Good. Because that would be the worst fucking surprise ever.”
Julian dipped his cupped hand into the water and took a drink, giving himself a moment to think. Which would be worse, he wondered, telling her about her own family betrayal or letting her go to her death falsely believing she was doing what she was destined to do?



Flora watched Julian drink the water from his hand and wanted to be that water. Only stupid Gods would require their Sacrifices to be virgins, and at this moment being a virgin was bothering her more than the dying was. This man, this Guardian Angel she was sitting next to, was opening up to her, instructing her to feel the damned grass on her skin and she was so overwhelmed by his sweetness and honesty, she could hardly contain herself. The cold water on her feet was helping a little bit, but not nearly enough to keep all of the oh-so-wrong thoughts she was having about him from tickling her brain.
Usually Flora would have required half a bottle of good vodka before considering making any kind of move on a Guardian. It was done, Guardians and Supernaturals hooked up all the time, but not by her and certainly not by Julian. That was under normal circumstances, though, and developing strong feelings for someone two days before you were going to die was not usual circumstances. Two more questions. She would give herself the length of two questions and answers to get her nerve up and then she was going to kiss that irresistible mouth of his, blushing and embarrassment be damned.
“How did you become a Guardian then?” she asked.
Julian lay back on the bank and slung his arm over his eyes. “Three years after August’s sacrifice The War began and I enlisted. My parents didn’t need me to help on the farm, really. They’d hired a few men to help with the extra crops it was producing because of the Gods’ favor.”
“I’m sure they didn’t want you to go.” That wasn’t a question, was it?
“They didn’t and they did. My mother, especially, was afraid of losing another son, but my parents also didn’t want to stop me from choosing what to do with my life.”
“So...you died, obviously.” Definitely not a question.
He took his arm off his face and propped himself up on his elbows. “I died eight months into my service, had my throat slit, never saw it coming.” 
Flora could feel him glance at her neck. He knew what kind of pain she was in for, then. That made her braver. “How did you convince the Gods to let you become a Guardian?”
“It was luck.” He turned his gaze back toward the water. “I was standing in line waiting for my Afterlife assignment, hoping that maybe I’d get something in the way of carpentry or farming. Some people get assignments to do things they have no affinity for. But like I said, I was lucky. With all of the people dying in The War, the Gods’ record keepers were behind and no one knew I was a witch. When they asked me if I wanted to be a Guardian, I immediately agreed, happy that I could be alive again and that I could visit my parents from time to time.” He looked Flora in the eye. “Glad that I could give back to Sacrifices in my own small way.” Julian stared at her, studying her face.
Before Flora could let the blush he was causing fully take over, she licked her lips and leaned into him, pressing her mouth to his. When he didn’t resist, returned the kiss even, she deepened it. She pushed her tongue in between his lips, touching his. In response, Julian wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her on top of him. Keeping his arm around her, he slid his hand down, letting it rest on her rear end.
Flora had other ideas. She spread her legs, straddling him and sat up. She began taking off her sweater, but Julian’s hands stopped her, grabbing her wrists. 
“Let me,” he said, his voice husky. He peeled the light cashmere fabric from her body, tracing his pinkie fingers across her skin as he went, making her shiver. He gave one final little tug and had the sweater off over her head, her ponytail loosening. Flora reached back to take the elastic out, but Julian stopped her again. “This is my favorite part.” He gently pulled on the band and her hair spilled down over her shoulders. He sighed.
She had to admit, she thought that was a little weird. Then it occurred to her, “How old are you really?” she asked, smiling down at his lust clouded eyes.
He grinned, embarrassed. “Old enough to get turned on by taking a woman’s hair down.”
Flora slid her bra straps off her shoulders and bent over him. “So, what does something like this do for you?” 
Julian took his feet out of the water, tightened his grip on her hips and rolled her onto her back. “Are you sure you want to know?” he breathed, kneeling next to her, grazing his fingertips over her flat stomach.
She laughed deep in her throat.



I should not be doing this. And yet, there he was, his tongue tracing along the tops of her breasts, unable to stop. He moved lower, taking one of her hard nipples into his mouth, teasing the other with his thumb. She brought her hand up in between his thighs, rubbing against him with her heated palm. Scary for a non-fire user, incredibly arousing to someone like him. It was too much. “Easy, Flora.” Julian took her hand and pinned it above her head with his. 
“Sorry!”She just laughed again and went for the zipper on his jeans. He moaned. She had no idea what she was doing to him after a decade without any sexual contact. He needed to control the pace of this thing that was happening with them or it would be over in a matter of minutes. He pulled her hand away from him and tried to capture it next to her other one.
She shook her head, panic rising in her voice. “Too...sacrificial. Please let me go.”
Oh, Gods. He immediately let go of her hands and sat back on his heels. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have even--”
“Don’t you dare say you shouldn’t have been fooling around with me. We both wanted it. There just wasn’t time to set up ground rules.” She put her bra back on and reached for her sweater. She had grass in her hair. 
Julian’s groin ached something fierce. “Ground rules?” He stood, hoping that would help circulate the blood away from his crotch and put some feeling back in his legs.
Flora stood too, tugging her sweater down. “You know. One: I won’t use any fire because I can’t control it when I’m distracted.” She wiggled her fingers at him. I hate that rule. “Two: no holding my wrists and ankles down. Three: my virginity stays intact.” She grinned and tossed him his shoes, then started putting hers back on.
He bent to tie his laces. “Well, the virginity thing goes without saying. Your use of fire...not scary in the way you thought it was.” He cleared his throat. “Holding your hands down? That didn’t occur to me, but of course that would cause you to panic. I’m truly sorry for that.”
“I know,” she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the gravel road to town, looking back at him over her shoulder. “We’ll do better next time.”
“Next time?” he asked, his legs going wobbly. May the Gods have mercy on my reinstated soul.



Julian had been right about town, it wasn’t much. There was a survivalist store that sold guns and ammunition, knives, water filtration systems, and other things required for life in the Outer Territory. A gas pump sat outside the storefront, not a single vehicle around for it to fill. On down the road was an outdoor market where the more permanent residents of the area, like Julian’s family used to be, sold local produce.
A gruff looking man with a beard that hung down to the middle of his chest greeted Julian with a powerful back slap. “Good to see you. It’s been a while. Seems your color has improved since leaving the city.” He gave Flora a once over that made her skin crawl. “Or maybe it has something to do with this fine young woman. I don’t recall you ever having company in all the years you’ve been in the Territory.”
Julian put his arm around Flora’s shoulders and moved her away from the older man’s fervent gaze. “Daniel, this is my friend, Harmony.”
Flora nodded her head and smiled her sweetest smile, figuring that Julian had good reason for lying about who she was. Anyone out here could be working for the Fitzgeralds, after all. She dared a glance at two scraggly men standing behind Daniel giving her an eye-full.
“What do you say, honey, does any of the fruit Daniel’s selling appeal to you?” Julian asked, his eyes pleading for her to play along.
Flora perused the stand. Everything looked good. She hadn’t realized she was so hungry. “I’d like a couple of apples, sugarwings, if that’s okay with you.”
“Sure,” he squeezed her shoulders hard. What? Was sugarwings too much? “Two apples for Harmony and I’ll take some pears for myself.”
Shit. Angels didn’t need to eat and she’d unwittingly just given away Julian’s true identity. She smiled even harder at Daniel, hoping she could distract him from the conversation. He leered at her chest and stroked his beard. Her tactic seemed to be working.
“The apples and pears?” Julian said, sliding his hand down Flora’s back and grabbing her ass. “We’re in kind of a hurry.”
Daniel grinned lasciviously, showcasing his mouth full of rotten teeth. “Gotta keep yer energy up.” He winked at her. “I get it.” He plucked the fruit from the wooden crates it was stored in and put it in a brown paper bag. “Have fun. Do everything that I would, ya hear?”
Julian took his hands off of Flora long enough to pay for the fruit and then steered her away from the stand, his arm around her waist. 
“It’s not safe here, I should have come alone,” he whispered in her ear, nuzzling her neck. “We’re going to go behind that abandoned building over there and transport. Now laugh.” 
Flora laughed her best flirtatious girl laugh and tucked her head into Julian’s chest, letting him lead her behind the vacant storefront. With one hand he pushed her up against the weathered wood of the building and scanned the landscape.
“I’m sorry I called you sugarwings. That was so stupid. I didn’t know your being a Guardian was a secret,” she whispered, sure he could feel how fast her heart was beating through his hand on her chest.
“Its fine,” he said, his voice low, his eyes still surveying their surroundings. “I’m the one that messed up. I counted three unfamiliar faces at the fruit stand, any of them could have been contracted to kill you and I just paraded you right in front of them.” Satisfied that no one had followed them, he took his hand off of her and covered her body with his. Pressing her closer to the building, he unfurled his wings. “Here we go.”
“Not so fast, angel.”
A shot rang out at close range, ripping through the top of Julian’s right wing. 



He fought against the debilitating pain, focusing instead on protecting Flora, blocking her from view between his uninjured wing and the building. He turned his torso toward Daniel, and was met with a pistol butt to his forehead. Blood seeped into his eyes, but he held firm. Shrugging his arm out from under his injured wing, Julian reached out with amazing speed and took hold of the gun barrel. Wrenching it from the old man’s hands, he backhanded him across the jaw. Daniel swayed sideways into the building and then slid to the ground. 
Flora dropped the bag of fruit.
What Julian needed was a plan. One: Find out what Daniel knew about Flora. Two: Kill Daniel. Three: Get Flora back to his house.
“Don’t move, Flor,” he cautioned. 
He felt her nod her head against his side. Julian stepped away from her and grabbed Daniel by the beard, yanking him to his feet. “Talk, now, you disgusting old fool.”
“There’s--” Daniel began, wincing when he spoke. “Godsdamn it, I think you broke my jaw.” He spat a bloody string of saliva and a couple of his rotten teeth onto the ground.
Julian raised his hand to strike him again.
Daniel cowered. “There’s a reward. Fitzgerald’s had associates out here spreadin’ the word around this morning. Be on the lookout for a male Guardian and a female Sacrifice.” He dragged a shirtsleeve across his mouth. “You weren’t hard to recognize.”
A scream sounded behind Julian. He whirred around, expecting to see Flora apprehended. Instead he saw a burly man cradling his burnt hand to his body and a red hot gun in Flora’s.
“What?” she said, shrugging her shoulders and dropping the gun on the ground. “He was trying to sneak up on you.”
Two men came around the corner, sawed-off shotguns aimed at Flora’s head.
“Shoot her!” cried Daniel.
Julian turned as three men armed with knives came at him from the other side. His eyes met Flora’s and an understanding passed between the two of them. Her hands exploded in flame.
Julian punted Daniel in the head, knocking him out, and launched himself at the other three men, using his injured wing as a shield. They took turns slashing at him with their blades, staying just out of his reach. One man, hopped up on adrenaline, tripped over his own feet and wasn’t quick enough to make his retreat. Julian found his opening, grabbing the man by his neck and lifted him in the air. He squeezed the man’s neck until it broke and then threw him at the feet of the two other attackers. They didn’t back down. Damn, the reward for Flora must be enormous. 



She warmed up by throwing a series of fireballs at their feet. She thought it was only fair that she not kill them straight away. The first man with the burnt hand took one look at her and ran into the wilderness. When the other two didn’t get the hint though, she lost her compassion. Both men cocked their guns. Flora put her palms out flat in front of her, creating a wall of fire. She charged at them, melting the gun metal in their hands. They fell to their knees, screaming, writhing in pain. The grass all around them caught, encasing them in a cage of fire. A flash of panic erupted in Flora’s chest. They were going to burn alive. She spotted the first man’s gun on the ground. She retracted the fire in her hands and drew the gun up. Sucking in a deep breath, she prayed that the safety was off and shot into the bonfire overtaking the two men. There screams went silent. She tossed the gun into the fire and turned to see how Julian was faring.
He was squatting against the building next to an unconscious Daniel, his right wing torn to shreds and bleeding heavily. The three men he’d fought were piled on top of one another, a handprint shaped bruise across the front of each of their broken necks.
She went to Julian, kneeling beside him.
“More will be coming,” he said. “We have to get you out of here.”
“Can you transport?” She gently touched his wing. 
He flinched. “No.”
She studied his expression. He was putting on a brave face, but he was in immense pain. His eyes looked ancient. 
“I heal quickly, but in the meantime, you’ll be vulnerable to attack.” He snorted. “Well, slightly more vulnerable than I’ve already made you. Help me up, there’s a back way to my house.”
Flora wrapped her arm around Julian’s waist, pulling him to stand. They set off across the field in the direction of the house, careful not to stumble over the carnage they were leaving behind.



Julian sat at the kitchen table disgusted with himself, with the whole situation. He’d never felt weaker. The time had come. He had to tell her about the prophecy. 
Flora dropped the wash cloth into a basin of water. She’d managed to clean most of the blood from his battered wing by moving her hand over it, but used the cloth to finish the job. 
He retracted his wings, gritting his teeth through the pain. “I have to tell you something.” 
“Okay.” Flora sat down opposite him.
Julian stared at her. Everyone in her life had betrayed her, failed her, not given her any choices and he was just as bad.
“We’re kinda under a time restraint here, Julian, spit it out.” Flora’s expression had gone from confused to annoyed.
He looked her directly in the eye. She deserved the truth. She deserved to have a choice. “You are not your family’s Sacrifice.” 
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Flora sat completely still, her fists clenched in her lap.
“Have you ever attended a Naming Ceremony?” Julian asked. “Do you know what happens at one?”
“No, I haven’t. My father never let me,” she said, seething.
“Have I mentioned that I hate your father?” He sighed and then began explaining. “The family’s Crone places her hands on the mother’s abdomen and tells the parents what their child’s or children’s names will be. She also reveals other important information about the child, like what element they will use. Very rarely, she sees farther into the future.”
“And?”
“I was at your Naming Ceremony. The whole thing proceeded in the usual fashion. And then, just as the Crone was taking her hands from your mother’s body, she went into a trance and delivered a prophecy to the room. She said, “Your second born daughter, Flora, is going to be a powerful witch. On her twenty-first birthday, she will join with another fire user. Together they will possess enough strong magic to lead a rebellion against the Gods and end the practice of sacrificing the firstborn child.” After some discussion amongst the heads of the family, your father suggested that you become the Sacrifice instead of your sister. He expected you to never amount to anything.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Flora screamed, pacing the room.
Despite her reaction, Julian felt relief. He began formulating a plan.
“And my mother?”
“She was dead set against your father’s plan.”
“Does Fauna know?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Can you imagine that she would?”
“Well, she was awful quick to lose her virginity.” Flora picked up the chair she’d been sitting on and threw it against the wall. Her hands clawed at her hair. “Fuck. No. There’s no way Fauna knew.” She turned her anger on him. “Why are you telling me this? What good will it do? I’m set to die the day after tomorrow. My family will be ruined otherwise.” Flora broke down crying.
Julian stood, tentatively reaching for her hands. “With the exception of your sister, who in your family has treated you well enough to deserve the favor of the Gods? Gods, I might add, who have been fed enough Sacrificial souls to last them seven eternities.”
“No one. They all treat me like I don’t exist.” Her shoulders slumped, the anger flowing out of her.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t see how my telling you was going to do more than cause you deeper pain, but now I think I know a way for the prophecy to come true. You could put an end to the sacrifices. After what I saw you do today, Flora, your magic is strong enough.” 
She looked into his eyes, acknowledging that what he said was true. Then she took his arms and wrapped them around her.



“Those are my choices?” Flora asked, pulling her head back from Julian’s chest to look up at him. “I either proceed with my sacrifice as usual or I lead a rebellion against the Gods? Those choices suck.”
Julian shrugged. “Those are the only two I can think of.”
“Well, then I’d like addendum to choice number two.”
He raised an eyebrow. “All right.” 
“If your plan doesn’t work, the end result of both choices is the same. I’m dead. So, if the Gods are going to kill me, I’m not letting them have my pure soul.” She put her hands on his hips and pushed him back into the chair.
“Flora,” he cautioned, although she could tell his heart wasn’t in it.
She ran her hands over her body, changing her dirty blood-stained jeans and sweater into a flowing white lacy slip. She decided against underwear, but left her black boots on. “Want me to do you?” she said, waving her hands at him.
“No point.” Julian pulled her onto his lap, straddling him, and kissed her hard on the mouth. 
Flora unbuttoned his shirt with quick fingers and tore it open, exposing his well-muscled chest. Moving her mouth to his ear, she took the lobe between her teeth. Julian moaned, running his fingertips up her thighs, inching the slip over her hips. She slid her heated hands down his chest, between her legs and started to unbutton his jeans.
He grabbed her ass with both hands and stood, laying her back on the kitchen table. He looked down at her, memorizing her body with his eyes. 
She encircled his waist with her legs, digging her boot heels into his back. “Come closer,” she breathed. He pulled her toward him, until her ass was at the edge of the table, took hold of the hem of her slip and pushed it up as he kissed his way from her inner thighs to her breasts. Flora wrenched the fabric from his hands and yanked the slip over her head. Julian leaned over her, taking one of her nipples into his mouth. As she writhed against his touch, he trailed his palm over her flat stomach and slid his hand between her legs, stroking her.
When he slipped a finger inside her, Flora knew she was ready. She cupped his face in her hands, drawing it upward to hers. He kissed her slowly, tracing her lips with his tongue. Taking his hand from between her legs, he unbuttoned his pants.
She reached down and guided him into her. He moved cautiously, little by little, until he broke through. Flora inhaled sharply.
“Should I stop?” Julian said his breath labored.
“Gods no.” She pressed her boot heels against his ass forcing him deeper inside her. “Let’s break the table.”
He withdrew and then thrust into her fully. “I never much liked it anyway.”



Julian felt the accumulation of all his years throughout his body. After defiling their souls on every surface in every room of his house for twenty-four hours, he’d barely had enough energy to transport Flora and himself back to her father’s house. Now he stood leaning against the wall in the hall outside of her bedroom while Fauna helped her on with her ceremonial robe. After ensuring that he had his Sacrifice back, her father had informed them that he would meet them in the city square at the appointed hour. He’d told this to Julian, not able to look his daughter in the eye.
The door opened and Flora stepped out. The sight of her in the Sacrificial getup broke Julian’s heart. His plan had to work. There was no way he was going to let her die.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
Fauna nodded her head behind her sister and held up the list that he and Flora had written.
“Good. Clark will help?”
Fauna nodded her head again and then broke down crying, launching herself at Flora. “I’m so sorry! I fucking hate Dad for doing this to you. Hate him, you hear me?”
“It will be okay, just wait for the signal.” Flora squeezed her sister tighter. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Fauna wiped her eyes with her shirtsleeve and backed out of the embrace. “See you there.” She gave her sister a quick kiss on the cheek and then ran down the stairs to Clark who was waiting in the foyer.
Flora turned to Julian. “Okay, Guardian, time for the speech. Let’s hear it.”
He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing the palm. “Hold your head up high. Your sacrifice on this day will save many lives. They will gain the knowledge and power to defeat the Gods. You have lived a good life, and will continue to. I have been proud to be your Guardian.”



Naked again. Flora sighed softly, trying not to think about all the people staring at her, or the fact that the cold sacrificial stone was making her ass numb. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Julian standing in the same spot under the family crest as he had on Aiden’s Day of Sacrifice. Fauna and Clark were next to him. She couldn’t see her father and wondered if he’d even stuck around once the High Priest had strapped her wrists and ankles down.
The High Priest approached her and began chanting while running the dull side of the blade over her body. Flora focused on the sky above her, picking out a cloud in the shape of an angel. It was all up to Julian now.
The blade pushed into her neck, breaking the skin. She took in a deep breath as Julian threw the priest to the ground and covered her with his body. Her view of the cloud was blocked by the downy feathers of Julian’s wings. He winked at her.
“I cannot let this Sacrifice die!” he screamed.
Flora’s father’s voice was the next she heard. “Guardian! I demand that you let this ceremony continue. I will not hesitate to summon the Gods.”
“She will not die, Sir.”
“Have it your way.”
There was a pause and then Flora could feel that they were surrounded.
“Is that what you want, your eternal life for hers?” A haughty female voice asked.
“It is.” Julian climbed off of Flora and motioned for Fauna to toss him Flora’s robe. “Set her free and then you can have my wings.”
The High Priest crawled over to the stone and unfastened her bindings. Flora jumped up and slung the robe on. “Julian, I can’t let you do this! You’ll be nothing more than a common human.” She flung herself into his open arms, clinging to his neck.
“It’s all right. The sacrifice is worth it.” He took her hands from around his neck and held them in his.
Flora peeked around him and saw the Gods, who’d gotten as far away from them as they could when Julian stood up. She’d never laid eyes on them before. Not an impressive bunch. Three obese women in flowing aqua green robes and three skinny, balding, middle-aged men in business suits. 
The one who had spoken earlier nodded at the High Priest. “Take his wings.” She turned to Flora’s father. “Our favor will still be given to you, but only for one year.” Mr. Hamilton bowed low to the ground, thanking them. The God looked away from him and then stepped back in line with the other Gods.
“Please kneel on the sacrificial stone,” the High Priest said.
Flora and Julian complied. His grip on her hands tightened.
“Look at me,” she said.
He stared into her eyes.
“Don’t let them have the satisfaction of seeing your pain.” She made her face as blank as she could.
The High Priest grasped Julian’s right wing and without ceremony, sliced it from top to bottom in one swift motion.
Julian stared into Flora’s eyes, not breathing, not gritting his teeth, just staring. 
Flora held his gaze, ready for what was next.
The priest took hold of Julian’s left wing and sliced it from his body. Julian fell into Flora. 
“You’ve got to get up,” she whispered in his ear. “Show me your hands.”
Julian pushed back from her and held his hands out, palms up. Flora placed her hands on his. There was a spark between them. He was her equal.
At the sight of the fire erupting from Julian’s hands, Fauna and Clark conjured a thick fog for cover. Then, with Mrs. Grant and a dozen Sacrifices and their Guardians, they rushed forward to surround Flora and Julian. The Guardians formed the perimeter of the group overlapping their wings, protecting their charges as they had sworn to do.
“Everyone clear on where we’re going?” Julian asked, leaning on Flora to stay upright.
“We are, Sir,” the Guardians said in unison, tightening their circle around the future of the rebellion. 
Then they were gone.


The End

Also by S.W. Benefiel: Rebellion (DoS #2), Dormant (DoS #3) and Day of Sacrifice Vol. 1-3.  The next installment, Takeover, will be released in 2011.


For more information about S.W. Benefiel and her other work, please visit her website: http://staceywallacebenefiel.com