Shadow of the Sun (Timeless #1)

Chapter 15: Dreams

Why would the Shadow warn me that I shouldn't wake the angels when I didn't even have the power to do it? Andrew, lying next to me in the dark, was quiet. The complete silence was broken by the whirring of the heater, and I jumped. My mind wasn't working in this tired state; my thoughts were nothing more than an incoherent babble in my brain.

"Gabriella?" Andrew reached out and tucked my hair behind my ears. "Please, say something."

"I—" I didn't know how to respond. He waited patiently, something I was not used to. "We...well, we need to find the others." What other options were there? Something was afoot, and we couldn't figure this out on our own, prophecy be damned.

Again, there was nothing but silence between us, and the dark was a velvet curtain over my eyes.

"How do we do that?" he whispered.

"We, um..." I knew what we had to do, but at the same time I was against it and knew he would be too. "We let the FBI capture us."

He exhaled a long, heavy breath. When he spoke, his voice was calm, serene. "We'll talk about it in the morning. Sleep," he said, and suddenly, unexpectedly, he brought his warm lips to my forehead. A spark lit between us, a tiny bolt of lightning.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

His body shook with silent laughter. "Goodnight, sweet Illuminator."

I was still aching with curiosity, however. "Andrew?" My voice was almost inaudible. "Are you going to sleep? I mean, doyou sleep?" I'd never known an immortal before. The possibilities were endless.

His laugh was low and throaty. "Of course I do, but I've been 'asleep' for years. I'm not tired."

This time I was silent, barely acknowledging his explanation with a yawn. I anticipated the sleep that was about to dominate my greater senses. I was exhausted and knew I needed rest. As I faded toward a dream state, Andrew's warm arms wrapped around me, his hot breath in my hair. He kept the blanket between us. Perhaps he was just trying to soothe me, and honestly, he was. I didn't object as I fell comfortably onto his shoulder, tucked beneath his arms, and soon I was asleep.

<>

Flowing auburn hair glittered against the sun like molten copper. A knife tucked securely into a holster around a leg. Glacial blue eyes turned toward me over a perfect shoulder, staring, cautioning me. Her face was that of an angel; her body that of a goddess. The tattoos covering every inch of her skin were intricately woven in a pattern with no beginning or end.

She turned away from me, her short, white dress billowing in the wind. It was silk-like, so thin I could see through it. Her tattoos went beyond her arms and legs; they snaked up her back to circle around the shape of two arrows crossed together.

Automatically, my hand reached out to trace the symbol. It was familiar. As I took a step toward the goddess-like warrior, another hand reached out and yanked me back. The skin was dark brown and beautiful, just like the angel before me. My head moved, as if in slow motion, to see whose face belonged with the hand.

He was tall. I had to look up and up.

"Luke?" I whispered. He was not threatening, though his light-blue eyes bored into mine. The hair falling toward his face was the same shade of auburn as that of the woman's.

He was scared, anxious. Naturally my eyes scanned the area to see where the threat was. Behind me, in the distance, a small army was a moving sea of leather. Weapons were strapped to sheaths or in their hands. My eyes widen, but when I turned to share my distress with Luke, he was staring in another direction. There was no mistaking his feelings. He trembled.