“Let me,” I said, dropping to my knees and helping him out of his boots. He leaned against the wall to keep his balance as I tugged first one boot, then the other from his feet.
“I’ll wash your uniform,” Noel offered, and Gideon nodded vaguely, stripping off his soiled clothing right there in the entry until he stood in his underwear and undershirt.
Jai gestured to the kitchen. “It’s not much, but I made food if you’re hungry.”
“Thank you,” Gideon said, frowning down at his hands. “I should…”
Taking Gideon’s hand in mine, I guided him toward the stairs. “Come. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He followed me meekly, trudging up the steps with heavy feet. I led him to the bathroom he shared with Jai and Noel. He stood at the sink as I turned on the shower and warmed the water.
“You’d think it would get easier,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh.
“What would?” I asked as I prompted him to remove his undershirt.
Obeying, he dropped the thin fabric to the floor. “Death,” he said simply.
As I slid his trunks down his thick legs, I chewed the inside of my cheek as I searched for an appropriate response. “I don’t think death should ever be easy. If it is, it means we’ve lost ourselves.” I remembered how thoughtlessly I’d killed in Purgatory, how simple it had been. “There’s nothing wrong with not wanting to kill.”
“And if I did?” he asked, eyes tracking my every move as I slid my shirt off. “Want to kill?”
I shucked off my jeans and underwear, leaving us both naked. “Sometimes, choosing mercy is harder than vengeance.”
“War has different rules,” Gideon said as steam billowed out of the shower.
“I know. But mourning the loss of life, regardless of whose it is, doesn’t make us weak. The moment we forget the value of a life is the moment we’re no better than the monsters we fight.”
“Sometimes, killing is the only option.” He reached out and traced my collarbone with the tip of his finger.
I thought of Leviathan and the weight of his heart in my hand. “Yeah, sometimes, we don’t have a choice. And we have to live with the weight of it.” I stepped closer until we were mere centimeters apart. “But that’s why you have me. The burden is lightest when we carry it together.”
“I don’t think I deserve you,” he said solemnly.
Placing my hand on his chest over his heart, I smiled. “Good thing love isn’t about what we deserve.”
We stood in the thickening steam for a moment before I took his hand and directed him into the shower. Under the spray, blood and dirt ran down his body in rivulets, and I rubbed a bar of soap between my hands until the suds dripped down my arms. I spread the foam over his body as he tilted his head back under the stream of water.
Eyes closed, he surrendered to me, allowing me to cleanse his skin of death and guilt. I washed him until the water ran clear. When I cleaned him between his legs, he opened his eyes in surprise but didn’t stop me.
It wasn’t sexual. He didn’t harden in my hands, and—though it took a lot of willpower on my part—neither did I. This wasn’t about sex. I just wanted to take care of him, to ease him after the long battle.
When he drew me in, I joined him under the hot water, skin to skin. My cheek rested over his heart as his trembling fingers dug into my back. It scared me, the way he fell apart, but I didn’t let go. I held him together as he splintered.
I’d never seen him after a real battle before. After my rescue, I’d been unconscious for a while and, later, entirely wrapped up in my own issues to notice how my angels coped with the taking of life. How selfish and cruel to think that it didn’t whittle away at them the way it did me.
Once Gideon stopped shaking, I turned off the shower and retrieved his towel. I dried him off as he watched me with the most tender expression on his face. Shivering, I wrapped a towel around myself and followed him out of the bathroom and into his room. We dressed quietly, me in one of his huge shirts, him in his plaid pajama pants.
Instead of returning downstairs to eat, Gideon gazed longingly at his bed. With a gentle push, I prodded him forward. I drew back the covers and tucked him in once he was horizontal. He grabbed my hand and yanked, and I crawled over him, settling on my side facing him.
Our knees knocked, and our hands twined between us. We shared a pillow, our noses nearly touching.
“Lucifer knew we were coming,” he said in a whisper. “Not everything. We purposefully made a lot of strategic calls on the field instead of before.”
“To make sure the information wasn’t leaked,” I supplied, and he nodded.
“But he was still prepared for an attack.”
“We always knew there were still moles,” I said.
“It doesn’t lessen the blow, especially when it results in heavier casualties than there should have been.”
I nuzzled his nose with mine. “You did all you could.”
“Maybe. But Lucifer’s angry. He’ll retaliate. He’ll come for the females, for the hybrids we stole from him.” He paused. “He’ll come for you.”
“He can’t get into Utopia, can he?”
“I don’t think we can stop him from trying.” Sensing the fear I tried to hide, Gideon squeezed my hands to the point of pain. “I won’t let him hurt you, kapara.”
“We’ll fight together. We’re strongest that way,” I said, forcing confidence.
“It won’t be long now.” His expression was grave. “He’ll come, and he’ll come soon.”
My eyes bled red for a moment. “Then let him come.”
When he closed his eyes, I thought that was the end to talking. It was for a while. We lay in silence, our breathing falling into sync.
Drifting in a doze, I startled when his voice broke the stillness. “All I could think of was coming home to you. Because I’d promised. And there was a moment when things got hairy, and I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to keep my promise.”
Our gazes clashed, and I brought his hand to my mouth and kissed his knuckles. “But you did keep your promise. And next time, we stick together no matter what.”
“No matter what,” he echoed, his gaze devouring my face like a starving man. I touched his nose with mine and screwed up my face in a silent question. He swallowed thickly. “Riley, I… I…”
“Hey, I’m right here.” I wriggled closer until we touched in every way possible. I squeezed his hands in mine as tight as I dared. “It’s okay, Gideon.”
“I thought I was too late,” he said.
“Too late for what?”
“For you,” he said so quietly I almost missed it. “I thought… when I thought I might not make it back, I realized how much time I’ve wasted. And how I would leave this life never having bonded with you. I would never know what it was like to know you, to give you everything.”
“Gideon.”
Lifting our hands, he studied them a long moment before he inhaled deeply and sighed. His energy buzzed to life, his skin glowing white, and I gasped as little white flames licked over my fingers. I tasted peppermint as goosebumps erupted down my arms.