The higher angels had special plans for Zoe, although they did not share these plans with Andrew. He was a mere warrior, one who followed orders, not one who issued them. His orders were to protect her, to keep her out of the demons’ hands and alive at all costs. Orders he gladly followed. He would fight for her soul with unmatched ferocity and according to his superiors, tonight would be the first battle.
Andrew perched on a boulder, feeling the rock’s physicality beneath his not-quite-solid feet, as he watched and waited, his body coiled and ready for the fight. On the other side of the veil, Zoe, unaware of impending danger, knelt by the creek, the moonlight bouncing off the rippled surface, washing the color out of her smooth olive skin and casting shadows over her dark brown eyes. She splashed water on her face and glanced up at the half-moon, then suddenly turned her head toward Andrew.
He tensed, for a moment thinking she could see him as her eyes seemed to focus right on him, piercing his soul. If she could, she would see a hard, muscular man with light hair, white wings rising from his bare back, a multitude of weapons hanging from his belt and a long sword in his right hand. Her brows pushed together for the briefest moment and then she let out the saddest sigh he’d ever heard, as if disappointed when she saw nothing but the boulder. Her head dropped and her shoulders sank. Locks of dark hair had escaped the braids wound around her head and now curtained her face as she stared at her lap, her hands twisting into the linen of her tunic.
Andrew heard the noise of someone approaching before Zoe did and sprang to attention. She jumped to her feet, too, and turned toward him—a move that could have cost her life. In the physical realm, three men came at her from behind and one quickly pinned her to the ground. At the same time, a demon charged the angel in the Otherworld.