Revelation: Trinity Part 1 Read online

  He looked away as she wrapped her arms around him, wondering what to do.

  It wasn’t the kisses that bothered him. Rose had kissed her fair share of boys over the years and Christian was used to the feelings such action evoked. He’d learned, over time, to dull his senses, abhorring the idea that he could invade her privacy, her most intimate moments, should his concentration drop.

  But the recipient of her kisses…

  Christian considered the implications of the Fallen’s involvement – by far the cruellest of attacks against his Ward. He had yet to understand what Nathaniel sought to gain from his dalliance, but dreaded the moment he would tire of his games, knowing that Rose would be the one to suffer the heartache.

  He smiled thinly as Ana attempted to break them up – knowing she would see Nathaniel for what he really was – before leaving them to it, unwilling to watch any further. A moment later, he sank into the armchair in his apartment, feeling weary to the bone.

  He’d have to end it, he realised, should never have allowed Nathaniel to get so close. But no Fallen had ever stepped across that boundary before, had never thought to masquerade as mortal, and Christian hadn’t even considered the possibility until it was too late.

  Horror skittered through him as he realised the parallel – was it coincidence that Nathaniel had stepped into Rose’s life the moment he had? Or had his own interaction with his Ward set them on a new path?

  Christian pushed the thought aside, knowing it was futile to speculate. Better, he realised, to deal with the point at hand – of how to get the Fallen as far away from Rose as possible.

  He allowed himself a second of fantasy as he considered the easiest option.

  If Christian had a penny for every time he’d wished he could tell Rose the truth, he’d be a very rich man. The myriad reasons why rushed through his mind, along with the familiar longing. But as quick as they came, as much as he dreamed of Rose truly knowing him, the infinite number of reasons why he couldn’t thundered through behind.

  The fact that it was Forbidden sat somewhere near the bottom of that list – practically every other desire to keep Rose safe trumping any rule or law the Celestia could give him – because, ultimately, the desire was selfish. A whim, a flight of fancy designed to keep him sane on the nights the loneliness pressed in, and he would mourn the day she discovered his world with every ounce of his being.

  He sighed, resigning himself to another sleepless night spent worrying about the girl who was already dreaming. Content and safe, she would remain blissfully unaware.

  7

  Rose woke the following morning feeling like she’d been hit by a train. Her whole body ached and protested as she slowly sat up, running a hand through the sweat-soaked mess that was her hair. She winced as the sun hit her eyes, slow to adjust to the light as she rubbed them with the palms of her hands – no doubt smearing the makeup that she’d forgotten to remove.

  She staggered over to the sink, grabbing a glass of water and searching for the painkillers she hoped would stop her head from pounding. Swallowing a couple and chasing them with an entire glass of water, she considered her options. She could head back to bed in an attempt to sleep off what was promising to be a horrible hangover, or she could take a shower and find somewhere quiet to wait it out in the sun.

  The idea of a shower won the decision for her, and she grabbed her bathroom bag, groaning as her body complained.

  Half an hour later, she was showered, dressed, and heading out into the streets of Cambridge, looking for somewhere she could grab a cup of tea and a magazine. She wandered for a little while, before finding herself at the bridge where she’d bumped into the professor a few days before.

  Resting her hands on the railings and looking out across the river, she thought back to that morning, confused as to why her heart still jumped at the thought of it. How could she possibly still react that way after the night she’d just had with Nate? She smiled, remembering his kisses, the dancing – but her heart wasn’t in it; the image of the professor continued to appear in her thoughts.

  Rolling her eyes at her insanity, she made her way to the coffee shop, breathing in the invigorating smell of freshly ground beans as she opened the door. She ordered a tea before adding an orange juice, figuring she could do with the vitamin-C.

  As she waited for her order at the till, a familiar figure walked through the door. Rose groaned and turned, immediately, to face the cashier, praying the professor wouldn’t notice her in her current state.

  “Good Morning Rose.” She felt him come to stand beside her, her prayers going unheard.

  “Good morning, Professor,” she sighed in resignation. She faced him and his eyes travelled over her before he chuckled.

  “Good night was it?” he grinned as she winced, rubbing a hand across her face.

  “Something like that.” She accepted the plastic cup that was being held out to her, already turning to leave.

  “Where are you headed?” he asked, as he placed his order with the cashier.

  “Somewhere I can wallow in peace,” she said with a wry smile.

  “Ahh, hangover.” He grinned. “’I’ve got just the cure for that.”

  Before she knew it, they were sitting in the wide open park known as Jesus Green, having stopped on the way for bacon rolls and a couple of newspapers.

  Rose sat down on the grass, grateful for the warmth of her hoodie as the light breeze shivered through the trees. The professor sat with his back against a trunk and handed her a roll, wrapped in silver foil.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, unsure of how her stomach would react.

  He smiled as she considered it, watching as she took a small bite. When her body didn’t immediately reject it, she smiled too. He looked smug as he picked up the newspaper, absent-mindedly turning the pages as he ate his own roll.

  Rose sipped her orange juice, feeling the final strains of her headache slip away with the infusion of vitamin-C and carbohydrates. Putting the drink aside, she pulled her hood up over her head and rolled onto her back, closing her eyes against the dappled sunlight that filtered through the leaves above. She breathed deeply as she relaxed, stretching out her aches one by one, enjoying the relative peace of the morning, the whisper of turning pages the only reminder that she wasn’t alone.

  “Are you still alive?” the professor asked, after they’d sat quietly for a while.

  Rose smiled. “Just about,” she mumbled, covering her mouth as she yawned. She rolled onto her front and opened her eyes to find him smiling.

  “Your tea will get cold,” he reminded. Rose sat up and reached for the Styrofoam cup. She sipped it slowly.

  “So where did you go last night?” he asked, conversationally, as he folded up his newspaper.

  “Fez,” Rose said, toying with the plastic lid she’d removed from her drink. He nodded in recognition.

  “You’ve been?” she asked, smiling as she remembered their previous conversation.

  The professor grinned, remembering too. “No,” he said. “Never got the invite,” he added pointedly, shooting her an amused look.

  Rose drank her tea, picturing how her night might have been different if he’d come along. She thought about him drinking and dancing, chatting up girls and singing along to his favourite songs. She thought about kissing him – the way Nate had kissed her – and her heart thumped erratically. She looked up to find him watching her, a curious look on his face.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  “That I would pay good money to see you partying.”

  He chuckled as he finished his tea, saying nothing more.

  “What about you?” Rose asked, curiously. “What did you get up to last night?” The professor looked surprised at her question, and she wondered if it was imprudent of her to ask. But he smiled, seeming pleased, and she relaxed.

  “Not a lot,” he admitted. “Certainly nothing as exciting as your evening. Paperwork, marking.” He shrugged.

&nb
sp; “Did you mark our assignments yet?”

  The professor smiled. “I did.”

  “And?” Rose asked, hopefully.

  “Yours was interesting.”

  Rose grinned. “Because…?”

  “You’ve read the whole epic.”

  She blinked, surprised. “That’s it?” She must have looked as put out as she felt, because he chuckled. “I mean,” she added, sheepishly, “I thought you might have meant the fact that I’d suggested Satan was set up to be the hero of the poem.”

  “Actually, most people said that,” he shrugged, unconcerned. “The thing I found interesting, was that you went on to explain why he wasn’t – using all twelve books to cite your argument.”

  “Well, I have you to thank for that,” Rose said. “If you’d not given me the plain English version I’d still be figuring out the first book.”

  “I doubt that,” the professor raised an eyebrow in disbelief, “but I’m glad it helped. Tell me though, you didn’t find Satan… relatable, at all?”

  “Well of course I did,” Rose nodded, “but that’s the point, isn’t it? That’s why Milton started the poem after Satan’s fall from Heaven – to make him the underdog, turn him into a sympathetic character.”

  “In medias res,” he said, nodding. “It’s Latin – literally translated to ‘in the middle of things’.”

  “But Satan is an unreliable narrator,” Rose continued. “If the story is told from his point of view, of course he’s going to be the hero.” She shrugged, “but it’s his actions, not his words, which show him to be…”

  “The devil?” Professor Howard supplied, amused.

  Rose shot him a grin. “Exactly. Satan is self-serving and an egomaniac. All he wants is to be better than everyone else, and his actions prove that.”

  “Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven,” the professor quoted, in agreement, a pleased gleam in his eye. “I liked it,” he offered, nodding thoughtfully. “It was well put together, and an interesting read.”

  “Thanks.” Rose glowed, genuinely pleased by his praise. “Although there is one point I’d like to discuss further with you if you have any time?”

  “Sure,” the professor nodded. “But it will have to be later, I’ve got to head back,” he said, apologetically. “I’ve got paperwork to do before this afternoon’s lecture.”

  Rose pulled herself into a sitting position. “Me too,” she said, stretching her arms above her head. “Coursework, that is – and I should probably check that the others are alive too.”

  He nodded and stood, brushing grass off his slouchy jeans. “I’ll be in the library this evening until late, if you want to talk some more,” he offered as they made their way across the park.

  Rose smiled, warmth flooding her veins. “I might see you there,” she replied, as nonchalantly as she could. The professor’s face lifted into an amused smile, as if he could hear the stutter of her heart, before he nodded his goodbye and headed up Park Parade, leaving Rose to walk back to the college, her hangover long forgotten.

  ***

  Rose knocked on Ana’s door, that afternoon.

  “I come bearing gifts,” she declared as the door opened, offering up the tub of ice-cream in both hands.

  Ana grinned, moving aside to let her through. “You better come in.”

  Soon they were lounging on Ana’s bed, chatting idly as Ana painted her nails a turquoise-blue that matched the scarf wound about her shoulders.

  “So you and Nate looked pretty cosy last night,” Ana said, finally addressing the elephant in the room as she secured the lid onto the little bottle.

  “Yeah,” Rose admitted. “That was… unexpected.” She winced as Ana shot her a disapproving look. “Why don’t you like him?” she asked.

  Ana frowned. “There’s just… something about him,” she hedged. “I mean, obviously he’s hot, and chivalrous and attentive – to you, at least.” She shot Rose an exasperated look. “And he seems to actually like you.” The idea appeared to thoroughly confuse her, and Rose didn’t know whether to be amused or insulted. “But I just don’t trust him.”

  “Really?” Rose asked. “I don’t get that vibe from him. I mean, he looks like trouble.” She grinned as Ana nodded emphatically. “But, I feel like he’s hiding something. Like –” She hastened to explain, at Ana’s startled expression. “Like there might actually be a very sweet guy hidden under all that sex appeal.”

  Ana raised a sceptical eyebrow, and Rose knew she was fighting a losing battle.

  “Do you want to be with him?” Ana asked, finally.

  Rose frowned as she considered. “I don’t know. He’s nice. I like spending time with him.”

  “But?”

  Rose shrugged, noncommittally and Ana smirked, sinking her spoon into the ice cream.

  Rose was instantly wary. “What?” she asked, guardedly.

  “Is a certain professor getting under your skin?”

  Rose hesitated, considering denying it, but Ana’s expression said she already knew.

  “Is it that obvious?” she groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

  Ana’s smile was sad. “Tell me what’s happened.”

  Rose lifted her head in surprise. “Nothing’s happened.”

  “Nothing?”

  Rose shook her head, reaching for the ice-cream tub.

  “But,” Ana said, waving her spoon emphatically, “I saw you together. The library –”

  “The library,” Rose interrupted, “is nothing. We read at the same desk – that’s all.”

  “And you’ve not seen him outside of class otherwise?” Ana looked confused.

  “We had coffee?” Rose shrugged. “In the week, and again this morning – but they are more accidental than planned.”

  “How do you have accidental coffee?” Ana teased. She giggled as Rose rolled her eyes. “It’s just a crush,” Ana reminded her. “Hardly the end of the world, and he is gorgeous –”

  “It’s not just a crush.” Rose looked up as Ana went quiet, realising just how desolate she’d sounded. “I mean, it feels like more than that.” She shrugged, unsure of what she was trying to explain, only knowing that she needed to. “I’m drawn to him,” she finally admitted. “It’s not just because he looks like my Christian. There’s something about him…” She frowned, trying to put her thoughts together, trying to explain. “I feel,” she murmured softly, “like I’ve known him forever. He’s so familiar – and yet, everything he says surprises me…” she shook her head. “I’m not making any sense,” she apologised.

  Ana simply smiled. “It’s okay,” she encouraged.

  Rose inhaled, finding catharsis in the opportunity to express her confusion. “When I’m with him, when it’s just the two of us, it’s just so easy. But then, when he leaves I start to think about how it’s like he knows me, too. As if he’s just waiting for me to realise…”

  She stopped, as she realised what she was saying. “You must think I’m crazy,” she laughed.

  “You’d be surprised.” Ana grinned, waving away Rose’s curious look. “It doesn’t matter. What does,” she continued, “is that connection.” She leaned forward, turning serious. “Don’t let a good time with Nate get in the way of something epic –”

  “Something epic?” Rose laughed. “Ana, he’s my professor. I hardly know him. I don’t think it’s reached epic just yet. Besides,” she added, with a knowing smile, “don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. You just don’t want me to be with Nate.”

  Ana looked blank for the barest of seconds, before her face split into a grin. “Well, yeah,” she admitted, with a shrug. “I guess I might be a little biased…”

  Rose grinned.

  “All right,” Ana said, “Enough about all the men in your life.” She shot a grin at Rose’s indignant expression. “Let’s talk about me…” She reached for the ice-cream once more and, laughing, Rose handed it over.

  ***

  Ana made her way to the L
ibrary the moment Rose left, finding the Guardian exactly where she’d hoped he would be – sitting at one of the desks in the reading room, deep in thought, the book in front of him barely touched. He looked up as she approached.

  “Can I talk to you?” she asked. Christian gestured to the seat opposite, but Ana cast her gaze at the other students around him and shook her head. “Not here.”

  She led him out of the library, into the car park, stopping once she reached the thick hedgerow that lined its border, black iron gates marking the entrance to the footpath back to the college. He waited, expectantly as she turned to face him.

  “So,” she began, a little unsure of how to begin. “There’s something you should probably know…”

  “I know about Nathaniel,” Christian said. “If that’s what you’ve come to tell me.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course.”

  For once, Ana was at a loss for words. She’d assumed he’d be furious – desperate to get Nate away from Rose, and yet he seemed unfazed. “What are you going to do about it?” she finally asked.

  Christian seemed surprised. “What can I do about it?”

  “Get rid of him,” Ana blurted. “Smite him back to Hell, put him in demon Prison, whatever it is you normally do…” She trailed off as she realised Christian was smiling, amusement lighting his eyes. “Are you seriously telling me you’re going to do nothing?” She asked in amazement. “That it’s okay?”

  Christian sighed, considering her. “I’m not sure what to do,” he finally admitted. “If I’d got to him before, then it wouldn’t be so difficult, but now…” he shook his head. “He’s in Rose’s world. If I took him out of it, questions would be asked and I can’t –”

  “You can,” Ana urged. “You have to – because otherwise he’s going to worm his way further into Rose’s life and she’s going to fall for him, and I can’t –” she stopped, surprised at the fear the idea filled her with. “I won’t let that happen,” she decided, resolutely. “So if you won’t do something about him then I will.”