She was one life I saved.

“Angelica's alive?” Jericho echoed, his voice full of relief, proud and thoughtful at the same time. “Thank, God,” he kissed the top of my head and when I looked up at him, intrigued by the gesture he kissed my forehead as well. “You did good there, kiddo.”

“It's not enough.” I blinked back the tears, refusing to ruin our happy reunion by crying through the whole night.

“It's a start. We'll get them,” he vowed confidently into my hair. “We'll get them all back.”

I had so many questions for him, so many concerns and strategies I wanted to talk through, but now was not the time. We were exhausted and at the beginning of a journey that would take us to the gates of hell.

Tonight, I would simply be thankful that he was with me, that I was not alone and that hope was on the horizon. Tomorrow we could talk until we were sick about rescue plans, and schemes of destruction, but tonight we would rest in the security of each other's arms. Tonight, I would breathe in Jericho and relish in the warmth of another person, of another person that cared about this cause and about avenging the loss of my loved ones and destroying the bloodline that left us both survivors of an evil tyrant.

Tonight I would sleep in someone’s arms, someone that cared about me.

We drifted to sleep, holding each other closely, breathing steady, even breaths and allowing our minds to be dreamless, the sweet sanctuary of the quietness of an empty slumber.

----

When I awoke the next morning, the sunlight was streaming through the window, warming my face and waking me gently. I stretched for a long time, realizing I was alone in bed and that Jericho had covered me with a warm blanket. I turned my head, looking for him and it was a moment before I recognized the sound of the shower.

I sat up in bed, unwilling to leave the comfort of the blankets just yet and pensive for the moment. I was content, satisfied that Jericho was with me and I felt safe for the first time in weeks in our small motel room. I wasn't happy, I wasn't sure if I would ever fully feel that emotion again, but I was content.

The feeling felt strange and foreign, like an alien emotion not native to my body. Just a few weeks ago I believed I couldn't experience a greater happiness or sense of security but when that was raked from me, I was sure my heart would never soar upwards again.

I knew that it wasn't much, that the small ounce of contentment today was just for a moment. Jericho and I would get to work in a few minutes, the emotion would fade away, and I would refocus on our mission. I knew that contentment was not happiness, and that everything I felt was only false security; but for now, I relished in the shared company and safety of the morning.

Jericho suddenly tumbled out of the bathroom in an almost too small white cotton towel, water dripping down his muscular chest and gasping for breath. He was panicked, fear written obviously across his face and I jumped to my feet ready for battle, or ready to run.

“No, no, Eden, I'm sorry,” Jericho sighed heavily, his face relaxing into a smile and his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “It's just that, it's nothing really, I, just.... something scared me, sorry, but it was nothing. I mean, really, it's nothing,” he exhaled heavily, running one hand through his wet hair, the other gripping firmly to the towel around his waist.

“What happened?” I asked carefully, not entirely convinced Jericho would be scared of nothing.

Jericho hung his head, his shoulders slumping self-consciously, and shaking from humiliated laughter at the same time. When he looked up at me from underneath his thick, dark lashes, his eyes twinkled with life that had been missing yesterday.

“It was a snake,” he mumbled, turning back towards the bathroom and craning his neck as if to find it inside.

“A snake?” I asked with a flat voice.

“Yes, a snake,” he answered. He stood in the middle of the room, dripping wet, water droplets running across his tanned, defined chest and in the smallest white towel afraid of a snake. “It slithered over my foot while I was in the shower, it just scared me that's all,” he finished weakly.

“Obviously,” I agreed, and then burst into uncontrollable laughter, my body shaking violently and gasping for breath at the same time.

“Don't laugh!” Jericho demanded but couldn't stop himself from joining in. “At the time, it was very traumatic!”

He only made me laugh harder, soon tears were streaming down my face, but not the sad kind, the kind that only appear when something is beyond rational and funny, the happy kind. I laughed for minutes, doubling over and grabbing my side. I wasn't concerned with the snake or even Jericho's embarrassment; I couldn't stop myself from the sweet relief of laughter.

“It's not that funny!” Jericho whined, tapping his toe impatiently against the red cement floor. “Eden!”
 “I'm sorry, I'm really sorry,” I struggled to get control of my emotions, standing up and wiping at my eyes. “You're right, it's not that funny,” I agreed, still unable to stop the left over laughter from escaping.

“I'm not scared of snakes, really,” Jericho said bravely, “it's just that, I wasn't expecting to have to share my shower with a slimy, green, awful serpent, that's all,” he cringed while describing the snake and then shuddered from the memory.

“Right, you're not scared at all.” I rolled my eyes, good-naturedly.

I walked over to the bathroom door, afraid to go in lest the snake really be something to be afraid of. Jericho stood closely behind me as if I was the one protecting him. He playfully pushed me forward with one hand strong on my back and I took the initiative to walk over to the shower and pull the white curtain back dramatically.

I shrieked a little, afraid of the intensity of the moment, but then sighed in relief finding the tiny green snake slithering around the basin of a white porcelain tub. The snake was no more than a few inches long and completely harmless.

“Jericho!” I scolded, “This is what you're afraid of? It's just a tiny little thing!”

“I told you, it just snuck up on me and scared me, that's all,” he defended himself, while still refusing to leave the doorway of the bathroom. “But you better get rid of it, I might lose my towel if I try....” he mumbled weakly.

“Mmm.... hmm....,” I agreed, glancing back at him. He looked savage, standing in the door way, hair wild, water droplets slowly drying. I found it hard to believe he was actually afraid of the little snake; but then he shuddered after just looking in the direction of the tub and I had to laugh all over again.

I reached my hand into the basin intending to pick the tiny serpent up by his tail, but failed to find the courage. He slithered around the bottom of the tub frantically, terrified and lost. I could suddenly relate to him, but had no desire to pick him up.

“I need something.... like a stick or something,” I glanced around the room, trying to find the right snake-extracting tool. I stood up and put my hands on my hips, staring helplessly down at the snake.

“Or you could, oh, I don't know.... use your magic?” Jericho suggested sarcastically.

“Oh, right!” I replied, holding up my finger like it was the best idea I had ever heard.

“Some things never change,” he mumbled, thoroughly amused with me.

“Says the big strong man cowering in the corner and wearing a hand towel,” I laughed at him.

I used my magic, like Jericho suggested and lifted the wiggling reptile out of the tub, carrying him to the bathroom door where Jericho retreated safely behind the nearest bed.

“Excuse me, Tarzan,” I joked, opening the door to the outside with magic as well and tossing the little guy out into the grass. “Better?” I turned around to smile at him. He had not moved from his post.

“Much, thank you,” he smiled back, “you're not going to tell anyone about this, are you?”

“Your secret is safe with me,” I promised.

“Thank you,” he said graciously, and then walked around the bed, on his way back into the bathroom.

“Until I need to blackmail you, that is,” I finished smugly as he walked by. He turned on me playfully, pinching my side and sending me jumping.

“So what's the plan today?” he asked from inside the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door.

I blushed, and fled to the bed that was around the corner and away from the changing Jericho.

“Silas suggested that I visit Gabriel, in Urubamba. Apparently he is a priest or something?” I questioned, hoping Jericho might have a better idea of who this guy was.

“I think I’ve heard of him before. I couldn’t tell you anything specific, but Amory definitely mentioned him at some point,” Jericho said thoughtfully through a muffled voice. He walked around the corner, his head tipped forward, drying his hair roughly with his towel.

“So, this should be interesting....” I stood up to take my turn in the bathroom.

Jericho stepped in front of me before I could make it very far. He had put his jeans on, they had been washed in the tub and dried with his magic, but he was still shirtless. His hair was messy and still damp and his eyes were hungry, meeting mine with ferocity.

“Eden, I just want you to know.... I just, I mean, I just need you to know that I am really happy you're all right,” I started to say something in response, but he cut me off by grabbing my bicep and pulling me closer to him. “After we left.... and in those dungeons.... all I could do was imagine the worst and that the unthinkable had happened to you. So when they brought me here, and you were.... here, when you walked out of that building.... I just, I just couldn't have been happier to see you, or be with you now.”

“I feel the same way,” I whispered softly, finding it hard to move or speak under his intense gaze.

He stared at me a few moments longer as if deciding what to do with me. I stayed still in his arm, not sure what to expect but not willing to leave him either. He leaned his face forward as if he were going to kiss me on the lips, but I knew that I was in no danger. Jericho wasn't being intimate with me, we were both just thankful to be near one another and safe. Instead of my lips, he kissed me sweetly on the forehead, his lips hot against my skin.

I looked up at him, trying to convey every ounce of gratitude that I felt for him, trying to radiate how fearless I felt with him here to help me. Together we could conquer this; together we could win.

His eyes turned curious for just a moment before I closed the distance between us and slipped my arms around his waist, holding him tightly to me. He hugged me back, and our magics met again in friendly reunion. We were together, and I refused to lose Jericho again.

Chapter Seven

“I can't take it anymore,” Jericho blurted out loudly while walking through the busy marketplace.

We decided to leave the stolen motorcycle behind at the motel and walk to the church in Urubamba. The incessant rain seemed to stop now that we had entered into March and I was thankful for the sunshine and clear blue sky.

The small town was bustling with life. Small stands stood close to each other, vendors flowing seamlessly together in a current of stubborn haggling and angry transaction.

I looked up at him, surprised by his outburst. He turned his gaze on me, the sincerity of his hazel eyes unnerving, the flecks of green hidden in the pool of soft brown reflected his essence, flashing with intensity.