Page 7 of Archangel

Archangel took us deeper into the Black Reign property, to a place I’d never been to before. Wasn’t surprising since this wasn’t my club, but as much time as I’d spent here with Caroline and Bella, whatever this place was must be extremely private.

It took us about fifteen minutes of driving. I knew the Black Reign compound was big, but the property must be pretty damned big. I wondered how far from the border of their area we were. I should probably be wondering what the big bastard was gonna do to me, but, honestly, I didn’t care. He wasn’t going to hurt me or my dad would never have given him permission for this. I was about to throw Archangel a curve ball and couldn’t wait to see how he reacted.

The “Oasis,” as he called it, really looked like an oasis. There was a privacy fence around the entire area, as well as three enclosed structures. Two of them looked like one-room cabins, while the other one had walls on two sides and was screened in on the others. Beyond that was a neatly kept pond. The grounds were immaculate. The place was like some fancy, exclusive spa.

“Wow.” I didn’t bother to hide my admiration. “This is some place!”

“This is where I bring people to meditate and reflect. It’s tranquil, and I find it helps set a relaxing mood.”

There was a long silence. Very long. There was so much to unpack in Archangel’s explanation I wasn’t sure where to start.

After what had to be a full minute of us staring at each other, neither of us willing to give anything away, I finally found my voice. “Meditation. Reflection.”

Archangel lifted his chin at a stubborn angle, daring me to say anything further.

Naturally, I did. “I wasn’t aware bikers practiced meditation and reflection. Do your brothers know about this? How about the club whores? Is this some form of punishment? Because if it’s punishment, I’m afraid Imm’a have ta pass.”

“Keep it up. Thorn won’t get the chance to spank you because I will.”

“You say that like it’s a threat or something.” I grinned and twirled one long, curly strand of my hair.

“This might be beyond my capabilities,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face like he was bone weary. “Not on no sleep.” He focused on me again, seeming to be trying to make a decision. Then he nodded his head once. “This cabin is yours. The only electricity is what it takes to run water. There’s no cell coverage out here either. There is a small bathroom with plumbing, but the shower is barely big enough for one person.” He turned to the side-by-side and picked up a large duffel bag. “Lyric packed some things. You should have everything you need in here to be comfortable, including several changes of clothing.”

“OK… What exactly are you expecting to happen here?”

“I expect you to do as I tell you and to open your mind up to what you have to offer the world. To find a way you can help your club and your family. I’m going to help you find your way.”

I blinked up at him. “Wow. That wasn’t rehearsedat all.”

He clenched his jaws and his fists, giving me a look that said he wanted to flay me alive. “Go to the fuckin’ cabin, Sonya. Make your bed. Set up your shit the way you want it. Walk around the fucking pond. I don’t give a fuck. But get some rest tonight and be ready to start at sunrise.”

“Fine, Mr. Cranky Pants.”

“I’ve locked the gate to this place. You can’t get out and no one can get in. It’s only the two of us until we get this done.”

I tried to look put out, but inside I was rubbing my hands together with glee. “Fine. Fine. I’ll just take my shit and go sit with my thumb up my ass.”

“I’ll have supper ready in a couple of hours. We eat and work in the shelter.” He pointed to the half-enclosed building I’d noticed before. “No matter what task you’ve been assigned, we always eat three meals a day together. Seven, noon, and five. It’s where we talk to each other and express our concerns and share our accomplishments with each other.”

“This has got to be some kind of alternate universe.” I know I was staring at Archangel like he’d grown a third eyeball, but I couldn’t help it! “Whatareyou?”

“Curious?” He arched one dark eyebrow.

“You kind of maybe sound like you might have done this a time or three. So I want to know if you’re, like, some kind of New Age healer or shaman or something.”

“I’m a soldier who’s seen too much death and turned to philosophy. I’ve studied several different religious sects and methods of healing mental trauma through different meditative techniques. If you want to know why, you’ll have to stay and not fight me on what I’m asking of you.”

I laughed softly. “By God, you’re good. Fine. I’ll play your little game.” More because it suited me to take my time with this. Well, for the moment anyway. “I’ll be here every day. Do what you tell me to do. Mostly. And I’ll try to pick up what you put down. I’ll keep an open mind and all that shit. But you have to give me some kind of time frame. I have no intention of being stuck here indefinitely.”

“I don’t like having a time limit. Defeats the purpose.”

“And I’m not signing over my life to you until you see fit to call a halt. I’ll give you two days.”

“A week. Minimum.” His gaze was flat and cold. I’d thought I’d seen his icy exterior crack earlier, but either I was mistaken or he’d reinforced his defenses. “And I prefer two weeks.”

“Four days. I’ll reevaluate after that,” I countered.

He nodded. “Fine. Now go get settled. I’ll see you in the shelter in two hours for supper.”

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