Blood In The Stars by Jennifer Shea

thrust into his mind, suddenly as sharp and piercing as though it had just happened. They had come for Alice then. Despite everything he had done to protect her, in the end he had failed. It was his fault Alice died. Because of his mistakes.
    A warm hand curled around his arm and he looked down to see Daria gazing up at him with worried eyes. “Jason? Are you all right?”
    “I’m . . .” He wanted to tell her he was fine. Absolutely swell. But he couldn’t. He hadn’t spent his days watching over her for things to come to this. One second of lost vigilance meant her death. He would never let what happened to Alice happen to Daria. Never .
    Jason straightened and patted her hand. “Finish your work. I’ll wrap up here.”
    She rubbed her cheek against his arm and sent him a playful smile. “I’m done. I’ll get another bottle of wine.”
    He threw away the last of the broken glass and together they went to the dining table. Soon, they settled into their food and wine, with her files neatly stacked to the side and her laptop shut down for the night.
    “Thanks for staying. I hope you weren’t too bored.”
    He shook his head. Daria was his joy. He could never be bored while with her.
    Jason held up his glass. “To damsels in distress.”
    Daria laughed and clinked her glass with his. “And heroes in shining armor.”
    “You know,” she began after tasting her wine, “I meant to say last time, but you have a very interesting last name.”
    Jason shrugged. “‘Angel?’ Not common perhaps, but there are many Angels out there.”
    Later, in between bites of linguine and gnocchi, Jason noticed Daria eyeing his wrists. “What are those?” She pointed her fork at his wrists.
    Crap ! He should have known this would come up. She’d been looking at them last night, too.
    “Oh, they’re like all those other bands that guys wear,” he replied nonchalantly. “For foundations and stuff.”
    “So what do those support?”
    “Religion,” he replied smoothly. Without asking, he refilled her wine.
    Her expression reflected confusion. “Huh?”
    “They are a gift of the Church.”
    “Oh, wow. Can I see?” Daria put down her fork and reached for his wrists. He wanted to pull back, to hide them away as he had that night. But what could he say? No, I don’t want you to look at it. That sounded strange even in his head.
    “These are cool. Is it leather?” She turned the band this way and that. “They look a little tight,” she mused. She lifted the clasp slightly in her investigation, oblivious that it sent stinging shots of pain up his arm.
    “It doesn’t seem like there’s a way to take them off.” Daria looked up at him sharply. “You can’t remove them?”
    Jason withdrew his hands, unable to bear her questions any longer. “No,” he clipped.
    She bristled at his curt response and quickly stared down at her food. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
    Contrition gnawed at him. “Hey,” he reached across the table and picked up her hand. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s a family thing. We all wear them. I shouldn’t have made it into such a big deal.”
    He hoped the explanation placated her, as he had not yet prepared anything better. If he told her about the bands, he’d have to tell her about his House.
    Jason brushed his thumb across the back of her hand and after a few seconds, her face softened to a smile. She looked at him through hooded lids, whether from the long day or the wine, he didn’t know. But he hoped it was a result of being with him.
    Twenty-seven years of watching and waiting. Now that he sat in front of her, could he indulge in the idea that she liked him? Or, in his hope of hopes, could he ever win her love?
    Even if that love might destroy them?

Chapter 6
    Daria had rushed through her assignment for Mr. Burke because she wanted more time with Jason. But she still found it difficult to choose between her job and her social life.
    She had escaped death