Love Song For A Raven

Chapter 2

Janna had no warning. One instant she had her head down as she bent over to bail out the water that was slopping around her ankles. The next instant the world tilted wildly. She tried to throw herself clear as the boat capsized, but her cramped legs responded much too slowly. It was the same for her arms. Instinctively she flung them out as though to break a fall, but only managed to jam the steering arm of the outboard engine through the armhole of her life vest.

The bottom of the boat flipped over her, shutting out the light. Even as chilled as she was the water felt cold. She was dragged over as the motor turned with the boat. In the water and darkness she was disoriented, tangled with the engine, not knowing in which direction lay freedom. With a feeling of horror she realized that the boat was sinking deeper into the cold sea, pulling her down with it despite her struggles.

Suddenly Janna was caught from behind. Something clamped around her arm and yanked. The life vest ripped away, freeing her. She was spun around, pushed down and then jerked upward.

Where there had been only darkness beneath the boat, now Janna saw far above her a silver disk that shimmered and beckoned. Feebly she tried to swim upward, for instinct and intelligence both told her that if she broke through that silver light there would be air and warmth on the other side. Even as she struggled, she realized dimly that she was going up far faster than her own efforts could account for.

Janna burst through the radiant disk and began to drag air into her aching lungs, breathing in great rasps of sound. Gradually she realized that she wasn’t alone. She was being supported by a man’s big hands. Eyes as dark and deep as a midnight sea were watching her. Above those unflinching eyes a thick growth of raven-black hair was slicked against a skull whose bones were as powerful and un-compromising as the hands that were holding her above the inlet’s choppy waves.

As though her eyes focusing on him were the signal he had been waiting for, the man turned Janna gently in his hands and brought her shoulder blades across his chest. He held her in place by putting his right arm between her breasts until she was pinned to his chest. His arm was thick, almost overwhelming in its implicit strength. She sensed a stirring behind her, felt her body floating, and then a deep swirl of water boiled up as powerful legs scissor-kicked, propelling her and the man through the water.

With a feeling of vast relief, Janna stopped fighting the cold and the sea, giving herself wordlessly to the stranger’s strength.

„That’s it,“ said a very deep voice in her ear. „Relax. You’re safe.“

Like everything else Janna had seen of the stranger, the voice was strong, big, dark.

„We’re almost to my boat.“

The words growled against her ear like stones tumbled by storm waves. She tried to answer but found the effort beyond her. Words swirled around in her mind without connecting. Dimly she realized that she was no longer cold. At some point she had just gone numb all the way to her core, losing all feeling.

„I’ve got to climb on board. Hold on to the ladder until I pull you up. Can you do that?“

The world turned lazily around Janna. Black eyes came slowly into focus.

„Did you hear me?“

Janna stared at the man, wondering what he wanted from her. When she saw her left hand being tugged through the rungs of a sea ladder, she felt a bizarre impulse to laugh. A big, tanned hand wrapped her fingers around a rung. He reached for her right hand, only to encounter the drowned bleach bottle.

„You can let go now,“ he told her. „You don’t need it anymore. You’re safe.“

The voice rumbled and reverberated down Jenna’s spine like distant thunder, reaching her on a level deeper than intelligence, sinking down to touch the same instinct that had made her keep on fighting even when she had no more strength. She accepted the absolute truth of the stranger’s words. She was safe. She had known she was safe from the instant she had felt his strong hands pushing her up into the life-giving air.

Slowly, painfully, Janna’s fingers unlocked, letting the bleach bottle go. It sank swiftly, a pale shadow fading into the depths of the sea. Under the man’s urging she wrapped her fingers around the ladder and hung on. She saw him grasp the low metal railing that ran along the gunwale of the boat. Muscles rippled and bunched while he pulled himself out of the water as casually as she would have stepped from the street to the sidewalk. Before she had a chance to absorb the implications of that kind of strength, she felt herself lifted from the sea and carried into a small cabin as though she weighed no more than a puff of wind.

„Hang on to me.“

Janna obeyed as the world shifted again. Vaguely she realized that her feet were resting on something solid. In the next moment her knees gave way. Only the strong arm around her waist kept her from pitching face-first onto the deck. She clung to the man with numbed hands as he shifted the engines from neutral and slapped the throttles up. A throaty roar came in response. The boat surged forward, racing up the inlet.

For long minutes there was only the thunder of powerful engines and the unwavering strength of the man supporting her. Then the engines were shut off. He let go of her just long enough to moor the boat and then he returned. He began stripping off her clothes with swift, casual motions. She blinked and pushed vaguely at his hands. It was like trying to hold back the tide with a sigh. Desperately she reached for more strength, but every bit she had was already involved in the huge shudders that were racking her body.

„Don’t fight me, small warrior,“ he rumbled gently. „You’ll never get warm in those soaking clothes.“

Janna looked at the man with confused, gray-green eyes, wanting to ask who he was and how she had gotten there and why she was so terribly cold. Nothing came out but an odd whimper as the last of her strength bled away and the world darkened around her.

Raven caught her against his body, peeled off the remainder of her clothes and carried her to his oversize bunk. The sight of her pulse beating against the smooth curve of her neck reassured him, but her skin was far too cold. He yanked back the blankets from the bunk and dried her as best he could before he slid her between the sheets. He pulled off his clothes with harsh sweeps of his hands, ripping cloth in his haste. Pausing only long enough to jerk a special blanket from a cupboard, he crawled into the bunk with her.

„I don’t know if you can hear me,“ Raven said as he arranged the woman on top of his big body, „but you’re going to be warm again. This survival blanket takes every bit of our heat and reflects it back to us. It wouldn’t do you much good by yourself, but as long as I’m wrapped up with you it’s better than a bonfire. I’m too damn big to be chilled by a few minutes in a summer ocean.“

There was no response from the woman but the convulsive shuddering of a body that had been pushed too hard and now was too cold to warm itself. Raven shook out the survival blanket and wrapped both of them within its thin, flexible folds. The inner, heat-reflecting side of the blanket gleamed in shades of silver. The outer, heat-absorbing side of the blanket was a midnight blue as dark as the sodden flannel shirt that lay in shreds on the deck by the bunk.

Long shudders of the woman’s body threatened to shake off the blanket. Raven’s hands moved gently over her, both soothing and slowly rubbing warmth back into her clenched muscles. After a long time her body began to relax as the violence of her shivering waned. He shifted slightly, bringing her into more complete contact with the heat of his body. She murmured and instinctively burrowed closer to the abundant warmth that was radiating into her.

Raven’s hands gently massaged the long, slender back to the swell of the woman’s buttocks. The firm, deep muscles were still cool to his touch but no longer chilled. She was bruised, numb, exhausted, but no longer in danger of succumbing to hypothermia. He smiled and felt a sense of satisfaction that for once his body had been good for something more than drawing sideways stares from strangers. He wondered if the woman would be frightened when she awoke and saw what had fished her from the sea.

He hoped not. Even half-drowned and utterly exhausted, she had looked sleek and very feminine beneath the soggy clothes. She also felt amazingly good in his arms, fitting against his body with a perfection that would have shortened his breath in other circumstances and was threatening to do so even now. Her hips swelled smoothly beneath his hands. Her breasts were soft and her nipples were as hard as pebbles against his chest. He wondered if she would respond like that to heat rather than cold – a man’s heat. Would she come to a man with the same elemental passion and courage with which she had faced the storm?

The thought chased the last of the cold from Raven’s body. He felt a surge of hot, sweet heaviness in his blood. Abruptly he cast his willpower over his glittering, leaping thoughts as though they were wild salmon coming to the net. She had trusted him enough to give herself over to his keeping despite the fact that he must have looked almost as frightening as the sea to her. He would no more violate that trust than he would have let her drown before his eyes.

„Can you hear me yet?“ he asked softly, feeling his own deep voice rumble in his chest. „You’re going to be fine. A few hours of sleep, some warm food, a few lazy days, and you’ll be ready to tackle me with one hand tied behind your back.“

The thought of anyone taking him on like that made Raven smile. He was still smiling when the woman’s head stirred and wide eyes studied him through dense eyelashes. At close range her eyes were the color of a cedar forest veiled by silver fog. They were deep, intelligent, exquisitely clear.

Janna blinked, trying to connect the resilient warmth beneath her with the clear, oddly gentle black eyes that were so close to her own.

„You’re very warm,“ she said slowly, grappling with each word through a haze of exhaustion.

„You aren’t,“ he said, amusement clear in his deep voice as he ran his palm down to her cool, naked thigh.

„I know.“ She sighed and let her head sag onto his chest, too exhausted to keep her eyes open any longer. „What… happened?“

„Sleep,“ he said softly as he pulled the survival blanket up over her wet hair. „You’ll remember when you wake up.“

Raven felt her breath wash over him with reassuring warmth. Her body changed subtly, taking on the heaviness of utter relaxation. Before she took another breath she was asleep. The trust implied by that simple act washed over Raven in another kind of warmth until it was a subtle radiance shimmering within the darkest reaches of his mind. His breath sighed out to mingle with hers. He fell asleep with the scent of the woman and the sea reaching out to him, surrounding him.

Janna woke slowly. With one hand, she reached out, fumbling for the control on her electric blanket. She must have been very cold when she went to bed last night; she had left the dial on high. Even her pillow was hot. Blindly her fingers began searching for the control that hung over the mattress midway down the bed. What she found was smooth, firm, resilient, as hot as satin left out in the sun. She searched the surface with sleepy curiosity, wondering if she were still dreaming. Something stirred beneath her touch.

„Careful, woman. You’re fishing in rocky waters.“

Janna’s eyes flew open and her head came up in a rush as she propped herself on her elbow. An odd, silvery blanket slithered aside with her sudden motion, revealing an expanse of bare male chest that was frankly intimidating – or would have been if she hadn’t grown up with men nearly as large. Black hair gleamed in a neat wedge that tapered swiftly to a dark line bisecting a very large, very powerful body. Farther down the hair fanned out into a black tangle. That was where her hand was. Her fingers weren’t resting in that tangle of masculine hair. Not quite.

With a gasp, Janna yanked back her hand. „I’m sorry, I… I…“ Suddenly she realized that she was as naked as the giant who had stirred beneath her touch. She had been lying half on, half off his body, her breasts nestled against the muscular swell of his arm. „Who…what?“

„People here call me Raven,“ he said in a voice so deep that it vibrated down her spine. „As for what – “

„Never mind,“ she interrupted quickly, feeling a blush crawl from her breasts to her cheeks. „I might have gone crazy, but I haven’t forgotten eighth-grade science.“

„Science?“ he asked, as he reached for the survival blanket that was sliding farther away with every instant.

„Human reproduction,“ she said succinctly.

Raven’s laughter sent odd shivers through Janna. It was such a rich sound, as warm and textured as his very masculine flesh had been beneath her fingertips.

Janna’s blush deepened at the sensual direction of her own thoughts. The cold water must have frozen what passed for her brain.

Abruptly memories exploded. Cold. Storm. Water. A silver disk floating impossibly far above her head. Everything came rushing back on Janna with dizzying force. She stared at the man lying so close to her. Strong hands. Black eyes. A voice like waves breaking over rocks, yet somehow warm, caressing. She had known it instinctively. She was safe with him.

„You saved my life.“

„You fought with everything you had in you and them some,“ Raven said. „I just gave you a little hand.“

Janna looked at the broad, dark, strong hand holding the strange blanket, pulling it up over her, tucking her within its warm folds. She would have died out in the storm if it hadn’t been for those strong hands. She knew it.

„Little?“ she repeated softly. „There was nothing little about it.“

Raven held up his hand as though he had never seen it before and nodded. „You’re right. There’s nothing little about it,“ he said, deliberately misunderstanding. As casually as though he were alone, he leaned forward until he could flip the dark blue bed sheet up over his naked hips. „Warm enough?“ he asked, looking at her with concern.

„Yes. Thank you.“ Even as Janna spoke, more memories came. She had been so cold she could barely feel the deck beneath her feet. She had been unable to stand, to swim, even to breathe. „I… if it hadn’t been for you…“

With a shrug of massive shoulders, Raven said, „I’ve always been bigger than the people around me. It’s good to know that I’m useful for more than pulling nets and scaring children.“

Janna blinked, sensing the loneliness beneath the matter-of-fact words. For all his rough looks and overwhelming male power, Raven was not an insensitive man. Impulsively she put her hand on the bunched strength of his shoulder. „I’ll bet the children run toward you, not away,“ she said softly.

„They know they’ll be safe with you. I knew it,“ she added, gray-green eyes searching his. „Raven, I don’t know how to thank – “

„You must be thirsty,“ he said, cutting off her words.

Janna suddenly realized two things: Raven didn’t want her thanks, and she was thirsty. Her throat felt as though it were lined with sandpaper. „Yes,“ she said, hearing the rasp in her own voice.

„Swallowing saltwater will do it to you every time. I’ve got tea, coffee, water or soup.“

„Tea. Please.“

Janna tried not to watch as Raven rolled out of the bunk in a single coordinated movement, taking the sheet with him. She tried, but not looking at him was impossible. He was so big that he filled the cabin. On him, the navy blue cloth he wrapped casually around his hips looked the size of a beach towel rather than a bed sheet. She had come from a family of big men, and at five feet nine inches wasn’t exactly small herself; but the man called Raven was a giant.

He was also compelling in the same wild, primitive way that the surrounding land was compelling. The naked strength and endurance in him tugged at her senses, as did the laughter and solitude that gleamed deep within his black eyes. Potent, vital, alone, Raven called to her at levels she hadn’t even known she had until she had awakened with his life’s heat radiating through her.

What a pity she didn’t call to him in the same way.

Janna’s mouth curved down in a sad smile. She had awakened naked in bed with the most intriguing man she had ever met, and he had treated her like a sister even after her hand had blundered into such intimate contact with his body. She was used to being treated like a sister. After all, she was one. Sister to three strapping brothers. That didn’t bother her. Being treated like a sister by her ex-husband – that had bothered her.

Wryly Janna conceded that she shouldn’t be surprised that Raven hadn’t been physically intrigued by her. She blew a limp, damp string of hair away from her nose and sighed. She had no illusions as to how she looked under the best of circumstances. Striking was what her family said. Privately, Janna had decided that was what people told tall women they liked who didn’t possess the soft, blond, kittenish looks that men invariably preferred. Having just been fished from the sea half-drowned and blue with cold, Janna knew she must look about as appealing as a beached jellyfish.

No wonder Raven hadn’t wanted her gratitude. The poor man must have been terrified that she would offer to pay him off in bed. Again Janna smiled wryly. He had reason to worry. He wouldn’t have gotten any great bargain from accepting her offer. Experienced she was not. She could count on one hand the number of times her husband had made love to her during their short „marriage.“

„Such sad eyes,“ Raven said. „Worrying about what happened? Don’t. You’re safe now. I’ll take you back to civilization as soon as the storm blows over. As for your boat…“ he shrugged. „I’ll see that you get a new one. And a decent engine to go with it.“

Janna’s eyelashes swept down, concealing her emotions. Then the comment about the engine penetrated. Her eyes opened wide as she looked up at Raven. „How did you know that the engine gave me trouble?“

„Nobody rows the west side of the islands in a storm for the sheer joy of it,“ Raven said dryly. „One lump or two?“

„I feel like I’ve already taken fifty,“ Janna said, rubbing her left arm. „Two lumps, please. How did you know I liked sugar in my tea?“

„You look like a woman who enjoys her senses,“ he said matter-of-factly. „Is your arm still cramped?“

„Was it cramped?“ asked Janna, looking at her left arm with new interest and wondering what Raven had meant about her enjoying her senses.

„Don’t you remember?“

Janna frowned, drawing dark cinnamon eyebrows down in soft, twin curves. „I remember that damned engine quitting and starting and quitting until finally it went dead. I remember rowing.“ She looked at her hands. They were red, chafed and blistered here and there from the rough oar handles. „I remember being cold.“

„Do you remember bailing?“

„Sure. Every chance I got.“ She grimaced. „It wasn’t often enough, though.“

„What do you remember after you saw the Black Star?“

Janna looked around at the beautifully finished interior of the boat. „Is this the Black Star?“ she asked, indicating the boat with her hand, then yanking the blanket hurriedly into place as it slithered down her breasts.

Raven nodded. With an effort of will he kept from staring at the corner of the blanket, where one nipple peeked invitingly from beneath the silver folds. The blush that had risen up Janna’s clear, flawless skin when she had realized that she was naked and in bed with a stranger had told Raven that she wasn’t accustomed to waking up that way. Her curious, incendiary touch as she explored his rapidly hardening flesh had told him that she wasn’t accustomed to men, period. Nor was she a child. He guessed that she was in her early twenties. Most women her age would have known instantly what that particular part of a man’s anatomy felt like between the sheets. She hadn’t.

That had been all that had kept Raven from returning the favor, running his hand down her warm, supple body to discover the heat deep inside her. He was sure that sensual heat was there, and he was sure that she would give it to him if he asked. She was so damned grateful for being fished out of the inlet.

Raven’s mouth turned down in a hard curve. He wasn’t that kind of predator, despite his name and his looks. He wouldn’t take advantage of her gratitude. The woman with the sad eyes and brave smile wasn’t a predator, either. Once the emotions of the instant wore off, she would regret having given in gratitude what she had been born to give in love.

But not to him. Experience had taught Raven that he just wasn’t the kind of man that women loved. He was too big. Too hard. Too rough. Too Indian. To make it worse, he was invariably attracted to his opposite – like the deliriously soft, wonderfully supple woman he had found fighting the sea. Usually such women proved to be disappointing in other ways, lacking the core of humor and courage that he valued far more than he valued mere looks.

Angel had been different. She had discovered in herself enough raw courage for ten people. And so had the woman he had pulled from the sea, the woman watching him now with clear, silver-green eyes. Trusting him.

Gently Raven tucked the blanket in around Janna’s shoulders, concealing the tempting pink nipple from sight. „Do you feel like breakfast?“ he asked.

„Gee, I don’t know. Do I look like breakfast?“ she shot back, embarrassed to realize that she had been hanging out of the blanket like a ripe raspberry and all he could think of was covering her up. Then she heard her own words all but demanding that Raven notice her nakedness. She groaned at the flush climbing up her cheeks once more. „You saved the body, but I’m afraid you left the brains at the bottom of the inlet.“

„I’ll look for them when I fish for dinner,“ Raven promised blandly, but his eyes gleamed like polished jet. „Do you have a name, or are you like the shamans, giving your true name to no one?“

„Janna Moran,“ she said. She eased her right arm cautiously out from beneath the slippery blanket and held out her hand. „And you’re – Raven?“

„Yes,“ he said, taking her hand.

For a moment they smiled at each other, silently recognizing the incongruity of introducing themselves after they had awakened naked in one another’s arms. Janna’s fingers looked slender and very feminine against the weathered toughness of Raven’s hand. He remembered how those fingers had felt exploring him sleepily.

„Is that a first or a last name?“ Janna asked as Raven released her hand and turned away quickly.

„When I fill out forms for the government, it’s a last name, and Carlson is my first name. Otherwise, Raven is the name most people use.“

He hesitated, thinking of Angel. She and Grant had called him Carlson. But Grant was dead. Only Angel called him Carlson now – and Miles Hawkins, Hawk, the man Angel loved. Hawk called him Carlson, too.

Raven smiled slightly, remembering how he had felt when he had discovered the depth of Angel’s love for another man. He supposed he should have hated Hawk, but hatred was impossible. Hawk had given Angel the very heart of life. Raven loved him for that as he had never loved another man.

„But not everyone calls you Raven,“ Janna said softly, seeing the bittersweet smile on Raven’s lips. Janna wanted to ask who the woman was who could make Raven smile with such love and sadness, but Janna said nothing. It was enough to know that there was a woman, and love and sadness. „What shall I call you?“

„Raven. It’s how I think of myself, now.“

Janna smiled, feeling somehow as though she had received a gift.

„Raven,“ Janna said, liking the feel of the name on her tongue.

Raven smiled down at Janna, wondering what thoughts moved in the shadowed depths beneath the clear silver-green of her eyes. The smile she gave him in return was open, friendly, engaging, humorous. It was also subtly different from the ones he had seen before he tucked the blanket around her shoulders. Part of Janna’s personality was now concealed, the part that had shimmered just beneath the surface of her eyes when she looked at him and saw the man who had pulled her from the cold water.

Raven frowned slightly, feeling as he always did when he saw life flashing just below the green surface of the sea, life turning and diving for the cool, safe depths, life sliding away from his presence. Somehow, something beautiful and fragile had gone, and there was only the vague glimmer of reflected light to mark its passing.

„Is there anyone waiting for you?“ Raven asked.

„Waiting?“

Janna’s confusion told Raven more than he had asked. She lived alone, as he did, and she had lived that way for so long that the idea of people worrying about her absence simply didn’t occur to her.

„A husband, a lover, family, friends,“ he said softly, searching gray-green eyes. „Anyone who might be worried about you being out in a small boat in a storm.“

„Oh.“ Janna laughed lightly and shrugged. „No. I’m twenty-four and fancy-free. I haven’t had a husband for years, never had kids at all, my friends don’t expect me back in Seattle until September and my landlady doesn’t care where I am as long as the rent is on time. She drinks, you see. I’m paid through August, so she’s not going to worry if I never come back.“

Raven didn’t know which surprised him more, that Janna had been married or that she was utterly alone in the Queen Charlottes for the next few weeks.

„Are you on vacation?“ he asked.

Janna shrugged again. „Sort of. I’m doing some line drawings for a friend’s book on the Queen Charlottes. I’ve been trying for weeks to get to Totem Inlet, but something always happened.“

„Something?“

„Rain, usually. Mist, a lot. Wind, too.“

Raven smiled. „Welcome to the Queen Charlottes.“

„Yeah. Welcome all to hell.“ Janna laughed, taking the bite out of her words.

Slowly laughter faded. For a moment her eyes seemed almost silver once more, passion and emotion shimmering just below the surface.

„I’ve never seen a more savage place,“ she said, „or one that is more beautiful. The islands are… elemental. Creation is very close to the surface here, almost close enough to touch.“ She hesitated, then added softly, „It’s as though the Charlottes have a special understanding with time. Time comes to the islands and then divides around them and passes by on either side like the sea. Other places change, but not the Charlottes. They have always been like this, barely condensed out of the mists of creation. Here, time doesn’t exist. Only creation and mist.“

For the second time since Raven had seen Janna, his scalp tightened as a wave of awareness shivered through him. Other people had noted that the islands had a savage aura, but to those people savage had meant backward, awkward, brutal, uncivilized. They had been afraid of the islands’ raw strength and mysterious core of timelessness. Janna wasn’t, even though she had nearly died exploring it.

„Yes,“ Raven said softly. „I love these islands, too. I come to them to renew my own silences.“

„And now you’re saddled with a chatty tourist,“ Janna said, grimacing. „Sorry about that.“

„No problem,“ he said. „You’re a woman who understands silence. You won’t disturb me.“

Janna couldn’t help wondering what it would take for a woman to disturb Raven. She had no doubt that it would take a woman rather than a man; her former husband had taught her to be very aware of the fact that there were men who dated and married women but who could only be sexually attracted to another man. Raven wasn’t like that. She was sure of it.

With a hidden sigh, Janna decided that Raven was probably like most men, drawn to blondes who had big mysterious eyes and more curves than a mountain road. The old cliche about gentlemen preferring blondes was quite true. So did jocks, thugs, poets and nerds. Forget women with brown hair, no matter how great their sense of humor.

Nobody ever cared if a blonde had a sense of humor, great or otherwise.

„You never answered my question about breakfast,“ Raven said. He looked over his shoulder and checked the progress of the water heating in a kettle on the small galley stove that was just across the aisle from his bunk. „Are you hungry?“

„Are you kidding? That isn’t thunder you’re hearing, it’s my stomach,“ she announced, waving her hand dramatically, only to have to make a wild grab for the drifting blanket.

Raven glanced away quickly, not wanting Janna to realize that she had inadvertently shown him a firmly curved breast topped by a nipple that was such a velvety pink that he had to clench his hands against reaching toward her.

The teakettle whistled, offering Raven a much-needed distraction. He lifted the kettle and poured water into two mugs, wondering how Janna would react if he told her how perfect she had felt stretched out along his body. Soft. Resilient. No hard edges or angles. But if he said anything like that to her, it would sound like the opening gambit in a bid for sex. He knew that she didn’t want that anymore. He had seen the desire fade from her after he had tucked in the blanket around her shoulders. The shimmering veils of passionate emotion had gone as though they had never existed, leaving only laughter in her clear gray-green eyes.

He wondered why that made him feel both sad and very angry, as though he should have taken what she had offered when she had offered it and not had any scruples about why she wanted him. Other women had wanted or not wanted him, and it hadn’t mattered in any real way. Except for Angel. Her rejection had made pain a part of his everyday life. Finally, long before Miles Hawkins had met Angel, Raven had understood that some things were not meant to be. For him, Angel was one of them. He could either accept that, or he could destroy himself over it.

In the end, he had accepted it as he accepted storms and elusive fish and the powerful body that made men and women nervous. Life was what it was. He was what he was. Love was what it was.

Beyond his reach.