Fallen Angel (Hqn) (6 page)

* * *

S
HE
DIDN
’
T
LIKE
IT
WHEN
Declan was gone. The others—the nurses—were nice to her. But she only felt safe and happy when he was with her.

The men had come to talk to her. Police, they’d told her they were called. She didn’t like the questions they asked her. She’d turned away from them, closed her eyes, pretending to sleep until they went away. She’d heard them tell the nurse they’d be back another time. She hoped Declan would be there. She didn’t want to face those men without him. They’d tried to be kind, but their faces were too hard, too eager. She didn’t like it. And she didn’t want to answer their questions. She wasn’t going to talk to the men about The Grandmother. Asmodeus. She would tell Declan, maybe, once she was feeling stronger.

He said he’d come back. She hoped it would be soon. She was awake now, and unsure what to do with her time.

She’d spent a few hours simply taking in everything around her. It was a barren place, this hospital. The walls were white, with just one small picture of flowers in a watering can. It only made her miss her garden more. She hoped someone would care for her plants, her herbs and flowers. She hoped someone would care for The Grandmother. She was getting old, and her body hurt. Who would mix her tinctures? Cook for her? Help her from her chair in the evenings?

Maybe there would be another girl, a new Gift. She’d known there were other girls in the compound, even though she wasn’t allowed to see or talk with them. She could hear their young voices over the garden wall sometimes. Had heard The Grandmother make some muttering reference to them when she was not quite asleep or in pain. It made her feel better, knowing The Grandmother wouldn’t always be alone.

She knew what alone was. If it hadn’t been for The Grandmother and Asmodeus she would have always been alone. As she was now. And she was too awake to call for Asmodeus; he only came to her when she was dreaming.

She missed him. Her body craved his voice, his instruction, even in pain as she was. But her body had a new yearning. For Declan. Her body and her heart.

She understood he had saved her. She would always be grateful to him. And he was beautiful to her, maybe more so because of her gratitude. His touch set her on fire, even his fingertips on her cheek, and she knew she would have responded to him this same way no matter the circumstances.

But she would have to wait until her body had healed to show him how she felt. If he would give her the chance. She hoped he would not reject her, too. But she would try and try, as she’d been taught, until she was certain of her failure.

She turned to the window to watch the twilit sky. The rain had stopped, leaving the fog behind. It rolled along the branches of the trees, soft in its shadow colors, shades of gray and white. It made her think of the stories she’d read, about the spirits of the trees who lived in the forest, hiding in the mist. It made her think of the sparrows who lived in the trees in The Grandmother’s garden, the hummingbirds who drank from the flowers, the call of the ravens, who were black as night.

She was growing bored with her own thoughts when Declan returned.

“Hey. You’re awake.”

“Yes.”

His smile was warm, his lips lush, his teeth strong and white. She saw the scar on his jaw again, felt a small twinge for whatever he had suffered. But it was hard to feel bad with him smiling at her.

“How are you feeling? Is the pain under control?”

“For the most part. My shoulder blades hurt where they were cut, but I can bear it. My leg is not bothering me. The medicine they give me helps.”

“That’s good. What have you been doing, Angel?” he asked, stepping closer.

“Telling myself stories.”

“Stories? What kind of stories?”

“Pretty tales of birds and rabbits. You know.”

“I’m not sure I do.”

“I remember stories I’ve read, and then I take parts of them and put them back together again. In my head. It passes the time.”

He seemed puzzled. “Ah. Why don’t you just turn on the TV?”

“TV?”

“The television.”

She shook her head, confused.

“You…don’t know television?” he asked, gesturing to a box with a dark window in it, mounted somehow close to the ceiling.

“I don’t know this thing.”

“Jesus.”

Declan ran a hand through his dark hair, sat in the chair beside her bed. She wanted to touch his shining hair, to see what it felt like beneath her fingers. But she thought it better to wait until he no longer seemed so concerned.

“Angel, you have no idea what a television is,” he said, his tone low, his brows drawn together.

She wasn’t sure why this was so important. She shook her head again.

“You really are an innocent, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I am innocent, untouched.” She felt excitement that he would broach this subject with her. Her body surged with wanting.

“What?”

“I am untouched by man, as I should be.”

He flinched. Why did he seem so surprised? She didn’t understand.

“Declan, should I not have said this to you?”

“No, it’s fine. Fine.”

But he was running his hand through his hair again, which she recognized already as a sign of agitation.

“Angel. Have you thought about what you’ll do when you get out of here?”

“Leave the hospital?”

“Yes.”

“This is not to be my place, then?”

“No, of course not.”

“Oh.”

She let her gaze wander to the window, where she could see the cool green treetops. She knew she should be paying closer attention, but this was all so confusing.

“Angel?”

She turned back to Declan. “Yes?”

He sighed. “You’ll have to live somewhere after they let you go. I want to help you.”

“I am to live with you, then? In your place?”

“What? No. I meant I’d get you set up in an apartment, or a small house somewhere.”

“Without you?”

“I… Yes.”

Her heart was hammering in her chest, like the short, sharp clattering of the baby sparrows that had hatched in the garden one year.

“Please do not ask me to go without you, Declan.”

“Angel…look, I live alone in a house pretty much in the middle of the forest. It’s just me and my dog. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“Why would it not be appropriate?”

“Because you’ve just come through a trauma. You need to be taken care of.”

“Will you not take care of me, Declan?”

His hand went into his hair again. “I don’t… You need a nurse or something. And I have to work most days.”

“Oh. I don’t want to be a burden to you. You have work to do, of course. I understand.”

Disappointment beat a sad, steady cadence in her chest, but she would not tell him.

“Angel, you really will need a nurse for a while.”

“I can nurse myself. I always have. I cared for The Grandmother when she was ill.”

“Is that who you lived with? Your grandmother?”

“Not
my
grandmother. She is The Grandmother. The leader. She is my guardian. She was…”

He pulled one of the small, hard chairs to her bedside and sat down, resting his palms on his knees. He wore blue jeans. The Grandmother had sometimes worn blue jeans. She had given her a pair of her own once, but she’d found them too restrictive. She much preferred dresses.

Declan touched her arm briefly, making her focus on him once more. “Angel? Do you know how long you were with her?”

“As far back as I remember. Almost.”

“Almost?”

She didn’t like to think of the time before. It was a blur, dreamlike. A happiness just out of reach. Too insubstantial to hold on to.

Declan’s gaze was bright, intense, his brows drawn together.

“Are these things important, Declan?”

“Yes. I think they might be. Can you tell me about her? The Grandmother?”

She sighed, running the fingertips of her unhurt hand over the edge of the white sheet. “She is very old. So old her skin is like the bark of the oak tree. Her eyes are dark and shining. She knows all there is to know. She taught me the ways of growing things, the herbs to heal and hurt. She taught me to cook, so that I can nurture the human body. She gave me books to study, and then she would ask me questions to be certain I learned as I should. All things. Of the earth and the sky. How to do things. What things are made of. She gave me books to read of strange people and places. Stories, so that I came to know
people.
Humans. She wanted me to know our faults. Our beauty. She guided me in all things.”

She thought briefly, longingly, of Asmodeus, of his sensual instruction, his teachings about her body. How to please the body of a man. She thought of his low voice, the way it seemed to caress her skin, even though he never touched her. Looking at Declan, she let her gaze wander to his mouth, then his hands. She wanted to touch his mouth, to press her lips to his. To feel his hands on her. Not only her cheek, her arm, but all over her body. Her breasts, between her thighs… “She taught me nearly all things…”

She wanted Declan so badly she ached with it. But he seemed interested only in talking with her now. Perhaps when she had healed he would want her. When she was strong enough to take a man into her body, as she had waited her entire life to do. She squeezed her thighs together to ease the ache there.

“I’m sorry, Declan. What did you ask?”

“I asked if you’re feeling up to talking about this. The Grandmother. Your life with her.”

“It hurts to think of her. That I will not see her again.” She paused, her fingers twisting in the sheet. “That I have been cast out.”

“That’s what happened to you? You were cast out?”

She shrugged. “Yes. I will never go back there, to the compound. To The Grandmother. Even if I knew my way back. I don’t know what I will do now, what my life will be.”

“I’ll help you figure that out. We just need to find a place for you when you’re released in a few days. I’ll talk to your doctor, figure things out from there. Okay?”

“Yes. Thank you, Declan.”

She reached for him, took his hand. Surprise rippled across his face, then his fingers closed around hers, his skin warm and dry. And an arc of desire flickered over her skin. She could see in his face he felt it, too. He tried to draw his hand back, but she held on as tightly as she could.

“Angel…”

“Don’t let go, Declan. Don’t let me go.”

He stared at her, his lips parted. She wanted more than ever to feel his kiss on her lips, her flesh.

He cleared his throat. “I have to go. I have to talk to the doctor now.”

She sighed. “But you’ll be back?”

“Yes. I promise.”

She released his hand, but her body was still filled with wanting. And she was so tired. She was always tired now, it seemed.

“I think I will sleep while you’re away.”

“I’ll shut off the light on my way out.”

He smiled, stood and left the room. Left her system humming with need.

She lay in the dark, wishing sleep would come so she could call to Asmodeus to satisfy her needs. But sleep eluded her.

Instead, she let her left hand, the one undamaged, wander beneath the cool white sheet, over her body. She touched her breasts, her fingertips feathering over the hardening nipples, imagining Declan’s touch. Her breasts grew full, warm, her nipples like two stones, the flesh rising to meet her fingers. She pulled on them lightly, then harder, as Asmodeus had often instructed her, bringing them to two fine points.

She spread her thighs and dipped her hand between them, desire swarming her as her fingers slipped in the wetness there. She rubbed the lips of her sex, felt them swell beneath her touch.

What would Declan’s hands feel like between her thighs? His mouth?

“Ah…”

Pleasure stabbed deep, simply thinking about his head between her thighs, his tongue hot and wet. Asmodeus had often told her how this could be done. Her hips arched and she slid one fingertip inside her sex, careful not to probe too deeply, not to breach her maidenhead. But how she wanted that sensation of being filled. By Declan.

She pictured his face once more, looking at her body. Would he keep his gaze on hers as he entered her? Or would his eyes clench shut in ecstasy?

She shivered, need shimmering through her in small waves that grew moment by moment. She pressed the heel of her hand against her mound, hard over her tight clitoris.

Declan…

Would he kiss her as he drove into her body? Would he put his hot mouth on her neck? Take her nipples into his mouth?

“Ah…”

Her hips were pumping up to meet her hand, her sex growing wetter and wetter. And in her mind it was Declan’s hands on her, his mouth, drawing her nipples in, his tongue swirling over the tips while he pressed deep into her flesh.

Her climax shimmered like a mirage in the distance, then roared through her, taking her by surprise. Hard and fast, the spasms of pleasure taking her over, blinding her.

Declan…

Asmodeus’s voice resonated in her head.

Come, girl. Come for me.

“No, not for you. For him,” she whispered.

Declan.

Only for him.

She thought she heard Asmodeus’s roar, but her climax was like thunder in her ears, dazzling her, deafening her.

It left her trembling, only that first keen edge satisfied. She wanted him still. She was meant for him, she was certain of it.

Comforted, her body relaxed, and finally she slept.

CHAPTER FOUR

D
ECLAN
PULLED
UP
IN
FRONT
of the hospital and stepped out of his truck. It was a classic Mendocino spring day, the air damp and still heavy with fog, even though it was nearly noon. He patted Liam, who was standing in the truck bed, his stumpy tail wagging, his big tongue lolling.

“Hope you aren’t opposed to change, boy,” he told the dog, knowing full well he was the one who was anxious about it.

He was taking Angel home today. To
his
home. He still couldn’t quite believe it. Still wasn’t certain it was the right thing to do. But what other options were there?

He’d talked to Stephen, to the nurses. She’d need some care for a while, and he could take some time off work, hire a nurse to come in to check on her between doctors’ appointments. That wasn’t a problem. But to have her in his house, where her sweet, earthy body tempted him beyond anything he’d experienced before…

He could handle it.
Would
handle it. She really had no place else to go.

There was no one else to take responsibility for her. The county didn’t want to deal with her, do anything for her. And both Stephen and his dad seemed to think this was the best option for her.

He made his way down a long hallway to the elevator, pressed the button.

The local psychotherapist they’d assigned her to was Ruth Hehewuti, who had evaluated her and had agreed Angel should go to Declan’s house until she was able to care for herself. Ruth was also his father’s girlfriend, which he didn’t like much.

Still, Ruth was one of a handful of qualified therapists in the small coastal town, and Stephen had highly recommended her, so that was something. He’d met her a few times when he’d run into Oran and Ruth at one of the local diners, the grocery store, the farmers’ market. He’d never done more than offer a gruff greeting to the woman. He’d certainly never made an effort to get to know her. He knew he was being a jerk about it. The way he felt about his dad and his dad’s relationship with her wasn’t Ruth’s fault. But he hadn’t been able to help it. Seeing them together always made his blood boil.

He’d had one meeting with her the other day to discuss Angel’s case, and he’d had to put his issues aside for Angel’s sake. She seemed like a nice enough woman, he had to admit grudgingly. She was a lot nicer to him than he probably deserved. A Hopi healer and shaman, Stephen had told him, in addition to being a practicing therapist. He wasn’t sure how he felt about all that spiritual stuff, but Angel was going to need some help adjusting to a world that was strange and new to her. Some help dealing with the trauma of her past, although she didn’t seem to be particularly traumatized by it. She accepted it all pretty calmly, other than being sad about leaving behind that crazy old woman—the woman who had held her captive for what the police and her doctors figured was a good sixteen years, since she was around five years old.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped inside, pressed the button for the fourth floor.

He’d been able to piece together some bits of information during some of her more coherent moments. The picture painted from the things she said, the injuries, the marks on her body, was pretty damn ugly. Unbelievable, still, no matter how many times he went over it in his head.

The nursing staff was really coddling her. Not that he didn’t think she deserved to be coddled, but nurses were usually made of stern stuff, and they all clucked over her like a bunch of mother hens. Anyone in the hospital who knew anything of Angel’s story was horrified. Even the police he’d spoken with seemed shocked. Hell, so was he. Shocked by what she’d been through. By what that grandmother woman had done to her, for years. But Angel was attached to her.

Stockholm Syndrome, Ruth had told him it was called, the weird, psychological phenomenon where victims came to love their kidnappers. He found it hard to relate to, but he’d done some reading and had at least a basic understanding of it. He was trying, anyway, for Angel’s sake. She would definitely need some help with that. It seemed like some pretty twisted shit to him.

The doors opened and he moved down the hall, grateful it was the last time he’d have to see this place for a while. Too many memories here of his mother’s last days. Too many memories of Abby’s body in the hospital morgue in Bahrain. He fucking hated hospitals.

The nurses nodded to him as he passed their station. He’d been coming here for two weeks, and knew most of them by name.

He paused at the door to her room, took a deep breath. His life was about to change. He hadn’t wanted this kind of responsibility for another human being. It scared the shit out of him frankly. But he wouldn’t turn his back on her.

The fact was, he
couldn’t.

When he stepped into the room she was there, sitting on the edge of the bed, her casted leg resting on a chair that was pulled close. The pale sunlight came through the open blinds, gilding her long hair so that it looked more silver than gold. She was dressed in a long-sleeved dress that was the same summer-blue as her eyes. He’d never seen her in real clothing before. She looked different to him. More real. But her smile was the same as ever: brilliant, trusting, innocent and sensual all at the same time.

Lust kicked him hard in the gut. He had to suck in a breath, command himself to calm down.

“Declan! I go home with you today.”

“Yes.”

“I am so happy.”

“Me, too.”

He smiled back at her. He couldn’t help it. She was so beautiful, this girl. So vulnerable. He would do anything for her. He stepped closer.

It wasn’t the first time that thought had passed through his mind. Better not to think about it now, to analyze it. Just get her to the house, get her settled in. He could think about all that other shit when he was alone later in his room. In his bed…

Don’t even go there.

“How are you doing today? Feel okay?”

“I’m just excited.” She paused, her smile fading. “Sheriff Bullock came again today with that policeman.”

She never said the investigating officer’s name—she didn’t like him.

His stomach tightened. He didn’t like to hear when the guy was questioning her without him being there. But at least Tim had been. “Want to tell me about it?”

She glanced away, her fingers smoothing the edge of the sheet on the bed. “He always asks the same questions. He doesn’t like that I only have the same answers.”

“No, I guess he doesn’t. Don’t worry about him right now, okay?”

She sighed. “Okay.”

“Are you all ready, Angel? Do you have your stuff together?”

She’d accepted the name. So had her nursing staff, the doctors. The courts, when one of the social workers sent by the hospital had helped to file the paperwork last week that would give her an identity. It fit her.

“Yes. Liz gave me dresses and sweaters and shoes. Some of the other nurses gave me nightdresses and a brush for my hair and lotion for my skin. It smells so pretty, like my old garden. Here, smell.”

She held her hand to his face and he inhaled automatically.

God, it was
her
beneath the faint scent of lavender and lemons. He couldn’t imagine her smelling like anything else.

Except the raw scent of desire…

Stop it.

An orderly came in with a wheelchair, and the nurses all said their goodbyes, many of them hugging Angel. Then they were riding the elevator down, his arms piled with plastic bags holding her scant belongings. He couldn’t imagine what that was like, to go into life with nothing. Nothing to hold on to, no certainty.

Except for him.

If he thought about it too long the sense of responsibility was overwhelming. He’d chosen not to think about it much.

They reached the ground floor and the orderly wheeled Angel out to his truck. Liam was there, tail-stub wagging like crazy, but he knew not to try and jump out.

“Oh!”

“Angel, are you afraid of dogs? I didn’t think to ask. Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no. The Grandmother has dogs. I liked them. It’s just that…I
know
him. I saw him. I thought he was Cerberus. I thought…but he’s not. He’s yours.”

Cerberus? The three-headed dog who guarded the gates of hell? She was confused, that was for sure. But he guessed that was normal. Ruth and Stephen had both told him that having to leave the hospital today was going to be another shock for her.

“Liam can ride in the back of the truck. I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you.”

“Can he sit with me? Is there room?”

“You want him to sit with you? He slobbers like crazy.”

“Yes. Please, Declan. He is my protector, just as you are.”

She was smiling, holding her hand out, trying to reach for Liam as the orderly helped her to stand up. The dog came to the edge of the truck bed, laid his face in her palm, nuzzling her, his brown gaze on her, adoring.

What the hell had gotten into the dog? He was always friendly, but this… He’d never seen him act this way with anyone.

“If you’re sure.” She sent him a dazzling smile. He really could not refuse her anything. “Okay, let’s get you into the truck, then we’ll get Liam.”

He helped her into the cab, laying her crutches in the truck bed, then whistled to Liam. The dog jumped in, settled himself politely next to Angel, his big muzzle resting against her cheek. She was murmuring to the big animal, smiling. Declan shook his head as he went around and got into the driver’s seat.

He thanked the orderly, started the truck and pulled onto the Shoreline Highway.

Some of the fog had cleared; trees and ocean whizzed past on either side as they headed south. He pointed out landmarks to Angel: a local inn, the junior college, but she wasn’t really paying attention.

“This has to be pretty overwhelming for you,” he told her after a while.

“I almost remember riding in a car. I know I have…”

“I keep forgetting how limited your life has been. And I’m sure I don’t know the half of it. Ruth told me everything would be new to you, but it’s hard to comprehend until I see it happening.”

“Yes, for me, too. She told me to trust you. That you would guide me. Liam will guide me, too.”

She rubbed her hand over the dog’s massive, black head.

“Looks like you two are going to be friends.”

“Yes.” She smiled again, and he had to force himself to watch the road rather than her.

Her face was healing, the cuts and bruises mostly faded, leaving her pure beauty shining through. Her hair was pulled back in some sort of clip, away from her face, revealing her high, rounded cheekbones, her fine jawline. Her mouth was even more lush, more pink, now that her health was returning. But it was her eyes that always got him: big and blue, so pure and innocent, but with a thousand lifetimes in there in some weird way.

Concentrate on the road, buddy.

“Angel, do you want me to put on some music?” He knew the nurses had played music for her during her weeks in the hospital. Liz had brought in her own iPod and speaker dock for Angel to use.

“I love music.”

“What do you like? Anything other than Liz’s country music?”

“Everything.”

Everything.
It was all so simple with her. He pushed in the CD he’d been listening to on the way to the hospital, an old Kenny Loggins album. He glanced at Angel, found a small smile on her lips as she smoothed her hand over Liam’s neck rhythmically.

“This is happy music. I like it,” she said.

“I’m glad. What else do you like? Besides music, I mean. I guess I’ve never asked.”

She shrugged. “I love the garden, growing things. I love the scent of the earth. I like to work it, to feel it in my hands, to encourage things to grow.”

“I can make a place for you to garden at the house, once your leg is better, if you want.”

“I would like that very much.”

“What else? What kind of things are you interested in?”

“I love the birds. And we sometimes had rabbits in the garden, although The Grandmother would often catch them to eat for supper. I didn’t like that, but I understand the circle of life. We must find sustenance where we can.”

He wanted to ask more about the old woman, but figured it was Ruth’s job now. And thinking about the crazy old bitch who had kept Angel prisoner sickened him.

“Anything else? What did you do at night?”

“I cooked meals, cleaned The Grandmother’s house. I knitted blankets and socks. I liked to draw, when I could. I love to read books. I wasn’t given many, never enough. Do you have books, Declan? And may I look at them?”

“I have tons of books. And of course you can read them. Read whatever you want. If there’s something you want to read and I don’t have it, I can get it for you.”

“How will I know what you don’t have until I see it?”

She wasn’t being facetious, he understood that. But he didn’t have an answer for her. He figured searching the internet would be a completely alien idea to her.

“We’ll figure that out as we go, I guess.”

“Thank you, Declan, for the offer of your books. For sharing your home with me.”

“You’re welcome.”

He didn’t know how to handle all this gratitude. He was doing this because he felt compelled to. Not forced. But he couldn’t imagine
not
taking care of her.

“We have at least another half hour before we get to my house. Are you comfortable enough? Is your leg okay?”

“Yes. Thank you, Declan.”

Angel settled back into the seat, Liam warm and solid beside her. She felt the most absolute sense of safety she’d ever felt in her life, with Declan on one side of her and Liam on the other. Her protectors. Both strong and beautiful, in their own way.

She was excited to see where she would live. But this car journey was exciting, too. Everything moved so quickly; she barely had time to focus on a house or a tree before it was gone. She experimented with squinting her eyes, letting everything outside the window blur into a smear of green. It was a strange sensation, not unlike falling with Asmodeus, but brighter, with more color. And full of hope.