Her Guardian Angel 4-Her Angel Series (29 page)

Marcus
could understand Lukas’s loyalty to Heaven but he couldn’t side
with his old friend this time. He would go to Heaven, but it
wouldn’t be before they called him or he knew more about what was
happening. He needed to go in there prepared, not blind with rage
as he was now.

“Heaven
made Apollyon kill Amelia, and it was willing to destroy me too.”
Marcus moved away from her, leaving her at the periphery as he
moved into the group. She didn’t follow him but he could feel her
eyes on him, closely tracking his every move. “Veiron was right.
Heaven knew that this was happening. They wanted her
dead.”

“You
can’t know that,” Lukas interjected and turned his glare on
Marcus.

Apollyon
heaved a sigh and everyone looked at him. He stood with his eyes
downcast and his black wings tucked against his back. Serenity
stood beside him, her hand on his, slowly stroking it.

“I do not
care much for what Heaven made me do… or the fact that they forced
me to do it against my will,” Apollyon whispered in a low voice.
“But you are a fool, Lukas, if you believe that running to them is
the right answer.”

“What
would you know?” Lukas strode up to him, stopping only once their
chests were almost against each other, and tilted his head back to
stare into Apollyon’s blue eyes. “It is right that we go to Heaven
and report what happened. They will know what to do.”

“Lukas is
right. Heaven will help us,” Annelie said and didn’t wilt when
Apollyon turned his stare on her. She defiantly flicked her red
hair out of her face and held his gaze. “They’ll know what we need
to do.”

“You are
both fools then. Did Heaven care about helping Amelia? They wanted
her dead… they made me kill her and they didn’t care that I almost
killed Marcus in the process!” Darkness descended as Apollyon
scowled at them both, stealing the light from the world, and his
fists trembled at his sides.

Serenity
murmured soft words in French to him and continued to stroke his
arm, her motion rhythmic and slow, designed to soothe a man on the
verge of unleashing Hell on someone. Marcus wasn’t sure that such a
small action could quell the rage in Apollyon’s heart but it was
certainly keeping him from attacking Lukas. The old Apollyon that
Marcus knew would have been at Lukas’s throat by now. They had
fought each other over less in the past.

Einar
intervened, pressing his hands against both men’s breastplates and
trying to force them apart.

“Desist!”
Amelia said and everyone looked at her again. “I will not allow
anyone to leave. I will destroy any who try.”

Marcus
frowned. Destroy? She looked strong for a moment as she stood tall,
her silver wings outstretched and bright in the darkness, and then
wavered. Marcus rushed to her, shutting out the pain caused by
moving so quickly, and caught her before she hit the ground. Her
wings disappeared and he looked down at her. Without them, she
looked much as she used to and he could easily fool himself into
thinking that Amelia was alive again. The silver hair made it
impossible though. It shone like starlight, otherworldly in its
luminescence.

“I am
with Apollyon and Taylor,” Marcus whispered and then raised his
head. “What about the rest of you?”

“There is
something off about what happened,” Einar said. “We should bide our
time and play things coolly before deciding which side to trust.
Veiron had wanted to stop Amelia from dying. There had to be a
reason for that.”

“She
turned into an angel.” Annelie pointed at Amelia where she lay in
Marcus’s arms. “Would that be reason enough? Is there something
magical about female angels?”

“There
are no female angels.” Lukas gently placed his hand on Annelie’s
shoulder and she frowned up into his green eyes.

“What is
she then?”

“I don’t
know,” Marcus answered her and looked down at the woman lying
unconscious in his arms. “I want to believe that she is an angel
though… and that was why Heaven had us do this to her… in order to
awaken her. Some mortal souls join the ranks of angels on death.
Perhaps she is one of them, and is special because she is female.
Perhaps that is why they wanted her dead… so she would transcend
her mortality and become like us.”

Serenity
looked at Apollyon. “Why would it take your power to awaken
her?”

“Because
I am death… or I was. I was the original angel of death. The legion
that does it now came long after my creation.” Apollyon’s blue gaze
fell on Amelia. “I am not sure what she is, but her death by my
hands is one of the reasons for my existence, which means that
Heaven knew about her before I was brought into this world as one
of the first angels. There is a chance that the power Heaven gave
to me was necessary to awaken her in this form, and that death by
any other hands would have sent her mortal soul to Heaven
instead.”

It made
sense. If Amelia’s death was part of Apollyon’s eternal duty, one
of the reasons for his creation, then there was a chance that only
he had been given the power to trigger her change into the angelic
creature she had become.

Apollyon
straightened, tilting his shoulders back, and cast his dark eyes
over them all. “We are returning to Paris for now. We will discuss
this matter further there.”

Marcus
nodded and waited to see if anyone would argue against Apollyon.
Lukas didn’t seem to have the courage and Annelie was looking less
certain now. Marcus smiled his appreciation when Einar came and
took Amelia from him, allowing him to stand, and then handed her
back to him. Marcus cradled her in his arms and looked down at her,
drowning in the maelstrom of his feelings.

He wasn’t
sure who to trust anymore, but he needed answers and fast. If
Amelia’s death hadn’t been his final task, then what was it? The
urge to go to Heaven and question his superior was hard to ignore,
no matter how many times he told himself that it was better he
waited until they had more information or until Heaven called him
to them.

It beat
inside him, strong and fierce, compelling him to do as his heart
dictated and demand payment in blood for what had happened to
Amelia.

He wished
that he could obey it and unleash his fury on Heaven but he
couldn’t.

It wasn’t
Apollyon’s decision that they would all return to Paris stopping
him or the pain that still beat through him as his body slowly
healed.

It was
his wings.

They
wouldn’t come out.

***

Chapter 17

Marcus
paced the small pale uncluttered bedroom in Apollyon’s apartment.
The day was wearing on and Amelia hadn’t stirred. Upon their return
to Paris, Marcus had placed her on top of the light blue bedclothes
on the white wooden bed in the airy room and had stayed with her,
leaving the others to discuss events in the other room. Serenity
had checked on him twice so far, both times asking if he needed
anything and if Amelia had come around. Everyone else had stayed
away, although Einar and Apollyon had checked in on him
telepathically, sometimes asking him questions about his mission
and other things.

Both
angels were concerned about the transformation that Amelia had
undergone.

Lukas
hadn’t said much since they had returned. Marcus could hear
everyone in the other room and Lukas’s voice was absent from most
of the conversations. Marcus could understand Lukas’s need to
question Heaven about it, and even now wished that he could go
there and find out from his superior just what was happening and
what his final task entailed. It was the right decision to be here
though and to bide their time before trusting anyone again. As
difficult as it was for him, he had to endure it. He wanted to
trust Heaven and believe that their plan for Amelia was worth her
death, but it became increasingly difficult with each moment he
spent watching over her.

He had
changed out of his armour on returning to Paris and had found
himself going through Amelia’s bag before he had got the better of
himself. He had touched her things, held the jumper she had worn
during their flight here to his nose so he could catch her
lingering scent on it, and had come close to breaking down under
the strain of it all. Pain continued to beat in his heart, running
through his veins like acid that ate away at him, and he knew it
would lessen if he left her presence, but he couldn’t bring himself
to do it. He needed to stay with her and guard her while she was
vulnerable.

He looked
at her when she stirred long enough to roll onto her front, her
legs tangling in the layers of soft white and blue fabric she wore
and her silver hair splayed out across the pillows.

Amelia.

It killed
him that she didn’t remember him or that name. She was Amelia to
him, the woman he loved and needed more than anything. In the short
time they had been together, she had become more vital to him than
air, had given him love and awakened him to feelings he could no
longer ignore. He ached so deeply for her, still craved the feel of
her soft skin beneath her fingers and the warmth of her smiles. He
hungered for the heat of her lips on his, the taste of her in his
mouth and the smell of her on his skin, and the sound of her voice
whispered in his ear. The more he looked at her, the more he could
see past the changes and fool himself into seeing his
Amelia.

He
stopped near the side of the bed, lowered his hand, and gently ran
his left index finger down her spine. He half expected her to wake
and smile at him as she had back at her apartment after they had
last made love, to reach for him and slide her hand around the nape
of his neck and lure him down for a long unhurried kiss. Her skin
was velvet beneath his fingertip, warm and soft, soothing yet
tearing at him at the same time. It was miserable torture. He
replayed her smile over and over again, wishing with every drop of
his blood that when she woke she would remember him and this
nightmare would end.

“Stop
punishing yourself.” Lukas’s quiet voice stole into his fantasy and
he frowned at Amelia, keeping his back to him. “Come and talk with
the others.”

Marcus
hadn’t expected Lukas to be the first of his fellow warriors to
physically check on him. It made sense in a way. Out of all of
them, Lukas was the most sensitive when it came to this sort of
thing. It was probably why he had been reborn as a mediator these
past two lifetimes, an angel made for talking people down off
ledges and making people see sense. Marcus didn’t think that Lukas
could easily ease his suffering or take it away. It hurt too much.
All he knew was pain.

“I am
fine,” he whispered and glanced past Lukas through the open door
that led into the bright living room. Annelie was watching him with
pity in her dark eyes. Everyone else seemed to be avoiding looking
at him.

That room
bore more punishment than his current location.

He smiled
tightly at Lukas. “I will take first watch.”

He walked
past Lukas into the living room, turned away from the others as
they looked at him, and headed straight through the kitchen to the
small rooftop balcony that overlooked a leafy park. The warm light
of evening heightened the verdant colour of everything and he
sighed as he leaned against the iron railings.

He could
still feel everyone’s eyes on him and could hear them as they
talked, discussing him in low voices.

Marcus
watched the world below, eyes tracking couples as they walked
through the park, or families as they played together. Even this
was torture. The sun slowly sunk towards the horizon until it
disappeared from view behind the trees and buildings, and the sky
began to darken. Marcus remained there, standing sentinel with his
senses on high alert in case something happened.

The
conversation died down inside the apartment and gradually the
streetlights came on, illuminating the road below that ran
alongside the darkening park. Someone entered the kitchen, Serenity
judging by the sense of power, and hesitated a moment at the door
behind him before leaving again. He heard cupboards open and close,
and what sounded like crockery being piled and cutlery
gathered.

His
stomach growled at the thought of food but he ignored it and
remained where he was, part of him afraid of facing the others. He
didn’t want their pity and couldn’t bear the way they looked at him
as though he would break under the slightest breeze. He was
stronger than that, or he would be if they gave him time. These
feelings were new to him but he would master them.

The moon
rose and his gaze followed it, watching as it changed from deep
orange through to white. Stars began to appear but only the
brightest ones. The yellow haze from the streetlights drowned out
the rest. He would have given anything in that moment to fly away
until he was high in the sky, far from Earth, between it and
Heaven, and could see the stars properly. He couldn’t leave though,
and it wasn’t his wings stopping him this time. He had to remain
here and watch over Amelia. Even if she didn’t remember him right
now, there was a chance that she would regain her memories. He
couldn’t be weak and run away from her. She needed his protection
now more than ever.