Her Guardian Angel 4-Her Angel Series (3 page)

When the
light faded, an equally bright room surrounded him. Marcus
straightened, flapped his wings to bring his feathers into line and
then furled them against his back. He noted with annoyance that
neither of his weapons had appeared at his hips. It seemed Heaven
didn’t want him armed for this meeting.

He walked
forwards and the brightness dimmed, revealing what most mortals
would consider a waiting room. The pale furniture melted into the
white walls and floors, making it difficult to distinguish them,
and for once the room was empty. He couldn’t remember the last time
he had reported to Heaven’s Court and it had been like this.
Normally his fellow guardians were here on some business or
another, escorting detainees or sinners, or reporting on missions
themselves.

Putting
it down to the late hour, he strode towards the white double doors
at the opposite end of the room, passing the empty reception desk
and armchairs.

He pushed
the heavy doors open, revealing the equally white room
beyond.

It
appeared much like a human court, only everything was white. The
benches where those awaiting their hearing would sit, the barrier
between them and the area where the judges and jurors sat, and the
dock were all so bright that they blended together and made him
wonder for what must have been at least the six hundredth time why
everything was so irritatingly pale in Heaven.

He looked
down at his blue armour.

At least
that had colour to it.

The
weight of it felt good against him and he ached to beat his wings
and feel the wind cut through his feathers. He was so focused on
himself that he failed to notice that he wasn’t alone until someone
spoke.

“Report,
Marcus.”

Marcus
jerked his head up, eyes fixing on his superior, a man with short
sandy locks and dark eyes that rarely held any trace of emotion.
They were cold now, devoid of feeling as he stared at Marcus with a
critical air about him. Marcus calmly walked towards him, opened
the white gate, and stepped into the dock directly on the other
side.

There
were no lawyers in Heaven. Each sinner, detainee or reporter had to
stand for themselves. It was even rare to have a jury. Ninety
percent of cases were decided by three judges.

His sat
before him on a raised platform encased by an elaborate curved
white wall that bore a beautiful carving of angels in battle and
hid their bodies from their chests downwards.

The two
men nearer the back, flanking his superior, were there to oversee
his report and to ensure that everything followed the rules of
their kind. They were angels from a different division to Marcus
and his superior. The dark haired man to his superior’s left wore
white armour edged with gold and had pure white wings, the sign of
a mediator and intervention specialist, and the white-blond haired
man to his right wore black armour edged with gold and had
raven-black wings, the sign of those affiliated with death.
Marcus’s own armour and wing colour signified him as a guardian,
one of the angels who were responsible for shepherding souls
through Heaven for judgement and then leading them to their
respective resting place in Heaven or escorting them to Hell. There
were watchers who wore armour like his too, and even a faction of
the army. He bit his tongue as desire to mention his request to
join that army welled up inside him and saluted his superior
instead, bowing his head in greeting.

“Am I to
be punished?” Marcus said without a trace of fear in his
voice.

He wasn’t
sure what punishment for striking an innocent would entail, but it
couldn’t be any worse than what he had already suffered because of
his sins.

“That is
yet to be determined. We are gathered here to review your actions
tonight. We withheld punishment in order to see if your actions
engendered a positive emotional response that may forge a stronger
connection between yourself and the mortal.”

Marcus
frowned. “And why is there need for a connection?”

His
superior didn’t hesitate. “So that she might trust you.”

Marcus
leaned forwards, looking right into his superior’s dark eyes, eager
to spot some truth in them, some answers to the thousand questions
he had asked in the past and they had refused to answer.

“And why
must she trust me?” Marcus knew he had pushed too far when a dark
look crossed all three men’s faces.

“Enough
questions, Marcus. Report.”

He ground
his teeth. Always the same response whenever he pushed them to
elaborate on his mission. He hated being left in the dark about
everything almost as much as he despised having to live in the
mortal realm.

“There
was a problem with an ex-lover of the female’s. He was causing her
fear and emotional harm. He was also causing me to lose sleep. I
took it upon myself to forcibly remove him from the premises and
deter him from attempting a repeat performance.”

“So you
might gain more sleep?” His superior didn’t look impressed and
neither did the two angels flanking him.

“No, so
that the female may not come to physical harm.”

“You had
reason to believe that this male might act in violence towards
her?”

“She was
afraid. I have watched her for thirty one years. Never once have I
witnessed her this afraid. Seeing that the man was bent on
violence, I took it upon myself to ensure that he would leave her
alone.”

“Did the
man say anything in his defence?”

Marcus
frowned. Had he? He had accused Amelia of a lot of things, all of
them false. Nothing the man had said had held any
credit.

“No. He
was intent on harming her and laying false accusations at her
door.”

“So you
struck him?”

“No!”
Marcus leaned forwards. “It didn’t happen like that. He turned his
foul derision in my direction and attempted to hit me.”

“Why did
he do such a thing?”

His
superior and these two angels were already aware of what had
occurred tonight so why were they trying to draw it out of him?
Were they hoping to embarrass him or cause him to reveal something?
If they believed him attracted to her, then he would have to
disappoint them.

“I was
accused of being her lover. The man decided to… damage my face… in
order to teach both myself and the female a lesson. I believe he
sought to render me less attractive to her.”

“So you
struck him?”

“I acted
to defend myself and the female, as per my orders. I eliminated a
threat to her.”

“And do
you concur that the female is attracted to you, as this man
believed?”

Marcus
stared blankly at the three angels, mind working furiously back
over tonight’s events as he tried to compute an answer to the
question. Did he? Was she?

Amelia
had certainly looked upon him with desire darkening her grey eyes
and those eyes had lingered on his bare torso more than once. She
had been gentle with his hand and had blushed several times during
their talk in the aftermath of the event. He had little experience
of females and couldn’t easily conclude what her reaction had
meant, but it had seemed positive.

“I am not
sure.” Marcus pushed the words out, his mouth and throat dry as he
contemplated the answer he had wanted to say. Yes. Yes, the mortal
did desire him. He wasn’t certain why, but the telltale signs had
been there.

“Then we
shall not punish you.”

Marcus
frowned again. “Why not?”

“Because
we require that ‘pretty face’ of yours to remain attractive to the
female in order to form a stronger bond between you.” There was a
definite smirk in his superior’s tone although it didn’t touch his
stony face. “You will return to Earth and continue with your
mission as planned.”

“When
will my mission end?” Marcus wasn’t going to give up this time.
Things were becoming critical on Earth and his desire to complete
his duty there had increased a hundredfold tonight when he had been
with Amelia, and a thousandfold just now when his superior had
implied that Amelia was attracted to him and they would use that as
a means of bringing them closer together. He needed to end this and
return to Heaven. It was his heart’s desire.

His heart
denied that and an image of Amelia flickered across his mind,
wearing a plum-coloured shimmering slip that inflamed his
desire.

He shoved
the vision away and stared at his superior.

“When
will it end?” Marcus spat out and the sandy-haired man leaned back
in his seat and regarded him with flinty eyes.

“When you
have completed it.”

“What
must I do to achieve that?”

“Be
patient. All will be revealed in time.”

“Time,”
Marcus snapped and gripped the white wooden railing that ran around
the dock, digging his fingers into it so hard that his bruised
knuckles burned fiercely. “It is always the same. I tire of this
mission. I demand to know when it will end!”

His
superior shot to his feet and the air in the room grew heavy,
draining the light from it and leaving it grey.

“It will end when you have completed it! This is your duty,
Marcus, and you
will
obey my orders.”

Marcus
clenched his teeth and lowered his gaze, staring at his hands where
they trembled against the railing, a visible sign of the pressure
bearing down on his body. The hot thick air in the room stuck in
his throat and stole the breath from his lungs, leaving him
wheezing.

His mind
turned foggy, thoughts swimming in and out of focus, and he blinked
several times, fighting for consciousness. His heavy limbs shook,
bones aching as darkness descended on him, the power of his
superior too intense to withstand.

A moment
later it lifted, the room brightening as it faded away, and Marcus
sucked in much needed air as the strain on him eased. His body
continued to tremble and he clung fiercely to the railing to remain
standing as his legs threatened to give out.

Marcus
cursed under his breath. He shouldn’t have lost his calm. He had
never snapped like this before but the pressure of living in the
mortal realm, of having to endure being so close to Amelia, was
getting to him. He had been waiting over thirty years for this
mission to end and they had always given him the same answer to his
questions. It was his duty. He had to obey.

His
loyalty was to Heaven, born of faith and his belief that they knew
what the future held and what each of his master’s servants were
destined to do, but when they withheld information from him, when
they shut him in the dark and expected him to blindly obey their
orders without question, he found his faith wavering. He only
wanted answers.

He had
tried countless times and in countless different ways but each time
they told him the same thing. His duty was to watch over Amelia
until a certain point in time. They had never expanded on the
nature of his mission or given him any other details. Each time
they brought him back to Heaven, they asked the same questions and
gave him the same answers.

It wasn’t
necessary for him to know such information.

It was
only necessary for him to obey their orders.

So he
obeyed, and every time he left them, he hated his mission a little
more.

His
shoulder blades tingled where his wings joined them. Amelia had
seen the marks there. He hated them too. If it wasn’t for them, he
wouldn’t be in this situation. He would have asked for a transfer
and would have been a soldier. It was his fault though and he
accepted this mission as punishment for committing sin.

“Have you
experienced any difficulties with your wings since living in the
mortal realm?”

That
softly spoken question came not from his superior but the dark
haired man to his left. A mediator. Marcus didn’t know him or the
other angel, but he could see from the embellishment on their
armour that they were high ranking, and clearly they knew of his
problem.

“There
was one incident and that is all.” Marcus couldn’t meet the man’s
eye. He hated talking about this with anyone, even his superior and
the medical staff who had assisted him throughout the centuries
since the marks had appeared on his back. It made him feel
vulnerable and weak, and disgraced.

“Can you
recall what you felt in that situation or anything that may have
caused the curse to trigger again?” His superior this
time.

Marcus
risked a glance at him. The concern in his dark eyes surprised him
and buoyed his spirits, and Marcus thought about what had happened
the last time his wings had failed to appear.

Thankfully he had been on the ground and had only attempted
to take off but it was always there at the back of his mind
whenever he flew. His wings were unpredictable. There was nothing
stopping the curse from triggering mid-flight and sending him
plummeting to Earth. He had no desire to hit the ground from a
great height. While the fall wouldn’t kill him, it would certainly
render him unconscious and vulnerable to attack, and it would
definitely hurt.