Her Guardian Angel 4-Her Angel Series (32 page)

He kept
his hand outstretched to her, imploring her to take it and come
back to him.

Lysander
took hold of her arm.

Light
began to fill the room.

The other
angels disappeared, leaving Amelia and Lysander behind.

As a beam
shone down on her, she raised her chin and her eyes met his, and he
saw them as they had been when she was human, a beautiful stormy
grey. She smiled faintly.

“I’m
sorry, Marcus… for everything.”

She was
gone before he could react, the light fading and revealing only
blankets where she had been. He stared at the spot for long
seconds, frowning and trying to comprehend what had just
happened.

It
couldn’t be. She couldn’t have.

He pushed
past everyone, shoved the French doors open so hard that they
rattled, and ran out onto the balcony. He clutched the black iron
railing and stared at the sky.

“Amelia!”
Marcus flung his head back and yelled at the heavens, distraught
and enraged, the bitter taste of fury coating his throat and
tongue. The sky blackened and the wind picked up, whipping into a
howling rage around him, tearing leaves off the trees in the
park.

He dug
his fingertips into the railing, bending the metal into his
palms.

“You
remembered me… why… why leave?”

Lightning
crashed down into the park, filling the air with the scent of
earth, and he ground his teeth together, fighting to regain command
of his emotions as they threatened to send him out of control.
Liquid fire blazed in his veins, burning him from the inside out,
consuming him. He bit back his desire to scream out his fury and
glared at the darkening tempestuous sky.

He needed
to go after her. His wings erupted from his back and then
disappeared. He tried to call them again but they wouldn’t come. He
growled in frustration as an order came through into his head and
he realised that his lack of wings wasn’t due to his curse this
time. His orders were clear. Heaven was closed to him pending
further investigation into the events that had occurred over the
past forty-eight hours and his part in them. He was to remain out
of the realm of Heaven until they called him to them, and then he
would be able to see Amelia again. Until then, she would be safe
with them.

Marcus’s
knees gave out and he hit the tiles, cracking them, his fingers
still clutching the buckled railing. He hung his head forwards and
broke down, sobs racking him as he struggled against his feelings
and his desire to tear Heaven apart in his search for Amelia. He
couldn’t let her go so easily and he refused to believe that they
meant her no harm. As soon as he could, he was going to Heaven to
find her and bring her back. She remembered him.

He had
never felt so alive and relieved, yet so dead and cold
too.

A heavy
hand on his right shoulder caused him to drag in a sharp breath and
hold it in an attempt to stop his tears. It was Apollyon’s power
flowing into him through that touch. He couldn’t let Apollyon see
him like this, so weak and pathetic.

Apollyon
crouched beside him and Marcus let go of the railing. His
fingertips were bleeding. He stared at them and then at the bent
balustrade.

“I will
pay for a new one,” he whispered and Apollyon sighed but didn’t say
anything. “She remembered me… why did she go?”

“Because
she felt it was the right thing to do.” Apollyon patted his
shoulder. “She did not want you to fight and saw a chance to stop
that from happening.”

“Why?”

“Perhaps
she remembered more than just your name.” Apollyon sat beside him
on the cold tiles and leaned his back against the low white wall
that ran at a ninety degree angle to the iron railing, joining it
to the wall beside the French doors. “You must have said something
that triggered the return of some of her memories.”

“I doubt
that… I told her to stay away from me… and that I wanted to
die.”

“Death is
certainly convenient in its own strange way. You wanted to forget
her. Perhaps that is why she remembered you.” Apollyon smiled but
it didn’t reach his blue eyes. He swept a hand over his long black
hair, pushing it back into his ponytail, and then loosed a long
sigh.

He
touched Marcus’s shoulder again, regaining his attention that had
started to wander back to Amelia and where Lysander had taken her.
“We will not allow anything to happen to her. She declared us her
knights, remember?”

Marcus
nodded and then looked skyward. “Heaven has sent me orders to stay
away. They are investigating my actions and will not allow me to
see Amelia until they call me. Why would they do such a
thing?”

Apollyon’s power shifted, darkening again. “Who knows… but I
do know one thing… they have a reason for everything they have made
us do and we must find out what that reason is. Come inside and
we’ll discuss it with the others.”

Apollyon
stood and offered Marcus his hand. Marcus took it and hauled
himself onto his feet, and then rubbed the heel of his hands across
his eyes to clear away his tears so the others didn’t see them.
Serenity and Annelie cast a fearful glance his way when he entered
the living room. He hadn’t meant to lose control of his power and
scare them. It had been impossible to contain it all and he had
done his best to keep his wrath away from them so he wouldn’t hurt
anyone.

Taylor
didn’t look at all bothered. She was talking to Einar and Lukas
about something and just smiled at him when he stopped next to
Serenity and Apollyon.

“What do
we do now?” Lukas no longer looked as though he was going to keep
insisting they file a report with Heaven about what had happened.
He looked as though he was ready to fight them instead. He still
wore his white and gold armour, his white wings furled against his
back, and there was a hard edge to his green eyes.

“There’s
a Hell’s angel named Veiron who said that he witnessed it all. We
need to find him,” Marcus said and Taylor stepped
forwards.

“I can do
that… I know some of his old haunts in the underworld. We’ll find
him and find out what’s happening, Marcus.” She offered him another
warm smile full of reassurance.

Apollyon
frowned. “We need to go to Hell then. There is a chance that the
pool there might show details of the event too and what is yet to
happen in your mission. Lukas, I need you to remain here and look
after Annelie and Serenity for me again.”

Lukas
looked irritated and then started to nod, but Serenity shook her
head, causing her long fair hair to sway against her slender
shoulders.

“I can
take care of Annelie alone. You need Lukas with you,” she said, her
French accent laced with determination. Marcus looked away, unable
to bear the affection in her gaze as she stared into Apollyon’s
eyes, silently conveying her desire for him to be safe.

“If
Taylor is going down there with you, then I’m coming too,” Einar
said and Apollyon sized him up.

“I
suppose I can carry you if one of the others carries Taylor.”
Apollyon didn’t look pleased at the prospect.

Lukas
smiled. “It’s like old times.”

Apollyon’s look soured further. “Only he looks heavier than
you were.”

Both
Einar and Lukas frowned at him.

Marcus
looked back through the kitchen to the world outside. It was
settled. As soon as they were ready, they would depart for Hell. He
would uncover the truth about Amelia and why Heaven had wanted her
dead, and then he would go after her.

He curled
his fingers into fists.

Amelia.

She had
remembered something about herself, about himself, and she had gone
with Lysander in order to protect him and his friends.

She had
to hang on and wait for him.

He would
find her.

He
wouldn’t fail her again.

***

Chapter 20

The
bright light receded but rather than the ground being puffy white
clouds and a golden sun shining down on her, Amelia found herself
surrounded by a large entrance hall. The pale marble caused
everything to blend into each other, until she could barely
distinguish the elaborate twin staircase that swept upwards
following the curved walls that it hugged. In front of her, a wide
arch filled the space below the balcony at the top of the
staircase. Beyond it was a long corridor in equally eye-numbing
white marble.

As she
stood there with the angel called Lysander gripping her arm,
everything began to dull to a more reasonable level, as though her
eyes were finally adjusting to the obscene brightness of it all. It
had only taken a few seconds of exposure to the light to give her a
headache.

Another
memory of Marcus popped into her head and replayed, revealing a
moment with him that caused a blush to burn her cheeks.

Perhaps
it was the returning memories that were giving her the headache.
Since remembering their moment together in that other world where
Taylor had sent them to keep them hidden, she had recalled at least
six other memories of being with him. There had been a fight
against two Hell’s angels on a rooftop overlooking a city, a
meeting with another Hell’s angel who had been far more handsome
than his predecessors and had seemed familiar to Taylor, a time
when she had been high above the world in Marcus’s arms, their
flight around the Eiffel Tower, the memory that had just come back
to her, and then there was the one that had woken her
today.

It had
felt like a nightmare at first and had left her heart beating
painfully fast against her chest.

Marcus
had been before her with his silver-blue wings bloodied and torn,
and his armour decimated. There had been pain in him and in her
heart, a feeling that had ripped her apart from the inside out and
still lingered deep in her chest. She hadn’t been able to bear
seeing him suffering for her at the hands of a man he had called
friend. She hadn’t wanted him to die because of her but she had
hesitated, afraid of taking that pain and that death upon herself
instead. When the power that had been blasting against him, aimed
for her, had started to shred his flesh, she had reacted on
instinct and had found the courage to take responsibility and face
her destiny.

She had
leapt in front of him, desperate to shield him so he wouldn’t die.
She had sacrificed herself.

Her death
had jolted her awake and she had panicked when Marcus hadn’t been
there with her and there had been raised voices in the other
room.

She had
sat in the middle of the bed, clutching the covers to her chest and
struggling with the two sides of her soul. The one that Marcus had
loved had returned, bringing with it a flood of emotions that had
threatened to render her unconscious. It had been difficult to
battle them and find a sense of balance again, to assimilate them
and the memories into herself. There were times when she still felt
like two people in one body.

It wasn’t
just memories of her life as Amelia that were returning. She had
seen things in her slumber that she knew were flickers of her
previous life. She had been through this before. The scenario was
becoming familiar and a sense of foreboding was growing inside
her.

She
couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a reason she believed
angels were only fit for destruction and were cruel
beings.

“This
way,” Lysander said, jolting her back to reality.

She had
almost forgotten where she was. How could she have? She had come to
the place that had ordered her death at Apollyon’s hands and she
wasn’t sure what she was going to do now. Leaving with Lysander had
spared Marcus but it had hurt him, and part of her wanted to go
back and change the past. If she could do it again, she would have
left without letting him know that she had remembered him. She
would have spared him that pain too.

He had
suffered enough because of her. It was time that she took her fate
on her own shoulders and bore the weight of it. It was time that
she faced Heaven and found out why they had killed her.

The
growing sliver of fear in her heart questioned her every move and
sent doubts into her head, threatening to steal what little
strength and courage she had found.

The
longer she spent in the white fortress surrounding her, the
stronger the sense of foreboding became, until she couldn’t shake
the feeling that she had been here before.

Several
times.

Amelia
walked forwards with Lysander and looked around, taking in the
hallways that led off the long columned corridor and disappeared
into the distance, their ends so far away that they were impossible
to see. Opened doors led off those corridors, some of them
revealing another hallway. The place was like a maze. She couldn’t
keep track when Lysander turned down one hallway and then onto
another, and then took her up several flights of white marble
steps. They were cold beneath her bare feet.

She
glanced across at her guard. He seemed so out of place in this
stark white environment. The brightness of it caused his black
armour to seem even darker than it was, and the gold detailing
shone so fiercely that it hurt her eyes. He looked at her out of
the corner of his eye, his blue ones meeting hers only long enough
for her to realise that she wasn’t the only one with doubts about
why she was here, and then faced forwards again.