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

“Nothing
particular. I had merely wanted to stretch my wings and fly
somewhere new for a change of scenery.”

“Report
back to us if anything happens. It should not be long now, Marcus.
Your destiny awaits.”

Before
Marcus could ask exactly what that destiny entailed, the light
engulfed him again. When it receded, it revealed the low-lit lounge
of his apartment.

He looked
at the clock on the DVD player in the entertainment centre to his
right and frowned at the time. Almost six. He rubbed his eyes and
locked the front door, and then trudged wearily across the living
room, stifling a yawn as he did so. When he reached his bedroom
door, he beat his wings, glad to feel them and sense that they were
stable, and then focused so they would disappear. They gradually
shrank into his back and when the last feathers were gone, the
marks there flushed with heat and then settled again.

Marcus
didn’t bother to remove his armour. He flopped down on his back on
his double bed, enjoying the cool of the covers against his bare
skin between his back plate and loincloth and on his arms and
thighs. A gentle breeze drifted in through the open window, washing
over his head and shoulders, bringing with it the scent of dawn and
carrying some of his irritation away. He stared at the ceiling,
watching the room brighten with the rising of the sun, his mind
racing but not with questions about his mission. He focused on his
shoulder blades and the marks there.

When they
had appeared five centuries ago, he had thought it was castigation
for sinning. He had broken the law that night and had indulged in
mead, a heady drink that at the time had been a banned substance
for angels due to its alcoholic nature. When he had come around
with his head on the verge of exploding and his stomach rebelling,
his shoulder blades had been ablaze, burning so fiercely that he
had felt as though someone had branded him. He had tried to bring
his wings out but they had failed to appear.

When
Heaven had called him back to them, Marcus had discovered that it
wasn’t punishment at all but rather a curse. It took weeks for the
medical staff to discover what it meant, and months for it to sink
in that it was inerasable. The marks sealed his wings for five
hundred years, leaving him stranded in Heaven, only able to do the
duty of a watcher.

In the
same week that Heaven had assigned him to watch over Amelia, his
wings had finally escaped their prison. The medical staff had
declared that the bond of the curse was weakening with time but
that he might still encounter difficulties. He had been too
intoxicated by the thought of flying again to care that there might
be future incidents where his wings would refuse to
appear.

There
were many at first but as time continued to flow, so the curse
continued to weaken, and the space between the incidents grew.
During his last assessment, the medical team had announced that his
problem was no longer the curse but psychological barriers he had
constructed. Something about it being his mind causing his wings
not to appear.

Marcus
had found it difficult to believe since he had no desire to drop
from the sky and hit the pavement, but when they had explained it
in layman’s terms, he had understood their point a little better.
If he feared that his wings would disappear, or not appear when he
needed them, then he could actually cause such a thing to happen.
The power of the mind was frightening.

Since
then, he had spent every moment when flying thinking about how
wonderful his wings were and that he was glad to have them, and he
really didn’t want them to go away, and that his curse wasn’t in
effect anymore.

It seemed
to have worked well so far.

There had
only been that one incident since coming to the mortal realm, and
the incident before that had been almost thirteen years ago when he
had come to Earth to oversee Amelia as she moved out of her
family’s house in the countryside and into her own apartment in
London at the age of eighteen. He wasn’t sure what had happened
then either.

His mind
drifted over the past incidents and how his superior had
conveniently used each one to deflect his questions and get him off
the subject of Amelia’s destiny. Skilful old bastard. His superior
was ancient in angel terms, reborn almost six thousand years ago,
although he appeared no older than Marcus.

Marcus
had been reborn in a time of peace two thousand years ago and could
only remember that his previous position had been that of a
guardian too. Most angels changed roles on their rebirth, with the
exception of a few who bore destinies that kept them harnessed into
a specific role, but all forgot their past lives. It was common for
some to recall main points about themselves and all retained their
former appearance, although wing colour changed from role to
role.

Marcus
couldn’t recall ever being something other than a
guardian.

He knew
angels who had changed roles, dying one day as a guardian and
waking the next as a mediator or assistant of death or a
hunter.

Death
himself, Apollyon by name, had been reborn countless times into the
same role, forever a black-winged messenger of destruction, and was
a singularity in that he could remember important historical events
in which he had been involved. Namely horrific times of devastation
such as the flood, and the fall of civilisations, and the
punishment inflicted upon Sodom and Gomorrah.

Perhaps
Marcus was eternally reborn as a guardian because he had a
destiny.

He just
wasn’t sure what that destiny was.

But he
knew it had something to do with Amelia and the event that would
occur in the future. His reason for keeping her safe. Once the
event occurred, his mission would end. What was her
destiny?

Whatever
it was, it was important enough that Heaven had assigned him to
watch over her as she walked the path towards her fate. Not many
mortals had personal watchers. Most angels in the Higher Order of
Watchers were assigned to thousands of people at once.

Amelia
had her own guardian angel.

Himself.

Why?

Marcus
threw his left arm across his face and grimaced when the hard cold
vambrace protecting his forearm struck his nose, sending dull pain
splintering across his skull. He sighed and focused, using his
power to remove his armour, and lay naked on the bed, contemplating
what the future held for him and for Amelia.

Heaven
hadn’t punished him.

His
actions tonight had engendered a positive emotional response in
Amelia.

He didn’t
like the sound of that or what his superior had implied.

He tilted
his head to his right and stared at the wall that separated his
apartment from Amelia’s. He couldn’t feel her in the bedroom, which
meant she was sleeping on the couch, too far away for him to easily
sense.

Was she
attracted to him?

If she
was, could he bring himself to use that against her and forge the
connection between them that his superior had mentioned?

He wanted
his mission to end.

But he
wasn’t sure he was willing to pay the price his superior had placed
on it.

Marcus
had always obeyed his orders and did all in his power to remain a
faithful and loyal servant of his master, but he was also a man of
principles who followed a code of honour, and using Amelia’s
feelings against her was wrong. As little as he cared about
mortals, he couldn’t ensnare her in such a way or gain her trust
through manipulation.

He would
gain her trust and connect with her, but not as his superior had
ordered.

He would
do so in a mortal way.

He just
had to figure out what that entailed.

This was
going to take some research.

***

Chapter 3

Marcus
was still pondering how to gain Amelia’s trust the next evening as
he walked back towards his apartment building near the centre of
London. The street wasn’t affluent or run-down. It sat somewhere in
the middle, and was far nicer than the first area Amelia had lived
in when she had moved out of her parents house. This was a safe
neighbourhood, full of mortals who worked in Central London and
were paid well enough to live only a few Tube stops from the
office. Cafés, restaurants and shops lined the busy street, mortals
coming and going as they went about their business. It was Saturday
and, since waking around noon because of the heat, he had passed
the entire day wandering the city, watching mortals as they
interacted with each other. The local park had produced the most
interesting results. The bright sunny summer’s day had drawn many
couples, both long-term and aspiring, into the lush green park,
where they had sat on blankets and talked, amongst more carnal
things.

Marcus
had sat in a large oak tree, invisible to mortal eyes and shaded
from the heat by the thick leafy canopy, surveying them with
interest. Given the number of couples that were kissing or looking
as though they were going to kiss given an opportune moment and the
correct signal from their chosen partner, a picnic seemed too
intimate for his requirement but it had given him some ideas about
how to gain Amelia’s trust, although he wasn’t sure if it was
necessary for his mission at all. Amelia had allowed him into her
home last night. Based on that, he concluded that she already
trusted him on some level, and since he had protected her from her
ex-lover, proving his ability and strength, when the time came, she
might do whatever he had to ask of her.

He only
wished he knew what he was going to face during the event they were
heading towards. If he knew that, if his superiors would give him
more information about what they had seen, then perhaps he would be
better prepared to deal with it and complete his mission. There had
to be a reason they weren’t telling him though, and it was his duty
to obey his orders without question. A good soldier did what was
asked of him, regardless of what it was.

Marcus
blew out a sigh. He could do that because the mission would end if
he did and he would be free of Earth and the mortals.

“Hi.”

Marcus
raised his head and looked at his surroundings, surprised to see
that he was back at the old redbrick apartment building.

Amelia
stood before him, her hand still raised in greeting, a smile on her
face.

“You
spacing out?” She bit her lip. “Don’t tell me it’s lack of sleep. I
still feel terrible about last night.”

Marcus
shook his head and scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Shoot,
it is lack of sleep, isn’t it? I’m sorry.” She nibbled her lower
lip again, entrancing him.

It wasn’t
just her soft mouth that held his attention today. The evening sun
shone down on her, highlighting her shoulder-length dark hair with
ribbons of gold and warming her skin almost as much as her blush.
She was radiant and the trace of shyness in her eyes as she glanced
at anywhere but him only added to her allure.

She had
always been so confident in the past when he had been watching her.
What had her acting so feminine and shy now?

Her grey
eyes briefly touched on his and then dropped to the black leather
purse she clutched over her shoulder.

Marcus
resisted the desire to follow the strap down over her slender bare
shoulder and take in her body. The thin cream ribbon of material
that sat close to her bag strap hinted at another flimsy dress. It
had been hard enough to cope with the feelings her slip had
produced in him last night. He wasn’t sure how he would react to
the sight of her in another revealing item of clothing.

She
cleared her throat and his silver-blue gaze drifted back to her
face. Her cheeks darkened and she covered her mouth with her hand
and then let it fall away and raised her head, locking eyes with
him.

“I’m
going to buy you a coffee.”

Marcus
raised a single dark eyebrow at the force in her tone and the
command in her words. That was more like the Amelia he knew so
well, yet the quaver in her voice gave away her underlying nerves
as much as her rapid heartbeat pounding in his skull. Perhaps his
superiors were correct in their assumption. Amelia liked
him.

Could he
use that against her in some attempt to gain her trust?

It felt
wrong to do so and nothing at all like the correct behaviour for an
angel.

He
followed her gaze over his shoulder to the small café a few doors
down from their building. There were some couples sitting outside
at the tables that lined the pavement close to the wide glass
windows, shaded by large pale sun umbrellas.

Marcus
considered declining her order but found himself nodding before he
could put voice to his refusal.

A bright
smile curved her lips and lit her eyes, and his heart thudded hard
against his chest.

Amelia
breezed past him and his eyes followed her, slowly dropping to the
cream summer dress she wore. It hugged her slender figure even more
than the slip had, revealing the tempting luscious curve of her
waist and flaring out over her full hips. Marcus stared at her
backside, riveted by how the pale-pink-flower-spotted material
swayed with each step.