Milayna's Angel (3 page)

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Authors: Michelle Pickett

Tags: #Romance, #Angels, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Young Adult, #demons, #teen

BOOK: Milayna's Angel
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“No.”

I waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t. I
hated when he gave me a half answer. “And?” I waved my hand in the
air for him to continue.

“We know he can get to anyone in the group.
Jake, Steven, and the bitchy duo are proof of that. They jumped
ship for Azazel’s side easily enough. Oh, and let’s not forget our
old friend Jeff. He really duped the team. Played along like he was
fighting with us right up until the very end… when he betrayed you
to Azazel and nearly got you killed.”

“Yeah, I remember. Half our team went from
fighting with us to fighting against us.”

Chay slung my book bag over the back of my
chair in my history class. “He can get to any of us, Milayna. We
don’t know who we can trust. Remember that and be careful.” He
tugged gently on one of my red curls before he leaned down and
placed his lips behind my ear. “You’re so beautiful.” He gave me a
quick kiss before leaving for his class.

“I’m sorry if I freaked you out in chem
class,” Xavier said behind me.

His voice was so close. It startled me, and I
jumped. I turned around to face him. “Why would you think I was
freaked out?”

“Asking about lunch. I didn’t mean… I can
obviously see that you and Chay are… It’s just that I haven’t made
many friends yet, and I just wanted someone to sit with.” He
shrugged.

Oh, I should really keep my mouth shut.

“Chay and I sit with a group of friends at
lunch. Look for us.”

I’m so stupid. Chay is going to flip a
cork.

“Thanks.” Xavier reached out and pulled my
chair out for me… just like Chay did. I hesitated slightly before
sitting down. “See you at lunch.”

“You’re having lunch with him?” Jen asked
with both amazement and accusation in her voice when Xavier walked
away.

“No. We all are. I said he could sit with the
group.”

“Why?”

I shrugged and opened my history book.
“Because it’s only his second day and he doesn’t want to sit
alone.”

“Chay’s gonna flip his shit. Whatever you do,
don’t sit next to Xavier.”

“I wasn’t planning on it. I figured you and
Muriel would help me out.”

“Hmm, yeah, I guess I could sit next to him
for you. It’ll be a huge imposition, of course, but what are
friends for?” Jen smiled.

I laughed out loud, earning a scowl from my
history teacher who’d already started his lecture.

 

***

 

I probably should have warned Chay that
Xavier was having lunch with us when I saw him in class the next
hour. I thought about it, but I couldn’t find the right words.
‘Hey, you know the guy you think is flirting with me? Well, I
invited him to have lunch with us’
just didn’t seem to fit.

The closer the clock inched to lunch period,
the sweatier my hands became. My insides were like jelly, jiggling
around.

I’m being silly. Chay will understand.

“Why the hell is he here?” Chay whispered in
my ear when Xavier sat down at our table thirty minutes later.

“He didn’t have anyone to sit with.” I looked
down at my lap so Xavier didn’t know we were talking about him.

“And that’s our problem because?”

“Because we’re nice people who want to make
him feel welcome.”

Chay grunted in response. He didn’t talk to
me the rest of the lunch period.

Even though he was irritated with me, he
carried my books to each class like always, giving me a small kiss
on the cheek before leaving for his class. He didn’t speak, and the
peck on the cheek was a lot different from the full contact, warm,
wet kisses he usually gave me. He was officially getting on my
bitch nerve.

“Cut out the jealousy crap, Chay! I’m not
some simpleminded twit who thinks it’s cute when you’re acting
jealous and overbearing. You said you trusted me. If that’s true,
it shouldn’t bother you if I sit next to Xavier in every one of my
classes and have lunch with him every day,” I yelled on the drive
home that afternoon.

“You sit with him in class?”

“Ugh, that’s what you heard? Out of all that,
that’s what you heard? You can be a real idiot.”

He turned into a gas station parking lot so
fast that his tires squealed. I had to hold on to the dashboard so
I wasn’t thrown against him from the momentum. He screeched to a
stop, causing the car, and us, to lurch forward. I looked at him in
surprise.

What now?

He turned in his seat, grabbed the back of my
neck, and pulled me to him. His mouth claimed mine in a rough kiss.
Fisting my hand in his shirt, I held him to me. I moaned when his
tongue outlined my lips, and he groaned in response. He trailed
light, openmouthed kisses down the side of my neck, making little
circles on my skin with his tongue. Every nerve in my body was
electrified. Goose flesh pricked my skin and my insides melted.

He lifted his head and looked at me. His
blue-green eyes were dark, his breathing ragged. I threaded my
fingers through his hair and pulled his lips to mine again, taking
them slowly.

“Stop with the jealousy, Chay,” I said
against his lips. “I don’t want anyone else.”

He smiled and leaned back. Putting the car
into drive, he pulled slowly out of the parking lot. “You wanna get
a milkshake? “

“You have to ask?”

His lips twitched. “I guess not.”

Chay’s uncle owned a small ice cream shop in
town. According to Chay, he had the best milkshakes in South Bay.
According to Uncle Stewart, he had the best milkshakes in the
entire state of Michigan. I agreed with them both.

“Hey, you two! The usual?” Uncle asked when
we walked into the small shop, the bells jingling above us.

“Yes, please.” I hopped on a stool at the
counter.

“Two chocolate milkshakes, extra whipped
cream, and three cherries… because I love ya,” Uncle said with a
wink.

“We love you, too, Uncle Stewart.” I smiled.
He was a nice man and happened to be angel. According to him, we
were all family—angels and demi-angels. I guess we were.

The chimes tinkled over the door when two
women walked in. When I made eye contact with one woman, a tall,
willowy redhead, an image of her face flashed behind my eyes,
followed by piercing screams. The sound of screaming and the sight
of her pale face disappeared as soon as we lost eye contact.

“That’s new,” I mumbled.

“What?” Chay’s voice startled me, and I
flinched. I hadn’t realized I’d said anything out loud.

“Um, not sure yet.” I got up and walked
behind the counter. Uncle was just walking to the front from the
storage area in the back of the store. “Can I do it?”

“Wait on them? Sure, but why?” Uncle looked
at the women over my shoulder. “They friends of yours?”

“No… I just… I’m not sure really. I can’t
explain it.”

“Darlin’, there isn’t much in our lives that
can be explained. Go on before they change their minds and go to
Dairy Queen instead.”

I laughed and walked to the women waiting to
order. Chay caught my eye, raising a brow in question. I shrugged.
I had no idea what I was doing. I just had the urge to wait on the
women. I was betting it had something to do with the mini-vision I
had when they walked in. Once a vision started, it took on a life
of its own. There was very little I, or any other demi-angel, could
do to fight it. When we were meant to step in, we had the
overpowering urge to do so. It was almost as if our actions weren’t
our own any longer. We were at the mercy of our visions.

The pretty redhead looked up, and I stumbled
backward. Her face, mangled and distorted, like I was seeing her
through a broken circus mirror, flashed over and over again in my
mind. The images of her grotesquely misshapen face bounced through
my vision, keeping time with the unending screams that filled my
ears.

The screech of a chair against the tile floor
drew her attention, and she broke eye contact with me to look over
her shoulder.

I saw Chay walk toward the back of the shop.
He pushed through the swinging door and rounded the corner to stand
beside me. “I’ll take care of this. Why don’t you help Uncle? I
heard him call you.”

“Oh, sure, thanks.” I smiled at the ladies,
searching out the redhead’s green eyes. As soon as our gazes met,
the image of her face sprang to life in my brain, her head whipping
side to side violently. Her mouth opened and closed, but this time,
no sound came. The vision was silent, just a jumble of disjointed
images.

Taking a big step backward, I turned away. I
sagged with my back to the wall as soon as I rounded the
corner.

“Vision?”

I jumped at the sound of Uncle’s voice.
“Yes.”

“Who?”

“The redhead.” I peeked around the
corner.

“What about?”

“I can’t tell yet.”

Nodding, he stood beside me. “Yeah, that’s
frustrating, not being able to force the vision to give us the info
we need.” He sighed and scratched the back of his head. “Can’t
force it though.”

There was nothing I could do but wait for it
to finish telling me what I needed to know to do my job—protect the
human.

I listened as Chay took their orders. One
ordered a vanilla cone.

How boring. A whole ice cream shop full of
sweet treats and she picks vanilla? Wait, focus, that’s not
important now. The vision. What is it telling me?

The second lady, her voice soft and
melodious, ordered a sundae. It was the redheaded woman. As soon as
she started speaking, the vision smashed through my
consciousness.

Her face shook violently from side to side to
up and down. The screaming was back. It wasn’t the redheaded woman
screaming, though.

It was the woman with her that screamed. The
redhead’s face, misshapen and pale, whipped around, her hair
flowing wildly around her head. Then it stopped. The screaming
quieted, and the movement of the grossly misshapen head stilled.
For a brief second, I thought the vision was over… until I saw her
lying on the gleaming tile floor of the ice cream shop. Her face
was deathly pale, her hair and lips stark red against her
unnaturally white skin. But it wasn’t hair. I struggled to see. It
was as though I was looking down at her from the ceiling, but the
floor sank farther and farther from me every second that ticked by.
I was running out of time.

“Would you like cherries on your sundae?” I
heard Chay ask.

Cherries! It’s not hair; it’s long,
intertwining lines of cherries surrounding her!

I grabbed a hand towel and turned the corner.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, leaning over the toppings station, the hand
towel covering the full bin of cherries. “We’re out of
cherries.”

“I thought I saw some?” the woman said.

“Oh, you must have seen these.” I picked the
bin of strawberries up and angled it toward her. “We ran out of
cherries yesterday.” I lowered my voice. “I was supposed to get
more but it completely slipped my mind. Please don’t tell my boss.
I really need this job,” I whispered.

She smiled. “You know, you’re right, it was
the strawberries I saw. No cherries for me, thank you. I’ll have
extra strawberries, though.” She winked at me.

The next vision was one of her sitting at a
table by the front window of the shop, eating her sundae topped
with extra strawberries and talking with her friend. Slowly, it
dissolved from view.

Keeping the towel over the bin of cherries, I
lifted it and carried it to the back of the shop. I set it down on
the metal prep table that ran the length of the room, the metal bin
clanging against the tabletop. One hand on either side of the bin
of cherries, my arms stretched out in front of me, I bowed my head
and closed my eyes, taking deep breaths to calm my racing
heart.

“Laid it on a little thick there, don’t cha
think?
‘Please don’t tell my boss or he might fire me,’

Uncle mimicked in a high-pitched voice.

I smiled, not opening my eyes. “I had to make
sure she didn’t fuss over the disappearing cherries. And I don’t
sound like that.” I laughed.

“Tsk, you did good, Milayna.” He patted my
shoulder.

“What was with the cherries?” Chay murmured
close to my ear, his breath moving my hair and tickling my
neck.

“She would have choked on them,” I told
him.

“You okay?” Chay pulled me into his arms.

“I’m good. Remind me to order strawberries
from now on, though.”

I jumped at Uncle’s roar of laughter. His
round belly jiggled in time with his chortles, making him look like
Santa Claus. If Santa were an angel. He wasn’t.

 

***

 

That night, the hobgoblins returned. They
stared at me through the kitchen window while I loaded dishes into
the dishwasher. When I finished, I wiped my hands on a dishcloth
and walked outside.

“What?” I snapped.

“He’s here.” Friendly’s usual bubbly behavior
was subdued.

“Who’s here?”

“The one who will kill you,” Scarface said
with a deformed smile.

 

 

3

The Promise

 

“What are we doing?”

Chay smiled. “I dunno.”

We were in chemistry, waiting for class to
start. “I’m not going if you don’t tell me what we’re doing.”

“Don’t you trust me?” He grinned.

“Depends,” I said slowly.

“On?”

“What we’re doing.”

He laughed, and I glared at him. We had a
date the next day. A secret date. At least, it was a secret to
me.

“You’ll like it. I promise.” He drew a cross
over his heart with his finger.

Chay leaned over and grazed his lips gently
against mine. The room fell away, and I was lost in him. I didn’t
hear the other students talking, the rustling of papers, or the
slamming of books on tables. I didn’t feel the eyes of others
watching us. Blocking it all out, I focused on Chay and how the
feel of his lips moving against mine made my insides tickle.

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