Loving Angel (A Divisa Novel Book 4) (11 page)

“If you think you can tell me what to do, bucko...” She poked me in the chest, cheeks flushed.

I kicked back, propping my feet on the edge of the table. “I love it when you get all bossy-pants.”

The hue in her eyes flared. “You’re demented.”

My lips curved. “I’ve been called worse.”

She made a face, and not a cute one. “Plenty of other colorful words come to mind.”

“Angel, we need to be responsible. You can’t interfere, not again.”

“You want responsible?” she screeched. “How’s this for responsible?”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

She tucked her hair behind her ears and slipped on her sneakers. “I need to think.”

“Don’t you dare walk out that door,” I roared, all games aside.

The door slammed in my face in typical Angel fashion. Okay. That hadn’t been part of the plan.

Remembering that she was still in her pjs, I sighed and went after her.

Chapter 14

Trying to walk away from me was a futile endeavor. In three powerful strides, I was walking side-by-side with her. What was an angry stride for Angel was a snail’s pace for me. She wasn’t pleased to see me.

“Five minutes,” she grumbled more to herself than me, throwing her arms in the air. “Is that too much to ask for?”

I knew this wasn’t the appropriate time to be amused, but gosh darn it, even annoyed she was adorable. “Do you know how much trouble you can get into in five minutes? I’d rather not take the chance.”

Her eyes flickered to mine. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion, asswipe.”

I bit my lip to keep from smirking. “Now I’m an asswipe?”

“You are when you try to tell me what I can and can’t do.” She halted suddenly, whirling on me. “If I don’t do this, Emma will go back to hating us.”

I sighed. “She already hates me.”

Angel cocked her head. “And Travis will be heartbroken again.”

It was like rubbing salt in an open wound. “We don’t know for sure that will happen. Have you thought that maybe there might be a second reaction? Travis and Emma have spent a lot of time together, refortified their love or whatever. It is possible that Emma has changed, and you would be giving her the freewill to choose. Not choosing for her. Isn’t that what you want?”

She hesitated, then opened her mouth and closed it. “Holy crap. You’re right.”

“Don’t sound so shocked.”

The rubber sole of her flip-flop kicked a pebble. “I’m afraid.”

That I understood. People we both cared for could get hurt, could turn on us. It was scary stuff. I wanted to give her a bright star in the otherwise gloomy sky. “You can’t just change what the heart wants, and I truly believe she loves Travis.”

Blinking rapidly, she took a short breath. “Yeah, that’s if she is willing to listen. If you haven’t noticed, she is kind of hardheaded.”

“Like someone else I know.”

I got a sassy glare, and just when I thought she was going to say something spunky, the expression on her face changed. The fire in her eyes dissolved, replaced by concentration. One second she was with me, and the next she was drifting away.

“Do you hear that?” she whispered in an eerie voice, lifting her face to the right of her shoulder.

I was afraid to ask what she heard. If she said dead people, I was going to grab her and hightail it back to the house, no looking back. “What do you hear?”

“The howling,” she answered without faltering.

Huh? I had flipping superb hearing and right now, all I heard was crickets, the bustling of leaves, and…

Shit.

While I had been
listening
, Angel took off. She had to stop doing that to me. “Angel, I don’t hear anything,” I said, zipping beside her.

Dead air.

“There is nothing out there.” I grabbed her arm. “Just wait a minute.”

Dark strands of hair flew out around her. “It’s hurt, Chase.”

“What is? A dog?” I rationalized, because I seriously didn’t want to believe the alternative.

She shook her head, eyes large and wild. “No. A hellhound.”

My step faltered, which never happened. WTF? She was worried about a hellhound? The world must have gone down the shitter, or this was a very horrible acid trip. “You’re sure?” I asked. It didn’t hurt to double check, just in case I was losing my mind.

Her pace quickened, almost to a run. “Positive,” she replied, breathily.

I matched my speed with hers. “Angel, are you listening to yourself?”

She had gone off the sidewalk and was headed toward one of the many parks. This particular one was the closest to our house.

It was ludicrous of me to think I might reason with her. When had that ever happened?

We trucked up a hill, and at the peak, I stared down the grassy slope into a clearing that was shaded by ancient trees. Poppies the color of a burnt sunset spread like wildfire throughout the clearing. It was beautiful and unexpected. The scent in the air was surprising—sweet honey. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to enjoy the stunning scenery.

Angel’s glassy gaze was only for the darkened woods just beyond the poppies. Her eyes frantically began to search through the overgrown brush and thick, thorny branches. “I have to find it,” she chanted.

“Why?” I demanded, running a hand through my hair, confused as ever. “What the hell for?”

Glowing eyes of dark blue, ringed in red, pierced me, and I suddenly wished I hadn’t asked. “Because it is under my charge.” Her voice was flat.

I took a step back, swallowing as I observed her for a telltale sign that it was still Angel I was seeing. A chill tiptoed down my spine. “Angel?” I didn’t know what to do. My options seemed limited.

One—I hauled her skinny ass, fireman-style back to the house and handcuff her to a chair. I’d had it up to here and then some with her gallivanting off on her zombie tangents.

Two—I go against my nature to protect her and wait to see what craziness happened next, because the only real way to know what was going on was to stay and face the problem.

Her expression contorted. “Don’t you hear it? The screaming?”

The only thing I heard was the soft ripple of a gentle stream that wove at the base of the woods. It was small, just barely enough to cover your feet if you were to wade in it. Natural pebbles and stones covered the bottom, moss spreading over them. She walked closer to the mini creek, pain fracturing in the dark blue of her eyes.

Immediately, I knew something was wrong, well, more wrong than normal. This wasn’t like the other times she had zonked out on me. My demon marks thrived in red-hot pain against my skin, and I hissed.

Her pain was my pain, and holy moose balls was she having some serious shooting pain. Adrenaline coursed through me, sending my heart slamming against my chest, ribbons of fear burrowed in my stomach. I ignored the discomfort and placed my hands on her shoulders, spinning her around.

She took one good look at me. “I don’t know how to stop it,” she sobbed, sinking to her knees in the damp grass, her hands pressed against her ears.

Never have I felt so helpless, except that time of course when she died. I knew that whatever she was experiencing wasn’t real, but in her head. Someone was screwing with her, and I was going to tear him limb from limb. When I figured out who was responsible, and I
would
figure it out, the bastard was going to bleed. He was going to scream, beg for mercy. He was going to die.

All fingers pointed at Hell.

I kneeled down next to her with the intention of wrapping her in my arms, but she thrashed in my hold, pushing against me. “Angel! It’s me.” If she could pull me from my darkest hour, then I should be able to do the same for her.

Right?

Her body went lax, and the breath I’d been holding expelled from my lungs. Slipping my fingers under her chin, I tilted her face up, needing to see her eyes. They were clear again. The red ring of Hell gone, but before I got the chance to be joyous, I had my own little OMG moment.

My stalker was back.

For crying out loud. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

Which was the truth. I pushed aside the fact that he was out there, somewhere, watching us, and put all my focus on Angel. In those few precious moments of distraction, her body had an adverse reaction. Shudders racked her from head to toe, yet it was a puddle of black fluid, pooling in the stream that captured my eyes. I watched as her blood washed away downstream as the tangy taste of fear coated me.

My eyes ran over her body and then her face, desperately looking for the source. Sticky, dark blood oozed from her nose, dripping into the water. Ripping the shirt off my back, I dabbed at the end of her button nose. “Here, keep it pinched.”

“What happened?” Her voice was so quiet, and her eyes clouded with confusion and a touch of panic.

I’d had enough, and apparently, so had she. My only concern was getting us out of here before things decided to go south—again. I was about to help her to her feet when the color drained from her face. The sight of her own blood covering her hands had an ill effect.

“Oh, no you don’t,” I warned. She was not going to faint on me. I wouldn’t allow it.

Half expecting her to defy me, I was surprised that she clung to consciousness. Long lashes fluttered, but she fought.

“Hang on.” I swept her into my arms, saying a mental “F you” to Hell, and took off at blurring speeds. I didn’t care who saw me, and it wasn’t like I didn’t break the rules on a daily basis. I breezed through the front door and down the hall like a whirlwind. My bedroom was the closest room. Tenderly, I set her in the middle of my bed, wrapping her in a mound of blankets.

She pulled them tight around her, fingers clutching the ends of the material. Battling an invisible force had taken its toll. It might be eighty degrees outside, yet she was shivering. The mattress groaned as I edged onto the bed, closing the distance between us. I pressed my lips to her knuckles. “Talk to me,” I pleaded, her silence filling me with trepidation. “Come on, Angel Eyes. Tell me what’s going on.”

She turned her head, clamping her eyes. I wanted to be strong for her, strong for us both, but I couldn’t help but be afraid of what was happening. However much I didn’t want to admit it—not to myself and mostly certainly not to her—this sick feeling at the bottom of my gut wasn’t going away.

“Hey,” I said as softly as possible. “Please look at me.”

Her long lashes squeezed tighter together, like she was fighting tears. I knew her emotions were delicate and right at the surface, ready to burst free. Confusion. Fear. Pain. Blame. You name it, she was feeling it.

Shaking inside and out, she was a wreck.

I took her chin between the pads of my thumb and pointer finger, turning her to face me, and I dropped a kiss on each closed eyelid. “It’s okay, Angel. Whatever is happening, whatever you are feeling, it’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ll always be here for you.”

Oh crap.

The balloon burst.

As the first tears rolled down her cheeks, her voice broke into a throaty sob, shaking her shoulders. She tumbled into my arms, and I pulled her against me, enclosing my arms around her. Grief and fear shook her body, and I didn’t know what else to do but hold her as close as possible.

My heart splintered as it always did at the sight of her blue eyes welling with tears. I wanted to hit something.

Dear God, what have I done?

I had only wanted to save her, but by saving her, had I condemned her to a life far worse? Death had told me that there would be a price, and at the time,
I
would have paid any price. How stupid of me to think it was just my soul that I was sacrificing. Once Hell got its clutches on you, it never let go. It would stop at nothing to claim her, to use her, for its own personal gain, as well as to hurt me.

Feeling utterly useless around tears, I kept whispering softly to her, over and over again. “It’s okay. I’ll figure this out.” The words were so lacking, and I felt like an idiot for saying them, but it was the only I comfort I knew how to give.

As her tears soaked the front of my shirt, I silently vowed I would find out if my fears were true. And if they were, I would do whatever it took to stop them. I refused to believe that it wasn’t plausible.

I would fix this—fix her.

Hell wouldn’t take her from me.

I was going to win this war.

Gathering her close to me, I picked her up and brought her onto my lap, leaning against the headboard. Skin cold against mine, I yanked the blanket over us, wrapping the downy warmth around us. She burrowed into me.

I don’t know how much time passed before her tears dried up and her breathing evened. Minutes? Hours? It was irrelevant. Nothing mattered except for Angel. For once, the house stayed quiet—not a peep—not a soul disturbed us.

The gods must have given me a reprieve.

She sat up, eyes puffy but emotionally purged, and it looked good on her. She dragged a much steadier hand through her hair, which had fallen out of the messy bun. “I know you want answers, and I do too,” she relented. “But do you think we can not talk about
it
, at least not right now?”

How could I deny her request when she was sitting all snuggly on my bed, her legs tucked underneath her? The answer was simple. I couldn’t. “Want to have sex?” I joked, needing to erase the sadness.

She let out a light laugh, the strain in her body releasing. “I didn’t come to college to have sex with you whenever I wanted.”

I flashed a daring grin. “You didn’t?”

The smile stayed. “No, you jerk.”

That’s when I tackled her, rolling her under me, the mattress groaning from our combined weight. She squealed like a girl, flattening her hands on my chest. This was my idea of a distraction, and I wiggled my hips. Being a dude, my mind immediately went to one thing. “Are you sure, because right now I’m getting mixed signals?”

Her eyes lit up as she placed a hand to my cheek. “Thank you.”