Chapter Twelve

When Marielle stepped outside, the cool mountain air instantly lifted her spirits. A bird sang in the forest, and the scent of pine wafted toward her on a breeze. Glory to God in the Highest!

There was no answer, but she refused to let that get her down. She had a plan now for getting back to heaven, and even though she was stuck on Earth for a short time, she had to admit she was enjoying it. Especially her time with Connor.

The porch light was on, making it easier to see the clearing in front of the cabin. Connor was moving quickly back and forth from a woodpile to the clearing. The moon, over three-quarters full, gleamed off his red hair. His kilt swished about his knees as he stood cut logs on end in a large circle.

While digging through the clothes from Emma, she’d found socks and shoes and a hooded jacket. She was glad now that she’d put them all on. The night air was chilly, and apparently, she was going to be outside for a while.

“Come.” Connor motioned for her to join him.

She descended the steps, mindful of the odd strings dangling off her shoes. She glanced at his shoes. “Oh, I need to tie myself up like you.”

“Excuse me?”

She pointed at her shoes.

“Och, yer laces are untied. Sit and I’ll show you.”

She sat on the porch step. When he knelt in front of her, her heart rate quickened. His head was bowed so close to hers, she could see how fine and shiny his hair was. His gaze was focused downward at her shoes, and the thick fringe of his eyelashes cast shadows across his cheekbones. There was something about the shape of his face, his cheekbones and jawline that made her feel strange inside, as if her innards were quivering. It was hard to breathe, too, and she wondered if he could feel her shaky breaths against his face.

“Watch carefully so ye’ll learn how.” He glanced up and his smoky blue eyes widened.

Her heart lurched. She’d been caught admiring his face. Heat crept up to her cheeks.

His jaw shifted. “I’ll start again. Watch.”

She focused on her shoe as he tied the lace and described the act, but her heart kept pounding. What was wrong with her? She shouldn’t exacerbate her situation by developing strong feelings toward Connor. She was hoping to return to heaven as soon as possible. She couldn’t fall prey to human desire and longing.

“There.” He finished. “Ye want to try?”

“Yes.” She leaned over to mimic his movements. Her hair fell forward obscuring her view. She pushed it back and was halfway through tying the second shoelace when her hair fell forward again. She made a small sound of frustration. She couldn’t see, and if she let go to shove her hair back, she’d have to start over.

He gently gathered her hair and held it back. Her heart leaped up her throat. With trembling fingers, she completed the bow.

He released her hair. “Ye did it. Ye learn quickly.”

“You gave good instructions.”

He jerked to a standing position. “Och, well, that was the sort of instruction ye were supposed to receive.” He walked stiffly away.

She wondered what was bothering him as she joined him in the middle of the clearing. Maybe Brynley was right about men and the Three-Step Rule.

“I’ve set twelve logs around us like the numbers on a clock,” he began.

“It reminds me of a stone henge.” She pivoted in a circle. “I’ve always loved those.”

“ ’Tis no’ like a henge.”

“I think it is.”

He gave her an impatient look. “Nay. I know what a henge looks like. I have one at home.”

“You do? Can I see it?”

A pained look flitted over his face before he turned cold as stone. “I never go there. Forget I said it.”

Her mouth fell open. Why would a man refuse to go home? It must have something to do with the black pit of pain in his soul. Now that she was alone with him, maybe she should ask him about the blond woman Darcy. Or she could discover more about him by embracing him. That strategy made her heart race.

“Stand here in the center.” He clasped her shoulders from behind and moved her into position. He pointed over her shoulder at the large log straight in front of her. “That one represents twelve o’clock, yer target. Our goal is for ye to learn to knock down yer target and only yer target. Agreed?”

“Yes.” She nodded, frowning. She would have to be careful to conserve her energy if she was going to do this over and over.

“All right,” Connor said, standing behind her. “For yer first attempt, try to narrow yer blast to half the circle, nine o’clock to three o’clock. Can ye do that?”

“I’ll try.” She looked from side to side, concentrating on the logs. Could she actually control the scope of the blast? And the intensity? “Maybe you shouldn’t stand right behind me.”

“Why? Are ye planning to fail?”

She glared at him over her shoulder. “I’ve never tried this before.” And if she didn’t manage to turn down the volume, she’d run out of energy in just a few attempts.

“Verra well.” He moved back till he was standing between two logs. “Have a go then.”

With a groan, she extended her hands. She wasn’t sure how to do this other than using her thoughts. Less power. Half the circle. She squeezed her eyes shut, and let loose what she hoped was a small spurt of energy.

She heard some thudding noises and a muffled curse behind her. She opened her eyes. The logs in front of her had moved about twenty feet, crashing into the forest, but she usually averaged forty to fifty feet, so she had managed to decrease her energy output. Not bad, she thought with a grin. She turned and winced.

The logs behind her had flown twenty feet, too. And so had Connor.

She ran to where he had landed on a snowy patch beneath a tree. He was flat on his back with a stunned look on his face and his kilt blown up.

She looked away, but the image was still seared into her mind. Somehow, he looked even larger tonight than he had last night. Brynley’s description of oral sex came rushing back, and her cheeks blazed with heat.

“What the hell was that?” He sat up, glaring at her as he pushed his kilt down. “Ye were supposed to knock down only half the circle.”

“I . . . missed.”

His eyes narrowed and his mouth thinned. “If ye want to see my privates, lass, just say so. There’s no need to keep knocking me down.”

“I didn’t do that just to look at your—” She grabbed one of the fallen logs and returned it to the clearing. “These logs only moved about twenty feet, and that’s half the distance I usually move things, so I actually did have some success.”

He hefted himself to his feet. “Verra well. I believe you.” He went along the forest edge, locating the logs and returning them to the clock formation, his actions speeding up until she could see only a blur.

She returned to the center of the circle. “You move so quickly. Is that one of your skills as a vampire?”

“Aye, we have super strength and speed. Heightened senses.” He walked toward her. “I can hear it when yer heartbeat quickens.”

She stiffened.

He gave her a knowing look. “Like it is now.”

Her heart lurched. “I’m excited about helping you locate and defeat the Malcontents. It will make the world a safer place.”

His mouth twitched. “We’d better not achieve world peace. Ye could have a heart attack.” He stopped beside her. “So do ye plan on knocking me down again?”

“I’ll try to do better, but I can’t guarantee it. You might be safer on the porch.”

One end of his mouth curled up in a half smile. “Doona fash. ’Tis my choice to stay close to you. I know it comes with a risk.”

Once again, he positioned himself next to the logs behind her. She concentrated on the half circle in front of her and released a small burst.

This time the logs moved only about five feet before toppling over. She glanced over her shoulder, and four logs were still standing, along with Connor.

“Ye’re doing it!” He strode toward her. “Excellent, lass.”

Her heart swelled with his praise. She turned to face him, and he grinned. Her breath caught. He looked so young and handsome when he smiled like that, as if a few centuries of despair had rolled off him. His smile faded and his eyes narrowed.

Good heavens! She faced front. He must be able to hear her heart racing. She pressed a hand to her chest. How could she stop it? She didn’t seem to have any control over it.

He dashed around the circle to stand up the fallen logs. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves.

Again and again she practiced. After about a dozen attempts she was knocking down only three logs—the target and a log on each side of it.

She swayed. “I—I’m sorry. I’m out of energy.”

“Come and rest.” He led her onto the porch and settled her into a rocking chair.

She rested her head back and closed her eyes. A few minutes later, she heard his footsteps approach.

“Here.” He pressed a bottle of water into her hand.

“Thank you.” She took a sip. “Are we done for the night?”

“Nay.” He leaned against a wooden post and crossed his arms. “When ye sense death, will ye be able to tell which ones are caused by Casimir and his minions?”

She drank some water. “Not directly. I can tell how many are dying, and if there is a lot of fear and terror involved, I can sense that.”

He nodded slowly. “They’ll feed right after they awaken at sunset, so the timing will give us a clue, too. How well can ye pinpoint the location? Can ye give us coordinates like GPS?”

She frowned. “It doesn’t work like that. Normally, I just feel where to go and my wings take me there.” She sighed. “I may not be of any use to you without my wings.”

“Ye can feel it in yer mind?” When she nodded, he pushed away from the post and stepped toward her. “Then I will be your wings.”

“How? Can you fly?”

“I’ll teleport you. I have a tracking device embedded in my arm, so the other Vamps can follow me.”

“How will you know where to go? I don’t know how to tell you.”

“Vampires have some psychic ability, so I should be able to slip inside yer mind.”

Her eyes widened as she gazed at him, stunned. She’d felt so empty and lonesome without the constant voices of the Heavenly Host filling her mind with song and praise. She missed them sorely, yet somehow the thought of Connor being in her mind was . . . troubling. His thoughts would not be angelic. And having only one other person in her mind made it seem too . . . intimate.

She swallowed hard. “That works both ways. If we make a connection, I’ll see into your mind, too.”

His jaw shifted. “ ’Tis a risk I’ll have to take.” He glowered at her. “I’ll expect you to cooperate. When I enter yer mind, focus all yer concentration on the location ye wish to go to. As soon as we’ve teleported, I’ll break the connection. The whole procedure should only take a few seconds.”

“I see.” He was hoping it would happen so fast she wouldn’t have time to peek into his black pit of pain and remorse.

“We need to practice,” he continued. “Every night that Casimir and his Malcontents are allowed to roam free, they will feed and kill.”

She set the bottle down and stood. “All right. Let’s do it.”

He nodded. “We should start off with something easy.”

She gave him a wry look. “An easy death? Tell that to the person who’s dying.”

“I meant a nonviolent death. And one close enough that there’ll be no risk of me teleporting into daylight and getting fried.”

“I understand.” She closed her eyes to slowly access her sense of death. She’d learned years ago not to fling the door open, otherwise she could be overwhelmed by the amount of death that occurred worldwide at any given moment. She reached out gently to the nearest town where a death was occurring.

“I found one.” She opened her eyes and for half a second caught Connor watching her intently before he shifted his gaze. “There’s a town nearby where an elderly man is dying in a nursing home.”

“Can ye focus on a place close by? If we teleport straight into the nursing home, we’ll cause a fright. Or ye might end up accidentally brushing against someone and causing more death. Some place outdoors and isolated would be best.”

She nodded, frowning. She’d never purposely missed the mark before. “I’ll try.”

He checked the dagger in his sock. “We shouldna run into any trouble, but I like to be prepared.” He looked her over and grabbed the hem of her hooded jacket. “ ’Tis a wee bit chilly out here.” He connected the zipper and zipped it up to her chin.

“Oh, I was wondering how that worked.” She smiled sheepishly. “I knew it looked like the fastener on my pants, but I didn’t how to get it started.” She moved the zipper up and down. “I love this. Humans are so clever.”

“Lass.” He covered her hand with his own to stop her. “Are ye ready?”

To let him inside her mind? She swallowed hard. She’d always been an open book before, sharing everything with the Heavenly Host. But she’d never had these quivery feelings of desire before. She didn’t want Connor to know that he was causing them, that even now she wanted him to pull her into his arms and kiss her.

She took a deep breath. She would focus all her thoughts on a place in the vicinity of the nursing home. That would be all he would sense. “I’m ready.”

He grabbed her by the upper arms and pulled her close.

She gasped. Good heavens!

“Ye need to hold on to me,” he said softly. “So I can teleport with you.”

“Oh, right.” She slipped her arms around his neck. Her heart thundered in her chest. Concentrate. Think about the location. Not about being in his arms.

His arms enveloped her and his cheek pressed against her temple. “Open yer mind,” he whispered. “Let me in.”

She shuddered when she felt a cold stab at her brow.

Marielle. His voice echoed in her mind.

He was with her, his presence strong and determined. So masculine. And bold, as if he were staking a claim on her soul. Marielle, he repeated, and she wanted to melt around his voice.

She rallied her thoughts and focused on the location.

I have it, his voice said, then everything went black.

Connor scanned their surroundings quickly to see if anyone had witnessed their arrival. Marielle had stumbled a bit when they materialized, so he continued to hold her. They appeared to be in a dark alley.

“Good. No one saw us.” He glanced down at her pale face, and his heart squeezed like it always did when he looked at her. Only now, it was stronger. He’d been inside her mind, and it was a beautiful place filled with love and compassion, so much so that he wondered if she could ever forgive the monstrous things he’d done in the past.

Doona even think about it. He was a condemned man, already on the list for hell. An angel could never care for him, not one as beautiful as Marielle. At least he suspected his secrets were safe. She’d been too busy protecting her own thoughts to even attempt to breach the thick wall he’d taken five centuries to build.

He led her toward the street. “Are ye all right?”

“Yes.” She peered to the right. “The nursing home is that way.”

Apparently, they’d arrived at one of the main streets in this town for it was fairly busy. Cars drove by in a steady stream. Other cars were parked along the street. The sidewalk was wide, and street lamps illuminated a long line of shops with colorful signs and awnings.

Pedestrians walked by in small groups, chatting and laughing. Horns blared in the distance. The scent of grilled meat drifted from a nearby restaurant.

Across the street, a wrought-iron fence separated the sidewalk from a garden. A large arch spanned an opening in the fence with the words Hudson Park painted across it. A man in a security uniform was closing and locking the gate.

“Let’s find the nursing home,” Connor said. “I want to see how close you managed to get us.”

“There are too many humans here,” she whispered. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt someone.”

“Stay close to the storefronts. I’ll make sure no one touches you.” Except me. He hooked her hand around his elbow and led her down the street.

She clung to his arm, her shoulders hunched with tension as she watched mortals pass by.

He recalled the way her touch had activated the toilet and bathroom sink. It seemed like an odd gift for an angel of death to possess. “Does yer touch always kill?”

She frowned. “My touch used to heal, but now . . .” She shook her head. “It was hard for me to adjust to being a Deliverer. The job isn’t meant to be destructive, although humans tend to see it that way. We deliver souls, giving them comfort and companionship as they cross over.”

“But when ye touch someone, they die.”

She sighed. “The touch itself doesn’t destroy. It releases energy, enough energy to set the soul free. And when all the energy is gone, the body ceases to be.”

“I see.” So when it came to mechanical objects, her touch released energy, making things work until the energy ran out.

After a few blocks, she relaxed and looked curiously about. “This is amazing. I’ve never done this before.”

“Walk down a street?”

She smiled. “I like the way you say down.” Her smile widened when he rolled his eyes. “And no, I’ve never walked dune a street. We usually come to complete an assignment, and then leave. Oh, look.” She stopped to peer into the window of a gift shop.

Connor checked to see what was catching her eye. It was a sun catcher in the shape of an angel with crystal wings and a golden halo.

He smiled. “Och, will ye look at that. Ye’re famous.”

She laughed, and the sound warmed his heart.

Her head turned when a young woman walked past them eating an ice cream cone. “What is that?”

“Ice cream.” He slapped himself mentally. She was probably hungry. He’d made her work for several hours, and he hadn’t even thought about feeding her. “Ye should try some.”

He spotted the ice cream parlor two shops down and led her inside. Two human customers were at the counter, and she tugged at his arm.

“Doona fash,” he whispered. He positioned himself between her and the customers. They received their orders and wandered off to a table in the corner.

He stepped up to the counter. “A cone, please.”

The lad behind the counter took one look at his kilt and smirked. “Whatever you say, man. What flavor?”

Connor ignored the pimply-faced youth and turned to Marielle. “What kind would ye like?”

“There are so many to choose from.” She wandered down the freezer, peering through the window, then jerked upright with a smile. “Chocolate.”

Connor smiled back. “One scoop of chocolate for the lady.”

“The one wearing the pants in the family?” the lad muttered as he scooped up a ball of chocolate ice cream.

Connor narrowed his eyes. He was sorely tempted to cuff the young whelp on his head, but he wanted to get the ice cream for Marielle.

She edged closer to him and whispered loudly, “Did I ever tell you how much I love your kilt?”

“Nay.” He wondered if she was telling the truth or putting on a show for the rude employee. “Do ye really?”

“Oh yes.” She nodded seriously. “It makes me think about . . . giving you a blow job.”

The lad squeaked and dropped the scoop of ice cream on the floor. “Don’t worry! I’ll get you another one.” He hunched over, digging furiously at the ice cream, his face bright red.

Connor arched a brow at Marielle, and she looked away, her cheeks blushing. He bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud.

The lad completed the cone and reached toward Marielle.

“I got it.” Connor grabbed the cone, then passed it on to Marielle. “How much do I owe you?”

The lad told him, then lowered his voice. “That’s an awesome kilt, dude. Where did you get it?”

“In Edinburgh.” Connor retrieved some money from his sporran and handed it to the lad, who looked perplexed. “That’s in Scotland.”

“Oh, right. That’s like . . . far away, huh?”

“Ye could probably order one online,” Connor muttered as he dropped the change into his sporran.

“That’s right!” The lad grinned. “Thanks, dude.” He glanced at Marielle, then gave Connor two thumbs up.

He found himself grinning as he led Marielle from the store and down the sidewalk. “I appreciate what ye did, lass, but there are certain things ye doona talk about in public. For instance, blow—” He glanced at her and jerked to a stop.

Holy Christ Almighty, she was running her tongue all over the scoop of ice cream. A bead of chocolate drizzled down the cone. She caught it with the tip of her tongue, then dragged her tongue up the side of the cone.

His groin tightened. “Good Lord,” he whispered.

She licked her lips. “Would you like some of this?”

God, yes. “Nay.” He frowned at the cone she was extending toward him. “It would probably make me ill.”

“Oh, that’s a shame ’cause it’s really good. Though I’m not quite sure how to eat it.” She opened her mouth, molded her lips around the entire scoop, and sucked on it.

He groaned.

She gave him a worried look. “Are you all right?”

He looked away. “I will be. Where is the nursing home?” And do they have ice packs?

“It’s on the other side of the street. Just past the park.”

“All right.” He walked slowly down the sidewalk, trying his best to ignore the sucking and slurping noises she was making. The ladies didn’t need to give her any instructions. She was a natural.

In spite of the growing discomfort in his kilt, he found himself smiling again. She had purposely embarrassed herself in the ice cream shop in order to lend him support.

A loud noise drew his attention. Someone was having trouble starting a car that was parked half a block up the street. The engine made a whirring sound, then died. He caught the words of the distraught woman inside the car.

“Please, please start! Don’t die on me now. Please, just get me home,” she wailed. “Oh God, help me!”

He took Marielle by the elbow and maneuvered her over to the car. “Let’s cross the street here.”

“Okay.” She took a bite out of the cone, then stepped off the curb.

He pretended to bump into her, causing her to stumble against the car’s rear bumper. “Sorry.”

The car started, and the woman inside squealed with joy.

He bit his lip to keep from laughing as he pulled Marielle back onto the sidewalk. “Are ye all right?”

She nodded and took another bite into the cone. “This is really good. I’m sorry you can’t have any.”

He grinned. “I’m fine.”

She studied him as she chewed. “Are you usually this happy?”

“Nay.” He watched the car drive off. “I havena been this happy in centuries.”

“You look very handsome when you smile.”

The tenderness in her eyes nearly melted his heart. “Come.” He took her hand in his and led her across the street.

By the time she finished her ice cream cone, they were standing in front of the nursing home.

“We arrived too far away,” he said. “We’ll try again tomorrow night.”

She tilted her head back to gaze at the stars. “It was a good passing. His family and friends were by his side.”

“Ye can sense that?”

She nodded, still gazing at the night sky. “He’s very happy to be with his wife again. He lost her to cancer a few years ago and missed her sorely. That sort of love is amazing, don’t you think?”

His chest grew tight.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “Can you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“So much love. He’s surrounded with it.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “Glory to God in the Highest.”

Something jabbed at his chest, causing a crack in his defenses. He lifted a hand to wipe the tear from her face, but stopped. How could he even touch her? She was so perfect, and he was so flawed. And yet, he wanted her so much. He lowered his hand.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him.

Christ Almighty, he was falling for her. “We should teleport back.” He looked around. The parking lot was too visible from the busy street. The park. It looked empty and dark. “Come.” He motioned for her to follow.

The side gate was locked with a chain, but with a quick jerk, the chain broke. He led her inside.

They walked down a brick path, flanked by brilliant yellow and red flowers. In the distance, he could see fruit trees bursting with spring flowers. He breathed deeply of the scented air. This was a night he would cherish for centuries.

She sighed. “It’s lovely.”

“Aye.” He stopped by a water fountain. “Are ye thirsty?” He pushed the button, and a spray of water arched into a basin.

She took a drink, then rinsed her hands, and they resumed their leisurely walk.

When they reached a crossroads, she halted with a gasp. “Is that a carousel?”

She ran up to the low fence that surrounded it. “Look at all the different animals. I love it.”

“Would ye like to ride on it?”

She waved a dismissive hand. “It’s closed.”

He leaped over the low fence. “Come on.” He grabbed her by the waist, lifted her over the fence, and deposited her next to him.

“Connor, it’s not working.”

He jumped onto the carousel platform and extended a hand to her. “Trust me.”

She placed her hand in his. He pulled her onto the platform, and it lurched into motion.

She gasped, stumbling to the side, but he steadied her. Music blared around them, a waltz played by a pipe organ. All the twinkling white lights came on.

“Good heavens.” Her eyes widened with astonishment. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Come.” He led her to a white unicorn with a golden horn and saddle.

It was moving up and down, making it difficult for her to mount, so he levitated her up and placed her on the saddle. She tilted her head back and laughed.

When he climbed onto the horse next to her, she looked at him and laughed some more. “Connor, you’re riding a pink horse with a garland of flowers.”

He glanced down and frowned. “Bugger.”

She laughed again, and his frown turned into a smile. When had he ever smiled this much in one evening? Never, not even as a human. Life had been too harsh back then, and survival had been a constant challenge.

He watched Marielle, marveling over the expression of pure joy on her face. What was really amazing was he’d had a part in causing her joy. After centuries of misery and remorse, he hadn’t even thought himself capable of joy.

Or love. His heart squeezed. Christ, he was falling hard.

“Hey!” a voice yelled over the music. “What the hell are you doing here? The park is closed.”

As the carousel swung around, he spotted the security guard taking out a cell phone.

“I’m calling the police!”

Marielle gasped. “Are we in trouble?”

He jumped down from his horse and grabbed her. “Trust me.” He teleported, taking her with him.

They materialized eighty yards away. The carousel instantly went dark. The music and motion ground to a stop.

The security guard stared. “What the hell?”

Connor shot a surge of vampire mind control at him. Nothing happened. Ye’ll go home, remembering nothing.

The guard wandered off toward the front gate. Connor smiled at Marielle and led her farther into the park. His heightened senses had picked up the scent of roses. Sure enough, they were soon in the midst of a rose garden.

Marielle pivoted to look around. “It’s a piece of heaven.” She faced him and grinned. “Thank you. I’ll always remember this night.”

“So will I.” He plucked a budding rose and handed it to her.

With a laugh, she accepted it. The bud unfurled into a large, beautiful blossom. But then it withered and turned brown. She dropped it with a horrified gasp.

Bugger. He should have known that would happen.

She stepped back. “I killed it. I’m sorry.”

“Nay, I killed it the minute I picked it.”

She shook her head. “I hate being a Deliverer. I hate it.” Tears glimmered in her eyes. “All I ever wanted was to be a Healer.”

“Ye are a Healer.” He stepped toward her. “Ye’re healing me.”

Her eyes widened.

He moved closer. And closer. Her gaze held steady, never wavering from his face.

Holy Christ Almighty, he shouldn’t do this. It would give her a chance to see into the black pit in his soul. She might learn what a rotten, coldhearted bastard he really was.

He touched her cheek. She didn’t pull away.

Doona do it! He slid his hand around the back of her neck. “Are ye going to stop me?”

“No,” she whispered, and touched his chest.

And he was lost.

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