Connor remained silent as he joined the priest in the clearing behind the cabin. Father Andrew was gazing at the stars, murmuring a prayer, his breath frosting in the chilly night air.
The priest crossed himself, then turned to Connor. “I have to thank you. This has been a . . . momentous occasion for me.”
Connor hid his surprise. He’d expected the priest to berate him. “Do ye think Shanna will be all right?”
“Yes.” The priest gazed at the stars once more. “I have faith she will come through.”
Connor nodded. Out of habit, he scanned the woods, looking for danger. “Then maybe Roman will be able to forgive me.”
“I believe he will.” Father Andrew glanced at Connor. “Can you forgive yourself?”
He winced. “Roman is the one who transformed me. ’Tis a serious offense in our world to betray one’s sire.”
The priest’s eyebrows rose. “And Roman’s sire was Casimir?”
“Yes. Casimir hates all of us Vamps, but he harbors a special hatred for Roman. That betrayal was personal.”
“I see.” Father Andrew nodded thoughtfully. “Still, I don’t think what happened tonight constitutes a betrayal. It was an accident. You had no way of knowing.”
“I should have known. The warning signs were there.” Just like they were before he’d lost his wife and child. He was always too damned blind, and it was the ones he loved who paid for his mistakes. “I have a long history of screwing up.”
“You might feel better if you talked about it.”
He gave the priest a wry look. “We’ve had this conversation before. I confess nothing.”
“Stubborn as always.” Father Andrew smiled slightly. “That can be a virtue in dangerous times. I’m sure you realize that Marielle needs a protector.”
He nodded. “She is wise in spiritual matters, but naïve when it comes to surviving in this world.”
“Yes, that, too, but I’m mostly concerned about the demon you mentioned.”
“Darafer.”
Father Andrew crossed himself. “Do you think he’ll come back?”
“I’m sure of it. He considers her a fallen angel.”
“She needs protection. Will you do it?” The priest regarded him sternly. “I do not ask it lightly. I will expect you to defend her with your life.”
Connor swallowed hard. “I will.”
“I’ll print out some special prayers I want you to have on hand. And I’ll make sure you have some vials of holy water.”
Connor snorted. “I would feel better with a few swords.”
The priest gripped him on the shoulder. “The demon will attack where you are the weakest. You must be as strong in your faith as you are in physical strength.”
Then he was most likely doomed. “I have never found faith to be easy.”
“Of course not. That is the nature of faith.” The priest squeezed his shoulder. “I have faith in you. And more importantly, Marielle has faith in you. I can see there is a bond between you. She trusts you.”
“I am no’ worthy—”
“None of us are worthy,” Father Andrew snapped, irritation flashing in his eyes. With a sigh, he dropped his hand. “Do you know why I became a priest?”
“To help—”
“That’s my reason now. But originally, I took my vows out of guilt. As a young man, I was stupid and selfish. I drove while intoxicated and slammed into a tree. Killed my best friend.”
Connor inhaled sharply.
“Appalling, I know.” Father Andrew’s mouth twisted. “Did you think Vamps have a monopoly on tragic mistakes?”
“I’m sorry.”
Father Andrew patted him on the back, then went back to gazing at the stars. “Can you imagine thousands of angels all around us, and we do not see them? There is so much I cannot see, but I have a strong feeling that tonight is important. There is a reason you found Marielle.”
“Perhaps.” Connor wasn’t sure his faith could stretch that far. Still, it was lucky that a Vamp had found her. A mortal would have died trying to help her.
“Be careful.”
“I will.” He would have to keep his hands off her. Let her remain innocent and angelic. “She wants to go back to heaven.”
“Don’t we all.” Father Andrew headed back to the porch. “Let’s see how our angel is doing.”
“Say cheese!” Gregori leaned close to her, grinning.
“Why?” Marielle blinked when a bright light flashed.
“It came out well enough, I think.” Robby turned the camera to show them.
She had a glimpse of her startled face next to Gregori’s before he grabbed the camera for a closer look. “Thanks, Marielle. My mom’s gonna love this.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to meet her.” Marielle sighed. “And I’m truly sorry about your friend Shanna. I hope you know I would never purposely harm anyone.”
Robby gave her a skeptical look. “Ye’re an angel of death. No offense, but I would call that a wee bit of harm.”
“We’re called Deliverers, actually. And we’re not supposed to take someone before their time.”
“How does that work?” Gregori lifted his camera, focusing on her. “I mean, do you just go down a line, saying, ‘Eenie meenie mynie moe, sorry, dude, you gotta go’?”
“Excuse me?” She squinted her eyes as the camera flashed. Tiny lights sparkled in front of her.
“What the hell are ye doing?” Connor’s voice boomed from the back of the cabin.
Her heart warmed at the sound of his voice.
“Oh, now there’s a pretty smile.” Gregori snapped another photo of her.
She shook her head as she glanced toward Connor. Flickering lights danced around him as he walked through the kitchen followed by the priest.
“Hey, we should make a video,” Gregori suggested. “We could put her in a white silk choir robe and call it Visitation by an Angel.” He turned to her, his eyes bright with excitement. “Can you do any sort of supernatural tricks?”
“Bloody hell, she’s no’ a circus performer.” Connor grabbed something off the kitchen counter.
“It would be the hottest thing ever on the Internet,” Gregori announced.
“Ye’re no’ marketing an angel!” Connor took aim and threw.
“Hey!” Gregori jumped to the side. “Would you stop throwing coasters at me? I’m not talking about making money off her.”
“That’s a relief,” Father Andrew said dryly. “I was about to excommunicate you.”
Gregori scoffed. “I’m talking about doing something good for mankind. Imagine how awesome everyone would feel if they knew all that holy stuff was real.”
“Stuff?” Father Andrew muttered. “Four years of giving sermons, and that’s what I get back? Holy stuff ?”
Robby chuckled.
Gregori rolled his eyes. “I meant heaven and God stuff. Don’t you think it would give people some badly needed comfort and reassurance if they saw Marielle?”
“No!” She shook her head. “Please! You mustn’t tell anyone about me.”
“What?” Gregori gave her an incredulous look. “Don’t you want people to believe?”
“It wouldn’t be belief if you make my presence known,” Marielle insisted. “That would ruin everything.”
“She’s right.” Father Andrew strode toward them and stopped on the far side of the couch. “People have to believe by faith. If you prove her existence, then everyone would accept her as fact.”
Marielle nodded. “And they would lose their free will. Our Father wants us to . . . choose.” Her throat constricted with a sudden itchy, desperate feeling. She was the last being on Earth who should lecture about making choices. She’d made the wrong ones, and now she was paying the penalty.
“Are ye all right?” Connor’s eyes narrowed.
She opened her mouth to speak, but choked. She coughed, gasped for air, then coughed some more. And more.
She felt a twinge of panic for she no longer had control over her new body. Tears leaked from her eyes. That was strange. Why did a cough cause her to cry?
Connor pressed a bottle of water into her hand. “Drink.”
She sipped some water, then coughed some more, though not as badly. “I don’t know what happened.” She wiped the tears from her face.
“Don’t worry.” Father Andrew smiled as he sat on the couch. “It happens to everybody.”
She sipped more water. Good heavens, now her nose was leaking.
Connor handed her a white tissue.
She dabbed at her nose, but the leak didn’t stop.
Connor stepped in front of her and whispered, “Ye need to blow.”
Blow? She took a deep breath and blew air toward her nose.
His mouth twitched. He took the tissue from her hand and placed it over her nose. “Blow out yer nose, lass.”
She replaced his hands with her own and blew. Amazed, she wiped her nose. “That was so strange. Coughing and leaking and blowing—these bodies do the oddest things.”
“Aye, that they do.”
She glanced at his smoky blue eyes and was instantly lost in the intensity of his gaze. He wanted to touch her again, she could feel it.
Warmth spread to her cheeks. What was it about this man that made her react so strongly? She could just look at him, and her heart would squeeze in her chest. If he touched her, her heartbeat raced and her knees grew weak. She’d kissed him twice. In one night!
The desire she felt was so new to her, so obviously nonangelic. It was tempting to put the blame completely on this new body and its ability to make her feel sensations she’d never experienced before, but in her heart, she knew that wasn’t entirely true.
There were other men in the room, and she had no desire for them. It was all so strange. For millennia, she’d always loved mankind in general, all equally and from a distance. But now, her heart was yearning to be close to only one. Connor.
And he was feeling the same way. He’d admitted it. Desire. Longing. Her skin tingled with goose bumps. She wanted him to touch her again.
When he’d kissed her in the bedroom, she’d caught another glimpse into the darkness that surrounded his heart. An image of a young blond woman had flashed through her mind, a woman named Darcy. Why did she cause Connor so much guilt?
Marielle was impatient to ask him, but she knew it should be done in private. Even then, he might insist it was one of those personal things that humans didn’t talk about.
She wanted to do more than talk. She wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to feel his arms around her and his breath against her cheek. Such a human desire. The demon had warned her that the longer she remained on Earth, the more human she would become.
She had to resist getting too involved with him. The Archangels would never let her back into heaven if she couldn’t prove herself worthy.
“Thank you.” She handed the tissue back.
An odd look passed over his face, then he walked stiffly back past a smirking Gregori to toss the tissue in a trash can.
“My dear, I would love to hear about your life as an angel,” Father Andrew said. He glanced pointedly at the other men. “Anything we hear must be kept confidential.”
Gregori sprawled on the couch. “My mother will kill me if I don’t tell her everything.”
“My wife will want to know, too,” Robby protested. “And Angus and Emma.”
The priest sighed. “Fine. I’ll probably need to tell Roman. We’ll keep this within our small community. Is that all right with you, Marielle?”
“Yes. I’m grateful that you and your friends are helping me.” She knew enough about the current world to know she’d have great difficulty surviving on her own. She had no proof of identity, no birth certificate since she’d never been born, nor any currency to purchase food, shelter, or clothing. Furthermore, it would be nigh impossible to live among humans without inadvertently touching someone and causing a death.
The best place for her was this community of good vampires, and she knew it was more than a coincidence that she’d been found by one of them. Her previous thoughts returned to her. If she could accomplish some sort of noble mission here on Earth, she might be deemed worthy of rejoining the Heavenly Host.
She sat in the rocker and winced at the strange sensation of jeans hugging her thighs and bunching at her knees. Her T-shirt was black with the words Bite Me across the chest. An odd shirt to wear among vampires, but apparently, death didn’t diminish their sense of humor. In fact, for a group of Undead souls, they were remarkably lively.
She cleared her throat, aware that all four men were watching her expectantly. Robby and Gregori were sharing the couch once again with Father Andrew, while Connor stood behind them, his arms crossed over his bloodstained shirt. Her blood. A wave of grief flooded her once more over the loss of her wings. What if she never flew again?
She swallowed hard. “I want to assure you that I mean no harm to anyone. I believe my powers will fade over time, but for now, I will be very careful not to touch any humans.”
“Thank you.” Father Andrew smiled. “But to be perfectly honest, it’s going to be difficult to know if your power fades away. No mortal is likely to volunteer to test it.”
She nodded.
“So how old are you?” Gregori asked.
Robby grunted. “No wonder you doona have a girlfriend.”
She smiled. “It’s hard to say. We don’t view time the same way as you. My full name is Marielle Quadriduum. I was created, along with thousands of other angels, on the Fourth Day.”
“Damn,” Gregori muttered. “You’re like . . . ancient.” He winced when Connor cuffed him on the back of the head. “Well, she is. And I thought you were old.”
Connor arched a brow at him.
“The Fourth Day,” Father Andrew murmured. “The same day God created the sun and moon.”
“Yes. And millions of other suns and moons.” She sighed. “I was assigned to supervise a solar system.”
“Wow!” Gregori grinned. “You were like Empress of the Galaxy. Cool.”
She gave him a dubious look. “There were only three planets.”
Gregori leaned forward. “And one of them had intelligent life?”
“Aye,” Connor muttered, “but ye wouldna recognize it.”
Gregori shot him an annoyed look while Robby chuckled.
Father Andrew shook his head. “Please continue, my dear.”
She leaned back in the rocker. “Each of my planets consisted of a huge, frozen rock surrounded by a thick atmosphere of methane gas.”
“Bummer!” Gregori looked offended on her behalf. “Out of all the planets in the universe, you got stuck with some duds.”
She laughed. “I hate to tell you this, but most of them are duds. Or they appear to be. Many of them still serve an important purpose.”
“Like Jupiter attracting meteors to protect the Earth?” Connor asked quietly.
She nodded, smiling. “Yes.” Leave it to Connor to know about planets that served as protectors.
Gregori glanced over his shoulder at Connor. “You know about astronomy?”
He scowled back. “I’ve been looking at the night sky for almost five hundred years. Why would I no’ learn about it?”
“By the Sixth Day, I was so bored, I asked for a transfer,” she continued. “The Father had created mankind and all sorts of animals on Earth, and He was exceedingly pleased. In fact, we were all fascinated, and the Father wanted to protect His new creations, so many angels were reassigned. Some became Guardians and God Warriors. Others became Healers and Deliverers.”
“Like you?” Robby asked.
She frowned. “I was originally a Healer. Buniel was my supervisor, and we became close friends. I loved healing.”
“What happened?” Gregori asked.
“I . . . disobeyed. The first time, it was in Eastern Europe, toward the end of what the humans call the medieval period. I was reprimanded, and I managed to behave myself for several of your centuries. But the second time I disobeyed—” She shuddered. “It was really bad.”
“You needn’t tell us if you don’t want to,” Father Andrew said quietly.
She didn’t like talking about it, but when she looked at Connor, she felt a sudden urge to confess. She wanted him to know. “I was told to heal a woman in a hospital in Missouri. I did, but as I was leaving, I heard the desperate prayers of another woman, who was crying over a dying child. The little boy was only a year old, and I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t on my list. The woman and child were in so much pain, I couldn’t bear it, so I touched her to give her comfort, and then I touched the boy. When Zackriel arrived to deliver the boy, he was furious that I had healed him. He wanted to take the boy but received orders not to interfere. I would have to watch the result of my wrongdoing. ”
“What could be wrong with saving a young child?” Connor asked.
She winced. “The mother came to believe that her son was special, incapable of being harmed, and therefore, superior to all others. She raised him with that belief, and he . . . he became warped.”
“What did he do?” Father Andrew asked.
Her throat constricted, but she forced the words out. “He murdered. Over and over. And he enjoyed it.” She closed her eyes. “It was my fault. I should have let him die.”
“Ye had no way of knowing,” Connor said.
She opened her eyes to see the compassion on Connor’s face. He wasn’t judging her, and that touched her heart. “It was still wrong of me. I should have trusted in the Father’s wisdom.”
“I guess faith is hard for all of us,” Father Andrew said with tears in his eyes.
She nodded. “My healing powers were stripped, and I was made into a Deliverer. My punishment was to deliver all the women who were raped and murdered by the monster I had allowed to live.”
“He killed women?” Robby asked, his face pale. “What was his name?”
“Otis Crump.”
All four men flinched.
“Bloody hell!” Robby jumped to his feet.
Marielle stiffened at the furious look Robby shot at her before he stalked away. Her mind raced, seeking an explanation for their reaction. Otis had been human all the years she had delivered his victims. She’d been so relieved when he’d finally been imprisoned that she’d immediately put in a request to become a Healer once again. While her request was being considered, she’d been assigned to delivering the elderly. She hadn’t found the work objectionable until tonight when Zackriel had told her to deliver the children who had been attacked by Cheaters.
The order had infuriated her. It was the Cheaters who should be delivered, not the innocent children.
“I’ve heard enough,” Robby growled as he paced around the dinette set. “Angus will have my report. We will have nothing to do with her.”
Connor strode toward him. “Wait—”
“Nay!” Robby glared at Marielle. “She may have killed Shanna, and she came damned close to killing my wife!”
Marielle gasped.
Father Andrew and Gregori stood, so she rose to her feet, also. Her heart pounded as she tried to understand what was happening.
“This proves how dangerous she is to us,” Robby announced.
“Nay,” Connor protested. “It proves how important she is. Her fate has already been linked to ours.”
“I have to agree with Connor,” Father Andrew added, then turned to Marielle. “Robby’s wife, Olivia, worked for the FBI. She was the one who put Otis Crump in jail.”
Marielle’s skin pebbled with goose bumps.
“Aye, but the bastard still tormented her for years!” Robby yelled. “And then Casimir teleported him out of prison and transformed him. He nearly killed Olivia!”
Marielle stumbled back and knocked against the rocking chair. “I—I didn’t know.”
“Ye’re a bloody angel. Ye’re supposed to know everything!” Robby shouted.
She shook her head. “I don’t. Humans, even vampires, have free will. I can’t predict what they’ll do.”
“Ye can predict I want nothing to do with you,” Robby growled. “And I’m telling Angus to do the same.”
“Then ye’re a fool,” Connor said quietly.
Robby spun to face him, his face darkening. His hands curled into fists. “Ye care to repeat that, Connor?”
“Enough!” Father Andrew strode toward them. “Robby, your wife is all right, and Otis Crump is dead. Marielle had nothing to do with him being transformed.”
Robby shot an angry look at her. “She was supposed to let him die.”
“Aye, she disobeyed,” Connor said. “And she was punished for it.”
Marielle’s vision blurred as tears threatened to fall. “I am aware that my mistakes have caused others to suffer. I am truly sorry.” Her gaze met Connor’s, and the fierce determination in his eyes gave her comfort.
“Robby,” Gregori began. He ran a hand through his thick hair. “Dude, we can’t just . . . drop her. What would happen to her?”
Robby folded his arms across his chest, scowling.
“She can sense death,” Connor announced.
Robby glowered at him.
“The next time Casimir and his minions feed and the victims start dying, Marielle will know,” Connor explained before glancing at her. “Ye know exactly where death is happening, aye?”
She nodded.
“Wow,” Gregori whispered.
“We’ve always followed Casimir’s trail of dead bodies,” Connor continued. “But then we arrive after the fact, after Casimir and his minions have escaped. Imagine how it will be if we can arrive while they’re still feeding and we catch them by surprise?”
Robby’s eyes lit up. “I could finally kill Casimir.”
Marielle’s heart expanded in her chest. This was it—the noble mission she needed to accomplish so she could return to heaven. It was perfect! All those arguments with Zackriel where she’d insisted that the evil vampires be stopped—she could now use her powers to make it happen.
Connor looked at her, his eyes gleaming. “We need her. She’s our secret weapon.”
“I agree that Marielle was sent to us for a purpose,” Father Andrew said. He turned to her with a worried frown. “But we must be upfront with you, my dear. Battling Casimir is dangerous. Are you willing to help us?”
She nodded. “Yes. I am.” Her gaze drifted back to Connor, and her heart filled with joy. The Heavenly Father had not abandoned her. He’d sent Connor to rescue her and protect her. But more than that—Connor and his friends were presenting her with a wonderful opportunity to make the world a safer place and, by doing so, prove she was worthy to return to heaven.
She was eager to spend more time with Connor. And she was still curious about the darkness he hid in his heart. Perhaps at some point, she would get up the nerve to ask him about Darcy.