Free Dark Awakening by Charlotte Featherstone Page B

sight cleared until she was once more looking up at the statue of the fallen angel. His face was not the face in her vision. The angel looming before her now, had broken and bloodied wings, but the angel she had seen in her vision was whole and untainted.
    Closing her eyes, another snippet of colour flashed before her and Nadira was once more amidst the remainder of her vision. She saw herself standing on the street, her face tilted to the heavens as her hair whipped around her cheeks. The storm clouds, which grew and blackened, continued churning violently around the circle of the eye until the centre seemed to widen and stretch. It was then that she saw him. The second one. And God above, he was even bigger, stronger—his face even more beautiful than the first angel. The breadth of his wings was great, more majestic. And they were ... black.
    Shaking violently, Nadira came to and looked around, half fearing her vision had come to life. But it had not. She was in Langdon Park, standing at the statue of the fallen angel, the one where she'd told Mary to meet her.
    It was twilight. The last vestiges of the sun were streaking in purple and hot pink bands beneath the darkening clouds. A forked line of lightening shot out from the clouds, followed by a fierce rumble of thunder.
    How long had she been here, standing before the statue? And where the hell was Mary? Hadn't she got the message? What if something had happened to her?
    No, the park was safe she told herself. She wouldn't have suggested they meet there if it wasn't. Besides, both of them found comfort in the angelic statuary that lined the gravel paths. Mary never passed up an opportunity to walk through the gardens.
    So where the hell was she?
    What if...
    No, she wouldn't allow her thoughts to go in that direction. It was a fact Mary was dying. But not tonight. Tonight was not Mary's time to leave this earth.
    Rain drops began to fall. Nadira pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her sweatshirt and flipped open the cover, checking the time. Almost 9:30. Mary was over an hour and a half late.
    Mary . The name of her friend was ripped from her throat as the vision once more came upon her. Two angels, one white winged and one black winged. Both falling from Heaven.
    Christ, what did it mean? That Mary was ... dying—tonight? No, the vision was just some bizarre dream. It was not a real vision. It was not one of those premonitions that had plagued her youth.
    It was just her imagination. Her infatuation, she told herself. She gravitated towards angels in art and sculpture. She saw them in her dreams and collected them in figurines and pictures for her walls. The vision was just a stupid dream, not a message of what was to be.
    The rain was falling in earnest now, and the last rays of the sun had been smothered by black storm clouds. She needed to get out of there. To drive to Mary's and prove to herself that the vision meant nothing. That she had not really seen two angels falling from the sky.
    Running toward the covered bridged that saddled the park canal, Nadira stopped short, concealed by the drooping branches of a towering hemlock. Through her sagging bangs which were dripping rainwater, she could make out the images of two huge shapes crouching on the railings of the bridge. They faced one another, their knees bent, their pale hands pressed together. Both were dressed in all black, their long jackets hanging down over the balustrade, giving them the look of two black ravens perched on the bridge.
    What the hell was this?
    Squinting, Nadira tried to see the image more clearly through the darkness and driving rain. The two giants sat crouched on the railing, not moving, not even talking from what she could hear and see of their mouths. And God, they were huge—and scary.
    As she watched them, her heart started racing. The bridge these two had commanded was the only way to the park entrance and the lot where her car was parked. Despite this, she realised there was