Free Angel's Kiss by Melanie Tomlin Page A

sorts of miracles I cannot perform. I’m sorry that I cannot ease your constant pain.”
    I snorted. “I’m not in constant pain!”
    “Please yourself,” Danny replied. “You may be able to fool yourself, but you can’t fool someone who has lived your life vicariously.”
    “ Please! ” I rolled my eyes. “For someone who doesn’t have any mortal desires you sure seem to know a lot about them.”
    Danny laughed. “You’re right, and once again I must apologise.”
    “Well, at least we can be sure of one thing,” I said.
    “Oh, and what’s that?”
    “Your blood is worth bottling, literally. I mean how handy would it be for me to have angel’s blood on hand to heal myself whenever I split my head open?”
    The look on Danny’s face was priceless. “I don’t plan on letting you get hurt again, and if you do, I’ll heal you, just as I did today. Bottling an angel’s blood is a bad idea.”
    “Why?” I asked.
    “Can you imagine if it fell into the wrong hands? A poison for which there is no cure?”
    An angel blood bank was out of the question then.

 
     
    7. Out for Revenge
     
    I yawned. It came from nowhere, out of the blue.
    “Get some rest,” Danny said. “I heard a rumour that there was some demonic activity not far from here, and I’d like to take the time to check it out. Like monsters, demons prefer the cover of night — the terror it instils in mortals. It might seem more inconspicuous to slink through the night, but just like angels they can see perfectly well no matter the conditions.”
    Danny left the room and I pulled the blankets over me, closing my eyes. Sleep found me quickly.
    Tap, tap … tap, tap.
    I sat up, pushing the blankets off me. I was sure I’d heard a noise. Someone or something tapping on the window. I tilted my head to the side and listened intently — nothing. I lay down again and pulled the blankets up to my chin, closing my eyes once more.
    Tap, tap … tap, tap.
    I knew I’d heard a noise! I slipped out of bed and walked over to the window, almost pressing my nose against the glass. A hand smashed through the window and seized me by the throat. With superhuman strength I was pulled through the broken window. I cried out as the glass razed my flesh, and clawed at the hand clutched around my neck. The man held me above the ground — once again grass — my feet dangling. I struggled to breathe.
    He tilted his head from one side to the other, taking in everything about my face.
    “If we can’t kill you the traditional way, we just have to get more creative,” he said, laughing.
    His hand squeezed around my throat, ever tighter, and I could hear bones groaning from the pressure. I stopped clawing his hand and grasped his wrists. If this was the only way to kill him, so be it — it was him or me. I waited expectantly for the tingling and pain to start in my fingers, but nothing happened. I readjusted my grip — still nothing. Perhaps he needed to bite me for it to work. If I couldn’t encourage him to bite me I was a goner.
    In a hoarse voice — barely a whisper — I said, rather insultingly, “ Bite me, jackass. ”
    He laughed, “Tempting as it is, I know better. To kiss you is to sign my own death warrant.”
    I dug my fingernails into his hands and he actually flinched. I pressed harder, piercing deeply into the skin, expecting to see blood flow freely from the wounds I’d created — nothing. It was as if this creature was bloodless. I realised then — I should have known — his heart was not pumping blood through his body. He was of the living dead and why would the living dead bleed?
    “ Die bitch, die, ” he laughed.
    Bones cracked and my windpipe was being crushed until I could no longer draw breath. I saw silver stars dancing in front of my eyes, then the world went black.
    I woke with a start, my hands reaching for my throat to survey the damage. I could feel no broken bones, no pain at all. I walked to the window and stood a good