Free Fall From Grace by Eden Crowne Page A

the mortal realm if the demon
lords and ladies weren't so busy scheming and stabbing their allies
in the back, quite literally. My Master needs the Baron's help in
his interpretation of Manifest Destiny and a big land grab.”
    She cocked her head
to one side, thinking more about the connection between Trick and
his Master than demonic politics. “Do the two of you share a blood
bond? You and your boss.”
    “How do you know
about that?” He was surprised. Her connection as an Avenging Angel
was very much to the natural world – despite her spiritual
state.
    “I saw it in a
movie.” And she had.
    “Well, the
screenwriter had it right. To take on my powers I drank his blood
and to seal the contract he took mine. Quite a lot.”
    “So you're
linked.”
    And he understood.
His Master killed those guarding the relic in Hungary himself,
knowing an Angel would be sent. The Death Mark would sense the
blood and seek Trick out, bringing him or her right to their
trap.
    No one could have
predicted what had happened next.
    Not the demon who
held his soul prisoner and certainly not Trick.
    His heart, which had
been racing when the Angel appeared in front of him on the beach
with her flaming sword, began to pound again. This time for a very
different reason. Just like in the bar, he felt the attraction
pulling him towards her. She was too far away. He moved closer,
walking across the loose sand, needing to touch her.
    Warily, Evie inched
back on her perch. One of the rocks shifted and losing her balance,
she started to fall. In an eye-blurring burst of speed, before she
could even flap her wings, he was there, catching her up in his
arms.
    Holding her tightly,
he stared into her eyes. They were the color of antique mahogany,
each iris edged in gold. The gold seemed to flare and burn with a
tiny heavenly fire just like her sword.
    She didn't struggle
against him, saying only, “Put me down.”
    He set her in the
sand. They were standing very close. The Reaper didn't smell like
smoke any more.
    For the space of
several breaths they stood there, moved yet unmoving.
    She was glowing.
Trick saw it, could almost touch it. That pure, clean light. With
her he felt like the man he had once been, his humanity so
tantalizingly within reach. Perhaps that was why he was attracted
to the Angel.
    Was she
redemption?
    He had such layers of
darkness. If she looked into his eyes with that uncanny vision of
hers, she would see them. Could she burn them away? Make him clean
again?
    He reflected back on
his life since he sold his soul. The terrible things he had seen
and done. No, there was no way to erase that. She would see. Evie
would hate him. What had he been thinking. How could he even touch
her with these hands?
    Feeling dirty and
ashamed, he began to walk away. He would run. To Gogmagog. She
could not follow him there. Maybe his master would give him another
chance. Find a different Angel. He probably could make himself do
it. He could. He had done such dark deeds. Yet he couldn't kill
this one. No matter what the consequences.
    Evie was the one who
set all that was to come in motion. She shivered, fright and flight
raging in her heart in equal measure yet unable to stop. Woman now,
not Angel. Enchanted, spellbound; her will no longer felt under her
control. It was like being alive again. Evie was crossing a line,
she knew it. Whether it was the right decision for all the wrong
reasons as she had told the young Guardian Angel or the wrong
decision for all the right reasons, she didn't know. At this moment
in time, it was the only one she could make.
    She reached out,
grasping his wide palm with her slim fingers and pulled him back
beside her. She ran her fingertips along the line of his jaw. His
skin was hot to the touch. He stiffened, almost, though not quite
pulling back. He could have resisted. Jerked out of her grasp and
jumped away.
    He did not.
    He came to her with
almost a moan of surrender.
    Trick reached up, putting his hands on her