An Angel for Emily

by Jude Deveraux

“I, ah, I hit him with my car,” Emily managed to say, even though her throat was horribly dry.

  “And afterward he conned you,” the woman said. “What’d he do, tell you he was gonna go to the police if you didn’t do what he said?”

  “Yes,” Emily said, her eyes wide in surprise. “That’s exactly what he said.”

  “Mmm, I wasn’t sure it was him but now I am. So what con story did he use on you? He’s innocent, of course, but he always has a long list of things he is, like a typewriter salesman. That was my favorite. He got lots of sympathy for that one. Every woman with a computer felt sorry for him. What was his line to get to live with you?”

  “He says he’s an angel,” Emily heard herself saying.

  “Bloody hell,” the woman said under her breath. “That’s a new one. Did you fall for it?”

  “Pretty much,” Emily answered, giving the woman a tentative smile.

  For several long moments the woman looked at Emily, her perfectly made-up eyes narrowed. “My father always said schooling was wasted on girls. Guess he was right, if you’ve read all these books and still believe a killer like Mike is an angel.” She leaned forward. “So how did he explain his missin’ wings? Or did he grow some?” This last seemed to amuse her a great deal and she laughed hard, showing what had to be artificially white and unnaturally perfect teeth.

  “Real angels don’t have wings,” Emily said and was amazed at her own calmness. But then, what else could happen to her? In the last few days she’d encountered ghosts, angels and a bomb. “Are you planning to kill me?” she asked.

  “No.” The woman seemed offended that Emily would think such a thing of her. “I just want you to take me to Mike so I can turn him over to the cops.”

  “But he’s your husband,” Emily said.

  “You ever live with a man who was nectar to every female under the age of ninety? Even little girls like him.”

  “They run to him and sit on his lap,” Emily murmured.

  “Right. Well, it got to me seein’ all the twenty-five-year-olds running to him, so to speak. It wasn’t the losers he killed, the world didn’t need the likes of them anyway, but I sure minded all those girls!”

  “Then he is a hit man? The FBI didn’t seem to be sure.”

  “Of course he is and they know it. Who do you think killed him? Or rather, tried to. I can tell you that I was shocked when I heard he was still alive. So, you ready to go?”

  Emily was caught off guard by the woman’s abrupt change of subject. “Go?”

  “Yeah. Let’s go get Mike and get this over with.”

  “Over with?” Even to Emily she sounded like a broken tape recorder, just repeating what she heard.

  “Look, honey, let’s get real. Who do you think turned him in in the first place? I got sick of him and his women so I told a few people where he was and they were real grateful, if you know what I mean.”

  Emily knew the woman had turned her husband in for money and now she wanted Emily to lead her to Michael so she could turn him in again. Would she be given a second reward?

  The woman misinterpreted Emily’s hesitation. “Look, maybe we can share this reward. You lead me to him and if I can take him with no trouble, I’ll give you twenty percent.”

  “Take him?”

  “Yeah, as in kill him,” the woman said as though Emily were a simpleton. “You wanta get rid of him, don’t you?” She narrowed her eyes and her hand tightened on the gun. “Or have you fallen for him? Maybe you really do believe he’s an angel.”

  “No…I…” A degree in library science didn’t prepare one for dealing with angry wives with guns. And it didn’t prepare one for making life and death decisions.

  “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

  “Yours,” Emily answered immediately while she tried to think of something to divert this woman. Could she persuade her to meet her somewhere neutral?

  “I think you better go with me. He at that house of yours?”

  “No, I think he went out with the boys. He likes football and video replays.”

  For a second the woman stared at Emily as though she’d lost her mind. “Mike? Like football? Like the boys?” The woman abruptly stood, her hand firmly on the gun as she pointed it toward Emily’s head. “All right I get it now. You’re a plain little librarian and you like the excitement of harboring a killer. It’ll probably be the only exciting thing that ever happens in your life.”

  “Of all the presumptuous things I’ve ever heard,” Emily said angrily, also rising, “that is the worst! Where do you get off thinking you know anything about my life? Just because I live in a small town doesn’t mean—”

  “Were you ladies looking for me?”

  They both turned to see Michael standing in the doorway, his hair rumpled as though he’d just been roused from sleep.

  “She has a gun!” Emily screamed as she made a leap toward the woman.

  But the gun went off before Emily could do anything and Michael was directly in the line of fire. She landed in a heap on the floor at the woman’s feet, then turned to look up at Michael as he reeled backward toward the doorway. For a moment he put his hand to his shoulder and Emily was sure he’d been hit, but the next moment he was standing upright and walking toward the woman.

  “I don’t think there’s any need for such violence,” he said softly, advancing toward her.

  “So what new act is this, Mike? Trying to impress the little girl? She’s not your usual type, is she? Or are you preying on innocents now that every bimbo in the country has been to bed with you?”

  Michael kept walking toward the woman, his hand outstretched. “I think you should give me the gun,” he said softy. “I don’t want you or Emily to be hurt.”

  “I’ll give you hurt,” she said, then lifted the gun slightly as she tried to pull the trigger. But Michael was too fast for her. Even as she watched from her place on the floor, Emily didn’t see him move. One minute he was standing on the far side of her office and the next he was in front of the woman and the gun was in his hand, not hers.

  “You bastard!” she shouted, then lunged at him. He caught her in his arms and held her tightly as she attacked him with her fists and her pointed shoes and her teeth.

  “Get out of here, Emily,” Michael said as the woman grabbed his hair then sank her teeth into his shoulder.

  Emily could tell that Michael was in pain and she looked about for something to hit the woman with so she’d stop her attack, but she saw nothing.

  “Go!” Michael ordered. “Now!”

  Emily didn’t hesitate again as she ran from the office into the dark library, then out the front door and into the night. As the cool air hit her she calmed down enough to think, What now? She couldn’t very well leave that woman with Michael, but then she couldn’t call the police either, could she?

  Before she could make a decision, the heavy door to the library burst open and the woman ran outside, past Emily without so much as a glance in her direction. Emily plastered herself against the wall, hoping the woman wouldn’t see her. She thought the woman no longer had the gun but she wasn’t sure.

  It wasn’t until Emily rounded the corner that indignation overcame her. The woman was carrying Emily’s handbag! Visions of credit cards and keys and the pillbox her father had given her danced before her eyes. Without thought, Emily started running after the woman.

  As Emily rounded the corner and saw that the woman was heading straight for Emily’s car and her keys were already in her hand, Emily shouted, “You’re not stealing my car,” then made a giant leap toward the woman.

  Later, Emily couldn’t remember clearly what happened next as everything seemed to happen at once. She leaped just as Michael appeared out of nowhere, grabbed her and threw her backward toward the building. Emily hit the outside wall of the library with a force that almost knocked her unconscious. Dazed, she looked up in time to see Michael running after the woman as she opened the car door and got inside.

  But
just as Michael reached the car, it seemed that the sky lit up and the world exploded. Emily put her arm over her eyes to protect them from the blast and turned her head toward the wall.

  In the next second she was on her feet and trying to run toward the blazing inferno that had once been her car. The last she had seen of Michael he’d had his hand on the car door.

  But Emily couldn’t get within ten feet of the blaze. There was the smell of gasoline and the fire was leaping high, up toward the trees. After several attempts to get near the burning car, she stepped back, her hand over her eyes, feeling her skin scorch from the heat.

  “Michael,” she managed to whisper as she stepped back.

  But as she reached the relative coolness of the library wall, her eyes barely adjusting to the brightness before her, she saw something move inside the fire.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered, feeling sick. “One of them is still alive.” She could not imagine the kind of agony a body must be going through to be alive inside such heat.

  But as she looked there seemed to be a column of light, a different kind of light from the red of the fire. The light she saw was golden and it looked as though it weighed a great deal, almost as though it were made of pure gold.

  With fascination, Emily watched the golden light with eyes wide open, and saw that it was growing. It went from just a thin column of light to larger, until it was the size of a human body. When the light was about six feet tall, she saw it move again, and it was moving toward her! She backed up against the wall, putting her hands up as though to protect herself.

  The golden column of light moved away from the burning car and when it was no more than a few feet from her, the light began to fall away, like the shell from an egg, and she could see Michael inside the light. Fascinated, she watched the light move down until Michael was standing before her, not a mark on his body, his clothes intact, not so much as a scorch mark on him.

  It was all too much for Emily, and she felt the blood drain from her as she began to faint. She was conscious just long enough to know that she didn’t hit the ground, for Michael’s strong arms caught her.

  Chapter 15

  SHE AWOKE IN A FRENZY OF TERROR AND WOULD HAVE started running if arms hadn’t held her back.

  “Be calm, Emily,” said a voice that had become familiar to her and, as she always did when Michael touched her, she quieted.

  “What happened?” she said as dreadful images filled her head and made her cling to Michael.

  She was across his lap, his arms cradling her, her head against his chest where she could feel his heart beating rapidly.

  “Emily,” he said softly, “I was so worried about you. I was so frightened.” His voice was so low she felt it more than heard him. “I was told that you were in danger but I was afraid I wouldn’t reach you in time.” He pulled her closer to him, so her mouth was against his neck. “I thought she might kill you. I wouldn’t want to hold your lifeless body,” he whispered, then moved her so he could look at her face.

  He didn’t have to tell her where they were for she knew. It was the tiny grove of trees that was sheltered and secluded and protected by the wood sprites—the place where they allowed no woman who was not fertile.

  “But you were the one in danger,” she said, looking up at him, feeling the skin of his neck so very near her lips.

  “No, I was never in danger. Now I realize I cannot be harmed until it is time for me to go. And I can’t go until I know that you’re safe.”

  As he held her and his energy calmed her more, she began to remember what she had seen. “You were killed, weren’t you? You were blown up by the explosion.”

  “This body was, yes. But such a small thing cannot hurt a spirit.”

  As conscious thought began to return to her, she pushed away so she could look at him. “You really are an…” She couldn’t seem to say the word.

  “An angel. Yes, Emily, I am. I have never lied to you. I was sent here to protect you and to find out the problem that surrounds you. I have always told you the truth.”

  She kept staring at him as he held her in his arms. “You were shot to death but you lived. Then you were blown into a thousand pieces but you lived through it.”

  “Yes,” he said quietly. “This body is only borrowed and it is protected as long as I need it.”

  “You’re not real,” she said and could feel panic rising in her throat. “You’re not a human being. You’re a…a monster. Like a werewolf or something else horrible. You’re—”

  She broke off because Michael kissed her. And he kissed her with all the passion that had been stored inside him for days, for years.

  And Emily responded in kind. She flung her arms about his neck and lost herself in his kiss, opening her mouth under his and giving herself to him.

  “I am all too real,” he said against her lips. “I am more real than anyone else you’ve ever known and I’ve loved you for centuries, Emily. For hundreds of years I have watched you throw away your kindness and love, your very goodness on men who weren’t worthy of the sight of you, while I have loved you every minute. I have wanted to know what it would feel like to hold you in my arms, to kiss your neck,” he said as his lips trailed hotly down her neck. “To kiss your eyes,” he said as his lips moved over her closed eyelids. “Your hair, your cheeks, your nose.”

  “Oh, Emily, I love you,” he said, pulling her close to him, so close she could hardly breathe. “I want you so much. I want you near me all the time. I have been your—”

  She didn’t want to hear another word he had to say. If he were going to be polite and ask her if he could make love to her, she might have the good sense to say no. She didn’t want good sense now, she wanted this man’s kisses and his hands and his skin against hers.

  She put her mouth on his, then opened her lips and let his tongue slide into her mouth. And after that there were no more words as his hands seemed to know what to do and how to do it. Expertly, he slid his hand under the loose tail of her baggy sweater, then his hand moved over the bare skin of her back to find her bra strap and undo it in one quick motion.

  When his hand moved to her breasts and his thumb touched her nipple, she thought her heart might stop. His hand closed over her breast and began to caress her in a way that no man ever before had.

  Emily’s experience in lovemaking was limited. The truth was that Donald had been her only partner and what she knew of sex she knew from him. In her own eyes, she had had a wonderful sex life, but Michael showed her differently.

  For one thing, he took his time. He removed her clothing with gentleness and wonder. The way he looked at Emily made her feel beautiful, as though she were unique of all the women on earth.

  “I have never seen anything on earth or in Heaven as beautiful as you, Emily,” he said when she was lying nude in his arms. “There is no angel to equal your beauty.”

  He kissed her body and caressed her until she was reaching for him, wanting him to take her.

  And when he did, it was with a tenderness that she had not known could exist. She could feel his love for her, feel his spirit touching hers as he caressed her and held her.

  Time, she thought, as he made love to her. Michael made her feel as though they had all eternity to touch each other, to look at each other and to experience love at its best. And he made their lovemaking seem magical, as though he had the knowledge of the ages at his disposal—which he did.

  As the night wore on, they made love in every way she’d ever dreamed of, and every movement with Michael was sensuous and loving. He made her feel that she was the most desirable woman in the world and that his only goal in life was to please her.

  “I love you, Emily,” he said again and again as he touched her in ways that she’d never dreamed of being touched. “I have watched you for years,” he murmured once, “and I hope I know what you like.” Closing her eyes, Emily imagined lovers in perfumed silk shirts, with feather beds beneath them.

  Reading her mind, Michae
l said, laughing, “I can give you feathers,” then Emily had the vision of great white wings surrounding them. They were encompassing and protective, but at the same time so very, very sexy. She was being made love to by an angel!

  Giggling, Emily buried her face in the feathers, then laughingly bit one. “Ow!” Michael said, so she bit again and the two of them went rolling about on the sweet-smelling grass.

  “What about them?” she asked, nodding her head toward the canopy of trees overhead. Michael knew she didn’t mean the trees, that she meant she wanted to see the wood sprites. Smiling, he rolled with her until she was on top of him, her bare legs against his white wings that were spread out on the ground, his naked body between her legs.

  Suddenly, the woods about them were transformed from being just an ordinary wood into a kingdom of magical beings. For just a flash of a second, she saw a tall, handsome, thin man floating in the air and smiling at her. He was surrounded by at least a dozen lovely young women—all thin, all draped in gauzy silks—and they were all smiling at her impishly as they hovered about in the soft, warm, evening air.

  “Oh my,” Emily said in awe when the vision had disappeared as quickly as it had come. “Is that what you see all the time?”

  “Mmmm,” he said, obviously not interested in the wood sprites that danced about them. “Emily, have you ever made love in a tree?”

  “Let me think,” she said, seeming to ponder the idea. “There was that time on the railroad tracks, but a tree? No, I don’t think so. But maybe I should reread my diary to make sure.”

  “Ha!” Michael said then scooped her into his arms and they were, well…if not actually flying, they were floating.

  “Wings?” she said, looking down at the ground which was now some distance beneath them.

  “Might as well get some use from the things. As it is they’re a bloody great nuisance. They’re hot, heavy and they itch.”

  Emily clung to him as they traveled upward. “But oh so divinely beautiful,” she said, kissing his mouth softly.

  “Then they’re worth it,” he answered, smiling back at her. “They’re worth any amount of discomfort to see you smile at me like that.”