Angel Dreams (An Angel Falls Book 2)

by Jody A. Kessler

  Nathaniel is strong and gentle and urgent and tender. I send out a silent prayer to Father Time to let this perfect moment last forever. How did I not know kissing could be like this?

  He moves to my throat and I whimper as he sucks gently on my oh-so sensitive skin. My hands find the planes of his chest and linger there relishing the smooth muscles.

  Suddenly, cool air rushes over my body. The abrupt absence of his warmth is worse than the time I jumped in a frozen lake. My eyelids flutter open and focus on the azure blue sky overhead. Slowly, I look around. He’s not far away, only leaning on an elbow next to me.

  “Don’t hate me.”

  “Wha,” I try, but find my voice uncooperative, melted honey seems to have replaced my tongue and throat. “I don’t hate you,” I manage. “In fact, it’s the exact opposite. I even forgive you for what you said about Chris.” I sigh deep in my chest and relax back against the ground and close my eyes again, holding onto the leftover pulsing deep in my abdomen.

  “You said slow.”

  “Uh-huh. I did, and now I hate myself for it.”

  “That isn’t entirely why I had to stop.”

  Silence fills the brief space as he pauses. I’ve never felt more relaxed in my entire life than right now, I think, as I absorb the warmth of the sun while drinking in his perfect scent and listening to his purring voice mixed with the quaking chatter of nearby aspen leaves.

  “I have to leave soon. I wish I didn’t, but it’s my client.”

  “Really, that’s too bad.” His statement doesn’t register. The kisses. His touch. The warmth from the sun. His husky voice adds kindling to the burning fire in my belly and tickles the entire length of my spine. At this point I’ll say anything to keep him talking.

  “So you’re not mad?”

  “Mmmh-hmm.”

  “I want to take you back down the mountain before I go.”

  “Go, why?” Now things are sinking in.

  “Juliana, I want to stay. You have no idea how bad I want to be here with you, but I have been feeling the pull since your friend Chris was here. I need to check on her.”

  Turning my head to the side, away from Nathaniel, I open my eyes as if looking away will change what he just said. A floating ball of light hovers just above the blades of grass on the opposite side of the pool. It shimmers for a second and then disappears. I push myself up. Moving steals all but the faintest trace of the effervescence that had been flowing through my blood.

  “Did you…” I turn my head slowly back toward Nathaniel. My eyes linger on the spot for any possibility of another glimpse. He nods yes before I finish the question.

  “They’re guardians and helpers,” he whispers.

  “Like you,” I whisper back.

  This time he shakes his head no. “Different job description. She’s probably here to protect the water.”

  I nod like I understand even though I don’t totally, and being that the fairy is already gone, I go back to the previous subject. “It’s fine. We should go. Someone’s life is at stake, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “What do you mean by ‘feeling the pull?’ ” I ask, as I stretch my arms over my head and realize my perfect moment is slipping away.

  Nathaniel glances away from me and I notice a slight crease form between his brows before he answers. “When I’m needed, for my work, I feel it tugging at me. It makes me anxious. I have the choice to respond, but it’s difficult to ignore.”

  “And then you just know where to go?”

  “Sort of. I have to think about the person and want to go to them and then I move without any effort.”

  Starting to stand up, I change my mind and roll to my knees. I lean over to the water while I ask another question. “Does the pull on you vary by the situation or the person involved?”

  “Both. Last night when you called my name, I knew you were not in danger, but I could feel the connection to you. My current case doesn’t know I’m around, but I think it’s urgent I find her.”

  Inspecting my torn finger, I had all but forgotten about it as I played with Nathan’s chest and back. It’s leaking blood again. Darting a glance over at his shirt I can see where drops and smears of blood mark the places where my hand had been. I grimace at what I’ve done. “Umm…”

  “What?” The concern on his face as he watches mine is almost comical. He looks as if I just told him someone died.

  Embarrassment flushes my pale skin, but I can’t let him leave with streaks of blood on his sweatshirt. “My finger,” I lift it up to show the ragged side. “I’m sorry. It’s your shirt.” I point at the mess I’ve made.

  Relaxing visibly, Nathaniel looks down at his chest, particularly focusing on the area of his left nipple, where a dark rusty spot is. “Battle wounds. No worries.” He closes his eyes for a second appearing to concentrate, but then opens them and turns those smoky gray eyes on me with a small mischievous smile. “I think I’ll keep them. As a reminder.”

  “No. It’s sort of gross,” I say.

  “No one will see it,” he argues, “and then I can see exactly where your hands have been.”

  “No one will see it except for me,” I correct.

  “Ashamed of what you’ve been up to?”

  I imagine the color in my cheeks blooming from rose to puce. Involuntarily, my gaze flicks down the front of his shirt to the hemline right below his belt and then back up to his face in time to see his small smile turn into a huge grin. There’s a smear of dried blood near the lowest part of his shirt. Remembering the feel of his taut stomach sends another wave of heat to my face. What’s worse than puce? Purple? I try to conceal my embarrassment by letting my hair fall forward. I hate that my fair skin gives me away so easily. I answer as defiantly as possible, “No,” and then dip my hand in the water washing away the drying blood.

  “If I could see all of the places on you where I’ve touched, it would make me happy. Like marking my territory.”

  He sounds so pleased with this idea that I roll my eyes. “Guys, I swear. You’re like dogs. Now I know where that term came from.”

  “Do you want me to change my shirt?”

  “Yes,” I say to the water. “I really don’t want to see my blood.”

  “No problem,” he answers and I hear the rustle of him moving behind me.

  With my hand as clean as possible, I stand up and turn around. Nathaniel leans against a tree trunk. The sweatshirt he had been wearing is now replaced with a plain white T-shirt. He looks down the length of my body and then back up again.

  I should start wearing blush, then my cheeks would look the same all the time. “How did you do that?” I ask while assessing Nathaniel in his new shirt while ignoring the heat in my face.

  “I can dress however you want, m’lady.”

  “Wish it was that easy for me,” I say looking at my own grungy jeans and camp-smoked shirt.

  “You’re beautiful in anything.”

  I swear he knows how to tickle the inside of my ear with his voice. It isn’t fair. He reaches for my left hand and we start to leave Earth’s Heart Spring behind. A few steps away from the spring and a flash of sparkling light catches my attention. Thinking the fairy had returned, I stop to get a better look. Lying in the grass, reflecting the sun’s rays, is Chris Abeyta’s bottle of spring water. I bend down and pick it up, noticing the prairie dog hole in the ground next to it. It must have fallen out of his pocket when he tripped. Nathan looks down at my hand but says nothing about it.

  “I can make it back down the mountain by myself if you need to go,” I tell him as I become aware of the shift in the energy around him.

  “Something is happening, but no, I’ll wait until after you’re back to your car.”

  He’s so definite about his decision I know no argument will make a difference. I can tell he’s anxious so I decide to speed up our pace.

  At the edge of the aspen grove I spot a plant that will help my sore finger. I lead us in the directi
on, and as we pass the wild rose bushes I pick one of the pink blooms, being careful to preserve the petals. Handing the bottle of water over to Nathaniel I ask, “Could you hold this for a sec?” He takes it and watches as I walk and administer first aid to my finger at the same time. I pluck one petal at a time and lay them over the cut on the side of my finger until I have a tidy rose petal bandage.

  “Will it really help, or does it just smell nice?”

  “It’s feeling better already,” I say, and take the spring water back from him.

  “I’m glad you know how to fix yourself. You seem to be accident prone.”

  “I am not,” I defend, but as soon as it’s out of my mouth I know it’s not entirely true.

  Nathaniel cocks an eyebrow.

  Arguing my case, I say, “I’m easily distracted is all. I never have an accident when I’m paying attention.”

  He laughs, the sound is deep and velvet soft. “I think that’s true for ninety percent of the world’s population. All I’m saying is I get some relief knowing you can mend yourself.”

  “I love plants and what they can do to heal the body, but I really don’t know much compared to what my grandmother knows.”

  “Don’t underestimate yourself. I bet you know more than you realize. I had no idea you could put wild roses on a cut. Or that other stuff, the devil’s hammer, whatever it’s for.”

  “Devil’s club,” I correct. “Every plant in the world has a use to the human body because we are all made out of the same elements. You only have to know what to use it for. Memorizing everything is the hard part.”

  “So do you think there are plants that will affect me?” he asks as we pass around a spruce trunk the size of six people standing hand to hand.

  “You know, I don’t know. You’re a spirit so I would say yes. Certain plants have an effect on the spirit, but that’s when the spirit is inside a body, so I guess I don’t know.”

  “I think we’ll have to find out some time. You can experiment on me. Sounds good?”

  “Okay,” I agree with a smile. Suddenly aware of a change in the air, I say, “Hey, what’s that noise?”

  Chapter Four: Call to Action

  Nathaniel

  “Stay here,” I tell Juliana.

  “No way,” she says, shaking her head at me.

  “I’ll be right back. I move faster than you, and I’m invisible, remember? Just stay back for a second.”

  Juliana presses her lips together in silent resignation as I disappear through the trees to see what, or who, is making the noise. On the other side of the narrow road, in a clearing, I see a handful of Harley Davidson motorcycles and find the source of the racket.

  An engine rumbles as five bikers clad in an overabundance of leather argue over a deer carcass. No, not a carcass, the deer’s alive, albeit not for much longer. Its panicked shallow breaths and inability to stand are a bad sign, but the tall, thin biker pointing a handgun at it is a clear indicator that its life is coming to an abrupt end.

  “Shut up, Butch!” the man with the gun yells.

  “You’re a stool,” Butch, a paunchy man with an excessive amount of black hair, grumbles back.

  “Toad, or bar?” the gunman asks straight faced.

  “Neither,” Butch rasps. “A shit. You’re a fat smelly shit.”

  “I’d watch who you’re callin’ fat and smelly.”

  Bang! Gunman pulls the trigger. The other three men watch unmoved, but Butch frowns through his bushy beard. The deer’s suffering ends and the tall man glances away.

  I would have left the five bikers behind and gone straight back to Juliana, except, she finds me first. Well not me, exactly.

  “What are you doing? You can’t shoot a deer this time of year!”

  Six pairs of eyes turn on Juliana as she streaks out of the woods screaming. Her cheeks are flaming and she’s brandishing the bottle of water like a club. I’m not sure what is going on in that pretty head of hers, but I’m in no way capable of understanding a woman on a mission.

  “What did the deer do to you!” she screeches like a hysterical bat.

  It would have been funny in any other circumstances, and I think two or three of the burly riders are thinking the exact same thing, but the one with the gun is not laughing, and neither am I.

  “Whoa there, little lady,” the tall blonde man with the gun starts to say, but he gets cut off by one of his bandana wearing cronies.

  “Hey Eli, tell her why you just blew Bambi’s brains out.”

  Eli glares over at the man and then turns his attention back to Juliana as if he might explain what has just happened. I can see something flickering behind his easy eyes and I would guess he’s not an immediate threat, except for the gun he’s holding. I move into the trees as fast as I can, so I don’t suddenly appear out of thin air, and then I’m running back to Jules.

  “You’re not going to get away with this! Do you know the penalties for hunting off season?”

  Juliana moves toward the motorcycles, looking at their back ends, for license plates, I would guess. The men all watch her and don’t see me coming. Before I can catch up with her the hefty one named Butch snags Juliana around the waist and pulls her up next to him. She looks like a rag doll under his arm.

  “What do you think you’re doing! Let me go,” she shrieks.

  “Listen girl. Stay away from my ride.”

  “Put her down, Butch. It’s a simple misunderstanding,” Eli says.

  “Juliana.”

  The group turns to glare at me in unison. I notice there’s no shortage of hair or black leather among them. I also notice hands reaching for unseen weapons as I rush over to her.

  She’s pale, more than normal, and I think she just realized she’s one woman against five gnarly bikers. Butch backs up with Juliana under his arm. His glower warning me that he doesn’t have to let her go and nobody can stop him. It would be true, if I were a regular human.

  “Let the girl go. She loves animals. It isn’t her fault,” I say.

  “Meddlesome bizzie is what she is. No sense at all under all that hair.”

  Butch has a raspy gruff voice and I can see the game he’s playing. I don’t think he is going to hurt her, at least not intentionally, but Juliana’s waist looks as if she’s being cinched in the middle.

  I hold my hands up in mock surrender. “Get your hands off of her and we’ll leave. No harm, no foul.”

  “Like hell. You can’t just shoot anything in the woods because you feel like it. They have to pay for this. Look at her, she was nursing.”

  The three others behind us snigger at this and start to move toward their motorcycles as if the excitement were already over.

  I look at the exposed underside of the doe and sure enough you can see the doe was still nursing. Anger wells up inside me, but as I see the large tears forming in Jules’s green eyes I almost lose all control.

  “Juliana,” I attempt to warn her with a single word and a strong look. She frowns deeper at me and narrows her eyes. She’s fighting anger too.

  “Butch, is that your name? Put her down and we’ll all put this behind us. I saw what happened and no one’s to blame.”

  “You spyin’ on us, boy?”

  Butch’s arm squeezes harder around Juliana and I see her grimace.

  “I heard the noise and came to see what was going on.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I look over to my left to make sure Eli is not advancing on me. He looks about as intolerant with this situation as I feel.

  “Butch, quit playing around. We need to get out of here.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who had to stop in the first place. Damn nature lovers,” Butch spits out. He lifts Juliana even higher and plants a hairy kiss on her face. I think he was going for her mouth but Jules is struggling so much it landed on her cheek. “You sure are a pretty one though. One for the road, doll.”

  I move in to take Juliana by force but the biker places her roughly on her feet and shoves he
r over to me before I can grab him. Juliana lands heavily in my arms. Before I can get a decent grip on her, she whirls around and tries to go straight back for Butch, her claws extended and her intent to damage him obvious. I stop her.

  “Ahh spunky.” Butch’s belly jiggles in a silent laugh as he turns for his bike.

  “Let’s go. Now!” I pick Juliana up and carry her far away from the bikers as fast as I can.

  I hear Eli say behind us, “I have to take care of her before we go.”

  I hope he’s referring to the deer.

  When we’re a safe distance away I set Juliana down and shake my head in disbelief. I look to the sky for staying power, patience, understanding, or anything that will keep my anger in check.

  “He murdered that deer. How can you let them go? They have to be turned in.”

  “Unbelievable. Did you even stop to think for one second? You’re still upset about the deer? Not the fact that you could have gotten yourself killed.”

  “What? Poacher’s get away with murder. Who’s going to stand up for the deer if I don’t do it? Hmm, who?” She sounds irate, but her voice breaks slightly on the last words.

  “You’re serious aren’t you?”

  Juliana turns her back to me. I walk around to face her. She’s hiding to the best of her ability under her hair again.

  “Jules, you could have…” I start to say, but can’t finish. Fear for her, and because I don’t want to upset her further, stops me. She peeks at me through her hair and I see the tears in her eyes. It breaks me, and all my anger dissipates like evaporating steam. I engulf her with my body, wrapping my arms around her, and cup the back of her head in my hand.

  “The deer. It’s awful,” she chokes. “I’m sorry. I know it’s silly, but I can’t help it.”

  “It’s okay.” I hold her close and let all the strain, and stress, and tension drain out of us both. When she stops shaking, I ask, “Juliana, when someone has a gun, could you—”

  “I know,” she interrupts. “I’m not smart.” Her voice sounds stronger now, almost normal.

  “I didn’t know you were so fearless,” I say.