The Saving Angels Series: Books 1-3

by Tiffany King

  I pulled into my usual parking spot behind the Book Nook where I work, and snatched up my backpack off the floor before I slammed the stubborn car door behind me.

  "Hey Krista, how are you doing this morning?" Joan, my boss, asked as I re-locked the staff door behind me.

  "Good Joan, how about you?"

  "Not bad. This past weekend's sales were fantastic, which means I can now afford our extravagant end of summer employee bash I have planned."

  "You mean for all three of us?" I joked, opening up a box of books the UPS guy had delivered while I was off over the weekend.

  "He-he, yeah and that's if Martha feels like going out after her normal six o'clock bedtime," Joan added laughingly, referring to the elderly woman who worked part-time on the weekend shifts with Joan.

  Martha was by far one of the most colorful people I had ever met, displaying a kind word for some, but having a bite to her for others, like her daughter for example. At seventy two years old, she only worked to get out of the house and away from her "crazy daughter"- her words not mine- that liked to drag her out for weekend excursions.

  "I'm seventy two. I've seen all the flea markets, garage sales, and overpriced shopping malls I want. I would rather spend my weekends surrounded by what I love the most," she had told me when I first met her, indicating the books around her.

  "Yeah, our big bash tonight will have to be the early bird special," I teased, breaking down the box I had just emptied.

  I tossed the flattened box aside and reached for the second box of books. I worked the edge of my thumbnail under the tape and grasped the lose piece I had worked away from the cardboard, pulling the rest of the tape off the top of the box. Joan preferred the boxes to be opened without a sharp box cutter and I completely agreed with her. The thought of accidently cutting into the beautiful spine of a brand new book made me just a little bit nauseous.

  I pulled the flaps of the box apart and sighed with pleasure when I saw the newest book by my most favorite author. I gently extracted one and gasped with pleasure at the lovely cover. I had already seen the picture on-line, but it just did not give the cover its due justice. Not being able to resist, I opened the book turning to the first page.

  "No way," Joan said, snatching the book out of my hands. "You know the rules. You can't start it without me," she said, lightly placing two of the books on her desk.

  "Aw man, no fair. You know you wouldn't even be reading this series if I hadn't pointed it out," I said, pretending to pout. In all honesty, I was completely psyched that she enjoyed the same books as me. Discussing the books and the characters in them had become a welcome distraction for me on the days I work, and I love when we playfully argue over who we thought was "crush worthy." I had chosen not to tell Joan anything about Mark, and I found it oddly refreshing to be around someone who just thought I was a regular teenager and not someone who had lost her very purpose in life. Pretending to crush on a hottie from a fiction book was a welcome distraction, though no matter how the author described the characters attributes, in my mind's eye, it was always Mark's face I saw.

  "Rules are rules," she said playfully as she punched the code into the mini-refrigerator sized safe that sat on the floor.

  She pulled the heavy metal door open, extracting the cash till for the register. "I'm going to go boot up the register and start the coffee maker. Do you need help with that?" she asked, indicating the last box of books on the floor.

  "Nah, I got it. You know me, I like to ogle at the covers before I place them in their new home," I said, docking my iPod onto the radio Joan kept in the stockroom.

  Joan smiled at me and headed out the door as the new Katy Perry song blared out of the mini speakers. Keeping music on when others were not around to distract me was a definite must.

  Bopping a bit to the music, I picked up the last heavy box of books off the floor and unpacked them onto the book cart with the others, sorting them by genres as I worked. When I started in June, Joan had allowed me to organize the books in the store in a more manageable system. It was a monster task, putting every book in appropriate genre sections, versus the standard alphabetical system Joan had used for years. All the hard work was well worth it though. Now when a customer has a specific book in mind, but can't remember the author or title, I can help without losing my mind.

  I finished unpacking the last book when my current favorite song started playing on my iPod. It was an older song that I had discovered by chance shortly after Mark left, and it was as if the singer knew every emotion I was feeling. I cranked up the volume and sank into the chair at the desk as the music filled my head. I knew I was a glutton for punishment for even listening to a country song about lost love, but I couldn't seem to help myself, something about the lyrics spoke to my now empty soul.

  Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to summon up Mark's image. I had once heard that when a person lost a loved one that they would often have difficulty recalling what they looked like as their mind began to distance itself. For me, it was the exact opposite. On the rare moments like these when I would allow myself to indulge in thinking about him, his image was so vibrant and strong, it was as if he was standing directly in front of me. I could see every hair on his head that I loved to run my fingers through, the sexy grin that melted me from the inside-out, and the sparkle in his eyes that made my whole body hum. It was on these occasions that a small ounce of hope would creep in. Surely, somewhere inside him, some of these same feelings for me still remained—or maybe I was wishing for the impossible.

  My chest began to heave as my emotions finally got the best of me. A lone silent tear welled up and escaped beneath my closed eyelid, followed by a cascade of tears streaming fast and warm down my cheeks.

  Pull it together Krista, I thought, trying to calm down.

  I knew I needed to get a grip on myself. Joan could walk in at any moment, and explaining my torrent of tears was just something I didn't relish doing. Of course, knowing I needed to get a grip and actually doing it were two different things, especially while sitting here listening to the words of this stink'n song…"You left me all alone in love, and now I desperately long to feel your touch."

  I need to stop torturing myself like this, I thought again.

  The song came to a close and I swiped the last of my tears away. Pushing the chair back, I stood up reaching to turn the volume back down so it was merely background noise. I turned around, intending to hit the bathroom to do damage control before Joan caught a glimpse of my swollen face.

  I gasped when I saw the tall imposing figure standing in front of me.

  "Holy crow Haniel, you scared the crap out of me!" I said, trying to calm my racing pulse.

  He raised his eyebrows at my words, but remained silent.

  "Well sheesh, if you don't want me to swear you need to stop sneaking up on me like that!" I said, embarrassed that he had most likely caught me crying. Like most things in life, crying in front of others had always embarrassed me, especially in the presence of someone like Haniel. Besides, girls that used their tears as a tool had always annoyed me, and I shuddered at the idea of being lumped together with them.

  "You are sad," Haniel said as more of a statement than a question.

  I sighed trying to think of how I would explain to someone outside the human realm that the music had initiated my tears.

  "The music just made me think about him," I said, deciding to give it to him bluntly.

  "I see. Well, music is a powerful force," he said, obviously understanding who him was.

  "Yep, it is," I said, thankful that he didn't push the matter further. "Why are you here? And how did you get in here without Joan seeing you?" I asked, puzzled that he had sought me out at work.

  He raised an eyebrow at me, which looked silly on him, but was something he and I had been working on to help him appear more humanistic, as Sam and I liked to put it. We had made it our pet project to give him lessons on hand gestures and facial expressions, which he was starting to
use appropriately. Joking, on the other hand, still fell flat with him, and Sam and I finally gave that one up as a lost cause.

  I knew Haniel only indulged in my efforts to modify him as a means to keep my mind occupied and keep me moving forward each day. He wasn't the only one though that worked to keep me busy. My friends were equally guilty with the activities they had implemented, like Sam's sudden fascination with rollerblading or Lynn's new fetish with the mom-and-pop music store we had discovered downtown. Every other day or so, Lynn would drag me there to listen to countless new and different artists, which ironically, was how I had stumbled onto the country song I had just cried my eyes out to. Shawn had even gotten into the action by deciding that it was almost sinful to live in California and not fly a kite at least once every couple of days. He now had a growing collection of brightly colored extravagant kites that he and I would fly on the beach when the wind was blowing at its most optimal condition.

  Even though their ploys were obvious, I was still grateful that they all cared so much that they would come up with ways to occupy me. I valued the alone time I got with each of them. Group outings were nonexistent now, and I knew it was because they didn't want me to feel like the odd man out. I appreciated their consideration though. Moving on was tough, and seeing my friends with their Links was painful, not because I was envious, but from the indescribable sorrow of losing Mark.

  I was a rarity, being the only Guide in over five hundred years that had survived the severed bond that my Protector and I had shared.

  "Ok, so, what are you doing here?" I asked, getting his silent message that as one of the most powerful Angels ever, he could go anywhere without being seen.

  "I feel we need to discuss the plans you have been making," he answered simply, not needing to clarify.

  I felt my knees give out from under me at his words as I sank into the chair. "I'm going after him Haniel. I have to." I whispered, not wanting Joan to hear me.

  "Why?" He asked.

  "Because I'm empty without him!" I said louder than I intended. "I have no purpose on earth with him gone," I added in a quieter voice.

  "Krista you're wrong. You don't yet understand the extent of your purpose. Your place on earth surpasses any soul that has ever crossed my path," Haniel replied.

  "Can't you understand how it feels Haniel, loving someone that no longer loves you back? I have to know why." I said dejectedly, knowing an Archangel couldn't possibly understand what I was talking about.

  Much to my surprise, Haniel simply nodded at my words.

  "Does that mean we can go?" I asked, not daring to believe.

  "Yes Krista, we can go, but it will be on my terms, with stipulations of course," Haniel stated.

  Chapter 2

  "Like what?" I asked, not really caring what kind of stipulations he had. I would walk barefoot across broken glass for the chance to see Mark one last time. If his soul was indeed gone, all my plans would be dashed, but if it was just buried, I could use my gifts to save him. My fear though, was that even if his soul was savable, it might not change how he felt about me. I just wanted to try. Even if only to keep Mark from turning out like his father. If I could set his soul free it would be worth it, even if it meant I would have to live without him.

  "I will explain it all when we join the others," he said. "You need to come with me now."

  "Haniel I can't leave now. Joan needs my help today stocking the new books in," I said, indicating the cart of books I had loaded up.

  "I will take care of your boss."

  "Oh no, you're not going to do the mind-melt stuff on her, are you?" I asked, feeling terrible about the idea of manipulating poor Joan.

  "Krista, do you want to go after Mark or not?" Haniel asked.

  His point was clear. Why the heck was I worrying about a temporary mind lapse when we were finally setting a plan in motion? Priorities Krista, priorities, I silently reminded myself.

  "Do I need to go check in with her?" I asked, unsure of what exactly he had planned for Joan's mind to believe.

  "There is no need for that. She will have no recollection that you were here today. As far as she knows, you stopped working here last week. She will be under the assumption that you are on your way to your next learning establishment."

  "So, I don't even get to say goodbye?" I asked sadly, glancing toward the door.

  "Time is critical and goodbyes must be put aside," he said. "I will meet you at the dwelling of your friends," he added, exiting the stockroom through the swinging door that separated the sales floor from the stockroom.

  I glanced toward the doors one last time, regretful that I couldn't say goodbye to my new friend, but I was suddenly anxious to leave and start what I had been waiting two months for. I scooped up my backpack along with one of the novels Joan had set aside on her desk. I had already prepaid for it, but for some reason I still felt a little guilty as I shoved it into my bag. I was halfway toward the stockroom door when I remembered my iPod that was still on the docking station. Rushing back to the desk, I grabbed it and hurried out of the stockroom, locking the door behind me. I would have to remember to drop my key in the mail so that Joan could give it to the summer help next year, I thought as I started up my mom's Focus.

  My nerves kicked into high gear as I navigated the streets. Haniel had mentioned "stipulations," and though I curious on what that might mean, nothing could stop the adrenaline that rushed through my veins. I wanted to go now, this instant.

  The scenery passed by in a blur in what seemed like the longest drive ever, until I finally pulled into the apartment complex my friends were sharing. The exterior of the complex was older and a bit dated, but the management at least did a good job at keeping up with the grounds and such. The inside had been renovated in the last few years so each rental was updated with new appliances, carpeting, and bathroom fixtures. The space was half the size of Mark's house, but was all we could afford by pooling our money together.

  I used my key to let myself in to find my motley group of friends already assembled and waiting for me with Haniel.

  "I thought you two worked today," I asked Sam and Robert as I plopped down on the second-hand sofa next to Sam.

  "We did, but Haniel caught us in the parking lot of Pizza Pete's after he came to see you," Sam said, smiling at me as she reached over to grasp my hand in hers.

  I felt the calming affects of her touch instantaneously as my frazzled nerves began to calm down. My extended family was well aware of the fact that I had been waiting for this moment, and they also knew exactly how I was feeling. They had all grieved over Mark's betrayal of our group, but had remained stoically supportive of any decision I made.

  "I have agreed to assist Krista with a rescue mission," Haniel said, answering the question of why we were all gathered here.

  I smiled in relief, but I didn't even need to use my ability to read emotions to see the mixed feelings coming from my friends. It was obvious from the looks on their faces. Shawn's emotions were the strongest, running the gambit between angst to concern for me. I knew he missed his best friend, but I also felt his stubborn determination to stop Mark at all costs if he had turned dark like his father. That was Mark's biggest fear when we were together. He had confided his disgust regarding his father's blatant disregard for the sacredness of human life to Shawn and me. I just hope I'm not making a huge mistake and that he still feels that way now.

  "With stipulations," Haniel continued, breaking into my thoughts.

  "What kind of stipulations?" I asked apprehensively.

  "You will not be alone on your quest. The other active bands will join you, as will I."

  "What?" Sam asked incredulously. "I thought the livelihood of humanity will be put at risk if you were to help fight with us."

  "The agreement has already been breached. Victor would not have been able to control and dominate so many Daemons without the direct help of The Dark One. The Light has given me the authority to make whatever decisions are necessary. V
ictor has been hard at work rebuilding his army, and his forces have grown."

  "So, you're telling us that the battle we endured two months ago was like a chess match?" Robert asked.

  "Chess match?" Haniel asked puzzled.

  "Like a game," Sam said, trying to explain Robert's analogy.

  "Ah, yes. Victor orchestrated every aspect of the last meeting. All except one," he said, looking at me pointedly.

  I blushed at Haniel's words. My friends had been awestruck at the power I was able to emit that saved us all that night. Haniel had told me weeks later that in all his years training Guides, he had never seen any stop so many Daemons at once. I knew he believed it was because I was special, but in all actuality, I knew it was something else. When Victor had stripped everything from me, something inside of me snapped and I was able to somehow harness all my power and use it against the Daemons we faced. I wasn't anything special, unless you counted the fact that I was the only Guide that had survived the separation from their Protector, and I wasn't sure if that could be counted as a virtue or a serious character flaw.

  I pulled away from my errant thoughts when Haniel continued. "Krista, you are allowed to accompany us on our journey, but are instructed to stay behind in the camp when we move forward."

  "Are you kidding me? No way, I'm not staying behind…"

  Haniel raised his hand, cutting off my rant. "Then you stay here," he stated, leaving no room for argument. "The Dark One will be able to use your vulnerability against you with those he has turned," he added, making his implication clear. If Mark had indeed embraced his father's dark side, he could use it against me. It seemed surreal to think that Mark would use my love and the bond we had shared against me, but I knew it was a distinct possibility. Haniel had told me not long after Mark had left me, the exact circumstances that had transpired when Victor had changed. How he had turned the love of Mark's mother against her. I knew that if Mark was forever lost, he could kill me as easily as his father had killed his mom.