by Karen Kelley
A stranger?
There he went, thinking about her again. Raine was like all the rest. The concern and worry had been from her near death experience, not because he was shot. If he hadn’t pushed her out of the way, she’d be six feet under. That was why she’d hovered over him. She felt guilty.
He made a concentrated effort to put her out of his mind, and wiggled his thumb again. He should pay more attention to what he was doing and stop thinking about mortals. They always got him into more trouble than they were worth.
“Maybe you should use that hammer on your head,” a deep voice spoke from behind him.
Dillon swung around, blinking from the sudden glare of bright light. It took a moment for the glowing image to come into focus and the brightness to fade.
A man sat on a pure white horse. The saddle was white and trimmed in silver, as was the bridle. He wore a white hat, white shirt, white jeans, and white chaps; even his boots were white. He didn’t look at Dillon but rather the countryside as he drew in a deep breath of air. “I love the country,” he said.
“Who are you?” Dillon asked with more than a touch of suspicion. A demon in disguise? He braced himself. Kicking a demon’s ass sounded pretty good right now.
The man stared. Dillon took a step back, gut twisting. I know him! It was a gut feeling, nothing else.
“I’m your father Tobiah,” he said.
Shock ran through him, but quickly died. He was surprised, that was all. My father. The words kept repeating inside his head, but the connection wasn’t there. He’d never even met the man.
When Dillon was a kid he dreamed of coming face-to- face with his father, the angel who sired him. But as time passed, he grew tired of dreaming and he stopped wondering and waiting.
And he didn’t care now. He strode to where his hammer lay and picked it up. “I have a father? I would never have guessed.”
He marched past Tobiah and began the journey back to the cabin. He didn’t say a word for the next mile, but he could hear the steady clop-clop of his father’s horse following him.
What did the angel want? Dillon doubted Tobiah suddenly had a yearning to meet his son. Too much time stood between them. Sure, he knew Tobiah had authority over him and, when he went too far, the angel would block Dillon’s powers. That was the only time he knew Tobiah existed.
And when Dillon needed his father most, Tobiah hadn’t been there. It was the same for the other nephilim.
Until recently.
Chance met his father. The angel saved his life.
Ryder’s father almost fried his son with a lightning bolt. Yeah, that was a heartwarming reunion. They hadn’t actually met, but that was the closest Ryder came to seeing him.
Now Tobiah showed up. Why?
The steady clop-clop continued. The sound was getting on his nerves. He should’ve ridden his horse, but this morning when he started out, Dillon hoped the walk would blow off some of the energy inside him. It hadn’t. Pounding on posts most of the day didn’t make much of a difference either. Raine was in his thoughts the entire time.
Still the steady clop-clop was behind him. His mood didn’t improve by the time he stopped in front of the tool shed. If anything, he was more pissed. He unlatched the door and swung it open so hard that when it hit the building, the top hinge popped loose and the door dropped down like an arthritic old man.
Something else for him to fix. He tossed the hammer and leather tool belt into the shed and swung around.
Tobiah sat on his horse, leaning against the saddle horn as casual and unconcerned as though they knew each other well and he was there for a visit. The fury inside Dillon exploded.
“Why now? Just answer me that. Why not after I ran away from home? I was eleven years old and alone. I called out to you. Where were you then?” Time passed; he should’ve been over the rejection. He thought he was, but apparently it had only been dormant, waiting for this moment.
Dillon always felt as though pieces were missing from his life.
After his mother died in an accident, his jealous aunt raised him.
Once she found out an angel chose her younger sister rather than her, his life became a nightmare. So he ran away.
He met his father’s unwavering gaze and asked again, “Where were you when I needed you most?”
“I was nearby, watching over you.”
“You saw my pain, and still chose to let me suffer? Angels are supposed to protect the innocent, not toss them out to fend
for themselves.”
“You were never alone. I protected you the best way I could, by helping you learn how to survive.”
Pain gripped him. “Some nephilim didn’t survive the demon warriors who hunted them.”
“Yes,” Tobiah agreed. “They came home. Their souls were never in jeopardy.”
“In other words, you let them die. Would you have let me die too?”
“Your existence wasn’t my choice to make.”
“Yet, you’re my father. What? Did you see my mother and decide to sleep with her because you were bored? A mortal would never be able to resist your charms. You took what you wanted, then walked away without giving a damn about what might happen to her.”
A dark light shone in Tobiah’s eyes, telling Dillon he pushed too hard, but he didn’t care. He wanted his father to feel some measure of the ache Dillon carried every day. As quickly as Tobiah’s anger flared, it died.
“I loved your mother very much.”
He didn’t really care what Tobiah felt. “Why have you waited so long to show yourself?”
Tobiah’s smile was gentle. “Hours and seconds pass differently for us. A day is but a speck of time.”
“Why are you here?”
“Along with immortality, the nephilim inherited certain abilities. The angels look the other way when you bend the rules.
There is more good inside our children than bad.”
Dillon cocked an eyebrow. “Are you reprimanding me for something? You may be watching over me, but I think I’m a little old to scold.” He snorted. “You might have fathered me, but you lost the right to tell me what to do. Time might not mean much to you, but it damn well did to me when I was a kid. I don’t care what your reasons were for sleeping with my mother and creating a child, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re a sperm donor, nothing more.”
He turned to walk away, but his feet suddenly went out from under him and his ass landed with a thud on the hard-packed ground. For a moment, he sat there in stunned silence, then slowly came to his feet, brushing off the dirt. He faced Tobiah.
“You want to fight, then fight like a man.” He raised his fists, ready to relieve years of frustration.
Tobiah merely smiled, then glanced up at the sky. Dillon waited for him to get off the horse and take him up on the challenge. So what if Tobiah won; Dillon would still feel a hell of a lot better. Except Tobiah still looked at the sky. Dillon wondered what game he played. He finally lowered his fists and looked up.
A dark cloud hovered above him. What the hell? It burst open, pouring buckets of ice-cold water on top of his head. He jumped back, but he was already soaked. Deep, rumbling laughter followed.
“You think that’s funny?” he yelled. He doubled his fists.
“That’s what I like about the nephilim. You have the ability to feel so much emotion. You know how to live.”
“Step off your horse and I’ll show you how we fight, too!”
“I can’t stay. Unfortunately, we have strict rules that must be obeyed.” He suddenly smiled and Dillon felt as though he watched a commercial for whitening toothpaste. “You should meet my boss.”
Dillon couldn’t stop the disappointment flowing through him. He shouldn’t let the guy get under his skin. Even as he tried to tell himself that, he still wanted to know more about him.
“Then why are you here?”
“Raine McCandless.”
He only thought the rain was cold as an arctic blast shot through his veins. T
obiah’s words froze him in place. “What about her? She’s okay, isn’t she?”
“You changed her fate.”
“I kept her from dying. What was I supposed to do? Let her get shot?”
He shook his head. “She wouldn’t have died.”
Dillon’s eyes narrowed. “I felt pain in my chest.”
“You warned her. She isn’t stupid. She wore her vest. The bullet wouldn’t have killed her, only knocked her down from the force. She would have captured the bank robbers and been lauded as saving the day. You took all that away.”
He squared his shoulders. “Okay, so either way, she wouldn’t have died. The outcome is the same.”
“Not quite.”
“What do you mean?”
When she hit her head, the blow momentarily stunned her.
The bank robbers escaped. She saw you lying on the floor with blood pouring from your chest and called for help. She told them a man was shot. When they asked who the man was, she was still feeling the effects of her injury and told them an angel saved her. When no one could find the angel, people began to question if it was all an elaborate hoax. They wondered if Raine and her grandfather had planned everything. Her grandfather is close to financial ruin, after all.”
“That’s bull and they should know it. Raine and her grandfather would never rob the bank.”
“We know that, but the people living in town don’t. She was forced into taking a temporary leave of absence until the case can be investigated.”
“It’ll blow over. Everyone will realize their assumptions are ridiculous.” He stared at his father and saw a flicker of something he couldn’t name. Regret, maybe? Then everything came together and Dillon understood what his father wasn’t telling him. “You know what’s going to happen, don’t you?”
“The investigation will go against Raine and her grandfather.
They’ll be arrested. Her grandfather’s heart won’t be able to take the stress and he’ll have a heart attack and die. Raine will be found guilty and sent to prison, where she will die. Other lives they touched will suffer.”
Frustration filled him. “I was answering an old man’s prayer.
What was I supposed to do? I thought she was going to be killed.”
He wouldn’t have done anything differently. He had to warn
Raine about the robbery. Before Tobiah could say anything, Dillon continued. “Why didn’t he ask for my help when they became suspects?”
“He did, but you blocked his prayers.”
“And Raine?”
His father grimaced, but his expression changed so fast,
Dillon wondered if he might have been mistaken.
Tobiah’s eyes softened. “Go to her, my son. She needs your help. Be gentle with her.”
Why did he feel there was something Tobiah wasn’t telling him? Before he could ask, a blinding light surrounded him, then in a flash, the brightness was gone and Dillon was alone.
But not for long. Raine needed him.
Chapter 8
Raine’s head pounded worse than hail hitting a tin roof. She reached up and ran her hand across her forehead. When her fingers brushed near her ear, she flinched. Her head was still tender. Doc had run some tests but they were negative. She had a feeling stress played a major role in why she had a headache. She hadn’t been sleeping well since the night of the robbery.
Sitting at the sheriff’s office most of the afternoon was not helping to get rid of the pain. What was taking the sheriff so long?
He’d told her to be there around noon. She looked at the clock on his wall. It was fifteen after.
She felt as though she was living in a damn bubble and any moment it was going to pop. They still had her on a leave of absence until they finished with their investigation. Not working was driving her up a wall.
Her gaze roamed around his office— again— looking at the same travel posters that had been there since Sheriff Barnes took office: Rome, Paris, Venice, Switzerland. All the places he said he would go someday. That day hadn’t come yet. He once told her people either had time or they had money. He’d laughed and said he had neither. That made two of them.
And now she might soon be doing time for a crime she didn’t commit. No, if Sheriff Barnes thought she was guilty, she would already be sitting in jail. This was normal procedure. If she hadn’t mentioned an angel she probably wouldn’t be here.
Was she crazy? Had she only imagined a man getting shot?
No, he’d felt real. He’d kissed real. Warmth spread over her. She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them. She’d only kissed him because she thought he was dying and that was his last wish.
He wasn’t an angel, he was a manipulator. Dillon convinced Grandpa he was an angel. Maybe Dillon was the crazy one and really believed he was an angel. That would explain why he attempted to save her life. She sighed with frustration. But it didn’t explain where he’d gone after being shot.
She came to her feet, legs cramping. She was tired of thinking and wanted to go home. Except no one was home. Grandpa was staying with Tilly so he would be nearby in case they wanted to question him. It was suggested they only have supervised contact.
Were they afraid she and Grandpa would make a run for the border?
How could they be suspects? She shook her head. This all seemed unreal.
Tilly would make sure Grandpa was taken care of. Him and his new stray. It was a good thing Tilly had a fenced yard. She should be grateful Sheriff Barnes was giving them that much.
He’d promised the informal investigation would only take a few days.
Her lip curled. Ethan was pushing for a trip to the mental ward so Grandpa could be watched. He said Grandpa was unstable. He was one to talk. Ethan might be lead deputy but he wasn’t sheriff. The sheriff would never go for that. Grandpa was the main reason he won the election.
That might not mean a thing to him now. Sheriff Barnes had what he wanted and would probably keep getting elected until he decided to retire. She twined her fingers together. But the sheriff agreed with Ethan that Grandpa needed to stay nearby. What was going through the sheriff’s mind? Did he think she was the mastermind? That Grandpa would be safer with Tilly? A sob tore from her throat as tears welled in her eyes.
Great, the last thing she needed was someone to walk in and
see her crying. She rarely cried. Stay strong, stay in charge, that was her motto. Tears were a luxury she couldn’t afford. Besides, it would be damned embarrassing. She turned toward the desk to grab some tissues out of the box and ran into a hard chest. Strong arms steadied her.
“Ow.” She rubbed her nose. Her eyes watered more. Where
the hell had he come from? Her eyes traveled up. She blinked, her vision blurry. It couldn’t be. She scrubbed the backs of her hands over her eyes. But it was.
Dillon! Anger boiled inside her. He was the reason she was in this mess. “You! What are you doing here?” She must have really been lost in thought not to hear him enter the room.
He frowned. When people frowned they usually didn’t look their best, but not this guy. A frown looked way too sexy on him. That pissed her off even more. He had no right to look that damned good when she was such a mess.
“I’m here to help,” he said. “I’ll make everything right.”
“Good, you can tell them you were the one shot when the bank was robbed, then maybe everyone will stop badgering me and Grandpa.” He was still holding her arms and his touch felt a little too warm, a little too comfortable. She wiggled loose and stepped back, her gaze sweeping over him.
The deep blue shirt molded to his chest while his jeans hugged his lower half. For a brief moment, she forgot what she was about to say as she stared at him. Her senses quickly returned when she remembered why she was there in the first place. “Why aren’t you dead? I know you were shot. I saw the blood.”
“I heal quickly.”
The guy actually sounded genuine. She wasn’t buying his tall tale this time. “You
’re one of the bank robbers. This is all an elaborate scam to make everyone think me and Grandpa robbed the bank. The gun was probably loaded with blanks. Fake blood, right?” Why didn’t she think of this sooner? That was the only explanation. A short bitter laugh escaped. “I have to admit, you fooled me into thinking you might be a good guy.”
“I really am an angel.”
One eyebrow shot up. “I wasn’t born yesterday.” She studied him. “If you’re an angel, where are your wings?”
He didn’t say anything, just stared. She was right, the guy was loony. But he had the most beautiful eyes— hypnotic blue eyes.
Very intense and… She drew in a deep breath and tried to remain focused, but he made it almost impossible to concentrate. “Stop staring at me.”
“You’re so damned beautiful,” he said, but broke eye contact
long enough for her to regain her senses.
“You say you’re an angel, but you don’t sound very angelic.”
With a physique like his it was a damn shame Dillon would end up locked away in a mental ward for the rest of his life.
She turned as Sheriff Barnes opened the door. A tall blonde Raine didn’t recognize stepped into the office behind him.
“Sorry that took so long. Now we can talk,” he said. “This is Emily Gearson, an agent with the Texas Rangers. She’ll have a few questions of her own. Don’t worry. This is an informal discussion. We’re not accusing you or your grandfather of anything.”
His smile was kind. He wasn’t that old, only thirty-seven, but he always seemed so much more mature to her. He’d been her dad’s lead deputy and worked at the sheriff’s office since he was eighteen— too young to buy his own bullets. He was teased, but never seemed to mind.
Raine’s gaze shifted. There wasn’t one thing that stood out about the woman. Short blond hair, maybe five-eight. She wore a dark jacket and black pants with a light blue shirt. Texas Ranger?