Heavenly Desire

by J. L. Sheppard

  In that moment, all he wanted was to avenge her though it was outrageous and irrational. He was an angel, and angels didn’t administer justice to pricks. They helped those in need because life had a way of paying back people who caused others harm.

  Luckily, the rage subsided. When it did, all he’d wanted to do was hold her and assure her everything would be okay until it was. If that didn’t work, then he would find another angel, who could read her, to ease her pain.

  That, too, was illogical and irrational because angels only performed such duties when the person had lost their way in life, and clearly Ashley had not. Her pain hadn’t stopped her from becoming the woman she was today, a functioning member of society who’d set out to become something of herself and had regardless of her past.

  As the clock struck eight, Ashley looked thoroughly exhausted and nearly as pale as her chef’s coat. He wondered how many more long hours she’d have to work while he guarded her. When it occurred to him, it all depended on him.

  His duty was to tell her and convince her to travel to New York to reunite with her sisters. It had been his reason for asking her out to dinner, but all he had done that night was admire her. The following day, he’d done more of the same. His duty had slipped his mind completely.

  As he pondered it now, he felt it was still too soon to tell her. He didn’t think she would believe him. Unless he left out the immortal business and told her he’d come on behalf of her sisters. The problem was he’d already lied to her about his reasons for being in London, if he admitted the truth or a version of it now, she wouldn’t believe him. He could have Jenna and Jocelyn travel to London, then surely she would believe him.

  As Ashley closed up the bakery, his mind drifted toward the exhaustion clear in her expression and mannerisms. He shouldn’t bother her that evening. He should let her rest, but he also knew he wouldn’t because he couldn’t. She hadn’t eaten all day and needed her strength if she worked such long hours six days a week. As her guardian, his duty was to protect and safeguard her, that included ensuring her health.

  He watched her leave the bakery and followed her home, still in spirit form. When he was sure she was safe inside, he left, stopped at a nearby steak house and ordered takeout. He then returned to her flat, knocked and waited for her to answer.

  When she opened the door, she looked even paler than half an hour earlier, her surprised expression speaking volumes.

  “Hi,” he said, smiling.

  “Hi, Clyde, I wasn’t expecting you,” she said softly pulling her robe closed.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I just thought I’d surprise you. I got us some takeout.”

  “Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”

  “But I wanted to.” God’s honest truth.

  “Well, thanks. Come on in,” she said standing aside.

  He strolled inside and toward the dining room, placed the bags of food on the table and began unpacking.

  “I should get some plates.”

  “Don’t do that on my account. I can eat right out of these containers.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Ash, come, eat, please.”

  She closed the distance between them and then took a seat across from him. He placed her food in front of her then remembered they needed real knifes to cut the steaks.

  “Where are your knives?”

  “I’ll get them,” she volunteered.

  He placed his arm on her shoulder to stop her then said, “No, I’ll get them.”

  “Okay, they are in the second drawer to the left of the sink.”

  He disappeared momentarily and returned, placing a knife and fork in front of her then considered cutting her steak for her since he didn’t think she had the energy for it but decided against it. She’d probably be offended if he treated her like a child. Patiently, he waited as she cut into her steak and took a bite then he did the same.

  “Thanks for this,” she mumbled.

  “Work late tonight?”

  “Yeah,” she said, taking a bite of the mashed potatoes.

  “Didn’t have time to eat, huh?”

  “I was busy, and it just slipped my mind, I guess.”

  “You are pale, very pale.”

  She sighed heavily. “I know, Clyde.”

  Her nonchalance over the matter spiked his frustration. “Do you do this a lot? Not eat because you’re working?” he asked, his tone firm.

  “I just forget sometimes. The bakery has been getting busier, and the owner refuses to hire more employees. As it is, I’m the only one in the kitchen because everyone else handles the customers.”

  “You should quit.” He said exactly what he thought.

  Her eyes snapped to his and widened. “I love my job, Clyde.”

  “It’s affecting your health. You are too thin and now pale.”

  She dropped her fork and knife. They clattered against the glass top of her dining table. “If you think I’m too thin and pale then don’t look at me. I don’t need to be scolded by a man I barely know,” she snapped.

  He obviously hadn’t learned his lesson the first time around because he’d done it again. Taking a deep breath, he reprimanded himself for his stupidity. “Ashley, that’s not what I—”

  “I don’t know who you think you are telling me this stuff. I know I’m too thin and pale. I have a mirror. Do you think you’re doing me any favors?” she asked, her voice rising.

  “Ash, please, that’s not what I—”

  She cut him off. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a long time.”

  “I care about you,” he admitted. So much, I can’t understand it myself. He swallowed the urge to say the words on the tip of his tongue then said, “And I don’t want you passing out because you didn’t eat. Everyone needs to eat.”

  He held her gaze, but neither of them spoke for several moments. He knew she was trying to assimilate what he’d said and whether she should believe it.

  Looking away from him, she said, “I’m sorry I lost my temper.”

  He reached for her hand and grasped it firmly in his. She jumped at the touch, and her gaze darted to him. A jolt of heat shot up his arm, but he held still. The touch meant to comfort her soothed him, more than he wanted to admit.

  “You are a beautiful woman, Ashley. You aren’t too thin. You’re perfect just a little pale, which is reasonable since you didn’t eat. I care about you, and I just want you to realize you can’t sacrifice your health for a job.”

  He released her hand, then a breath, and she resumed eating. They ate and talked for the next fifteen minutes. After they were done, he gathered the trash and went into the kitchen to throw it away and wash the utensils they used. When he returned, he caught sight of her sitting on her couch. Her eyes closed. As he neared her, he called her name. She didn’t respond. She had fallen asleep.

  His chest tightened, guilt washing over him realizing he’d probably kept her up longer than she intended.

  For several moments, he just stood there and admired the angles of her face, now relaxed in slumber.

  She’s so beautiful, and she doesn’t know it.

  Placing one hand behind her neck and the other under her knees, he lifted her in his arms. His body tightened as her body pressed against his. It was a fleeting moment as he walked toward her room, laid her in bed then covered her with several blankets, but he was glad for it. He’d had the chance to feel her warmth once again and care for her in the simplest of ways.

  He considered leaving but acknowledged he’d have no way to lock the deadbolt behind him. There was no way he would leave her alone with a mere flimsy lock. He could easily shift to spirit form and leave but then he would have no way to explain how he had managed to lock the deadbolt. Instead, he lay on her couch and easily fell asleep, comforted with the thought she was a mere few feet away.

  ****

  The time to tell her the truth had come. He’d postponed the inevitable long enough. Because of it, before he changed his mi
nd, he’d called her insisting they meet. She’d asked him to wait for her outside the bakery.

  Glancing at his watch again, he realized he’d waited for half an hour, and still she hadn’t shown. Suddenly nervous, he decided to head inside. He grasped the door and tried to pull it open, but it was locked. Strange, he thought since the lights were on inside. He shifted to spirit form and materialized inside.

  “He’s coming for me.”

  He heard her voice and felt it inside him, startling him. Turning and glancing around the bakery, he didn’t see her.

  “Who?” he asked loudly, striding through the door leading to the kitchen.

  “You know who, Clyde.” Her voice washed over him.

  Searching the bakery from front to back again and again, still he couldn’t find her. Where was she? He could hear her. She had to be here. Where else would she be?

  “Where are you, Ash?” he yelled losing his patience.

  “Right here,” she whispered.

  He ran his hands through his hair and sprinted toward the front of the bakery. Nowhere in sight. He ran back to the kitchen and searched again.

  “Where?” he yelled, exasperated.

  “Where you left me.”

  Where had he left her? When was the last time he had seen her?

  He couldn’t remember.

  Why had he left her side? Why? He had been watching her closely for a week. He always followed her, guarded her, protected her. Why had he agreed to meet her here? Why hadn’t he followed her from her house?

  He had to find her. Someone was after her. He would never forgive himself if something happened to her.

  Panicked, his hands began to tremble uncontrollably. “Ashley, please, tell me where you are!”

  “Clyde, I’m right where I’m supposed to be. I’m right where you left me.”

  Sweat beaded on his forehead. He quickly wiped it away with the back of his palm.

  He left her? Why had he left her? He wouldn’t have left her anywhere.

  He searched the bakery again and again and again, berating himself every step of the way.

  “That’s enough, Clyde. I need you now. It’s time for you to wake up.”

  Chapter 6

  Ashley’s eyes slowly fluttered open. She was hot, too hot. As her vision focused, she realized why. Three blankets lay over her. Pulling two of the three off her, her gaze drifted to the window.

  A figure stood, a tall man with broad shoulders. In the darkness of her room, she could tell his hair was a light blond shade.

  Fear crept inside her, her heart rate spiking.

  I’m dreaming. I’m imagining this. I’ll wake up soon.

  He stalked toward her, each step purposeful. As he drew closer, she noticed the evil grin on his face.

  She gasped. Her eyes widened in fear still unsure if what she saw was an illusion or real.

  “Jade,” he whispered, now just a foot away from her.

  How does he know my real name? Quickly, she sat up in bed and scooted away from him.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he said, but she was. She couldn’t help it. The evil grin, his menacing tone. “I won’t hurt you.”

  “Who…what—” she mumbled, then stood on her bed and moved farther away from him.

  “I’m Asher, and I’ve come to collect you, Jade.”

  “Don’t come closer,” she warned. “I’ll scream. I swear I will…”

  He continued walking toward her, more cautiously now. “Jade, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, trying to sound soothing, yet it still didn’t come across that way.

  “Get away!”

  He launched himself at her. Instinctively, she reached out with her hand, and he flew backward crashing against the wall with a loud thud, cracking it.

  She couldn’t explain what had happened, and she dismissed the thought as soon as he stood and grinned.

  “You’ve met your fated mate, and I’m him,” he said, smiling.

  Fated mate?

  She watched him disappear only to reappear moments later, an inch from her. Swiftly, he wrapped his hand around her neck, cutting off her air supply. Her eyes watered. She felt the heat rushing up her cheeks, but she fought, reaching with both hands to loosen his grip. He tightened his hand, her energy draining every second. Her heart beat slowing, she gasped for breath, now nearly gone. Soon she’d pass out.

  The door to her room slammed open, and Clyde appeared. His eyes widened in horror. Her chest constricted, terrified for him, and what her attacker would do.

  The man had come for her. She was the one he wanted. She couldn’t fathom being the reason another person was hurt or killed, especially Clyde.

  Her attacker released her and turned his attention toward Clyde. She slumped on the floor. “No…” she croaked gasping for air. Her panic heightened, her heart thumping so wildly she heard it echo in her ears. “No…don’t hurt him…you came for me,” she said between coughs.

  But it was too late, Clyde lunged at her attacker. They fell to the floor, punching and kicking. Their arms moving so swiftly, she realized to anyone else they would appear as a blur.

  She had never met anyone who could move as efficiently and quickly as she could, a talent she’d kept hidden.

  Paralyzed with fear for Clyde, she continued to watch in awe. Her attacker punched Clyde, flinging him backward. Clyde struck the wall, and it cracked before he landed on his rear.

  Her heart skipped several beats. “No!” she yelled, holding her breath.

  As if nothing had occurred, Clyde stood and lunged at the man again launching them toward the other wall and onto her dresser, slamming against it with force. A blue vase toppled as the mirror shattered, pieces of broken glass spilling on them. She heard unmistakable sound of bones cracking, and her heart lurched.

  Please God, don’t let Clyde get hurt.

  Suddenly, Clyde was at her side, lifting her and tucking her body against his. The heat of his body enveloped her as he cradled her head against his chest, the erratic pounding of his heart echoing in her ears. Swiftly, he ran out of the room then outside. She closed her eyes to prevent the tears of fear and panic from welling.

  Less than a minute later, he stopped then slowly placed her on her feet. Her legs wobbled. He wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her.

  Scanning her surroundings, she noticed Tower Bridge, more than four miles from where they had been moments before.

  “How did—”

  His face an inch from hers, so close she felt his breath on her skin. “Shh…” he said, tenderly cupping her face.

  Her heart jack hammered at the base of her neck.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll explain everything, okay?” He took off his shirt revealing the expanse of his chiseled chest and six pack abs.

  Wow.

  He tucked his shirt in his back pocket, then his attention drifted toward her. “Are you okay?” His voice steeped in concern. There was something else, too—fear.

  She nodded.

  Suddenly, seven-foot white wings speckled in silver sprouted from his back. She felt her face pale, her surroundings went out of focus then everything went black.

  ****

  Clyde caught her before she hit the ground. Good job. Sprout my wings without warning her and scare the crap out of her. The stupidest thing I’ve done in two thousand years!

  He continued to berate himself as he flew toward France. With her in his arms, he pulled her closer, tucking her head against his chest trying to protect her from the cold gusts of wind.

  The panic and fear that gripped him had yet to dissipate. He’d never experienced terror, another emotion to add to his long list, but he had tonight when he opened the door to Ashley’s room and spotted Asher’s hands wrapped around her neck. He’d come too close to losing her.

  And she’d tried to save him—the angel tasked with guarding her, protecting her, saving her.

  If it hadn’t been for the dream, he would have been too late. Sleeping feet from her, he hadn
’t heard Asher enter her flat or Ashley scream. Nothing. He could only assume Asher, with the help of a magical being, had created an illusion.

  He should have known better and been more careful. He should have told her days ago his reason for being in London. Had he done so, they’d be in New York instead of running from a fallen angel.

  It was his fault.

  When he neared the edge of France, he landed softly, ensuring he didn’t jostle Ashley, behind a Dumpster out of sight. He glanced down at her. Her face was still tucked against his chest, sleeping soundly. He retracted his wings, then headed toward the street in search of a hotel. Two blocks down, he spotted an inn. He entered and greeted the receptionist bluntly.

  “I need a room.”

  “Yes, sir. Do you have a preference of views? We have two views—”

  “No, no preference,” he said quickly.

  He paid, and the receptionist handed him the room keys. He rode up the elevator with several men who continued to stare in his direction and mumble in French amongst themselves. Clyde heard and understood every word.

  He glared in their direction then snapped, “She isn’t a whore, and I didn’t drug her. She’s sleeping.”

  Their eyes widened. When the elevator stopped, the men departed. The elevator halted once more on the fifth floor. He exited and found their room quickly. Opening the door, he noticed only one bed. He had forgotten to ask the receptionist for two.

  He lay Ashley on the bed and covered her with a blanket. Moving her head slightly, his gaze on her neck and the bruises that marred her pale skin. Clenching his jaw, he batted down the fury that arose, boiling his blood. Then and there, he made a promise to himself—he’d kill that damned fallen bastard for touching and bruising her.

  Walking to a small table at the end of the room, he picked up the phone and dialed Jenna in New York.

  “Hello.”

  “Jenna.”

  “Clyde?” she asked, sounding surprised.

  “Yeah, it’s me.”