Dark Angel (An Angel Novel Book 2)

by Jane West

  “You are very thoughtful.” I kept my voice even. “How did you find me?” As if I didn’t know.

  He lazily kicked at the ground for a second, then he lifted his blues back at me. “The connection.” Briefly he smiled. He looked away at the small white frame house for a moment then focused back on me. “I heard that Val returned to his natural state. I’m sorry about your breakup—”

  “You knew this?” I stared him in the eye as suspicion oozed over me like thick-cold blood.

  Aidan’s attention switched to the Cajun. His eyes took on a hunted look. Strange how his eyes use to spark like fire whenever he became predatory. Nick stood back watching, a few paces behind me. Crap! I told him to keep out of sight. “Is he your new boyfriend?” Rivalry steamed off Aidan’s tight shoulders. I looked back and sneered in silence at the Cajun, hoping he’d take the hint.

  I turned back to Aidan and relented, “Not hardly.” My snugness was apparent in my voice. Aidan laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I needed to stall him as long as possible. I averted the subject. Last thing I needed was a dead Cajun.

  “How’s Sally?”

  “She’s well. She wanted me to tell you, hello!”

  “Tell her ‘hi’ for me.” A moment of silence dropped between us. Then I asked, “What do you know about the uprising? Do I have anything to worry about?” My heart yammered in my ears.

  “There’s nothing to concern your pretty little head over. I have your back. After all, you will always be my girl. I still care about you.” His voice didn’t sound sincere, rather feigned.

  “Aidan, if you really care, then do the ceremony. It’s not fair to Sally.” In a soft, soothing voice, I reasoned, “You need to be free too!” I tried to appeal to his tender side.

  “Maybe.” He simply answered with no sign of emotion. He kept eyeing Nick though, and just my luck, the Cajun kept growling in a low tone, taunting Aidan. Crap! That damn Cajun’s head might end up on a platter yet, either by Aidan or me.

  Aidan leaned in and hugged me tightly. I was taken off my feet. I didn’t expect a hug, and when he kissed me, it felt unnatural and foreign. I didn’t return his forwardness. It turned my stomach. When he finally released me, his eyes were smothering. Apparently, my lack of interest didn’t suit his highness.

  When I pulled away from his luring blues, my eyes dropped to his hand. With no warning, everything went into a tailspin. I strangled on empty words. My lips felt cold and dry. A vision wheeled in my mind to that day, to that spine-chilling day when my life ceased, and there it laid before my eyes. There was no denying it nor going back. That identical ring, the ring with that disgusting eye symbol worn on the very same hand, and the very same finger. Instantly, I wanted to vomit.

  Unaware my mind had taken me back to the past. It was happening all over again—the exact cologne, the same terrifying dread clawing to get out—only the face was no longer hidden. Certainty shuddered through me. With complete utter acuity, I knew that Aidan was the faceless boy! It was he who betrayed me, who framed me for murders I didn’t commit. It was as if he locked me up himself and threw the key away. It hit me like a plane crashing into the deep blue sea, cold and bitter. Aidan had taken my mother’s life. Oh dear god! His sister, Helen, didn’t kill my mother. It was all a web of lies. Sally and Aidan were together in this all along. The newspaper! He left that damn paper for me to find. His plan was to arouse panic in me in order for my essence to become blocked, making me vulnerable for the taking. I’d been such a fool. Of course it was him. Who else could’ve done a more thorough job?

  I glared up at him, and pure panic penetrated my blood. I turned to Nick and screamed, “Run!” Then I stretched my arm, commanding my knives, and they obeyed as the flash of steel torpedoed my target. Nick hit the ground as my knives whizzed past. The deadly blades stopped in suspension, only an inch from Aidan’s throat, corralling him against a tree. My eyes flamed, and right at the moment, I was certain I was in absolute, complete control.

  “It was you who framed me—you and Sally,” I spoke calm yet deadly. When my eyes leveled with his, I saw the raw fear in his deep blues. This was the beginning of the end.

  My tribulations.