The Redemption Series

by Melynda Price

  Following the direction of Olivia’s outstretched arm, the old woman’s cataract-grayed eyes squinted to the bottom of the marble steps. After a moment of hard looking, she readjusted her glasses and gave it another try. “Dear, there’s no one there.”

  “Oh Lord, I really am crazy,” she murmured.

  Grandma laid a sympathetic hand on Olivia’s arm and gave it a patronizing pat.

  “You’re not crazy,” the figment of her imagination piped in.

  “Let me get someone to help you,” sweet granny offered. “Here, take my cane and sit on the bench.” She gestured to the vacant wrought iron bench on the sidewalk, precisely four feet from Olivia’s very large, very muscular illusion.

  “She can’t see me,” he explained, taking a step up the marble stairs. “Let me help you, Olivia.”

  The familiarity in the way he used her name added insult to injury. Ignoring his offer, she tested the strength of her ankle. When it refused to hold her weight, she begrudgingly accepted the old woman’s cane. “Thank you. I just need to sit for a minute. I’m sure my ankle will be all right.”

  “I’ll get you some help.”

  Before Olivia could protest, the Good Samaritan hobbled away, leaning heavily on the railing as she snail-paced it up the stairs.

  “Are you always this stubborn?” her illusion asked, folding his arms across his wide chest. He followed a few steps behind as she gimped to the bench. On the plus side, if she was going to start imagining guys, at least she made them hot.

  “Ignoring me won’t make me any less real,” he persisted.

  Then Plan A was a bust, because that was exactly what she’d intended to do. “Will it make you go away?” she snapped.

  “No. Not until I tell you what I came here to say.”

  Somehow, Olivia wasn’t so sure that even then, he would leave her alone. But the way she saw it, she had two things going for her. One, if Tate was a figment of her imagination, then at least he couldn’t kill her. Two, if by some unexplainable phenomena he really did exist, then it was doubtful he’d whack her right here in public. So either way, it was unlikely death was imminent. Besides, Grandma was going for help, albeit not as quickly as Olivia would have liked, but help was on its way.

  “All right then, talk,” she snapped impatiently, looking down at her watch. Shit…she was going to be late. “Tell me whatever it is you have to say and then go.”

  He stood before her, dark brows scrunching in displeasure. Clearly, he didn’t appreciate her candidness—or perhaps being told what to do. This guy looked like he was more used to giving orders than taking them. She had to admit, for a figment of her imagination, his commanding presence felt pretty damn intimidating.

  He watched her a moment in contemplative silence. Then, as if deciding on something, knelt on the sidewalk before her. “Let me see your ankle.”

  She didn’t miss the note of impatience in his voice. Before she could refuse, he reached out and gently but firmly grasped her foot, slipping off her sandal.

  His touch sent a jolt of awareness flooding her veins. “You are real,” she gasped, unable to deny the power coursing through his hands and seeping into her ankle. Liquid heat spread up her leg as the throbbing pain steadily diminished. “Why can I see you, but that woman couldn’t?”

  Tate stopped the assessment of her injury and glanced up at her with a dark violet gaze that made her heart ache with unexplainable loss. She didn’t like the way he made her feel. The emotions he stirred to life were painful and confusing. As a surge of overwhelming grief knifed into her heart, she suddenly found herself fighting back the urge to start sobbing.

  “That old woman couldn’t see me because I wasn’t in corporeal form. You can see me because you have the gift of Sight, Olivia. Your eyesight can transcend dimensions, which means you possess the ability to see angels and demons. I can block your sight, demons cannot, which is why you’re in danger. You are a threat to the Dark Court because you can expose them. They want you dead. My job is to make sure that doesn’t happen. Your job is to let me do my job, and so far you haven’t been cooperating very well.”

  He focused his attention back on her ankle, and Olivia winced when his fingers found a particularly tender spot. His grimace looked genuinely remorseful. Maybe, just maybe, he was telling her the truth. And if he was…God help her.

  “Back in the elevator, you said you were my new guardian. What happened to my old one and why can’t I remember him? What was his name?”

  Seeming overly focused on his task, he looked reluctant to answer, his dark brows furrowing in contemplation. “Look, Olivia, I’m not even supposed to be here, and I’m sure as hell not supposed to be telling you this. But the way I see it, you haven’t given me any other choice. Your life is at stake—”

  “Tell me his name,” she pressed, believing Tate more and more with each passing second. Something told her he spoke the truth. The comforting heat infusing her ankle warred with the dread churning in her gut. Could it be possible that this…angel held the answers she’d spent the last eight weeks seeing a shrink to get? After two months of therapy, she wasn’t any closer to the truth now than before. “Tate…”

  He gave a pensive sigh and met her stare. “His name is Liam.”

  Her heart hammered against her chest at hearing the same name her mother had spoken the night she’d picked Olivia up from that hospital in Duluth. She hadn’t uttered it since, and wouldn’t talk of it now, even when Olivia had pressed her for answers. Her mother claimed she didn’t know anything. The only thing she could tell her was that Liam was an “old boyfriend” from several years ago. Minutes before she was to walk down the aisle and marry Mitch, he’d snuck into the church and abducted her. Kim didn’t know anything beyond that, other than there had been an accident. She’d been in a coma for days before Liam had called her mother and father to come and get her. By the time Olivia had awoken, he was gone, and so was her memory.

  “There were rumors…that he loved you. That he…” Tate cleared his throat, seeming uncomfortable to continue. Casting his gaze to the ground he murmured, “That he…crossed boundaries of an intimate nature with you.”

  Oh Lord…had he? Did they? She couldn’t remember.

  “I should say, in his defense, that these allegations were never proven in court. But ultimately, he lost his guardianship of you because he violated Universal Law. Even though his bond to you has been severed, and he can no longer feel your emotions, I believe your connection to him remains. Although you can no longer remember him, I think you’re still in love with him, Olivia. And as long as you are, I cannot bond to you. Without that bond, I can’t sense you. I cannot tell when you’re in danger so I can’t keep you safe.”

  Tate’s hands left her ankle to grasp one of hers—pleadingly. Were someone to see them across the street, one might think he was proposing to her. His grip was strong, surprisingly gentle. It seemed crazy, but she’d swear she felt his energy coursing through her veins as he looked up at her, imploring, “Olivia, you have to let him go. If you don’t, I can’t protect you and you will surely die.”

  “This is crazy. How can you expect me to stop loving someone I can’t even remember? And what exactly does that mean? Violating Universal Law?” Her mind was reeling, trying to absorb the information he’d just dumped on her. She was still stuck back in the conversation where her guardian was in love with her. And she loved him, too? Really? Was that why her heart ached so? Why she felt like a part of her was missing?

  “Universal Law demands that at all costs, a human’s free will must be honored—even unto death. You don’t have amnesia, Olivia. Liam stole your memory—”

  “There you are, dear,” an aged voice called from the stairs.

  She swung her head to look over her shoulder. A security officer was escorting the hobbling old woman toward Olivia. The warm hands that held hers disappeared, and when she glanced back, Tate was gone.

  Chapter Two

  “‘Tis for your
own good they keep you here, Liam.”

  Liam turned his head, casting a seething glare at his old friend. He then returned to the monotony of watching the Monarch batter its wings against the window pane, trying to escape the glass barrier to the promised paradise on the other side.

  “Does it appease your conscience to say these things, or do you really believe the line of bullshit you’re trying to feed me?”

  He lay upon the cot, elbows bent, fingers locked to support his head. Legs crossed at his booted heels, Liam resumed the immobile position he’d taken two days ago when the High Court imprisoned him for violation of Universal Law. He stood accused of far more than that. If they expected him to repent, they’d be waiting until hell froze over. He couldn’t lie. Even if he could, he would not disgrace Olivia by discussing the intimate details of their relationship.

  Now, he and the court were at a stalemate. He awaited sentencing with nothing but time to ponder the decisions he’d made, actions he’d taken, and compromises he’d indulged in that led him to this point. How ironic that he’d existed before the creation of the earth, and yet every mistake he’d ever made could be condensed into the last three years of his life.

  His first had been falling in love with a mortal. Love…an emotion he proved no more able to govern than the humans. How arrogant he’d been to believe he could control his feelings. Yet, he knew love was so much more than an emotion. It was energy, as alive as the Creator Himself, for it was from Him that all power flowed.

  His second mistake had been giving Olivia Immanuel’s Stone for her eighteenth birthday. What had been a heavenly gift marking her as protected, had turned out to be a source of power sought by an evil Nephilim who should have died back in the Great Flood.

  His third mistake was showing up in Olivia’s dressing room three years after letting her go, minutes before she was to walk down the aisle and give herself to another man. Tossing her over his shoulder, he’d stolen her away. And from that point on, he’d pretty much stopped counting his mistakes.

  As undeserving as that bastard was, Liam knew in his heart that had Mitch been a better man, the outcome would have been no different. Ultimately, Liam hadn’t been able to let her go, and God knows he’d tried. Three years he’d spent in bondage, a slave to his heartache, and now he was in another prison—this one of his own making, as well.

  “They do this because they care, Liam. They know as well as I do that if they let you out, you’re going to fall for her. They want to give you time to clear your head, time to heal. Think this through—don’t fuck this up.”

  Think this through? He’d done nothing but, since leaving her. It was all he could think about. And fuck this up? Well, clearly that ship had already sailed. He’d been prepared to do the right thing here, resolved to loving her from afar and finding his consolation in the knowledge that although she would no longer remember him, no longer love him, he at least had her guardianship. He’d wiped himself from Olivia’s mind—her heart—and honestly, knowing she wasn’t suffering the same heartbreak as him, was the only thing keeping him sane right now.

  With a burst of simmering fury, he leapt up, facing his best friend. Liam met Balen’s gaze through the bars and wanted to lash out at him for the sympathy he saw in those violet eyes. Dammit…he didn’t want his pity. He wanted Balen to get him the fuck out of here.

  “I can’t feel her anymore, Balen. They’ve severed our connection. I don’t know if she’s safe, if she’s happy… She could be dead for all I know,” he cut off with a vivid curse. “I had no choice. I did what I had to do to keep her safe, to protect her from Haden. If the court can’t see that—”

  “You violated her free will, Liam. You broke Universal Law by erasing her memory. Right or wrong, justified or not, you had to know there would be consequences. I’m not even going to mention the other charges. Just be glad they couldn’t prove them, or you’d be in a hell of a lot worse place than cooling your heels here for a little while. Three squares and a room with a view ain’t bad, considering the alternative.”

  “She’s not a drug, Balen. They can’t detox her out of my system. I love her—”

  “I know you do,” his friend replied sadly, “and I’m sorry it came to this.”

  “How is she?” Liam hated to ask, but needed to know—even though the answer was going to kill him. He broke Balen’s gaze, attempting to hide the inevitable jade flare in his eyes. It was bad enough he couldn’t keep the venom from his voice at the mere thought of another Ronnin taking his place. Jealousy burned through his veins like poison, turning them to ash.

  No doubt, this was another reason for the T.O. For if Liam were free, he couldn’t guarantee the angel’s safety. The High Court hoped that a little cooling-off period without the bond that allowed him to feel Olivia’s emotions, and the separation of time and space, would eventually quell his love for the female. Not fucking likely...

  “She’s…well. She doesn’t remember who you are. In fact, she doesn’t remember the last four years of her life. Naturally, she’s struggling to make sense of it all.”

  “That’s better than the alternative,” he grumbled, refusing to regret, or second guess, the most difficult decision he’d ever made in his life. If he’d known he was going to lose her in the end… “And her guardian?”

  Balen hissed a sharp oath. “You really are a glutton for punishment, aren’t you? Just let it go, Liam. Nothing good will come of your knowing.”

  “Who is he?” The harsh demand echoed off the walls, booming down the prison corridor.

  “For crissake!” Balen snapped, “Keep it down. You want them to think you’ve lost it?”

  “Who is he?” A feral snarl rumbled in his throat. His head snapped up, eyes locking on his friend, daring Balen to deny him, no longer caring to hide the truth reflected in his amethyst-hued glare.

  Sighing, the angel dragged a hand through his tawny cropped hair, making it stand on end. His friend looked as strung-out as Liam felt. Regret filled Balen’s eyes, and Liam held his gaze in an uncompromising grip of determination, waiting for the answer to what would no doubt shred his last threads of self-control, yet unable to stop himself from demanding the truth.

  “Tate.”

  “Son of a bitch!” The growl tore from his throat.

  “He said to tell you he isn’t any happier about this than you are.”

  With blinding speed, Liam grabbed the cell bars, giving them a fierce yank. “Get me out of here, Balen!”

  Slowly shaking his head, Balen stepped back, turned, and walked away. “I can’t—even if I wanted to. Let her go, Liam. She isn’t yours anymore.”

  Olivia was late. Every Tuesday for the last eight weeks, she met her friend, Ashley, for coffee after her doctor’s appointment—same time, same place. Not today. Ashley’s comely face was pinched into a worried frown as she frequently checked her watch. The snit wasn’t big on patience, but as it turned out, neither was he. Unease slowly started to churn in Haden’s gut and the feeling was most unwelcomed. More so was the consideration for its cause.

  Two months had passed since Olivia had returned to Evercrest. In the days following her arrival, Haden had taken care to keep his distance, mindful not to spook the female as he lie in wait for Liam’s return. The bastard hadn’t shown—a most baffling turn of events.

  The last time they’d crossed paths, Olivia was dying in the angel’s arms and Haden was fighting like hell to keep a bar full of demons at bay. He needed Olivia alive. She was his only link to the stone. If Liam had been telling the truth and she truly didn’t know where it was hidden, she was still the leverage he needed to force Liam’s hand. That’s why he’d saved the female’s life in Duluth, why he was watching her now… At least that was the lie he told himself.

  Haden glanced at his own watch, tapping his booted foot impatiently against the grass. It wasn’t like her to be late. In the last couple of months, he’d learned a great deal from watching the female. Olivia was a creature of habit, wh
ich made this whole stalker gig a cinch. She liked routine and was always punctual. Health and fitness were important to her—her killer ass was testament to that, even if he hadn’t watched her come and go from the gym five days a week where she worked as a nutritionist and yoga instructor.

  She had a few close friends. Otherwise, she preferred to stay to herself. For some reason, since coming back from Minnesota, she was seeing a shrink every Tuesday. Aside from nearly getting herself killed in Duluth, he’d known the female to be intelligent and level-headed. She was methodical by nature and basically the exact opposite of her impetuous best friend, Ashley. Now, that one was a head-case. Easy on the eyes, but it was a wonder that female hadn’t gotten herself killed by now.

  Olivia’s ex-fiancé was a complete douche, but then, he already knew that from the displeasure of meeting him before. The little shit had gotten physical with her when she’d tried to dump his sorry ass in Duluth. Too bad Liam hadn’t taken Haden up on his offer to whack the fucker. If the prick didn’t start leaving her alone, he might still do it.

  Ashley grabbed her cell and made a call, no doubt checking up on her MIA BFF. A moment later, she shoved her phone into her purse, anxiety knitting her arched brows. Olivia wasn’t coming. Standing up from the bench where he’d casually lounged for the last hour, Haden left, irritated by his own disappointment in not seeing the female, while trying to ignore the needling concern that something was wrong. Thirty minutes later, he found himself standing on the sidewalk outside Olivia’s house.

  The driveway sat empty except for her jet-black Camaro. Why had she come home from her doctor’s appointment instead of meeting Ashley for coffee? The answer came in the soft hiccupping sobs wafting out through the crack in the kitchen window.

  He told himself it was curiosity that propelled his feet forward. It definitely wasn’t the knot of tension fisting in his gut. Since he hadn’t taken corporeal form, there was no need to knock on the door before helping himself inside her parents’ house. Why had she moved back home? One of his many question still left unanswered.