Dark Angel Box Set

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Dark Angel Box Set Page 129

by Hanna Peach


  I know him.

  But how do I know him?

  A disjointed image floated up in her head. It was an image of this very same man, smiling at her…smiling at her as if she was his whole world. In her mind’s image he seemed younger, and his hair was longer, curling at his collar. But there was no mistaking him. Was this a memory? If it was she couldn’t place it. Where had it come from? And this was strange…in her memory he had a pale scar that cut across his top lip that the man in real life didn’t have. They couldn’t be the same man.

  “Hello?” she said tentatively. “Have you been waiting for me?”

  There it was. That smile that shone brilliantly across his face. The same smile from that strange shard of memory, except in her memory his smile made his scar pale to silver.

  He laughed softly, almost like a playful growl. Then he spoke, “Apparently so.” His voice was deep and smooth like a running bass guitar riff and it trickled into her pores and plucked at her skin. Her heart went aflutter.

  * * *

  You’re here to meet your destiny.

  Israel didn’t believe in destiny. Destiny was not what he thought when he saw her approaching around the side of the cathedral. What he did feel was one hell of a mule kick in his chest.

  This must be Alyx.

  Something about her caught his deepest instinctive attention. Perhaps it was the hints of her slim body under those black tailored pants and a white blouse under a matching black jacket. Or in the way she moved, sleek like a gazelle. Maybe it was the wind tousling her long dark hair around her pale face, letting him catch only glimpses of her red mouth. His peripheral dimmed so that she was the only clear thing in his eyes.

  As she got closer he began to make out more features on her heart-shaped face. She was stunning, sharp cheekbones like smooth china, and a pair of cat-shaped eyes trimmed with dark lashes and set with brilliant jade. She met his gaze without blinking.

  An image of her flashed across his mind but with different hair, shorter at the back but with two long blades framing her face, and her body donned in a tight black leather jacket with a stiff raised collar. It was a far cry from this outwardly conservative woman before him. Or was that just a veil? Something in the way she held herself told Israel that she wasn’t as conservative as she appeared.

  He caught her scent… something sweet yet spicy. Something warm but sharp, like he knew she would be. It was intoxicating. And familiar.

  I know her from somewhere.

  Something inside him woke, rising, fluttering to life, opening its long-closed eyes.

  At the same time her chest and shoulders hitched, as if she just took in a sharp breath. He, on the other hand, had stopped breathing. Everything slowed to the silence between heartbeats.

  Say something.

  “Hello?” She beat him to it. Her voice was clear and soft. She had a slight accent that told him she was local but she’d been educated in a way that had refined it. “Have you been waiting for me?”

  All my life.

  Nerves tickled his belly, making him laugh, and he smiled so broadly that it almost hurt. “Apparently so.”

  Her shoulders relaxed in apparent relief. She smiled back at him and it reached up to her sparkling eyes. His heart began to beat against his rib bones as if it wanted out so it could get as close to this perfect creature as possible.

  For a few moments he just looked at her. And she looked at him.

  He felt this strange familiarity with her and yet he couldn’t place her. How embarrassing. Where had he met her before? He better figure out where he knew her from and quickly.

  Say something, dammit.

  “Hi,” he found himself saying. His mind wasn’t working so well.

  A slight flush colored her cheeks. “Hi,” she said back.

  “Alyx?”

  She looked surprised that he knew her name. That was odd. “Yes. And you are?”

  “I’m Israel.” Before he realized what he was doing, he was holding out his right hand, reaching for her.

  She didn’t hesitate in sliding her small soft hand into his. The touch of her sent his blood thundering around his body and roaring in his ears. He never wanted to let go.

  * * *

  “Well, will you look at that?” Balthazar said.

  Through the dusty window of the nearby garden shed, Vix watched Israel and Alyx standing before each other on the top steps of the cathedral, still holding hands. They were just standing there, staring mutely at each other, despite the fierce wind that whipped up leaves around them.

  Vix’s chest swelled with pride and she could not contain the happiness from bursting across her face in a grin. “Told you it would work.”

  Balthazar nudged Vix. “Do you think we’ll get invited to their wedding?”

  Jordan, standing on Vix’s other side, was the only one who was watching the mortal pair solemnly, his arms folded across his chest. “It takes more than an initial connection and two minutes of making googly eyes at each other to forge a lifelong commitment.”

  “True,” said Vix, “but we already know that these two can make it. I mean, look at all they did for each other in their past lives. Look at all they went through.”

  Jordan turned towards her. There was barely any light in the shed but Seraphim eyes worked like cats’. She didn’t need light to see that his eyebrows were furrowed and his normally thick lips were pressed thin. “If they were meant to reunite in this life, why hasn’t fate brought them together herself?”

  Vix tried to laugh this off. “You’re just bitter that you didn’t come up with this genius plan.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know, Vix. It’s not right to mess with fate.”

  “We weren’t messing. We were just…helping fate along.”

  Jordan turned back towards the window. Israel and Alyx were still standing there. “Look at the sky.” The sky had become a dark gelatinous carpet, blocking out the remains of daylight. “It just doesn’t feel right. This incoming storm…”

  “You’re being silly and superstitious.”

  He shook his head. “I just feel like something’s going to go horribly, horribly wrong.”

  * * *

  Israel could stand here all night just holding her hand, storm or not. But she pulled her hand from his and he regrettably let her go.

  She cleared her throat. “So, Israel… Are you one of Daniel’s friends?”

  “Daniel?” Who the hell was Daniel? Was he a boyfriend? He better not be a boyfriend. “I’m not friends with Daniel.”

  “A work colleague, then. Where is he? He said six o’clock.”

  What was she talking about? He frowned. “Didn’t you ask me to meet you here?”

  Her eyes widened. “No. I don’t even know you.”

  What the hell was going on?

  Overhead the heavy clouds that had been holding back the rain finally broke, showering down upon them, the cold drops making him flinch. “We should get inside. Wait out the storm.” Israel grabbed for the front doors of the cathedral but they didn’t budge. That was odd. They were never usually locked.

  Lightning flashed above them and a horrible cracking sound split the air before thunder boomed, reverberating like a gong.

  What was that crack?

  He spotted a shadow dropping along the door, highlighted by the tall floodlights that had suddenly come on above them. Something was falling.

  The crack. Something had broken off the cathedral.

  He spun, raising his eyes, spotting the tumbling piece of stone, and fear lashed through him. “Look out!” he screamed at Alyx and threw himself at her.

  Everything went into slow motion. He could see his own face reflected in her eyes, wide with fear. He seemed to be launching towards her as if through a sticky glue.

  He wasn’t fast enough. The tumbling piece of stone, no larger than his head, clipped against her skull and her eyes rolled back into her head.

  Israel grabbed her as she fell. His knees j
arred on the flat stone but he didn’t care; he barely registered the pain. He was too focused on her. He lowered her head onto the ground. Her hair was matted and sticky with her own blood, and her eyes were shut. Dear God, please don’t let her be dead.

  He pressed his fingers into her neck and was relieved to find a pulse—a weak pulse, but it was there. He called to her to wake up as he wrapped his arms around her limp body, pulling her into his lap. It was no use. She was out cold.

  He slid out his phone from his pocket and dialed.

  A sharp female voice coupled with static called into his ear. “Emergency, how can we help.”

  “This is officer Israel Kader. Badge number 362922.” He stuttered as he spoke his badge number. He shouldn’t even be using it, seeing as his badge was currently sitting in one of the drawers in his captain’s desk along with his CZ 75 piece, or perhaps the captain had given up on his ever returning? He just knew that emergency would respond faster if there was an officer calling it in. He was desperate to do anything, anything, to keep Alyx from dying. Even if it meant he might get in trouble. “There’s been a woman knocked unconscious. She was hit by a falling…” he eyed the villainous stone, “gargoyle from one of the buildings. She’s losing a lot of blood. Saint Paul’s Cathedral. The front entrance. Please hurry.”

  Israel slid his phone back in his pocket and repositioned himself on the ground, cradling her head in his lap so he could hold his jacket to her open wound. He bit his lip. Blood was pouring out of her.

  “Don’t die,” he commanded her. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

  He brushed the ebony strands of hair from her cheek; he couldn’t help himself. She didn’t move. “Hang on, Alyx,” he said to her. Her name felt so familiar on his tongue. “Help is on the way.”

  * * *

  Darkness filtered into Alyx’s eyes and every crease of her skin. She slipped further back towards the edge of the precipice. She was so tired of trying to hang on. She could just let go. She could just…let go.

  “Don’t die,” a deep familiar voice crashed into her consciousness. Deep and comforting. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

  I won’t, I promise. Just don’t leave me.

  “Hang on, Alyx,” the voice vibrated into her.

  I’m trying.

  Everything solid crumbled from underneath her. Her arms windmilled backwards, desperate to grasp at something but finding only air. She was swallowed up by the darkness; the only thing she could hear was his voice. “Help is on the way, Alyx. Hang on…”

  And she fell,

  and she fell,

  and

  she

  fell.

  She landed on her front on something hard. She let out a groan and let herself lie on the ground, too winded to move just yet.

  She mentally catalogued the parts of her body, moving them slowly, testing them. Nothing seemed to be broken. Her fingers scratched some kind of material. She was lying on a carpet. No, it must be a rug because she could feel the rough fringed edge of it cutting along under her thighs and the coldness of stone seeping up through her knees.

  She tested her eyes, squinting before she opened them fully. Wherever she was, it was a room cast in flickering firelight and shadows. How long could she lie here before someone made her get up?

  How did she even get here? Her mind was fuzzy. And her head throbbed like a heartbeat. She remembered going to meet someone…at the cathedral…then…

  Nothing.

  How could there be nothing?

  She had to get up and figure out where she was. She pushed herself gingerly to sitting. Her muscles were stiff as if she hadn’t used them for days.

  She was in a large room with soaring vaulted ceiling that had stars carved into it, several pillars holding up the structure. Directly above her was a large piece of carved stone that dripped down from the ceiling with a diamond-shaped end. The keystone. But the keystone of what?

  How did she get here?

  And where was here?

  She pushed herself up to her feet. She touched the back of her head, the source of the fading pain, and was relieved to see there was no blood on her fingers when she pulled them away. Her black pants and jacket were scuffed but otherwise she seemed fine.

  She gazed around the walls, which undulated from the stone carvings set in every inch of them, and frowned. There was something odd about this room. Something…missing.

  There were no windows here. None at all. She spun, scanning the walls, peering into the shadows that fell about the room from the flames set in ornate iron torches bolted into the pillars, the only source of light. There were no doors.

  Her heart began to pound just a little faster. She walked around the perimeter, trying to find a door, a way out, her bootsteps echoing in the space.

  She traced her fingers across the relief carvings on the walls. There was a huge tree with gnarled roots and fruit on the ends of its branches like large eggs. There were three men facing each other, flowing cloaks about their shoulders and all wearing a matching amulet at the end of a chain around their necks.

  There was a horrible scene where limp bodies hung upside down from trees, the ends of their hair soaking in the pool of blood that trickled down from their fingers. Alyx shuddered, pulled her hand from it and kept moving.

  She stopped before a battle scene in a desert valley between figures seemingly clashing in mid-air, mountains and a huge mosque in the background. It flowed into a scene of a couple within the remains of the mosque. Alyx leaned in closer and frowned. He was lying on the ground, his head in her lap, the broken bones of the structure littering the sand, stars seeming to hang in the air around them.

  It ended here.

  What ended here? Where did that thought even come from?

  She traced the boy’s face etched in stone, and her heart squeezed in her chest. Something about this scene…something about this boy. He was familiar. And the girl… Or perhaps she was projecting herself onto these walls.

  A darkness blurred in the corner of her eye.

  She spun around, the only sounds the twist of her heel on the stone and her heart beating in her throat.

  “Hello?” Her voice echoed off the cavern walls, her eyes trying to pierce into the shadows the pillars made. She wasn’t sure she was alone in here anymore.

  Chapter 3

  “Sir, you can’t go in there with her.”

  A large burly male nurse stepped in front of Israel, preventing him from following Alyx’s gurney into the operating room at the Mother of Mercy Hospital. Over the man’s shoulder, Israel lost sight of her behind the swinging doors and panic clutched at his heart with cold fingers. In his mind’s eye he saw another set of doors closing on another body. Adere. The memory of another cursed night flashed into his mind, causing him to flinch.

  …her open eyes dull and lifeless…

  He shook this image from his mind. This was post-traumatic stress. He was reacting like this because of what happened… He was sure that’s what his government-issued therapist would say. If he ever went back to her.

  PTSD or not, he was going to make sure Alyx was okay. He was…responsible for her.

  Israel grabbed the male nurse by the arm before he moved away. “Please, is she going to be okay?”

  Despite his size, the nurse had a kind round face with soft cheeks. “You’ll have to wait ’til she’s been assessed.”

  “Then I can see her?”

  The nurse eyed him. “Are you family?”

  He considered lying for a second and saying that he was her brother, but no one would believe it. He was dark and tanned as opposed to her porcelain skin, and he had dark, deep-set eyes as opposed to her open round emerald ones. “No.”

  “Then I’m afraid we can’t let you in.”

  “You don’t understand… I’m going to marry her,” he blurted out.

  “You’re her fiancé?”

  The lie was out there. He might as well run with it. It wasn’t like there was anyone
here to refute his claim. He inhaled deeply and lifted his chin with confidence. “Yes.”

  “Wait here and someone’ll get you when she’s ready to have visitors.”

  After the ambulance had arrived at Saint Paul’s Cathedral and picked Alyx up, that should have been the end of it for Israel. He should have considered his civic duty done and gone to find the closest bar. No one would have expected anything more from him; he barely knew her. But he found he just couldn’t walk away without knowing she was okay. He just couldn’t.

  He had flagged down a taxi in the rain by running out in front of it. He leaped into the passenger seat and ordered the cabbie to drive. They’d followed the ambulance through the labyrinth of skinny Saint Joseph streets to this hospital where he was now, sitting in one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs in a waiting room on the second level, listening to the clack of footsteps along the laminated flooring, the distant beeping of machines and the occasional adrenaline-fueled chaos of doctors and nurses around a gurney barreling its way through the hallway.

  Finally the same burly male nurse came out. “Israel? You can come and see her now.” He led Israel into a small white room smelling of antiseptic, stepping aside to let him through. There in the center of the tiny white room was Alyx, lying like a ghost, almost disappearing into the sheets of the hospital bed, her hair pooling around her looking like the blackest of spilled inks. As he got closer he could see the tube coming out from her arm and into an IV drip. A machine on the far side of her was beeping, a thin green line showing that her heart was still beating, the only sign that she was alive. Israel’s gut clenched fiercely. He barely knew this woman, but something in him felt tied to that beeping line.

  “Is she okay?” he asked the nurse.

  “Maybe I should let the doctor talk to you. I’ll go get her.”

  The doctor? Israel’s gut churned. That didn’t sound good. He gazed over Alyx’s prone body. Her closed eyelashes were so long they almost brushed her cheeks. Her cheeks had gone pale, not flushed pink like they were when they stood facing each other outside the cathedral. He brushed the fragile skin of her forehead with his fingers. She was so soft. “Alyx, if you can hear me…” What would he say to her? He didn’t know her. She didn’t know him.

 

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