Amelia
jumped when her mobile phone rang, the jaunty tune breaking the
heavy silence as it buzzed on the table. Marcus frowned, his blue
eyes darting to it. She wanted to ignore it, knowing that it would
be Mike calling to chew her ear off about last night and make her
feel wretched for the rest of the weekend, but the ring was so loud
that people around her were staring.
Instead
of answering, she picked it up, put her handbag on the table, and
dumped the phone into it, muffling the annoying
ringtone.
“Why
didn’t you answer it?” Marcus stared at her bag. Amelia tapped the
table, cringing inside and wishing the phone would stop
ringing.
“It’s my
ex.” Ignoring him was preferable to speaking with him.
Marcus
surprised her by reaching across the table, fishing the phone out
of her handbag, and flicking it open. Amelia could only stare as he
brought the phone to his ear, his face set in grim dark lines, and
glared at the table as though he wanted to kill it.
“I
thought I told you to leave Amelia alone?” He paused, his
expression darkening further and the muscle in his jaw tensing.
Amelia’s heart pounded hard and she wished she could hear what Mike
was saying to Marcus, because he looked close to going ahead and
breaking something. Anger radiated from him in strong waves and
everyone stared as he barked into the phone, “Stay away from her
because the next time you dare to go near her, I’m not going to be
so kind as to let you walk away.”
Amelia’s
hands shook, her limbs trembling with them, and she joined everyone
in staring at Marcus as he clicked the phone shut and dropped it
back into her purse. What had just happened?
He had
defended her again when she had been convinced that he wanted
nothing to do with her.
His eyes
met hers across the table and the trace of compassion in them only
confused her further. He blinked slowly, dark lashes shuttering his
pale blue irises, stealing them from view before lifting again to
reveal the full extent of their beauty. Warmth shone in them, a
softness that reached out and curled around her, filling her with a
sense of safety even as her whole body quaked with the fear that
Mike wouldn’t heed Marcus’s warning and would come after her
again.
“I won’t
let him near you, Amelia. You don’t have to worry about him. I will
keep you safe.” Those words, so softly spoken in his deep voice,
weren’t a lie. There was truth in his eyes and his open expression,
and she believed him.
She just
wasn’t sure what to make of him.
What sort
of man told a woman to stay away from him and then promised to keep
her safe?
Marcus
was an enigma and something inside her was telling her to take his
advice and keep away from him, because if he turned out to be
another black knight and broke her heart, she didn’t think she
would recover from it.
She
gathered her things, rose from her seat and hesitated only long
enough to catch the confusion surfacing in his eyes before making a
swift exit.
***
Chapter 5
There was
no doubt about it.
Marcus
had put his foot in it.
Everything had been going well yesterday until Amelia had
taken hold of his hand and he had quickly withdrawn his, and rather
than making an excuse as planned, he had warned her
away.
Instinct
had pushed those words from his lips.
He had no
desire to get any closer to her than was necessary.
Marcus
raked his fingers through his overlong black hair, combing it away
from his forehead, and stared into the distance across the rooftops
of London.
Who was
he fooling?
Not
himself, that was certain.
The spark
of desire her touch had reignited in him, bringing his hunger to
caress her in return back to boiling point, and the warmth that
travelled through his flesh, spreading outwards from the point
where her fingers rested against his skin was unmistakably a sign
of him harbouring an attraction towards her.
He paced
the black tarred roof of his apartment building, scouring the
horizon for an answer to his troubles. The problem of gaining
Amelia’s trust had been all but solved until he had foolishly told
her to keep away from him.
He had
always been aware that his instinct to protect her ran deep in his
veins but had never suspected that it had corrupted his heart too
and that he would even deem it necessary to protect her from
himself. She’d had her share of pain and suffering, more than such
a pure kind soul deserved, and he couldn’t bring himself to add to
it. When his mission was over, he was leaving Earth and Amelia
behind him for good. If he used her desire against her, her heart
would break when that happened. She would never understand. She
would blame herself, just as she did whenever one of the vile men
she involved herself with decided to leave her or did something
that forced her to leave them.
He
couldn’t be like them.
Amelia
deserved better.
Far
better than him, that was for sure.
One day,
she would meet the man who would become her world and who would
treat her right and make her happy.
A flash
of her smiling at him yesterday cut into his thoughts and deep into
his chest.
He had
made her smile.
Truly
smile with happiness and warmth.
And then
she had looked wounded, leaving him at the café alone to ponder
what had possessed him to say such things to her and why he had
decided to once again intervene in her destructive relationship
with her ex-lover.
Duty.
In part
it was a lie to say he did these things out of his sense of duty,
but it was also his shield and he would not cast it
aside.
The dying
rays of the sun warmed his skin, the lingering heat of the day
cocooning him in a soft breeze that stirred his soul as he watched
the sun set over London. It was growing late. Time had passed
quickly while he had been lost in his thoughts, hidden away from
the hustle and bustle of the mortal realm far below him, and he
still hadn’t found the answers to the questions that plagued him.
Questions about his mission had been joined by ones about Amelia
and her feelings for him.
Why would
a beautiful mortal female look upon him with such
desire?
Marcus
looked down at his hands and turned them palm up. These hands had
killed many in the line of duty, harvesting souls of sinners and
detaining them for judgement. In times past, when wars had been
frequent, he had reaped battlefields and cities alike in the name
of Heaven, following orders to the letter to assist the angels of
death in their mission, never once feeling remorse over his
actions.
Until
now.
He had
told her to keep away from him.
She
deserved better than a man who had killed so many of her kind
without flinching.
A role he
would gladly resume once his current mission had come to an
end.
He was no
better than those men who had hurt her.
If
anything, he was worse.
For all
their noise and disgraceful behaviour, none of them had ever taken
the life of another mortal. Amelia believed him good and kind,
thought that he was different to the men she had previously been
intimate with, but she would never see him that way if she knew the
things he had done in his past, in the time before he had lost his
wings.
Since
being cursed, he had led a different life. Wars had become less
frequent and the angels of death had no longer required outside
assistance from the other branches of angels in Heaven. His kind,
the guardians, had returned to their normal duties, shepherding
souls and protecting Heaven, or watching over the mortals, both in
the present and in the future.
He had
never seen the single pool which held the future. Only a few angels
were allowed entry to the room containing it in the grand palatial
house of Heaven, and those angels were sworn to silence, allowed
only to speak to their superior, who in turn relayed necessary
information on critical events to other high ranking
angels.
His
superior included.
Which led
Marcus to believe that he was aware of what fate awaited
Amelia.
Marcus
curled his fingers into fists and frowned at the vambraces
protecting his forearms, watching the way the sunlight danced
across the blue armour and reflected off the silver raised edges
and the silver buckles on the leather straps against his
underarms.
There was
something freeing about changing out of his mortal appearance and
donning his armour. He felt closer to home again and distant from
the goings on of the mortal world around him. He shrugged his
shoulders, raising the blue breastplate of his armour and exposing
his bare stomach, and then stretched his arms out at his sides and
closed his eyes as he unfurled his wings.
Warm
summer air tickled his silvery-blue feathers, teasing his senses,
and he basked in the sunlight, absorbing the heat and allowing it
to relax him and chase away his troubled thoughts.
He was a
soldier.
Soldiers
followed their orders.
He didn’t
have to think. He just had to follow orders and his mission would
be over.
Marcus
opened his eyes and looked at the infinite sky. The pale blue dome
turned to green and then hues of orange near the horizon, scattered
with ribbons of cloud that caught the fading sunlight and burned
gold and pink. It was beautiful and this evening it would be his
playground again, his world in which he would immerse himself to
escape the mortal realm and find peace for a few brief hours. He
would fly until he ached from the exertion, until he couldn’t beat
his wings one last time, and then he would return to his apartment
and sleep until morning finally came.
Free of
this world.
Five
centuries without wings and every day had been torture.
He beat
his wings and lifted off the tarred roof only to be struck by a
shaft of brilliant white light.
Marcus
closed his eyes and waited for the tingling sensation caused by the
light to pass before opening them again.
He sighed
at the sight of the white double doors ahead and the reception room
surrounding him.
All he
had wanted was to fly for a while. Couldn’t they have waited? By
the time they returned him, it would be deep night. These things
never moved swiftly and while they could return him to the same
moment they had taken him, they never did.
Marcus
pushed the double doors open and marched straight to the dock,
facing the same three angels who had questioned him the last time
they had brought him here.
“There
has been a development.” His superior sat at the head of the
triangle closest to Marcus, his sandy hair as neat as his blue
armour and the large silver-blue wings tucked against his
back.
The dark
haired mediator and white-blond haired angel of death murmured in
agreement.
“May I
ask what this development is?” Marcus hid none of his displeasure
at having his plans for the evening ruined. They had brought him
here and he would make the most of it. While they hadn’t answered
direct questions about his mission, perhaps they would answer one
about the date of the event if he asked it in such a way that
linked it to this development. “Does it mean my mission will end
soon?”
All three
angels nodded.
“Your
final task approaches.” There was no lie in his superior’s
expression, or that of the other two angels. “Soon your mission
will end, Marcus.”
“You have
been patient in your duty and we appreciate everything you have
done for us. Once this final task has been completed, you will be
free to return to Heaven.” The mediator to his superior’s left
smiled at him and then looked across at the angel of
death.
“You must
be relieved to know that your final task will be over soon and you
can return home,” the white-blond haired man said.
Marcus
nodded and his shoulders relaxed with the relief that swept through
him but he didn’t quite feel as he had expected to on hearing such
good news. There was something about the appearances of all three
angels, and the soft way they spoke to him, that set him on edge
and filled his head with more questions than ever
before.
“What is
my final task?” All three angels had mentioned it so all three knew
what it was, but the moment the question left his lips, their
expressions turned stony and closed.
“You will
find out soon enough.” His superior leaned back in his chair on the
raised platform. The other two angels seated slightly behind him
looked at each other and then at his superior, and then at
Marcus.
“In the
meantime, you must continue to protect her from the world.” Those
words leaving the mediator’s lips startled Marcus into looking
straight at him.