Angel in Waiting
Table of Contents
Title Page
Praise for Sharon Saracino
Angel in Waiting
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Taking a deep breath,
Dimitri carefully lowered his arm and rested his hand on her nearly naked hip. Gritting his teeth against the silky texture of her skin, he pulled her into him. She sighed softly, and his heart twisted, battling a war between contentment and consternation. Elle Gates was human, fragile, doomed, her limited lifetime a blip on the radar of his long existence. Nothing but pain awaited him. And hell, considering she was human, there were no guarantees the bond had any effect on her at all. This attraction could be all one sided. Still, in this time, at this moment, he couldn’t deny it. Holding her in his arms and thinking of her as his felt…right.
Mac’s wife had put her faith in Dimitri to keep her friend safe, and he fully intended to do so. Even if he couldn’t quite decide whether his determination to protect her stemmed from his promise to Kat or his own desire. It was irrelevant at the moment. Something had this woman spooked enough to run from a successful career, everything and everyone she knew and loved, without a word. As the first faint fingers of dawn stole through the gap in the drapes and inched across the room toward the bed, Dimitri reluctantly disentangled himself from Elle’s arms and gathered up his things. With a lingering look at her peaceful face, he faded from the room with plenty of questions but absolutely no answers.
Praise for Sharon Saracino
“Sharon Saracino’s world of angels, archangels, witches, demons, and evil minions engages the reader from page one. Make no plans for your weekend—you won’t be able to put down any of these stories.”
~Sharon Buchbinder, Author, Obsession
Angel in Waiting
by
Sharon Saracino
The Earthbound Series, Volume 3
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Angel in Waiting
COPYRIGHT © 2015 by Sharon Saracino
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com
Cover Art by Debbie Taylor
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Fantasy Rose Edition, 2015
Print ISBN 978-1-62830-879-2
Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-880-8
The Earthbound Series, Volume 3
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my readers...you are all rock stars and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of your support!
~*~
And as always, to my Vince,
who makes everything I do possible.
Chapter One
Trapped in the darkest recesses of her mind, Elle Gates floundered in desperation, a prisoner in a circus of madness, imprisoned in the suffocating darkness of a dream that squeezed her heart and sucked at her soul. Scenes and sounds broke apart all around her and reconfigured like jagged pieces of glass scattered by an unseen hand across the vast nothingness of this smothering reality. Each piece reflected a strange face, a new horror. Her senses screamed as her body snagged on the sharp edged splinters of empty eyes and souls twisted in torment, leaving her cut and bleeding. And she was cold. As cold as death.
Trying to scream with a tongue knotted in fear, Elle watched helplessly as a glinting dagger whistled through the air, straight at her heart. The searing pain woke her, as sharp and real as the moment the blade had actually penetrated her flesh. She pressed a hand to her chest and found it damp. Though the wound was well healed, her skin remained moist with remembered terror.
The nightmare rarely varied and still she couldn’t separate her own memories from those of the demon who had possessed her. At least her father and his associates hadn’t made an appearance in the convoluted horrors tonight. For a moment she lay staring into the darkness, the pounding of her heart and her ragged breathing the only sounds disturbing the stillness. Her pulse slowly resumed a normal rhythm once she wakened and realized the demon was truly gone and she was free. Physically, at least. Some nights she wondered if her mind would ever truly belong to her again.
“What time is it?” she croaked. Though not a twitch of movement or a whisper of sound gave his presence away, she knew he was there. He was always there when she woke from the nightmares. Dimitri Radchenko, the Earthbound angel who’d been given the unenviable task of her care following the fiasco in Rome. Thanks to his medical skills and supernatural powers, Elle survived what she knew should have been a fatal injury.
Hot tears gathered beneath her lids. Elle could hardly blame her best friend’s husband, Kassian McAllister, for banishing her to the States with a complete stranger. After all, Elle had foolishly unleashed a demon, wreaked havoc across two continents, and buried Kassian’s sister, Callista McAllister, alive. Oh, yeah. Good times.
“Nearly seven. You slept almost six hours this time before the nightmare hit.”
“Well, isn’t that special? Yay, me,” Elle muttered, untangling her bare legs from the damp sheets. She slid from the bed, tugging the hem of her nightshirt down over her thighs. Waking up to a hulking, leather-clad giant in one’s room, night after night, should be unnerving. However, after the initial shock wore off, Elle came to depend on his quiet presence as an anchor to reality when she awoke in a state of panic.
As soon as she was well enough, she’d insisted on moving out of the McAllister’s New York penthouse, where Dimitri had originally taken her, and back to her own modest condo. That had been over three weeks ago. She’d expected it would be the end of her association with Dimitri. Yet, every time she woke from the nightmare in the dead of night, he was there. Waiting. Watching. She was grateful. Not that she was about to admit it. And she sure as hell wouldn’t attempt to explain it. Not even to herself.
“I made coffee.” The familiar creak of wood and leather in the darkness indicated Dimitri had risen from the small chair, which struggled to accommodate his massive size.
“Of course you did. You’re going to make somebody a great wife someday, Dimitri.”
Dimitri grunted in response. A triangular sliver of light pierced the darkened room as he opened the door into the hallway. Once he closed the door behind him, Elle clicked on the lamp and frowned. Her bed resembled a battlefield. She tried tugging the bedclothes into a semblance of order, then gave up with a resigned sigh, and headed for the bathroom.
Ten minutes and gallons of hot water later,
Elle felt almost human. After toweling off quickly, she tugged on a pair of comfortable jeans faded to a perfect blue and a simple black tee. Shunning make-up, she slicked her wet hair into a high ponytail. Following the scent of Columbian dark roast to her sleek, modern kitchen, she found Dimitri already perched at the breakfast bar with two steaming mugs, an open box of doughnuts, and the morning paper spread out in front of him.
He looked up as she entered and slid a mug across the dark granite counter in her direction.
“Thanks.” Elle perched a barstool away and took a large, healthy sip. He nudged the box in her direction, and she shook her head with a tired smile.
“I’ll pass. Maybe a guy your size can put away a dozen of those things a day, but just looking at them packs five pounds on my hips. I have to leave this apartment sometime. Since I can’t just dematerialize like you Earthbound guys do, I’ll still need to fit through the door.”
She pulled her cell phone across the counter and checked the display. Her agent had been ringing her phone off the hook, but Elle had nothing to say. All of her contractual obligations were met, and she hadn’t written a word since she’d sent off her last manuscript before the world crashed down around her. Dancing with a demon had sucked her soul dry of hearts, flowers, and happy-ever-afters.
That was bad enough, but the note that arrived yesterday was an even bigger game changer. While in possession of her body and her mind, the demon Azakriel had apparently found it necessary to contact her bastard father and share her whereabouts. She knew it was only a matter of time before he or one of his cronies came knocking on the door. Her freedom, and quite possibly her life, would be forfeit. After all these years, she’d dared to believe she could forget, could put it all behind her and live life as Elle Gates forever. A life made possible only by Kat’s generous nature in taking her at face value all those years ago. Deceit was a hell of a way to repay an unconditional friendship. But facts were facts, and apparently, you couldn’t escape them, no matter how fast you ran or how cleverly you thought you’d concealed them. If her father came calling, not only would the monstrous truth of her origins be revealed, her lies would be exposed, and everyone she cared about would be at risk simply by association. It was time to go.
“Your hips look fine to me.” Dimitri’s dark eyes regarded her over the rim of his coffee cup, briefly flicking up and down, before glancing away. “In fact, if anything, you’ve lost weight.”
“Ah, the magic words every woman lives to hear,” Elle forcibly dragged her thoughts back to the present, batted her lashes and smiled, giving in to temptation and snagging a chocolate glazed. “So what’s on your agenda for the day?”
“Depends. What’s on yours?”
“Well,” Elle chewed thoughtfully, swallowed a bite of doughnut, and washed it down with a sip of coffee. “Suppose I said I planned to clean the bathroom and then curl up with a good book?”
“In that case, I’d say I’m heading uptown to meet with Mac and then crashing at my place for a couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep. I’d also say I’m suffering from a serious case of déjà vu since I’m pretty sure you’ve said the same damn thing every day this week. How much cleaning can a twenty-five square foot bathroom used by one small woman require?”
“Cleanliness is next to godliness, Big Guy. McAllister, huh? So, I guess they’re back.” Elle slid from the stool and moved stiffly around the breakfast bar. Rinsing a sponge in the black farmhouse sink, she turned her back to him, and began furiously scrubbing the already spotless counters.
“Well, in that case, you’re a shoe-in for sainthood. You have to deal with Kat sometime, you know.” Dimitri reached around her to snag the coffeepot and refill his cup. She hadn’t even heard him move. For a man who was the size of a mountain, he moved with the stealth and grace of a jungle cat. Elle gripped the sponge so hard she risked tearing it in half. Thinking Dimitri had returned to his seat, she spun around and gasped as she found herself staring at a broad, muscular chest straining the confines of his black tee. She stepped back automatically, but there was nowhere to go. Trapped between him and the counter, she tilted her head back to look at him.
“Not yet.” She dropped her eyes, unable to hold his gaze. Once she was gone, it wouldn’t matter anymore. Better she disappear and allow Kat and the others to believe she was a coward too ashamed to face them after her idiocy, than stick around and cause more pain.
A thick, calloused finger caught her under the chin and forced her eyes up. Her mouth went dry. Dimitri Radchenko with his long hair, dark eyes, and high Slavic cheekbones looked like a biker who’d gotten on the wrong side of a bar fight. His long, straight nose shadowed a pair of full, well-formed lips that had a tendency to twist into a grimace at a moment’s notice. They were twisted now. The expression accentuated the wicked scar running along the right side of his face from his temple to the corner of his mouth, disguised somewhat by the thin line of neatly-manicured beard shadowing his jaw and upper lip. His appearance alone probably scared the living hell out of most people. But Elle had never been most people, and far from being intimidated by him, she found him uncomfortably appealing. Even now, though they barely touched, she imagined she felt his heat penetrating her clothes. Breathing deeply, she filled her lungs with the comfortable leather scent of him, pleasantly mingled with soap and herbal shampoo. Her pulse hitched, her breath quickened. Menacing or not, he incited a riot of feelings she didn’t want to examine too closely. One look into those deep brown eyes surrounded by long, dark lashes that had a tendency to tangle, and she didn’t see an edgy bad boy. She saw right into his soul. A soul crying out to hers.
“Shit!” His hand dropped away as though he’d been burned. He turned on his heel and stomped back to his barstool, placing the counter between them. Elle quickly shuttered her mind. Dimitri was an Earthbound, an order of angels cast from the heavens for sedition as Fallen millennia ago. A select few redeemed their souls by arbitrating an agreement to forfeit their wings and dedicate themselves to battling the evil ones on Earth. Like all Earthbound, Dimitri Radchenko could read the thoughts of anyone around him unless they knew how to block him. Elle learned to shield her mind years ago. Unfortunately, lately, she was so preoccupied she didn’t always remember to do so. Judging by his dark flush and darker expression, she’d been broadcasting loud and clear, and Dimitri didn’t agree with her assessment of his character.
“Don’t worry, Radchenko. Your secret’s safe with me.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I wouldn’t dream of besmirching your reputation. The fact that your Fallen slaying, bike riding, knife wielding, leather-clad ass is nothing but a front hiding a heart too big for your own good will stay just between us, m’kay?”
“You obviously have me confused with one of the characters from your books. I’m nobody’s hero, so don’t start thinking I am. And stop trying to change the subject. No one blames you for what happened except you. Kat sure as hell doesn’t, and according to Mac, she’s making herself sick with worry. If you really cared for her as much as you claim, you’d put her out of her misery and talk to her.”
“I buried McAllister’s sister alive, Dimitri. I tried to kill her. I hurt people I love, and God knows what else I may have done between the time I left Kat’s house in Pennsylvania and the time I arrived in Rome. What the hell am I supposed to say? Oopsie?” Elle had no real recollection of the days when the demon had inhabited her body—the particular demon she’d been naive enough to unleash used people’s hidden desires to obliterate the filter between right and wrong. She knew what happened in Rome only because she’d been told. Elle’s case of temporary lust for Kat’s brother, Luca, had almost cost Callista McAllister her life.
“You aren’t responsible for your actions while under the influence of a demon.”
“But I’m the one who set him free.” Elle threw the sponge into the sink where it landed with a sad, wet plop. Going through Kat’s things and opening the b
ook had been stupid and careless and self-serving. It was only right it should cost her something. But did it have to cost her everything?
“That was an accident,” Dimitri tipped back his mug and polished off his second cup.
“Yeah, that was an accident.” She hadn’t been looking to free a demon. She’d simply been trying to free herself. She blew out a long, slow breath. “Well, thanks for the coffee. Again. I’m not planning to leave the house, but honestly, Dimitri, I’m a big girl. If I do decide to go out, I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Didn’t say you did. But you’re fairly well known, and for all intents and purposes, you’ve gone from being someone who’s always been very visible to someone who hasn’t been seen in weeks. People are curious. Photographers are staking out the place. You might need someone to run interference.” He stood and stretched his arms over his head until his back audibly cracked. Elle lowered her eyes quickly when she realized he’d caught her staring at the rippling play of muscle under his tee. “You know how to get a hold of me if you need me.”
“Thanks, but I won’t.”
“Okay, see ya.” He departed with the same phrase every day, as though they might meet again, or they might not. Yet, every night he returned and parked himself in that chair, her reluctant Guardian Angel.
“Yep, see ya,” Elle replied with a casual wave. She refused to analyze the funny little pang twisting in her chest knowing it was a lie. When Dimitri returned tonight to watch over her, she would be long gone.
“What?” she asked when she realized Dimitri was still standing there regarding her with a puzzled expression and narrowed eyes. He didn’t answer, simply shook his head and disappeared.
The condo felt curiously empty when he’d left. She’d grown accustomed to having the big lug around, like a favorite robe or a comfortable pair of slippers. Or something. She realized with a sinking feeling that she would miss him. If only she’d come clean earlier. From the very beginning. Now the damage was done, and she couldn’t un-ring the bell. If her father showed up and the truth came out, Kat would never forgive her. None of them would.