Read Earth Angel (Falling Angels Saga) Online
Authors: E. Van Lowe
“Guy’s not like that,” I said softly.
A short burst from the Mustang’s horn interrupted our exchange. Tran looked darkly toward the car. “He will bring you nothing but trouble.”
“Look, I know you’re only trying to look out for me. But Guy is my boyfriend. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
He shot me a look that suggested he didn’t think I could. “Okay,” he said with a sigh. “See you Monday. And study-up! We need you to win state.” With those words, Tran and the other math geeks headed back across the lawn toward the student parking lot.
I smiled as I resumed walking toward the car. My boyfriend was picking me up after school. No biggy.
As I got closer I realized there was a man in the passenger seat. They both climbed out. I watched the man unfold himself out of the car. He was about twenty-one,very tall and limber, with chiseled features that had just the right amount of soft edges. The word
heartbreaker
came to mind. His long blond hair was tied back into a pony tail. He smiled when he saw me coming. There was a bit of flirtation in his smile that made me uneasy.
“Hi, Guy,” I said, looking past him. “What a pleasant surprise. Thanks for picking me up.” I rushed around to the driver’s side and collapsed into his arms. He greeted me with a kiss that was soft and sweet and took my breath away.
“Get a room, fer Chrissake!” the tall man said in an accent I believed to be Australian. Guy laughed.
“Megan, I want you to meet a friend of mine,” he said as he released me.
“Is this Rocky?” I kept my arm around Guy’s waist as I extended my other hand. I wanted him to know I was spoken for. He wore blood red jeans that somehow looked good on him, with scuffed black cowboy boots.
“Rocky, eh? That’s a nice enough name, but no, the name’s not Rocky.” He glanced at Guy with what I took to be a sneaky smile. I didn’t like it.
“This is Harrison,” Guy said quickly.
“Oh. Sorry. Hello, Harrison.”
I was caught off guard as it dawned on me Guy had more than just the one angel friend. But of course he did. I felt so stupid. I realized then Guy never talked about his friends, or what he did when we weren’t together.
“In our world, Harrison is what’s known as a tracker. He’s been… watching you.”
Harrison had brilliant hazel eyes that I’m sure had the desired effect on most girls. I didn’t like the familiar way he was looking at me with those brilliant eyes. “Watching me? Why?” I began to bristle.
“It seems yer bein’ stalked,” Harrison said. The accent could have been quite sexy, and yet on him it was annoying.
“Umm, if you’re referring to Erin, I am aware of it. I saw her in my garden a few nights ago. She left a dead bird. I guess she’s trying to send me some kind of message. It’s no big deal.”
Another look passed between them.
“Yer not bein’ stalked by a mortal, luv,” said Harrison. “Yer bein’ stalked by a demon.”
On the ride home, Guy explained that while he was out of town for the weekend, he had asked Harrison to watch over me. On several occasions over the weekend Harrison had observed a demon stalking me, but he was unable to trap it.
I was in the passenger seat. Harrison had folded himself neatly into the tight back seat. No complaints. At least not from him. I was full of complaints.
“What do you mean you asked him to watch over me? I don’t need anyone watching over me!”
I honestly think the anger was a defense mechanism—a way for me not to face the fact that a demon from hell was after me. I recalled Erin’s words from the dream.
This isn’t over, witch!
“Beggin’ yer pardon, Megan, but it’s a good thing yer fella there called upon me. An Ibwa may be a lesser demon, but to a mortal he’s still quite dangerous.” I didn’t like the way Harrison said my name.
“Did you keep him from killing me?” I squawked. I looked at him in the rear view mirror. He was staring at me all smug and self-righteous.
“Yes. In a sense I did,” he responded.
“Thank you. But now Guy is back. So, I guess we don’t need you anymore.”
“Don’t be rude,” said Guy, sounding embarrassed for me.
“What’s rude is having someone watch over me without letting me know. It’s creepy!”
He let out a long, slow breath. “I didn’t want anything to happen to you while I was away, Megan.” His voice softened. He seemed hurt by my attitude. “I’m sorry if it bothers you.” This last part was a near whisper.
Great!
I thought. Now I was feeling worse for jumping down his throat, when all he was trying to do was protect me. I again looked at Harrison in the rear view. I knew his type—handsome, thinks he’s God’s gift to women. From the look of him, he also thought he was charming and irresistible. He wasn’t. Angel or not, he wasn’t.
“Mortals,” he snorted in his infernal accent.
My head whipped around like that girl in
The Exorcist
. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded, my nostrils flaring.
“Mortals can be quite emotional,” he replied without backing down. “Sorry if I offended ya,” he said with fake remorse. His eyes softened. It was a trick. I didn’t fall for it.
“Harrison needs to stay around a little while longer, Megan. He is trained to track demons,” Guy said seriously. “This one needs to be captured.”
“Destroyed, is more like it,” Harrison rasped. He seemed to enjoy his work.
I nodded, and my skin began to feel cold and clammy. It was finally sinking in how lucky I was that the demon hadn’t already attacked. I thought of Erin. When she was in my garden the demon could have attacked her as well—if indeed it
was
Erin that had been in my garden.
“No worries. I won’t be poppin’ up on ya or anythin’. Since the Ibwa is a lesser demon, if he’s hidin’ somewhere nearby when I’m around, I’ll command him to come out. A lesser demon must answer to those who are more powerful. Once I call him out, I will destroy him, and he won’t be botherin’ ya anymore.”
I looked at Guy. For the first time I allowed the seriousness of what I’d heard to wash over me. “This sounds dangerous.”
“It is,” he said somberly. He reached into my lap, found my hand and squeezed it. His touch was comforting.
I was trying not to freak out. My research had told me there were over two hundred different demons, from lesser demons with no real supernatural powers, to higher demons who were almost as powerful as Satan himself. The Ibwa was a lesser demon. I tried convincing myself this was good news.
“Why do you think a demon would be stalkin’ ya?” Harrison asked, his gaze stabbing into me.
“How would I know? Maybe Satan sent him. I did jilt him, you know.”Just then I was starting to get an antsy feeling.
He considered my response. “No, I don’t think so. I get the sense he’s searchin’ for something. Any idea what that might be?”
The Mustang pulled up to the curb in front of my house. I flung the door open and jumped out, avoiding Harrison’s gaze. I needed to get away from them as quickly as possible. I had an idea of what the Ibwa might be looking for, and I wasn’t ready to share.
“Wait!” Guy called as I started up the walk. He got out and came around to the passenger side. “Let me walk you to your door.”
“Okay,” I replied, a clipped response. Normally the idea of a boy walking me to my door would have been
très
romantic. But not today. We started walking. I kept my eyes straight ahead.
“Megan, he—”
“I don’t like him!” I blurted.
“I think you made that abundantly clear,” Guy responded. He had the cutest smile playing on his lips. It was hard to be mad with him smiling that way.
“I mean… he doesn’t act like an angel. He’s so full of himself.”
“He’s good at what he does, Megan.”
“Why did you ask
him
to watch over me?”I was still quite emotional.
“After what you went through with Satan, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t a target for other demons.”
I breathed. “I didn’t mean to jump all over you,” I said softening.“This whole thing caught me off guard.”I returned his smile with a weak one of my own.
We stopped walking. He gazed at me, his eyes smoldering. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me.”
I started walking again. He grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me around, facing him. “You don’t know that!” he replied. His words were anguished.
He continued peering at me, his eyes slowly softening, and a subtle sweetness settled over him. “I’m not a mortal, Megan, but if something ever happened to you, I think I would die.”
My breathing hitched for the second time that day. What do you say when the boy you love is expressing his feelings for you, and you feel exactly the same way? I moved into his arms.
“Nothing’s going to happen to me. I promise,” I replied in a reassuring whisper.
“Hey, Megan!” Harrison called, obliterating our moment of bliss. He was now standing at the curb next to the Mustang, an ingratiating smile on his lips. “Nice meetin’ ya.”
#
Reluctantly, Guy left me at my door. He wanted to stay until Suze came home, but I knew if she walked in and saw him sitting in our living room on a school day it would open up a whole different can of worms. Thankfully, Harrison convinced him they were better off hunting the Ibwa than standing idle. I didn’t like Harrison, but I was grateful he got Guy to leave.
I watched the Mustang pulling away from the curb, a chill settling over me like a net. It was the same chill I’d had when Armando promised he’d pay me back for throwing holy water on him the night of the party.
After making sure all the doors and windows were locked, I went to my room to see if anything had been disturbed. I sat down at my old computer, the one that had been trashed by Armando. The keyboard and monitor were still on my desk, the unplugged CPU still on the floor underneath. My new laptop lay on the nightstand by my bed. I eyed my old CPU, ran my fingers gently along the old keyboard, memories of my ordeal with the devil flooding in.
I thought it was over. I had hoped and prayed all the demonic trouble that had plagued my life with the arrival of Armando was over. Matt had given his life so that it would be over. The chill I had been feeling earlier now crept into my bones. It wasn’t over.
I had thirty-seven new Facebook friend requests.
#
We hadn’t visited Aunt Jaz in three weeks. I knew I couldn’t show up empty handed, so I bought her a crock pot as a token of my appreciation for all she had done in getting me prepared for my battle with the devil. I didn’t know if Aunt Jaz had a crock pot or not, but I figured with as much cooking as she did, she could always use another one.
On the ride over, Maudrina talked about the boy she’d met at The Explosion.
“Curtis called,” she said. “Actually he’s called twice.”
“Really?” I was surprised. It’s not that Maudrina isn’t cute. She’s very cute—but she’s not a member of the Poplarati.
Curtis didn’t go to G.U. He attended Jennings, a snooty private school for the sons and daughters of the valley’s rich.
“Just be careful,” I said. You never know with rich kids. It’s not uncommon for rich boys to date outside their circle for one thing and one thing only.
“Yes, Mommy,” she drawled playfully.
When Aunt Jaz opened the door, a delicious fragrance thick with spice wafted out to us. “What is that heavenly aroma?” asked Maudrina, peeking in over her aunt’s shoulder.
“When you told me you were bringing a special guest, I started whipping up a batch of my famous shrimp creole.” She engulfed Maudrina in one of her big bear hugs.
Aunt Jaz was looking retro-stylish in a navy blue fifties-style dress featuring a flared skirt with big white polka dots. She moved to me.
“Hi, Aunt Jaz. Why are you all dressed up?” Her hair was cut into a short, neat fifties style with a slight curl at the ends. The woman loved living in the past.
“This old thing? Trust me, deary, you’ll know when I get dressed up.” She let out her big boisterous laugh. “You like shrimp creole?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never had it.”
“Then you are in for a treat. I do believe this is my best batch ever.”
“You tell us that every time you cook,” said Maudrina her eyes crinkling.
“That’s because the older I get, the better I cook.” Aunt Jaz erupted into more raucous laughter.
The apartment smelled even better inside. There were two pots on the turn-of-the-century stove. The larger one I’d seen in use when she was making soup, along with a smaller pot, both with steam rising from under their lids.
The kitchen was as I remembered, a collage of green with a distinctive sixties feel. Maudrina and I sat at the dinette that was several odd shades of green, while Aunt Jaz moved to the stove to check on the shrimp creole. She lifted the lid on the big pot and a cloud of steam escaped to the ceiling. She took a sniff. “Almost done,” she called.
When she joined us at the dinette, I held the shopping bag out to her.
“What’s this?”
“A gift. For you. For all your help.”
“Oh, my goodness!”Her hands went to her chest in surprise. “Come here, you!” She yanked me up, pulling me into one of her bear hugs. “You are just too special,” she said squeezing the breath out of me.
“You’re the special one,” I rasped, and she let go, realizing she was holding on too tight. “I’d probably be the devil’s bride right now if it weren’t for you.”
“Thank you,” she said modestly. “You are too kind.”
“Open it.” I was still holding onto the bag. She took it from my hands.
“If it’s all right with you, I’d like to wait a while. You’ve already given me a big ole thrill just by thinking of me. I’d like to open it in a day or two when the thrill has worn off, and then I get to have this good feeling all over again.”
“Okay, sure,” I replied. “Open it whenever you want.” Aunt Jaz was a strange woman, but strange in a good way. My mother would call her eccentric.
“So, I hear you’ve got a new problem.” Her expression turned serious. Aunt Jaz had a knack for changing the mood quickly.