Fall From Grace (9 page)

She cocked her head
to one side, thinking more about the connection between Trick and
his Master than demonic politics. “Do the two of you share a blood
bond? You and your boss.”

“How do you know
about that?” He was surprised. Her connection as an Avenging Angel
was very much to the natural world – despite her spiritual
state.

“I saw it in a
movie.” And she had.

“Well, the
screenwriter had it right. To take on my powers I drank his blood
and to seal the contract he took mine. Quite a lot.”

“So you're
linked.”

And he understood.
His Master killed those guarding the relic in Hungary himself,
knowing an Angel would be sent. The Death Mark would sense the
blood and seek Trick out, bringing him or her right to their
trap.

No one could have
predicted what had happened next.

Not the demon who
held his soul prisoner and certainly not Trick.

His heart, which had
been racing when the Angel appeared in front of him on the beach
with her flaming sword, began to pound again. This time for a very
different reason. Just like in the bar, he felt the attraction
pulling him towards her. She was too far away. He moved closer,
walking across the loose sand, needing to touch her.

Warily, Evie inched
back on her perch. One of the rocks shifted and losing her balance,
she started to fall. In an eye-blurring burst of speed, before she
could even flap her wings, he was there, catching her up in his
arms.

Holding her tightly,
he stared into her eyes. They were the color of antique mahogany,
each iris edged in gold. The gold seemed to flare and burn with a
tiny heavenly fire just like her sword.

She didn't struggle
against him, saying only, “Put me down.”

He set her in the
sand. They were standing very close. The Reaper didn't smell like
smoke any more.

For the space of
several breaths they stood there, moved yet unmoving.

She was glowing.
Trick saw it, could almost touch it. That pure, clean light. With
her he felt like the man he had once been, his humanity so
tantalizingly within reach. Perhaps that was why he was attracted
to the Angel.

Was she
redemption?

He had such layers of
darkness. If she looked into his eyes with that uncanny vision of
hers, she would see them. Could she burn them away? Make him clean
again?

He reflected back on
his life since he sold his soul. The terrible things he had seen
and done. No, there was no way to erase that. She would see. Evie
would hate him. What had he been thinking. How could he even touch
her with these hands?

Feeling dirty and
ashamed, he began to walk away. He would run. To Gogmagog. She
could not follow him there. Maybe his master would give him another
chance. Find a different Angel. He probably could make himself do
it. He could. He had done such dark deeds. Yet he couldn't kill
this one. No matter what the consequences.

Evie was the one who
set all that was to come in motion. She shivered, fright and flight
raging in her heart in equal measure yet unable to stop. Woman now,
not Angel. Enchanted, spellbound; her will no longer felt under her
control. It was like being alive again. Evie was crossing a line,
she knew it. Whether it was the right decision for all the wrong
reasons as she had told the young Guardian Angel or the wrong
decision for all the right reasons, she didn't know. At this moment
in time, it was the only one she could make.

She reached out,
grasping his wide palm with her slim fingers and pulled him back
beside her. She ran her fingertips along the line of his jaw. His
skin was hot to the touch. He stiffened, almost, though not quite
pulling back. He could have resisted. Jerked out of her grasp and
jumped away.

He did not.

He came to her with
almost a moan of surrender.

Trick reached up, putting his hands on her shoulders, running
his fingers along the thick bones of her wings. Swallowing his
doubts, he met her eyes. Let her see the raw emotion raging inside.
His need. His longing for what he could not,
should
not have. Ever.

What she saw in his
face only fueled her own desire. Tilting her head, Evie brushed her
lips feather soft along his cheek, feeling the rough stubble of a
night's growth. He smelled clean and strong and pure, no longer
brimstone, only the searing desert heat of the canyon floor. Was it
his magic or her own that held her here? She dropped her sword and
unbuckled her belt to gather him closer, crushing her breasts
against his chest, feeling his arms tighten with equal longing.

She was Earthbound
and down. Falling, falling into such sweet sin. Flexing her
beautiful white wings, she brought them around to shield them both
from the worlds above and below.

Almost hesitantly their lips sought each
other's. The complete vulnerability of that first kiss held them,
each helpless to defend themselves. Dead or alive or somewhere in
between, they could no longer stop even if they wanted to.

Evie felt the shape
of his mouth, the sensuous lift to his upper lip before Trick could
hold back no longer. He had to taste her, feel her tongue dancing
with his. Hesitantly, then with growing confidence, he pressed his
mouth to hers. The passion was so strong she could taste it on his
lips, savor it running down her throat.

He burned and she
burned with him.

Tugging at the velcro
straps, her top came away in Trick's hands. His Master's own Death
Mark glowed bright crimson on one round, full breast. A mark she
could not see. He covered it with his mouth, kissing the evil away.
Sealing his own fate. Her boots and leggings came off and he paused
to stare. How perfect is a woman's body to a man, he thought.
Breasts, belly and below, like a ripe peach peaking out from
between soft, round thighs. Was there anything more beautiful? Then
she was tugging at his jeans, sliding them down, revealing his
desire for her hard and strong, knocking against his flat belly.
She touched him, running her long fingers across the skin and he
moaned. The feel of her touch set off waves of bliss that rippled
across his body, surging in waves of pleasure.

Under her hands, he
throbbed. Evie pressed herself to him, pushing against his belly.
Holding tightly, he turned her around, her back against him. Trick
ran his hands over her breasts, feeling the full heavy flesh nestle
into each palm, lightly stroking her as she sighed with
pleasure.

He pushed her against
the rocks so she supported herself on her hands. Spreading her
thighs, he ran his fingertips through the exquisitely soft skin,
gently touching her as his lips played over her neck and shoulders.
She lifted herself higher, arching her back instinctively so he
could reach further. For a time he just stroked her, running his
mouth over the soft skin of her back, around her wing bones,
feeling her shivers of anticipation.

Evie moaned, low and
long, reveling in the delirious sensations of his breath, lips,
tongue, and fingers playing over her. His tongue circled and
darted; his hot breath making her shiver, the tantalizing touch of
his fingers setting off a chain reaction of sensation that swiftly
built to explosive levels. Turning her to face him, he slowly slid
down to his knees in the sand. Nipping at her, blowing and
circling, he could feel her excitement building, taste the sweet
essence. She began to cry out, quick sharp bursts that sounded
almost like cries of pain. But they were not. The pleasure surged
from to every part of her body and she clutched at the rocks to
keep from falling, her legs suddenly weak. He thrust his tongue
further, into that beautiful secret place and the feelings built
again to an unbearable level.

Crying out, she
suddenly could not stand and falling, he caught her, her wings
trailing in the sand. Trick kicked out his jacket and shirt, making
a small nest for them and laid her down. Running his hands between
her thighs.

Such intimacy. They
were beyond human and it was terrifying how they must reveal
themselves to each other. There was no hiding. Not their strengths,
nor their weaknesses. She saw his desire, felt the urgency and fear
pounding in his blood. She reached out. He gasped as she guided him
to her, wanting to fill her and complete this perfect storm of
emotion no matter the consequences. He moved, lithe and sinuous
between her legs, pressing them wider with his own strong thighs.
Trailing one hand over her eyes, along her cheek and throat, Trick
felt the pulse racing there. Across the sensuous curves of her
breasts and waist, then down to the swell of her belly. Her hands
on him, she pulled him closer, guiding him to where he so rightly
belonged. Those sweet lips parted for him and leaning closer, he
kissed her, his tongue in her mouth. She tasted the shadow of her
desire on him and it excited her. Their tongues danced back and
forth as he inched closer to the well of her desire.

Man and woman fit
together with such exquisite symmetry. A perfection of form that
went so far beyond function. Anyone who doubted God's existence has
never really made love. He pressed forward, feeling her stretch
around the size of him. There was no going back now. No retreat for
either of them.

Evie pulled him to
her. He broke through and she cried out, as though she was a virgin
again, pain as swift and sharp as a knife blade shooting through
her. She almost pushed him away, she did not think she could take
him in. Rising up, he towered over her, his handsome face staring
down, brows drawn together in concentration. Hot and hard, the skin
burned as they came together, inch by inch. Her wings flexed back
and forth, carving out deep grooves in the sand. He pushed forward,
his eyes never leaving her face. Relentlessly taking possession,
burying himself deeper and deeper still, beyond her body and into
her heart.

Overcome, she sobbed,
wanting him so very much despite the pain. Damning herself or him,
it didn't matter. Flexing her wings, she pushed her torso up to
meet him, kissing him hungrily. As she did, she felt the sweet
release of tension. With a wild cry of elation, he was fully within
her.

An indescribable
pleasure filled her body. A fullness of being that went so far
beyond mere physical sensation. The perfect balance of tension and
release. He began to rock, moving his hips to the rhythm of this
dance. Her hips followed his, shadowing every movement and together
they stepped effortlessly into a choreography laid out so long
ago.

Trick felt her
muscles clenched around him, silk and steel in equal measure as he
moved. He fell upon her with his lips, kissing every part of her he
could reach: her mouth, her eyes, the arch of her white throat, the
tiny curve of her ears. Stroking and touching, needing to memorize
every part of her body, overcome not with what he had done but the
fact he would never be allowed to do it again.

Their first and last
time together.

His Master would damn
him for this, chain him in a place where the release of death was
only a vain hope. He didn't care. Trick held his Angel, her nails
digging into his back, pushing and pulling within that velvet
sheath again and again. He would hold this memory to him in the
agony to come.

Falling, falling.
Earthbound and down.

Rising high on his
hips, pressing against her and the sweet spot he knew was waiting
there, he increased the rhythm, the muscles in his thighs clenched
tightly. Evie's breath came faster and faster until she could not
breath at all. The feelings building, cresting and crashing down.
Those sweet sensations filled her inside and out with an ecstasy so
primal she could not stop the tears coursing down her face. To feel
this here, now, with him. She had never thought or hoped for such a
thing after her transition. At that moment she at last understood
how two people could sacrifice everything for a few brief moments
together – as she had thrown aside her mandate to be with him.

A Reaper.

The Enemy.

He leaned down, his
cheek brushing hers, his words a whisper soft touch across her
lips; “Come again, come again my Angel.” And he moved hard and
deep, filling her to the brim with ecstasy until it ran over and
through her entire body stronger than the waves breaking on the
shore.

Evie stared up at
him. He seemed enormous from where she lay. The muscles in his
shoulders and arms knotted with tension, the flat lines of his
abdomen clenched tightly. She looked into his sea green eyes as
nothing except a woman. Trick couldn't wait any longer.

“Now,” he moaned,
“please, now.”

Holding him tightly,
Evie arched her back as he pressed into her faster and faster until
with a cry of defiance, he filled her. He rode it out, the ecstasy
lasting longer, so intense at the end he collapsed on top of her,
breathing hard and fast, the sweat running down his face. She held
him with her thighs and arms, still feeling him inside.

Earthbound and
down.

After a time, Trick
shifted his body, pulling her with him so they lay side by side in
the sand. He felt her muscles pulsing, every nerve alive.

The gulls were waking
up, calling out across the shallows.

“Why?” Evie
asked.

Trick understood what
she needed to know with that one word.

“My mama died young,
after she lost baby sister. I think she just gave up. The desert
can be a terrible place, especially on a woman. Daddy went a few
years later from bad water. One day Mathew, he was the oldest by a
couple of years, took two of the horses and rode east. That was the
last we ever saw of him. My older sister Missy married a boy from
town. Eventually just my little brother James and me were left on
the home place. James was a good boy and I saw in him the
possibility to become a great man. The teacher in town helped him
to get a scholarship. He was smarter than the whole family put
together. Hell, the whole town! Can you imagine in those days out
in the middle of nowhere, a chance to go to college back East? Then
he got bit by a sidewinder. A stupid accident. One careless moment
and those dreams were evaporating like a drop of water in the hot
sun. Did I mention how much I hate the desert?”