Nobody's Angel (The Earth Angels) by Stacy Gail Page B
Authors: Stacy Gail
here until I know it’s safe for you to return to the city.”
“Wait.” Horrified that he would just take off—literally—Kendall discovered her feet still worked when she sprang forward. “I don’t think you know what you’re dealing with when it comes to that geist, and...you...” She gulped, because she suddenly realized she was a thin hair away from hyperventilating. “You have wings.”
Really, it had to be said.
Before her eyes, the cloak of night pulled around him like a blanket until she could barely see him. Obviously, that was another one of his spiffy hidden talents. “Yeah.”
“You fly.”
“Not for pleasure. I do it only in cases of extreme emergency.”
“But...seriously, you frigging fly . With wings.”
“I don’t know how else to do it.”
If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was laughing at her. “And your eyes glow, and you have white fire coming from your hands when you’re pissed off.” She pressed the heels of her hands to her forehead to make the madness stop. It didn’t help. “What are you?”
“A mistake.” There was no laughter in his tone now, and the darkness around him grew to an almost tangible density. “You might as well make yourself at home since you’re going to be staying awhile. My grandfather had this place built out here on the Farallon Islands after he worked a deal with a government pal who owed him. To the rest of the world, it’s believed nuclear waste was dumped all along this stretch of the Farallones during the fifties and sixties, but I promise you that’s not the case. You won’t find another living soul for miles, unless you count the sea lions, orcas and great whites. You’ll be fine.”
That sounded so much like farewell she couldn’t help but reach out to him. “Wait—”
“Haven’t you seen enough, Kendall?” He rounded on her so abruptly she nearly stumbled in her haste to stop. “Do you want to see more of the freak show? Do you want to keep looking at me with a terrified expression that says I’m the most wrong thing you’ve ever laid eyes on? Is that what you want to do?”
“No,” she said with forced calm, if only because his words—too accurate for her to deny—slapped her out of her shock better than any hand across the face. “I’m not going to apologize for being stunned. You might be used to having some extra spice in your anatomy, but I’m going to need more than a handful of minutes to make sure I haven’t lost my very last marble. Find a way to cope with that.”
The darkness swirled around him, ominous and impenetrable, before he growled out a sigh. “Fair enough. And for what it’s worth, it’s your world that’s gone crazy, not you.”
“You might not be so sure once I tell you what I think is going on.”
“What do you mean?”
She fished out her phone. “Do you get reception here?”
“Of course.”
Of course. She shook her head and tapped the screen. What sort of secret stronghold would it be for a winged avenger if it didn’t have awesome cell phone reception? “The first and second murder-suicides have one person in common, a young man by the name of James Denton—college student, amateur artist and Internet rapper-wannabe. I spent all day researching him online, and in addition to some emo-gangsta rap lyrics about sucking living souls out of human bodies and feasting on their emotions like the psychic vampire he is, I was particularly interested with his Divine Art site.”
“His what?”
“Divine Art is a hosting Web site where artists from all mediums post their work. And James Denton’s site is an eyeful.” Finding the correct file, she closed the distance separating them and leaned close to show him the screen. “Denton’s called this piece The First Time , and posted it a year ago. I could be wrong in my interpretation, but it seems to me this painting depicts a soul being pulled out of this person here, who looks like she’s falling to the floor in a
“Wait.” Horrified that he would just take off—literally—Kendall discovered her feet still worked when she sprang forward. “I don’t think you know what you’re dealing with when it comes to that geist, and...you...” She gulped, because she suddenly realized she was a thin hair away from hyperventilating. “You have wings.”
Really, it had to be said.
Before her eyes, the cloak of night pulled around him like a blanket until she could barely see him. Obviously, that was another one of his spiffy hidden talents. “Yeah.”
“You fly.”
“Not for pleasure. I do it only in cases of extreme emergency.”
“But...seriously, you frigging fly . With wings.”
“I don’t know how else to do it.”
If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was laughing at her. “And your eyes glow, and you have white fire coming from your hands when you’re pissed off.” She pressed the heels of her hands to her forehead to make the madness stop. It didn’t help. “What are you?”
“A mistake.” There was no laughter in his tone now, and the darkness around him grew to an almost tangible density. “You might as well make yourself at home since you’re going to be staying awhile. My grandfather had this place built out here on the Farallon Islands after he worked a deal with a government pal who owed him. To the rest of the world, it’s believed nuclear waste was dumped all along this stretch of the Farallones during the fifties and sixties, but I promise you that’s not the case. You won’t find another living soul for miles, unless you count the sea lions, orcas and great whites. You’ll be fine.”
That sounded so much like farewell she couldn’t help but reach out to him. “Wait—”
“Haven’t you seen enough, Kendall?” He rounded on her so abruptly she nearly stumbled in her haste to stop. “Do you want to see more of the freak show? Do you want to keep looking at me with a terrified expression that says I’m the most wrong thing you’ve ever laid eyes on? Is that what you want to do?”
“No,” she said with forced calm, if only because his words—too accurate for her to deny—slapped her out of her shock better than any hand across the face. “I’m not going to apologize for being stunned. You might be used to having some extra spice in your anatomy, but I’m going to need more than a handful of minutes to make sure I haven’t lost my very last marble. Find a way to cope with that.”
The darkness swirled around him, ominous and impenetrable, before he growled out a sigh. “Fair enough. And for what it’s worth, it’s your world that’s gone crazy, not you.”
“You might not be so sure once I tell you what I think is going on.”
“What do you mean?”
She fished out her phone. “Do you get reception here?”
“Of course.”
Of course. She shook her head and tapped the screen. What sort of secret stronghold would it be for a winged avenger if it didn’t have awesome cell phone reception? “The first and second murder-suicides have one person in common, a young man by the name of James Denton—college student, amateur artist and Internet rapper-wannabe. I spent all day researching him online, and in addition to some emo-gangsta rap lyrics about sucking living souls out of human bodies and feasting on their emotions like the psychic vampire he is, I was particularly interested with his Divine Art site.”
“His what?”
“Divine Art is a hosting Web site where artists from all mediums post their work. And James Denton’s site is an eyeful.” Finding the correct file, she closed the distance separating them and leaned close to show him the screen. “Denton’s called this piece The First Time , and posted it a year ago. I could be wrong in my interpretation, but it seems to me this painting depicts a soul being pulled out of this person here, who looks like she’s falling to the floor in a