Her Guardian Angel 4-Her Angel Series

Her Guardian Angel

A simple mission becomes a fight for survival in this
fantastic instalment in the Her Angel series.

A guardian angel dedicated to his duty, Marcus will do
whatever Heaven asks of him, but even his loyalty has its limits.
When his superior orders him to gain Amelia’s trust through
seduction, Marcus starts to question his mission and his feelings
for the beautiful woman he has watched over since her
birth.

Amelia has gone from one bad relationship to another, so when
a gorgeous guy moves in next door looking like Mr Right, she hopes
he doesn’t turn out to be another black knight in disguise. But
there’s more to Marcus than meets the eye, and when he rescues her
from three demonic men, Amelia is thrust into his nightmarish
world—a world where God and the Devil exist, and only one angel can
save her from death—Marcus, the angel she’s falling in love
with.

On the run from demonic angels and the Devil himself, aided by
Marcus’s angel friends and their amazing women, fighting for
survival against the odds, Marcus and Amelia discover a love that
will last forever.

A love so strong it will shake Heaven and Hell.

Her Guardian Angel

Felicity Heaton

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 by Felicity Heaton

All
rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage
and retrieval system, without written permission from the author,
except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a
review.

****

Chapter 1

Marcus
stretched his left arm out above his head on the pillows of his
double bed, buried the fingers of his right hand into his overlong
black hair and stared into the inky dark of his bedroom. The open
window to his left allowed pale light to filter in from the street
far below but it barely cut through the gloom and it wasn’t the
reason he had lifted the sash around midnight. The stifling
summer’s day had given way to a humid night that showed no sign of
cooling down before dawn broke and heralded the next unbearably hot
day. A light breeze washed in through the open window, refreshing
him as it caressed the left side of his bare body. The heat wasn’t
the only thing robbing him of sleep.

The
banging came again, more persistent this time, and Marcus clenched
his teeth to contain his growing irritation, his focus wholly on
the hall outside his apartment. The man had been attacking the door
of his neighbour for almost twenty minutes now, rousing Marcus from
sleep and throwing him straight into a bad mood that had gradually
deteriorated into a desire to beat some sense into the
mortal.

He drew
in a long breath, held it a moment in a vain attempt to regain
control of his temper, and then exhaled slowly. The man hurled
another string of impotent threats at his neighbour’s door and
Marcus’s anger spiked right back up. His silver-blue eyes slid
towards the digital clock on his bedside table. The display mocked
him with the ungodly hour this man had chosen to air his bitter
disappointment to not only the female but the entire apartment
block. Three in the morning.

Because
of the humidity that showed no sign of abating and had made it
impossible to get comfortable, Marcus had only been asleep for a
scant few hours. He hated waking early, especially when he was
stuck in the hell known as the mortal realm.

The man
banged again, rattling the wall with a tremor that reached Marcus.
He was no threat to the woman because she wasn’t foolish enough to
answer her door, but it grated on Marcus’s nerves
nonetheless.

His
temper frayed when the man shouted foul accusations at
her.

All of
them false.

Marcus
had known Amelia all of her life, although she had only known him
this past month. He had watched over her and she was a pure soul
with terrible luck when it came to men, and the man knocking down
her door didn’t deserve her.

Unable to
bear another second and sensing Amelia’s increasing fear through
the wall that joined their apartments, Marcus rose from the bed and
slung on a pair of dark grey jogging bottoms. He walked through his
unlit apartment with ease, not bothering with the lights as he
could easily map a safe path around the furniture without seeing
it, and unlocked his front door. He yanked it open and stepped out
into the dull cream hallway on the other side, his gaze immediately
fixing on the mortal that was daring to break his sleep and
threaten Amelia.

The dark
haired man looked at him.

Marcus
coolly stared back.

“What’s
your problem, mate?” The man’s fingers curled into fists at his
sides. Marcus noted everything about him in under a
second.

He was
drunk. He was itching for a fight. And he was a fool who thought
this sort of abuse would win Amelia back. On the surface, the man
wanted to upset her and hurt her, but Marcus could see beyond the
façade to the pale hope in this man’s heart that Amelia would be
his again.

That was
something Marcus would never allow.

“You.”
Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbed sleep from his eyes,
and then leaned back against the doorjamb, folding his arms across
his bare chest and crossing his legs at his ankles.

The man
regarded him for a moment and then turned back to Amelia’s
door.

“I think
you should leave now.” Marcus stepped forwards, bringing the man’s
attention back to him so he wouldn’t bang on the door again and
cause Amelia’s fear to increase. “Before things get out of
hand.”

The man
smiled, amusement touching his dark brown eyes. “What you gonna do
about it? She’s my girlfriend… not yours. Piss off back inside and
get your nose out of my bloody business before I break
it.”

Marcus
sighed. He had warned the man. He had done everything by the book.
His patience wearing thin, he looked the man over again, taking in
his dark jeans and the loose t-shirt that covered a physique half
his own and the way his fists shook as he shouted at Amelia’s door.
Without resorting to violence, Marcus wasn’t sure how to convince
the man to leave. He could compel him, but using his powers on such
a base creature was beneath him and would do nothing to teach the
man a lesson in manners towards women.

The man
banged on the door again before Marcus could stop him, hard enough
this time that the white painted wood creaked under the attack, and
he heard Amelia gasp.

“That is
it.” Marcus took another step forwards and the man swung at him.
Marcus dodged his fist, clamped his left hand down on the man’s
wrist, and twisted his arm behind his back. The man bent forwards
to stop his shoulder from popping out of its socket, facing away
from Marcus, and grunted in pain. Marcus glared at the back of his
head. “I said to leave.”

The man
struggled in his grip but stilled when Amelia’s apartment door
eased open a few inches and she peered around it. Marcus stared at
her, frowning at the tears that streaked her flushed cheeks and the
fear in her grey eyes, and tightened his grip on the man’s arm
until he let out another deeply satisfying grunt.

“What do
you want?” she whispered, voice hoarse and trembling.

It wasn’t
like Amelia to look afraid of anything. Marcus had seen her fight
it out face-to-face with her exes without showing a trace of fear
but this one had rattled her. Weariness shone in her grey eyes,
lending them a cold edge he hadn’t seen before. Her gaze tracked up
Marcus’s arm, lingering a moment on his bare torso, and then
reached his face.

“I’m
sorry if he woke you.” Her gentle tone dissolved some of his
anger.

Marcus
loosened his grip on the man’s wrist but held on to him. “It’s not
a problem. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”

The man
twisted enough to look back at Marcus over his shoulder and then
turned his head towards Amelia.

“Oh, I
see how it is. Dump me and then move on to the next bloke, right?
You’ve probably been fucking him from the moment he moved in. Well,
I’m sure Mr Muscle is a great catch…” The man wrenched free of
Marcus’s grip and stumbled forwards a few steps before righting
himself. “But I’m gonna have to fuck up that pretty face of
his.”

Marcus
reacted on instinct and launched his left fist at the man to
counter his attack. The moment he did, he felt the strength drain
from his arm and pushed harder. He had been holding back to avoid
seriously injuring the mortal but now that Heaven had stripped him
of his immortal strength he needed to do the opposite and give it
everything he had.

He leaned
back to avoid the man’s punch while still pushing forwards with his
own and slammed his fist hard into the man’s jaw, cracking his head
to one side and sending him crashing into the cream wall. The man
bounced off it, hit the dark banister opposite and then collapsed
into an ungainly heap on the wooden floor of the
hallway.

“Shit.”
Pain shot along every bone in Marcus’s hand and up his arm to his
elbow. It had actually hurt.

The man
groaned and dragged himself to his feet and Amelia hesitated in the
doorway of her apartment, looking as though she couldn’t decide
whether to assist him or keep back. Marcus shook his hand and
waited for something to happen. Instead of the instant punishment
he had expected, there was only silence as the man stared hard at
both him and Amelia, and then stumbled down the stairs to the next
floor.

Marcus
still waited.

Part of
him couldn’t believe that he had struck a mortal and the rest
couldn’t believe that he wasn’t being punished.

Heaven
had limited his power the moment he had subconsciously decided to
hit the man, leaving him with only the strength of a mortal and
therefore open to attack himself. The punch had hurt him. Perhaps
that was punishment enough. Perhaps all of this was punishment for
his misdeeds.

Marcus
sagged against the wall and blew out a sigh, clutching his injured
hand to his chest, convinced that Heaven would call him in to
reprimand him soon enough. He had committed an act of violence
against what could be considered an innocent human. Marcus couldn’t
think of the man that way. He was vile and cruel, seeking to scare
Amelia and hurt her. Marcus had only done his duty by protecting
her.

He opened
his eyes and looked across at her where she stood at the banister
peering down into the stairwell, her hands clutching the wooden
railing.

His gaze
drifted down over her shoulder-length straight dark hair to the
plum-coloured slip that only emphasised her sensual curves, to the
lean lengths of her legs. She was so soft and pure. Delicate yet
strong of heart. Her fear was gone now, leaving behind the
confident woman he was used to seeing in her.

She
looked across at him and his eyes dropped to her bare feet. He
frowned at the tattoo on her left ankle. A cherub? The plump winged
babe sat just above her ankle bone, staring back at him. He smiled.
Is that what she thought his kind looked like? The image humans had
of angels couldn’t have been more wrong. It amused him, stealing
away his pain and pushing it to the back of his mind.

His
strength returned and the pain dulled further, leaving only a
gentle throbbing and bruised knuckles behind as a reminder of what
he had done.

“I really
am sorry about that.” Amelia’s soft voice stole into his thoughts
and he glanced up at her. She crossed the hall to him and peered at
his left hand. “You should put some ice on that.”

Marcus
studied his red knuckles. Is that what humans did in this sort of
situation? In his world, they had angels with the ability to heal
others. Such an angel could easily fix this issue for him. Even if
he couldn’t find one, the red marks would be gone in less than a
day, his body’s superior healing ability quickly erasing
them.

“Would
you like to come in for some coffee or a drink? It’s the least I
can do as payment for being my hero.”

Marcus
stared at her. Coffee was payment for being a hero? He hadn’t
indulged in such drugs in a long time and while he knew about the
sexually stimulating effects that caffeine had on his kind, he had
no interest in drinking coffee with Amelia. If he did that, he
wasn’t sure what would happen between them, but it would certainly
be embarrassing for him.