Angel Of Mine Read online

  Angel of Mine

  Zane Michaelson

  Copyright © 2018 by Zane Michaelson

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

  Happy Ever After Publishing is an imprint of Junction Publishing

  United Kingdom/New Zealand

  Angel of Mine

  [email protected]

  www.junction-publishing.com

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Ordering Information:

  Quantity sales. Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the “Special Sales Department” at the address above.

  AOM / Zane Michaelson -- 1st Ed.

  This is for Hayley–a sleeping Angel.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Zane Michaelson

  Prologue

  Christmas Day

  1992

  The dark-haired man, hiding in an alleyway across the road, stepped out of the shadows to observe.

  “Gabriella Montgomery,” the woman yelled. “Get back here, right this minute.”

  The little girl was perilously close to the road and turned to poke her tongue out. She giggled, seemingly enjoying her little game. “Mummy, I’m only playing in the snow. Relax!”

  “You, cheeky little madam,” she said, rushing up to her daughter and wrestling hold of her hand. “You’ll do as I tell you, do you hear me?”

  Gabriella threw a tantrum and screamed at the top of her lungs.

  Seeing the little girl in the throes of a tantrum, he smiled and stepped back, concealing himself in the shadows once more.

  “And if you don’t behave yourself, you’ll go to bed without your Christmas dinner.”

  Her bottom lip trembled. “I’m sorry, Mummy,” Gabriella sobbed.

  “And I’m sorry for shouting at you,” she said. “You were very near to the road and Mummy has told you so many times not to get too close.”

  “If I hold your hand, can I have trifle after my dinner?”

  She ruffled her daughter’s hair and laughed. “Yes, my darling, you can.” She tittered to herself. “Now, come on, we need to get home. Daddy is probably burning the turkey and Grandma will be arriving with your presents.”

  Gabriella wiped at her eyes and smiled. Her eyes lit up. “I forgot Grandma was coming.”

  “You should know by now–she would never miss your birthday.”

  “I love her very much,” Gabriella replied. “She said I was extra special because I have the same birthday as Jesus.”

  She rolled her eyes. I wish my mum wouldn’t fill her head with all that religious nonsense.

  He caught her thoughts and sighed. “One day, you will see.”

  “You’re very special to all of us,” she reassured Ella. “Our very own little Christmas miracle.”

  The man could hear every word they said to one another and held his hands together in prayer.

  “Come on, let’s skip all the way home.”

  “Okay, Mummy, but you know I’ll win.”

  “Winner gets second helpings of trifle.”

  “Then I’m really going to win,” Gabriella decreed.

  He smiled. As young as she was, there was a steely determination to succeed.

  Gabriella and her mother skipped down the road.

  “Have a Merry Christmas, Gabriella,” he said. “I’m here when you need me.”

  Chapter One

  Present Day

  I opened my eyes, but still felt exhausted.

  Had I even managed to get a wink of sleep?

  Looking at the clock, I was surprised to note I had indeed slept, and for over twelve hours. That wasn’t like me at all. I didn’t like to waste my days lounging in bed. Five or six hours a night was usually enough for me, and I was ready to take on the world.

  It wasn’t the case of late.

  I had so much to do and zero energy to do it with.

  My body was in revolt, no doubt from the long working hours and weekend partying with friends.

  I’d drank far too much last night, but no matter how fragile I felt, I’d do the same again next weekend.

  Feeling like this was seriously impacting my everyday life, and booze filled weekends were only making matters worse, so I decided there was only one thing for it. I had to get my work life balance in order, cut down on my drinking, plus factor in time to rest.

  I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Thoughts whirled around my brain like a car on a racetrack. Lately, I’d felt different, nervous, on edge, certain change was on the horizon. I didn’t know what that change would be, but a seismic shift was about to hit, and I knew my life would never be the same again.

  I looked at the clock on my bedside cabinet.

  Get out of this bed.

  Nothing would be achieved by lying here.

  I had to get up, but I didn’t even have the energy to swing my legs out from under the warm duvet and do something with what was left of my day.

  Was it even worth doing anything today?

  I argued with myself.

  Perhaps I should just rest and recharge my batteries, ready to take on the world tomorrow.

  Yes, that was a good idea. Rest up and start a new regime tomorrow.

  Thankfully it was Sunday. I could spend the rest of the day relaxing.

  Monday meant the start of my working week and as much as I loved my job, I was dreading it.

  If I still felt as fatigued and drained as I did right now, I wasn’t sure what I would do.

  Phoning in sick was not an option. I just couldn’t do it–that wasn’t me. No, I would drag myself in, plonk myself at my desk and make sure the cogs still turned, albeit, a little slower than usual.

  Heaven forbid any of my colleagues would pick up the slack if I was feeling under the weather.

  Technically, I was their superior, but I had no ego and didn’t need to assert my authority to feel good about myself.

  We were equals as far as I was concerned–a team. But when the shit hit the fan, as it often did, they looked to me, shoving the blame my way. Some team huh?

  Working as a Literary Agent for a prominent publisher, there wasn’t time for laziness, or sickness, so I did what I had to do. I was quite the celebrity in my area of expertise, having accompanied successful authors to TV appearances throughout the
years. It was the one aspect of my job I thoroughly disliked, but one I got on with regardless.

  Get up, you lazy cow.

  It took every ounce of willpower I had, but I swung my legs out, my feet hitting the cold polished wooden floors of my loft apartment. With a huge sigh, I heaved my aching body up, plodding toward the bathroom.

  I dawdled past the floor length mirror, catching a glimpse of myself. I wish I hadn’t.

  My skin had a wishy-washy, grey tinge to it, and the bags under my eyes were more like suitcases.

  “Bloody hell, Ella, you look terrible,” I said, inspecting my face closely. My pores were like craters and I was most unimpressed with the fine lines creeping around my eyes.

  I still considered myself attractive but right now, I was looking older than my thirty-two years and feeling decidedly off kilter.

  I needed a holiday, and the sooner, the better.

  Yes, a holiday sounds like a good idea.

  Where would I go?

  Who would I go with?

  I could ask my mum, but she’d turn the trip into one of her sightseeing missions with compulsory itinerary attached. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of her shenanigans or play tourist.

  Right then, my stomach cramped violently, eradicating all the excitment of a holiday, and I rushed to the bathroom, vomiting into the toilet bowl.

  Chapter Two

  Angelo sat quietly in the corner of a busy café and sipped on a glass of iced water.

  He was lost in his own thoughts. Ella, the woman he was in love with. Nobody else mattered to him.

  A single tear rolled down his cheek.

  I can’t do it.

  Holding his head in his hands, he sobbed, his body trembling.

  The waitress glanced over at him, and looked unsure of what to do, but the other patrons appeared to ignore him.

  Finally, she approached.

  “Sir. Are you okay?” she asked, pulling a silk handkerchief from underneath her sleeve. “Can I do anything to help?”

  He looked up at her, his eyes scratchy from crying, bloodshot.

  “I’m fine, really,” he replied, offering a smile, then taking the handkerchief with a nod. He noticed her gold name badge. “But thank you for caring, Shelly.”

  “If you need anything at all, please ask.”

  He could tell she was concerned but wasn’t going to push the issue.

  Angelo dabbed at his eyes then returned to his troubled thoughts.

  “What am I going to do?” he whispered.

  The moment he’d been dreading was drawing nearer.

  It was the first time in his long existence he’d been forced to question the nature of his own being.

  Holding his head in his hands again, he tried to talk himself around.

  Perhaps there was another way? Maybe he could offer a trade?

  He felt the atmospheric shift.

  “You’ll follow the rules, Angelo, as you have always done.”

  He looked up to see Demetrius, his old friend, standing over him.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Believe me, I get no enjoyment from being here, but was sent to ensure you hold up your side of the bargain.”

  Angelo was angry, but it served a purpose.

  Being confronted by Demetrius helped him to make up his mind.

  “I won’t do it,” Angelo said, resolute.

  “You have no choice but to do it,” Demetrius warned, his tone darkening. “We don’t play favourites in our line of work.”

  “I don’t take orders from you.”

  “This is a battle you won’t win, Angelo–I’ll fight you all the way, if I have to.”

  “I’ve watched over her since the day she was born. You can’t expect me to abandon her now. I won’t do it.”

  “You’re not abandoning her, you sentimental fool.”

  “That’s what it feels like.”

  “Gabriella belongs to us,” Demetrius added. “She has from the very beginning.”

  Angelo swiped the glass from the table, sending it crashing to the floor. Water splashed everywhere. Neither Shelly nor the other patrons gave a second glance. “No, she doesn’t,” he roared. “She belongs to me.”

  “You know better than that.” Demetrius argued. “It was agreed millennia ago. One human soul for our side, one for your side.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “Because it is–they are merely humans.”

  “Don’t twist the truth,” Angelo snarled. “The creator has an affinity with the humans your kind will never understand.”

  “I was once one of you, as we all were,” he added. Demetrius ground his teeth together. “Your kind appear to have short memories?”

  “You were cast out, and with good reason.”

  “For fraternising with humans,” he replied, haughtily.

  “Exactly.”

  “Falling in love was our only crime.” Demetrius hissed.

  “You went against His word.”

  “As are you by holding onto this girl.”

  “She isn’t even aware of my existence.”

  “I know you too well, my old friend.” For a moment, he had a forlorn expression on his face. “In time, you will reveal yourself, but it’s too late, the wheels are already in motion.”

  “You can stop it if you want to.”

  “No, I can’t, Angelo.”

  “Please, Demetrius.”

  “I can’t, and I won’t.”

  “We’ve been friends for thousands of years,” Angelo said.

  “And we still are, no matter how distasteful it seems at times, but we must play by the rules.”

  “Break them, please, just this once,” Angelo begged. “She’s only thirty-two in human years. For us, that is no time at all.”

  “Age is irrelevant,” Demetrius said. “She has her part to play.”

  “You loved a human once.” Angelo was trying to make him remember. “She was everything to you.”

  “I don’t want to talk about her,” he replied. “Do you understand me?”

  “You stayed with her until she reached old age and died. That’s all I want for Ella. For her to have a life.” Tears formed in Demetrius’ eyes, but he blinked them away. “You still love her, even after all this time, don’t you?”

  “Enough, Angelo.”

  “It’s the truth though.”

  “I can accept the truth, as you have to accept Gabriella’s fate.”

  “Let her go.”

  “Abaddon would never agree.”

  “There must be something I can offer him instead?”

  “You know the price of what you ask.”

  “I’d never give myself to him–I won’t be a collector of souls.”

  Demetrius laughed. “But that is what you do now, don’t you see that?”

  “It’s different, and you know it.”

  “The only difference is you serve a different master.”

  “I won’t serve him.”

  “Then Gabriella is already lost.”

  “I need to find Abaddon, present my case to him in person and make him see sense.”

  Demetrius laughed again, rubbing his hands together. “You never will. Abaddon only answers to one, and we both know who that is.”

  “Then I’ll go straight to Him.”

  Demetrius bent double, cackling with laughter.

  “When has He ever given his lower angels an audience?”

  “I will do anything to save her.”

  “Oh, Angelo.” He shook his head. “Why fight what is destined to come to pass?”

  “Because I swore to guard and protect her.”

  “In life, only,” Demetrius reminded him. “Not in death.”

  “For eternity.”

  “I can see I’m wasting my time here.”

  “Yes, you are, but I’m sorry we’re at this impasse.”

  “I don’t want to fight you, Angelo, but I will if you refuse to back down.”
/>
  “You don’t have to fight me–walk away.”

  “I answer to another too.”

  “Then do what you must.”

  Angelo lowered his head and felt the atmospheric shift once again.

  Demetrius was gone.

  Shelly rushed over, suddenly noticing the spilt water. “I’m so sorry, Sir, I didn’t even notice your glass had fallen.”

  “That’s quite alright,” Angelo said, smiling. “I’d like to settle my bill please.”

  “Oh, that’s okay,” she said. “It was only water, and besides, your smile brightened up my day.”

  “That is most kind,” he replied. “Bless you.” He took hold of her hand and kissed it.

  She blushed, eyes fixed where he’d kissed her.

  “Tell me something, Shelly,” he said.

  “If I can?” she replied, a little doe-eyed.

  “Do you play the lottery?”

  “Waste of time if you ask me,” she said. “I’m sure it’s fixed.”

  He reached over and pulled a napkin from the dispenser.

  “May I borrow your pen?”

  “Sure,” she said, pulling the biro from her breast pocket.

  Angelo took then pen and wrote down a series of numbers.

  “I think these numbers might be lucky for you on Wednesday,” he added, cryptically. “Give them a try, it can’t hurt.”

  She took the napkin from him, stared at the numbers, then clutched it her chest. “Yes, I will, thank you so much, Sir.”

  “It is my pleasure, Shelly. I wish you a blessed life.”

  Angelo stood up, bowed his head then left the café, unsure of what he was going to do.

  Chapter Three

  My alarm rang at five am.