Her Guardian Angel 4-Her Angel Series Read Online Free Page B

trigger again?” His superior this
time.
    Marcus
risked a glance at him. The concern in his dark eyes surprised him
and buoyed his spirits, and Marcus thought about what had happened
the last time his wings had failed to appear.
    Thankfully he had been on the ground and had only attempted
to take off but it was always there at the back of his mind
whenever he flew. His wings were unpredictable. There was nothing
stopping the curse from triggering mid-flight and sending him
plummeting to Earth. He had no desire to hit the ground from a
great height. While the fall wouldn’t kill him, it would certainly
render him unconscious and vulnerable to attack, and it would
definitely hurt.
    “Nothing
particular. I had merely wanted to stretch my wings and fly
somewhere new for a change of scenery.”
    “Report
back to us if anything happens. It should not be long now, Marcus.
Your destiny awaits.”
    Before
Marcus could ask exactly what that destiny entailed, the light
engulfed him again. When it receded, it revealed the low-lit lounge
of his apartment.
    He looked
at the clock on the DVD player in the entertainment centre to his
right and frowned at the time. Almost six. He rubbed his eyes and
locked the front door, and then trudged wearily across the living
room, stifling a yawn as he did so. When he reached his bedroom
door, he beat his wings, glad to feel them and sense that they were
stable, and then focused so they would disappear. They gradually
shrank into his back and when the last feathers were gone, the
marks there flushed with heat and then settled again.
    Marcus
didn’t bother to remove his armour. He flopped down on his back on
his double bed, enjoying the cool of the covers against his bare
skin between his back plate and loincloth and on his arms and
thighs. A gentle breeze drifted in through the open window, washing
over his head and shoulders, bringing with it the scent of dawn and
carrying some of his irritation away. He stared at the ceiling,
watching the room brighten with the rising of the sun, his mind
racing but not with questions about his mission. He focused on his
shoulder blades and the marks there.
    When they
had appeared five centuries ago, he had thought it was castigation
for sinning. He had broken the law that night and had indulged in
mead, a heady drink that at the time had been a banned substance
for angels due to its alcoholic nature. When he had come around
with his head on the verge of exploding and his stomach rebelling,
his shoulder blades had been ablaze, burning so fiercely that he
had felt as though someone had branded him. He had tried to bring
his wings out but they had failed to appear.
    When
Heaven had called him back to them, Marcus had discovered that it
wasn’t punishment at all but rather a curse. It took weeks for the
medical staff to discover what it meant, and months for it to sink
in that it was inerasable. The marks sealed his wings for five
hundred years, leaving him stranded in Heaven, only able to do the
duty of a watcher.
    In the
same week that Heaven had assigned him to watch over Amelia, his
wings had finally escaped their prison. The medical staff had
declared that the bond of the curse was weakening with time but
that he might still encounter difficulties. He had been too
intoxicated by the thought of flying again to care that there might
be future incidents where his wings would refuse to
appear.
    There
were many at first but as time continued to flow, so the curse
continued to weaken, and the space between the incidents grew.
During his last assessment, the medical team had announced that his
problem was no longer the curse but psychological barriers he had
constructed. Something about it being his mind causing his wings
not to appear.
    Marcus
had found it difficult to believe since he had no desire to drop
from the sky and hit the pavement, but when they had explained it
in layman’s terms, he had understood their point a little better.
If he feared that his wings