Мишель Роуэн: Angel with Attitude

“Yeah, this is gonna be good. Blondes are my favorite.” He licked his lips.

Val held her hands up in front of her. “You do not want to do this.”

“Why not?”

She tried to slow her breathing down so she could put together complete sentences. “Just look at me. I’m sick. I’ve got a very bad virus. Incredibly contagious. And . . . and I haven’t showered today. Yuck, right?”

“You look pretty damn good to me.”

“You do not want to do this.”

He grinned to show her his broken, rotted teeth. “Oh, yes I do. Trust me on that.”

And then he was on her. She lashed out with the only weapon she currently had—her fingernails. She got him across his cheek and a watched a line of crimson appear. He stepped back to touch his face, stunned for a moment when he saw the blood on his fingers.

“You’re gonna regret that,” he said. And she believed him. She really did.

He hit her hard across the face, hard enough that she sank down to the ground, ears ringing from the force of the blow. He grabbed the front of her sweatshirt and pulled her back up to her feet as if she weighed nothing at all and her already injured ankle turned the wrong way.

As it snapped she felt pain shoot up her leg like a lightning bolt.

He clutched her throat and pressed her up against the brick wall, hard and fast enough to knock the wind out of her. His fingers closed tighter around her windpipe and he started to squeeze. She stared at him, eyes wide, but after a moment things began to go blurry . . . to fade away. She stopped clawing at him like a wild animal and her hands fell slackly to her sides.

This is what she got for trying to help somebody out: she was going to die. Her good deeds suddenly flashed in front of her eyes. No, she hadn’t done enough. And saving that kid the other day from the Pomeranian that was looking at him funny probably didn’t even count.

This horrible man was going to kill her and she hadn’t had enough time to fix things yet. To make Heaven take her back. They had to take her back . . . had to . . .

Suddenly, he released her. As she sank down to the ground in a heap, sputtering for breath, she watched him rise into the air. It struck her as odd, but her brain wasn’t making logical connections at the moment. He looked down at Val with surprise before he flew backward and slammed against the other wall of the alley, then fell to the snow-covered ground.

Unconscious.

A dark shape moved before her eyes. She blinked and tried to focus on it and saw it slowly condense into that of a man. He crouched down in front of her.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She coughed. “Do I look okay?”

“Not especially.”

It took another moment before everything completely came back into focus. The man held his hand out and she grabbed it. He pulled her up to her feet, a movement that was met with a gasp of pain as she realized just how hurt her ankle was.

“Did he harm you?” the stranger asked with a frown.

Standing, she could see he was much taller than her five and a half feet. Well over six feet, she estimated. He wore a serious expression on his shadowed face and a long leather jacket over dark clothes. From what she could see in the dim light from a nearby street lamp he was very handsome.

Movie-star handsome.

At least, he was the best-looking man she’d seen outside of the movies or TV. He almost didn’t look real.

But maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. She was so disoriented and congested that she couldn’t be certain her eyes weren’t deceiving her. She swallowed hard and coughed again, realizing that she couldn’t even feel her nose for how plugged up it was.

“That man wanted to kill me.” She frowned and looked over at the mugger, still out like a light. Humans made no sense at all. Fascinating creatures—sometimes—but completely incomprehensible.

“Your ankle is broken.” The stranger’s gaze had lowered and he was studying her foot.

She grimaced, the pain was intense. “Yeah, I guess I’d better make a quick trip to the hospital.

Just my luck. And here I thought I was going to get some sleep tonight for my big day tomorrow.”

Maybe one of those nice doctors from the TV show ER might be available, she thought absently.

He looked directly at her then. His eyes were light. In the darkness she couldn’t tell which color, but she felt almost hypnotized as he held her gaze. He smiled and a weird sensation came over her. Woozy. Uncertain. Awkward.

Incredibly attracted to a man she’s never seen before.

She shook her head to clear it. Weird.

“Let me take a look at it for you,” he said.

Val shook her head. “Really, that’s not necessary.” But he’d already sunk to his knees and pulled up the right leg of her track pants, and was now running a warm hand down her calf.

“Oh, well, okay then. If you insist.”

Had she shaved her legs recently? She couldn’t remember. She thought so. She’d tried out that depilatory lotion stuff. According to the packaging, it was supposed to last longer than just shaving. She was finding human maintenance to be extremely time-consuming, and in the case of the lotion—a bit goopy.

You didn’t have to shave your legs in Heaven. Hair-free. All the time. If you wanted to be, that is. She frowned. Maybe she should add that tidbit to her notebook in case she forgot. She patted her pocket to feel the reassuring outline. Still there.

The cold wind touched her face and she was surprised that it didn’t bother her. She looked up at the clear dark sky, at all the stars above, and wondered if anyone from Heaven was watching her right now. And, if so, what were they thinking?

All these thoughts helped distract her from the touch of the stranger’s warm fingers as he probed her ankle. If she hadn’t felt so uncomfortable with her current position, pressed up against a cold brick wall with an unfamiliar handsome man caressing her foot, she probably wouldn’t have needed to distract herself. But there it was. She sniffed and felt in her pockets for a Kleenex, but came up empty. She probably should have bought more when she was at the drugstore.

After a moment she attempted to clear her throat. “How’s it going down there?” Her words came out a little croaky.

“Just another moment. Almost got it.”

“Almost got what?” Then she gasped and braced herself against the wall. “What are you doing?”

A warmth was spreading across the top of her foot and around her broken ankle. He’d slipped off her running shoe and had one hand on either side of her foot, raising it slightly off the ground. But it didn’t hurt. Not at all. In fact it felt really good, all warm and tingly. Too good, in fact. She knew she shouldn’t feel this good with some unknown man in a dark alley.

The stranger finally rose to his feet.

Val tried to smile at him and felt her cheeks twitch nervously. “Okay, well, that was . . . um . .

. interesting. I think I need to leave now.”

“Try the ankle.”

“What?”

He smiled at her. “Your ankle. Try to put your weight on it.”

She did, tentatively. When that didn’t hurt she put all her weight on it. Then she hopped up and down on it. It didn’t feel broken or even slightly sprained anymore. She stopped hopping.

And glanced at him with a small frown.

“How did you do that?”

His smile widened. “Do you feel better?”

Her frown deepened. “Yes.”

“Then, you’re welcome.”

“I didn’t say thank you.”

“You’re still welcome.”

She glanced at the unconscious thug on the ground and her eyes narrowed. “How did you managed to launch him way over there, anyhow? Who are you, Batman or something?”