Мишель Роуэн - Angel with Attitude

He faded away in a glimmering light before she could say anything else. The last thing she saw was two large white wings spread out behind him, and then . . . he was gone.

It was just Val and Reggie in the courtyard then, as the snow drifted lightly to the ground.

Everyone else was gone. Gone forever.

She looked at him.

He looked at her.

She waited for him to say something funny, to make her laugh, but he just shook his head sadly. “Sorry, Val.”

She nodded and felt a tear slip down her cheek. “Me, too.”

She never thought she’d see him again, and when she did—when he rose above the hill to look down upon her with her long blond hair blowing in the New Mexican breeze—she breathed a great sigh of relief.

He beckoned to her, and she ran to meet him, throwing her arms around him.

“I love you,” he said.

“And I you.”

“Nothing could keep me away. No world vast enough, no mountain tall enough, no villain evil enough. We were meant to be together, always and forever.

Yes. Always and forever, she thought as their lips met in a kiss that felt like Heaven.

Val closed the book, stared at the back cover of Trixie L’Amour’s glamourized black and white photo, and threw the hardcover across the room where it knocked her artificial

Christmas tree over.

Who reads this crap? she thought. Seriously. Happy endings are for wimps.

But then she got up from behind the check-in desk, dutifully walked over to pick up the book and gingerly brushed it off. Then she propped the tree back up and straightened out the lights before she went back to sit behind the desk.

Two weeks had passed since the proverbial torch of looking after the Paradise Inn had been passed to her. It was Christmas Eve, and she’d strung a bunch of lights around the motel to make it look as festive as she could—just like the other motels she’d observed around

Niagara, only hers looked better, she thought. Barlow had said that pride was an asset sometimes. And her Christmas lights were really cool if she did say so herself.

She had a Harry Connick holiday CD cranked up and was nibbling at a piece of fruity Christmas cake—courtesy of Becky—and drinking a glass of milk.

One thing about being a human she definitely didn’t like—not that she was keeping a list anymore. After all, she’d accepted her new position as guardian of the Paradise Inn with open arms. Christmas cake sucked. But she ate it because she knew Becky had made it herself. Val was invited over to her place for Christmas dinner the following night. Becky was still clinging to the false hope that Val would hit it off with her brother. And who knew? Maybe she would.

Not.

Val had spent the last two weeks trying to keep her hands and mind busy. Signing the paperwork that turned ownership of the motel—not to mention Barlow’s sizeable savings account—over to her was surprisingly easy. One might almost think it was all preordained, or something. No questions asked.

Since then, as if to acknowledge Val as the new guardian, the inn had sort of . . . perked up a bit. Stopped looking so weathered. The sign out front that appeared not to have changed since the fifties, one day updated itself to look modern and shiny and new. The pool, still covered with a tarp and a layer of snow, had grown in size, become kidney-shaped with a slide and everything. Just waiting for the summer. Waiting for the snow to thaw. For a new season to begin.

It might have something to do with the revitalized look, but at the moment the motel was completely full. Zero vacancies. Val’s clientele turned out to be everything from a completely normal family of four vacationing from England, to a depressed wizard who hadn’t come out of his room in a week, to a tiny, maraca-playing demon who was in hiding and looking for a new band.

She tried to be as friendly to all of them as she could. Letting them know that she was there if they needed anything. If she could help out in any way.

Reggie and Claire were thinking about getting engaged. He’d been trying to be on his best behavior, but Val wasn’t really sure how well that was working out. When she’d seen him the day before, Claire had just turned him into a weasel.

And then there’s me, she thought.

Good old unpredictable, slightly selfish, moderately prideful, Valerie Grace. The owner/operator of a slice of Heaven called the Paradise Inn.

All alone on Christmas Eve. And feeling very, very sorry for herself after reading eight romance novels in a row.

Lloyd had sent over his entire backlist as an early Christmas present. Val pulled out the next Trixie L’Amour from under the desk and opened it up to page one. The bell above the door jingled. Oooh, she thought as she started reading. A Regency this time. Nice.

She felt a draft of cold air.

“Sorry,” she said without looking up. “We’re all booked up. There’s another motel right next door. Free shuttle service to the casino and everything.”

“Valerie . . .”

She looked up at the sound of his voice to see Nathaniel standing at the doorway.

A breath caught in her chest.

He smiled and it looked like it hurt a bit. She noticed a pinkish scar where she’d scored him across the eye with her fingernail. He touched his face when he saw where she was looking.

“I know. It didn’t heal.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“What are you doing here?”

He flinched, as if wounded by her curt words. “They threw me out. Of Hell. I’m human now. Just like you.”

“He made it sound like you were going to be punished.”

He smiled. “Lucifer finds different ways of punishing his employees. Being a human is my punishment. I believe Lucifer considers that a worse fate than being turned into a Nightflyer.

Believe it or not, Julian was rewarded and given a promotion because of his—”

“Evil ways?”

“Yeah. Also a little nepotism goes a long way. I guess I’m just not evil enough for them.”

“You can be evil when you try to be.”

He grinned. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Maybe a little.”

“So, listen,” he said, and met her gaze. “I didn’t really know where else to go. So I’m here. I know you probably hate me after all the ways I screwed up. But . . . I love you Valerie. So much. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Val just stared at him in silence, so he continued. “I honestly didn’t know anything was missing in my existence before I met you.” He frowned. “Well, I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t know what, other than the fact that I hated what I did. I figured that was my fate.

An eternity of despair, but that was just par for the course. When I was a human before . . . before all of this . . . I didn’t have a very good life then, either. So when I got the chance to become something more, I took it, thinking that might ease my pain, that it might fill the empty hole inside of me, but it didn’t. It only got worse.”

He paused, looked away for a moment, then met her gaze completely. “And then I met you, and everything fell into place. Even though it was an uncomfortable place that scared the shit out of me, it felt so right. I think I loved you before I ever met you. No one else has ever . . . touched me the way you did. Your bravery, your stubbornness. It’s you, Valerie. You are my light.”

She continued to stare at him, then blinked and looked down at the motel ledger. “We’re seriously all filled up. There’s no vacancy. It’s the holidays—big tourist time, you know.”

He pressed his lips together. “Yeah, I figured. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I guess I’ll leave you alone and not bother you anymore then.” He turned away and pushed the door open. Val felt the cold breeze again as she continued to study the check-in ledger.