Ashes of Angels Read Free Page B

the bottom step and swallowed her boots ankle deep.
    She kept another coat in the boot of her car, along with gloves, hat and other necessary items. No one drove around Berlin in December without the essentials.
    The club door smashed outward, cracking the outer brick wall. The stranger marched down the steps, his pace determined. He wore no coat, and appeared unaffected as the bitter wind buffeted his chest and face.
    Cassandra’s teeth had already begun to chatter. Slipping her hand inside her boot, she claimed her car keys from the inner pocket. She’d parked five rows back and in the corner.
    Slipping on the icy surface, she slapped a palm on the closestcar to steady herself. A hand grasped her by the shoulder and swung her against the hood of a vintage BMW.
    â€œWhere are you off to in such a hurry, Cassandra? I was having a fine time dancing with you. Were my moves not correct? I thought to follow your direction.”
    Seriously? She kicked his knee, landing her toe hard, but he didn’t register pain with a wince. In fact, he instead winked at her.
    â€œLet go of me! I’ll scream.”
    He slapped a palm over her mouth. His square jaw pulsed and his eyes flashed a mad array of colors at her. “You are—” he trailed his gaze over her face and down her body “—mine.” The words came out in a wondrous gasp.
    Oh, bloody hell in a handbasket.
    She kicked and managed a boot toe behind his knee. “Let me go!”
    â€œCalm, Cassandra, I’m not going to hurt you.”
    â€œOh, yeah? You call having sex with me against my will not hurting me?”
    â€œI—no, I won’t do that. I admire you. You’re like nothing I have ever imagined beauty can be. Your voice is the color of happiness. It is gorgeous.”
    The guy was actually trying to flirt with her?
    Chill wind whipped across her face and cut off another scream. Cassandra kicked and shoved, but he was too strong. “I’m ready for you, buddy. I know what you want, and no matter how you phrase it, it’s not going to happen.”
    â€œPlease listen to me, Cassandra—”
    This time a kick to his inner thigh, so close to the family jewels, managed to present her with freedom.
    Dashing for her car, Cassandra said thanks for the Walther semiautomatic pistol she kept stashed in the car’s boot. It was over-the-top, but it had been easiest to obtain, and was as easyto use. It wouldn’t stop the guy, but it should slow him down long enough for her to escape.
    The man who chased her was a Fallen angel. Yes, a real bloody angel. She didn’t need an ID card or divine beam of light to convince her. And she, being a muse, wore a sigil that matched only one Fallen. And his idea of admiration was not in alliance with hers.
    Everything Cassandra had been taught about angels and their muses was falling into dreadful place.
    She’d been born a muse, a female mortal who would ultimately attract a Fallen angel. Said angel would one day come for her, impregnate her, and she would give birth to a vicious, giant nephilim. Or so, that is how Granny Stevens had related it to her.
    Slamming her palms to the boot of her car, she skidded and hit her knees against the chrome bumper. Struggling with the key, her icy fingers inserted it into the lock and the boot popped open. She grabbed the pistol and turned as the angel slid up to her. His chest met the barrel.
    â€œBack off,” she commanded firmly. Holding the weapon gave her a confidence she’d never expected to need. This adrenaline junkie knew how to use nervous energy, yet her dreams of angels had always been merely dreams. “Or I blow you back to the Ninth Void.”
    He raised his hands in surrender but did not relent by stepping back. Wind blew his dark hair across his face, underlining his eyes. “You’ve not the power to do so. And please, that place was miserable. I’ve only been out a day. Won’t you