Crescendo Read Free Page A

glassy. I wet a paper towel and pressed it to my eyes. What was Marcie’s problem? What had I ever done to her that was cruel enough to deserve this?
    Drawing a few stabilizing breaths, I squared my shoulders and constructed a brick wall in my mind, placing Marcie on the far side of it. What did I care what she said? I didn’t even like her. Her opinion meant nothing. She was rude and self-centered and attacked below the belt. She didn’t know me, and she definitely didn’t know my dad. Crying over a single word that fell from her mouth was a waste.
    Get over it
, I told myself.
    I waited until the red rimming my eyes faded before leaving the restroom. I roamed the crowd, looking for Patch, and found him at one of the ball toss games, his back to me. Rixon was at his side, probably wagering money on Patch’s inability to knock over a single weighted bowling pin. Rixon was a fallen angel who had a long history with Patch, and their ties ran deep to the point of brotherhood. Patch didn’t let many people into his life, and trusted even fewer, but if there was one person who knew all his secrets, it was Rixon.
    Up until two months ago, Patch had also been a fallen angel. Then he saved my life, earned his wings back, and became my guardian angel. He was supposed to play for the good guys now, but I secretly sensed that his connection to Rixon, and the world of fallen angels, meant more to him. And even though I didn’t want to admit it, I sensed that he regretted the archangels’ decision to make him my guardian. After all, it wasn’t what he wanted.
    He wanted to become human.
    My cell phone rang, jarring me from my thoughts. It was my best friend Vee’s ringtone, but I let voice mail take her call. With a squeeze of guilt, I vaguely noted it was the second call of hers I’d avoided today. I justified my guilt with the thought that I’d see her first thing tomorrow. Patch, on the other hand, I wouldn’t see again until tomorrow evening. I planned to enjoy every minute I had with him.
    I watched him pitch the ball at a table neatly lined with sixbowling pins, my stomach giving a little flutter when his T-shirt crept up in the back, revealing a stripe of skin. I knew from experience that every inch of him was hard, defined muscle. His back was smooth and perfect too, the scars from when he’d fallen once again replaced with wings—wings I, and every other human, couldn’t see.
    “Five dollars says you can’t do it again,” I said, coming up behind him.
    Patch looked back and grinned. “I don’t want your money, Angel.”
    “Hey now, kids, let’s keep this discussion PG-rated,” Rixon said.
    “All three remaining pins,” I challenged Patch.
    “What kind of prize are we talking about?” he asked.
    “Bloody hell,” Rixon said. “Can’t this wait until you’re alone?”
    Patch gave me a secret smile, then shifted his weight back, cradling the ball into his chest. He dropped his right shoulder, brought his arm around, and sent the ball flying forward as hard as he could. There was a loud
crack!
and the remaining three pins scattered off the table.
    “Aye, now you’re in trouble, lass,” Rixon shouted at me over the commotion caused by a pocket of onlookers, who were clapping and whistling for Patch.
    Patch leaned back against the booth and arched his eyebrows at me. The gesture said it all:
Pay up
.
    “You got lucky,” I said.
    “I’m about to
get
lucky.”
    “Choose a prize,” the old man running the booth barked at Patch, bending to pick up the fallen pins.
    “The purple bear,” Patch said, and accepted a hideous-looking teddy bear with matted purple fur. He held it out to me.
    “For me?” I said, pressing a hand to my heart.
    “You like the rejects. At the grocery store, you always take the dented cans. I’ve been paying attention.” He hooked his finger in the waistband of my jeans and pulled me close. “Let’s get out of here.”
    “What did you have in mind?” But I was all warm