Fierce Dawn Read Free

headaches, auditory or/and visual hallucinations—and she vowed to definitely, dutifully disclose everything to Dr. Meyers.
    Even her highly embarrassing crush on one handsome stranger, and all the naughty things he kept doing to her in said dreams.
    Right down to the undecipherable message in his kisses and whispers.
    Everything.
    But not until she had no other choice.
    Sadie adjusted the bag slung over her shoulder and headed for the elevators to the upper stacks. Ben hurried to her side from the stacks.
    “ Hey, you. Tell me you came hungry today.” Ben fell into step with her.
    He didn’t mean for food. “Famished,” she said and tripped on the carpet. Ben caught her elbow and helped her regain her balance.
    “ Don’t you dare look,” he said in a low voice, pausing until they’d passed the information desk. “But our dear missus Cynthia is sporting a black eye today. Huh-uh, Sadie, not a peek.”
    Sadie resisted. “Really?” Cynthia had seemed fine. Of course, she generally noticed very little once her handsome stranger lit her brain. “I didn’t notice at all. Make-up?”
    “ Piles of make-up.” Ben went on, explaining how he spotted it, who he figured gave it, etcetera, etcetera.
    Sadie half listened, absorbing her surroundings, glimpsing down aisles, listening to shuffling pages, smelling the book - fragrant air. Hearing the thrumming of her heart.
    He might be here today. And if he was, she was going to make contact. Because the dream seemed to be begging her to. Because she had to see for herself if it was the same him, namely, if he had wings. Which, of course, was ridiculous. Of course he didn’t have wings.
    “ Are you coming?” Ben urged from inside the elevator. She had missed the telltale ding. Rubbing at the heat in her cheeks, she joined Ben, careful to avoid the metal lip her toe liked to kiss.
    “ What’s up with the chipped blue polish?” Ben asked, pushing four. “Don’t go Goth, Sadie. It won’t suit your freckles.”
    Sadie looked down. Uh-oh. She hadn’t scrubbed all the oil paint off. She’d better before three. Her sister would just love the idea of Sadie painting again.
    “ I’ll bet that black eye makes Cynthia’s nose hurt, too,” Ben was saying as the metal cart lumbered upward. “See if she can sniff at me now.”
    “ Ben, I think she has allergies,” Sadie said, mentally rejoining the conversation.
    “ Bullshit. She thinks she’s better than me. But look who got clocked. I wonder who did it….” Sadie ’s attention wandered.
    What the hell would she do if he did have wings , anyways? Run and tell someone? Uh, no. Her belly did a somersault.
    The elevator opened. Ben was awaiting further response.
    “ Really?” she said, struggling to recall what else he’d said. She kept pace with him to the rear office for their first re-shelving load.
    “ Yes, really….”
    Rows of empty computers hummed in the background. Somewhere nearby, someone coughed. Sadie’s eyes scanned for a glimpse of black. He wore black. Black shirt, black buckle - laden boots.
    Except in her dreams. Her dreams were drenched in blues, even those of him in bloody battle, red flames licking the edges. Blues dressed in black. Except when he wore nothing at all. Nothing but bare glistening skin and gossamer wings. Heat spread over her neck just thinking of the shimmery things tickling over her arms and thighs as he nuzzled the sensitive spot behind her ear.
    Goosebumps raced over her forearms. Sadie rubbed at them.
    “… in the aisles all the time while they think no one is looking. He looks like he could be violent, too.”
    Hearing the word ‘violent’ tugged her back to the present.“Who?”
    Ben rolled his eyes. “Nevermind. You’re distracted. And I know why.”
    “ You do?”
    “ Of course. You’re not the only heart skipping beats hoping Angel Eyes will be here again. But once we take in a long drink of him, you head straight up there and see for yourself. It’s her left