Dark Angel by Eden Maguire Read Free Book Online Page A

Romania.’
    ‘My dad,’ I corrected. ‘I was actually born here.’
    ‘A citizen of the United States.’ The eyes were fixed on my face, the voice was mostly expressionless though I thought I picked up a small hint of amusement here. ‘So where in Romania were your dad’s family?’
    ‘In Bucharest.’
    ‘During the Ceauşescu regime?’
    I nodded. ‘Dad escaped with his family and came here in eighty-six.’
    ‘And remained.’ The gaze stayed on me, pinning me to the spot. ‘I guess he could go back home now.’
    ‘I guess.’ The legend talked banal family stuff like anyone else – how bizarre – while fellow guests jostled for his attention.
    A girl held out a pen, bared her arm and begged for an autograph. ‘But he married an American?’ Zoran asked.
    I nodded. ‘He says that here feels like home now. He reads American history.’
    How many gawky, geeky, lame remarks can one girl make in the space of an evening? Keep on counting.
    ‘I left the country when I was five years old,’ Zoran told me. ‘My family spent time in the former Czechoslovakia. After my dad was assassinated, my mom and I kept on moving west – Switzerland, Spain, eventually Mexico.’
    Assassinated is not a word you expect to be dropped into casual party conversation. It throws you off balance and begs a thousand questions, which I somehow couldn’t shape up into proper sentences. ‘Jeez, I’m sorry,’ I breathed inadequately.
    He shook his head. ‘It happened a long time ago. I don’t really remember my father. And that kind of childhood – always moving on – it gives you an independence, a strength. I guess what I’m saying is that I learned early on not to need people.’
    ‘I guess.’ A few gossip-mag details flitted through my head – the fact that Zoran had a zillion rock chick girlfriends through the years but had never married or had children, that he owns homes in New York, Italy and the Bahamas.
    ‘I’m a wanderer, born and bred. But the counter side of that is that I’ve developed a strong nostalgia for my homeland.’ Zoran steered me through the crowd, ignoring the bustle and clamour around us, making sure his stewards kept the autograph hunters at bay.
    Out of the corner of my eye I saw that Ezra and Grace were following in our wake.
    ‘It’s highly romantic and completely illogical,’ Zoran continued. ‘Here am I, living this rootless, privileged existence, achieving what everyone would recognize as the impossible American dream, but still yearning to be in contact with little old Romania, to be part of a big family, to know the language, the culture of my forefathers.’
    I nodded, flattered by the confession, by his assumption that I was on the same wavelength, that I was even worth talking to. I mean, he was way up there; I was nobody. By the way, unlike my dad’s, Zoran’s English was perfect. Maybe a little formal and quaint for a rock star, but grammatically right on.
    ‘Which is why, the moment I saw your name on the guest list, I said, “Find that girl.” ’ He stopped now, glancing over his shoulder to check that Ezra and Grace were close by. ‘They tell me you almost didn’t come.’
    ‘To the party?’ I stammered. How the hell did he know that? ‘The fire – I guess it spooked me.’
    ‘I’m glad you made it. And you know it wasn’t an easy decision. I had my office contact Tony West’s family – the firefighter who died – and they said to go ahead, Tony died doing what he loved and anyway that’s what he would have wanted. I’m making a donation to the forest service so they can upgrade their equipment.’
    I nodded, though I wasn’t sure that a donation, however generous and well meant, balanced out the family grief quite the way Zoran implied.
    ‘Not that one thing cancels out the other,’ he added, looking me directly in the eye and making me feel as though he’d read my mind. A security guy opened a door for us and I found myself out of the main party