Fallen Angel (Hqn) by Eden Bradley Read Free Book Online

Grandmother had taught her to plant and care for the herbs and vegetables when she was so small it took both of her hands to hold the trowel, and she could barely manage the tall shovel. The earth was familiar to her, and the plants. She knew their cycles: when to plant, when to harvest, what each one was for. Basil and thyme to flavor food, black sage for backache, yarrow for toothache, wormwood and chamomile to calm. Datura and salvia and the mushrooms to dream.
    Was she dreaming now? But everything was so familiar. She was safe within the walls of The Grandmother’s garden. This was where she belonged.
    Not anymore.
    Shadows loomed in the garden as the sky went dark. And then there was nothing but the dark. She was falling, falling…
    “Asmodeus!”
    But the empty air whistled past her ears, tangling her hair, and she remained alone.

CHAPTER THREE
    “W HAT ’ S HAPPENING TO HER ?”
    A nurse gently but firmly moved Declan aside. The monitors were beeping, the noise jangling his nerves. She was too damn pale, her breath coming out in short gasps. He’d tried to wake her again, but when she wouldn’t open her eyes he’d called for the nurse. It was as though she was lost somewhere in there.
    The tears rolling down her cheeks were killing him.
    “Can’t you do something?”
    “She’s just a little agitated,” the nurse answered. “Probably dreaming.”
    The nurse reset the monitors, straightened the pillows. And his angel calmed, her breath a steady whisper now.
    “She’s okay?”
    “She’ll be fine. Her body’s just working off the heavy sedation from her surgeries.”
    The nurse shuffled out, her soft-soled shoes whispering across the linoleum floor. He went back to his place at the side of her bed, standing over her. The damn tears were still slipping down her face, over the small cuts on her cheeks, the bruises on her jaw. He wiped them with his thumbs, his heart beating like thunder in his chest.
    What was it about this girl? They’d barely exchanged a dozen words, and most of them didn’t make sense. But she’d gotten under his skin. He shouldn’t care so much. But he did.
    She moaned and he held her cheek. “Wake up. Come on, Angel. You’re dreaming. You just need to come out of it.”
    Anxiety was like a piercing heat in his veins. Desire just as strong, but he ignored it.
    Her eyes opened, that summer-sky-blue.
    “Hey. You’re back.”
    “Yes.”
    He held perfectly still as she stared up at him. Her lashes were long and dense, a dark golden-brown. Like doll eyes. Except they were filled with light and warmth as she searched his face.
    “You’re real, then,” she said softly.
    “What? Of course I’m real.”
    “It’s difficult to tell sometimes, what’s real and what’s not. I was just in the garden…and then it went away. I wanted to call for you, but I don’t know your name.”
    She had the strangest way of talking.
    “It’s Declan. Declan Byrne.”
    “Declan Byrne,” she repeated.
    She blinked up at him. Then she lifted her hand and covered his. And it was only then he realized he still held her face in his hand. Her palm was warm, her fingers brushing over his, making him heat all over. He pulled his hands back, stuck them in the pocket of his jeans.
    “Can you tell me your name?” he asked her.
    “I have no name.” Her gaze drifted out the window as thunder rumbled outside. The sky was an ashen gray.
    Her injuries must have really rattled her. Stephen had warned him she might not be all there when she woke up. If she woke up. But here she was, awake and at least partially alert. “That’s okay. You’ll remember after you’ve had a chance to recover.”
    “I remember. I remember that I have no name.”
    “I…don’t understand.”
    She was still looking out the window, watching as the rain started to come down, tiny droplets spattering the glass. “I am The Gift. The Consecrated. Those are my only names, but they are not mine. There is nothing which belongs to