Page 4 of Fated Angel

Then they’d be heading to any location their heart desired, just to enjoy it. Just to be together. Alone.

“One day,” Colt promises. He can imagine a different trip to Greece where they would have had a moment to enjoy themselves. A quiet dinner at sunset, a stroll along the ancient buildings.

“That would be amazing,” Gabby says, the truth making her voice drop. “But first, we have to be focused, prepared, ready to fight.”

“I remember a time where you would have been shocked to have to fight anyone,” Colt teases, holding Gabby’s hand as he helps her into their row of seats. Once she’s seated, she scoots back in the chair and crosses her legs, watching him put the carry-on bag in the overhead storage, eyes narrowing as his black t-shirt shows her a peek of his chiseled abdomen.

“And I remember a time when all I wanted was for you to leave me alone!” she teases right back.

“Yet every time I tried to leave you alone? You’d show up again, literally at my bedroom door.”

“That was my angelic grace, and if you remember correctly, she wanted to kill you.”

“I’m glad you changed her mind.” Colt slides into the seat next to her, folding his long legs uncomfortably close in the small space between seats.

With a contented sigh, Gabby raises the armrest between them and slips under his arm to lay her head on his chest. “Me too. What we have, Colt, it’s special.” She looks up from beneath her lashes, her gaze turning warm.

Heat flares inside Colt, remembering pulling her aside in a distant aisle in Veritas and stealing a moment of passion.

“After this, there will only be nights like that,” he promises.

“I don’t see it,” Gabby huffs.

Night had fallen by the time they got to Syria, so they used the cover of darkness and a well laid cloaking spell to fly to the tallest building they could find and search for the telltale glow telling them where to go. Colt watches Gabby as she moves from one side of the belltower to the other, standing on her tiptoes and looking as hard as she can. He has Blaise’s journal now, and as he flips through the pages, he finds the part about when the obsidian was hidden.

“It says here that the angel Uriel took possession of the shards of obsidian and hid them throughout the lands. He knew the danger they could bring. He would have hidden them a little bit better than right in plain sight.” Colt taps his chin as Gabby huffs and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Just once, once! I’d like something to just jump out and say ‘here I am, Gabby, come get me!’” She’s frustrated. Finding the obsidian is a dangerous task on its own, but the looming threat that hangs in the balance makes everything so much more intense.

“Well, let’s think of what we know; it’s in a tomb in a ruined temple, destroyed in the war. Where we are now is the repaired and rebuilt city. See that line of hills in the distance?” Colt points towards the skyline, and Gabby rounds the bell in the center of the tower to peer into the darkness next to him. “Chances are there are temples there, in the ruins.”

“What would I do without you?” Gabby smiles, turning to him and leaning on the bricks.

“You’d probably still be at the academy, learning angel lessons with your father.”

Gabby rolls her eyes, taking Colt’s collar and tugging him down to a fiery kiss. Her lips mold against his as if they were made for him, and Colt has to fight everything in him to focus on the task ahead and not get lost in the curves of his angel’s body.

Gabby pulls away from him, a devious glint in her eye. “Catch me if you can?”

She winks and steps up on the bricks, then jumps. Like a flash of light in the darkness, her wings spread from her back and glow in the moonlight. Colt wastes no time. He slides the journal into his pocket and surges after her. The explosion of his black wings fills him with primal power.

He’ll catch her alright, he’ll always catch her. No matter the circumstances.

Gabby and Colt soar as one being, flying over a war-torn land littered with ruins and debris . They twist in the sky, spinning around each other, a perfectly coordinated flight founded on love and instinctual knowledge of one another. In the distance, over the hills Colt had pointed out, a glimmer of sunrise peaks over the horizon.

“Look,” Colt says, pointing ahead of them at a shadow near the base of the hills. There, hidden in the darkness, is a domed tower.

“What are the chances?” Gabby asks, flying closer to him.

Her face is serious now, hard. The face of someone willing to do what they have to do to save the world they know and love. Ahead of them the sound of splintering wood pierces the air and Colt’s attention is drawn back to the tower. The door has been blown open, and inside a light glows like a beacon in the dawn. It illuminates the silhouette of dozens men as they storm through the ruined door.

Men all wearing black robes.

“I’d say the chances are good, seeing as the cult beat us here,” Colt growls.

They pin their wings to their sides and dive.

The cult members waiting outside the temple have mere moments to register what’s happening when Colt drops the cloaking spell and barrels into the one on the left with the full force of his descent. Gabby, on the other hand, flips at the last moment and kicks the one on the right, dropping him on contact.

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