A Heavenly Kind of Love Read online

  A Heavenly Kind of Love

  Lexi Ostrow

  Dedication

  To all those who have fought the beast, this is for you.

  To all those who lost someone to the monster that is cancer, this is for you.

  To the amazing women who aided me during my research: your battles are inspiring - never give up. This is for you.

  To my Aunt Sharon who fought Breast Cancer and won - I love you, this is for you.

  To my father, who fought hard against cancer but did not win, I love you and miss you, this is for you.

  To Greg and Kate, who lost their battles while I wrote this novel, this is for you.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Gabe clenched his jaw as he was forced to watch through a mirror as the glimmering gold feathers of his wings faded and shifted to white. His punishment rode on him, causing every muscle in his body to shake with tension; with the need to rail against what was occurring before his very eyes.

  It took everything he had not to shout or to plead for his title to remain in the wake of what he had done. One by one the gleaming metallic feathers that were once interwoven with gossamer white ones disappeared. Gabe’s body shook, and sweat dripped down his brow, and still, he watched on as the change weaved its way through what were once his battle wings. The process was painless, save for the mental pain it brought him to see the fallout from his disastrous decisions.

  Just leave one. Let me have one. The nearly childlike thought was useless. When an angel was stripped of their title, they did not get to keep any vestige of it.

  His green eyes were glued on his reflection as the final gold feather, the one on the tip of his left wing, shimmered and dissolved to a dull, meek white. He screamed in his mind, almost dropping to his knees as the shame washed over him with the force of a tidal wave.

  Until that very moment, Gabe had hoped for redemption.

  “It is done.” The words were grave, and Gabriel kept his gaze on the mirror as he spoke. The Archangel’s face reflected back as contorted in a mix of grief and absolvement.

  Gabe stared at his reflection, even dared to raise his hands and run them over his wings. He stared into the mirror, desperate to find any trace of a leftover feather. There was none. All that reflected back at him were the pure white feathers humans thought angels bore.

  “Your wings are stripped, and your assignment received.”

  Fury rolled through Gabe at the words as tumultuous as a volcano readying for an eruption. He grew unstable on his feet as the anger coiled around his body. Gabe’s hands clenched so intensely when he gazed down they were white from lack of blood flow. He was a warrior. That was all he should ever be.

  “There has to be something that can be done.” The words escaped on bated breath, he knew nothing could change his punishment.

  Massive white wings sprouted from Gabriel’s back as he leaped up from the desk and sent the mirror smashing to the ground with an ear-shattering noise. His eyes blazed with heavenly fire, and the room shook beneath their feet as he spoke. “Your fate is sealed.”

  Common sense should have sealed Gabe’s mouth. Unfortunately, his temper washed away any trace of it. “It was one mistake.” The words were growled. Any other angel would be dead for speaking to an Archangel with such a tone.

  The chair he sat on tipped backward, and pain shot through his body as his head crashed against the floor. Gabriel’s arm pressed against his throat, cutting off airflow as the Archangel leaned down so close their lips could have touched.

  “You were responsible for the death of hundreds. Your battle wings have been stripped; be grateful they will not be cut from your back. Question me again, and you will regret it.”

  Sputtering around his blocked windpipe, he was able to squeak. “That would be better.”

  Fire blazed white hot in Gabriel’s eyes, but he did nothing. In fact, he lifted up and cursed as he walked away.

  Gabe took the opportunity to scramble up from the floor. His hand massaged his throat as he stared at the other angel.

  “The life of a fallen is not for my son.” Gabriel’s words shook the very floor they stood on, his eyes glowed a heavenly gold, and his mouth fell into a severe line.

  “Then why place me as a Guardian? I am your son; I am a warrior.”

  Gabriel folded his wings in with a sigh. “You are a disgrace.”

  The words struck Gabe with far greater force than his father had a moment prior, deflating his anger as swiftly as it had arisen. He’d known the damage he’d caused by trusting a Fallen. There had been no denying he’d made a mistake worthy of losing his battle stationing. But becoming a Guardian? That’s work for the weak.

  “Father, -”

  “Do not ask me again, Gabe. You have sullied the name of our family. Do not soil it further with desperate whining or talk of falling. A Guardian is a fine position, and in time, you will come to understand that protecting and guiding humans of importance is as gratifying as saving them in battle. Being entrusted to guard one of the few worthy humans should not be taken lightly—no matter how distasteful you find this new way of life.”

  He was intelligent enough to keep his mouth shut. Three hundred years since he Gabe had donned the mantle of a Battle Angel and his father had never struck him. Three hundred years and his father had never had any reason but to cherish him.

  Until now.

  “What of the human? Can I not be granted a charge more in line with my skill set?” He’d learned of the fragile female he would protect the moment his fate had been spoken aloud at the last Council of Angels. Responsibility over a valiant soldier or would leader could have made this new lifestyle bearable.

  He'd been granted neither. Further punishment, regardless of whether his father would admit to it or not.

  Gabriel sighed once more and took his seat at his desk. His body no longer bore the tension of fury, but rather sagged in shame or annoyance. “Cassandra Marks has a destiny waiting for her. She must be given the protection to get to it. There is no harm in protecting a human civilian over a human soldier.”

  “Except I was made for war!” The words rushed out as a shout.

  “As was I, and yet, I have given war up for a chance to guide other angels to their calling. Your wings were only saved because I am your father. If you do not heed your place and heed it well, I will not be able to protect you from having them stripped away entirely. Though you momentarily thought it a fun threat to make to me, I know you do not wish to be a human.”

  His father was not correct. Without the gleaming golden wings of a Battle Angel, he felt little need to have them at all. Falling only meant he could never come home. He did not belong amongst his brethren if he could not serve the way he was born too. Exile was not an adequate threat any longer.

  “I promise, you will come to see the wisdom in my words. You are my eldest son, my only male offspring, but you
are still so very young. Your path can change, and you can still find happiness and worth in it.” Gabriel gently laid his hand on Gabe’s shoulder, though Gabe had not realized dear old dad stood again.

  There was little point in arguing with his father and no point in trying to escape his fate. The only way out would be to purposefully fail his charge—and harming a human was not in his nature. Bitter or not, he was born to protect and save, not kill. There were many lines he would cross to see his wings glitter with golden feathers once more, but never the loss of an innocent.

  “I do not agree, Father. However, for you, I will try to embrace this life.” The words sounded as empty as he felt, but there was no turning back now.

  Gabriel nodded, the fire gone from eyes, leaving them a serene, crystalline blue. “This will be a noble position. Not all humans have Guardian Angels, and not all angels can be one. You will see.”

  Gabe nodded, defeat sagging his shoulders low. I highly doubt that, Father.

  One

  Laughter rang out in the small yard, drawing a smile to Cassandra’s lips. These were the moments she lived for. The moments that made her job worth a damn more than any other.

  “Miss Cassandra!” A small girl tugged at the hem of Cassandra’s shirt with a grin on her face so wide it was impossible to know the child was in a terrible living situation. “Come and play with us.”

  Squatting down, she looked into Tamara’s eyes and beamed at the young girl. “I taught you this game. It wouldn’t be fair for me to play. I’d win.”

  “Not always!” A boy whose English was improving raced past with a smirk. “Catch us!”

  Pushing off her knees, she grinned at them. All eleven no longer ran but stared at her with pleading in their eyes.

  “Well, then.” Standing up, she looked around the orphanage yard. “Catch me if you can! Zuma, you’re it!”

  With a cackle of her own, she took off, moving slow enough that the kids could overtake her and better enjoy the game.

  “I am coming!” Zuma exclaimed with a giggle.

  Slowing her pace even further, Cassandra barely took a step per second as she waited for one of her favorite youth to tag her.

  “You are it!” Zuma’s infectious laughter rang out as his small hand delicately touched her elbow. “Kukimbia haraka!” He shouted perfectly in Swahili, turning on his heel and racing away.

  “I’m going to get you all! The rules have changed. Tag everyone to win!” She should have spoken in Swahili, but part of her mission was to improve the children’s English.

  Forcing herself to take smaller, slower steps, she raced after the eleven playing children. The sun beat down on her as she sprinted over barren, dry and cracked land, but the laughter ringing out in front of her was all she focused on.

  “Ninakuja kwako!” I’m coming for you! Pretending to stretch her hand as far as it could go she tagged not one, but three of the girls playing.

  Laughing, they sat down on the spot, leaving her to continue her charade of a chase after the remaining children. None whined or complained that their turn to play was over—something she admired most about these fantastic children.

  All she heard was glee as she moved, slower than a turtle, after each of her charges. One by one she tagged them all until she let her gaze roam over the yard and saw them sitting, legs crossed, watching with amusement dancing in their eyes.

  “I’m the winner!” Her arms shot up into the air in celebration of her victory.

  The kids all clapped good-naturedly, again reminding her they were more than well-adjusted, but how hopeful they were.

  “Chakula cha mchana,” Tahani, director of the orphanage, called out from the doorway for the children to come in for lunch. She wiped her hands on a well-worn white towel, smiling to Cassandra.

  The children rose with a leap, all crashing together and chattering away as they moved toward the small building where they ate all their meals. Cassandra merely watched from her spot. She never ate with them, preferring to take meals alone so she could document activities and think of plans moving forward for her project.

  She’d never imagined her life would take her to other countries to help children in need of so much more than U.S. children in similar predicaments. Cassandra had done six missions to this particular orphanage in Uganda. Many of the children recognized her, and far too few were ever placed in homes from visit to visit. Her heart broke each time, knowing most of these children would spend their childhood here, never having a traditional family structure, values, and benefits.

  “They have so little, and they don’t ask for more,” she spoke to no one, something she often did when voicing her thoughts.

  A shift in the wind sent a warm breeze over her bare shoulders—something that rarely happened in the dead of summer. Despite the warmth of the air, goosebumps broke out over her arms as a chill raced through her. Cassandra had the distinct feeling eyes were on her.

  Often times, hunters and militant forces looked in on the orphanages. Whether the soldiers were there to protect them or take advantage of them, she was never sure. The children were protected by the haphazard government, but watching as burly, sweaty men marched past with guns on their shoulders was disconcerting, to say the least. Cassandra would have given anything to shield young eyes from seeing the horrors of war around them, but that was not one of her skills. Only a Guardian Angel could shield someone from the horrible things in life.

  Chuckling at the thought, she turned a slow circle, looking to see who was watching her. In an unusual twist, she saw no one. No men with guns, no prospective parents and no government officials coming to tell them more funding had been cut. Yet the feeling did not leave her. Eyes still felt as if they were boring into her soul.

  Shuddering at the eeriness, she gave one last turn with a sigh. After three weeks it wasn’t a surprise her mind was playing tricks on her. The nights were warm and bug-filled, so much so she hardly slept. Though her mosquito net trapped enough bugs to give her nightmares, no matter how many times she visited the country, she rarely sustained the irritating bug bites.

  “Two weeks until you go home.” The thought was not one of happiness, despite being more than ready for her plush bed and bug-free home.

  Leaving meant saying goodbye to twenty-two of the most deserving children on the planet. Twenty-two children who needed someone to fight for them; to get them care, to tuck them in at night and to teach them the most basic things. Whenever she left, she prayed she would return on the next trip to find another social worker had come—but that was never the case. Her favorite little orphanage was in a dangerous war zone, so few workers came, unlike so many of the others she visited in other countries.

  “Well, that soured quickly,” Her mood rarely turned dark at the thought of returning home. Though her work was important, each time she returned to familiar faces, it took a toll on her soul. One she was in need of escaping at the moment. “The only thing for that is an ice cold water and story time.”

  With one last scan around, Cassandra wished she could shake the feeling of eyes following her. It was a bright, warm day, and she had children to make smile.

  Two

  Gabe watched Cassandra move as graceful as a butterfly from bed to bed, kissing each child goodnight. His gut rolled with unease as he watched the gray aura surrounding the characteristically beautiful woman. Aura’s of guarded humans always shimmered white, sometimes silver, but never gray.

  “Something is wrong,” he spat the words as he took one step closer to her. If a human stood as close as Gabe, he could intimately touch Cassandra. He was not though, and all he invoked was a wash of worry.

  Cassandra Marks stiffened momentarily and then dropped a kiss to the forehead of a young girl in the final bed. If she’d sensed him, the instant had passed. Reaching out, Gabe attempted to run his fingers through her aura. No ominous sensation raced through him as his fingers glided effortlessly through. Yet, the color continued to trouble him.

  Wat
ching her, he couldn’t help but observe her as another human would. She was a stunning woman, one who should not be traipsing around the world saving children, but at home raising a family with the man or woman of her choosing.

  He’d seen women like her before, others did not hesitate to indicate interest in such beautiful people. Light glancing off brought a glossy shine to her thick, ebony hair. Bright blue eyes seemed to mirror the heavens called out to his soul. She was not slender though not “fat” as humans called it either. Cassandra held the curves that angels sought after when selecting a breeding partner; as that was the only time they indulged in sins of the flesh, and only with another angel. She was thick enough that he could couple with her and not worry, but not so thick he couldn’t wrap her in his arms.

  That is the most ridiculous thought you have ever had. Head out of your ass, Gabe.

  Gabe turned away from his charge, and with a mighty thrust of his wings, rose into the air. As humans expected, angels lived high above them amongst the clouds. Despite their appearance, clouds were more than fluff; they supported an entire community of near-immortal beings. Angels could fly from cloud to cloud, but they could not pass through, save for the barrier that hid their home from the humans below.

  Breaking through the cloud layer, he turned to avoid a collision with a Scholar Angel, one who flew erratically due to the weight of materials he carried. Gabe’s cloud was close, and it took him one more burst of strength and downward thrust of his wings to land on it. His wings folded against his back as he pushed open the door, and quite literally, stepped inside a cloud.