That thought spurred her to choose a stack and get to work. With the bedroom doorway cleared, the next logical step was to make some space in the tiny seating area. According to Pam, there was a sofa somewhere behind the labyrinthine wall of bins and boxes. Common sense told her to work from the front to the back, which meant starting with the top two from the stack of plastic bins blocking access to the area.
The first, she discovered once she’d pried off the lid, was cram-packed with brightly-colored labels Craig had peeled from cans of vegetables. The next box contained empty tin cans of various sizes, presumably the ones formerly sporting all of those labels. Once stomped flat, the cans went into the recycling bin along with the similar contents of a third tote. The labels went into a bag to be recycled separately.
The bottom box from the pile, thankfully, contained something more interesting than trash. Books. About thirty or so, and all of the same type: cookbooks. All Adriel had time for was a quick glance through some of the pages, but the way the glossy pictures made her mouth water had her setting these aside for further perusal. The one with the melted cheese dip called fondue looked especially interesting.
Of all the inconveniences that came with a mortal body, eating was the only one she enjoyed.
Showers, though? Those seemed to require a set of skills she might never master. The water was either too cold or too hot and shampoo kept getting in her eye. Who had thought it was a good idea to make things slippery when wet? Twice the plastic bottle had squirted out of her hands to thump heavily into the tub—both times glancing painfully off one of her feet. The suds took forever to rinse out of her hair. A tedious process at best.
Getting dressed, at least, was quick. She only owned the one set of clothes which, thanks to the little washer and dryer, were now clean and unwrinkled. A half dozen tee shirts found in the bottom of the blanket box were now piled in the top dresser drawer. Two sizes too large, Adriel had decided to turn them into sleepwear.
So many new things to worry about.
Chapter 3
How hard could it be to patch up a few broken shingles in the siding? Adriel had tools, nails, shingles, and a book with pictures explaining the process. Piece of cake. Why did people say that? What does cake have to do with anything? Fitting in with mortals meant having to embrace a lot of strange language. Maybe another book would provide the answer to the cake question. Craig’s shelves held an eclectic mix of tomes; she’d have to look through them to see.
Selecting the right sized shingle was easy enough, but juggling it with the hammer and nail proved infinitely more difficult. Before she could bring the tool to bear, the nail slipped out of her fingers to land on the porch floor and roll, inevitably, between the cracks to the dirt below. The third time it happened, she muttered an expletive.
“Flink.” Angel filter struck again.
“The trick is to start the nail before you set the shingle into place.”
Frowning, Adriel whirled to see a strange man standing at the edge of the porch. Her startled green eyes locked onto a pair the blue-gray of storm clouds on a winter day. His twinkled while hers fired.
“Who are you?” The hammering of her heart came from being startled, of that she was certain. Mostly.
“Callum McCord. We’re neighbors.” Elbows resting on the top of her porch railing, Callum seemed in no hurry to move along.
“Oh. I see.” The newly human part of Adriel insisted on cataloging his physical attributes. Those soft gray eyes under a canopy of heavy, dark lashes winked out at her from a face that could have been chiseled on a statue back home. Wet hair slicked back from his face appeared jet black, but would probably dry to mahogany. A pair of cheerful dimples flashed into place every time he smiled.
Before she could lock it down, her gaze lowered to take in the rest of him.
Broad, tanned-to-perfection shoulders bared to the sun by some type of sleeveless outer garment rested above a chest that stretched that garment tightly. Made from orange-colored ribbed material that looked soft to the touch, it skimmed down the taut plain of his belly to where it was tucked into a pair of well-worn jeans.
While the mortal inside her enjoyed the spectacle, Adriel’s inner angel insisted his soul was the more important component, and she should stop admiring his form.
“Adriel.” She held out her hand in the human form of greeting, then bit her lip gently when the clasp of his sent a frisson of energy through her that any normal woman would have recognized as attraction. She found it unsettling.
“Want me to show you?”
His words seemed out of place now that her mind had wandered away from the earlier conversation. “What?”
“The shingle. Starting the nail.” His tone, one that indicated he was beginning to wonder if Adriel was scatterbrained, was punctuated by a single raised eyebrow.
“Oh.” She handed him the hammer. “Go right ahead.” Shake it off, she told herself.
Callum picked a shingle from the top of the bundle. “So you lay the shingle down flat like this,” he bent to lay the thin piece of wood on the porch floor, “take a nail,” he held one up to show her, “position it where it should go, and gently tap it once or twice. Just enough to start the nail into the wood, but not hard enough to push it all the way through.” With a deft motion he applied just the right amount of force. When he lifted the shingle up from the floor, the nail held its place.
Then, going to the wall, he slid the shingle into position and tapped the nail with two harder strikes to drive it home.
“See? Simple.”
Still a bit flustered over the rush of unwanted feelings, Adriel reached for the polite words the situation warranted. “Yes, thank you.” What she really wanted to say was, given enough time, she would have come up with the idea on her own. It might even have been true. But probably not. Who knew what would have come out of her if she’d tried to voice the lie.
“What do you think of Mrs. Keough’s ditch.” The brightly colored plastic chair creaked under his weight as Callum made himself at home on the porch. The way he kicked his feet out in front of him made it look like he planned on staying for a long visit.
“I could have lived without the incessant beeping in the morning.”
“Not a morning person?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that? Do I have a sign pinned on my back?”
“Turn around and let me look.” Callum’s tone shivered over newly discovered nerves.
To cover her discomfort, Adriel turned away to select her next shingle. Having watched him, she now knew exactly what to do. Two gentle taps set the nail as expertly as Callum’s had done. If she hadn’t already had it, her sure movements would have gotten his full attention. One eyebrow quirked while he watched her set the shingle and drive the nail home.
“You’re a quick study.”
“What? It’s not rocket science. Now, what were we talking about?”
“The ditch. What do you think of Lydia’s masterpiece? It’s the big topic around town. That and where did the gorgeous creature slinging pie and cake over at Just Desserts come from.” Face flaming, Adriel searched her mind for a diplomatic answer.
“Surely my opinion on town matters is unimportant.”
“And you’re not going to settle my curiosity on the other question, either. Don’t worry, I already know where you came from.” Callum’s booted feet hit the floor with a heavy sound as he levered himself out of the flimsy plastic chair.
“Oh really?”
“Sure.” Callum swept a look from Adriel’s head to her toes, “Woman as fine as you must have come from heaven.”
How could he know? Adriel’s pulse pounded until her ears drummed the sound. It was just a lucky guess. Nothing more.
“See you later, Angel.” Callum tossed the words carelessly over one shoulder and walked away without a backward glance, leaving Adriel to sink into the chair still warm from his body heat.
***
“That was one fine loo
king man.” Adriel twisted around so fast the legs on the chair couldn’t keep up with her. The whole thing started to go over, and if her reflexes were any less keen, Adriel would have gone down with it. Instead, she regained her footing and squared off against the newcomer who was now leaning sideways for a better view of Callum walking away.
“Estelle.” Appalled at the appreciation on the newly-minted angel’s face for a pair of tight jeans molded over a firmly packed behind, Adriel sputtered, “What are you doing here. Stop that.” She leaned over to put her body between Estelle and the view. What made it even worse was Estelle appearing in the form Adriel knew best—an eighty-year-old with kind blue eyes surrounded by wrinkles born of laughter. That grandmotherly face ogling a man half the age she’d been when she took her last breath was not just unsettling; it was scandalous. “Gawking at mortals is not allowed.”
“Really? No one told me.” Estelle shrugged off the faux pas without an iota of repentance.
Since Estelle was in corporeal form, Adriel gave her a nudge. “Come inside and tell me everything that’s happened to you since we lost control of the bridge.” So many questions formed in Adriel’s mind that she knew choosing the most important ones was going to be impossible.
“He was flirting with you.” Estelle made no rush toward the door. Her comment sent heat flaring across Adriel’s face. What am I supposed to do with that information? Adriel wondered. Angels don’t date.
But then again, she wasn’t an angel. She didn’t think. Not anymore.
Completely unaffected by Adriel’s stare of rebuke, Estelle chuckled before going inside, where she stopped just inside the door. Shock sent her eyebrows skyward and rounded her mouth into an O. Watching Estelle take in the level of clutter—reduced though it was—of her current abode brought a grin to Adriel’s face
“The former tenant liked to collect things.” She kept her tone mild.
“So I see.” Estelle’s gaze searched Adriel for signs of distress and fear. In life, Estelle read people nearly as well as any angel. Gaining guardian status boosted the ability up to devastating.
“I’m sorry. These kitchen chairs are all I have available just now. I’m working on clearing the way to the sofa.”
Estelle opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, and closed her mouth again. Her moment of discomfort set Adriel a little more at ease.
“Julius, he’s okay? What happened to the two of you after I…after it happened? You didn’t get into trouble because of me did you?”
“He’s fine. We’re guardians on a high profile case. Very important.”
Relief sagged Adriel’s shoulders. For days now, she’d carried the burden of knowing Julius and Estelle might have been called on to pay for her mistakes. Dropping that weight made her feel lighter than she had in days.
“How much trouble am I in?” A second passed. Estelle tried to cover the hesitation, but Adriel was no slouch in the people reading department either. “Just tell me. I can take it,” she said.
To her credit, Estelle made no effort at pretense. “Your situation has created quite a stir among the powers that be.”
“You should stay away from me.” It felt like an epic understatement when Adriel said it. Trepidation dried her mouth making the words falter. What she never expected was the look of surprise on Estelle’s face.
“What makes you say that?”
Now it was Adriel’s turn for wide-eyed shock. She gestured toward the room, “I’m a fallen angel, an abomination thrown out of my home to live here among the castoffs of an..” What would be the nicest word to use here? “Eccentric man. I’ve become human. The only thing I don’t understand is how I ended up here instead of in the dark realm.” Unexpected bitterness colored her tone, so much for having accepted her situation. “And why did it take three months?”
“Didn’t…” Eyebrows lifted into Estelle’s hairline. “No, you've had no contact with…anyone.” Adriel felt like a bug on a pin when Estelle circled the table to get up close and personal, looking for something inside her. ”There’s a block on your powers.”
“What powers? I’m just a mortal, right? You know, fallen angel. Cast out of heaven. No wings, no powers, just an unyielding hunk of flesh requiring constant care and attention. Showers, food, bathroom….activities.” Revulsion made Adriel cringe.
“I had no idea you were completely in the dark.” Instead of sitting back down, Estelle put a kettle on to boil for tea.
“Then why don’t you enlighten me?”
Cabinets opened and closed. A cup and saucer appeared at Adriel’s elbow while Estelle tried to find the right place to begin. “It’s complicated. Nothing like this has ever happened before. You’ve had some fleeting moments where it seemed like you still had access to your abilities.” It wasn’t a question, somehow she knew, and Adriel nodded.
“But you still don’t know what you are.”
“A human who occasionally enjoys some fancy extras?”
The force of Estelle’s annoyance felt like a living thing, making Adriel wonder if this was how her charges felt when she subjected them to her own annoyance. Maybe she hadn’t been as helpful as she’d always thought.
“That’s backwards thinking. You are an angel in a human body and I’ve been given the unenviable task of being your assistant or something. There are some ambiguities in my current job description.”
“Assistant? Don’t you mean guardian? For you to assist me, I’d have to be doing some kind of work and with my powers gone, I’m next to useless. You’ve been sent on a fool’s errand, Estelle. Go back to your high profile case. Leave me to my misery.”
Petulance earned Adriel a look that landed with an almost visceral blow. Estelle’s mouth firmed into a straight line. Adriel didn’t need to read her mind to know Estelle thought she was acting childish. She wasn’t wrong either.
Estelle’s power trickled through the air to tiptoe across Adriel’s limbs, leaving a line of gooseflesh in its wake. Each strand of hair on her arms lifted, and the skin on the back of her neck began to crawl. For the first time ever, Adriel felt guilty for having treated certain mortals to similar experiences.
“Stop that!” Loud in the otherwise quiet room, Adriel’s shout startled Estelle, and the energy dissipated enough to release the tightness in her throat. “Estelle, get hold of yourself.” If mild annoyance brought out that much power, she was destined to become one formidable angel. Not that Adriel should be the one to guide her. Whoever had sent Estelle to this place had made a terrible mistake.
“I’m sorry. I had no idea.” Light swelled from the angel to reach toward Adriel, then pulled back as though Estelle was afraid her touch might cause pain. “This is why I need you to teach me. You’re my high profile case.” The you idiot at the end was only implied.
“You need to learn from someone at the peak of their powers, not some half shell of a former angel who has fallen from grace.”
Estelle slapped hands over her eyes, took a deep breath to compose her features, squared her shoulders, then dropped her hands to pin Adriel with a you’re-an-idiot look.
“You did not fall from grace.”
How could she say that? Falling for what seemed like an eternity—feeling her body rushing toward the earth like a hammer dropping on an anvil; the wrenching, weightless lurching in her belly; the moment when her wings tore away, and then waking up to the heaviness of mortal flesh pressing against her soul—those were not normal experiences for an angel.
Falling was falling, no matter what Estelle wanted to call it.
Then a new thought hit Adriel. If she hadn’t fallen from grace, maybe she’d been thrown. Cast out of heaven. That was even worse.
“Just go, Estelle. What do you expect to learn from me if I’m bound for hell?”
For a flashing second Estelle’s energy skyrocketed again to a breath-stealing level. Adriel’s eyes burned dry, and then the pressure dropped as quickly as it had begun.
“You silly creatur
e. Will you stop feeling sorry for yourself for just long enough to listen to what I am trying to tell you?”
Once upon a time. Okay, three months or so ago, angel or not, Adriel could have tuned into Estelle’s thoughts without leaving any sign she’d been there. Now, she could only judge moods based on facial expressions and posture. Set face, shoulders tight with tension, hands resting on her hips, and body leaning slightly forward—Estelle was angry and frustrated.
“You did not fall. You were not cast out.” She emphasized each word. “I’m new to angelhood—if that’s even a word—and no one really tells me anything useful because, as I said, I’m new. They’re keeping your status hush, but from what I’ve been able to piece together, they theorize the bridge snapping tossed you backward dimensionally turning you into a physical anchor to this world.”
“How is being tossed backward different from being cast out?”
“You’re not listening to me at all. Angel. In. A. Human. Body,” Estelle punctuated each word by tapping the tabletop with her fingers.
“What does that even mean? I have tiny flashes of power I can’t control, and everyone from home acts like I don’t exist. Believe me, I’ve called out to everyone I know.” That was the burning question in Adriel’s mind. Why, if she really was still some sort of an angel, had she been completely cut off from all contact with home?
“No one has told me how it all works. Honestly, I’m beginning to think it's because they don’t have a clue. You still have powers. I can feel them inside you. They’re—I’m not sure how to describe it exactly—choked with humanity. Muted by being bound to solid flesh, maybe. Or just by you believing they’re limited. You’d be the best judge of that, and you’d better plan on figuring it out soon, because this is only the beginning.”
“Beginning of what?” Adriel wasn’t even sure she wanted to know.
“Your next set of assignments,” Estelle said.
“My next set of assignments?”
“What? You thought the powers were done with you? That they wouldn’t find a way to capitalize on your unique situation?”
Earthbound Bones Page 4
