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Savage Angel

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by Stacy Gail




  Savage Angel

  By Stacy Gail

  Book two in The Earth Angels

  Feel nothing. Sara Savitch’s personal mantra has been hard to live by ever since her torrid one-night stand with army doctor Gideon Mandeville. Descended from the Seraphim, angels known as heaven’s soldiers, Sara may be an expert fighter, but she’s an amateur when it comes to relationships.

  Physically unharmed, but still battle-scarred, Gideon has returned to Dallas in the hopes of regaining his faith in humanity—and in himself. Instead he’s walked into a nightmare. His father is on a serial killer’s hit list, and has hired a personal bodyguard—the very woman who has haunted Gideon’s dreams for a year.

  As Sara works to build an impenetrable fortress around her client, she yearns to tear down the one around Gideon’s heart. With his bitter rejection of warriors, will he ever be able to accept her true nature? Sara must find a way to trust Gideon with her secret as the killer closes in...

  Find out how it all began in Nobody’s Angel, available now!

  55,000 wordsds

  Dear Reader,

  This February, we decided that we would do something a little different for the month that usually celebrates Valentine’s Day. Not everything always needs to be hearts and roses—sometimes it can be swords, mayhem and spaceships as well—so we’re using this month to not only debut new science fiction and fantasy authors and series, but also to reintroduce some returning authors in these genres. And, of course, since we’re a publisher of variety, we have even more genres on offer this month.

  Debut author Steve Vera brings us Drynn, book one in his Last of the Shardyn urban fantasy trilogy. The heroes of two worlds reluctantly join forces to fight the Lord of the Underworld. Joining Steve in the urban fantasy category is David Bridger, returning with his sequel to Quarter Square. Golden Triangle is the story of a golden man, werewolf bikers and two nemeses.

  How Beauty Saved the Beast is the second book in Jax Garren’s continuing science fiction romance trilogy, and the sexual tension is ramping up! A burlesque dancer and a scarred soldier defend a colony of anarchists as friends and fellow agents, but when a new weapon threatens to rip them apart, sparks fly as the dancer must take the lead in a fight for the soldier’s life. Don’t miss the trilogy’s conclusion in May.

  Returning authors Stacy Gail, Inez Kelley, Shona Husk and Christopher Beats all deliver their respective book twos this month, all in four different genres. Don’t miss paranormal romance Savage Angel, fantasy romance Time Dancer, Western fantasy romance Dark Secrets and steampunk mystery Vacant Graves.

  Also in February, author Shawna Thomas launches her newest fantasy series with Journey of Awakening. Trained from birth for one purpose, Sara must reunite three ancient stones to restore balance to the land, but one of the stone keepers has other plans.

  Longing for a heroine who’s not your typical heroine? Have an interest in a unique fairy tale retelling? Tia Nevitt delivers both in her latest Accidental Enchantments offering, The Magic Mirror and the Seventh Dwarf, a Snow White retelling where the seventh dwarf is a young woman who walks into adventure with a runaway princess, a prince cursed by a magic mirror, and a romance of her own.

  Last, but definitely not least, are our February offerings for those of you who want to read outside of science fiction, fantasy and paranormal. Mystery author Monique Domovitch joins Carina Press with Getting Skinny, the first in her Chef Landry Mystery series. Charlie Cochrane delivers another heart-wrenching tale of love in male/male historical Promises Made Under Fire. And cool Southern belle Althea Grant’s subdued life as an art gallery owner burns out of control when a seductive bad-boy metal sculptor pushes her to explore her deepest, most thrilling desires in Platinum, Jeffe Kennedy’s newest BDSM erotic romance book.

  We’re pleased to introduce debut author Darcy Daniel with her contemporary romance Playing the Part. Famous actress Anthea Cane meets her match when she encounters an enigmatic blind farmer...but has she also met the man of her dreams?

  And despite my claim that not everything has to be hearts and roses, I’m still a die-hard romantic, so I hope all of you discover an amazing happily ever after this Valentine’s Day, whether between the pages of a Carina Press book or channel surfing on the couch next to you.

  We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to generalinquiries@carinapress.com. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.

  Happy reading!

  ~Angela James

  Executive Editor, Carina Press

  www.carinapress.com

  www.twitter.com/carinapress

  www.facebook.com/carinapress

  Dedication

  To Elizabeth Sue and her fictional creation, Sterling Savage. Thanks for helping me name Sara, Mom.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  If Sara didn’t know better, she’d swear she was having a heart attack.

  Swallowing the last of the piece of chocolate she’d been nursing along, she glanced at the GPS to make sure she was on the right track. With less than two miles to go through the sun-baked, oak-shrouded hills outside of Dallas, the readout told her she would reach the Mandeville estate in five minutes.

  Oh, man. Five minutes?

  Her palms became slick against the steering wheel of the armor-plated, custom-made luxury sedan, the standard ride for Lynchpin Security International’s executive agents. Perspiration prickled along her brow despite the whisper of the car’s air conditioning. Her lungs malfunctioned until they were incapable of pulling in an adequate supply of oxygen, and her pulse went from normal to hot-box of crazy in less than a second.

  Damn. Maybe she really was having a heart attack.

  Before Sara could decide whether or not she should hit the abort button on her mission and check into the nearest clinic, the no-nonsense blip of her ringtone sounded, loud enough to make her jump. Cursing her uncharacteristic edginess, she thumbed the appropriate button embedded in the steering wheel to activate the hands-free system.

  “Go for Sara.”

  “I was hoping to catch you before you made it to Noah’s,” came the voice of her father and current head of Lynchpin Security International, S. William Savitch. “How close are you?”

  Too close for any amount of comfort. “I’m almost there. For the record, I’m still hazy as to why I’m the one meeting with Noah Mandeville. He’s always been your client, not mine. I barely know the man.”

  “LSI doesn’t individualize its clientele. When one of us is on the job to protect and defend, we’re all on the job to protect and defend.”

  Sara knew that, in the same way she knew the sky was up and water was wet. It didn’t make her any happier. “Usually I have background information regarding security problems when I meet with a client, but Macbeth swore on his bag of CheeZee Puffs that there was none to give. He only said Noah wanted to meet with me, face to face. Has he given you any hint as to what’s going on?”

  “No, though that’s not surprising. Noah’s always had a flair for the dramatic.”

  “A flair for the dramatic is the one thing a bodyguard doesn’t need.” Out of sorts and wishing she cou
ld give into the childish desire to tell her father she didn’t want to be a part of Lynchpin anymore, she glanced again at the GPS.

  One mile.

  She sucked in a breath and held it before she could hyperventilate. “Maybe he’s planning another trip down to Mexico, and he’d like to make it out without being kidnapped this time around.”

  “Noah swore he’d never again cross the border after that fiasco. Since he’s kept that promise for fifteen long years, I don’t see him getting itchy feet to do it now.”

  “Someplace else, then?”

  “Could be, but again that would surprise me. Even if he wasn’t getting on in years, he’s only six months out from major heart surgery. I wouldn’t expect for him to suddenly get the yen for a young man’s adventure.”

  “Then I’m at a loss what this meeting could be about.” Visions that had nothing to do with personal security bubbled to the surface, visions that had haunted her for a year and had her heart trying to pound a hole through her chest. Perhaps this visit with Noah Mandeville wasn’t related to personal security at all. Maybe it had to do with his son.

  Gideon.

  “Just be on your toes from here on in,” her father advised. “As soon as you’re done at the Mandeville place, call in with a report. I’m on my way to the airport now, but I’ll keep my phone on for as long as I can. I’ll admit I’m as curious as you to find out what Noah’s got cooking, especially at this point in his life.”

  Sara didn’t have to ask what William meant as she hung up. Six months earlier, her father’s friend had been at death’s door with congestive heart failure, saved at the last second by a heart transplant that had been nothing short of a miracle. With both her father and Noah’s son out of the country, Sara had stepped in to sit by Noah’s bedside until he was out of the woods.

  Thankfully no one had considered it odd that she, a virtual stranger to Noah, chose to be there for him in his hour of need. The plain truth was she’d done it because she could do nothing else. It was the only thing she could think of to keep his son from worrying himself to death. As an Army doctor stationed in one of the worst hellholes Afghanistan had to offer, the one thing Gideon Mandeville hadn’t needed at that time was a distraction.

  “You have reached your destination.”

  “Shut up.” Sara punched a finger at the touch screen to turn the system off before guiding the car onto a well-maintained cement drive leading to a high wrought-iron gate. Allowing herself to get all tangled up with nerves was both unprofessional and unacceptable. After all, there was almost nothing on earth that had the ability to frighten her; every Savitch was known for their calm composure and steely self-reliance. She’d been bred to carry on the family business of protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves, and she was damn proud of it. She had reason to be. When it came to combat, weapons knowledge and tactical thinking, she was second to none.

  Unfortunately, that was pretty much all she knew. Maybe it was because her mother had died in childbirth and there hadn’t been that all-important feminine influence during her formative years, or maybe it was simply a fact of being wired with the mindset of a warrior. But the fact was she didn’t play well with others. She knew the basics of social etiquette, of course, but that was about it. Her knowledge about the intricacies between men and women was even more conspicuous by its absence. If she was in a competition with a man when it came to field-stripping an M-16, then it was all good; going toe-to-toe on any sort of battlefield was her idea of fun. Everything else, however, glued her tongue to the roof of her mouth. Small wonder her insides were tying themselves into a Gordian knot.

  Was this meeting about Gideon?

  As she stopped beside a security hut at the front gate, she took a deep breath to clamp down on the tizzy blowing up in her chest. Gideon was fine, she would have certainly heard about it if he weren’t. And it wasn’t like she was going to see him now, so this pseudo-panic attack was ridiculous. He was on the other side of the world, doing what trauma surgeons had to do at a base somewhere in Kandahar. The one thing he wasn’t doing at that moment was thinking about her.

  The errant thought made Sara wince. The truth hurt after all, and the biggest truth when it came to Gideon was that he didn’t give a crap she was even alive. She’d barely heard a single word from him after she’d first met him at his going-away party last year. And when she’d informed him that his father had finally returned home from the hospital four months earlier, she’d received a one-worded email in response—thanks.

  Not that she’d expected daily contact from him. Since she was a newbie when it came to the whole male-female dynamic, she honestly didn’t know what to expect. But the silence gushing from his end cut a swath of bitter disappointment right into the core of her, to the point where it left a hollow ache somewhere deep inside. Considering the fantasy-hot explosiveness they had discovered in each other the moment they met, Sara had thought—hoped—that Gideon would at least find time to write her a quick letter or email.

  Maybe this was how it was supposed to be between men and women when it came to one-night stands, she thought, trying to ignore the tension-fueled thump of her pulse against her ribs. For all she knew, she was one of those clingy, emotionally unbalanced psycho stalkers who thought being pushed up against a wall in the garage and ravished in the most magnificent way was a promise of forever, when in reality it had been nothing more than mindless, no-strings sex he’d already forgotten about.

  Was she a psycho stalker? Sara chewed on her lower lip, going over it for the millionth time since Gideon had been sent overseas. She’d written him four emails, after all. The first had been just to connect to him and let him know where she could be reached, and he’d answered right away with as much enthusiasm as she could have hoped for. The second email she’d sent had been an invitation to chat via Internet conference, and it had taken him nearly a week to answer. When he had, it had been distant and vaguely negative. The final two emails informing him of his father’s unexpected surgery and subsequent release from the hospital had been met with that one-word reply.

  Hell, maybe she was a stalker. But at the very least the bastard could have offered more than a single word of thanks.

  Sara’s eyes sharpened on the Austrian-made semi-automatic pistol riding on the hip of the guard that stepped out of the security hut, and she frowned as she hit the button to lower the car’s window. If this guy was an ordinary rent-a-cop, she was the Easter Bunny. “I’m looking for the Mandeville estate?”

  The guard’s eyes were hard with mistrust, a look she approved of wholeheartedly. “Name?”

  “Sarafinah Savitch, of Lynchpin Security International.” Before the guard could ask for it, she handed over her identification, then waited for him to check his visitor’s list. When she was at last waved through, her awareness sharpened as her training kicked in. Beyond the car windows she saw nothing more than a pecan tree-studded peace that was belied by a man with a gun at a heavily guarded gate. Something was up at the Mandevilles, and it didn’t take a private security specialist like her to see it.

  The paved drive leading from the main road was as smooth as glass and nearly a mile long. Eventually it ended in a graceful loop in front of a three-story Victorian house that seemed to go on forever. It looked like something out of a sugar-sweet storybook, complete with wide verandas, twin turrets on either side of the impressive structure and a whimsical cupola that sat like a cherry on top. The fairy tale façade crumbled the moment she climbed out of the car and the barest sweeping movement of security cameras caught her razor-keen attention. With a professional eye she counted eight remote camera locations in all, set in such a way there was only one minor blind spot coming up from the east through what appeared to be a rose garden. Deep-throated howls from dogs kicked up off to her left, past a carriage house that had been converted into a massive garage. She swiveled her head in that direction, the same direction that the breeze was blowing. Recognition that her scent was being carrie
d to an unseen dog run sent up another mental red flag. Unless she was mistaken, there were at least four full-grown dogs alerting to her presence the way any trained guard dog would.

  Armed guards at the gate, plus multiple security cameras, plus a pack of guard dogs. If she did the arithmetic right, it all added up to a grand total of something nasty.

  Nasty wasn’t a problem. Hell, nasty was her specialty. But still the question nagged at her. Why had Noah Mandeville specifically asked for her?

  The blazing heat of the late summer sun hammered down on her. She never noticed it. Nor did she think of the discomfort of wearing her usual black leather jacket to conceal the butterfly-backed shoulder holster she preferred. Her senses heightened further still, absorbing every aspect of her surroundings—the hum of gears of the automated cameras sweeping back and forth, the sound of the wind rustling through the fragrant rose bushes, the dogs jumping over each other to slam against what had to be a chain-link fence.

  And...movement.

  It was faint. Stealthy. Far back in the tree line where there was no path or outbuilding. Just sneaky movement where there shouldn’t be any.

  Her footsteps were as soundless as a cat’s as she moved back down the drive, seemingly away from the sound of something alive in the trees. But as soon as she rounded the bend, she left the paved road to dart into the tree line, avoiding the random twig or pecan without conscious thought. She moved more quietly than the wind, her breath shallowing out so that even its sound was no louder than that of the rustling of the leaves above her. A flicker of motion, something that shouldn’t be there, dropped her into a crouch, and she focused on the spot past the clumps of purple sage and red-tipped photina growing amongst the trees.

  There.

  Sara’s eyes narrowed. It was possible to be trained in such a way that surprise never got the better of her. Her father and Marcel, her lifelong sparring partner, had drummed that into her. Expecting the unexpected was the hallmark of not just the warriors born into the Savitch bloodline, but of every agent in Lynchpin. Surprise was the one reaction that could never be allowed.

 

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