Daman's Angel

by Charmaine Ross

  She touched the petals, imagining their brilliance and natural glory. The burned brown disappeared, replaced with the buttercup yellow of the rest of the buds, the drooping petals perked upwards, plump and shapely. She withdrew her finger, happy that the flower was amongst its beautiful sisters. She breathed in, enjoying the subtle scent.

  “There now. That’s much better,” she murmured. She smiled as she turned to watch and enjoy her husband swinging her precious daughter on the swing. It was worth fighting for this blessing.

  THE END

  Her Angel Protector

  What happens when your most horrific nightmare becomes a reality?

  When she is attacked by the very demons that haunt her nightmares, the man from Darcy’s dreams comes to rescue her. Only Ronan isn’t a man. He’s an Angel. And he isn’t happy to see her. He’s angry. Very angry.

  Then he proceeds to tell her the nightmare is real. And she’s in more danger than she could possibly comprehend. Not only that, she’s also an Angel and they have to fight the strongest demon ever created — Asmodeus — and stop him bringing Hell to Earth.

  The thing is, she has no memory of being an Angel. She can’t wield a sword. She has no wings. And she’s a pacifist. A humble graphic designer who just wants to start her own business.

  In order to defeat Asmodeus, Darcy must regain her Angel-Power using the chakra power-centres of the Earth, while battling lesser demons and her overwhelming desire for Ronan she feels with every cell in her body.

  Prologue - excerpt

  The ruffled hem of the bulky skirt tangled around her bare feet, trying its best to trip her up. She glanced behind, stumbled, but somehow managed to stay on her feet. She clutched the material at her thighs, lifting it clear off the ground.

  If she fell, it would mean her death.

  Gnarly tree-limbs reached for her, their branches embracing, leaves kissing. No sunlight touched the ground where she ran. All around was a sea of varying hues and deep, secret shadows. Her feet pounded over fallen leaves, throwing up the musty smell of earthy dampness. Her breath rasped. Rough, erratic panting in sync with her hammering heartbeat. Adrenaline punched her veins, screaming at her to run, be fast—faster than the things hunting her. Run. Run. Run for your life.

  Things—monsters—crashed through the undergrowth behind her. Branches snapped with a crack that shattered through the forest. Heavy feet pounded the earth, hooves thumping in a steady beat. A snort. A huff of breath. They were close. Too close.

  She turned; couldn’t help the impulse. She tripped on damp leaves. Another snort. A putrid smell rent the air. She flipped onto her back, gasping, heels and elbows slipping on the wet ground, her movements frantic. Get away. Get back. Back on your feet and run, run, run.

  The more she tried, the more she slid. A black shadow leached from the darkness between the trees. A face. Sunken, red eyes in skin so black she barely made out holes for nostrils and a slit for a mouth. The eyes trained on her, malevolent. Triumphant.

  A monster.

  She slammed into something solid. Rough bark scratched her skin. A tree. The monster moved towards her. Thick legs supported its massive bulk, muscles rippling beneath matt-black skin. Claws slashed into the earth, tearing through the leaves. The mandible gaped, revealing thick yellowed fangs, dripping with the stench of awaiting death.

  She used the tree trunk to lean on, dig her heels into the dirt and staggered to her feet. The creature hunkered, eyes trained, claws digging into the earth to spring. To kill. She didn’t want to die. Wouldn’t die without a fight.

  Her skin tingled with an unknown sensation much like pins and needles, heat rising from every pore, but instead of pouring outwards, the heat sunk inside, merging into her body, her muscles, cells, becoming the very substance of her, colliding into itself before it balled in the pit of her stomach. She burned. Her senses heightened, she felt the air touching her skin, the unseen moisture in molecules, the energy holding it all together. Her body, mind, everything around her was one.

  The heat inside was a living, writhing energy. Waiting. Pulsing. There was an urge to push it out, away. It would do as she directed. She wanted to send it out towards the creature so that she could be safe. The heat vibrated, understanding what she wanted.

  ‘Sephya. No!’

  The voice caught her unaware. Her attention sprung to a man, crashing through the trees towards her. The beast leapt, its huge form flying towards her.

  Flames arched through the air. A sword; slashing the hulking body in half. The creature screamed, a hideous high-pitched sound, fury and pain rolled into one. Two sides thumped to the earth, separated.

  Black blood exploded over the man and herself. An acid burn she couldn’t rub off. Scorching pain sunk into her skin.

  The man faced her. Blue eyes, bluer than the Pacific Ocean bored into her. Anger, rage blasted through their depths. As though it were her fault the monster had attacked. She gasped, clutching the tree behind her with both hands as the intensity of his anger swept through her, heedless of the scratchy bark jabbing her back.

  The man swore softly and the anger gave way to pure, soulful longing, the eyes deepening into indigo. The sword fell to the ground, sizzling against the damp leaves. The anger was gone, but the intensity—the connection—remained.

  Her eyes swept the length of his body. Jeans rode low on narrow hips, bare feet kissed the damp ground. A myriad of tattoos wound about his body. Serpents, their tails entwined, ships on water, clouds, and figures. Each one beautiful and detailed, but failed to hide smooth skin over a river-bed of toned muscle.

  He walked towards her, less than an arms distance away, never taking his eyes from hers. His gaze spoke, pulling at a familiarity she couldn’t quite find, couldn’t quite touch. A whisper of a memory floated through her mind, cloudy and indistinct. She wanted to form his name in her lips, but there was none to find.

  She’d seen his face many times, in many dreams. But not this close. Never this clearly.

  His gaze dropped to her arms and the anger returned. He raised his hand. Cupped her cheek, a movement so tenderly that she tilted her head into his palm. A heated shiver crashed through her body, tingles racing across her skin. His mouth twisted as through trying to smile beyond tears. His skin blazed with dancing flames, rising high behind his back, arching into the sky. ‘Wake, Sephya.’

  ‘I want to be with you.’ She didn’t know why she said that. Only knew this was a certainty, that she wanted him like no-one else. She placed her hand over his, keeping his hand on her cheek, drinking in the feel of him against her skin.

  His mouth turned down. The tears were winning and when he looked at her again flames danced from the moisture in his eyes. ‘Wake, Sephya. I will keep you safe. I promise. Wake.’

  ‘No...’

  ‘Wake.’

  Darcy blinked her eyes open to the red electronic numbers of her alarm clock, drawing in a deep breath that was more of a noisy gasp. She crashed back into the pillow, panting as though she’d run a mile. A bead of perspiration trickled from her forehead onto the pillow.

  A dream! Just a dream. But a dream so real it was as though she’d been there. She touched her cheek. She could still feel his palm there. The heat from his fingers still tingling her skin. But it wasn’t real. None of it was. Her hand slipped from her cheek.

  She flopped onto her back, staring at the ceiling, her breathing returning to normal. The dreams were becoming more and more real, more and more vivid. More violent. This was the first time the monster had gotten so close. In other dreams, she’d run through the forest and had known something was chasing her, but she’d always woken before anything had happened. She’d never seen the creature before. This time she had. And it had nearly killed her.

  If the man hadn’t come when he did…She shivered. This dream was so tangible, she could almost believe it could happen. If the creature had gotten her, would she have woken?

  And the man. N
ow that she was awake, his features blurred until she couldn’t remember his face clearly at all. The more she tried to recall the details of his face, his body, the more her memory eluded her. This wasn’t the first time he’d invaded her dreams. Sometimes there was nothing but a feeling he was close, other times it was a tattooed arm, a torso, his eyes. But this time he had touched her. He’d never done that before either. And she had felt an intense sadness that radiated off him like a living thing, his sadness had caught like wildfire within her chest; a pain shared. She really, really wanted to remember this man. He was important to her, as much as a dream man could be important.

  Dream men were the closest thing she got to a relationship these days. Starting up a fledgling graphic design business left little room or energy for a romance. Besides, when she came close, the dreams would come more often, as well as lingering memories of him. No mortal man could stand up to him. By sheer presence alone, all else faded. He’d persist in her thoughts until she moved away from any potential boyfriend. Then he would recede and she would get a few nights peaceful sleep. Until the next dream of running scared, full of fear in the forest would invade her dreams.

  And he was always there to save her. The thing was, she needed him in life than just in a dream. This time she’d seen the monster. This time she knew what chased her and the knowing was more terrifying than the not knowing. Would he save her again?

  She sighed, rolling her head to read the clock. Red figures flashed, stuck on twelve. Damn — the electricity had gone out during the night. Sunlight streamed through the window. She didn’t know what time it was but she would bet she was already late. Sighing again, she swung her body out of bed, already tired even though the day was just starting.

  Chapter One

  Darkness was already falling by the time she found a parking spot at the back of the building of her latest client. If he wasn’t a potentially large client, she would never be here at this time or in this part of town. Darcy sighed. At this early stage of her business, she didn’t have much choice of clients.

  Clutching her portfolio of designs for a proposed change of corporate identity she had spent hours designing, Darcy paced around the building and onto the path of the lit, main road. She felt a bit more secure out of the shadows, as if the darkness held a million eyes peering at her. Or maybe one pair or large red, glowing eyes, like the monster from her dreams. It lived in shadows as deep and as thick in the forest as the ones behind the building. She hoped the lot would be lit when she got back. After her meeting, it was sure to be pitch-black back there and she really didn’t fancy walking head-long into such darkness.

  She approached the door to the office building, mentally shaking herself. She needed to get a grip. Her imagination was getting the better of her, like it usually did. How often had she been caught in a day dream; staring out a window when she should have been working, or driving, or anything else she should be giving her attention to.

  She blinked back into reality, noting the things around her that usually grounded her back into the moment. The sign etched in gold lettering on the glass door, ‘Adam De Silva Accountants and Financial Planning.’ The greyed-out glazing of the squeaky clean windows. The smell of fresh carpet and a sombre work environment greeted her as she entered the plush reception area.

  A young woman in her early twenties with a straight dark ponytail and perfectly made up cat’s eyes greeted her with a warm smile from behind a massive, sleek desk. ‘Hi Darcy. Are you here to see Adam?’

  Darcy returned her smile. She liked the girl, although their conversations had only been brief so far. Her dark eyes lit with intelligence and comprehension that told Darcy she wouldn’t be sitting behind this desk for long. ‘Hi Jennifer. Yes. He’s expecting me at five thirty.’

  ‘I’ll let him know you’re here.’ Jennifer dialled her phone, speaking into the receiver, before saying, ‘Go right in. He’s ready for you. Good luck. Fingers crossed for you.’

  ‘I hope he likes these designs. I’ve worked extensively on them.’ At the last interview Adam had picked through her designs, telling her than none of them called out to him. In order to secure the job, Darcy had told him she would re-design and re-submit, although personally she knew that her original designs were good and would have positioned his business alongside much larger accountancy firms.

  Darcy crossed her fingers as she knocked on Adam’s door and stepped into his office. He sat behind his desk as she entered, speaking into his phone. He waved her in as he spoke and directed her to a chair.

  She watched him as she sat. They way men went, she supposed he was handsome. Tall, dark, dressed in a well-cut expensive suit of some designer brand she didn’t know and was way out of her price-league anyway. His features were chiselled, straight nose, dark eyes, stylish stubble. There was a hint of a double chin beneath the stubble, telling of his physical inactivity from sitting behind a desk every day. She wasn’t going to judge him on that though. She often spent the better part of her day behind a computer; working her designs, although she tried to hit the gym every second day.

  Adam ended the phone call, rising from his chair and placing his steepled fingers on his desk. She didn’t miss the position of power it gave him, her in the seat, him standing above her. A God in his own office. ‘Good to see you, Darcy.’

  She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. That wouldn’t be very professional. Instead she stood, holding out her hand to shake his. She knew this game and wasn’t going to play. She was a business woman in her own right, even though her business was nowhere this size at this moment in time.

  Adam stepped around the desk and sat on the corner. He worked his tie open a little and shrugged off his jacket, throwing it onto the back of his chair. ‘You don’t mind if I loosen up a little? The end of the day and everything.’ He gave her an apologetic smile.

  ‘That’s fine.’ She found she did mind. Even though it was technically after hours, this was still a business meeting and she wanted to keep it professional. ‘Where would you like to view the samples?’

  Adam rose from the desk, gesturing to the clean surface. ‘Is this enough room?’

  She nodded, ‘More than enough. Thank you.’ She opened the portfolio to reveal a spread of proposed logo, stationery, and colour chart. ‘I’ll start from here if you like. There’s three spreads, all a little different, but along the lines of what I think you’re after.’

  Adam came behind her, standing so close she felt his body heat through her jacket. Too close to be professional. She glanced over her shoulder at him, chancing a peek at his face, resisting the urge to move away from him. He kept his eyes on the portfolio, ignoring her glance. His closeness made her uncomfortable, but it could be just her imagination. Maybe the dream from last night had unnerved her more than she’d thought. She cleared her throat, returning her attention to the designs and pointed out the new logo.

  ‘We’ll start here. I’ve used a serif font for your logo in a golden colour to signify wealth and prosperity, which is what your business stands for. The graphic here symbolises people speaking and listening, which I have tied together with this oval. So your business name become synonymous with business success, as well as incorporating the importance of people both customers and internal.’

  ‘Hmmm. That sounds good. I like the blue and golds.’

  Warm breath caressed the back of her neck. She inched away, succumbing to the urge to break any physical contact, positioning herself so that she faced him and pointed out the business card. ‘We can use these colours throughout all of your stationery. Business cards, letterhead, folders, invoicing, anything. I have selected the pantone colours so that there will be no trouble in matching paint colours or material samples should anything arise.’

  ‘That’s very thoughtful. I like the way you think.’

  Her eyes found his. He wasn’t even looking at the samples. His gaze was laced with something she didn’t like the look of. Something that went way bey
ond what this meeting was about. He was coming onto her. She hadn’t imagined it. Irritation melted away the trepidation she’d had about this meeting. She had worked damn hard on these designs and he was damn well going to get back to business.

  She turned the page, opening onto another spread. ‘As you can see here, I have changed the colour scheme to a brighter blue and burnt orange. These colours are very striking together and none of your competitors are using them. This gives you an opportunity to stand out amongst the crowd.’

  He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. ‘You’re a very intelligent woman.’

  She brushed his hand away, stepping back, annoyance exploding into anger. ‘Get your hands off me. I haven’t come here for this. I’ve come here for business. Are you going to discuss it or not?’

  His mouth twisted into a smug line. ‘I like your work. I think you can handle what I need for the business, which is quite a substantial contract.’

  ‘Thank you for your trust in my ability.’

  ‘However, there are a lot of other graphic artists out there, also looking for this contract.’

  Darcy clenched her teeth, heat swirled in the pit of her stomach, rising up her neck. ‘You gave me the impression you were interested in my designs more than any other agency.’

  ‘Well, let’s face it, one graphic designer is pretty much like another.’

  ‘That is a matter of opinion.’

  ‘Yes. It is. But I find I like this graphic designer more than the bloke down the road. Which I can get to do the work as easily as I can get you to do the work.’

  He stroked her cheek with the tip of his finger, leaving a sickly trail she wanted to wipe off. ‘Are you insinuating that you’ll only give me the work if I …’ She couldn’t choke out the words.