Angel Dreams (An Angel Falls Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One: Perks

  Chapter Two: Reality Check

  Chapter Three: Glimpses

  Chapter Four: Call to Action

  Chapter Five: Never Surrender

  Chapter Six: Personality Disorders

  Chapter Seven: Ghosts and Goodbyes

  Chapter Eight: Victims

  Chapter Nine: Danger in the Wild

  Chapter Ten: Invisible

  Chapter Eleven: Faces of Fear

  Chapter Twelve: Binding

  Chapter Thirteen: Cleansing Blood and Bone

  Chapter Fourteen: A New Reality

  Chapter Fifteen: Learning to Say Goodbye

  Chapter Sixteen: Thumb Screws Preferred

  Chapter Seventeen: Fantasy and Reality

  Chapter Eighteen: Boundaries

  Chapter Nineteen: Unfortunate Events

  Chapter Twenty: Terror’s Turn

  Chapter Twenty-one: Soul Stealing

  Chapter Twenty-two: Finding a Bear

  Chapter Twenty-three: The Dark and The Light

  Chapter Twenty-four: The Lumps

  Chapter Twenty-five: Saving a Life

  Chapter Twenty-six: Taking Things Slow

  Other Works Available

  Haunting Me

  Read a Preview From The Night Medicine

  About the Author

  On the Back Cover

  Angel Dreams

  An Angel Falls – Book 2

  Jody A. Kessler

  Copyright

  © 2015 by Jody A. Kessler

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator.”

  Please visit:

  www.JodyAKessler.com

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  An Angel Falls novella.

  ISBN: 978-0-9862406-4-5

  E book ISBN: 978-0-9862406-5-2

  Edited by

  J. Farrah & M. Hull

  Cover Art & Design by

  Laura Gordon

  www.thebookcovermachine.com

  Ebooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition January 2015

  Dedication

  To Nancy and John.

  Without you this novel would not exist.

  Chapter One: Perks

  Nathaniel

  Life could go on without us. Leave us behind like a painting on a wall, a captured image of sunlight and trees and two people serene as the river winding its way through these mountains. We will exist in our own world and live as if we’re the only two beings in existence. The appeal to stop time and extend this happiness to the end of eternity is as real for me as the illusion of time itself. If we could stay like this, the excitement, the newness, the pleasure of finding someone so fascinating, and so beautiful, and so perfect, would we leave the bounds of time to spend an eternal day together? Wouldn’t anyone live out the best moment of their life forever, given the opportunity? I can’t choose for her, but if I had the choice to change my reality, I would. Unfortunately, time is more powerful than the sun or the moon and I know our time is limited. How long do we have? Only time will tell.

  Juliana wades barefoot in the rocky creek with her pant legs rolled up to her knees. I’m content to stay along the bank enraptured by her enthusiasm for the simple pleasure of enjoying the day.

  “Come in, it’s positively freezing.”

  She smiles at me and I can all but feel her little deviling pixies pushing me forward. How can I resist that smile of hers? I manage, but only because I want to see what else she will do to get me in the water with her.

  “Very persuasive, but no thanks.”

  “It’s not like you’ll feel it anyway, or will you?”

  Her emerald eyes meet mine with curiosity. They sparkle like the rippling water swirling around her ankles. “No, I can’t feel the water when I’m like this,” I say. Watching her response, I’m again surprised that it doesn’t bother her that I am not a living breathing human like herself. She only has more questions.

  “So if I do this,” she bends forward and flicks her hand across the surface of the water sending a spray of droplets at me, “you don’t feel a thing?”

  “Nothing,” I answer as the drops pass through me and land randomly around my feet.

  “What about when you’re solid?”

  “Yes. When I manifest my body, I feel the water the same way you do. No, I take that back. I don’t feel it exactly the way you do. When I was alive I didn’t wade around in freezing cold creeks for fun. Are your toes still attached?”

  “My toes are perfectly fine, thank you.” She kicks some more water at me. “So you can come in here and you won’t feel a thing.”

  “I prefer the land if it’s all the same to you.”

  “Nope, not the same, you should come in, and with your real body. I swear it’s not that terrible.”

  “Still going to pass.” I give her a quick wink and a grin.

  “Don’t you want to feel the rocks under your feet or the silt between your toes?” She holds her hand out to me.

  I shrug and shake my head. Feeling her hand in mine is the only real appeal of her offer. “You forgot to sell me on the algae and the leeches.”

  “Come on, nothing can hurt you. We’re going over the hill so you have to cross eventually.”

  “Over that hill?” Her version of hill and mine are vastly different. “That’s a mountain if I’ve ever seen one.”

  “Mountain, hill, tomato, tomoto. Yes, we’re going up there.”

  “And why did the chicken cross the road?”

  She gives me one of her beatific smiles. It’s wide and brightens her entire being.

  “Exactly. To get to the other side. Good to know we’re on the same page.”

  Moving like a tiptoeing fox, she leaves the water and comes over to me. Her agility and gracefulness doesn’t escape me. Everything about Juliana Crowson, more than I could have ever imagined, wraps itself around me and fills a need I didn’t know was there. I reach out to brush my fingertips over the back of her hand. She looks up at me and I feel something in my chest expand. “You’re a sly fox, you know.”

  Her nearness and those green eyes of hers make my voice alter somehow. It’s low and rough, choked with feeling. Being with her has caused my entire universe to shift and, as far as I’m concerned, there is no going back. I’ve found someone who can not only see me, but wants me to stay around.

  “Sly? No, I didn’t know. You said foxes see things that others can’t. I see you, and others cannot. What’s that have to do with being sly?”

  “Because, now I have to know where you’re taking me. I was content to stay here with you all day, but now, I’m feeling the urge to go mountain climbing.”

  “Good. It’s a surprise. No
w will you cross this teensy weensy mountain stream?”

  “Are you specifying in what form you would like me to do that?”

  “Well, you said if you don’t have a physical body then you could stay with me longer, so let’s not push things. Any way you want.”

  Her smile turns to one of sweet innocence. I look up the steep incline on the other side of the creek and then down at her. Her stamina for prowling around the mountains is fascinating. We’ve spent most of the morning walking and exploring the area around our campsite, which is owned by her grandmother. She acts as if she’s strolling through a city park instead of scrambling over rocks and climbing hills.

  “Can’t wait to see what’s up there,” I say.

  The look she gives me tells me she’s happy with my answer, but what strikes me is the depth to which her honest eyes penetrate my core. She doesn’t even know she’s doing it. She is a thief unaware, stealing my ability to function in this world without her. Breaking our brief connection, she bends down and hooks her fingers inside her discarded hiking boots. She stands back up and wades into the water, shoes dangling.

  I follow her since she apparently knows the way and I like the sight of her walking in front of me with her raven black hair hanging down the length of her back. She stops on the other side of the stream and sits on a small flat rock to put her shoes back on.

  “Is this side of the creek still your grandmother’s land?” I ask.

  “No. We’re on National Forest property now.”

  “Aren’t you worried about getting lost?”

  She laughs. It’s melodious and girlish and the sound makes me smile.

  After tying her laces, she leans to the side and plucks a yellow flower from the rocky soil. She twirls the stem between her fingers.

  “Is that funny?” I ask.

  “Sorry. It’s just that I don’t think I could get lost if I tried. There’s some kind of built in compass in me. I always know where I am, and where town is, and where my house is. Even if for some reason I couldn’t get back to my car, I would know what direction the main road is with my eyes closed. It must be from growing up here.”

  “I’m glad you have a good sense of direction. Between the two of us we’ll never be lost.”

  “Really? Do you have special global positioning powers or something?” she teases.

  “Sort of,” I answer in all seriousness. “I can see where we are from any angle if I want to.”

  Her teasing from the moment before suddenly dissipates as she asks, “How does that work?”

  “I can move with my intent. I have to think something like, ‘I want to see this entire mountain side’ and then I’m doing it.”

  “That’s it? Think it and it happens. Can you make things appear, ooh,” she says as a rousing thought enters her mind. “Or disappear, like magic?” She wiggles her fingers like she is performing some magic trick in the air in front of her.

  I feel my head shaking from side to side in bemused disbelief even as one side of my mouth quirks into a grin at her enthusiasm for my predicament. “Afraid not. I can move anywhere I want with thought and I can manifest a body for myself so people can see me. When I’m solid I can do things about the same way as when I was alive. It’s not very exciting being an angel.”

  “I heard the ‘about the same.’ I know how strong and fast you are. There are some perks to your job.”

  “You are the only perk I can think of.”

  “Shut up. I’m not a perk. And you said I wasn’t your last case which means I wasn’t connected to your last job. What happened? You still haven’t told me the details.”

  She climbs to her feet and begins to hike over the mix of pine litter, bunch grass, and granite. As we make our ascent along a game trail I try to come up with the best way to tell her what happened.

  “I think you must have bewitched me. I couldn’t stay away from you and it caused me to make a mistake. That, and you were in so many life-threatening situations I had to assume you were mine to watch over, but you weren’t.”

  It’s the truth. I also know there’s more to it. I screwed up worse than anyone like me should. It’s hard to acknowledge my gross error, let alone say it aloud.

  “I don’t think it turned out so bad. I’m alive. And I kind of like you, so if you hadn’t messed up then we wouldn’t have met.”

  “You kind of like me?” I ask, digging for more detail.

  “No, not at all. I only like hanging out with Angels of Death because it’s so terrifyingly stellar.”

  She stops and turns around. Standing on the uphill side of me her eyes are almost level with mine. Her green and gold eyes flecked with rust disconcert me in all the right ways. “I’m not in the same position anymore,” I say.

  “Oh? Do angels get the shaft for messing up on the job?”

  “Yes.” My voice is betraying me again. It’s difficult to speak when she stares at me like that.

  “So you really aren’t back to whisk me away to heaven, or wherever?”

  “No.”

  She nods as if she understands completely and then turns on her booted heel, hiking away from me. “I thought you said this morning you already have a new case.”

  With her backside bouncing happily away from me it’s easier for me to speak, but not by much. She didn’t press me for the fine details of my mistake, which I appreciate. The truth is I was supposed to assist her brother, Jared, with his passing into the afterlife and I accidentally — well sort of on purpose — saved him. In doing so, I was taken off his case and another angel has been assigned to him. I can’t do anything about it and I don’t want to hurt Juliana by telling her what is to come for her brother, but she deserves to know. I have to find the right time to break the news to her, but not today. Not when we finally get a chance to be alone together.

  “I do,” I say. “But I don’t help people after they die anymore. I have a slightly different role now.”

  A speculative look crosses her face before we move around an outcrop of boulders. Juliana turns to the rocks and then grips a jagged edge and starts to climb up the slanted face.

  “So, do I dare ask, or is it against the rules to speak to the living about?”

  “I can talk about anything. There are rules. Some are my own. Others are guidelines I’m supposed to follow.”

  She laughs and I have to ask again, “What’s funny?”

  “Supposed to follow? You’re admitting it’s okay to bend the rules.”

  “In my line of work, I have to stay flexible. But, I never break confidences and I can’t tolerate abuse or liars. Those are my rules.” What she doesn’t know is that I broke the most important rule; don’t interfere with a client’s fate. The future isn’t predetermined, but over the course of my afterlife, I’ve seen enough deaths to know when a person’s life is over, it’s over. The web of life is complete and to extend it for someone has far-reaching consequences, most of which are dire. What I’ve done to Jared is unforgivable, and yet I have been forgiven. The leniency was granted because I didn’t know what I was doing until it was too late. What will be the price for such interruption? What will Juliana say when I tell her that Jared’s time is running out? In the end will she blame me? I wait with shame riding on my back to find out.

  Juliana climbs back down and faces me. “Confidentiality and honesty. Sounds pretty honorable. I can understand the bending part. I always find myself going against the grain and following my own rules too.”

  “Like what?” I ask, wondering what self-governing laws this nineteen-year-old vixen lives by.

  “Well, for one, you can never leave your shoes under the bed.” She flashes me a smile as I raise an eyebrow at her. “It causes nightmares,” she explains. “And two, never walk on someone’s shadow because you’re stepping on their spirit. Which is pretty rude.”

  I nod my head at her in complete agreement although I have no idea where she is coming up with this stuff. “Anything else? I wouldn’t want to offend from ignora
nce.”

  “Oh, there’s a lot more. I have a small encyclopedia of rules and regulations about harvesting herbs. But that’s where the flexibility comes in. Sometimes you have to go with what the situation brings.”

  “Agreed,” I say.

  Her smile widens, but I can see her watching my reaction. I’ve seen Juliana’s superstitious behavior before. Like watching her cross her fingers and throwing salt over her shoulder, but now I have to wonder just how superstitious she is. Not that it matters. She’s captured me in her web and I don’t want to escape, I want to know everything about her.

  “What about this?” The need to touch her, to feel the heat of her skin or the softness of her hair overwhelms me. I pull universal energy to myself and form my body, but instead of reaching for her, I bend down and pick the fragile stem of a plant I actually recognize. Holding it out to her she rewards my effort by giving me a sweet and tender look which makes my chest ache. She’s beyond beautiful. “Do I offend you by picking this one?”

  She takes the delicate green leaves. Her fingers are warm as they brush mine. She stares down at the petals. “This one is special. You’re doing well. It’s still morning, which is a good time to harvest clover. It has so many uses.”

  “Like what? Why is it special?”

  She sits back against the granite and goes on. “My dad use to send me and Jared outside to look for four-leaf clovers when I was really little. He said if I found one, my most secret wish would come true. You know,” she says, looking away and down the mountainside, “I could never find one.” She shrugs and then lowers the tiny three-leafed stem to her side and looks straight at me.

  The color of the clover reminds me of her eyes. I could stand here all day hypnotized by their color, but after a short silence, she tucks her hair behind an ear, and distracts me.

  “My Grandma taught me everything else I know about how to use clover. It’s edible and it makes a good tea for stimulating the liver and gallbladder.”

  “And, luck of the Irish, right?”