♥ Excerpt ♥
2013 © Tiffany Daune
Theia’s head fell back as soon as she lifted it, her brain pounding with the demons’ shrill cries. She closed her eyes tight, trying to remember what had happened, but all she could see was the perfect, smiling face of the angel, his watery eyes staring back at her.
I must be dead, Theia thought.
But dead people didn’t feel pain. She tried to sit up, but her limbs felt heavy with every movement. She stretched her arm out to her side, and her elbow brushed against something soft. She peeked to her left. Sitting next to her was the angel with an amused, crooked smile on his face.
“Hi,” he said, his eyes soft with concern.
Theia gasped. He was beautiful. Loose waves of golden hair fell around his face in an ethereal halo, and his blue eyes sparkled like sapphires.
Are all angels this hot? She wondered.
He reached for her hand, but she snapped it back.
“Fair enough,” he said, with a cool grin. “I wouldn’t go around holding strangers’ hands either.”
He held out his hand for her to shake, but she tucked hers against her chest.
“I’m Luc,” he said.
Theia flushed. His voice was soft, even soothing, yet somehow beguiling at the same time.
“I really just wanted to check your pulse.” Luc held out his hand again in truce. “You’ve been out for hours—”
“That long?” Theia coughed. Her voice was cracked and hoarse.
“You lost a lot of blood and passed out.” He shook his head. “Those witches should have never touched you.”
His eyes searched Theia’s looking for an answer, but he did not seem to find the answer he was looking for.
“Their reaction was so strange,” he continued. “I don’t know what they were thinking.”
Theia’s pulse quickened as memories flooded back. She remembered the disappearing boat, treading water in the rain, but, most of all, she remembered the freaky demon girls, their vicious cries, and the little girl with a tail who tried to eat her alive.
Hallucinations brought on by hypothermia, Theia thought. But Luc had seen them too.
“What were they?” Theia asked.
Luc laughed. “You must still be out of it. Maybe you should lie back down.”
The room swirled as he lowered her back onto the pillow. Theia tried to focus on his blue eyes, but they seemed to spin like Van Gogh’s twisted stars.
“Your hair is so dark.” He swept his hand across her cheek and past her temple.
Theia held her breath. His touch warmed her down to the tips of her toes. She didn’t dare exhale.