Page 1 of Rekindled Prophecy
Prologue
London, England 1567
This would be her first test as a guardian angel. The very first time that she, and she alone, was responsible for the success of the job. No partner to bail her out if she messed up. No pressure…then why did she feel the need to vomit from the pinching pain in her stomach?
Her mentor, Jasper Moreau, had flashed a brilliant smile and pushed her hair back up under her boy’s cap before shoving her out of the carriage a couple blocks down from the tavern. He’d said, “You’ve got this, darling. You’re a natural.” Greylyn was glad someone had confidence in her because she certainly did not.
She had spent the last few months learning how to fight, how to utilize her guardian senses, how to cover her tracks, and how to blend into society from Jasper. He had been an unrelenting task master, but kind after training was completed each day. The grueling physical training had been nothing compared to his endless lectures on everything from metaphysical sciences and world religions to telepathy and mastering the art of disguise. The latter came in handy for tonight’s assignment.
Inside, her heart hammered against her ribcage. Cold sweat broke out on her palms. Peering through the soupy fog across the broken cobblestone street, Greylyn paused to stare at the entrance to the tavern. Women were not commonplace in bars, unless as barmaids or they practiced a certain profession. The tight corsets and stiff skirts did not work well in circumstances where she needed to fight. She prayed the ruffled shirt, vest, baggy britches, as well as the tight bandages that kept her bosom well-hidden and made breathing near impossible, were enough to disguise her femininity.
A tingling feeling spread all over her body from the moment she pushed open the heavy doors of the tiny, dim pub. The heat from too many bodies crammed together so closely and the stench of the smoke emitting from the corner fireplace smacked her in the face immediately. Sweat broke out across her forehead. She itched to wipe her brow, but her hands were shaking too violently. Swallowing the bile rising from her belly, she forced her feet to shuffle forward until the heavy door thudded back against the doorframe.
Five steps into the establishment and every nerve ending ignited like the fireworks Jasper had told her about from his last visit to China. This feeling was quite different from what she experienced when coming into contact with the innocent human she was charged with saving. The first time her guardian senses had picked up on Edward, the hairs on the back of her neck rose, her vision momentarily blurred, and there had been a faint tickling in her chest. But this feeling, she could not place.
Something was wrong.
She shoved her way through the throng of patrons to the bar. A sensation of being drawn to something, like a magnet in her belly, fought against her body’s command to move forward. It demanded she stop and turn. Jasper had never warned her about something like this. Was it just nerves? Greylyn dug her fingernails into her palms.
Stay focused.
The invisible pull messed with her connection to the innocent man she was there to help. The ruddy-faced gambler was on the other side of the tavern. His eyes flitted around the room. His time was short, and he knew it. The man, Edward, had failed to pay his debt to a notorious card shark. He did not owe money; he owed his soul. No matter where he ran, the demonic enforcers would track him down. She had been sent here tonight specifically to save the man from having a harpy gorge on his soul like a meal of fish and chips.
He was her mission. But still her feet refused to cooperate.
What is wrong with me?
As her eyes darted around the room, looking for the source of her discomfort, her vision blurred, and her pulse quickened. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until …
A dazzling pair of eyes, flecks of gold practically glowing in a sea of burnt umber, stared at her from a corner table. The gentleman’s eyes widened momentarily, and a slight tremor rippled through his expression. Dark hair with auburn highlights cascaded down past his shoulders. Rooted into place, time stopped and the world around her went hazy until his face transformed into a mischievous grin that sent tantalizing tingles throughout her body. Heat crept up her cheeks, but for what reason she could not comprehend.
A loud crash from across the tavern broke Greylyn from her paralysis. She spun around to see Edward bolting out the back door, followed by a group of burly looking men carrying a large potato sack and thick wooden clubs.
“Dammit.” This was exactly what she was meant to stop. Before she could give chase, a tall, muscular form blocked her path. Citrus and sandalwood invaded her senses, which wasstrange, given the odor of sweat, stale whiskey, and ale that permeated the crowded tavern.
“Excuse …” She looked up. Big mistake. Hypnotic eyes stared down at her, and a delicious smile curled the corners of a sensual mouth. Her own lips failed to form words.
“May I help you, young lad?” His voice washed over her, deep and somewhat familiar, followed by a throaty chuckle. Her mind screamed to get away from this man … fast, but her eyes were locked on his, unable to break free.
An abrupt high-pitched cackling of a barmaid burst through her deaf ears, shattering his invisible hold. Forcing her feet to move, Greylyn spun around and sprinted out the back entrance of the tavern, desperate to find Edward before the demons captured him. Or worse.
Behind the bar, the backstreet was dark and stank of garbage piled in more than a dozen mountains against the weathered stone exterior. Her eyes adjusted almost instantly, but Edward was nowhere in sight. He must have gotten away or done a damn good job of hiding, because the demon thugs canvassing the alley cursed and hurled threats to no one in particular. One especially rotund demon-possessed man swung a large wooden slab at piles of refuse lined up against the building while the others slowly stalked along the alleyway. “Here, here, little kitty,” one taunted. “You can’t hide forever, stupid bloke.”
Okay, now what, Greylyn?
Lost the innocent. Now she was stuck in a face-off with a band of demonic ruffians.
Jasper’s voice rang in her head.Brilliant job!
She doubted Jasper would praise her efforts so far to save the human. Instead, she was in quite a conundrum.
No, her first lone assignment was not going smoothly. Not at all.
Greylyn took a deep breath before moving out of the shadows to stand in the middle of the alley. Yanking the cap off her head that had kept her long ebony locks hidden away, she whistled to get their attention. “Yo, laddies! Looking’ for a good time?”
They turned in unison, each bearing the same slimy grin. The one in the middle carrying a meat cleaver of all things, stalked towards her. “What we got here? A wee pretty thing, tain’t she?” He cranked his head left and then right, bones popping loudly. “Why ya covering up all ye assets dressing like a lad?” With that, he lunged for her arm.
Greylyn side-stepped, pivoted, and slammed him in the back of the head with her elbow. “What d’hell …” were the last words he uttered as she slid in front of him with her dagger drawn, leaving a bright trail of blood along his now near-decapitated neck.