Guarding Angel (Fallen Redemption #1) - First five chapters

Chapter 4

Her royal purple wings proclaimed her a Muse, another of the specialties within the Heavenly rank above ours. She was beautiful, with high cheekbones and full lips. My eyes narrowed before I could stop myself.

“Yasva?” Kaspen flapped to his feet, and I rose with him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. Yasva’s amethyst eyes shifted to me and traveled from my bare feet to the tips of my wings. Her diamond nose ring glinted in the soft glow of the Garden.

“Our Wards know one another, and we were just discussing their lives.” Kaspen’s shoulders held a tenseness that contrasted his previous confidence. “She guards Daniel.” He provided no further explanation, which meant they’d talked of our humans before.

Who is this angel?

Yasva snorted and tossed her raven hair over her shoulders. Her movements were stiff and deliberate, strange in comparison to how the flamboyant Muses usually carry themselves. “Fine, whatever. Guardians are of no consequence.”

No consequence? I might not enjoy being a Guardian, but our duty is important. Perhaps more important than any other Heavenly duty. “Guarding is essential to humankind,” I said. “Not every human gets a Muse.”

Kaspen’s face was devoid of the cool assurance from moments before. He put a hand on Yasva’s shoulder, and my insides twisted. “Yasva, perhaps you and I should talk somewhere.”

Yasva shook his hand off and stepped toward me. “If it’s so essential, why would the Council of Seraphim use guarding as a way to punish a misbehaving Muse?” Her ruby lips pursed as she glared, but the expression failed to mar her beauty.

“What?” Demotions are rare and enforced by an Archangel, the rank directly below Seraph. Acts of the Council are usually decrees on the direction of human history.

Kaspen said, “I didn’t realize your meeting with the Council was today.”

Yasva snorted. “They dithered for decades, undecided, but today was the day.” She tossed her head again. She brought a hand to her temple and her amethyst eyes fluttered shut. She opened them to glare at me. “Should I tell your Guardian friend my tale of tragedy and tribulation?”

“No, she should get back to Daniel.” Kaspen’s resigned tone had replaced the strong, confident timbre of his voice. As his eyes darted to a tuft of grass beside Yasva, he seemed another angel.

I wasn’t interested in being in the middle of… whatever was going on between the two. “Good idea.” The words snapped out, and I prepared to fade to Earth.

Before I could leave, Yasva glided toward me, beating her wings once to propel herself. “I did my duty as a Muse. I inspired great works of art.” Her hand swept in front of her, and she looked to the sky. “But the Seraphim were sullen. So now I’m to chase after a human like…” she paused, glancing at me as though to ensure I was paying attention, “… a lost little lamb.” She shuddered, appearing to prevent herself from collapsing.

I couldn’t help myself. “Is she always so dramatic?” I asked Kaspen.

“Of course I’m dramatic, you uncomely wench. I’m a Muse!”

Uncomely wench? My hand ran through my rumpled hair as I searched for a suitably caustic response. This was a waste of time, but now I couldn’t leave after being insulted. Three times.

Kaspen said, “Yasva, it’s not her fault. Besides, you only have to guard for one lifetime. Then you can return to inspiring, right?”

Yasva thrust a manicured finger in Kaspen’s face. “No, I’m supposed to learn ‘empathy’ for the humans, so I understand what ‘appropriate’ inspiration is.” She huffed. “How am I supposed to think with this constant cacophony?”