Perhaps. She was clearly rebelling, and then the man attacked her.

Does she have fangs? Laszlo asked as he snapped on some synthetic gloves.

Connor felt a momentary cringe of embarrassment. Such a simple thing, but hed forgotten to check her teeth. Although hed certainly looked over the rest of her. Thoroughly. But only to determine her injuries. A man would have to be dead not to notice a beautifully shaped female with a lovely face and dewy soft, lustrous skin. And he wasnt dead. At least, some of the time.

He leaned over her and whispered, Doona fash. I willna harm you. He pressed a fingertip against the womans upper lip and gently prodded it up. Dainty white teeth. No fangs.

She must be human.

But what about Zack? Hed referred to people as humans, and hed said something about the master ordering their deaths. He definitely sounded like a Malcontent. Had he attempted to use vampire mind control on this woman to force her to kill? But what vampire could cause the flashes of light and the blast of air that had thrown Connor forty feet through the air? What had burned the trees and scorched the earth? How had Marielle survived such an attack?

He straightened slowly. Roman was watching him curiously while Laszlo readied a tray of surgical instruments.

Well? Roman tugged on his gloves. Is she a vampire?

Nay. Connor took a deep breath. I doona know what to make of her.

How dramatic. Laszlo gave him an amused look as he set a stack of towels on a table close to the gurney. Shes definitely female. She doesnt have the scent of a shifter, so I think we can safely assume shes human.

Ye doona think her blood smells a wee bit odd? Connor asked.  Tis verra rich.

Laszlo tilted his head, sniffing. True. I cant quite detect her blood type, and I usually can.

Enough talk. Roman marched up to the gurney. Lets take a look at her before she bleeds to death. He whisked the bloody tartan away and tossed it on the floor.

Nay! Connor quickly pushed her onto her stomach and shot Roman an annoyed look. Ive already checked her for injuries. With vampire speed, he nabbed a towel off the nearby table, flipped it open, and covered the womans rump.

Tis only her back that needs tending.

She moaned a few mumbled words.

Twill be all right, lass, he answered as he carefully tucked the towel around her hips. Did the sound of her voice affect the other men like it did him? Perhaps not, since Laszlo possessed the same politely helpful expression he usually had.

Did she just say, Dont touch me? Laszlo asked.

Aye. She said that when I first found her. She may be afraid her nudity will incite men to abuse her. Connor noticed that her hair had fallen over her face when hed shoved her onto her stomach. He brushed her hair back to make sure she could breathe.

Doona fash, lass, we willna harm you.

Dont . . . Her eyelids flickered, then closed.

Och, shes out again. Connor straightened and discovered Roman regarding him again with a curious look. His cheeks grew warm. So he was displaying some normal human kindness. Was that so strange? He lifted his chin. So do ye plan on helping this woman or letting her bleed to death?

Romans eyes glinted with amusement. Lets get her cleaned up, Laszlo.

The short chemist passed Roman a bottle of antiseptic cleanser and some gauze pads. When Roman doused her burns with antiseptic,the woman moaned.

Yere hurting her, Connor protested.

We have to protect her from infection. Laszlo smoothed some ointment over the burns. This will help with the pain and promote healing.

She may end up with some scars, Roman commented as he began to clean the wounds across her shoulder blades.

She flinched, then moaned again.

Connor grimaced as he saw the two cuts now clearly defined on her back. Each one looked about six inches long. Fortunately, they had stopped bleeding.

Roman finished cleaning her wounds, then tossed the bloody strips of gauze into a metal pan. His eyes narrowed as he examined the cuts. This is . . . odd. At first, I assumed the slashes were caused by a sharp instrument like a knife or sword, but if you look closer, youll see the skin is burned.

Perhaps she was cut by a laser? Laszlo leaned over for a closer look. It is odd. He glanced up at Connor. Are you sure this was an attack of violence?

Of course it was violent. She was bloody well wounded.

Laszlo frowned as he fiddled with a button on his lab coat. The two wounds are perfectly symmetrical. I would wager the lengths are exactly the same down to the millimeter. This sort of precision would not occur in a normal fight.

Laszlo makes a good point. Roman selected two forceps off the surgical tray and gently examined one of the wounds.

What are ye doing? Connor asked. Ye should be closing the wounds, no opening them.

Roman drew in a sharp breath. Laszlo, look at this.

Laszlo nudged Connor aside so he could get closer. What is that? Some sort of bone or cartilage?

Yes, Roman whispered. And its been severed.

Laszlo straightened with a jerk and grabbed a button on his lab coat. Ive never seen anything like that on a human. He turned to Connor, his eyes wide. What have you brought here?

Connor swallowed hard. She wasnt human? He touched a lock of her hair. She felt so human.

Is there anything else you know about her? Roman asked. Did you hear anything

They were arguing. Connor closed his eyes briefly, struggling to remember everything that had happened before hed been blasted into a tree and had the sense knocked out of his head. The man, Zack, was yelling at her. She had disobeyed three times. She was being banished. He opened his eyes and gazed down on her beautiful face. He called her Marielle.

Romans eyes widened, then his gaze dropped to her wounds. Gods blood, he whispered. Surely it cant be.

What? Connor asked.

Roman stepped back, his face pale. Gabriel, Michael, Rafael.

Laszlo shook his head, nervously twirling the button on his lab coat. No. Just because her name happens to rhyme, that doesnt mean

The clinic doors swung open, and Shanna ran to the sink to wash her hands. Why didnt you call me? I just heard about the injured woman. Emma thought the Malcontents might have tortured her.

Connor shot a worried look at Roman. The medieval monk appeared awestruck. Laszlo was clutching a button so hard his knuckles were white. If they were thinking what Connor suspected they were thinking, they had to be wrong.

Shanna dried her hands and grabbed a pair of synthetic gloves.

Why so quiet? She gasped. She hasnt died, has she?

Nay, Connor said. Shes unconscious.

Shanna snapped on the gloves as she approached. She grimaced at the sight of the wounds. How terrible. Did you give her a local anesthetic?

Roman shook his head. No.

I think you should before you stitch up the wounds, Shanna said.

Im not sure what to do, Roman murmured. I think wed better call Father Andrew.

Why? Shannas eyes widened. You mean for Last Rites? Surely we can save her. She placed her hand on Marielles head in a protective gesture. Her eyes rolled up, and she crumpled.

Shanna! Roman grabbed her as she fell.

Oh my! Laszlo rushed toward them.

Shanna? Roman patted her face. Her limp body sagged in his arms, and he settled her on the floor. Shanna?

Connor watched, his innards growing cold with horror. He didnt want to believe his eyes. Or his ears, for no matter how hard he strained, he could barely hear a heartbeat. Laszlo had to be thinking the same thing, because he fell to his knees and grabbed Shannas wrist to feel for a pulse.

Shanna! Roman screamed and shook her.

Sir, Laszlo told him quietly. Shes fading fast.

No! Shes going to be fine. She Oh, God. He seized his wifes face. Shanna, wake up!

Roman! Laszlo shouted, his eyes glittering with emotion. Shes dying.

Roman glared at him. No. She just fainted, thats all.

Shes going to die, Laszlo yelled. You have to change her now!

Its too soon! The children are too young. Sofias only two!

You have no choice, Laszlo gritted out.

Roman shuddered, then gazed down at his wife. Oh God! I cant lose her. He looked wildly about the room, and his gleaming eyes landed on Connor. What have you done?

Connor stepped back from the accusing eyes. I dinna mean . . . please, change her before it is too late.

Youre supposed to protect my family, Roman hissed. You brought an angel of death here!

Connors blood ran cold. Holy Christ Almighty, had he truly brought death to the family he had sworn to protect?

Roman pointed at the woman on the gurney. Get her out of here before she kills my children, too! With a hoarse cry, Roman tilted back his head and shot his fangs out. He sank them into Shannas neck.

Connor didnt know which was worse: the sound of Roman frantically sucking all the blood from his wife, or the wrenching sound of his sobs while he did it.

My fault. Connor doubled over, nausea churning his gut. My fault. Shanna had trusted him to protect her, and hed brought death to her. Just as he had his own wife and newborn child.

He fell to his knees. Failure again.

Connor, Laszlo whispered.

He glanced up to see Laszlo standing by the gurney.

You need to take her away.

He glanced at her, then at Shanna, dying in her husbands arms on the floor, then back at Marielle. Could Roman be right? Was she truly an angel of death?

Connor rose to his feet and lurched toward her, grabbing the edge of the gurney in his fists. Why dinna ye kill me? he growled. God knew he deserved it.

Perhaps she couldnt, Laszlo said quietly. Were already . . . dead.

Connor snorted. One little request, and God couldnt grant it for him. Yed think Hed want me in hell.

Laszlo frowned at him. Take her away from here. Quickly.

He tugged the sheet loose from the gurney and wrapped it around Marielle. How could she look so sweet and innocent when she was so deadly? He gathered her in his arms.

She moaned as his arm came in contact with her wounded back. Dont touch me, she whispered.

Aye. I should have listened to you, lass. With one last glance at Shanna, he teleported away, taking the angel of death with him.

Chapter Four

Pain. It flooded her senses, drowned her body, and made it nigh impossible to think of anything other than the torture she endured. With every breath she drew, the pain swelled and sucked her deeper into a black hole.

Marielle had never realized before how sensitive the human body was. No wonder some people begged her to take their souls early.

Shed always felt guilty when ordered to grant such a request, fearing the act made her a murderer, but now, for the first time, she realized Zack had been right all along. The Deliverers werent angels of death, but of mercy.

Was that why Zackriel had punished her? Was she being forced to endure pain in human form so she would appreciate Gods mercy and stop questioning orders?

With her eyes still shut, she began to pray. Heavenly Father, please forgive me. I was wrong to ever doubt Your infinite wisdom. I have learned my lesson. Please return me to Your favor so I may continue to serve You.

No answer.

Her eyes flew open. Why couldnt she hear an answer? The Heavenly Father always answered His angels. And she was still an angel. Wasnt she?

Panic seized her. She struggled to sit up, even though it caused her more pain. A white sheet was wound tightly around her like a shroud, frightening her even more. Im not dead yet! She tugged the sheet down to her waist and fought against the pain, just enough to clear a bit of her mind.

Glory to God in the Highest, she called out mentally.

Silence.

Her breath caught. Where was the Heavenly Host? They should have responded with the usual refrainAnd on earth, peace, goodwill toward men.

Hundreds of thousands of angelsGuardians, Messengers, God Warriors, Healers, and Deliverersall part of the Heavenly Host and always there, connected in spirit. Theyd been with her since the dawn of her existence. At any given moment, there was a chorus of angels who were singing, and others joined in between assignments. It was a constant, never-ending liturgy of praise that filled them with joy and peace.

She frantically opened her mind. They had to be there. If she could just get past the pain, she would hear their beautiful voices. Glory to God in the Highest!

Silence.

A sob of disbelief escaped her mouth.

Banished. No singing. No words of comfort. No communication at all with her fellow angels. No response from the Heavenly Father. She was absolutely alone. Abandoned and racked with pain.

She had to get back. Somehow.

She willed her wings to spring forth, but two lightning bolts of pain stabbed her in the back. She cried out, but the torture robbed her voice and only a gasping croak escaped. She twisted to look over her shoulder. Dear God, no! She hadnt dreamed it. Zack had taken her wings. No wonder she was in so much pain.

No wings. She covered her mouth to stifle a sob. How would she ever get back to heaven? She was earthbound.

With a sharp twinge of fear, she realized she had no idea where she was. Shed been so distracted by pain and so focused on the spiritual realm, shed not given her surroundings any thought.

The forest was gone. She was in a dark shelter of some kind. Sitting on a cushioned chair. No, larger than a chair. It was what humans referred to as a couch. How had she arrived here?

She recalled a shadowy dream that had entwined itself like a velvet ribbon around the onslaught of pain. Thered been a voice, a deep male voice with a lilting accent shed found soothing. Strong arms that had held her tenderly. Shed thought it naught but wishful imaginings. No human could touch her without dying.

But someone, or something, had brought her to this dark place.

Most likely not one of the Heavenly Host, not when shed been banished from them. Theyre not the only angels. Her skin prickled with a terrible thought. What if she was considered a fallen angel now? What if one of Lucifers servants had collected her?

Terror struck her so hard, she forgot the pain. She looked frantically about the dark room. Looming shadows of unknown objects surrounded her. A sudden creaking noise made her jump and strain her ears. There was someone nearby. Just outside the room. Footfalls moving back and forth, occasionally striking a board that creaked. Heavy footfalls, most likely a male.