regretting her earlier rant. “I have very little to go on. I know very little of the human world, but I know love when I see it. You two have it, and I want that for my daughter, even if it won’t be me giving it to her. Please,” she fell on her knees in front of the couple, begging. “Please, just keep her safe until she’s 18. December 5, please just keep her safe until then, and I will return for her. Wherever you are, I’ll be able to locate her and I’ll be back.” Kelandra now had tears running down her face, and her
shoulders shook from the weight of her grief.
“Oh, ma’am…” Kay started, but was interrupted once again.
“She’ll die. Thomas and Kay Berry, she will die if you don’t take her. You’re my last resort. There’s no one around for miles except you. Take my daughter, go far from here, and keep her safe.”
Hesitantly, Kay reached into the basket and carefully picked up the child, who remained asleep. She only moved slightly: to instinctively curl into Kay’s bosom, as if she were the baby’s mother. Kelandra laughed through her tears, but Kay looked up from the child.
“What’s her name?” she asked, still unsure, still doubtful. The mother looked up, her blue eyes clear and bright, and she smiled when she answered.
“Angel. Her name is Angel.”
Chapter One
Angel hated snow.
That was a fact. She never understood how people could think it was “magical” or “dreaminspired” or whatever poetic garbage they can think up to romanticize it. To Angel, snow was cold, wet and miserable, and she wanted no part in that.
“Angel, I’m leaving in 5 minutes!” her mother called up to her. Angel simply rolled her eyes and made no response. She continued to layer her clothes and she put on her warmest boots, determined to remain snug and warm today. Glancing in the mirror, she lingered to examine her straight blond hair, which she had been wanting to cut for years; she simply couldn’t bring
herself to ask for more than a trim, though. It flowed all the way down to her lower back, but today she simply combed it back and put it into a high ponytail on her head. Her blue eyes and classically beautiful features completed her look, and she stared critically at herself a moment
longer before she grabbed a scarf and left her room.
“There you are, baby. How are you feeling this morning?” Angel shrugged, but her mother didn’t seem to notice. Her brunette hair was cut into what was supposed to be a fashionable pixie cut, but only screamed “bed hair” at this particular moment. She was frazzled, but she managed to keep it together every morning and get her daughter to school and her husband to work on time.
“I probably won’t be home until after 10 tonight, Mom. Just thought I’d let you know.” Angel meant for it to be a casual mention, but her mother stopped and looked at her, concern flashing across her features.
“I don’t know if I feel so comfortable with that,” she said, her gaze unwavering and intent. Angel shrugged.
“You’ve never had an issue with it before-“ she started but was promptly stopped.
“Your father has mentioned some disturbing occurrences that have happened lately around town, and I would just feel better if you were home early.” Kay went back to what she was doing, but there was a definite change in her demeanor. Angel, however, didn’t pick up on it.
“I’ll be safe, as I always am, and I’ll text you with constant updates, okay?” Her mother didn’t press, but also didn’t reply. Still, Angel took this as consent, and it wasn’t brought up again.
“Morning, ladies!” came a booming voice from behind, and Angel turned to see her father coming down the stairs, dressed for work. He sported a dressy polo and khakis, and his black hair was slicked back and classy-looking.
Angel’s father, Thomas
B. A. Bradbury
Melody Carlson
Shelley Shepard Gray
Ben Winston
Harry Turtledove
P. T. Deutermann
Juliet Barker
David Aaronovitch
L.D. Beyer
Jonathan Sturak