Dirty Angel-BarbaraElsborg (3 page)

When the Wilsons were ready, he administered the drug. The dog’s heart and brain would shut down within a couple of minutes. He stood back as the couple poured their love into their dying pet, filling his last moments with kind words and gentle caresses. The dog stared up at them and Brody thought if animals could speak, Sam was saying goodbye and thanking them for loving him just as his owners were thanking him for being in their lives. Humans could learn a lot from pets: compassion, understanding, patience, love without boundaries and conditions.

The spaniel’s eyes closed and after the Wilsons moved back, Brody stepped forward and checked for a heartbeat. “He’s gone.”

“Oh Sam,” gasped Anne Wilson.

“We’ll take him home,” her husband said. “Bury him under his favourite tree.”

“With his toys.” His wife wiped her eyes. “You think dogs go to heaven?”

“If there is any justice in this world.” Brody didn’t hesitate with that answer. How could he say any different?

“Thank you,” she said and hugged Brody.

Oh God.
Thanking him for killing their dog. And on the way out, they’d stop at the desk and pay for having it done. They had no kids. This dog meant the world to them.

His next patient was a hedgehog with a broken leg brought in by an eleven year old and his parents. Their dog had dragged it from under the shed where it had been hibernating. After he’d splinted the leg, and explained the care the hedgehog would need, he’d seen the appalled expression on the mother’s face and said he’d ask a shelter to take it. He checked out three cats and two more dogs and a goldfish before he managed to take a break and grab a mug of coffee.

There was a hip replacement scheduled shortly for a Welsh collie and Brody was to assist Henrik Christiansen, the practice owner. Brody had struggled not to show his desperation when he’d come here for an interview, but he
had
to leave Leeds. He was doing fine at the Moortown practice, and they hadn’t wanted to lose him, but his personal life was a disaster.

His last encounter with Matt had frightened Brody. In a way, it had done Brody a favour because this time, he was determined to never take up with Matt again. The morning after, Brody searched online for another job and when he’d seen there was a vacancy at a practice in the county where he was born and brought up, close to where his brother ran the family business, he’d decided it was time to come home. The one place Matt wouldn’t expect him to go. Just in case, he made it clear to his former colleagues that no one should reveal where he was moving to.

But much as this job move had been about running away, Brody had landed on his feet. He loved the practice, got on well with the staff, the nurses and other vets, and he thought Henrik was a genius. Brody saw a future in advanced veterinary medicine opening up ahead of him and felt excited for the first time in a long while. Henrik was a brilliant teacher and Brody knew he was lucky to be working for him. All he needed to do now
was banish Matt from his head, get his personal life in gear and he’d be happy. It was an elusive concept.

Rita, one of the nurses, helped Henrik into his scrubs as Brody began to wash his hands and forearms.

“Good day?” Henrik asked.

“No. After I lost the Border collie hit by the tractor, I had to put down the Wilsons’ dog.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“At least you didn’t have crying kids. I had to euthanize a hamster. I had three little girls look at me as if I was the worst person in the world because I wasn’t crying too. And the damn thing bit me. Next one that comes in for any reason whatsoever, you’re doing it. Did you hear that, Rita? Give it to Brody.”

“They know better than to bite him,” the nurse said.

Henrik laughed and Brody swallowed in discomfort. Cindy, another nurse, helped Brody into his operating gear. He hoped no one had noticed his reaction to Rita’s comment. He felt as if the bite mark on his chest was visible.

“Right. Off we go,” Henrik said and Brody followed him into the next room. “By the way, the TV crew are coming in again to film series two.”

Brody groaned. “They haven’t even seen figures for series one.” The first episode was due to be shown in a couple of days. “Too late to apply for leave?”

Henrik chuckled, but Brody was serious. Had he known the practice was going to be part of a TV show, he wouldn’t have joined. It was too dangerous. His face on the TV? How could Matt not see him, not find him? Brody wasn’t that lucky.

Aden woke not remembering having fallen asleep, though he did
remember the two—whatever they were—arguing about him. And the mention of wings
. Fucking hell.
He kept his eyes closed because he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with whatever reality faced him. His back ached. His coat seemed to weigh a ton. There was what felt like a pillow under his cheek, and a mattress under his body. He didn’t have the feeling he’d been fucked—not that he was in the habit of letting himself be fucked—but something wasn’t right.

He needed to open his eyes, but hesitated, trying to convince himself the world was the way it should be, even though this didn’t feel like his bed and there was that throb in his back. Still… Everything that had gone before had to have been a dream. Maybe the concert venue had collapsed and he was trapped under a pile of rubble.
Yes!
Finally an explanation that made sense.

Except what he lay on was too comfortable to be rubble. He opened his eyes to find himself sprawled on an unfamiliar bed in a small room with walls of mist. It had a name.
Ether…
He tried to push to his feet and he let out a cry of discomfort.
My back.
What the hell was wrong with it? He made another effort to get up and this time succeeded, but stood bowed as though there was something heavy pressing on his upper spine. He reached over his shoulder but could feel nothing through his coat.

“It will be easier without clothes, this first time.”

Aden spun round at the sound of the voice and saw Raphael standing a few feet away.

“You’re unusual.” Raphael stared at him.

Dante stood beside Raphael, arms crossed, a smirk on his face. They wanted him without clothes? Aden could do that. This time his cock
did
perk up.
Thank fuck for that.
He shrugged off his coat, though not without difficulty, and unbuttoned his shirt, but as he reached for the snap on his jeans he wondered what he was doing and dragged his hand back.
What’s wrong with me?

“All are unconscious at this point.” Raphael had a worried look on his face.

Dante made a purring sound. “He has the wrong end of the stick. But what do you say, brother? For old time’s sake? Shall we fuck him together?”

Raphael shook his head. “Stop teasing him.”

Aden wanted to ask what was happening, but the ache in his back had grown to pain severe enough to steal the thoughts from his head. His chest heaved, his ribs felt as if they were being crushed and he struggled to breathe.

“Look at him.” Dante’s eyes glistened. “Beautifully bad. He’s mine.”

Aden cried out, frozen for a moment by a series of lightning strikes, agonizing spasms shooting the length of his spine, into his arse and radiating down his legs. He lurched away from the two men watching him. Now his back felt as though it was being ripped apart, clawed hands yanking at his ribs, turning him inside out.
Fucking imagination.
Aden made himself check there was no monster behind him. That there wasn’t, was little consolation. He could hardly bear the pain and bit his lip to stop himself screaming.

“No way is he yours,” Dante insisted.

Raphael had a small smile on his face. “We shall see.”

Aden dropped to his knees, felled by whatever was happening to his back. He curled into a ball and closed his eyes as wrenching and tearing sensations continued to wrack his upper body. He tasted blood in his mouth. Behind his closed lids, he was aware the world had darkened. His lungs locked as a huge wave of agony rolled over him, forcing him down, concertinaing his ribs, suffocating him to the point he thought he’d pass out. There was a strange rush of warm wind as the pain faded, and his lungs filled as he gasped.

“What the fuck?” Dante shouted. “What the fucking fuckity fuck? He’s mine.”

“Not exactly, it appears,” said Raphael.

Aden opened his eyes and saw—
oh Christ.
He tried to push to his feet and almost fell on his face. When he finally managed to lever himself upright, Dante and Raphael were staring at him. Well, not at him, at either side of his body. Aden took a look for himself.
No, no, no, no, no.
They couldn’t be real. He reached down, touched the feathers and shudders rippled through his body.

A white wing hung on his right side, a jet black wing on his left. Had these wankers forced them into his body? That was why his back hurt? Why would they do something like that? But this pair looked too shocked to be responsible.

“I’ve never seen this before,” Raphael said. “I’ve heard of it happening.”

Aden flexed his muscles, rolled his aching shoulders and the wings swept out, stretching about five feet either side.
Oh Christ, I did that.
Suddenly everything was distressingly clear.

This was not
a dream.

He was dead.

The wings hadn’t been forced into him.

He’d grown them.

“The black wing means he doesn’t belong to you.” Dante moved closer to Aden and stroked the dark feathers on the underside. Aden’s cock went rock hard so fast the breath caught in his throat and came out as a strangled moan. Dante hadn’t been touching his dick, but it felt as if he had.

“The white wing means he’s not yours,” Raphael said.

Dante leaned into Aden, licked his cheek and trailed his fingers up Aden’s chest. “You are so delicious. I think I might keep you for myself. Just for a while. Maybe longer than a while if you’re really bad. I do like a wicked boy with a dirty mouth.”

“He’s not yours,” Raphael repeated.

“I’m not anybody’s.” Aden tried to snap out the words, but they sounded weak.

“Oh, he speaks.” Dante laughed.

“What’s happening?” Aden asked. “Where am I? Why I am here?”

Dante danced his fingers over Aden’s tense abs.

Aden pushed his hand away. “Leave me alone.”

“That’s not what your cock’s saying.” Dante smirked at the tent in Aden’s jeans.

“I don’t always listen to my cock.” Actually, he probably did.

Dante snorted.

“You couldn’t be judged,” Raphael said. “There is both good and bad in you.”

“As with all humans.” Dante shrugged. “No one is perfectly bad or perfectly good. Not even you, Raph.”

“That’s true, but in Aden’s case he shows extremes of good and bad.” Raphael cocked his head on one side. “Your life notes made our decision difficult which was why we waited for your wings to emerge. I’ve never seen anyone awake when that happens. Nor have I seen anyone with a wings of different colours. You can’t enter heaven like that. Nor hell.”

“He
can
enter hell. I’ve no problem with taking him there,” Dante said. “I fancy the idea of having an exotic pet. No one will have ever seen anything like him. When I’m bored, they’ll line up to fuck him.”

A muscle ticked in Aden’s cheek.

“Maybe you won’t bore me, sunshine.” Dante stared straight at him.

Aden averted his gaze, thinking about what Raphael had said.
An extreme of good?
What had he done that was good? He had no problem thinking of the extreme bad.

As memories of the worst day of his life flooded back, he choked up and his cock shrank. He’d been taken out of the house, every bit of him covered in blood, and not spoken a word for months. Eventually he’d come up with ways to stop himself thinking about what he’d done because he knew if he didn’t, the memories would drive him insane. Yet here he was, insane anyway.

Yeah, that was another possibility. He’d finally lost his mind and was locked in a padded cell he thought was built of a strange mist. Except he’d sort of hoped if he did lose his grip on reality, he’d also lose the memory of what he’d done that day. It was still crystal clear.

“No, you’re not,” Raphael said.

“Not what?” Aden glanced at him.
Christ, he is so…beautiful.

Dante pouted. “You think he’s more beautiful than me?”

Aden stiffened.

“You’re not insane,” Raphael said. “Not in a padded cell. You’ll never forget what you did because it’s part of you. It helped make you what you are.”

Aden hadn’t spoken out loud. These guys had read his mind.

“I’m an angel,” Raphael said. “Dantanian is a fallen angel. A demon.”

“Duh. I think he might have figured that out,” Dante said.

Yeah…but no. Where were their wings?

“Not for you to see, sunshine. Not yet.” Dante grinned.

Raphael gave a heavy sigh. A worryingly heavy sigh. “He has to go back.”

“That’s crap.” Dante scowled. “You just don’t want me to take him.”

“I never want you to take any soul, but this one deserves a second chance.”

“It’s not up to you to decide that,” Dante said.

“We decide together.” Raphael smiled at Dante and the Adam’s apple in Dante’s throat surged up and down.

Raphael’s smile was as if the sun had come out. Aden’s cock perked up. He could almost taste the testosterone. His mind filled with an image of being sandwiched between these two and his cock filled.

“That sounds so much fun.” Dante purred. “You’ll like my cock. It’s big.”

“How did I die?” Aden’s voice cracked as he spoke. He couldn’t get his head around this.

“You don’t remember?” Raphael raised his eyebrows.

“I was at a concert. I don’t remember anything else.”

“Strange,” Raphael muttered.

“You
do
remember who you killed though,” Dante said. “Even though it was all those years ago.”

An invisible fist squeezed Aden’s throat.

“Remember how you pressed your face to her chest? The way her heart stopped beating against your cheek? How you watched the light fade from her eyes? Oh yeah, oops—her eye. Were you sorry?” Dante moved close again. Close enough.