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  WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS

  Winter Solstice 2012

  Savanna Kougar

  PARANORMAL ROMANCE

  www.BookStrand.com

  A SIREN-BOOKSTRAND TITLE

  IMPRINT: Romance

  ABOUT THE E-BOOK VERSION: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to one LEGAL copy for your own personal use. It is ILLEGAL to send your copy to someone who did not pay for it. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book.

  WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS

  Winter Solstice 2012

  Copyright © 2008 by Savanna Kougar

  E-book ISBN: 1-60601-061-1

  First E-book Publication: August 2008

  Cover design by Jinger Heaston

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2008 by Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  To all the angels disguised as mere humans, who brave Earth and help us all.

  WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS

  Winter Solstice 2012

  Savanna Kougar

  Copyright © 2008

  Chapter 1

  The Endtimes aren’t Jolly

  “You know what they say about incarnated angels, don’t you?”

  “They fly too close to the ground?” Zerr Dann half-grinned at his universe roaming buddy, a red Alsaishun. He tossed down a swallow of his barley ale.

  “Incarnated angels, when on Earth just whispers away from a bad fall—isn’t that the cloud wisdom?” Jorque saluted with his full mug of liver ale, quaffed.

  “On Earth good angels fall too hard. Rescued a few on our family vacations.” Zerr Dann revealed the sacred acts of his parents—what he had not done before, in accordance with The Timing.

  “Angel crash and burn out. So that’s your Earth connection. Beyond your mother’s mortal inheritance,” Jorque barked understanding, then drank.

  “Ways of the Divine Mind. I am my mother’s son. The question, was that the celestial plan all along?” Zerr Dann chuckled his joy, tipped up his ale.

  “No. It was your father’s carnal plan. Love with the right incarnated angel.”

  “Incarnated angels. Reluctant saviors of their chosen world. That’s what mom always says. Especially on Earth.”

  “Your mother ought to know. Hey, I gotta a bone to pick with Seraphim Central. You’re just a cherub pup, still wet behind the celestial ears. Earth is evil-infested.” Jorque tossed back a large swallow, and leaned forward.

  “The serpents of darkness devouring the serpents of light, yes, a gathering of evil.” Zerr Dann glowed white-fiercely, ready for the battle.

  “What?” Jorque barking ribbed. “Three assignments completed beyond heaven’s gate?”

  Zerr Dann didn’t speak it, or think it. Sworn to sacred oath, his previous ‘assignment’ had been dangerous and brutal. Yet, he had proven his ‘warrior cherub’ mettle. Also, he owned a connection to his new assignment. One that had his curiosity on sizzle because of the woman—an Earther, his angel incarnate.

  “Three, yeah.” He grinned devilishly, his gaze good-natured. He swallowed more of his ale, listening to the night tavern crowd around them, where he and Jorque fit in. Here, they learned on the ‘front celestial lines’ what the high angelic realms needed to know. Since ‘beings’ in various physical manifestations of the Seraphim met with each other, all of them serving by assignment in the multitudes of physical worlds. Once their assignments were completed, they returned to this physical nexus realm. Designed to appear as part of the galaxy, the realm was also used as a constant training ground for service in the material worlds.

  “Yeah,” Zerr Dann easily grinned. “What do they say? About incarnated angels?”

  “Hot as sin. Carnal flight instead of celestial flight.”

  Zerr Dann paused, glanced over the rim of his mug. Deliberately he set it down. “Dad would agree. The difference, though. I won’t be her lover. She’s prayer-sworn off men for decades.”

  “Older Earth woman won’t be as threatened by a younger ‘cherub pup’. That the intervention strategy?”

  “You will be a devoted pet?” Zerr Dann eyed him intensely.

  “Arf, arf,” Jorque practiced. “I’ll even dutifully guard the pretend space ship.”

  “And I’ll dutifully guard our Earth angel unaware.” Zerr Dann drank the last dregs. “Mostly unaware,” he corrected. “She’s experienced glimpses of her true spiritual nature.”

  “Rare for an angel incarnate to endure, to last that long as an Earth human,” Jorque spoke, knowing there was more he wasn’t being told, probably a cosmos worth of knowledge. Still, he would go paw-digging for every tasty morsel of truth.

  “Yeah, rare. I’m soaring-eager to meet her, learn from her.” Zerr Dann’s small powerful wings, black as the galaxy, flapped his emotion. Wings naturally manifested in this environment, and temporarily eliminated in Earth’s vibration.

  * * * *

  “Have a holly jolly Christmas, it’s the best time of the year,” Sedona badly sang, just to dryly entertain herself. “Especially if you’re seasonally depressed and have no vitamin D,” she sarcastically stretched. “Oh by golly, 2012‘s not Christmas holly, oh by golly, the endtimes aren’t jolly. Is our salvation just unholy folly?”

  Sedona drove along the old one-lane highway southwest of what used to be Flagstaff, Arizona. Once the catastrophes lined up like the breadlines, it had become a FEMA /military base of operation. She had been fortunate to bypass the checkpoints without being stopped, and hauled off to the closest camp, then forced into some ungodly way of existence. Death was always preferable. And few her age cared anymore. No reason, no reason, at all.

  As usual she wondered about the great mystery. Why? Why am I still alive? In these unbelievably ugly times, with evil alive and well everywhere. Is it the grace of Goddess? It could only be grace. Only some strange miraculous grace that she still lived. The why of it? Sedona possessed no earthly clue.

  True, she could summon psychic abilities as naturally as she breathed, in certain crucial instances, especially healing,. Whenever the soft glow of ‘knowing’ occurred inside her, she could simply touch a person or an animal, and the healing would instantly take place. Yet, she couldn’t just heal anyone who needed it. And certainly, her abilities didn’t compare to other well-known Psychic/Healers.

  Still, she’d never fit in, not anywhere. And talk about choosing the ‘road less traveled’, she could be the iconic poster person on that book cover. Not that real books were available these days, except on the dangerous black market.

  Briefly, Sedona shook her head, wanting to get rid of the angst over her survival. In truth, she envied all those who died, their spirits traveling to the other side. Human or animal, it didn’t matter. Sedona envied them. Especially when she saw all the corpses, common now, and literally piled up the world over. She blessed them all to heaven and desperately wished, aching-wished she could join them.

  But she never had. Not yet.

  Sighing, Sedona watched the impressive light show in the night sky. All around her asteroids arced constantly, some
flashing out before they struck. Most of the stars couldn’t be seen, hidden by the ash haze of Mexico’s erupting volcanoes, hellish explosions she’d watched on an illegal TV feed. While hard on her lungs and eyes, the ash made the spy satellites useless, a victory in her book, since it impeded the net tight control of Homeland Security.

  The steady rain of asteroids for the last thirty-five days had been strangely beautiful, yet deadly to large land areas on Earth, and sometimes to remaining population centers. Yet, it also prevented the Homeland Hordes from rounding up the desired or eliminating the undesired.

  Slowly enough not to trigger the watch beams, her old early ‘90s van clumped along. Five years ago Sedona had eliminated every electronic device, and replaced the engine with an antique which had been converted to use water as fuel, although now, clean water was scarce in most places.

  No electronics, no herd-control implanted chips, and a lot less chance of being caught, then charged with a crime against the state. Any crime, it didn’t matter anymore. Jaywalking could be considered a crime against the state, even a possible terrorist act. Recently a man had been convicted as a terrorist for halting the progress of an enforcement vehicle, and sent away to the most grueling work station, simply because he jaywalked. That was life inside what some now called and accepted as the North American Union.

  Sedona didn’t accept it. Had never accepted it. She had neutralized every chip. But she couldn’t fight as a New Rebel either, even though she had trained the last five years to a high fitness level.

  Sixty-one years of age, she no longer had the stamina needed for that noble sacrifice. The New Rebels were always on the run, or attacking. Nor did she have the tech expertise, the brilliance to manipulate the big brother chips and the Darth Vader web systems.

  Having no family left, and not much of anything left, with her land stolen by the police state since it still produced crops, Sedona helped out wherever she could. And merely existed. Now she drove to a friend’s hidden sanctuary, invited when they’d managed to talk over a shortwave radio.

  Sedona grimaced at the irony of driving through Sedona, her namesake. Now deserted, the new age haven had been brutally wiped out by the New World Order’s bio-terrorism. Yep, the message had been cruelly delivered to all those who believed in sacred-creating an enlightened global order.

  In 2012 fear reigned. For most everyone.

  Seeing no one, she drove in silence. Even having an old radio on, if a signal could be snagged, upped her chances of being caught. “Run silent, run deep,” she quoted, ignoring the eery chill in her gut.

  “Fear rules everything. Okay, maybe not for those lucky enough to be at Maya Toga Days,” she mumbled, half-elated, half-repulsed by the idea. “Maybe a big fat miracle or two. The great solar flare of enlightenment courtesy of sun cycle 24.” She took a breath, musing. “I don’t suppose they have Christmas tree lights on the pyramid. Serpent lights, yeah, that’s the ticket. The ticket to paradise. The tree of life. Let’s all jump for joy. It’s a new kind of holly jolly Christmas. The garden of Eden returned, where the feathered serpents are Santas, delivering toys.”

  “Oh no.” Despair settled in her stomach like a rock. Her van slowed, clunking offensive loud noises. “It’s a good day to die. Good night to die.” Her own whisper knifed her insides, as she guided the rolling van toward the crumbling edge of the neglected highway. “Maybe the coyotes will get me first. Rather feed the wildlife,” she muttered.

  Slowly the van died, pathetically coughing, and obviously on its last wheels. Finally she rolled to a dead stop. Sedona breathed for a few moments, her hands glued to the steering wheel. She had to get out, and leave. Any stopped vehicle was immediately investigated. Already the road sensor beamed the signal. Pulling on two jackets, she grabbed her one huge bag of belongings, stepping out quickly.

  For a few moments, she leaned against the van, gazing around, trying to make some sort of decision about where to go, what to do. If it mattered. Ultimately mattered. In the shroud of scorched ash and night, she couldn’t see where to go. Or not go. Maybe an asteroid would just strike her down—a fiery puff of flesh, like human combustion—and it would be over. Lights out. Lights on in heaven.

  Sedona hissed a sigh. Too damn bad, the asteroids weren’t striking close enough. She tried to figure out how long she could walk along the highway before they found her. The few isolated towns, ranches or homesteads still left in the area, wouldn’t be safe for a stranger, no matter which side of the fence she claimed to be on, anti-government or pro-government. And she saw nothing, no lights of any kind.

  By habit she silently spoke prayers for help and protection. Hoisting her bag, Sedona shivered in the cold desert air of December. Gee. Only about three days to the end of the Mayan calendar. Do you think I could walk to LA in that time? Wondering what would be the easiest, quickest way to die in this circumstance, she slowly walked in the direction she had been driving. Maya Toga Days, here I come! Beam me aboard, feathered serpents. Just don’t serve me for dinner unless you do it humanely.

  Before Sedona could take more than a few steps, the cycle rider appeared, a whispering hum of sound. No lights, the cycle and the rider’s garments blended in with the night. Ten feet in front of her, the rider seemed to wait for her to approach. Obviously, this was no Homeland Nazi. She would have been on the ground, tasered, and probably dead. Certainly twitching in agony.

  Tensed to escape, she watched the rider remove his or her helmet. His helmet. He looked young from what she could see. Not a whole helluva lot, since the darkness ruled all.

  “Get on,” he invited. “Looks like you need a friendly lift.”

  Good Lord, his voice melted her insides. The movie star caliber of Tom Cruise, only better. Or what used to be considered movie star sexy. Not anymore. You might as well have Hitler speaking English in the current horror offering of movies to the mind-numbed public.

  “I could be dangerous,” she answered, trying to decide—not like there were many options. Him or Homeland, or run toward land she couldn’t really see worth an effing damn. She took a few steps toward him. If he was going to kill her, maybe it would be quick.

  “The Nazerazzi are more dangerous,” he offered, his tone practical. “And on their way. Enough room behind me for you and your bag.”

  Sedona sighed loudly, and decisively moved toward him. “Old Spice.,” she awe-muttered. “Where did you find that?”

  “Dad’s stuff.”

  Reaching back, he slid open the compartment, and Sedona stuffed her bag inside. “Goddess!” she warned. The searching lights of Homeland Security Hummers blazed in the distance Instantly, he closed the compartment, and she swung behind him.

  “Tight,” he commanded as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “Rebel?” she asked, just before he peeled out, then veered away from the advancing headlight’s phalanx. Sedona squeezed her eyes closed, feeling the wind whip over her. When she opened them, they flew over the land. And off the highway. No wheels beneath them.

  Cool as rare cucumbers, she thought. Rich rebel?

  Behind them she heard the drone trackers, the slight whistling. If she screamed to him about their presence, that would only make it worse, and make tracking them easier. Suddenly they soared through a narrow rock arch. And she heard the drones smash like giant wasps. Relieved, she sang inside with the temporary victory.

  Slowing his cycle, her maybe rescuer executed a ninety degree turn to the left, then they streaked through an immense canyon. Sedona only knew because he beamed his lights, a dim wide-sweeping radiance. Slowing again, he slid them through a small cave entrance. Quickly they cruised a winding irregular path through cave tunnels.

  Fear began in the pit of her stomach. But it was too late now. Was she about to be blood sacrificed to one of the New World Order cults? Their underground compounds snaked throughout the continent.

  Her blood freezing at the thought, she also knew part of her didn’t care. Goddess help her, she was s
o tired, and so horribly worn out. The long sleep of death, who would care? Or, waking up on the other side to loved ones seemed more than welcome, just given her probable future. Too bad and so sad, in a bizarre way. From what she could feel clinging to him, the young man would be as movie star sexy as his voice.

  Mmm-mmm, he did feel hunk-delicious.

  Sacrificed by an evil could-be movie star, to the rise of the New World Order. There was something hideously ironic about that. But she couldn’t think clearly or cleverly what. Just too bad this wasn’t one of her fantasies. Where he starred as the good guy who wanted her body, wanted her real damn bad. Like Rhett carrying Scarlett up the stairs, bad. Wanted her body as it had once been, and hotly, passionately ravished her. Yeah, too bad.

  Everything was too bad. The whole world was too bad, now. She tried to forget about her life, what had been. She tried to forget everyone, everything she’d lost. God, when she remembered, the horror of it all ripped through her, unbearable excruciating pain. Sedona wondered if the blood sacrifice would be as painful.

  Most days she wondered how she even stood up, and kept going. Maybe her life, everything she’d endured, would be worth it, if she could save the world. Maybe worth it. Sedona had her doubts. Still, how often had she wished she could save the world, and truly help people? The number of stars in the sky? Oh, how she’d tried her best and with her whole heart. Now, she was just too darn old.

  They stopped inside a small empty cavern. Warm, it was luminous enough to see. The cycle settled perfectly, and remained upright.

  “We’ll walk the rest of way. Are you okay?” He removed his helmet and turned back to her when she released his waist.

  “What are you going to do with me?” She leaned back, stared at his features, handsome and adorable. Almost magical.