Echo of an Earth Angel (The Earth Angel Trilogy: #1)

  Copyright © 2012 by Sarah M. Ross

  Amazon Edition

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  About the author

  Book 2 Sample

  For Tom

  Gone too soon and will always be missed

  “I already regret leaving the house.”

  “You’re doing fine. Ignore those snobby old hags,” Morgan reassured her.

  Patrons of Armond’s usually possessed refined manners, but today they stared openly at Tessa Copeland. She wanted to turn her face away from their eyes filled with pity and remorse, but couldn’t bring herself to move an inch. When a hand gave her arm a reassuring squeeze, she remembered to breathe and finally took a step forward.

  “You sure you’re willing to be seen in public with the town freak, Morg? This could really ruin your reputation.”

  “If I can stand by your side through your ‘I heart the 80s’ phase--crimped hair and side pony tails, and agree against all my natural instincts to keep a lookout for teachers while you made out with that perv George Hess behind the soccer field during gym class in seventh grade, I think I can handle a dinner at a five star restaurant.”

  Tessa laughed. She was glad Morgan moved in with her. Her recovery was a long ordeal, and to live in a large empty house after coming home from the hospital was a little too much. She needed her best friend now more than ever. Convincing Morgan’s parents took some effort, but since both girls were now eighteen, they agreed. It helped that Tessa played the orphan card. She’d met Morgan in kindergarten when they shared the last butterscotch pudding cup at snack time. From that moment on, they shared everything—from clothes and taste in guys to their deepest, darkest secrets.

  “And then George never called. You cried for a week,” Morgan teased.

  “I did?”

  “Yes sweetie. I brought you an Alanis Morrisette CD and Chunky Monkey ice cream. You cried while we watched old John Hughes movies all weekend.”

  “I wish I could remember.” Tessa wanted to bang her head against the table, but knew it would only get her more stares.

  “It’ll come back. Remember what the doctor said, we just have to be patient.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Tessa snorted, but then smiled. I’d be so lost without Morgan.

  Before they could duck and hide, the head of the community Garden and Ladies Club sashayed over, no doubt to see what gossip she could collect for their next meeting. “Ah, Miss Copeland. It’s lovely to see you again. I’m glad to see you’re doing well after that horrible accident.”

  Tessa smiled politely, but didn’t answer. Instead, she ignored the old crone and let Morgan take the lead like she’d been doing for the last few months.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Ahlquist. Tessa is feeling much better.”

  “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do? It must be hard living in that house all by yourself—all of those memories haunting you. You could sell it and move into a nice apartment. Here’s my daughter’s card, she’s in real estate.”

  Morgan battled all of her natural instincts to tell the woman exactly where she could stick the business card. She didn’t take it. Instead she snuggled closer to Tessa, entwined their fingers, and placed her head on Tessa’s shoulder. “She’s not alone. She has me. And we’re doing fine in that big house all alone, just the two of us. Thank you so much for your kind words and well wishes. It was simply marvelous to see you again Mrs. Ahlquist. Please say hello to the ladies of the garden club for us. Bu-bye.”

  The woman’s jaw practically hit the floor, but she didn’t say anything. She simply nodded curtly and took her leave. Tessa sank deeper into the rounded leather booth in the back of the restaurant, glad the high back granted them privacy before both girls erupted into giggles. Those women would be gossiping about the “unnatural relationship” between the girls for months.

  Armond’s was a beautiful place, full of old, dark cherry stained wood fixtures and Tiffany sconces hanging above the booths. Crisp white tablecloths adorned each table. Tessa ran her finger around the rim of the crystal water glass, enjoying the hum it made as she lost herself in thought. She came here often with her parents as a kid, never really appreciating its beauty. As she took in the familiar sounds and smells, she forced her eyes not to well with tears. Today was about honoring her parents’ memory, not crying about how she missed her mommy and daddy.

  Tessa had been out of the hospital for two months, but never ventured much further than her neighborhood’s security gates. While the doctors assured her that she was physically fine and would most likely recover the rest of her memory once she got her life back into a normal groove, Tessa doubted they were right. She felt as if her brain was now a giant block of Swiss cheese. She could remember the name of her eighth grade English teacher, but had no idea who the pastor of her church was. When Morgan suggested dinner at her favorite restaurant, she remembered its name, but not where it was or even which food was her favorite. She was frustrated, to put it mildly.

  A meticulously dressed waiter approached the table with a large bottle of Pellegrino and poured each of the girls a glass before speaking in a heavy French accent. “Bonsoir Mademoiselle Copeland. I was so sorry to hear about your parents. You have my deepest condolences.”

  “Thank you,” Tessa murmured.

  “Do you want to start with your usual appetizer before ordering your entrée?” The waiter waited patiently for her answer.

  “My usual?” Tessa’s heart quickened its beat as anxiety set in. She tried to remember, but no memory came.

  Morgan noticed her panic rising and leaned in toward Tessa to whisper, “Calamari. It’s your favorite.” The knot in her stomach dissipated slightly at Morgan’s words. “That would be lovely.”

  The waiter nodded once and left, giving them a few more minutes to look over the menu. Tessa ran her hands up and down the spine of the leather bound book, not reading the words, but examining her hands.

  “Can we get it to go? I wanna go home,” Tessa thought she was ready, bu
t it was too soon. Sitting on the couch in comfy sweats with a bowl of powdered mac & cheese sounded much better at this moment.

  “Tessa, you can’t hide in your house forever. You need to get back on the horse. I know it’s hard, but I’m here to help you. Me and you girly. Besides, we’re doing this for your parents. It would have been their anniversary today, and you wanted to honor them.”

  Tessa knew Morgan’s words were supposed to be comforting, but they had the opposite effect and only reminded her that she was truly alone. She was an only child and an orphan. She’d spent most of her 17th year of life in a coma, and the courts couldn’t put her into foster care because her recovery took so long; she turned eighteen two days before being released from the hospital. She inherited the entirety of her family’s vast estate, but she’d give it all back to see her mom and dad one more time.

  “Alright, just dinner though, I’m drawing the line at dessert,” she said with a smile, aware Morgan knew full well there was no way she’d ever willingly give up dessert. Through all of her craziness, she never forgot her love of chocolate.

  The fried calamari came, and Tessa dipped it in the tangy sauce before taking a bite. She immediately spit it out. “I liked this?” Tessa took a big gulp of the bubbly water trying to clear the awful taste out of her mouth.

  Morgan popped another piece in her mouth and smiled. “You don’t now? Fine by me, that means I get to devour it all! You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  Tessa searched the menu for something edible while munching on a breadstick. Most of the menu was in French, and while she’d been told numerous times she fluently spoke the language, it looked foreign. As she tried to make sense of the choices, the hairs on the back of her neck rose. She thought the old ladies would’ve grown tired of staring by now, but the feeling was back. Stretching, she reached for her purse on the floor—giving her the opportunity to survey the room for the source. There were a few tables of people, mostly couples in their forties and fifties, but none paid her any attention. She shook off the feeling—it was just her imagination—and looked back at the menu deciding on the chicken. She couldn’t go wrong with chicken.

  Morgan ordered the roasted duck and resumed her story, explaining to Tessa about the guy she’d been seeing for the last few months.

  “I’m sorry. Remind me again how you met? It’s not like you to date guys from school,” Tessa asked, trying to focus on her friend and not the snobby ladies around her.

  “I met him at Dairy Queen. We both ordered the Oreo Blizzard and when they put one on the counter, we reached for it at the same time and spilled it. That was it. We’ve been together ever since. I took him to senior prom last month, even though he’s a freshman in college, and he’s been so supportive about me going to the hospital to visit you every day. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

  “That’s really sweet, Morg. I can’t wait to meet him.” Tessa replied vaguely, not really paying attention to her story. A shudder rolled through her as paranoia caused her eyes to dart around the room. Again, no one seemed familiar. But that was hardly news nowadays. She briefly entertained the idea of pretending to go to the bathroom, but stopped when she heard Morgan’s voice.

  “I have an amazing idea. The perfect way to take your mind off things. We can watch the video from senior prom when we get back. I made the AV department videotape pretty much all of the past year so you could watch it when you woke up. Uck! You should have seen how slutty Abby McCalister looked in her dress. She could have been an extra in Pretty Woman in that tacky monstrosity.” When Tessa didn’t reply, Morgan tried again, “Or maybe we can play tennis? With any luck you won’t remember you’re practically a pro and I’ll have a shot at beating you for once.”

  “Um, whatever you want to do. I’ll leave it up to you.”

  The girls played “Name that Toupee”, guessed who was secretly wearing Depends, and when their food finally came they each had tears in their eyes from laughing so hard. The waiter sat Morgan’s duck in front of her. “Please, miss, be careful as the plate—”

  Morgan had already grabbed the plate to turn it. “Ow!” she cried, grasping her already blistering palm.

  “I am so sorry, miss. I didn’t mean—I shouldn’t have—I’ll go get a first aid kit and a wash cloth.” The waiter rushed into the kitchen, nearly tripping a busboy on the way.

  Without thinking, Tessa grabbed Morgan’s hand even as she fought the nausea that rode in like a wave at seeing her friend hurt. A warm glow radiated out of Tessa’s hands like a single lit candle in a dark room and flowed onto Morgan. Tessa gasped and turned to Morgan, but her eyes were closed, wincing in pain. The waiter reappeared, with the maître d’ in tow and Tessa quickly let go of Morgan and hid her hands under the table. The men tripped over their tongues apologizing, and held out aloe leaves and bandages to assuage the damage until she could be seen by a doctor. Tessa kept her eyes glued to the residual glow that faded until only a trace remained visible in her fingertips. Thankfully, no one noticed and she relaxed slightly. She originally hoped the glow had been a trick of her imagination, a leftover side effect of the coma perhaps. It hadn’t happened since the hospital, and she prayed it’d never happen again—it was just one more thing that labeled her a freak. The waiter opened Morgan’s hand to rub a freshly cut piece of aloe on it. Everyone stopped.

  “Mon Dieu, it’s gone!” the waiter exclaimed, trembling as he made the sign of the cross. Morgan opened her eyes and inspected her hand. The burn was gone. There was no redness, blistering, or peeling skin whatsoever. The maître d’ just scowled at the group with a raised eyebrow, assuming the extent of the injury was highly exaggerated by a flighty waiter and two overdramatic teenage girls.

  “I swear it was burned, but it doesn’t hurt anymore,” Morgan marveled, turning her hands over as she inspected them closely. The men wandered away, mumbling in French.

  Tessa shrank back into her seat and wondered to herself, “Did I fix her? Oh sweet heaven what have I done? What kind of freak am I?”

  Across the restaurant, David pretended to read the latest Vernon Baker novel at his table, but couldn't take his eyes off Tessa. Everything about her was beautiful, from the gentle way she fingered the menu with her delicate hands to how brightly she smiled when her friend told a joke. If he stared at her for a hundred years, it wouldn’t be enough time to fully comprehend her beauty. He was glad she finally came out in public more. For weeks he longed to see her, but she was holed up in her house recovering. He’d been keeping tabs on her since he first laid eyes on her over a year ago, always careful to not give his presence or involvement away. He knew it was wrong and against the rules, but he couldn’t help himself—he actually felt when he was around her. The depth of her eyes and the kindness, bravery, and fierce determination that shone through them captured him from the fateful first moment.

  It was the moment he knew he’d fallen in love with her.

  If any of the higher powers found out what he’d done the day of the shooting, there’d be grave consequences for both of them. Despite the threat of penalties, he didn’t regret saving her life. The world needed her in it, and he didn’t agree with the decision to let her pass on. It wasn’t her time; he felt it in his core. Protecting her became his mission. He would make sure nothing went wrong until he had the chance to explain what happened and how her life would change.

  His decision to save her inadvertently granted her admittance to a world she never knew existed. She was going to be alone, apart from the few comforts she had left. He remembered just how frightened he felt at the beginning of the transition and grimaced wishing he could offer her solace.

  “Is there anything else I can get you, sir?” the waiter asked, obviously calculating the pittance of a tip he would receive from someone who ordered just a bowl of French onion soup. David knew coming to the swanky establishment was risky, and he couldn’t afford much on the menu, but getting the chance to see Tessa made it worth it.

  “Um
, yes. I’ll see your dessert menu. Thank you.”

  “Very well, sir.” The waiter turned to leave, but David could still see him as he stood with the other waiters gossiping as he grabbed a menu. David knew he took up a valuable seat during the dinner rush, but wouldn’t be shamed into leaving. He smoothed down the front of his thrift store shirt that even in its prime wasn’t good enough for this place and dipped his cloth napkin in the water glass to try to get a stain out of it.

  He ordered the house specialty, Bananas Foster, and dared a glance in her direction again while he waited for the flambéing to begin. As she tucked a piece of her soft strawberry blonde curls behind her ear, he wondered if it still smelled like her fruity shampoo or if she used something new after the accident. Would it be as soft as silk when he ran his fingers through it? Would he ever be able to wrap the fine threads around his fingers and watch as the curls bounced in the light?

  He stayed lost in his thoughts until someone shouted and the waiter ran by. People leaned around booths and stood up to view the commotion. A mild panic gripped him as he wondered if Tessa was alright. He stood, and started to walk towards her table when Tessa healed her friend. The familiar glow emanating from her hands made his stomach twist. Being caught in public would only cause more trouble, which they couldn’t afford. David craned his neck, stretching his six foot six inch frame to take in the entire dining room, and said a quick prayer of thanks that the high backs of the booths blocked the view from public.

  David muttered another curse. He placed his hand on his frantically bouncing knee to slow it and pushed aside his half uneaten dessert. He had to tell her. The time had come. If she didn’t find out the truth soon, she’d undoubtedly think she’d gone crazy. But he couldn’t do it now, not with a crowd around. He’d go see her tonight and explain everything: from how she survived the shooting to how to use her new abilities. Maybe I’ll even confess my feelings towards her. No, that wasn’t possible. She deserved so much better than someone like me, disgraced from even my own kind for more than just going rogue. She deserved a normal, happy life. He laughed at the irony of the thought. No, Tessa would never be normal again. I just hope she’ll understand.