Accidentaly Divine by Dakota Cassidy (best large ereader .TXT) 📗

as she fought to stay calm. He loosened his grip enough to allow her to speak, but his other hand, cold and oily, remained at the front of her neck, his grip so strong, she was having trouble breathing.

“I have to…I have to summon them,” she managed with a dry throat and a strained voice. “And I’m not very good at it. I’m… I’m just learning.”

His hold on her tightened, but it wasn’t only a physical restraint; George felt it in her core. This person felt evil, slimy, like a black cloud had floated up behind her, its grip, metaphorically speaking, swarmed her, making her skin crawl.

“Get them here now,” he ordered in a tone that could only be described as demonic.

His demand sent chills along her spine, so she closed her eyes and forced herself to try to summon her wings, all while his evil seeped into her pores and swirled about her like an aura of doom.

“Hurry up, for Christ’s sake!” he hissed in her ear, his impatience leaving her anxious as he yanked her chin up, straining the skin on her neck and pulling it so tight, she thought surely her head was going to pop off.

Why did he want her wings? How did she get them here—and fast? Suddenly, everything Dex had taught her flew out the window.

As she forced herself to concentrate, as his hand on her chin sickened her and the room closed in around her, all she heard was a roar of rage—rage that rattled her bones.

Rage so loud, it made the room quake and the floor beneath her feet tremble.

Chapter 13

“Who the fuck are you?” Nina growled, before a body flew across the room and sailed right out one of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

George’s head jerked as far back as it would go when the hands at her mouth and throat were ripped away, leaving her neck to snap back with a grunt.

The dogs began to bark, Sauerkraut up and on her haunches, growling for all she was worth, while Gladys bravely followed suit.

George scrambled off the couch to see the blur of Nina, all limbs and hair, fly out the window and go after whoever had held her captive. She reached for the dogs, stroking their backs and hoping to settle them.

“It’s okay, guys. Sit,” she whispered, hearing the tremble of her raspy voice in her ears, unable to process what was going on around her.

The sound of feet pounding down the stairs and raised voices rang in her ears, as she reached for the edge of the couch to right herself, the muscles in her neck burning.

“George!” Marty yelled, rushing to her side, her silky bathrobe wafting around her frame. “Honey, are you okay?” She brushed her hair from her eyes with gentle hands and examined her neck. “What happened?”

Wanda ran toward the window, her fuzzy lavender bathrobe flying behind her. She stuck her head around the frame and took a deep whiff of the frigid air. “I’ve got this one, Marty! You stay with George.”

Then, without a word, she hopped out and took off into the curtain of white snow.

“George? Tell me what happened?” Marty demanded, gripping her hand. “Are you okay?”

Was she okay? Were you ever okay when someone was willing to choke you to death to get their hands on something you had?

Yet, George only shrugged, minimizing her fear in front of this mighty woman who didn’t appear to be afraid of anything. “I’m fine. My neck’s a little sore, but I’m okay.” Then she nodded at the broken window. “We’d better board that up until we can get someone to fix it.”

Marty rolled her eyes. “Okay, talk and walk, but I’m not going to let you off the hook. Something happened and it was scary, and it’s okay to say so.”

The burden she’d turned into with this wing business weighed heavy on her. As George explained what had occurred, she followed Marty on shaky legs into her enormous basement, where the pretty werewolf grabbed a piece of plywood, a hammer and some nails from the dusty room.

As they made their way back up the stairs, George took deep breaths, refusing to give in to her fear, but that voice, that sinister voice, kept playing over and over in her head, his hot breath fanning over her neck only a recollection away.

As they reached the top of the landing, Dex was there, his face a mask of concern. “George?”

He held out his arms, and as Marty stepped out of the way, she stepped into them, pressing her cheek to his warm sweater to inhale the scent of laundry detergent and man.

A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, but she swiped it away, furious that smarmy asshole had brought her to tears.

“Marty texted me. What happened?” Dex asked, resting his chin on top of her head, the rumble of his voice soothing her.

“How did you get here so fast?” she asked tearfully.

“Remember I told you being an angel has its perks and you would learn all about them and how to use them in due time?”

“Is one of the perks teleportation? I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet,” she joked on a sniffle.

“Then just tell me what happened instead.”

She explained to him what had gone down and what the man, whoever he was, said he wanted. “Have we figured out what the deal is with my wings? Because he was strong as an ox, Dex. I thought he was going to rip my head off, and since we’ve decided we don’t know for sure if I’m impervious to death, I don’t want to take chances. In other words, I felt a little defenseless. I’m assuming super-strength doesn’t go hand in hand with angeling like it does with lycanthropy and vampirism, does it?”

Dex tightened his embrace and rasped a sigh. “There will be things you’ll be able to do to protect yourself, but it’s needed so rarely. I promise you, this is an anomaly,