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Bound (The Tate Chronicles #0.6) Page 2
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When I woke the sky was lighter. I lay on my stomach. A stick poked painfully into my cheek. I lifted my head, brushed the dirt from my face then struggled to my knees. My body was sore and my head cloudy. It took a few moments before I could find my feet and get my bearings.
I stood in the small clearing and stared at my tree. The split taunted me, a reminder of what I’d done, but it looked different. It was higher up the trunk. I moved closer and reached out to run my fingers along the rough edge, like I’d done so many times before.
My hands were different. The skin was smoother, younger. I realised the split hadn’t changed, I had. I was shorter, and when I looked down at myself—even though I couldn’t see my face—it was obvious Michael had done what I’d asked.
“Grace,” I said to the quiet morning, my voice splicing through the peacefulness.
I had to find her, and I knew exactly where she’d be.
Michael travelled by balls of light, but because I was fallen I travelled by a black mist. It carried me to the edge of the Tate property where I hid in the shadows. Over the years Grace had become predictable. Every morning she went for a walk at the same time, and I didn’t have to wait long before she emerged from the shed. The ground was heavy with dew and she walked across the sparkling grass as if she were walking on a carpet of quartz.
Her eight-year-old childish features were beautiful. Her skin was like porcelain, her hair as black as a raven. And her eyes—they gleamed like sapphires. She would grow into the glorious angel I knew her to be. The first time I’d seen her in this incarnation, I’d been surprised, but grateful, to discover she’d chosen to look like her true self. In her previous lives Grace had always looked different, which is why this time around I held more hope that things would change between us.
I stayed a safe distance behind her until she stopped to sit on a rock. Grace had always been able to sense my presence, and it made sneaking up on her very hard, but this time I wanted her to know I was there. I dragged my feet through the undergrowth so she would hear me, then I stepped out from my hiding place.
Grace stared at me with a look of bewilderment in her eyes.
“Finally,” I said. “You haven’t run away yet.”
I sat on the forest floor and crossed my legs, picked up a leaf and crushed it. The broken pieces fell through my fingers when I opened my hand.
“How…” Grace shook her head. “No. I don’t want to know. I’ll bet you made a deal with the Devil.”
I tried not to smile but failed miserably. “Something like that.”
“Did you sell your soul for your youth? Oh wait! You’ve already sold it.”
My smile dropped. How right she was. I stared hard at Grace, and it was as if neither of us wanted to be the first to look away.
“Things will be different this time,” I said. “I can grow up with you, instead of having to wait. Maybe then I can convince—”
“I don’t want things to be different. I just want you to leave me alone.”
Grace stood and headed for the path.
I chuckled. “I can’t do that, Grace. As much as I want to, I could never leave you alone.”
“Then stay out of my way,” she said.
“Or what?” I sniggered.
Grace orbed and landed behind me. She grabbed me around the neck and pulled me to my feet. When our skin touched, mine blazed with a heat so powerful it reminded me what I was fighting for. Grace shoved me and I lurched forward, sprawling on my belly. My hands gouged the dirt and sent leaves flying in every direction. I rolled over and glared at her.
“Or I’ll make you wish you’d never been created,” she said.
I didn’t want to hang around to cop any more of Grace’s anger. It was clear she wasn’t going to listen. I misted back to my tree and dropped to my knees in the small clearing. When I thought about it I’d probably rushed into confronting her looking like I did. We may have looked like children, but she certainly wasn’t a child, and neither was I.
There were plenty of fallen angels that owed me a favour, so finding a place to live wouldn’t be a problem. I needed time to regroup, to think of a better way to get Grace to listen to me. She couldn’t push me away forever, I wouldn’t let her.
The biggest fight of my existence was only just getting started.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
K. A. Last was born in Subiaco, Western Australia, and moved to Sydney with her parents and older brother when she was eight. Artistic and creative by nature, she studied Graphic Design and graduated with an Advanced Diploma. After marrying her high school sweetheart, she concentrated on her career before settling into family life. Blessed with a vivid imagination, she began writing to let off creative steam, and fell in love with it. She now resides in a peaceful, leafy suburb north of Sydney with her husband, their two children, and a rabbit named Twitch.
You can connect with K. A. Last by following her
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