Excerpt of Reluctant Angel by Chastity Bush

A brilliant arc of shimmering, multicolored lights swirled around her. The wind whipped through her hair, slapping the tips painfully against her face and neck as she tumbled, end over end, through the empty night sky.

Ever since the day she died and entered the afterlife realm, Killian dreamed of falling to Earth, but as she hurtled out of control through the night sky, she wondered if she really understood what she'd agreed to do.

The rainbow of lights stopped, and only the whirring of the wind in her ears and the thick, green ground racing up to meet her remained.

Closing her eyes, Killian forced herself to relax, her body becoming limp as she fell the final feet to Earth.

Her body vibrated.

A gentle hum traveled from the soles of her feet to the tips of her fingers. A fine sheen of sweat dewed her skin.

Moments ticked by as she stared with unseeing eyes through the canopy of leaves at the star–littered sky.

Her lungs burned as she gasped, sucking in her first breaths in nearly a decade.

Gradually sensation returned to her body. She cautiously wiggled her fingers and toes as the hum tingling through her slowly dissipated.

Bracing herself for any pain she might experience, she sat up but felt nothing.

She stood carefully. Her legs shook as she steadied herself. She gazed at the unfamiliar surroundings as she turned in a small circle.

Towering trees blocked out most of the sky. Only slivers of moonlight peeked through the thick canopy of leaves, illuminating the jungle floor. Creeping, climbing vines and moss slithered along the trunks of the trees and across the ground. The sound of insects echoed in the air, and the ever–present cries and howls of unknown animals laced the darkness.

"Where am I?"

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Killian tried to gather her bearings. "Are you aware you're naked?" a booming voice sounded.

Jerking her gaze forward, she frowned at the man before her, then looked down and frowned harder as she examined her nude body.

Wow.

Her breasts sat higher than her old ones and looked amazingly firm; her stomach, flat, her waist slim. Peering farther down, she smiled at her curvaceous hips and nicely toned legs. This body was more than acceptable.

Hope I can keep it.

Snapping out of her trance, she glared at the man standing before her. He looked as though he could gobble her up, but he always looked that way. As if he was on the edge of attacking, then killing his victim with pleasure.

Covering her breasts with one forearm and her sex with the other, she met the indigo blue eyes piercing her and scowled.

"What are you doing here, Mick? Shouldn't you be training the new recruits?"

"What kind of greeting is that for someone bearing gifts?"

Holding out a backpack and a rolled–up sleeping bag in one hand and a pair of boots and a machete with the other, he continued, "You might need these. I'm sure your human would like you as you are, as you're quite impressive, but I fear he might fail to take you seriously."

Grabbing the items, she tossed the pack to the ground and quickly shrugged into the undergarments. All the while, Mick's sight stayed firmly fixed upon her.

"Isn't there some rule against you seeing me naked or something? You are an angel."

"Fallen, must I remind you ... as are you. The rules no longer apply to us. Besides, I was only looking, not touching."

Digging into the pack as he spoke, Killian found food, water, and some extra changes of clothing.

Even after all this time, she was still a bit distraught that the afterlife wasn't what she'd expected it to be. It wasn't even really "heaven" at all, but a different realm, a different plane where the dead made their own happiness, their own "heaven." She'd expected pearly gates and streets of gold. But the realm was different; you made your own paradise. She'd never taken the time to build hers. She'd been too busy training and fighting as the warrior she'd been recruited to be.

Her new body became uncomfortably warm in the humid jungle air.

"Why'd you come?"

"I've been assigned to watch over you and report back to Ayden with your progress. I was sent to give you these provisions, and the details of your mission."

"I know the details. I'm to defeat the Destroyer in order to earn a new soul so I can remain on Earth."

Mick wrinkled his perfectly straight nose and rolled his eyes most inelegantly.

Mick was an exceptionally handsome man with thick blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and the body of an Adonis. Killian found it odd to think of herself, or Mick, as angels when they didn't even live in heaven.

She didn't feel like an angel. She felt exactly as she had as a mortal, complete with the same sexual needs and urges. Mick was blunt, and oftentimes intrusive, but it wasn't as if they could be called anything else. Those who entered the realm dubbed them angels, and it stuck.

Peeking at Mick from beneath her lashes, she wondered if Mick still experienced those recurring needs.

It would certainly explain the hungry look lingering in his eyes.

"That's only a perk to your mission." He shook his head. "Didn't you listen to Ayden? What am I saying, of course you didn't. While you trek through this jungle in search of the Destroyer, you're to convince your assigned human his life is worth living again. Then you face the Destroyer and earn your shot at a new life."

Killian flopped down onto the backpack and she slid on the thick socks and boots. "How am I supposed to help this human? I haven't been alive in over a decade."

"You were given this mission because you seem to be the only one who's hell–bent on living again. Surely you can convince this mortal that living is better than dying."

Rolling her eyes, she stood and slung the pack over her shoulder.

"You can piss and moan all you like, Killian, but you have eight days to save this human and defeat the Destroyer, or Ayden will collect you, and you know how he is."

Knowing Ayden, he'd toss her ass over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and haul her back to the realm, kicking and screaming.

She frowned. "Yeah, he's a real piece of work." Her polite way of saying he was a real asshole.

Stepping forward, Mick held out a small picture. She gazed at it.

"Your human."

Taking the picture he offered, Killian looked into the face of a handsome man with dark brown hair and matching eyes.

"His name's Chase Crawford. He's a soldier turned mercenary. After his wife and child died, he started taking on these jobs, but lately he's become reckless, bordering on suicidal. If you can save him, there's something special in store for him."

"And what might that be?"

"Can't say." Mick shrugged.

Shoving the picture into her pocket, she glanced around.

"So, where am I? This obviously isn't the Amazon, or any other jungle I've ever been to, for that matter."

"This is actually an uncharted island," Mick began. "Most of it's covered in this dense jungle, but of course, the coastlines are clear. It's the perfect place for the Destroyer to reside. It's secluded, large, and the only humans inhabiting the island are a group of natives. They aren't friendly, by the way, so I'd keep my distance if I were you, unless you'd like to be passed around before your head becomes the centerpiece on their chief's table."

So, I'm in some foreign jungle, surrounded by headhunters, looking for a suicidal mercenary ... terrific.

"Avoid the natives, get the human over his pity–party, defeat the Destroyer, and live happily ever after. Got it." She gave him a sarcastic thumbs–up.

Mick stepped forward and placed his hand on Killian's shoulder. "Do you really hate being an angel that much?"

As she stared into his eyes, she tried to read the expression lingering within, but as always, she couldn't. He was too old; too long an angel to be read so easily. Only a flicker of the human he once was remained. She didn't want to become like him, or like Ayden—a spirit with no recollection of how wonderful life had been when they flourished on Earth among the living. She'd made a mess of the life she'd been given.

This was her only shot at redemption.

Blinking back tears, she shook her head and looked away quickly. "No, I just miss it."

Mick swiped away a tear with the pad of his thumb. His usual booming voice grew soft and soothing. "That life's long gone now, Killian. You can never go back, even if you do earn a new soul. You do understand, don't you?"

She hated to admit it, but he was right. She'd seen her husband and his new wife and child. They were happy, and she'd been long forgotten. But life still called to her. She desperately wanted a second chance at life ... at love. Mick just didn't understand. No one did, and especially not Ayden.

"I know. I'm not going back for him. I don't need him or anyone else," she said bitterly, pulling away from Mick's gentle hold.

A glimmer of emotion slid across Mick's face. For an instant she could've sworn it was sympathy. But that couldn't be. Mick never felt an ounce of pain, sorrow, or regret. At least not that he let others see.

Mick reached behind him and pulled a long sword from a sheath strapped across his back. Its metal glinted in the light of the moon. "You'll need this if you're to defeat the Destroyer." Stepping forward, he then secured it snugly to her back.

Mick. Her superior, and as much as she hated to admit it, over the years he'd become her closest friend. She'd miss him when all this was over, but she couldn't let this opportunity pass her by.

Mick walked several feet away from her, his long, blond hair swaying gently in the humid breeze before he turned back to face her. "I've tried telling you it's not going to be easy, but you never believe anything until you see it for yourself. Even if you get a new soul, and even if it's an immortal one, it'll end someday, and you'll end up right back with us, doing what you're good at. Everything's temporary."

Turning away from her again, his image wavered.

"Wait!"

Mick faced her. "Yes?"

"How am I supposed to save this human when I'm stuck on some unidentified island? I don't even know where he is or how to get to him."

Mick shook his head. "Don't worry about it. He'll find you."

"You mean he's here? Alone in a foreign jungle?"

This just keeps getting better and better.

She was supposed to keep this guy alive, and he was out there, alone and unaware in a jungle crawling with cannibalistic natives.

What a way to begin.

Mick grinned. "Relax, Killian, he's a mercenary. He's used to this kind of thing."

She frowned. "Yeah, I'm sure he's real accustomed to waking up in a strange place with no recollection of how he got there."

With a dazzling smile and a blinding flash of brilliant white light, Mick disappeared.