Avenger's Angel: A Novel of the Lost Angels Read Online Free

manager? “Give them a minute, I guess. Maybe they just need some time to get ready. If they’re still back there in five, we’ll tell Dianne.”
    “Oh my God!”
    Eleanore jumped and turned to face a group of three girls who were standing at the entrance to the science fiction aisle behind her. One of the girls was pointing at Eleanore.
    “I heard you! Christopher Daniels is here, isn’t he?”
    “What? No, I—”
    “I heard that guy on the other end, Shaun! He said that they were pulled up by the back door!” The girl’s voice dropped to a very loud, conspiratorial whisper and she turned frantically to her two companions. “Oh my God, guys, we can head to the back of the store and see him before anyone else does!”
    “Wait!” But before Eleanore could even contemplate stopping the trio, the girls were off like Abercrombie-armored rockets, weaving through the store to the front door while trying not to draw too much attention to themselves.
    “Crap.” Eleanore pressed the talk button on the walkie-talkie and put her hand on her hip. “Shaun, do me a favor?”
    “Sure, babe.”
    “We’ve got a threesome of Brakes Flakes racing toward Christopher Daniels’s limo. Can you head them off for me, please?”
    Shaun managed to click the talk button on his handset in time for Eleanore to catch his laugh. “I’ll see what I can do.”
    “Thanks.” She put the radio back on the desk and ran a rough hand through her hair. “Shit.” She squeezed her eyes shut tight. Then she picked up the phone at the desk and addressed her boss. “Dianne, I’m afraid I need to head back to help Daniels. There’s a group of fans racing through the store.”
    It was clear from her heavy sigh that Dianne wasn’t pleased. “No kidding. The kids in front just noticed, and there are more heading back there now. I’ll get someone to cover for you temporarily. Hurry and help Shaun,” she replied and hung up.
    Eleanore whirled around and left the customer service desk to head toward the exit beyond the bathrooms, but just as she was passing the women’s restroom, the distinct sound of someone retching stopped her in her tracks.
    Oh no, she thought. Someone’s sick .
    The sound came again, this time followed by the low whine and sniffling sounds obviously made by a child. Eleanore’s heart broke. Not only was the person sick—she was just a kid.
    “Crap,” she whispered. Double crap.
    She glanced once toward the locked back door and then down at the key that hung on a lanyard around her neck. She had a choice to make. She could go and save Christopher Daniels from his fans and, in turn, save the bookstore from any resulting reprimands, and hence, save herself from losing her job.
    Or she could go and save the child instead.
    As Eleanore pushed on the swinging door to the women’s restroom, she realized that there had really been no choice to make, after all.
     
    Uriel stared out the window at the falling rain. He sighed. One of his given powers was that he could forecast the weather; he could accurately determine what the sky was going to do a good while before it actually did it. However, today the storm had come without warning.
    Which left Uriel a bit befuddled. Perhaps he was more distracted than he’d realized. He had to admit that he’d been busy. Filming for the second movie had been nonstop and trying. Promotional interviews for the first movie took up the majority of whatever time was left. Add to that signing autographs and answering fan mail and finding dates for red carpet events . . .
    “Shit,” he suddenly swore under his breath.
    “And here I was hoping that you were just about to tell me that you were finally ready to go in and lie down in the bed you’ve made for yourself.” Gillihan sighed. “What is it now?” He still sat back against the opposite seat, his legs crossed, his hands resting casually on his perfectly creased trousers. He arched one brow and waited for Uriel to answer.
    “I have