Mirror of My Soul by Joey Hill (book club recommendations .TXT) 📕

But no pain, not the fires of hell itself, was going to loosen her grip on the precious bundle in her arms. Chute gone, momentum arrested, they dropped like a stone the last fifty feet into the cup of the awning. It bucked violently at the impact as they shot down it like rocks carried by the power of an avalanche. She wrapped both her arms around Natalie’s back, her right hand and arm bent over the fragile skull. The wire frame jammed into her ribs, taking her breath before they went over.

Her gaze was suddenly filled with white, her parachute landing in the street, the cloud of nylon rolling over and over, bringing the first police car screaming up to the scene to an abrupt halt. Then she was falling. She closed her eyes, anticipating the pavement.

Instead, she collided with warm flesh, a sensation so startling for the sense of déjà vu, her eyes sprang open. It took her a moment to realize she was on the sidewalk with Tyler beneath her, his hard arms around her and the child, his amber eyes seeking hers.

Mac had a firm grip on her legs.

They were on the ground. They’d made it. They…

Marguerite exploded off the ground, Natalie still in her arms. She staggered, fell to one knee, tried for her feet again.

“Angel, angel…” Tyler caught hold of her as she struggled.

“Where? Where is he?”

Mac stopped her forward progress, directed her attention with a nod. A bevy of police were now around the crumpled form of her father. As she looked, the officer on his knee next to the body raised his head, looked toward Mac and shook his head.

Her knees gave out but Tyler caught her, eased her to the ground. His strength was here, all around her and she pressed her face into his shoulder, inhaling him. She was beyond tears, beyond screaming, too overwhelmed to speak. As she held Natalie’s shaking body, stroked her hand over her snarled hair, she felt the wetness on her legs where the child’s bladder had let go and knew deep, shuddering joy at these signs of life. Natalie’s mother would come and hold her through the nightmares, but they would fade in time. She wouldn’t have to figure out how to do it alone. She raised her gaze to Tyler’s face and realized this time she wouldn’t either.

179

Joey W. Hill

“You said you’d catch me if I fell.” It was barely a whisper, but he heard it, she could tell from the emotion in his eyes. His body was shaking, his hands on her trembling.

“I didn’t think I’d have to prove it quite so literally.”

She drew deep breaths of him again, used her teeth on the pounding pulse in his throat. She suddenly, insanely wanted to devour him alive, to bring him into her body and never let go, always feel his strength and power, taking her over.

Saving her before the darkness could take her.

180

Mirror of My Soul

Chapter Seventeen

At length, he and Mac helped her to her feet and got her seated on the hood of his car, a necessity because Natalie refused to let Marguerite go. Tyler had to restrain the urge to physically separate them. While it was obvious that the child might be miraculously unharmed except for a couple scratches, the same could not be said for his angel. Her left hand was tucked around Natalie’s waist, but two of the fingers were swelling, one at an odd angle, suggesting they were broken. Her struggle with her father had torn her shirt, allowing him to see that there was ugly bruising, blood and an alarming bump along the line of the shoulder where she’d taken the brunt of the impact against the building. They’d hit it at a speed that had managed to shatter the tempered glass and shards of it still clung to her side and back. Spots of blood clotted along her bare arm, staining her clothes. He was even more concerned about the matted area just above her left ear that had turned the blonde strands a pale crimson. She’d come down on the awning just as hard and he’d heard her involuntary grunt when she’d bounced over the metal frame. The stiff way she held herself suggested there might be rib damage involved.

He wanted to stay with her, but to keep her and Natalie from having to deal with anything else, he and Mac were drawn into the circle of cops to explain things. When the EMTs arrived, Tyler was relieved to see them immediately directed to Marguerite and her charge.

He kept his peripheral vision on them as he answered questions with brusque impatience. She made them look at Natalie first, of course. As he listened with half an ear to Mac and the other officers, he noted they had to examine her in the protection of Marguerite’s braced legs, because the little girl simply wouldn’t release her. She clung to Marguerite’s pants leg, standing between her knees, silent tears running down her face while Marguerite stroked her.

“Hardly a scratch on you,” the EMT confirmed, ruffling the child’s hair. “And

you’re sure she didn’t experience any head trauma? Not the pavement or the building?”

Marguerite shook her head. The EMT looked up. His gaze covered the torn awning, the bent frame, shifted upward to the shattered fourth-floor window and finally moved all the way to the top of the Bank of Florida building, tilting his head back to do so.

“Christ, that’s the closest thing to an act of God I’ve seen all year, I can tell you that. All right, then. She’ll need to go to the hospital to get a thorough looking-over, but I’m pretty sure all they’re going to find a few bruises. You’re going to be okay, honey.” He gave Natalie a quick stroke as she buried her