Grounded: Michaela Read online

  Grounded

  By

  Leanne Karella

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Grounded: Michaela by Leanne Karella

  Prologue

  The Triumvirate of Heaven's most revered archangels had been convened.

  This was not a good thing.

  Gabriel looked across the table toward Raphael, the healer, and saw the same concern in his eyes that filled his own soul. Michael, the judge, sat at the head of the table, his brow pulled into a tight frown.

  "What say you, Gabe?" Michael asked. "After all these two have done, will you still allow them to meddle in mortal life?"

  Gabriel hated being put on the spot. Especially by Michael. "I see no reason to follow through with His suggestion. That's all it was, a suggestion. You cannot believe that forcing them into mortal form will solve this problem."

  "Ah, the Angel of Mercy would give forgiveness once again." Michael tapped his finger on the gleaming white table. "Not this time, my friend. These two must be punished for their behavior."

  "Perhaps," Raphael spoke up tentatively, "this would work. If they see how difficult mortal life is, they would understand that their pranks are only causing harm to the poor creatures."

  "Michaela has done nothing wrong," Gabriel said with a shake of his head. Oh, how he hated to see that sweet angel sent to earth without her wings. "She is quiet. A follower. She simply picked the wrong angel to follow. It is Electra that must be punished, if there is any punishment to be had."

  "They go together." Michael's words were final. Harsh.

  "And what will they do?" Gabriel asked. "They know nothing of mortal life. They have never experienced fear or hunger or pain. They would not survive. And Michaela hasn't spent any time observing mortals. She knows nothing about them except what she's studied in the texts."

  A flicker of a smile lit Michael's lips. "We shall give them a book. One that will tell them all they need to know to survive as mortals."

  Gabriel shook his head again. "This is lunacy. Only angels who've made a conscious choice to become human have ever done it. Those that have lived among them, cared for them. Michaela and Electra are so young. Young and foolish. Do not do this to them."

  "They have been here for two millennia. Is it not time they grew up?" Michael folded his hands together on the table. "They should have received their papers by now, yet they dawdle."

  "You cannot give them free will," Gabriel argued. "They would only get into more trouble than they're already in."

  Raphael spoke up once again. "They are already exhibiting free will. That is why He suggested they be sent to earth. To see what free will can do to the mortals. Without free will, they are safe, sheltered."

  "No. I cannot go along with this. I cannot see them suffer so."

  Michael rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "The decision has been made. He has already agreed to it."

  Gabriel's lips parted in astonishment. "Then why did you call the Triumvirate if the decision has already been made?"

  "You were called here to…" Michael didn't look so high and mighty now. "Because He wants these angels given a task. That is your job. You two must come up with something for them to do."

  "I have just the thing," Raphael said, his face lighting with a smile. "There is this small town in North America. I believe its called Unegi. I have a man there in desperate need of salvation."

  "These women cannot save someone. We're sending them there to save themselves."

  Raphael scowled at Michael. "I have faith in Michaela. She would be perfect for this man. His soul is dark, he's hurting. With her sweetness, she's sure to melt his hardened heart."

  "And the other one? The troublemaker?" Michael asked.

  Raphael tapped his finger on his chin. "What if we had her go somewhere where she saw true human suffering? So that she'd see life at its worst."

  "They need to stay together," Gabriel added. "If you separate them…" He shook his head once again. "I hate to think how bad it could become if they were truly alone down there."

  Raphael was thoughtful for several long moments. "I have it," he finally said. "There is a small medical clinic in this Unegi. It would be perfect. Where do you see human suffering more than those that are weak, ill or injured?"

  Gabriel nodded, liking this idea. "I think this might work."

  "Fine, fine," Michael said with a wave of his hand. "Set things up for them. Make sure they have the book of information."

  "By the way," Gabriel said, "how long is their stay?"

  Michael raised an eyebrow at Gabriel. "For the rest of their mortal life, of course."

  "You mean," Raphael asked in horror, "they've been Grounded?"

  Chapter One

  "There it is," Electra said as she pointed down the long, hot road toward several buildings.

  Michaela nodded and flipped through the book. They'd been walking for what felt like forever. So far, she'd learned several things. First, mortal form was extremely uncomfortable. She felt…heavy. In the book, it said that gravity keeps the mortals attached to the earth. Gravity. Founded by some guy named Newton. Newton shouldn't have done that. It was much easier to float.

  "I can't believe they did this to us, can you?" Electra whined. She'd been whining a lot since they landed. Archangel Gabriel had come with them and tried to help them through the transition into their mortal bodies. Electra had simply whined the whole while, begging to be given one more chance.

  Michaela shrugged. This was their punishment. The next fifty or so earth years. They'd need to make the best of it. Besides, it could be exciting. She'd always wondered what it would be like to be a mortal. She wanted to experience emotions. How many times had she watched them cry or laugh? She wanted to feel whatever it was they felt. Electra's whining was obviously caused by emotion. She'd never done that before.

  Gabriel had warned them about hunger and pain. Hunger. She flipped through the book. Ah, here it is. An urgent need for food. Michaela frowned. "What do you think food is?"

  "How should I know what food is? Would you look at this?" Electra stopped walking and dropped the two small bags Gabriel had given them. Each bag had one of their names written in gold on the handles. He said it contained everything they'd need. He warned that the mortals would want identification to prove who they were.

  Identification. She flipped a few pages. The evidence of identity. She wrinkled her brow. Evidence?

  "I want my robe back. These…clothes are tight and they scratch my skin. My goodness. I have skin." Electra ran her hand up her arm. "It's very soft. I never would have imagined."

  Michaela looked down at her body. During angel training, what seemed like an eon ago, they learned a bit about the mortal body. From what she could tell, she was a woman. She had the protrusions from the chest that would indicate mammary glands. Electra had them too.

  She didn't understand the clothing, though. Where Electra's clothes looked rather confusing, several pieces put together to look like one, hers were just two pieces. A white top that was fairly loose and felt nice when there was a breeze. On the bottom—she wrinkled her nose—her bottom was hot. The clothing was tight. Dark blue. And ran from her waist to her ankles. On her feet were some strange pointy-toed boots. Electra had pointy-toed shoes, but they made her taller. And she said they hurt. The bottom of Electra's clothing ended above the knees, which should ha
ve made her cooler, but then she had something over the shirt that covered her from neck to wrist.

  "Do you think they really wear this stuff?" Michaela asked as she picked up her small bag and deposited the book inside.

  Electra folded her arms over her chest. "I think they're playing a prank on us. I think that any minute now, Gabe is going to appear and ask us if we've learned our lesson. I say we just wait." She plopped down on top of her bag. "Besides. This pain thing is ridiculous. We shouldn't have to suffer this much just because we thought it would be funny to get those two people lost in the mountains."

  "You thought it would be funny," Michaela corrected. She sat down on her bag, too. Ahh, that felt better. She didn't feel quite so weighted down when she sat. "I told you to leave them alone. You never listen. So here we are. And you are just going to have to make the best of it, just as I have to."

  "Bah! Make the best of this?" Electra waved at her body. "Look at these things. Why would Gabe give us these?" She grabbed the mammary glands and lifted them. They did look rather odd. "And another thing, if they were going to stick us here, they could have at least left us with some of our gifts."

  "Mortals don't have gifts. They just…live."

  "How ridiculous."

  Michaela stood up and opened her bag. Besides the book, there were some papers that had 100 printed on them. She bypassed those and lifted out the other things. A little card that was coated in clear stuff. There was a picture on it. It said Michaela Smith. It also had some other numbers. Across the top it said Arizona. That's where they were, Gabe had told them. In a place called Unegi, Arizona. This must be the identification he'd talked about. There were other papers with numbers and such on them, all that said Michaela Smith.

  "Do you have these in your bag?" Michaela asked Electra.

  With a deep sigh, Electra stood up and opened her bag. She pulled out the clear-coated card. "Yes. I do. What is Smith, do you think?"

  Michaela shrugged. She took the card from Electra, looked at her face, then at her own card. "We look exactly alike."

  Electra peeked over her shoulder to look at the cards. "Except your hair is all curly and black, where mine is straight and yellow."

  "And our eyes. Mine are green, yours are blue."

  Michaela touched her hair. It was soft and springy. Her lips curled up. A smile? She let it grow and a soft feeling invaded her chest. That must be a smile. She never would have guessed it would make her feel all fuzzy inside.

  A loud noise cut through the silence of the heat. Turning, they both looked down the road. An automobile. She'd seen them in books many times. It was noisy. White and brown on the side, and there were colorful lights on top. Just a few feet from them, it came to a stop and the noise cut off. The door opened and a man stepped out. He was large. Much larger than she and Electra. Michaela would have never guessed that humans were so big. He wore all brown clothing and had a huge black belt around his middle that held an assortment of…stuff. A gun! She recognized a gun. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. They'd been warned about guns.

  "Can I help you two ladies?"

  Oh no. And then, to Michaela's astonishment, the whole colorful world went black.

  * * * *

  Ty Brock sat on the deep verandah of his ramshackle ranch house, a beer in one hand, a letter from the state parole board in the other.

  He took a deep swallow of the brew and sighed. It'd been three years since he'd had a beer. Damn, it tasted good.

  Scanning over the letter for about the tenth time in so many minutes, he expected a feeling of elation, of contentment. The feeling didn't come. He was a free man. He'd served his time— two years in county jail and another year reporting twice a week to a probation officer. So why didn't he feel free?

  Stryker, his oversized mutt, plopped down at his feet and groaned.

  "I know how you feel, bud." Ty placed his booted foot on Stryker's side and rubbed him. The dog moaned with pleasure and rolled to his back. Ty sighed.

  Nothing had changed. He might be legally free, but nothing had changed. He was still an ex-con with a gambling problem. A piece of paper from the state didn't change that. Leaning back in the Adirondack chair, he stared out over his small herd of cattle. A horse whinnied from within the barn. The scent of freshly cut alfalfa floated on the evening breeze.

  He breathed deeply, taking in the scents of his ranch. There wasn't much left of it, not after he'd finished paying off his gambling debts and lawyer. But what he had was all his. And someday, if he worked hard enough, it'd be bigger and better than what he had before all the trouble started. Time was all he needed.

  Time, and a ranch hand to help him out. He'd placed the ad nearly a month ago but so far, no takers. No one wanted to work for a used up, dried up ex-rodeo star who'd done time for cattle thieving.

  Stryker jumped to his feet, leapt off the porch, and set up a snarling bark. Ty leaned forward in the chair to look down the long drive. Sure enough, a car was approaching. He slowly got to his feet. The last thing he wanted right now was a visitor. He tipped back the beer bottle and drained it, then folded the letter from the parole board and tucked it into his hip pocket.

  As the car grew closer, a tail of dust blew over the hay field from the road. It was the sheriff's cruiser. "Damn it all to hell," he muttered as he stepped off the porch.

  Trent Godfrey, Unegi's one and only lawman. A man who had once been his best friend. The man who'd arrested him and sent him to jail. Though he didn't hold the last against the sheriff. He'd only been doing his job. For years their relationship had been nonexistent, but ever since his release, Trent had tried to reestablish their friendship. This was probably another in-person request to join him and his family for a barbeque or something.

  The cruiser stopped a few feet short of Ty. Trent turned to his passenger and said something before he shut off the engine. The passenger, a woman, peeked out the windshield then nodded. The woman wasn't Trent's wife, Lina. Lina had long golden hair and striking gray eyes. All he could see of this woman was a head full of black curls.

  Trent opened the door and got out. Stryker's hackles went on end and he growled low in his throat, but never left Ty's side. "Hush, you beast," Ty quietly commanded.

  Stryker dropped to his haunches but the low rumble continued.

  "Hey, Ty." Trent came forward and held out his hand.

  Ty shook his hand. "Trent."

  Trent's gaze went unerringly to the beer bottle sitting on the porch rail. Ty's temper rose a notch. "Got my letter from the parole board today. I can drink now."

  Trent nodded. "Good to hear it."

  Damned if he didn't sound sincere. How could he stay ticked at someone who was simply looking out for him?

  "So, to what do I owe this visit?"

  Trent ran a hand through his dark hair. "Well, now, that's the odd thing." He glanced back at the car. "Got a woman who's looking for you. She and her sister were sitting on the side of the road this morning just outside of town. The sister—I'm pretty sure they're twins—says she wanted to go to the clinic. She said that Stephen was looking for someone to work in the office. And this one, her name's Michaela, said she needed to find you."

  Stryker let out a barking snarl. Ty nudged him with his knee. The dog had no manners whatsoever. "Why would some chick be looking for me?"

  Trent cast an uneasy glance at the cruiser. "I don't know. This one passed out. I think it might be from the heat. The other one, her name's Electra, said they'd been out there a long time." Trent stepped a bit closer, dropping his voice. "She's a little odd. They both are. I'm going to run them through the computer when I get back. I don't think they're dangerous, they just seem a bit…off."

  Ty glanced at the car, his interest piqued. "How off?" He really couldn't see anything but pale skin and black hair.

  "She refused to see a doctor. And…this is the weirdest thing. She has this white book she keeps reading. If I ask her a question, she opens the book and reads something before she answer
s. I've asked her where they're from, she says far away. I ask her what business she has with you, she says she's here to help. I asked her if she has family, she shrugged like she didn't know."

  "Did you talk to Stephen about the other one?"

  "He's dealing with a case of summer flu, and the clinic was packed. He didn't even stop to ask questions, just sat her down at the reception desk and put her to work. This one refused to see him, even though she'd passed out. She just insisted on seeing you. Made it sound like it was a matter of life and death, though she didn't say as much. So I brought her out. Thought maybe you knew her."

  Ty shrugged. "So, let her out of the car and let's see what she wants."

  Trent headed for the passenger door. "Better keep that mutt of yours under control. She's an itty bitty thing, probably doesn't weigh any more than the dog."

  Ty placed his hand on Stryker's collar to hold him in place. Trent opened the passenger door, and the woman stepped out. She wasn't that small, perhaps five-foot-two or so. She wore skintight jeans that showed off nicely shaped hips and long legs. A white blouse pulled tight across ample breasts.

  Ty's interest was more than piqued. As he studied her face, stunning was the only word he could think of. Her skin was milky white, her eyes a brilliant green. And that hair. My God, there was a lot of it. An endless amount of thick curls fell over her shoulders and down her back. As for her age? He had no idea. She had one of those perfect faces that could be anywhere from eighteen to thirty-five. Not a wrinkle in sight but she didn't look like a youngster either.

  He racked his brain, trying to remember ever seeing anyone like this before. He'd spent years on the road with the rodeo, and he'd had his share of women, more than his share really. But he was positive if he'd ever met this one, he'd remember her.

  "Ty Brock?" she asked, running his first and last name together as if it were one word. Her voice was soft, almost musical. A shiver ran down his back.