Angel I Am Not.
Avril sighed and laid her blade on the kitchen table.
I marveled at its design, a curved double-edged, black blade with a ruby red hilt, one blade larger than the other and polished to reflection perfection. I shivered. This woman, as bad as I hated to admit it, scared me. She lacked the softness in her eyes that I had always seen in the photos lying around the Gannon house. Maybe being apart from Elora and Sam Gannon had been harder on her than the two of them. Still, I owed this woman no sympathy. Avril had been in the wrong.