Lucca (4 page)

“I know the biological makings of a bonded
were-creature. What does that have to do with the Fallen?”

“In a sense, we function like a
shifter.”

He harrumphed with obvious annoyance. “You
compare us to werewolves and such? We do not have the capability to
shift to a lower being.”

Gideon chuckled then covered his amusement
with a cough.

Most likely his lethal glare did the trick
of shutting his trap. “You find this humorous?”

“Yeah. Haven’t you always said humans were
inferior beings? My friend, we shift from angelic beings to the
so-called inferior human. We’re shifters.”

Gideon’s smug look boiled his blood to the
point that he found his hands balled into fists. One more word and
he would punch the arrogant slant of Gideon’s mouth right off his
face. “Shifters,” he spat and hissed, baring his fangs.

“I do prove my point, or do you believe
exposing your fangs makes you civilized
.
?”
He grinned even more, letting his fangs lengthen, too.

Through history, humans had mistaken the
Fallen as vampires who could fly. Looking at Gideon’s fanged mug,
made him realize why they came up with such a ludicrous idea.

He drew in a deep breath, letting the anger
go as Gideon’s words truly sunk in. Eli found his mate by her
scent. If it were true, that would mean… His gaze wavered down the
block where he could still make out the light illuminating inside
the Laundromat and spilling out onto the sidewalk. He shook his
head. “No.” He refused to believe he’d fallen so low as to lust
after a human.”
She’s your mate.
His pesky subconscious
mocked him. “No, she’s not.”

“What did you say?” Gideon’s brows
furrowed.

“Nothing.” He turned away. “Will you piss
off, Gideon. I’m off for home.” He cringed at the word home. He
never believed he would think of a place on the human realm as
home, but there it was:
life as a human
. It sounded like a
bad sitcom.

“Fine, I’ll call on you tomorrow.”

Lucca waved his hand over his head in
farewell, but then remembered something important. “Gideon?” The
Watcher turned to look at him in question. “When you happened upon
me at World’s End, did you see anyone else with Kordon?”

Gideon’s ruddy eyebrows drew together over
the bridge of his nose. “Do you mean besides his goons?”

Lucca nodded.

“No. Why?” Gideon looked at him with
concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need me to heal you?” He
took a step forward and Lucca immediately stepped back, holding up
his hands.

“I’m fine. I don’t need your hands on
me.”

Gideon shook his head. “You know, you’re a
stubborn sod. Heal like a human then. Maybe it’ll do you some
good.” The glamour clogged the air and Gideon went off to do
whatever the Nephilim did on the human realm.

Heal like a human, he says. His fingers
gingerly touched his scalp where a lump had already formed. This
beating was nothing compared to others he’d endured.

He shoved his hands in his pockets as he
strode toward his apartment. What did Gideon do on this realm
besides pester him? He’d make a conscious choice to find out.
Gideon may be his only friend and only contact with what transpired
in the Otherworldly realm. He could prove useful in finding out the
elders’ progress with soul mates.

Chapter Five

Juliet frowned as she folded the clothes and
placed them in the laundry basket. Who were those two men? Her
senses honed in immediately that the auburn haired male was one of
the Watchers, one of the Nephilim. His glamour poured over him in
spades, but the other one… At first she thought he was one too, but
his aura didn’t burn like the Nephilim’s would. God, her heart had
stilled as her gaze slid over him in appreciation: Tall, broad
shouldered and looking like he walked off the pages of a medieval
romance novel. His brooding good looks and overbearing attitude
only added to the fantasy. The only thing missing was his
broadsword.

His friend, the Watcher stood just as
forceful, but with his spiked auburn hair and dangling earring, he
looked more like a modern day rebel. Strange combination. The rebel
claimed his friend was taking medication, but she’d swear the
warrior’s eyes were lucid. They were the color of a stormy winter
sky, a bluish-gray that seemed to burn right into her. It was if he
wanted to ravish her on the spot. Forget they were in a Laundromat
and there were witnesses. It was like he didn’t see anyone but
her.

She smoothed a wayward hair away from her
face as she remembered how her body had tingled all over with
awareness from that look. What would have happened if he touched
her?

In truth, she’d reached for her Glock, but
faltered when the man’s gaze locked with hers again with a powerful
slam of something hot, steamy, and full of promises. Maybe she
should have grabbed for her protection amulet around her neck. It
was one of King Solomon’s seals with ancient symbols against evil
and harm. Raziel had given it to her. It was one of many gifts and
came in handy on a few occasions. However, she didn’t sense evil in
the man who felt inclined to sniff her hair, only ... lust. No,
that wasn’t all of it. It was recognition as if he had been
searching for her all his life and his quest had finally ended.
“I’m going crazy.”

“Did say you something, Auntie Jules?”

Juliet glanced over at Owen who sat on the
chairs reading the latest graphic novel he picked up at the comic
book store yesterday. “No, just thinking out loud.”

Owen’s lips slipped into an easy smile
before he went back to his book. Every so often he wiped his nose
with the Kleenex he had clutched in his hand.

The laundry soap and fabric softener
fragranced the air, but the warrior-looking man had come in
demanding she reveal the perfume she wore as if the scent was what
drove him to distraction. She raised her forearm to her nose and
took a hesitant sniff then a deeper one, feeling ridiculous as she
did so. She smelled like her Dove soap, nothing out of the
ordinary. The guy had to have a few screws loose. She reached for
Owen’s T-shirt to fold next. She should have asked for their names,
but the truth was she’d been a little in awe herself. Maybe not by
the man’s scent, though when he stepped closer, his earthy allure
did catch her attention.

She picked up the last item and quickly
folded the pair of jeans and placed it in the full laundry basket.
She glanced at her watch and grimaced. Time had ticked away and she
still needed groceries. Maybe she’d just hit the mini-mart down the
block from where they lived and pick up a few items to hold her
over until tomorrow.

She hoisted the basket up, taking most of
the weight on one hip. “Ready to go, kiddo?” She looked at
Owen.

“Boy, am I.” He grabbed his backpack and
slipped his graphic novel inside before putting his arms through
the straps. “Auntie Jules?”

“Hmm?”

“Who was the man who sniffed your hair?” He
rubbed his nose with the back of his hand.

A good question and she wished she had a
good answer. “I don’t know.” They headed for the door and Owen held
it open for her.

“He looked like he really liked you. I
thought he was going to kiss you right there and then.”

She choked back a chuckle. Kissing her
seemed more of an afterthought to the guy. When the man’s gaze
finally lingered on her lips, for about half a second, she thought
he’d indulge, but then he backed away. She’d been disappointed. It
was an odd feeling to have when she didn’t even know the man.

Owen looked up at her thoughtfully as they
walked to the car. “Why don’t you date?”

She fumbled with her car keys, but managed
not to drop them. “I don’t need to date. I have you.”

Owen shook his head, not buying her
explanation. “Dylan’s mother goes on dates. She says she
needs
it
now and again.” His gaze met hers. “What do you suppose she
means by needing it?”

“Uh…” She had a good idea, but Owen was a
little too young to hear about it. “She probably means grown up
talk.” She opened the car door to the backseat and waited for Owen
to file in and put on his seatbelt. “Listen, kiddo, if I find the
right guy, I might go on a date one day, but I’m in no hurry.”

“You don’t need it?” He gave her a direct
look. Worry shadowed his gaze.

She smiled and patted his leg. “I’m fine.”
Need it? She’d be lying if she hadn’t said she fantasized about
sex.
Fantasized
being the appropriate word. Ten years ago,
before she became the guardian for a Nephilim child, she hoped to
marry, but her betroth had died, like so many, of the black
disease. Now, in this century, sex didn’t necessarily mean marriage
came with the bonding. With all of Raziel’s knowledge, she couldn’t
change her upbringing. Casual sex wasn’t what she wanted. To sleep
with a man, she’d have to love him, trust him with her life and
with Owens. No, dating wasn’t an option for her. Therefore, sex was
out of the question, too.

As she slid into the driver’s seat, her cell
rang. Her hand fished into her purse. Her hand brushed over the
dagger Raziel had given her for protection against Angels and the
Nephilim included. The power radiating from the weapon was like a
live wire flowing with electricity. Humans saw the dagger as an
intricate carved stick. Preternatural beings would see its true
self, recognizing the danger. Finally her fingers clasped the
Bluetooth. She attached the device onto her ear. “Hello.” She
started the car. She glanced in her mirrors before easing onto the
road.

“Hey, my gal.” It was Leroy Fennings, a dear
friend, a Watcher who ran a café in Orange. He was also her
mentor.

Raziel knew magic, real magic from the
elements, not an over the counter version of hocus-pocus. The
Archangel touched her, opened her to the otherworld, but she still
had a lot to learn. Leroy was teaching her to control the magic,
master it so it didn’t master her.

“What’s up, Leroy?”

“Oh, the usual. How’s the new place?”

“It’s perfect. Thanks for putting a good
word in with the landlord.”

“Not a problem. Have you met the neighbors
yet?”

Most of the Watchers didn’t believe in
forging friendships, but Leroy had lived on the Earth’s realm for
some time now. He also liked to play matchmaker with his patrons.
She so far had stayed under his radar, but she had a hunch it
wasn’t going to last. He’d been eyeing her and asking questions to
find out her likes and dislikes. He thought he was doing it on the
sly and she let him believe it. “Not yet. We’re staying at the
place for the first night tonight.”

“Good, good.” There was a long pause before
he spoke again. “Are you free tomorrow morning
.
? I’d like you to stop by. I have someone you should
meet.”

Her lips curved. “Who’s this somebody? Male
or female? You know how I feel about meeting new people. No blind
dates for me.” The light turned red and she slowed to a stop. The
engine purred softly as it idled.

He chuckled. “He’s male and you’ll like him.
Besides, you’re too pretty a lass to be by yourself, but I promise
I won’t push. Fate has a way of finding you no matter where you
hide.”

“Fate would have to be a great sleuth then,
now wouldn’t she?” Leroy was clairvoyant, sensitive to the future
and what it held. It wasn’t always spot on, due to human choices
and unforeseen interferences. Every being’s path had three
outcomes, depending on those choices.

She tried not to think about it too much.
Alternate universes and changing destinies seemed too science
fiction to her, but then Leroy spoke of her future. Had he found
her intended soul mate? She crinkled her nose at the thought. She
couldn’t risk a relationship. Leroy knew this and still the Watcher
insisted she take the herb to ward off unwanted pregnancies from
preternatural beings. She tried to give it back, but he told her it
was in case one of the Nephilim caught her eye. Her sister may have
fancied Angels, but it didn’t mean her taste ran in the same
direction. She’d taken the herbs anyway, tucking them in her sock
drawer for safe keeping. “Does nine work for you?” she asked. The
light changed and she lifted her foot off the brake.

“Good as rain.”

Leroy used the phrase as if saying yes
didn’t quite cut it for him. “You mean
right as rain
.”

“So you say, but good as rain suits me
better.”

She chuckled. “All right, Leroy. I’ll see
you tomorrow then.”

Chapter Six

Lucca knew he should stay home and order in,
but he wanted chocolate chip cookies. He craved an indulgence after
a good fight. It used to be a smoke and a brandy, but once he
tasted his first chunky-chocolate chip cookie, nothing could come
close to the bit of heaven it supplied.

The mini-mart down the street carried his
favorite brand. After washing away the grunge the Hashasheen demons
left on him, he brushed the long stands of hair away from his face,
tying his bangs off with a leather strip, but leaving the back
portion of his hair free.

His ribs were still sore and there were a
few scrapes on his face along with a bruised cheekbone, but
presentable without raising too many eyebrows.

He grunted in annoyance as he frowned at his
reflection. The woman, who owned the mini-mart, feared him. Her
hands shook when she handed him his change, as if she worried he
would grab her arm and rip it from its socket. Heck, some of the
questionable sorts who might have gang ties didn’t make her quake
as he did.

He was pretty sure it was his size that
intimidated her. He towered over most and from centuries of
wielding a broad sword, his arms were big as tree trunks—or so some
female told him a few years back, as her fingers caressed his
biceps. Hmm…she hadn’t feared him, but her annoying attempts to
seduce him became tedious. When he didn’t respond to her attempts,
she eventually grew weary and turned to some other poor soul.
Good riddance
, he had thought at the time. He had no need
for a human female’s attention.