Authors: Brooklyn O'Bannon
She stanched the impulse to run her hands down his sculptured chest. Barely.
“Don’t do that, little one.” His face was serious, and his eyes wide. “It has been long since I felt a woman’s touch, and you are beautiful and naked…”
She couldn’t help but look at him again, the sculptured torso, the hard stomach…
the
hard, red knobbed cock that was now pushing out of the small towel covering him.
Suddenly this all seemed too real to be a dream. “Oh.”
“You stroked my wings.” He turned around and again showed her his wings. “You shouldn’t stroke them.” He readjusted his towel.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, feeling mortified. “I didn’t know.”
“No, you couldn’t know. Angel’s wings are very sensitive to the touch.” He paused, still with his back turned. “You should dress. Then we can talk. I am called Rahmiel.”
“I’m Kari,” she said, then fled to her bedroom and threw on a pair of sweats, which promptly slid down her now slender hips.
Nothing would fit. She grinned.
Nothing would fit
.
She finally found a pair of tight leggings, years old, and a soft pink sweatshirt that hung down to mid thigh, like a mini dress.
Even with thick socks, her shoes were too loose. She tied them as tightly as she could. She would have to get some clothes right away. She picked up a pair of extra large black sweat pants. Maybe the Angel could wear them?
She was a little shocked at how matter of fact everything seemed.
Maybe I’m still inshock from the impaler? Or, maybe this is still part of a dream?
Because it certainly wasn’t a normal, everyday occurrence to have an angel in her house.
Or to lose so many pounds in a couple hours.
Or maybe those herbs were stronger than I thought, and I’m still high.
She left her bedroom, expecting to find no angel, convinced this was all some herbal hallucination.
Rahmiel was tidying her living room, setting blown out candles on the coffee table and scrubbing out the chalk marks with his foot.
He’s real.
She handed him the pants, which he promptly pulled on. They fit his large frame like a glove, and ended just below his knees.
“We need to cleanse this area, so he isn’t drawn back here,” he explained.
“The skeleton thing was real?”
“Yes, a famine demon.
Very deadly.
No one has summoned him in years. He would have killed you, you know. Many years ago, he was responsible for entire tribes dying of starvation.”
“But you stopped him.” She saw now that he had a sword at his side, made of glass or crystal. It fit into a
thin jeweled
belt around his waist.
“Yes. Magic tied me to this demon in ancient times, because I once defeated him, and lived. So when you summoned him, I came, too.”
“I guess I summoned the wrong being. I thought it was a spirit that would help me become slim.” She sat down on the couch, suddenly feeling weak. What had she done?
“The bad ones thrive on deception. Let’s clean this room and then we can talk. I will need your help to try to find out where he will go next, Kari.”
Kari joined him in picking up the candles. She got wet
wash cloths
and they scrubbed out the chalk circle and markings. She found the broom and he swept up chunks of ice and herbs, while she followed with the vacuum.
“Where did all this ice come from?” she asked while she wound the vacuum cord up.
“That was from me. I was summoned suddenly, so I came encased in ice.” He grinned, showing white teeth and dimples. “But now we need to talk about where the demon might go next.”
Kari sat down on the recliner, now back in its usual place.
“I don’t know how to help you find that out,” she said.
“Well, he will be weak, so he’ll want easy prey. He has access to your life. When he had you impaled he saw your life, your family and friends. He will want the plump ones first, because he needs quick energy, without much hunting or fighting. Later on he won’t care, because he will have his strength back.”
Kari thought of her mom in a sudden burst of fear. But Mom was on a cruise right now, far away. She wouldn’t have been able to do the ritual if Mom had been here.
Plump women—her Dieter’s Delight meeting! She hadn’t been there for a month, but it was just blocks away. They met every Monday evening.
“I think I know.” She jumped out of the recliner, grabbed her purse, and rushed out the front door. Rahmiel followed.
Kari ran to her car, a tiny purple Geo. Rahmiel looked at her and raised his
eye brows
. There was no way he would fit in her tiny car.
“We’ll fly. You tell me where.”
She found herself circled by his hard arms right under her breasts. He pulled her back against his chest and she stood stiffly in his embrace. Everything seemed unreal—the nightmare, her new body, the gorgeous Angel who’s hard arms surrounded her.
Maybe it was all a dream.
His wings beat the air and they rose effortlessly. Kari couldn’t help but squeal and clutch his arms in panic. The cool evening air, the pull of his wings through the air—it
was
real.
“Relax, little one. I will not drop you.” He crooned into her ear. “Where to?”
I really should tell him to quit with the little one stuff.
But it sounded so nice in his accent.
She pointed toward the Community Church and wondered what time it was.
Perhaps the meeting hadn’t even started and Rahmiel could catch the demon. But she recognized the cars parked outside on the street.
When they walked down the steps toward the lower level meeting room, Kari had an ominous feeling. It was too quiet. There was always chatter or a guest speaker on a microphone. She swallowed hard, her throat tight with apprehension.
They entered the room, Rahmiel first, his sword in hand, glowing with icy light.
“Stay back,” he said in a low voice. His arm came out, preventing her from entering the room, and he backed her toward the stairs. He turned to her, expression grave.
“We’re too late.”
She pushed past him in a panic. Her friends, members of the Dieter’s Delight Club, lay scattered on the floor, tiny and skeletal, their hollow faces stretched into grimaces of horror and pain. Kari recognized Mary Lou’s black velvet tunic. She had just lost fifty pounds, but needed to lose a hundred more. And Lisbet—only thirty pounds from her goal—her engagement ring had slipped off her skeletal finger. But the
two carat
square
cut diamond resting nearby could only be Lisbet’s. Her pretty face was unrecognizable, with her skin stretched over bone and pulled into a grimace of pain and fear.
Kari heard a wailing sound and realized it came from her.
Rahmiel circled the room and then put his sword away. “He is not here.” Then he engulfed her in his arms and there was a rush of bright light and a queasy sensation of swift movement.
Chapter Two
Rahmiel held the crying girl on his lap and made crooning sounds of comfort, while he patted her back and hair.
The deaths were sad, but he was used to death. Causing death, avenging death, investigating death was what Guardian Angels did. Well, former Guardian Angel.
There was no use trying to find Kaphawn tonight. They had no way to track him, and using the girl as bait would have to come at a later time. She was distraught.
Kaphawn had probably already found a hiding place before daylight, using the memories of one of the women he’d killed.
And Rahmiel had plans for the girl.
It had been so long since he had held a woman in his arms. Even longer since he’d held a human woman. He’d spent eight thousand years encased in ice, without personal contact with anyone, as punishment for killing another Guardian. Eight thousand years alone in an ice wasteland, allowed no contact with Angeli or humans.
The Angeli had been merciful, though. He had to give them that. They had given him the ability to watch the Earth, to hear those he focused on. He didn’t sleep, he didn’t move. He was part of the ice world. There was nothing to do in the ice except watch and listen. Year after year he watched the Earth move from day to night and he would watch people wake, work, live and die. At first he sought out family, friends, old lovers. But as time went by the Angeli departed from the Earth and he watched human women and men. He envied them the warmth of the sun, a breeze lifting hair off hot shoulders, a cool drink of water, the taste of a
well cooked
leg of lamb, birds calling at sundown.
Humans were smaller and weaker than Angeli, yet they had their enticing qualities.
Humans became so aroused when touched by an Angeli lover, and the scents of human arousal were intoxicating to Angeli. Rahmiel remembered the exhilarating and arousing perfume of a human woman. Locked in ice, he had craved that aroma, desired the touch and scent of a lover until he thought he would go mad. Now he held a fragrant human girl in his arms. She already smelled delicious. Edible. He could hardly wait to taste her as his lover.
Kari’s hair was glorious, so long, thick and red. Rahmiel slid a hand through her hair, enjoying the glide of silk on his hand. He wanted to see her clothed in nothing but her hair again, those round, pink-tipped breasts peaking out behind the long locks. Was she a virgin? She might be. She was young. That would be so perfect, because then the binding would be unbreakable.
Of course, if she was a virgin, there was the possibility of getting her with child.
Unless she was on that modern stuff…what was it called? Birth control. From what he understood, even virgins went on it, just in case.
He hoped she was on it, a binding would be permanent enough, and he didn’t want the responsibility of fatherhood. Being a Guardian was responsibility enough. He had planned to enjoy children when his time in the Guardians was finished, sometime far in the future but his future now was uncertain. It would not be a good time for a child.
Not that he was a Guardian at present, but if things worked out with Kaphawn, and then with the binding, he should at the very least avoid the dimensional freezer. At least for her lifetime…
She had flawless, milky skin, smooth and glowing with health, to go with all that hair. He gently moved his hands from her hair to her arms, so he could touch her skin.
He moved his hands slowly, drawing his fingers over the soft skin of her arms. Yes, he had been fortunate. An older woman or even a man could have drawn him forth. Few humans who weren’t sorcerers or witches could have pulled off that ritual. Her success must have been a fluke. He buried his face in her hair, enjoying the sweet floral scent of it, the sweet pressure of her bottom on his thighs.
He could hardly wait to have her, to seal the binding, be inside a woman for the first time in eight thousand years.
“Where are we?” she asked after awhile, when her sobs died away.
“Somewhere we cannot be found. Some place safe.”
“Aren’t you going to go find the demon?”