Authors: Amber Hughey
An eyebrow lifted and doubt filled her narrowed green eyes. “Really? Well, since I’m not telepathic, looks like I missed that message. All the
more reason why it’s so awesome of me to get this,” she replied with a grin, waving the phone in front of him.
“You’re going to regret it if you don’t give it to me,” he growled playfully, eyes flashing gray.
“Oh, am I?” she taunted him, stepping away from him, towards the living room, shoving the phone in an empty back pocket.
He looked extremely relaxed, wings resting on the floor until he suddenly lunged out of the chair, knocking it, and a side table containing a lamp, to the floor in hot pursuit of her and her phone. With a squeal of surprise, she sped up, not realizing how quick he’d risen to the chase. The chair clattered to the floor, making her look back and lose valuable ground.
He was surprisingly fast, but the small proportions of the room got the better of him, just like the stairwell at Patricia’s apartment. Laughing, she dodged him and most of the furniture, only running into a coffee table and a small stool. Luckily for her, she thought as she dodged him, he was running into the same stuff she was…probably because she was knocking it in his way. Wincing as she heard a crash, she ignored the curses coming from Matt, who had just walked in the door.
She neatly dodged him as she bolted towards the stairs, knowing that his wings would impede him going up the narrow staircase as quickly as she could.
She heard him swear as he realized what she was going to attempt to do. He reached for her, but narrowly missed as she lunged up the first couple stairs, taking two and three at a time. She didn’t want to think about sliding back down the stairs on her stomach if she missed a step. She could hear Lucy barking manically from the base of the stairs. Hearing Gabriel thudding up them made her put an extra hustle into her step as she reached the landing. Her heart raced from the adrenaline, not letting her slow down.
As she rounded the corner that would take her into her bedroom, he bolted towards her. Entering her bedroom, she attempted to close the door with a heavy breath. He thudded on the door, throwing it open with a bang, his dark wings covering the opening as he sent her a feral grin.
“Caught you,” he said in a dark, sing-song voice.
She narrowed her eyes. “That’s what you think,” she said shortly as she bolted for the other side of the double bed. They were at an impasse, she realized. He had the door, but she had the bathroom. She glanced at both, and as she moved closer to the window, he mirrored her motions.
“Is this really worth a few pictures?” she wheedled as she slowly backed up towards the bathroom.
“Oh, do you really think it’s still about the pictures?” he said with a slow, smoldering grin as he slowly advanced, wings spread wide to make himself look more imposing.
A shot of heat curled in her stomach, but she fought it back and forced a brash, cocky smile to her face. “I think that it’s exactly what this is about.”
She made her move, but he followed her, quicker than she expected he would be, considering the bed had been between them. He caught her wrist, her own momentum yanking her back, into his arms. With his other hand, he captured her loose wrist. His large hands easily enveloped both of her wrists, and he trapped them in his left hand.
Using his right hand, he reached in to grab the phone out of the rear pants pocket she’d hastily shoved it in, taking a bit longer than necessary to ease it back out. He met her eyes with his, and she felt the heat rise in her face. His eyes grew dark with the desire that filled them. With a slow predator’s smile, he leaned forward, head dipping down towards hers. His lips brushed her neck, feeling the pulse jump beneath her skin.
She breathed in his scent. He smelled faintly of cinnamon, she realized. She leaned in to his touch, enjoying the caress of his lips against her neck. She moaned softly as he gently nipped her neck. Just enough to entice her senses.
Careful, he told himself, careful. He breathed her scent deeply, enjoying the light vanilla aroma as he kissed her neck. He knew he needed to stop. Needed to leave before things went too far, but he wouldn’t – couldn’t stop now.
Her breath came in faint gasps, whether from the attention or from the race, the results were the same. He left her neck, and moved his lips towards hers and lightly brushed across them in a gentle motion. She arched her back away from the wall, her chest brushing his, enjoying the feel of his body against hers. He pushed his body against hers, pressing his lips more firmly against hers.
His wings were tight to his body from the chase up the stairs, and she had to fight temptation not to run her hand down one. Instead, she tugged her hands free of his, and tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling his face closer and enjoying the silky feel of his hair running through her fingers. He pulled back enough to break the kiss, breaking the connection long enough to look into her green eyes, now mirroring his desire. With a slight hesitation, knowing that he wanted more, he returned to her lips, nibbling her lower lip with his fangs, feeling them scrape gently.
His heart pounded in his ears. Her breaths echoed in his head. He brought his mouth back to hers, desperately. She met him with abandon, rising on her toes to reach him. Finally, he dragged himself
away, restraining himself, knowing that if he pushed her too far, he would regret it. She wrapped her fingers in his curls, drawing him back to her. He relented, pulling her closer, but a sudden sharp bark from Lucy fully ended the spell.
He drew back, phone in hand, breathing like he’d just run a marathon in record time. He knew he couldn’t blame their short chase for the lack of oxygen to his brain. Turning away from her, trying to gather his jumbled thoughts, he glanced down at the phone, already having forgotten that he’d claimed it from her grasp. He looked at her curiously.
He’d never had a human willingly kiss him, especially after finding out about the fangs. Most humans seemed repulsed by them, an admittedly reasonable response. But Amalia…She was different, he thought curiously. Not afraid of the fangs, not disgusted by the wings, not caring that he was so many years older than her.
He stopped and stared, suddenly not seeing her. Seeing the brunette he’d lost, years before. He closed his eyes, banishing the image. The wound that her death made was still open, but not as raw as it had been, even a few months prior. He’d shut himself away for so long, and now this human, this vivacious human was making him feel emotions he hardly remembered. Joy, fear, awe. Emotions that seemed so distant, were brought close by Amalia. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had that much
fun, and it was all because of her. Gabriel swiftly made a decision that he hoped he wouldn’t regret, that she was staying around him, whether she liked it or not. But, he amended, hopefully she wanted to.
Amalia pushed herself off the wall he’d trapped her against. Her heart was pounding in her throat, and she felt disappointment from the interruption rising in her. “Get a grip,” she told herself firmly, and shook her hair out. Almost demurely, she followed him downstairs. She didn’t deign to look at Matt, who looked at both of them like they were stark raving mad as he righted the furniture they’d tore through. Or two bunnies, she thought, giggling to herself.
Well, she thought, maybe she was a little…different, but it was a hell of a way to burn through the energy that she’d stored up while sitting in a car for so long. She laughed to herself as she picked her chair up before sitting down next to Gabriel, who’d righted his chair before sitting down. He seemed to have forgotten their little game of tag. His eyebrows rose as he saw some of the details hidden in the files that he’d wrested away from her.
“Good pictures,” he muttered to himself, trying to calm his racing pulse with controlled breathing. “Thankfully,” as he loaded them onto the laptop. He carefully looked at each picture, reading each page thoroughly before leaning back against his
wings. He relaxed them, and they rested slightly against the floor.
“You expected less?” she said as she looked over his shoulder.
He ignored her teasing jab, and continued reading the files.
“Anything new?” she tried again as she unplugged her phone, grimacing as she correctly assumed that he’d taken them off her phone completely.
“Mostly just what we knew earlier,” he said, shaking his head. “One new thing, though. The doctor who ordered the test was her boyfriend.”
“Huh,” Amalia replied as she leaned back in her own chair, propping the chair up on two legs. “Now that…that’s something strange. And the solan at the stable hadn’t seen him since Patricia disappeared…”
“Yeah…strange,” Gabriel echoed as she turned his laptop towards her.
“So where are all these angelus coming from?” she asked.
“They’re former humans, most of them,” Aleks said.
She stood straight and turned around. She hadn’t been aware that he was there, and she didn’t like not knowing. Something about him poked at her wrong. Rubbed some exposed nerve, and made her damn uneasy. Maybe it was just the way he acted
around her, but something wasn’t right with him. She just needed to figure out what it was…
“Not the one we found in the river,” she countered as she stared at him. His face was closed off, leaving her unable to read it.
He gave a short shake of his head. “No, but the other bodies we’ve found have been.”
“Are they all missing their wings?” she asked.
“Of course,” Aleks said with a finality that she didn’t understand. He gave a disgusted sigh when he realized he had to explain. “They weren’t born angelus. To most solan, if you’re not a born, you’re worth less than nothing. Removing the wings is removing the sign that they’re solan.”
“I thought it was a mark of shame?” she asked, confused.
“It is. When it’s done to an angelus,” he said, unconcerned.
“They are angelus,” she protested.
He gave her a disgusted look. “No, they’re humans that have been turned into angelus. They’re still human.”
“And I thought humans were racist,” she muttered, not wanting to argue with Aleks. Knowing that she couldn’t win that argument.
She gave him a disgusted look of her own when she felt a hand on her wrist.
Gabriel drew her gaze to him. “Not all of us think like that,” he quietly stated, ignoring the look of
disdain that Aleks gave him. Somehow, somewhere, he thought, he’d lost some respect for Aleks. He couldn’t remember when, or where, but it had happened. He watched Aleks stalk out of the room, unaffected by Amalia’s reaction. Almost as if he’d meant to provoke her.
“Thank you,” she told him. She leaned down and brushed her lips against his. Savouring the feel of his lips against hers, she jumped when she felt her phone vibrate. Staring at it, she didn’t recognize the number. She narrowed her eyes as she accepted the call.
“Hello?” she said cautiously.
“Is this Amalia?” The voice was smooth, a generic Southern accent colored the deep baritone voice.
“May I ask who’s calling?” She was put on the defensive by something she couldn’t understand. Something pricked her temper, and made her mistrust the person on the other end.
“I’m sorry, but I need to speak to Amalia.”
“You have the wrong number,” she said sweetly, pulling the phone away from her face to hang up.
“Listen to me. Now,” the voice turned from smooth to rough, demanding. “You’re in danger. Do you understand?”
Her nerves pinged, and her temper soared before she quickly reined it in. She hit the
speakerphone button and turned the volume all the way up. “Of course,” she said.
“You will find the information you require at a house.” The voice was snide, arrogant even.
“Of course,” she replied, keeping the confusion out of her voice. “But what house?”
With that, her phone went silent. Several seconds later, her phone vibrated again. A text this time, from the same unknown caller. Opening it, she read the message out loud.
“487 Clearwater Road. Birch Hollow. Nine hundred.” She looked at Gabriel and saw contempt in his eyes.
“You’re going?” Aleks asked as he walked in the room, he asked, contempt for her still written in his mocha eyes.
She shook her head, but she was already considering the possibilities. She turned to Gabriel, lips pursed in thought. “Who knows about this case? About Sam going missing?”
“Not too many,” he said slowly, as he stood, considering her question. “There’s just a handful of Enforcers who are aware of the case. Matt’s the only Chaser involved. Anyone else would have to be involved either from the human side, or one of the guys we’re trying to stop.”
She tipped her head back and stared at him. “You’re sure?”
He scoffed at her, “yeah, I’m sure.”
She nodded. “Then we have a rat.”
He ran a hand through his hair before raising an eyebrow at her. “A rat? As in?”
“As in someone on the inside. A mole?”
“A mole. You mean one of the good guys is a bad guy,” he stated, starting to grow a bit angry at her presumption. She didn’t understand how the angelus side of law enforcement works, but it wasn’t her fault. He fought to keep his temper reined.