ANGEL'S KISS (A Dark Angel's Novel) (17 page)

The old wooden swing looked inviting, so I curled up on the cushion and held my knees to my chest. I was mad at everyone and everything. How was I supposed to understand this craziness? What was so funny, anyway? In all the movies and books I’ve read, vampires can’t come out during the day. Why were the rules different for these vampires? When would someone tell me some facts I could use?

But, I couldn’t deny B’s stories any more. I believed. I had no choice—I’d seen it with my own eyes. That man had wanted my blood. More than that, he’d wanted my life, the special spark that makes us who we are.

My mind tried to wrap around my new existence. I felt like an amnesia patient who’d woken up after being in a coma for years and didn’t recognize the new reality.

Sweat broke out on my forehead as a cold chill seeped into my bones. I began to shake. I’d go into shock if I wasn’t careful. I held myself tighter.

I would not have another meltdown. I looked at my feet, hoping to see ruby slippers that I could click together. All I saw were my new running shoes covered in dirt and blood. I got up and started to go… where could I go? I just stared out at the bay, hoping for answers.

Ben’s voice broke through my haze. He was reporting to B. I’m sure I’d hear her say “I told you so” soon.

I needed a distraction. I decided to review the damage to the house, so I walked down the big brick stairway and around the house to check it out.

Damn, the sunroom had been my favorite space in the house. Now it looked as if a wrecking ball had swung through the wall. All that was left was a gaping hole littered with glass, splinters, and blood. Even the brick foundation was damaged. Mangled and broken furniture was strewn everywhere. The beautiful wood cabinets were smashed. They’d been hand made by Big Daddy Seraiah and were irreplaceable.

The sight knocked the wind out of me. The devastation to the room I loved saddened me, even more so as I realized that I had helped cause it. How could I have survived? And how could two people have caused so much damage?

Tears filled my eyes and threatened to spill over, but when I heard Ben’s footsteps coming through the house, I reined in my emotions. The last thing I needed was another public display of female hysteria.

“Well, you certainly did make a mess. We’ll have to work on your style.” Even though he sounded pissy, he smiled warmly.

“How can I explain this to Alan, or the police, or the insurance company?” I felt deflated.

“Go in and get yourself cleaned up. I’ll take care of it.”

“But...”

“Trust me. You know, you worry too much.” And there was that brilliant smile that said everything would be fine. He didn’t even seem shocked by the destruction.

His smile emphasized his eyes; the depth of the color was like the emerald water of the Gulf. He snapped his fingers and I realized I’d been staring. He laughed and shooed me away.

“Get going! We need to get this done and be out of here before someone else decides to take a bite out of you.” He snapped his teeth in the air and chuckled.

“Okay. You say you can fix the house. I don’t know how, but I’m willing to let that go. Fine. But how can I explain all these…” I looked down to point out all the cuts on my arms and hands.

They were gone. I turned my hands over, checking to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. Not even a scar remained on my right palm to remind me of the pain.

“Ben,” my voice was shaky. He was at my side, holding me before I had time to look up.

“Alex, you remember. Your grandmother told you. You’ll heal faster than a normal human. You witnessed her healing this morning.”

Ben’s arms were around my shoulders, and it was so easy to burrow into his chest and wallow in my own self-pity and confusion. So easy to lean into him and let him take care of me, protect me, and hold me. His arms slid down my back, and his warm breath fluffed my hair.

After a moment, a low growl vibrated through the trees. I’d bet money it was Zeke. The sound sparked a memory. That’s the growl I’d heard before I passed out on the roof top during the first attack. I decided not to question how a dog his size could have gotten up on that roof, not today anyway.

I sighed, enjoying the feel of Ben’s arms around me and knowing it needed to end. I pulled away, thankful that Zeke had once again saved my ass.

Ben looked down into my eyes. “Are you okay?” He searched my face for any trace of the hysteria that had been there only moments before. But to tell the truth, I just didn’t have the stamina to keep freaking out.

“Yeah, the healing thing is kinda cool, but why is it so much faster now? I’ve never healed like this.”

“As your mind comes to grips with this new reality, it will open up to all that you can do. Basically, you’ve been pretty lazy up until now. You’ll have to learn how far you can push yourself.” He released my arms and gave me a little shove toward the walkway. “Now go on in and get cleaned up so I can fix this before anyone comes home. And bring back all your dirty clothes and shoes. We don’t want anyone to see all that blood and then wonder why you’re not hurt.”

“How can we get rid of the blood on the ground and, you know, the body?” How could that sentence have come out of my mouth? How could I—how did I get to this point?

“Why don’t you let me worry about that now?” His deep voice was calming. He was wavering on which way to go—get the work done or comfort me; I could see it in his eyes.

“Okay,” I answered numbly. He took a breath and rolled up his sleeves, exposing his huge muscles. I could just see the faint edges of a tattoo on his upper arm. I almost tripped on the brick walkway. Man, I had to get a hold of myself!

I tore my gaze away and looked at the destruction again. How could he fix that gaping hole and wrecked room with just his bare hands?

“Don’t be alarmed if you hear a loud crash, and stay away from the back of the house until I call for you. Got it?”

I nodded my head and then said “got it” more to myself than to him. I hurried into the house and upstairs. The shower started out cold, always good for clearing out the cobwebs in my mind. I was a mess. My nails were caked with dirt and blood and there was grass in my hair. Thankfully, I keep a nail brush in the shower for days when I work in the garden. I washed my hair carefully to rinse out the tiny bits of glass and watched as they sparkled on the floor of the shower and flowed down the drain. When the water finally warmed up, my muscles loosened up some, but I hopped out before I could completely relax. I was anxiously awaiting a crash and didn’t have time to lollygag in the shower.

Just as I stepped out of the water, the house shook with that promised crash. I hastily dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, grabbed my phone and dirty clothes, and headed to the stairs with wet hair and bare feet. No point in getting dressed up now. I doubted if I’d make it to the office, anyway. Crap, I didn’t even know what time it was. I needed to call in and check up on everyone.

Ben caught my arm as I dashed through the kitchen and headed to the sun porch. “Give me your clothes,” he ordered.

I handed them over and watched as he threw them through the doorway. The smell caught me before I noticed the flames. “What the hell have you done? Why did you start a fire?” I dashed toward the sun room to do something—what, I didn’t know—to put out the fire. But he easily restrained me before I could get close to the flames.

“We need to burn the blood evidence. Besides, if lightning had struck the tree that crashed into the house, a fire would be a natural occurrence. It won’t take the house, just the sun room and all the evidence. You’ll have a perfect insurance claim.” He turned me away from the doorway and pulled me back a little. “This is a block structure with a wood facade. Don’t worry, this isn’t my first fire.”

He smiled down at my shocked face. “I need to get the Hummer back to the compound, and you need to call in the fire. Can you handle this?” His big hands still encased my arms.

“Yeah, I can handle it. It’s just that, well, the sun room was my favorite room. It reminded me of my mom.”

Why was I sharing so much of my personal life with Ben? I straightened my spine and said, “No problem. Take the car back to B, and I’ll call it in. I was working at the house and I heard a crash and then saw the fire. Got it.” I looked down at his hands and he released me, looking satisfied at my conviction.

“Good. I’ll wait for the sirens to get close before I take off. You should be safe enough once the firemen get here. I doubt anyone will attack with so many humans around. The story is that I drove you home earlier, because you were upset with your grandmother. I’ll be back soon with your Jeep to keep an eye on you and complete that story.” He turned and headed out the front door.

“Hey, what do you mean, ‘you doubt they’ll attack’? Zeke just killed the guy who was after me!” I yelled after him.

Who else wants me dead, and why don’t I know about it? With sweaty palms I dug out my cell and looked at the screen. Ten messages, they’ll have to wait.

I took a deep breath and dialed 911. This would kill me. I never lie, because nothing good ever comes from it. But unless I want to be charged with murder or put away in an asylum, I don’t see any other choice.

With that thought, I closed my eyes and channeled my inner actress. Panting, I yelled, “Hello, hello!” at the dispatcher when he answered. “My house is on fire!”

Limoncello

The fire fighters were only a few minutes away and arrived before the fire could spread into the main house. Just as Ben had predicted, the rest of the house wasn’t burnt. I’d shut the large exterior doors to help contain most of the smoke outside the main house, but the place was still a smoky mess.

As I grieved over my loss—no acting required—the fire fighters listened to my tale. I told them the story Ben had concocted, and they happily bought it. My insurance agent came by, more out of curiosity I think, and instructed me to cut the trees around the house for safety and a discount on my insurance. Neighbors came by to check on me and nose around the fire.

Alan had been working a couple of hours away, so it took him a while to get home. When he arrived I was thankful to let him take over. I went up to our room to call Dennis and let him know that he’d have a nice insurance job to tide him through the holiday season.

Hearing his voice and having Alan home reminded me that some normal people still cared for me and I had a life beyond the craziness that was obviously a curse of my heritage. I curled up in the oversized chair in our bedroom and glanced across the room to the wall of pictures, a collage of history and memories. One photo had been taken when the house was first built. Seraiah and Evangeline were posed in front of the house, their expressions cold. No one ever smiled in pictures from those days—even children looked serious and sad.

The noise from downstairs finally quieted, and I closed my eyes for a moment. Foremost on my exhausted mind: how was Evangeline different? Had she understood what she was? What am I, really? Is there a name for it? And where is the body of the guy Zeke killed? He’s a dog—would he bury it?

The sun through the windows was warm on my skin, and with the house open, I could smell the salt from the bay in the air as it mingled with the tartness of…lemons. Dismissing the strange sent I took a deep breath and tried to relax.

“Buon pomeriggio, che cosa posso ottenere per voi perdere.”

My eyes flew open at the sound of the unfamiliar voice and language. The waiter looked handsome in his crisp white uniform. I knew he was speaking Italian, but I didn’t know what he’d said. I sat up and my eyes drank in the vision of a beautiful cliff-side city on the water. The vibrant fuchsia bougainvillea contrasted against the pastel stucco of the homes built against the steep hillside. Twisting and turning roads cut a path to the top of the town.

I was seeing Positano, on the Amalfi coast of
Italy
. I recognized it from a vacation Alan and I had taken several years ago. The sound of waves breaking against the hull of a boat triggered the memory of a day we’d spent out on the water. However, this boat isn’t rocking like our vacation rental boat, which also hadn’t had any waiters. I looked around.

Oh, my God. This boat is huge, nothing like the one we rented for the day on vacation. This boat is more along the lines of the big yachts we drooled over while we swam in the cold blue water of the ocean. I started to stand to get a better view, but a deep, gravelly voice stopped me.

“My Qadesh?”

My body immediately softened at the sound of his voice. Each muscle seemed to wait for his touch. I turned to see him sitting in the steamer chair next to me, as if we were a couple on holiday enjoying a day in the sun. At least he was mostly dressed this time, although the tight swimming shorts left little to the imagination. I found myself appreciating his muscular build entirely too much. The intricate detail of the tattoo that lay like a necklace around his neck fascinated me. I imagined running my fingers over that ink-darkened skin and learning every intricate detail of the design. I was grateful that he wasn’t within touching distance, because I was overwhelmed with the idea of touching him.

He spoke then, breaking my concentration and drawing my eyes back to his. “The waiter is asking if you desire anything further from him. I believe that you would enjoy another fresh limoncello. Would you like me to order for you?”