Nemesis: Paranormal Angel Romance (Realm of Flame and Shadow Book 2) Page 5

  “Are you… an angel?”

  Despite the fact she was running late, his unexpected question made her laugh. She’d been called many things in her life. But no one had ever asked if she was an angel. She bent over him, phial in hand.

  “Yes,” she whispered. How nice to be thought an angel when most humans, if they knew what she truly was, would call her a monster or worse. She dripped a couple of drops onto the boy’s neck and his skin sizzled as it healed.

  With one hand she pulled him upright. He didn’t fall over.

  That was good enough for her.

  She picked up the stake. She needed that as proof to claim her bounty. Then she turned on her heel and ran back to the car.

  Azrael

  Azrael found Estella’s without any problem. It looked casual and laid back, with a bar taking up the length of one wall and the restaurant occupying the remaining space. He’d even arrived a few minutes early so Rowan wouldn’t have to wait for him. Except, as it turned out, he was the one waiting for her.

  He’d never had to wait for a woman before. He wasn’t entirely sure he liked the experience. It felt too—mortal.

  His vague irritation vanished when he caught sight of her hurrying along the road towards him. Her long hair was loose, and the bitter wind tossed her black curls around her face in glorious abandonment.

  And he remembered why he’d wanted to see her again. Why he was waiting here, ten minutes after the appointed time, when under any other circumstances he would’ve walked when the clock struck eight.

  It was because, quite simply and possibly bizarrely, he enjoyed looking at her.

  “Hi.” She sounded out of breath. “Sorry I’m late. I had to sort out a last-minute work thing.”

  She was wearing a long black leather coat with silvery boots. How high did the boots go? To her thighs?

  He couldn’t wait to find out.

  “I hope they paid you overtime.” He draped his arm across her shoulders in a blatant gesture of possession. For some reason he wanted every male in the vicinity to know that this woman belonged to him tonight.

  And he had no intention analyzing why.

  She gave a breathless laugh as they entered the warmth of the restaurant.

  “I’m paid on commission. But even so, it was really bad timing.” She raked her fingers through her hair, attempting to tame the windswept tangles.

  He led her to the bar and as she sat on one of the high stools her coat flapped open revealing her black lace covered thigh. The boots only reached to just below her knee. He’d not seen anything so seductive in years.

  “Sounds intriguing. What do you do?”

  “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” She sounded perfectly serious.

  He laughed. His question had been automatic as he had only a fleeting interest in what she did for a living. But her refusal to tell him made him genuinely curious. Especially since she still wasn’t flirting.

  She absolutely meant that she had no intention of telling him what her job was.

  He leaned closer so he could breathe in her evocative scent of jasmine. “That’s usually my line.”

  He waited for the inevitable questions. What woman could possibly resist such a provocation? But she merely nodded, and apparently had no intention of trying to coax the information out of him.

  “Can you tell me your name?” She sounded as though she would completely understand if he said no. What’s more, he got the impression she wouldn’t especially care if he said no.

  In the past he’d often not known the name of females he’d had. It had certainly never bothered him at the time. But now, with Rowan, he discovered he wasn’t at all impressed by the notion that she might not care as to whether she knew his name or not.

  “Azrael.”

  She repeated his name as if it was an exotic treat she was savoring on her tongue. “Like the angel of death?”

  Right. He hadn’t expected that. She hadn’t struck him as an authority on archangels, even if the information in general circulation about them was complete crap.

  He was saved from answering by the bartender taking their orders. Rowan requested an unopened bottle of water. And then they were ushered to their table in a secluded corner.

  She took off her coat. She was wearing a long sleeved black and silver dress that clung to her curves and hugged her mid-thigh. Long silver earrings, a riot of tiny stars and half-moons, glinted against her midnight hair and she wore half a dozen or so silver bangles.

  One bangle was encrusted with amethysts.

  They sat down and she rested her wrists on the edge of the table. A faint hum of electricity emanated from the semiprecious stones, a sure sign the quartz’s inherent power wasn’t dormant. She didn’t wear amethysts merely for decoration. These unpolished stones had been cleansed and were well used. Rowan knew of their healing power. Interesting.

  He trailed a path over the back of her hand. Her skin was smooth and cool to his touch, and he slid his finger into the tempting hollow between her thumb and palm. Her thumb closed over him, so slightly it might have been unintentional, but the sensation of entrapment was exquisite.

  His gaze caught hers. Slowly he pushed his finger a little deeper. Without breaking eye contact she curled her fingers into a fist, creating a tight passage that cocooned him in seductive promise.

  Long black lashes framed her entrancing eyes, and her delicate bone structure was enhanced by an ethereal translucent quality. He’d thought her beautiful in the nightclub. He’d been wrong.

  She was stunning.

  She didn’t release his hand when a waiter came to take their order, and when they were once again alone, he leaned over the table until their breath mingled. “I’ve been looking forward to tonight, Rowan.”

  “So have I.” Her whisper was husky, provocative, and like a smoky aphrodisiac weaved into his veins and smoldered his blood. “I’m glad last night fell through now.”

  So was he. An undercurrent of sexual awareness had sizzled through his blood since the moment he’d met her, and the postponement of consummation was deliciously erotic.

  He curved his fingers around her fist and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “Tonight, I’ll make all your fantasies come true.”

  She smiled, as if she thought he didn’t mean a word.

  “That’ll be nice.” Her polite response confirmed his suspicion. His lips curved into a wicked grin against her knuckles. Tonight might be many things. But he had no intention of any of it being merely nice.

  He was going to rock her world. But he had the strongest suspicion she was going to rock his, too.

  Chapter 6

  Rowan

  Rowan gazed into Azrael’s dark eyes. Fascinating golden flecks gave him an intriguing untamed appearance and she knew she was enjoying this encounter far too much for her future peace of mind.

  She pushed the thought aside. It was just a one-night stand. The only difference was, for the first time, she was experiencing the novelty of seduction beforehand.

  “Tell me, Rowan.” His voice was sinfully sexy, and a wicked smile curved his delectable lips. It was obvious he knew his lethal charm could get him anything he wanted. “What’s your most outrageous fantasy?”

  He’d disappear faster than a staked vampire if she told him what she really wanted was to be a full blood human. He’d either think she was insane or into role acting so completely that reality was a distant memory.

  No way was she going to spoil this moment with the truth. Well, not the whole truth anyway.

  “My most outrageous fantasy?” Her voice sounded surprisingly husky. And although she’d spent an hour practicing to get her tone just right before leaving her bedroom earlier tonight, it had nothing to do with artifice.

  It was hard to breathe properly when he held her hand as though it was something infinitely precious and when he looked at her with eyes that smoldered with blatant desire. It was a miracle she could speak at all when she could scarcely drag oxygen
into her lungs.

  “Yes?” He breathed the word across her knuckles, a sensuous whisper of possible promise.

  She knew he expected her to say bondage or ménage or maybe even having sex in a public place. But she was sick of having once-a-year sex in cars and back alleys. She wanted so much more than that.

  “My most outrageous fantasy would be offering absolute trust to my partner.”

  Shock flared in his gorgeous eyes. Shit. Should she have said something more predictable? Desperately she tried to recall the sex advice and dating articles she’d dissected since last night. And realized she’d just dropped a major gaffe.

  He probably thought she was hinting at something long term. And no matter how much she did wish for that, it was something she’d never seek. Not after Steven.

  Not after Brad’s tortured confidences last night.

  “That’s what I call a challenge.” Azrael didn’t sound on the verge of beating a hasty retreat. He sounded intrigued.

  Enchanted by his response she smiled back at him. It was an impossible challenge, but the thought of him even attempting such a feat caused warmth to drift through her scarred heart.

  She concentrated on memorizing every tiny detail of Azrael’s face. She’d never seen such a fierce combination of strength and beauty before—and she’d seen more than her fair share of astounding vampiric beauty in her life.

  The door to the restaurant smashed open and voices rose up.

  “Calm down, son.” The waiter’s voice was firm, and with a faint frown she glanced over to the door. And froze. God, no. It was the boy who’d been attacked. Why hadn’t he just gone home? Why had he come in here of all places?

  Azrael followed her glance. She took a deep breath and deliberately looked away from the boy. It wasn’t as if he’d recognize her. It wasn’t as though she had anything to worry about. But even so. Talk about shitty luck.

  “…think it was a vampire...” The boy’s voice was edged with panic and it seemed everyone in the restaurant was watching him. She picked up her water and took a long swallow. Why didn’t they take the kid into a back room?

  Azrael looked back at her. “So,” he said, “about this challenge of yours—”

  “But an angel saved me,” the boy said and from the corner of her eye she saw how the manager and another guy were attempting to usher the boy somewhere less conspicuous. Even Azrael appeared distracted as he threw the boy another glance.

  They’d almost got him through the door that led into the staff area when he swung around. Even though she was focusing on her water with fierce concentration, she knew the boy was looking directly at her. Against her will, her gaze caught his.

  He was riveted. Why didn’t the management just shove him through the door? But instead he raised his arm and pointed at her, a look of reverential awe scrawled across his features.

  “There.” His whisper thundered through her head as if he’d yelled from the highest church steeple. She could feel the ripple in the atmosphere as the other diners turned to see who the boy was pointing at. Heat seared her cheeks and she forcibly resisted the urge to slide under the table and hide.

  What a bloody idiot she was. She should have taken the time to use her limited powers of persuasion, combined with her amethysts, to cloud the boy’s memory so he wouldn’t remember the attack, or his subsequent rescue. But she’d been so eager not to be late for her date that she’d been derelict in her duty.

  And this is what happened when she tried to cut corners. It came back and tore great chunks out of her arse.

  “Hey.” Azrael’s low voice pierced her self-condemnation. “Are you okay?”

  She risked shooting the boy another glance, but finally he’d been persuaded to leave the restaurant. She refocused on her water, not sure she wanted to see the expression on Azrael’s face just yet.

  “I’m fine.” She’d just managed to make herself the center of attention, and not through something meaningless or innocent which could be easily overlooked. She’d made a basic error of judgment and errors that threatened the security of the Enclave weren’t tolerated.

  Dhampirs were supposed to flit like ghosts through the human population. Clearing up the messes left by rogues and carrying out assassinations ordered by high-ranking vampires. They weren’t supposed to draw attention to themselves. Especially when that attention was connected to their line of work.

  Especially when they happened to be on an illicit date.

  “Are you going to kill me now?” Azrael’s voice was gently mocking, but he still didn’t relinquish her hand. “I know what you do for a living. You’re an angel.”

  She didn’t need to have a vampire’s enhanced hearing to know she was the focus of every conversation in the restaurant. The sideways glances burned like lasers. All she could hope was the story went no farther than these restaurant walls. Because if it ended up online there was no hope of hiding her mistake from the Enclave.

  Azrael was still waiting for her reply. She risked looking into his gorgeous eyes and almost forgot the mess she’d got herself into.

  “I’m supposed to be undercover.”

  It was true, in a way. She was undercover. As a human. The last thing she wanted—especially right now—was for her cover to be blown.

  The amusement dancing in his eyes died. “I see.”

  She knew he didn’t. He probably imagined she was an undercover cop. But that was okay. Better than the truth. With a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach she pulled her hand free.

  “I just need to go to the bathroom.” Then, if he wanted out, he could just leave without fabricating some excruciating excuse. She left her coat on the back of the chair and weaved among the tables, keeping her head down. Not that it made any difference. Curious stares followed her right to the ladies’ room.

  With a heavy sigh she planted her hands on the vanity bench and braced her weight. She was probably making too big a deal of it. People would more likely think the boy was high, than he’d really been attacked by a vampire. No one was going to guess what she was, based on the rantings of a spaced-out kid. As far as she knew no-one had sneaked a photo of her, which meant the chances of the Enclave finding out about tonight was close to zero.

  She straightened her shoulders. There had been plenty of time for Azrael to make his getaway. Steeling her nerves, she re-entered the restaurant and despite her best intentions her focus zeroed onto their table.

  Her heart lurched. It was empty. He had left her. And although she’d expected him to, deep down she’d harbored the hope that he wouldn’t.

  Stop. It was a good thing he’d left. Now she could get out of here without drawing any more attention to herself.

  She made her way back to the table, avoiding all the pointed looks. Except there weren’t any. She risked glancing at the nearest group of diners, and they were completely ignoring her.

  Not one person in the restaurant was looking her way. Considering how nobody had been able to tear their attention from her less than five minutes ago it was a bit weird to feel so invisible.

  She pulled her coat off the back of her chair and tried not to remember the way Azrael had looked at her just before she’d gone to the bathroom. She could have sworn she’d seen sympathy in his eyes. But, as always when it came to deciphering human emotions, she’d been wrong.

  It hadn’t been sympathy. He’d been calculating how soon he could escape.

  “Let me help.” Azrael’s dark, seductive voice drifted against her ear as his hands grasped her coat. Her heart jerked against her ribs and tremors raced along her arms at the contact. Yet a discordant thought vibrated through her jangling nerves. How didn’t I know he was behind me?

  But that puzzle faded into insignificance beside the overwhelming knowledge that he hadn’t left. “Thanks.”

  He wound his arm around her waist and held her securely against his side, as if he was publicly declaring territorial rights. She shot him an uncertain glance as they made their way to the doo
r before she pulled to a halt.

  “I’ll just go and settle the bill,” she said. Azrael might never set foot in Estella’s again and not give a damn about wasted food, time, or paying his way, but it was one of her favorite places. Even if she never came here again after tonight’s spectacle.

  “It’s done, Rowan. I always pay my debts.”

  He pushed open the door and the February wind whirled with icy intent. His arm tightened around her, drawing her into the seductive heat that emanated from his body. He might no longer want to share dinner with her, but he still wanted her. She shoved her foolish daydreams aside and focused on her reality.

  “Is your car nearby?” At least in a car she’d be out of the cold. She could close her eyes and pretend they were somewhere less sordid.

  She felt his big body shake with silent laughter.

  “No. It’s not far. I’ll soon warm you up.” He tugged her closer and she sank into the fantasy that this was more than an anonymous hookup. Well, it wasn’t anonymous for a start. She knew his name.

  What am I thinking? She’d broken the golden rule of the Enclave. Dhampirs were supposed to be all but invisible in public. They should never be the focus of questioning glances. She needed to get back to the mansion and lay low. Not follow through with this illicit birthday present to herself anymore.

  Without warning, an eerie shiver skated along the back of her neck and she stiffened, instantly alert. Something’s watching me. She looked across the road and in her peripheral vision saw—could have sworn she saw—a shadow lurking in a dark doorway.

  But there was nothing there. And nothing, not even a vampire, could move so fast that she wouldn’t have seen it, even if it had vaporized. Once a vampire was in their sight, tracking its movement was one of the dhampirs’ strengths.

  She was seeing shadows when there were none.

  But this is still too dangerous.

  He suddenly pulled to a halt and looked down at her with a quizzical frown. Then, before she realized what he was doing, he shrugged off his long winter coat and flung it around her shoulders.