This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
Published by Fallen Press, Ltd.
Copyright © 2016
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.
Angel Warrior: An Angel Warrior Romance
Angel Betrayed: An Angel Warrior Romance (Release date 6/22/16)
Angel Awakened: An Angel Warrior Romance (Release date 6/29/16)
Angel Captured: An Angel Warrior Romance (Release date 7/6/16)
Angel Forever: An Angel Warrior Romance (Release date 7/13/16
To Kiss A Warrior: An Alien Rogue Romance
To Touch A Warrior: An Alien Rogue Romance (Release date 6/24/16)
To Protect A Warrior: An Alien Rogue Romance (Release date 7/1/16)
To Trust A Warrior: An Alien Rogue Romance (Release date 7/8/16)
To Love A Warrior: An Alien Rogue Romance (Release date 7/15/16
Friend. Writing Partner. Inspiration.
Here’s to many, many more collaborations.
“So, how is your day looking? Do you think I could meet you for lunch?” Doug’s voice comes through the door of the bathroom, and I can tell he’s standing right outside.
I close the door of the medicine cabinet and look at myself in the mirror. There is something wrong with Doug these days, but I can’t put my finger on it. It should be okay for a guy I’m seeing occasionally to ask about my job, right? The only thing is, he never took an interest in it until about a month ago.
And the last time he met me at my office he’d been a little too snoopy for my liking.
“Uh, no.” I try to sound reluctant. “I have to meet my boss for lunch today.”
I open the door and step out, and he puts his arms around me. It used to make me feel special, but now I just feel…worried. On the outside he’s the same man, green button-down shirt and black slacks, raven hair parted on the side. But now I look up into his piercing blue eyes and wonder what’s going on in his head.
“That’s too bad, Gillian.” His familiar grin is missing its warmth. “Dinner tomorrow, then?”
“Yeah, sounds great.” Maybe. I don’t think I’ll be seeing Doug again, but I’ll cancel by phone. It’s been a great few months, but I don’t have time to deal with his weirdness. My work comes first. Especially now. I’m pretty close to a breakthrough that could completely change my career forever.
Better get to it, hadn’t I?
Gillian works too hard. The errant thought startles me.
I’ve never cared about what the person I’m protecting does before. But there’s something special about Gillian. Something that draws me to her in a way I can’t explain. Maybe it’s her passion for her work. Or maybe she’s just the hottest thing you’ve seen in a long, long time.
Whatever it is, it makes being assigned to her rather difficult. And keeping my mind on my work is usually not a problem for me.
She’s finally leaving her lab at 7:00 p.m. As she crosses the street to meet her roommate for coffee at their usual café, I’m struck again by how beautiful she is. Faded blue jeans and a T-shirt, eyes so blue they’re almost purple, shiny blond hair back in a ponytail. I wonder what it feels like to run my fingers through it. She’s natural. No makeup required. And she’s a scientist.
Brains and beauty.
Next to her, I’m a beast.
My story is different. I skipped out on school, did my time in the service, and then built a security company and made a living protecting low-life scumbags from other low-life scumbags. Until I was shot point-blank by someone I’d trusted.
How I became an angel when I died I’ll never know. I guess Michael just needed people who could fight. Because I sure as hell can fight.
And I’ve got an instinct when one is coming up. Like right now. Something’s wrong, but I can’t put my finger on it. I knew when Michael assigned me to her that there might be trouble. But he wasn’t very specific on what that trouble might be. Hell. Maybe he doesn’t even know what it is.
I jump off the rooftop, extending my wings to float down to the ground. It’s a busy downtown metropolitan day, but I’m not worried. Most humans can’t see me when I do miraculous things like extend my wings or fly. There is the occasional exception, but other humans tend to think they’re crazy. Most see me only when I make a real effort to show myself.
I land in front of the coffee shop window, blocking the view of her from the street.
A blinding pain slices through my side. My eyes search for the thrower as my hand closes around the hilt of the dagger.
This is going to hurt.
I grit my teeth as I pull it out, but a muffled “Fuck!” comes out anyway. That burns like hell. I never said I was a fucking hero. I just said I could fight.
Another dagger comes flying, this time toward my chest. I block it with my wing. And my eyes have found the culprit.
It’s a demon. None of the pedestrians react—to them he looks human. But I can see him for who he is. Demons are slightly larger than humans, with grayish skin, horns, and long, thin whiplike tails. Beware the tails. The daggers on the ends of those little bastards hurt.
I raise my eyebrows in surprise, but don’t have time to wonder why the demons are here. Did I attract them, or is it the woman I’m protecting? The mystery deepens as two more appear out of nowhere.
I throw up a shield of protection around the window where she sits, then turn back just as the first demon jumps from the roof of a bus and lands on me. I toss him into the air and he flies into the side of the bus. I backhand the other demon that comes from the opposite direction. Two well-placed kicks throw him into the windshield of a taxi, which spidercracks while the occupants inside scream incoherently.
The third demon has reached me now. I grapple with him, throwing him into the shielded window. I punch him in the stomach with quick jabs, his head banging repeatedly against the glass. I peer inside the coffee shop over his shoulder briefly to make sure the shield is still working.
Sure enough, Gillian notices nothing. Her roommate is making her laugh with his crazy facial expressions. So innocent.
Unlike this demon.
I finally get a stranglehold around his throat.
“Why are you here?” I use my angelic voice, deep and powerful.
He splutters and I realize he can’t speak. I loosen my fist. Slightly.
“You don’t know?” He laughs. “The biggest news in the underworld and you boys upstairs know nothing. Typical.”
I tighten my other fist. I really want to put it through his jaw. But then he won’t be able to talk at all. “Are you after me?”
He shakes his head and his eyes burn with hatred. “Sometimes your arrogance astounds even me.”
“Who are you after?”
His eyes inadvertently roll toward Gillian. Then he snaps out of it. “I’m not telling you anything.” He gasps. “Giving us a fighting chance.”
Then the body slumps and I realize he’s just a walk-in. The real owner of this corpse is gone.
“Shit.” The body crumbles to dust at my feet. Long gone.
I hear a scream and see that the first demon has awakened and is attacking a random woman on the sidewalk. My stomach lurches. If he bites the back of her neck by her spine, then he’ll be able to walk in to her. And that’s the last thing I need.
They struggle and end up in the street. I look between my charge and the woman. It’s not my responsibility to protect every human on the street, but I know between the demon and the speeding cars, she doesn’t have a chance of walking away alive.
“Shit!” Sometimes duty is a bitch. I force myself between them and use the dagger I pulled out of my abdomen to stab him through the heart. He crumbles to dust at my feet. The woman runs off.
“You’re welcome,” I grumble.
Just then, I hear Gillian’s voice. Spinning around, I’m shocked to find her on the sidewalk right behind me. I’ve never been this close to her before. The late evening sun breaks through in the space between two high-rise buildings, framing her face perfectly. An expression of fear comes over her and she outstretches her hand toward me. I notice the flecks of darker blue in her eyes for the very first time.
For a moment, she glows.
I haven’t had feelings this strong since before I died. I step toward her in a trance.
I look to the left, and the last thing I see is the windshield of a bus.
As I walk through the door of the coffee shop, my eyes are drawn to the right. The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen stands before me in the street, and I’m pulled toward him by a force I can’t explain. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a bus hurtling toward him. I throw up my hand to warn him and he takes a step toward me. But it’s too late. The bus hits him and throws him across the pavement.
“Oh my God, Gillian, did you see that?” Keith shakes my shoulder, waving his other hand hysterically.
My heart is in my throat as I race to his side, but I freeze when I reach him. His white shirt is drenched in blood. A crimson pool spreads beneath his body.
Did I just watch a man die? We kneel down next to him. His deeply tanned skin is pale against his dark brown hair. I’m afraid to touch him, in case his skin is already growing cold. And for such a large and imposing man, he looks surprisingly peaceful.
Death reduces us all to just humans.
Keith touches his shoulders. “Can you hear me?” My friend looks up at me, all color drained from his face. “What should we do? Mouth-to-mouth?”
At any other time, his suggestion would be funny. There’s nothing Keith would like better than to have an excuse to put his lips on the gorgeous man.
But there’s no amusement in his words now. Just hopelessness.
I hesitantly reach down and check for a pulse. For a minute I don’t feel it. Tears gather in the corners of my eyes. But then, I detect it. It’s slow, but steady. “He’s alive.” I put my fingers in front of his mouth. “And he’s breathing.”
“Do you think he’s going to make it?” Keith asks solemnly, placing a hand on his chest.
“God, I hope so.” I bite my lip, slowly coming out of my shock. “We should call 9-1-1.”
“I’ve already done that,” an assertive man in a business suit steps forward.
For the first time, I notice there’s quite a crowd building around us.
Keith blinks several times and stands. I can see the resolve coming over his face. With me he’s often a jokester to a fault, but his day job as a lab tech means he has a more serious side.
“All right. Step aside, people. Step aside.” Keith puts his arms out, blocking them from coming closer.
“I didn’t even see him,” an overweight man in a faded gray uniform says, his expression distraught. “He stepped right in front of me.”
Keith puts an arm around him and steers him back into the rest of the crowd.
With my friend focusing on the bus driver and the crowd, I look back at the injured man before me. My hand reaches out to brush a curl of dark brown hair out of his eyes before I even know what I’m doing.
The man opens his eyes. They are clear, green, and deep. I can almost feel them pulling me in. I realize my hands are on his chest. I shake my head and physically pull myself back. But when I do, it feels like something’s pulling me back toward him. I wish I could touch him again. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” He speaks with a deep, husky voice. He tries to push me away and sit up.
“Whoa.” I push back, trying to keep him flat on his back, gesturing to his bleeding torso. “You just got hit by a bus. An ambulance is on the way.”
“I’m fine,” he insists. He scans the tops of the buildings along both sides of the street.
I follow his gaze, not sure what he’s looking for. When his green eyes come back to me, I realize I’m having trouble keeping my focus on his injuries. “You can’t be. No one could be. You’re in shock,” I insist, but he brushes my hands away.
“I don’t need a doctor.” He rises gracefully from the pavement, showing no sign he was mowed down by a bus just moments before except for his bloody shirt.
Keith joins me at his side, dwarfed by the massive stranger. ”Are you sure? You should come home with us, at the very least. Just to be on the safe side.”
Just then two police officers arrive, hurrying down the sidewalk toward us. “Ambulance is on the way,” one of the men says to me. The other one puts out cones to block traffic.
“I’m fine,” the stranger says again.
“Just have a seat, sir.” The policeman points to the bus stop bench right behind us. “Help is just a few minutes away.”
I hold my breath, hoping the stubborn man will do as he’s told. It wasn’t as if he stubbed his toe. This was serious.
Behind us, someone cries out. I turn to see the bus driver clutching his chest. His eyes go blank, and he collapses to the ground. The police officer in front of us races over.
I look back at the bleeding stranger. To my annoyance, he turns and strides off down the sidewalk. I look between him and the man who’s currently receiving CPR from the police officer. They really couldn’t just let this guy run off to die farther down the street, could they?
“We need to help him.”
Keith nods beside me. “I’m on it.”
I start after the injured man. “Excuse me!”
Keith runs past me, his loud voice silencing my own. “Sir! Sir! At least come home with us, just to be on the safe side.”
The man pauses midstride and turns around.
I catch up to them, and his green-eyed gaze turns to me. I catch my breath. In that instant, I know he’s going to say yes. The force between us is too strong.
Keith looks from me to him. “I’m sure it’d make her feel a lot better to know you’re okay. You did give us quite a scare, after all.”
He is silent for a long moment. “All right.”
I can’t believe I was run over by a bus. If any of the other guys saw me, I’ll never hear the end of it. But it’s worked out to my advantage.
I’m going home with her.
Sometimes fate is like that.
Gillian is walking in front of me, her long, blond ponytail swinging around every time she looks back to see that I’m still here. I’m still here, baby. I can guarantee I’m following those hips all the way home.
Why do I want her so much?
I haven’t really thought about women too much since being turned thirty three years ago. I’ve been too busy fighting. But I’m thinking about one woman right now. There’s something special about Gillian. A kind of sparkle. And her ass looks great in jeans.
They are leading me back to their apartment, whispering to each other, completely unaware of my superior hearing.
“Why did you suggest he come home with us? Are you crazy?”
“Because I saw him before he got hit by the bus. He was looking right at you with a lovestruck expression. It was so obvious.”
She glances furtively over her shoulder again. “I think there must have been something more in your coffee than what I got. There’s no way that guy was looking at me.”
“Girl, you don’t know your own beauty. I’m telling you, you are a stunner.”
I agree. You are definitely a stunner.
“I’m more worried about his injuries than any look he gave me right about now.”
Her friend glances back at me. “So, we’ll make sure he’s okay first. But then, just imagine the romantic story you’ll have to tell your tall, gorgeous kids!”
She rubs her face. “You’re crazy. You really are, you know that?”
He bumps her shoulder. “Sometimes you find love, girl. But sometimes love finds you. Trust me on that one.”
We arrive at their apartment and I follow them up the steps. Gillian fumbles through her bag for her keys, so Keith does the honors.
Inside, she immediately turns to me, her gaze focused on my torso. “Let’s take off that shirt and see how bad things are.”
I swear my heart stops. She wants me to undress for her? No problem.
But for some reason, my fingers fumble with the buttons on my shirt. After a second, she pushes my hands away and undoes each one with a distinctly professional air.
By the time she lets it drop to the floor, I’m excited in a way I haven’t been for over thirty years. I resist checking myself out, just to be sure. Hello down there. It’s been a while.
Her eyes caress every inch of me, taking in my tattoos, my pecs, my abs. She swallows. “Just a second.” She turns and heads down the hall.
Keith is busy staring at my chest, his mouth hanging open. A couple of slow minutes pass, without him saying a word.
“Here,” she says. A second later, a warm cloth touches my chest, and I hiss.
Her eyes widened. “Does it hurt?”
“Just surprised,” I mumble, my voice a bit husky.
I watch her trembling hand as she wipes the blood from my chest and my side. She goes to the kitchen sink and rinses the cloth several times before coming back. The cloth is always warm. I’m thankful for that.
Her hand drops to her side. “There’s just a little cut.”
I look down, wishing, too late, that I’d considered what she might find when she finally undressed me. “Uh. Most of it was paint.”
“Paint?” she repeats.
I can tell she doesn’t believe me. “Yeah, I was helping a friend paint her apartment.”
“Well, geez,” Keith cuts in, his mouth finally working again. “Why didn’t you mention that in the first place? See, Gillian, he’s going to be fine.”
She brings the cloth back to the sink, wringing it out one last time. “I guess that’s good,” she says, over the sound of the running water.
“I’m glad that’s over with.” Keith says, even though his tone suggests the exact opposite.
The room goes uncomfortably quiet.
“Please, have a seat on the sofa.” Gillian gestures to the couch with one hand, while grabbing Keith’s arm with the other. “I’ll be right back.”
She drags him down the hall.
I grin. Not far enough, I can still hear them.
“What am I supposed to do with him now?” she hisses at her roommate.
“Anything you want, girlfriend. Although I have a lot of suggestions, if you need them, on what to do with a sexy, shirtless man,” he replies, a smile in his voice. “I’m staying the night with Peter, so you’ll have the place all to yourself.”
Good man. I’m going to have to buy him a beer sometime.
“What?! You’re leaving me alone with him?”
“Of course! I only came back here to get my overnight bag. Toodles!” He grabs a bag from his room and walks past me, waggling his fingers back at her. He throws a wink over his shoulder at me before sashaying out the door.
Gillian takes a while to come down the hall, approaching more slowly. “This is the only one of his shirts I thought might fit you.”
I take it, grateful. I pull it on, realizing immediately that it’s far too tight. But beggars can’t be choosers, right? And it was definitely better than putting my bloody shirt back on.
“Um…it’s pretty late. Do you want something for dinner?”
Her shyness is endearing. Are you on the menu? Because I believe I’m starting to work up quite an appetite.
“I don’t have much in the fridge.” She unconsciously touches her hair. “But I can order takeout. Chinese. Pizza. Whatever.”
“Takeout sounds good. I’m not picky about food—it’s your choice.”
She decides quickly and, after I give her the go-ahead to order whatever she wants, calls it in. The takeout comes ridiculously fast. Her face turns a light shade of pink as she mumbles about being a regular at the place across the street.
I watch her closely as we eat. She’s very nervous at first, but opens up as we talk about superhero and sci-fi movies. I can tell she loves science fiction almost as much as she loves science.
After finishing dinner, we go back into the living room.
“Do you want to stay the night?” she asks, then rushes out. “On the couch, I mean. That way I can keep an eye on you in case you have a concussion or something.”
I try not to sound disappointed as I say, “Sure.” Even though sleeping in her bed sounds a heck of a lot better.
“The couch is a pullout. And I have extra sheets and blankets.” She backs out of the room and scrambles down the hall.
What is it about this guy? It isn’t just that he’s gorgeous. When we spoke at dinner, he listened. It’s been a long time since anyone but Keith listened to me like that. And he draws me in a way I can’t explain. Like gravity.
I ruffle through the closet, looking for a set without flowers. Something manly. Between myself and Keith, sometimes I don’t know who’s more girly. I finally find a matching set in royal blue. When I turn around, he’s right behind me.
I shriek. “You scared me!”
“Sorry,” he says, but he’s grinning.
He seems overly large in the small hallway, and my racing heart can’t seem to slow down. I sway toward him, brushing him with the sheets. He leans toward me as well, and for a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me. After an awkward silence, I thrust the sheets at him, not sure what else to do.
“Thank you,” he replies, chuckling as he walks back down the hall in front of me.
I try not to ogle him too much as he walks. But I can’t help myself. I’ve never seen a man as perfectly formed as him. The guy must hang out at the gym day and night to keep his entire body so tight.
An image of his naked chest flashes in my mind, and my whole body feels flushed. I remember running the cloth over him in the kitchen, caring for him. How had wiping blood off an injured man become so hot so fast?
He’s already pulled out the bed when we reach the living room. I don’t know how he did it that fast.
I stand there awkwardly until he tosses me one side of the fitted sheet. I shouldn’t notice his easy strength, how he simply lifts the corner of the mattress to tuck the corner under. Or the way his long fingers smooth over the sheet. Making this bed together feels strangely intimate.
“So, uh, what do you do?”
He pauses. “You mean, for a living?”
“I’m in…law enforcement.” For some reason, that pause worries me.
“What kind of law enforcement?”
He gives me a level stare. “The kind that enforces laws.”
I’m not even going to respond to that.
When it becomes obvious I’m not going to let it go, he sighs. “Look, it’s classified. I can’t really tell you about it. That’s also why I didn’t want to go to the hospital.”
I search his face, but he seems to be telling the truth. His eyes are clear and look at me unwaveringly.
“All right, Mr. Classified. Water is in the kitchen, bathroom is the first door on the left. I’ll pull out a couple of towels and leave them in there for you.”
He places the other sheets on the bed, nodding. “All right, thank you very much for letting me stay here tonight.” He grabs the skintight shirt behind his neck and pulls it off over his head with one hand.
His incredible body hits me again, but this time I’m not worried about his injuries. I feel almost paralyzed as let my gaze slide over every inch of him. He looks like a magazine cutout, muscular and tanned from the waist up. Every ab is visible beneath taut skin. They ripple as he folds his T-shirt and sets it on the coffee table.
He looks up, and I can tell he’s debating whether to pursue me or not.
As drawn as I am to him, we just met. I start backing away. Straight into the wall. “Oomph,” I grunt ungracefully.
“Are you all right?” His face is filled with concern.
My face flames in embarrassment. “I—I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow. In the morning. Good night.”
His mouth quirks up at the corners and I can tell he’s trying not to laugh at me. I flee down the hall to my bedroom, closing the door, and locking it for good measure.
Maybe the lock should go the other way. I’m not sure who needs more protection. Me from him—or him from me.
My eyes open and I stare at an oddly high ceiling. Oh. Right. I’m still at Gillian’s. I sit up slowly. Argh. My back muscles bunch uncomfortably. Sleeping on human beds always does that to me. We don’t have to sleep upstairs, but down in the 3rd dimension we have many of the same needs as humans.
Or maybe it was getting hit by a bus yesterday. That was graceful.
I’m not sure I slept at all last night. Every few hours Gillian came out and pressed a soft palm to my forehead, or simply stood over me, watching the rise and fall of my chest. Her concern warmed me, but the thought of her so close to my bed, wearing her pink pajamas edged with lace, made it impossible to think of anything besides her.
I shift uncomfortably. I was hard damn near all night. And it had been ridiculously hard to keep my eyes mostly shut, feigning a peaceful sleep.
I try to smooth down my hair the best I can. A nervous energy fills me and, glancing around the room, I try to find something to do. I can make her breakfast. Maybe that would wrest a smile from her.
I pad to the kitchen and rifle through the fridge. Eggs. Bacon. Tomatoes. Peppers. Garlic. Bread. Perfect. I can work with this.
Before long, the aroma of bacon and eggs fill the air. It’s funny, but even though I don’t have to, I still love to cook. And eat.
I hear her open her door and come into the kitchen behind me. “Good morning.”
She’s adorably rumpled from sleep, her long, straight blond hair slightly frizzed. Her eyes are wide, and I can tell she doesn’t know what to say. There’s that hungry gaze again. It slides over each of my tattoos, then my chest, then my abs, then lower.
But I feel much the same. My eyes devour her, wishing I could brush that lace over every inch of her body.
I can tell the moment she realizes I’m watching her.
A blush creeps up her neck. “How are you feeling this morning?”
I clear my throat. “I’m fine. Good as new.”
“What are you making?” She tries to look around me at the pan on the stove.
She looks adorable. But way too serious. I want to see her smile.
I step to the left, then the right, blocking her view. “No peeking,” I tease.
She grins at that, looking a little more at ease. “I’m pretty sure it’s bacon and eggs.”
“And I’m pretty sure you know what that looks like already.” I wink. “Do you want coffee?”
“Yes, please.” She glances at the clock. “I want to get dressed. How long do I have before it’s ready?”
I turn back to the pan. “Ten minutes.”
“I’ll be ready in five.”
When the shower turns on, I try my hardest not to imagine her in there. Wet. Naked. Down boy. Those kinds of thoughts are exactly the ones that will get me in trouble.
I freeze as I’m stirring the eggs. What’s going on with me? I’m acting like a horny teenager, not the ambivalent angel I’d grown to accept.
She reemerges just as I finish putting the food on the table, her hair still wet from the shower.
“This is wonderful.” She looks up at me shyly. “You didn’t have to make breakfast.”
I laugh. “Of course I did, after you saved my life and everything. Please, eat up.”
She rolls her eyes, but sits down and takes a bite. Her eyes open wide. “Oh my,” she says with her mouth full. “This is delicious. What did you put in these eggs?” She picks up the plate to look at it.
“Just veggies and spices. The way my mama showed me how to make it.”
“Your mama sure knew what she was doing.”
“Yes, ma’am, she did.” I’m strangely pleased by how much she enjoys the food. She eats almost as fast as I do.
When she’s finished, she puts down the fork with obvious reluctance and looks at her watch again. “Thank you so much for breakfast. But it’s almost seven and I’ve got to head off to work in fifteen minutes.”
I nod and begin to gather the dishes, but she stops me by placing a hand on my arm. Energy arcs between us, making my skin tingle.
She pulls back with a gasp. “Please. I’ll get this. Why don’t you grab a shower?”
It’s only minutes later that we are standing awkwardly just inside her front door. “Thank you so much for helping me yesterday. And allowing me to stay the night.”
She laughs. “I don’t think I did much for you, but at least you weren’t alone.”
I pause at that. “You’re right. I wasn’t alone. And believe me, Gillian, that was enough.”
For the first time I realize how lonely I’ve been since becoming an angel. I have friends, other warriors, but no family. No love. I put my hand on the door handle, but don’t open it. “I’d really like to see you again.” My stomach jumps a little, and I realize I’m actually worried about what she’s going to say.
“Me, too,” she says, her gaze locked on her shoes.
I feel a surge of hope. “How about dinner tomorrow night? We could meet at the coffee shop.”
“Where you got hit? Isn’t that bad luck?”
I wink at her. “I heard you can’t get hit by a bus twice on the same street.”
She looks at me as if I’m pulling her leg.
And I am.
I don’t know what to do, so I take the back of her hand and kiss it. An electric shock goes through me as my lips touch her. A glance at the stunned expression on her face tells me she felt it, too.
“Tomorrow night at seven, then?” My eyes drink her in.
“Tomorrow at seven,” she agrees.
I don’t know if I’m allowed to date a human. I’m pretty sure it’s against the rules, in the fine print somewhere.
But I do know that for the first time since becoming an angel, I feel a spark of hope.
When I enter the building that houses my lab, Keith is waiting for me. “Oh my God, girl, I’ve been waiting here for an hour to find out what happened last night! Don’t keep me in suspense—give me details, tell me everything!”
“Be quiet!” I shush him, looking around. “He’d just been hit by a bus—I wasn’t going to jump on him last night.”
His hand goes to his forehead and he moans in pain. “Oh God, girl, you’re killing me here. Pleeeease tell me I did not leave and stay the night with that horrible Peter, listening to him snore all night long, just so you could do absolutely nothing with the hot, scrumptious specimen of a male that practically landed in your lap!” He’s shaking my shoulders in despair by the end of his speech.
I try to look chagrined. “I’m sorry I let you down, babe.”
He looks so crestfallen that I have to console him.
“But you know what? He asked me out to dinner tomorrow night.” I wink.
“Oh thank goodness!” He’s almost crying with relief. “The night was not a total disaster!”
I put my arm around his shoulders for a quick hug. “Definitely not, but I’d better get to work.”
He nods. “All right, sweetie. See you later.”
As the elevator door opens before me, he calls out, “Gillian! What was his name?”
I shrug. “I really have no idea.”
After I step into the elevator and the door closes, I can’t stop laughing. Had we really gone through all of that, and I forgot to ask him his name?
The elevator doors open on the twenty-eighth floor. Hand and retinal scanners at the door double-check my identity before they let me into the enormous lab that takes up a quarter of the building.
Due to the nature of my work, I need a bird’s-eye view of the city.
I begin setting up my equipment and computer programs for the experiments of the day.
I’ve just finished setting up when there is a loud crack. The door to the lab falls inward. Hesitantly, I start to slide toward the panic button.
Two men walk in. I want to call them men, but I’m not exactly sure they are. Their suits don’t seem to fit right. And they look different. Dangerous.
“Gillian Matthews?” the first one asks. He wears big, rimmed glasses, but they’re too far down his nose to be of any real use.
I’m just feet from the panic button. If I can just keep them distracted for another couple of seconds. “Who’s asking?
The second one clears his throat, stroking his dark beard. “I wouldn’t touch that button if I were you.”
I stop. How does he know? “What do you want?”
“Your notes, laptop, and you.”
His words hit me like a meteor. I understand the notes and the laptop, but me?
“Why?” I try to look shocked. “What on Earth do you want with surveillance stats?”
“Surveillance stats?” the one with the beard repeats back with a brow raised.
“Yes, I’m just measuring the flow of traffic on the roadways so we can set the traffic signals more effectively. Are you with the government?”
The guy with the beard looks up at the one who is fidgeting with his odd glasses. “Dean, what does the boss want with surveillance stats? Maybe we got the wrong girl.”
The other one finally snatches his glasses off his nose and chucks them across the room. They smash against the wall and shatter. “She’s lying to you, Blaine. Do you always have to be so gullible?”
I don’t think these two are professionals. I’ve only made it two steps closer to the panic button, but managed to pocket two of my USBs.
Dean turns back to me. “We know exactly what you’re doing. Turn it over, or we’ll make you wish you had. And then we’ll take it anyway.”
That’s when it hits me, even if I get to the panic button, these two thugs will probably be long gone with me and my equipment before anyone comes to help. I’ve worked for years developing my idea, and had to fight tooth and nail to get funding. If my theories are right, I could win a Nobel Prize with this someday.
I need a plan B.
I grab my laptop and start backing toward the window. “I don’t know what you think I’m doing, but I’m not giving you my research.” I look out the window and down to the street below. “And I’d rather die with it than give it to you.”
I hold my breath, hoping my bluff will pay off.
Instead, they split up, each walking toward me around opposite sides of the table. Not good. Not good at all.
“There’s no need to be so dramatic,” Dean says reasonably. “Maybe we can work this out.”
I give a slightly hysterical laugh. What am I supposed to do? If these two get me, I have no idea what they’ll do, but falling to my death is sounding less like a crazy threat and more like a real possibility. But it’s been a strange twenty-four hours. If a guy can survive getting hit by a bus with barely a scratch, maybe I’ll be fine, too.
“I don’t think so.” I back up until I’m pressed against the window.
When they reach me, I’m not quite ready to dive down twenty-eight floors just yet. I’m not much of a fighter, but I get in a good kick at Dean and two punches at Blaine before he grabs my laptop and tries to wrestle it out of my hands. Desperation pushes aside all rational thought. I should just let it go, but I can’t. And I’m not going to.
Dean grabs my ponytail and pulls my head backward while the second man is pulling the laptop from my arms. By some inhuman strength of will, I keep my grip.
“Give us the laptop… and we’ll… let you go.” Dean says.
I can tell he’s making an effort to be reasonable. But even if I believed him, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. “That’s not…going…to happen!” But I can feel my arms and fingers starting to tire.
Our sides hit the glass, and Dean uses his grip on my ponytail to bang my head against it. For a moment, my vision turns black, but my fingers stay firmly wrapped around my laptop.
As if in slow motion, I hear the spidercracking of the glass behind us. Fear fuels me, and I wrench the laptop away and duck beneath the table, just in time.
The window shatters with a sound like a gunshot, and suddenly, the wind is everywhere. I hear a scream and turn to see that Dean is gone.
But that’s when things get really weird.
An enormous, winged bird flies in through the broken window space. It attacks Blaine, who has fled around the table in the opposite direction. I’m not sure whether to stay put or try to flee. The new winged thing might vaguely resemble some kind of guardian angel, but there’s no guarantee it’s on my side.
Its back is to me as it fights with Blaine so all I can see are the two silver-tipped wings coming out the center of its shirtless back. I get flashes of skin and…tattoos? He moves with amazing grace, pinning Blaine against the wall in record time. I hear him growl, “Why do you want her?”
Have I given in to hysteria? Is there really a talking, man-sized bird interrogating a would-be thief in my lab?
Blaine doesn’t answer, but struggles and suddenly turns to dust.
“Dammit!” the winged thing shouts.
When he turns to me, green eyes meet mine. My stomach feels the pull toward him again. I shiver, unable to process what I’m seeing.
Holy shit. It’s the guy from last night. But…with wings? He’s wearing a leather belt with a sheath clipped to it and what looks like a dagger inside. And this time, his skin has more of a golden glow to it than I remember.
He doesn’t seem fazed by the wind, which is starting to die down as the pressure equalizes. “Get your stuff. We need to get out of here.”
I don’t move. “You flew in through the window.”
He frowns and pulls me out from under the table.
I let him, even though my brain seems frozen. “You have wings…and you…you can fly?”
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” he mutters.
As if that means anything to me.
“How could I not see that? You just flew in the window.”
He looks thoroughly perplexed now. “Most humans don’t see when we do supernatural things.”
His explanation floors me.
“Now you’re saying you’re not human?”
He shrugs. “How do you think I recovered so quickly from getting hit by that bus?”
As if that was enough to logically conclude he was some kind of winged human. For some reason, I start to feel angry. “I don’t know.” I throw my hands in the air. “Maybe I thought you had some kind of special power. From your hotness. That’s just as logical as what’s going on here, isn’t it?”
“Right.” He nods sarcastically. “The hotness superpower. Works every time.”
Had he really just given me attitude?
“Look, I’m not an idiot. In fact, I’m pretty damn smart.” My temper rises. “Logically, I concluded your miraculous recovery was due to normal factors. Your general physique. Your height, your musculature, or maybe the bus wasn’t going as fast as I thought it was. What else was I supposed to think?”
He puts up his hands for peace. “I understand. I’m sorry, we’re just in a bad situation, and I’m not exactly a people person. But we really do need to leave. When more of those—things—come back, I don’t want you to be here. I can’t die, but you can.”
He can’t die? And he has wings?
I’m starting to feel light-headed. The adrenaline from my fight is fading fast, and nothing about this situation fits into the logical world I’ve come to understand.
He curses. “What do you need to take with us?”
I can’t find words.
He grabs my shoulders and gives me a shake. “Come on! We’ve got a few minutes, at best.”
“What’s your name?”
“My name?” He gives a startled laugh. “Brion.”
“Fine. Stop shaking me, Brion.” I meet his gaze. “The answer is everything. I need to take everything. It’s taken years and a small fortune to build this lab.”
“You didn’t know my name?” His expression is angry.
I give him a level stare. “I think a better question is, how do you know mine? You never asked for it.”
“I was assigned to protect you,” he responds without hesitation.
“I’ll have to answer that later.” He looks around. “I can’t carry everything, so point out what you can. They’ll get the rest.”
I look around frantically, finally realizing that all my bravery will have been for nothing if I can’t snap out of my shock. What can we take that would allow me to continue my research? I grab a large box. I begin stuffing things inside, my laptop, workstation, one of each of the sensors and scopes.
As I’m filling the box, I ask, “What are those things, and why are they after me?”
He looks at the door worriedly. “Can we discuss this later?”
As if he has something better to be doing.
“Can we discuss it now?”
He groans exasperatedly and looks up at the ceiling. “I don’t know why they’re after you. You tell me.”
I shrug. Whatever he doesn’t know about my research I’m not going to tell him. He saved me, but I still don’t know who he is. “I have no idea.”
“Well, from the view in the window, they really seemed to want your laptop.”
I look up and three more of the strange men have walked in the door. The first throws an alien-looking dagger at me. It’s green and giving off golden smoke.
I see a flash of feathers, and the dagger bounces away from me.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, his face inches from my own.
I want to. But…he has wings. And we just met last night. “I don’t know,” I whisper honestly.
Disappointment flashes behind his eyes. “Fuck. It doesn’t matter.” Then he grabs me and the box and jumps out the window.
I’m sure I’m screaming as we plummet toward the ground but there’s no sound. The wind sucks it away. We pick up speed, faster and faster, until he swoops up with a triumphant cry just before we hit the ground.
I have no breath to speak, so just hang there, suspended from his arm wrapped around my waist. His other arm is still holding the box with my research.
We fly north, out of the city. Now that we’re flying at a reasonable speed, there’s very little wind and his body radiates heat. It’s almost as though he has an invisible bubble around us.
I glance up at him. “Where are we going?”
“How do you know?”
“Because it’s mine. It’s where I rest when I have missions on Earth.”
After another thirty minutes I see mountains ahead, and we start to gain altitude. We fly over pines and, as he slows, I can see a clearing ahead. He lands perfectly on the porch of a decent-sized cabin.
I turn back to see him furling his wings.
I can feel my face redden. I can feel the questions within my logical brain. I need to know what he is. “Can I…see you?”
His gold-flecked gaze meets mine and he’s silent for a moment. Then he looks down. “All right.”
He unfurls his wings to their fullest extent and I take in a breath. He’s magnificent. His wingspan must be at least eight feet. His golden skin glows in the morning sunlight. I walk around him and see that each of his feathers is dipped in some kind of metal.
“Steel?” I ask, running my finger along a feather.
“Titanium. For battle.”
“So I’ve observed.”My voice is dry. I become bolder, running my fingers through his feathers. They are the lightest, softest things I’ve ever felt. Like silk. The ends are heavier due to the metal coating.
“Can you feel that?”
“Of course. They are a part of me.” he takes a breath. “And I seem to react to you…more than usual.”
The logical part of my mind can’t believe I’m here with an angel.
I finish my tour around his body and stand before him again. For some reason, I can’t meet his gaze. “Thank you. You’re beautiful.”
He puts his fingers beneath my chin, raising my eyes to meet his. “You are beautiful, too.” From the sincerity in his voice, I can tell he believes it.
He furls his wings behind him and, to my surprise; they keep furling until they disappear. When he steps in front of me to open the door, I see that two enormous scars run up the center of his back, the length of his shoulder blades. I wonder if it hurts him to take his wings out and put them away.
The scars look painful. More painful than the intricate network of tattoos that cover his chest, upper back and shoulders.
When we get inside, he turns and puts his hand on a sigil on the inside of the door. Nothing visible happens, but I can almost feel something protecting the house.
He walks across the room to a bookcase and pulls one of the books out. It pops open, and I see a walk-in safe behind it. He opens it and puts the box just inside.
Then he turns and gestures to the large, L-shaped sofa. I sit down, and he follows me. As he makes room for himself next to me, I detect the faintest scents of pine and sandalwood. Great. Now he smells good, too?
“You’re taking this all rather well.”
“Am I?” I ask, meeting his gaze. “I don’t feel like I am.”
“You aren’t freaking out.”
“I am a little bit.” I release a deep breath. Maybe that’s because I’m with you. Being with him makes me feel safe.
He gives me a small smile. “A lot of people would be crying, screaming, maybe running around in circles.”
I shrug. “I was almost killed today. But…at least I feel safer now.”
His smile widens. “I’m glad.”
“But if you don’t mind me asking, what are you?”
He hesitates before slowly giving me my answer. “Like you’ve probably guessed, I’m an angel.”
I digest his answer. “If that’s true, you’re not exactly what I expected. There’s no halo. And a lot less singing.”
“I’m not that kind of angel,” he answers, frowning. “I’m a Warrior Angel. Michael recruited me for his army.”
“We’re guardians. Of certain people, of humanity.” His gaze turns to me. “What I don’t know is why I’m guarding you.”
I shift uncomfortably. “What you’re saying might be true, but I need you to prove a lot more to me before I tell you about my research.”
“Ah,” he smirks, “so they’re after you for your research.”
I scowl. “Well, yes, I figure that’s the only possible reason.”
He spreads out his hands, looking at them. “I can’t prove any more than what I have. I just saved you from five demons and flew you from your lab to my safe house. What more do you want?”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry. Not yet.”
He stares at me for long moments. Then he rises with a nod. “Are you hungry? I believe we missed lunch.”
I follow him into the oversize kitchen. It looks like it’s made for a professional chef. “I guess you do like to cook.”
“An astute observation.” He begins to pull out ingredients from the fridge and cupboards. Then he glances over his shoulder. “Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Hot chocolate?”
“You have hot chocolate?” I try to keep the eagerness out of my voice.
“Only if you like it made from scratch.”
“You make it from scratch? I didn’t even know that was possible.”
“It is,” he laughs. “It most certainly is.”
Being at a cabin in the woods with an angel is the most surreal experience of my life. His cabin is immaculate. He can cook. He’s insanely hot. And he’s immortal.
I watch him cook, and it’s obvious that he’s used this kitchen many, many times. He moves around it like I work in my lab. He knows every utensil, nook, and cranny by heart. He still hasn’t put on a shirt and I watch his muscles ripple as he reaches, stirs, and taste tests.
I realize that the invention and research I’ve been so single-mindedly focused on has prevented me from having this. Someone I want to be distracted by. I’ve stayed with Doug because he’s undemanding. He’s also focused on his own work to the exclusion of all else.
But a part of me would like to have this kind of life. Weekends at a cabin. Breakfast and conversation every morning. I can imagine it.
How can such a short time with this man have me thinking about these things?
We eat chicken cordon bleu by candlelight as the sun sets over the far mountains. Almost like a date. Of course, the food is delicious.
We don’t speak until we’re finished and sitting back, sipping our wine. “If this is your afterlife, you must love it.”
He shakes his head. “This is the first time in a long time I’ve actually sat back and had dinner with someone like this. I’m usually guarding someone, chasing demons, or fighting.”
“It sounds unappealing. Like a full-time job you can’t get out of.”
He nods. “It definitely isn’t what I expected. My parents were Catholic. I went to church. It’s not like the stories—there’s no happily-ever-after. Here I am, an angel, and all I’ve had since death is war and pain. I haven’t even been dead that long and I’m already sick of it. And I can’t die anymore, so that’s pretty much all I expect for the rest of eternity.”
I wonder what he’d believed would happen after he died. I never went to church, never believed in a man in the sky with a white beard and a robe.
But having an angel fly in the window was making me seriously reconsider my beliefs. However, the future he speaks of isn’t one I’m sure I’d like.
The pain in his eyes is real, and it makes me want to console him. I stand up and begin to clear the dishes.
So does he. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you this. Especially not as your guardian. I’ve just never had someone see me before. It makes me want to talk to you.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. You can talk to me. I want you to.”
Our gazes meet, and his eyes pull me in once more.
Before I know it, I’m caressing the side of his face with my hand. He brings his lips to mine so gently that I almost can’t tell where the kiss begins. Softly, tasting, testing. But when our tongues meet, it’s electric.
He groans and thrusts his tongue into my mouth, pulling me into the rhythm. The kiss turns hungry as our tongues swirl against each other. His arms wrap around me, holding me against him. This kiss is stronger, deeper than any I’ve experienced. It’s fueled by a soul-deep need that I’ve never felt before.
I’ve always been shy, but something about him draws me out. I feel his loneliness, his emotion. It’s more than physical desire—and I find myself matching it.
I bring my hands up and tangle them in his hair, holding his head to mine. I can tell he loves it because he groans again and his hands move down to cup my hips.
Finally, he breaks away. We’re both panting, and his face is slightly flushed. In the back of my mind, I know I should be thinking of other things—of those demons and why they want my invention—but I can’t. I simply want more of him.
This time it’s my turn to cry out as he lifts me up and wraps my legs around his waist. His lips travel down to my neck and I tangle my fingers in his hair again.
It’s so good. And we don’t even have our clothes off yet.
Heaven help me when we do.
His mouth moves down to give my nipple an openmouthed kiss through my shirt. Then he stops abruptly.
I open my eyes.
It isn’t like his normal golden color, and it’s faint, but it’s a definite glow.
I run my fingers down his shoulders to his arms. “You’re beautiful.”
He frowns. “This has never happened before.”
Maybe that’s a good thing.
His eyes blaze as he turns toward me. It’s definitely a good thing.
I still. “Your lips didn’t move.”
He looks thoughtful. “Neither did yours.”
I shake my head. “You’re talking in my mind, now?”
He’s silent for a moment, then speaks. “You can’t hear me now, can you?”
I listen, but there’s nothing.
“That’s interesting. I’m used to speaking telepathically with other angels. But it’s never happened with a human. I wondered how long it would last.”
“You think it’s just from our…romantic connection?” I felt worried that he could speak to me telepathically, but now I feel kind of sad that it’s gone.
His mouth quirks up at the corners. “Want to try again and find out?”
“I really, really want to. But I don’t think I can sleep knowing those things are after me. Are we really safe here?”
He holds me closer. “There are armaments all over the cabin. Trust me, we’re safe.”
The sincerity in his voice reassures me. I force myself to relax. “I hope you’re right.” I hesitate. “The thing is, I don’t know if I’ll feel safe until I know what they want my research for. It doesn’t seem like something immortal beings would be interested in.”
His brows crease. “Why don’t you tell me about it? Maybe I can figure it out.”
I open my mouth, then close it again. I haven’t told anyone outside the scientific community about my research. Few would understand it. Even fewer would believe it.
“Okay.” I begin to explain slowly, “Since I was a little girl, I’ve been able to sense strange things all around me. For a long time I didn’t know what they were, only that they bothered me. When I got older, I had a suspicion. In college, I had access to a lab and could actually conduct a few experiments. I finally confirmed what I suspected. What I was sensing was actually holes in the fabric of space time. Like little black holes.”
The interest in his expression heightens considerably. “Really.”
“Really.” I affirm. “I noticed that they’ve increased in number as I’ve grown up. For some reason they bother me. So, for the past ten years I’ve been researching ways to make them go away.”
His entire body stiffens. “And…”
“And I’ve found one.”
He lets me go and jumps up. “I know why they’re after you.”
From the way his entire body tensed, I’m not sure I want to know. “Why?”
“Gillian, those holes are the very reason for my existence. They are the holes demons come through to get here from the hell dimension. If you know how to close them, you’ll prevent them from coming to Earth.”
The implication of his words stuns me.
“If this is true,” he says gravely, “you’re right. We aren’t going to sleep tonight. And you are going to need more protection than just me. We need to gather the entire army. This changes everything.”
Please consider leaving a review on Amazon or any other reader site or blog you frequent. A preview of Part 2, Angel Betrayed follows the About the Author page, followed by a preview of To Touch A Warrior.
Immortal Angel has lived a hundred lifetimes all in one. She’s a mother, a sister, a daughter, a wife, and a best friend. She’s traveled the real world, enjoying what our three-dimensional reality has to offer. She’s hiked the stairs inside the Eiffel Tower. She’s watched a Shakespearean play in a grassy clearing outside of Cambridge, and she’s ridden a ferry to Ireland. In Australia, she cuddled koalas, in China, she cuddled pandas, and in the Middle East, she cuddled camels. And every time she opened a book, she entered a world beyond this one, one where the only limits are the imagination.
So many lifetimes of adventures have inspired her to reach beyond this planet to the stars above and to worlds rooted in fantasy. Her romances in space are meant to take her readers on their own adventures, imagining new and exciting place. With hot men. And maybe a few sexy aliens too.
You can follow Immortal Angel on Facebook, Twitter @ImmortalAngel22, and her blog .
I jump off the sofa and run to the door, adding extra power to the armaments around the cabin. If what Gillian is saying is correct, every demon in hell is going to be after her. We need to get downstairs so I can call the only two angels I trust for something this serious: Cas and Zakiel.
I turn back to see my little scientist still sitting on the sofa, staring at me openmouthed.
“What are you doing?” Her voice is incredulous.
I stride over and grab her hand. “We need to hurry.”
She resists my attempt to pull her to her feet. “I thought you said this place is safe.”
Dammit. I sigh. “Gillian, this place is safe from a normal demon attack. But if you’ve found a way to close the portals from the underworld—and they know about it—this is not going to be a normal demon attack.”
“Why is it that when I’m with you, the entire world changes every few hours?”
“The world hasn’t changed,” I mutter, pulling her to her feet. “Only your perception of it.”
“Are you really trying to discuss metaphysical philosophy with me?” she asks exasperatedly. “You know I’m a scientist, right?”
I kiss her forehead. “Yes. You’re a scientist who feels black holes that open from the hell dimension. That alone should shake your scientific foundations.”
She puts up her hands in surrender. “Touché. What kind of demon attack is it going to be?”
I turn away. The kind where they open a humongous portal, suck the whole damn cabin into the hell dimension, and thousands of demons spend the rest of eternity figuring out how to get into it. “Don’t worry. I have backup.” I’m not about to lose her now.
She sways against me for a moment, then her nose wrinkles. “Are we on the run now? Because at some point I should probably stop by my house and get more clothing. And the rest of my research.”
“The rest of your research?” I can feel a headache coming on. I haven’t had one since I was human, but this little scientist may just bring one on yet.
“Yes. No one can recreate my research without the equipment in my lab, the USB I carry on me, and the research at my house.”
I rub my forehead. “Great.”
“It’s in the terms of my contract. I can’t keep all of the information and equipment in the same place.”
I pin her with my stare. “Really. I’m becoming very interested in who’s funding your research.”
“You know, if demons really are after me, we should probably go back to the lab and get my invention.”
I’m almost afraid to ask. “What invention?”
“The one that actually closes the portals.”
Can angels get migraines? I feel the edges of my vision start to waiver. “You not only found a way to close the portals, but you built a device to do it?”
For the first time, she looked smug. “Yes, I did. It took six months to get all of the pieces together, and I just completed it three days ago. It’s really big, so I didn’t ask you bring it earlier. I just brought the plans so I could re-create it. But it takes quite a few specialty parts to build it so if we have more angels and can use a portal, it might be best just to bring it with us.”
I grab her hand and spring toward the bookcase. “You know, Gillian, you and I are going to have to have a talk. About information that needs to be shared. And when.”
Brion almost hurtles toward the bookcase, yanking the book out. The bookcase pops open and he ushers me inside before him. He shuts it behind us and places his hand on it. A green light seems to emanate from between his hand and the door. This time, the green light flashes out over the door in all directions, and I can feel the strange force again.
Brion might say that he has backup, but his actions are telling me this is a big deal. Very big.
He flips a switch at the top of the staircase and I’m surprised to see bright white light flooding the space below. I’m even more surprised when we reach the bottom of the stairs. Computer screens span the entire far wall with a long table that runs beneath them. There’s surveillance equipment, what looks like heavy-duty communications equipment, and some devices I’ve never seen before. The rest of the walls are lined with bookcases and there are two long tables that function as work space on either side of the room.
The screens are already on. One holds a map of the Earth with red and white dots.
He doesn’t bother looking at them, but grabs my hand and pulls me around the staircase to a door beneath it. He opens it and ushers me inside. We cramp ourselves into the tight space and he closes the door behind us. It’s pitch-black for a moment, but then I see the outline of his hand on the wall in front of us. A keypad appears, and he types a ten-digit code into it. The wall slides back with a whoosh.
We crawl out into a tall but compact room. Weapons of all shapes and sizes line the walls. One wall has lit cubbyholes with stones, pendants, rings, and other artifacts.
“All of this is yours?” In the close quarters, I’m aware once more that his brown eyes are flecked with gold, and his skin seems to shimmer. I want to touch him, to run my fingers over him again, but I force myself to resist. I clench my fists.
He shrugs and his exotic scent seems to fill the tiny space.
Get your mind on the plan, Gillian.
“Some of it,” he answers. “The rest I inherited. Or stole.” He takes a pendant off the wall and puts it around my neck, and puts a stone in my pocket. Then he goes to the wall in front of us that holds two more daggers, similar to one the demon had used.
“Those look alien.”
“They aren’t from this world,” he agrees. “Angels protect multiple worlds, even though I’ve never been to them. Some artifacts from other worlds make their way to Earth.” He holds out the dagger for me.
I hold up my hands to ward it off. “I don’t think I want that.”
“Yes, you do. It’s a Galadrian dagger. You might think using it is horrible, but believe me, a demon taking over your body is worse.”
I take the dagger.
He hands me a belt with a leather sheath and helps me to hook it around my waist. Then, he grabs an assortment of weapons for himself, sliding a pendant over his head. It lies against his bare chest and I find myself wanting to touch it. With a gentle hand on the small of my back, he guides me back out into the main basement.
He brushes by me, caressing my hip as he goes to the communications device. He flips a switch and a feminine voice answers in a language I don’t understand. He speaks back in the same language for a moment, then flips the switch off.
“Who was that?”
“Our angelic messaging service. She’ll call Cas and Zakiel to meet me.”
“I thought you have telepathy. Can’t you just call them with your mind?”
He shakes his head. “Not typically. We try to stay fairly well shielded from each other, or we’d always be in each other’s thoughts. Unless it’s an emergency. It takes a lot of emotion to use our minds like that.”
“Really.” I pause. “Isn’t this an emergency?”
He pins me with a level stare. “You’ll know when it’s an emergency.”
I don’t have time to think about it, because at that instant a glowing portal opens in the corner of the room and an angel steps through. He has short, curly dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes. He’s shirtless and his wings are out. Black jeans and combat boots complete his ensemble. He looks around the same age as Brion, but his demeanor is slightly older, more serious.
Do angels hold stock in Levi’s, or what? And what’s with all the tattoos? Ink swirls over him in much the same manner as it does Brion, across his chest, shoulders, and arms.
“Cas.” Brion steps forward and clasps arms with him.
But before they can continue the exchange, a second portal opens and an angel wearing black slacks and black leather dress shoes steps out. He looks noticeably different than the first two. This angel has straight white-blond hair down to the center of his back and green eyes. He’s thinner and taller than the others, his facial structure more delicate. He has the same golden skin, but his wings look as though they’re dipped in gold rather than titanium. And his tattoos are fundamentally different. They’re sharper, and the language seems almost alien.
Brion clasps arms with him as he did before. “Zakiel.”
I’d thought the basement was large, but the two new angels dwarf the small space. They furl their wings, but don’t draw them in like Brion does.
I know they have wings so it must be easier to be shirtless. But I still find it awkward to be near three enormous, tattooed, half-dressed warriors. Even if I do have a dagger of my own. I caress the hilt.
Zakiel looks at me and asks a question in the language I can’t understand.
Brion turns back to me. “This is Gillian,” he says in English. “Gillian, this is Zakiel.” Then he points to the angel with dark hair and blue jeans. “And this is Cas.”
Cas gives a wave and a small smile. “Hello.”
Zakiel switches to English, following his lead. “Why have you called us here?”
Brion gestures to me. “Gillian was my target. She’s a scientist.” He says it almost proudly, placing a hand on the small of my back.
I turn to him and raise my eyebrows. “Target?”
He shrugs and whispers in my ear. “Sorry, it’s the lingo.”
I blush. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Unexpectedly, he smiles back.
“What’s going on here?” Zakiel says, pointing a finger from me to him.
Brion shrugs, but his gaze runs from the top of my head down to my toes, warming me to my core.
My blush deepens.
Zakiel’s eyebrows fly up and his mouth opens in surprise. “Are you… attracted to this human?”
“Yep.” Brion grins. “I was surprised at first, too.”
“I haven’t even looked at a woman in the two centuries since I died.” Cas’s face is chagrined and he gazes down at the crotch of his jeans sadly. “I thought becoming an angel meant we didn’t have human urges anymore.”
“I don’t know why, but from the first moment I laid eyes on her, I’ve been drawn to her.”
I stare at Brion first, surprised by the revelation. How could such an incredible man not have desires? And what was it about me that brought those urges back to him? I feel a spark of pride.
Then, my gaze turns to the other angels and a strange sadness takes over. Angels or not, it’s a shame these beautiful men lost something so precious when they died. True love is a gift.
After a moment, Zakiel mutters, “This can’t be good.”
He looks at Cas for backup, but the other angel merely shrugs.
Brion continues, pointedly ignoring the byplay. “She’s invented a device that shuts the portals from the underworld. Someone downstairs found out about it and put a hit on her.”
His words seem to suck the air from the room. Shock drains the color from the other angels’ faces. For a long moment, no one speaks.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Zakiel runs his fingers through his very long, white-blond hair and starts to pace.
“ Are—are you sure?” Cas asks.
Brion levels him with a stare. “I wouldn’t have called you both here if I wasn’t serious.”
After another couple of awkward seconds, Cas curses. “Every demon and their mother will be trying to kill her now. And get their hands on the device.”
I can feel my knees starting to tremble slightly. But Brion’s next words devastate me.
“Please. I need your help.”
It isn’t what he says, but how he says it. I get the feeling he would kneel if he had to. The other two angels straighten.
“Anything,” Cas answers immediately.
Zakiel gazes at Brion thoughtfully for a moment, then nods his assent.
Gratitude rushes over me. Brion was right when he said we weren’t alone. But then, for the first time, I begin to feel real fear about the final outcome of my situation. If two angels are willing to drop everything and help you, a voice whispers in my mind, things must be really bad.
Zakiel steps forward. “You have our help, Brion. What is your plan?”
“We need to go back and get the rest of her research from her apartment. Then we need to get to the lab to pick up her invention.”
“How long do you think we have before all of hell descends on us?” Cas looks between them.
Brion shrugs. “I’m betting we have hours. At best.”
I wonder what all of hell descending on us will look like. A sudden thought occurs to me. “If you’re right, and they’re tracking me, do you think they’ll go to my apartment? Keith is still there.”
Brion lets out a stream of curses. “I forgot about him. Yes, we need to get him out of there.”
“I left my phone at the lab so I guess we’ll have to tell him in person.”
“Then let’s get on it.” Zakiel looks over at the staircase and a wide smile spreads across his face. “But before we go, I’m thinking we’ll need some of the goodies you’re hiding under that staircase.”
DID YOU ENJOY THIS PREVIEW OF ANGEL BETRAYED (AN ANGEL WARRIOR – PART II?
You can find all of Part Two available on Amazon here. Please don’t forget to leave a review if you enjoyed this work! Thank you for reading!
The private spacecraft touched down in the ship yard with a familiar groan. Hannah swung her booted feet off the oversized chair in front of her, and pressed her palms against the window. A few people outside had turned to stare.
Her dad just had to travel in style! Yeah, the small craft moved faster and smoother than most, but just the sight of it would tell everyone that someone uncommonly wealthy and powerful travelled inside.
Which was exactly the opposite of what she wanted.
At least mother hadn’t come. The woman had been a sobbing mess. The academy was already like a ghost, its memories haunting her mother with every step. Seeing her daughter there… Hannah couldn’t even imagine how badly that would’ve ended.
But how to deal with her father?
She leaned back in her chair and regarded him. Here goes nothing!
“It might be better if you waited in the ship,” she suggested in her least argumentative voice.
Her father lowered his computer interface, one brow raised in annoyance. “Do you think I travelled with you all the way here simply to-- how did you put it? Wait in the ship?”
Disappointment flared. A true parent would’ve understood that an adult child deserved independence. Even on one of the most important days of her life, it was ‘the commander’ escorting her to the academy, not her father. She should’ve known the moment he’d donned his deep blue uniform, perfectly starched and pressed as always.
You did know, her brain insisted, but the ache in her heart said she’d hoped she was wrong.
“Please?” she forced a smile.
He raised his interface once more, so only his neatly trimmed, steel-gray hair peeked over the top of it. “I pulled more strings than you can possibly imagine to allow you to attend The Starflight Academy under your mother’s maiden name. Even though I consider it an insult to my family. I will not act as your chauffeur, too.”
Hannah took a deep breath, fighting the urge to explode. “There isn’t much point in all of that if we enter the school together- now, is there?” she challenged.
He glared over the top of his computer. “If I had it my way, you’d either be attending the academy with guards at your side, around the clock, or I’d simply assign you a position on my ship. And before you interrupt me, yes, I do admire your desire to follow in my footsteps. After all your training already, I think it requires a certain kind of person to be willing to attend this challenging of a program, simply because your drive to never settle for less.” He paused. “That’s a Stowe family trait I might add.”
His praise, even wrapped in anger, stunned her. Perhaps he was starting to think of how much he was going to miss her when she was gone. Regardless about how much he mumbled about his ‘rebellious’ child.
“BUT,” he added, squashing her hopes with one word. “I also think your ego is outweighing your intelligence. Being my child is dangerous. The fact that you want to pretend otherwise doesn’t make the truth of your situation any different. By going here, you are putting yourself and me at risk.”
It took her a second to answer. And when she did, her words came out dangerously calm. “One day I’m going to be the captain of a class ten ship, and there is nothing in the world anyone can do to stop me.”
Her father didn’t respond. His gaze was already back on his screen.
Frustrated, she tapped her fingers on her leg, feeling precious seconds ticking away. She needed to change his mind before it was too late. She was twenty-one god-damn years old, she didn’t need her daddy to drop her off, and she certainly didn’t need the Fleet Admiral ruining any chance she had at a normal academy experience.
“We both know why I don’t want to be connected to you here.” The idea of living in her father’s shadow forever made her feel as if the walls were closing in around her. “But you’ve got to admit, the less people who know I’m your daughter, the safer I’ll be.”
There was a moment of silence. “This topic is closed.” Then, after a moment, he added. “We both know how gravely you want to be free of me, but remember, your people still need you. Whenever I call, your service to us will come above all else.”
Like he would ever let her forget.
She touched the small scar just below her hairline. “I remember.”
Looking back out her window, she stared at the crowded dock. Spaceships of all shapes and sizes had come from many worlds to drop the next class of students at the prestigious academy. She wanted to be anonymous among them. To create a new life, a new reputation for herself based upon her own merit.
At the same time, it wasn’t smart to push her father. She’d learned a long time ago that if she did, he would simply say no, and there wasn’t enough begging, pleading, or threatening in the world that would change his mind. But that left her few options in a situation like this.
A lot of people said his decisiveness was one of the many reasons he made such a great commander of the Earth fleet. But it made a lousy quality in a father. He simply didn’t bend. Ever.
“I hope William is here.” Her best friend was the one person who understood her complicated relationship with her father, and she’d missed him fiercely over the past few weeks.
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
She stiffened at her father’s response, not realizing she’d spoken her thoughts aloud.
“It’d take a miracle for him to reach Turonga. Without a private ship, he’d need a great deal of money and a whole lot of luck to find someone able to fly him this far,” he stated, not looking up from whatever he was reading on his computer. “The Academy strives to accept its recruits from families of good-standing. A gardener’s son is hardly—“
“You mean families with money.” Heat rushed over her as anger built.
“Contrary to what you think of me, it isn’t his lack of money that concerns me as much as his race. Chamyions are gutless weasels. His father was a gardener. His father before him was a gardener, and if I was going to make a bet, I’d say this boy will be a gardener, as well. Working on a ship requires a certain… strength of spirit and will that his genetics simply don’t lend themselves to.”
She clenched the plush handles on her seat and leaned forward. “You don’t know him at all. He’ll be here.” She paused only a second, not long enough to stop her words before they came. “Although we could’ve guaranteed it if we’d only allowed him to use our ship.”
He lowered his computer and met her unwavering gaze. “If he can’t make it here on his own, he’ll never pass the test to get in. It would’ve been a waste of all our time.”
She stood. “You just wait—“
“Sit down,” he commanded, his tone no longer that of a father, but a captain. “This isn’t the time for female hysterics.”
Every muscle begged her to do exactly the opposite. Her heart urged her to shatter his computer console against the window. But her mind knew how all of this would end, which was quite badly. He’d probably march her right up to the front door and announce her identity to the entire academy.
With effort, she forced herself to sit.
Her heart pounded. William had to be here! And he had to pass the test! That would show her father he was wrong.
The door to their ship opened and father set his computer down. Rising to his feet, he smoothed the deep blue fabric of his uniform and strode out the door and down the carpeted steps. “Dean Sufters, Professor Walters, how good of you both to meet me here.”
The dean’s voice was grave as she answered back. “Of course. The new recruits will be amazed to see Fleet Admiral Stowe here to greet them.”
Their voices grew quieter. Glancing back through the window, she saw them walking across the spaceship dock. The dean raised her bony arms in one direction, and then the other, pointing out things around the docking yard.
Now is my chance.
Grabbing her duffel bag, she sprang out of her seat and down the steps. Instantly, the commotion of the dock sent her pulse jumping in excitement. Engines roared as spaceships both landed and took off. Airspace Marshal’s in flashing yellow clothes directed traffic. Chattering students walked the path leading into The Academy, causing their own sort of chaos.
It hit her, she’d never felt more at home anywhere in her life.
Darting toward the wide pedestrian path, she effortlessly avoided baggage cars; all while kept her eyes on the skies. Just in case. She didn’t want to be the woman nearly squashed by a spaceship. Not on her first day.
An Airspace Marshal glared at her, blocking her way. “Where’s your escort? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be running through the dock unaccompanied—“
“Apologies!” she shouted, ignoring his warning.
She didn’t slow until she stepped onto the glowing blue surface of the path. Glancing back at her father, his attention was completely consumed by whatever conversation he was having. Good. But it wasn’t until she was out of his sight that she finally took a deep breath and eased into a walk.
Her father would be angry when he discovered she’d left, but he wouldn’t do anything about it. Because if he did, everyone would know that the great Fleet Admiral Stowe might be able to effortlessly control the skies, but not his daughter. Never her.
She was free for the first time in her life! Or at least as free as she could ever be. Her father would have eyes everywhere, watching her. But this was not like being back at their mansion, or on board her father’s ship the Allure. She’d finally get to interact with people whose jobs and lives didn’t depend on her father.
And there would be lots of other people around her age. What would that even be like?
Stopping, she looked up at the towering school building. Made from a pristine white stone, it was both beautiful and extremely strong. It had endured five attacks over its three hundred years, and although she knew a few sections had been rebuilt, the rest showed no signs of any of it. At twelve stories tall, with glittering windows, it was everything she’d always dreamed of. And more.
This is what she’d been working her entire life for. In one year from today, she’d be graduating from the best flight academy in the universe. After that, she wouldn’t be given a Level Ten ship right off the bat, but eventually, she’d be the third woman in history to every command such a large vessel.
She smiled. That was the plan. All she had to do was stay focused.
A ship flew overhead, but the sound it made was a soft hum, unlike anything she’d heard before. It landed lightly, like a bird settling upon a branch, rather than a giant mechanism touching down. Her jaw dropped. It was a living ship.
Bright green and the size of a small building, twisting vines made up its hull. There were windows and weapons woven into the outside, a seamless combination of technology and nature. Tiny white flowers sprung in intricate patterns, giving it a beauty that lacked in the ships around it.
She took a step towards it. Only Keltairs could fly a living ship. They were given to a child when they reached puberty and grew with the child, if given enough care. She’d studied them extensively, since peace with the Keltairs never seemed to last for long. And her father had taught her- it was important to always know one’s enemy.
But what was a Keltair doing at the academy?
She turned instantly at the familiar voice, all thoughts of the unique ship gone with her excitement. “William!”
He grinned and started to jog towards her down the path. His thin body moved almost awkwardly as he ran. He slowed a bit, raising one hand to push back his dark glasses as they slid down his nose. His pale green skin looked paler beneath the harsh sunlight of Turonga. For an instant, she wondered why he wasn’t wearing his floppy hat over his bald head to help protect his sensitive skin. But as he drew closer, his widening smile pushed away her concerns.
“You’re here! I’ve been waiting for you to arrive.”
She embraced him. “I’m so glad you made it.”
Tears choked her throat as they clung to each other for a long moment, before she pulled back.
His face was flushed. “I told you nothing would stop me.”
“And, you’re officially in?”
He pulled a neatly folded paper from the pocket of his frayed shirt and opened it gently. “I just got the notice.”
She hugged him again, crushing the paper between them. People said the gardener’s son was over-reaching when he became her unofficial training partner in preparation for the academy. But she’d known better.
In her life, she’d come across many different people, and she knew he had it in him to be a great engineer on a spaceship. So, she’d made him her partner whenever she trained at the mansion, teaching him all she learned from her ‘official’ tutors aboard the Allure.
Even knowing that he’d never be recruited for the academy, he’d focused on learning everything he needed to know to become a spaceship engineer. He’d have to join the one percent of people who arrived the week before sign-up to be tested. If he passed, he’d be given a full scholarship to attend. She’d spent the past three weeks wondering if he’d not only made it safely to Turonga, but also if he’d passed the test. The fact that he’d done both was almost miraculous.
“I’m so proud of you.” She squeezed his arms, then released him, shifting her bag. “Do you know what group you’ll be in?”
He avoided her gaze. “The Hawks.”
It took her a second to recover from her surprise. “That’s… that’s amazing!”
The hawks were the most elite group of trainees. She’d been placed in it with ease, but from a young age she’d spent day in and day out on a Level 10 spaceship learning the ropes of her future career firsthand. The Hawks were groomed for such success from the time they were born. The fact that William had gotten into it… well, it was yet another miracle.
“Yeah,” he said. “It was a surprise to me, too.”
“Wow,” she pushed a strand of her long, black hair out of her face. “Has a walk-on ever entered the Hawks before?”
He shrugged. “Not sure.”
“Well, we’ll have to celebrate for sure.” She tried to hide her shock with pleasure. “And now we’ll have at least our core classes together.”
He nodded, staring down at his feet.
A sound from behind made her turn around. The live ship had opened. The most incredible man she’d ever seen stepped out. His shirt was unbuttoned, showing off his impossibly muscular chest. Even his stomach was covered in hard, tanned muscles.
Something within her clenched. She didn’t know what a human was doing coming out of a Keltair ship, and she didn’t care.
He was big, bigger than any man she’d seen before. His dark hair, left a little shaggy, and his scruff of beard gave him the undeniable look of a man who knew what he wanted and simply took it. She bit her lip. Alpha males were a particular weakness of hers, and this man set off every alarm she had while he simultaneously drew her toward him. Like gravity.
His gaze snapped up to meet hers. The world melted away. Need flashed in his dark eyes. His jaw tensed. She could sense his physical response to her. It was an electric current running between them. He strode towards her purposely.
“Hello?” William stepped in front of her, trying to get her attention.
She almost pushed him out of the way. “Move.”
Anger flashed across his face. “Too busy checking out the eye candy to notice that Fleet Admiral Stowe is heading straight for you?”
It was like a face full of cold water. She looked behind her, and sure enough, her father was heading in her direction. No one else would’ve noticed the flicker of annoyance in his eyes, but she knew, and she had no intention of dealing with it.
They hurried towards the academy building. She allowed herself one last chance to look back at Mr. Muscles. His eyes were locked on her as he stared around a Keltair who’d blocked his path.
Good. That was dangerous. She’d promised herself no more than a one night stand or two to get herself through the academy. And that man didn’t fit the bill. He was the sort of guy she’d want to spend weeks on, exploring every inch of him. She’d want to know what turned him on. She’d want to bend him to her will and leave him begging for satisfaction.
She felt herself growing wet.
Shit. She was glad she’d brought her trusty vibrator, Turbo. Otherwise, this year was going to be the most frustrating one of her life. But she could manage, with Turbo’s help, just as long as she stayed as far away as possible from Mr. Muscles.
But for some reason, she was sure the real thing looked a hell of a lot better than something she’d have to leave charging by her bed each night.
Liam wanted his father, Gurgo, to get the hell out of the way. The woman he’d just seen wanted to be fucked as badly as he wanted to fuck her. He could sense her needs from across the ship yard, and damn if he didn’t want to satisfy them.
“Are you listening to me?” the large Keltair invaded his space, puffing his chest out in a show of dominance.
Liam knew better than to back down. He let his gaze run from the two white horns sharpened to deadly points on his head, down to his deep brown face. The silver eyes that stared back at him grew paler in anger.
“I heard you the first time.”
His father grasped his shoulders, squeezing them so hard Liam had to fight to ignore the growing pain. “This human academy is a dangerous place to be. Do you understand me? You have grown into a man, but you are not yet ready to Bond with a female. This place cares nothing for your unique needs as a Keltair. They will throw you in with their wanton females and rely on your own control.”
Staring into his father’s eyes, he didn’t blink. “I have lain with too many females to count. I don’t fear them the way you do.”
His father spat on the ground. “Laying with them is different than being surrounded by them. Understand me well, son of my blood. If you form too close a relationship with any of them, I will have you removed to a Keltair training center. I will not risk you Bonding with a human who will toss you aside and leave you forever weakened, unable to Bond with another. Do you understand?”
He shoved his father’s hands away. “I do not need to be told the obvious or threatened like a youngling.”
They exchanged glares for one long instance before his father growled, “enough! I must pay my respects.” His voice grew harsher. “Not for the last time I’m sure.”
He turned away, heading for the academy.
Liam watched him go. Had there ever been a better father? Not many males would push aside their pride to help their son. Or fight so hard to allow me to train with the humans. Regardless of how his father despised the idea.
Liam took a deep breath, pushing his thoughts aside, and looked back for the female. She was gone.
He closed his eyes and pictured her. Big breasts, a narrow waist, long legs. Her body pleased him in every way. Then, his thoughts strayed to her face. Had he ever seen eyes that color of green before? Never. They drew him in. He wanted to see how they widened with awe as he entered her. He’d grasp her fine mane of black hair and take her deeply.
A ship lifted off noisily beside him, and he clenched his fists. What a time to be growing hard with need. The woman wasn’t even present to please him!
Turning back to his live ship, he reached in and took his bag. Unconsciously, he ran his knuckles along the hard shell of its body. Rest. Grow. I shall be back.
The ship gave a soft hum of acknowledgment.
An Airspace Marshal waved his hands in front of Liam’s face, gesturing for him to move to the path. Liam wrapped one large hand around the side of his throat and drew him so close their breath mixed. The man gave a tiny squawk and shrunk back.
These are humans, not Keltairs. He chided himself.
Against his instincts, he loosed his grip on the man and let him wiggle free. “Continue as you were,” he said, then tried to give a reassuring smile.
The man shot away .
They already think that having a half-Keltair at the academy will be a problem. I need to show them that we’re not all war and death. That peace between our nations is plausible. I need to remember the time before my father took me, the days with mother.
He decided right then and there that he would do better. It would be difficult, but he’d relearn what it was to interact the human way.
When he entered the academy, he was surprised by how large and grand it was. A Keltair would’ve called such a place a useless waste. When they trained, they selected the most dangerous terrains and pitted the males against each other. Mercy was for the weak, and only the strong survived. This place was…dainty. Pretty even.
He hoped he’d made the right choice in coming here. He gritted his teeth. It had to be. If he ever wanted to serve on a ship other than a Keltair war machine, he’d need to graduate from here. And even then, the prejudice against his Keltair half would limit his options.
Unless he proved himself a thousand times over.
He joined a line of students, waiting for their assignments.
A pretty red-head turned around. Her eyes widened, and she spun back around. Not so subtly, she elbowed a petite blonde beside her. The other woman turned, and after the initial shock, let her mouth curve into a smile.
“Hello, I’m Summer.”
He sensed her need, but he felt no stirrings of passion. Which was strange. She was pretty enough, wasn’t she? “Hello.”
“You didn’t tell me your name,” she said, blinking her big lashes slowly.
“L…i…a…m,” she stretched out his name into four syllables, licking her lips. “I like it.”
An officer in black shouted for the next person in line, and the two women flushed with embarrassment.
“Maybe I’ll see you around,” Summer whispered, winked and left.
He watched the two get their assignments with little interest. These women stirred nothing inside of him. Unlike the dark-haired beauty. His muscles tightened. It was the strange woman’s fault. Once he buried himself inside of her, he could move on to the next woman. Like he always did.
“Next!” the officer shouted.
He approached the man and noticed how his annoyed expression faltered. The officer took his papers and typed into his computer. Liam knew the moment he realized that he was part Keltair, the officers lips curled.
“Your assignment is The Hawks. Top floor.” His disgust was poorly concealed. “They’re the best, and usually include our most talented recruits.”
Liam leaned in as he took his papers. “Thank you.”
The man cringed.
As he walked away, Liam felt a spark of pride. Not only hadn’t he grabbed the man’s head and smashed it against the desk, he’d been polite. After eleven years of being under his father’s care, he would slowly remember the ten year old boy who used to cook beside his mother in the kitchen. Who smiled and meant it. He would let the human side of him finally come free, now that he knew that part of him wouldn’t get him killed.
His time with The Academy would be wonderful. He’d find himself again. He’d interact with humans once more. Maybe even make some friends.
And he’d track down the beautiful dark-haired woman and satisfy himself until the tension building inside of him fled.
DID YOU ENJOY THIS PREVIEW OF TO KISS A WARRIOR (An Alien Rogue Romance – Part One)?
You can find all of part one available on Amazon . Please don’t forget to leave a review if you enjoyed this work! Thank you for reading!
Today started like every other day. Get up, go to work at my lab. As a scientist, I work long hours, have no social life, and lately, even my boyfriend has been getting a little creepy. But all that changes when the hottest guy Iâ€™ve ever seen gets hit by a bus in front of my coffee shop. But he doesnâ€™t just walk away without a scratch. He walks straight to my place at the behest of my best friend, in lieu of going to the hospital. And Iâ€™m no doctor. Now that Iâ€™ve got his hot body in my kitchen, can I keep my hands off of it? Even if touching him will start a chain of events putting me at the center of a thousand-year battle between good and evil? **** "Angel Warrior" is Part One of a 5-Part serialized novel. ****