I, Angel

by JC Andrijeski

He felt even more awkward when Asia and Karver shucked off the clothes they wore over their bathing suits, and got into the jacuzzi with the woman who had to be Phoenix X.

  When Asia saw him sitting there, on the bench, or decorative boulder, or whatever the hell it was, she laughed.

  “No,” she said decisively. “Absolutely not. You’re getting in the hot tub, Angel-guy.”

  Dags fought not to grimace.

  Leaning his arms on his thighs, he clasped his hands together, giving Asia a flat look.

  “You know that’s not my name, right?” he said.

  “Did you bring a suit?” she said, ignoring his words. “I texted you. Did you even bother to read it? I texted you to bring a suit.”

  Dags frowned.

  He hadn’t bothered to read it.

  He’d felt the vibration of his phone as he’d been about to climb onto his bike, while he was still pretty focused on escaping Kara and the police parked in his driveway. He glanced at it long enough to see who it was, then pocketed it.

  Hell, he’d already been on his way. She could tell him when he got here.

  Clearly reading Dags’ answer in his facial expression, Asia laughed again.

  She pointed up the wooden stairs.

  “Go. Up the stairs. I already told Veronica to pull a suit from one of the guest rooms for you. I’ll text her to let her know you’re coming up.”

  Dags gave Karver a brief, hard look, then looked back at Asia.

  “No,” he said.

  “The suit won’t be used, Fly Boy,” Karver said, lowering his weight into the hot water and rolling his eyes. “It definitely won’t be one of mine.”

  Dags was tempted to tell the rich, actor fuck that “Fly Boy” wasn’t his name, either, but he was too busy noticing the guy looked like he spent every waking minute in the gym, at least when he wasn’t at some kind of spa or salon. He must dehydrate the hell out of himself, to keep the muscles in his arms and abs that defined.

  Dags was tempted to tell him how unhealthy that was.

  Then he was tempted to tell Asia off about the suit, and to remind her that she wasn’t paying him yet, that she couldn’t order him around like he worked for her.

  In the end, he did neither thing.

  Rising abruptly to his feet, he walked to the staircase and began making his way back up it, heading back to the house.

  He heard Karver say something to Asia as he left, but he didn’t try to discern the words over the jacuzzi’s jets. From the guy’s aura and his tone of voice, Dags already knew Karver was annoyed with Asia for inviting Dags here, and even more annoyed he had to share a jacuzzi with him. Karver thought Asia was treating Dags like a friend, when he should be treating him like an employee.

  Or a scam-artist, maybe.

  Perversely, it made Dags want to get into that jacuzzi after all.

  It wasn’t until he reached the upper deck that it occurred to him he hadn’t so much as glanced at the girl in the green bikini top after they’d first made eye contact. He had no idea what she was thinking, but from a purely social-etiquette perspective, he’d gone from acting eccentric verging on bizarre around her, to being openly rude.

  Gritting his teeth at the thought, he again contemplated bailing.

  He’d already had a guy break into his house and die tonight. He’d acquired a new dog. He’d slept weirdly, and probably not enough. He was still covered in bruises from the night before. He hadn’t eaten dinner.

  Some tacos right now would not be amiss.

  He could grab some on the way home.

  The last thing he needed was to cater to some actress’s whims around slumming it with a weirdo private eye for the night. Was this her way of saying “thank you” for him saving her life? Treating him like some kind of bizarre party favor?

  Or was she just bored?

  Maybe she liked winding up Karver, or maybe she wanted Karver for herself, and was throwing Dags into the mix to disrupt whatever the previous dynamic had been.

  Either way, Dags wasn’t finding it much of a reward.

  It felt more like work. Work he wasn’t getting paid for.

  Deciding he was overthinking the whole thing, and realizing he had no intention of leaving, not until he got a chance to ask his questions, he resigned himself to not fully understanding whatever was going on with the three of them.

  He didn’t need to know.

  He just needed to find out if they knew anything that would help him figure out what happened to Jason Tig, and what that demon inside him was up to.

  Dags walked back through that massive glass door⏤

  ⏤and nearly ran into a thirty-something woman wearing a flowered print dress and leather sandals.

  He’d forgotten. Veronica.

  She was supposed to be waiting for him up here.

  He stepped back, murmuring an apology.

  The woman, presumably Veronica, gave him a wry, sideways smile in return, almost like she could see how annoyed he was, how out of place he felt here. Or maybe Dags just looked nothing like the usual guests Asia brought over for a soak in the hot tub and a cappuccino.

  She held out a pair of folded, men’s bathing trunks.

  “You going back in the shark tank, son?” she said, her smile a touch warmer.

  “How likely am I to get bit?” he grumbled.

  Veronica laughed, shaking her head. “The girls are okay. Asia’s spoiled rotten, but that’s her parents’ fault. Just watch out for that other alpha down there. I suspect he already doesn’t like you. I’d be willing to bet money on it, given your look.”

  Dags grunted. “That’s a bet I would not take.”

  The woman smiled at him knowingly.

  “And Phoenix?” she said casually. “What is your impression of her?”

  Dags shrugged, his hands in his pockets. “There isn’t one. We didn’t speak.”

  “Ah.”

  Something in that single sound managed to convey Veronica wasn’t buying his nonchalance. She wasn’t buying it one bit.

  “She’s like you, you know,” the woman remarked cryptically. “Just better at it.”

  Dags frowned at her.

  He didn’t want to ask, but found himself asking anyway.

  “Better at what?”

  “Hiding.”

  Dags frowned.

  He focused on the woman’s aura, in spite of himself.

  It was purple and rose-colored, but he couldn’t read much in it. Despite the fact that he could see it, plain as day, right in front of him, something about it appeared cloaked, like it lived behind a transparent shield. It wasn’t like Phoenix, though. This woman’s aura was cloaked in a way Dags encountered sometimes. It was rare, but not unheard of.

  Some people just had more control over their emotions and thoughts than others.

  The woman probably meditated.

  Something to note, but nothing particularly alarming.

  Nothing like Phoenix, who had no aura at all.

  “I mean no offense,” she added when he still hadn’t spoken.

  “I didn’t take any.” He gave her the first real smile he’d managed in probably three days. “I’ll keep that in mind. The hiding. Anywhere in particular I should change?”

  “Bathroom’s down there.” She pointed to the other side of the room with the Art Deco couches, down a corridor to his right. “First door on your left.”

  He nodded his thanks, and followed the direction of her pointing finger.

  Chapter 13

  Celebrities And Their Problems

  Dags left most of his clothes in the green-tiled bathroom.

  The motorcycle boots, the dark pants, the over-shirt, his leather jacket. His underwear.

  He kept on the gray T-shirt he wore under his over-shirt, if only because it felt strange to walk down to the jacuzzi shirtless. He wondered about towels, but the ones in the bathroom looked both too small and too fancy, so he just walked out, hands empty.

  He needn’t have worried
about a towel.

  Veronica was still there, by the tall glass door, when he exited the green bathroom.

  “Did you leave everything in there?” she asked.

  He glanced behind him, then nodded. “Should I take it out?”

  “No. It’s fine. I’ll bring a towel down for you when I bring the drinks.” She looked him over as he walked towards her, making him faintly self-conscious, even before she spoke. “No wonder that jackass down there hates you,” she remarked, raising her eyes back to his.

  Dags frowned a bit, catching it when he caught Veronica watching his reaction.

  Turning the frown into a smile, he rolled his eyes.

  “Sure,” Dags grunted. “I’m sure the rich, famous movie star is super threatened by a nobody P.I. from East Hollywood.”

  “He is,” Veronica said seriously. “Threatened. I overheard him talking about you.” At Dags’ harder look, she only smiled, folding her arms. “Honestly, I was kind of impressed. I never would have pegged Karver as being that perceptive.”

  Dags wasn’t sure how to take that.

  “You must get strange reactions a lot,” Veronica added. “From people, I mean. And not just from women.”

  Dags felt himself starting to tense.

  Who was this woman? Was she really just a housekeeper? Or was she something more than that? And what did she want from him? A reaction? Information?

  How could she possibly know people reacted strangely to him?

  “I’ll try not to be too fluffy down there,” he assured her. “With the sharks. But I appreciate the head’s up.”

  She shook her head again, her expression bemused.

  “Ah,” she said. “Your words are polite, but now I’m getting the wolf stare. Those eyes of yours are… interesting. To say the least. I can see you trying to hide it, but you suck at it.” Pausing, she nodded in the direction of the jacuzzi. “She’s much better at it. Like I said.”

  Dags frowned.

  “What is it you think I’m hiding, exactly?” he said finally.

  The woman named Veronica smiled.

  Tilting her head, she assessed him openly.

  “Power,” she said after a pause. “If I had to give it a name, I’d probably call it power. Intensity, perhaps. Like an electric charge.” She met his gaze, motioning towards her own face. “It’s in your eyes. To call what’s there ‘unusual’ is probably generous. I don’t know if it’s dangerous or not, but I suspect it could be.”

  Nodding, she looked him over again, that shrewder look sharpening.

  “Yes,” she said. “I think you could be dangerous. If properly provoked.”

  “Dangerous,” Dags said.

  There was a silence.

  Then her smile grew warmer, even as she took a step back.

  “No need to be offended, Mr. Jourdain,” she said, smiling wider. “No need to feel threatened either, just because I see you a bit.” She quirked an eyebrow. “It’s my job to see things… especially people. In my way, I protect those two girls even more than the security team in the booth outside.”

  There was a silence. Her gaze never wavered. She stood there, arms folded loosely across the front of her print chest, smiling that faint smile.

  Keeping his expression blank, Dags nodded.

  He was now frustrated by how little he could see in her aura.

  In the end, he just shrugged.

  “If you want to know something,” he said. “Just ask it. I’m not fond of games.”

  She smiled, and that time, the smile looked strangely more genuine.

  “Neither am I, Mr. Jourdain,” she said politely. “And thank you. You’ve answered the questions I had. For now, at least.”

  Dags frowned.

  Before he could open his mouth to speak, she motioned towards the outside deck.

  “I believe they’re waiting for you,” she added politely.

  There was another silence.

  Then, patting him affectionately on the arm, Veronica turned, walking back towards the other end of the house, likely where she or someone else would make him a cappuccino and bring down alcoholic drinks and whatever else for the three movie stars in the hot tub.

  Dags watched her go.

  Then, shaking his head, he crossed the threshold of the tall glass door, walking barefoot onto the stone patio with the fire pit. As he walked, he found himself replaying his conversation with the housekeeper, Veronica.

  Once he had, he was kicking himself.

  He should have asked about the stalker.

  He should’ve asked if she knew any reason someone might be harassing Phoenix, apart from just her being a celebrity. He should’ve asked about the habits of the women living in the house, how often Karver was here, who else came and went, not to mention more about Phoenix’s past. Veronica made it sound like Asia’s “roommate” may not have grown up with the same wealth and privilege her actor buddies had.

  That may not be relevant; then again, it might be.

  Veronica-the-cryptic-housekeeper probably knew a hell of a lot about what went on here. Dags wasn’t entirely sure she would have told him anything, but he should’ve asked.

  He reached the bottom of the stone steps, still lost in his own thoughts.

  He only snapped out when someone spoke to him from the jacuzzi.

  “You’re not wearing your shirt in, are you?” a voice said.

  Dags turned, as if his head was on a string.

  He met the eyes of the woman he still hadn’t spoken a word to.

  Her voice was surprisingly deep, but had a music to it, a depth that made him wonder if she might be a singer, in addition to her acting. He had no idea, of course, but he would find out. He already knew he’d been looking her up when he got home, whether he ended up hired for the job or not.

  For now, he found himself lost in her eyes.

  Those eyes were a dark green, an unusual green, with flecks of what looked like gold. He wondered if the red light in the hot tub was screwing with the color, or if he was seeing it more or less accurately.

  As it was, they looked almost alien.

  He still didn’t speak to her.

  Instead he reached for the collar of his shirt, yanking it abruptly over his head.

  He didn’t look away from her face until he had to, when the shirt broke his stare. Then he turned, tossing the shirt on the deck.

  He heard a delighted laugh before he turned.

  “Daaaamn,” Asia said.

  When Dags turned, she grinned at him, then aimed that grin at her friend.

  “What did I tell you? He’s pretty, right? Not the conventional, Hollywood kind of pretty, but definitely a snack.” Turning back to look at Dags, she lifted an eyebrow at him coyly. “Told you he was pretty, Nix. Didn’t I say it would be worth our while, getting him out of his clothes so we could get a better look?”

  Phoenix didn’t make a sound.

  Dags didn’t look at her to gauge her reaction, either, but felt his face tighten.

  He aimed his frown at Asia.

  “We could have talked upstairs,” he said.

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Asia motioned towards his arms, still smiling at him, batting her eyelashes. “Those are nice tats, Angel-guy. A little on the nose, though. Aren’t you worried you’re outing yourself, with literal wings painted on your arms?”

  Sitting between Asia and Phoenix, Karver grunted.

  Dags’ eyes shifted to the other male, hearing as much as seeing the smirk on his face. Karver didn’t look amused, however, as much as he was trying to. He’d clearly been trying to sound amused too, but couldn’t quite pull that off, either. When Dags met his gaze, the blond actor glared at Dags like he was plotting his death.

  What the fuck was wrong with these people?

  Usually Dags was the weird one.

  Looking around at the three of them, avoiding eye-contact with the woman with the black hair and those strange, bright-green and gold eyes, Dags was struck again, how comp
letely awkward and not-normal this all was.

  Granted, he was acting as weird as they were.

  Why hadn’t he left, when he had the chance?

  He could have walked right out the front door when he went upstairs. Hell, he could have ghosted Asia in the first place. He should have ghosted her. She saw his wings. She saw too much of him, period. Why was he risking outing himself further? He didn’t need them, not to investigate Tig. He could have done it on his own.

  He’d always done it on his own before.

  “Are you coming in?” Asia cocked an eyebrow coyly, splashing at the bubbles with her fingers as she leaned against the jacuzzi wall. “Or are you just going to stand there, forcing me and Phoenix to lust after your half-naked bod?”

  Dags scowled at that, too.

  Even so, he did as he was told.

  Shoving his misgivings aside, he stepped into the jacuzzi, sucking in a breath when it was about five degrees hotter than he’d been expecting. He stepped down to the stone bench, then lowered his weight, sitting directly across from Karver, and between the two women.

  He still avoided looking at Phoenix.

  “You don’t talk much, do you?” Phoenix said to him, even as he thought it.

  Something in her words gave him the impression she was trying to get him to look at her.

  He didn’t.

  He cleared his throat instead, leaning lightly against the concrete wall of the jacuzzi. He couldn’t quite relax, even in the hot, bubbling water. He sat there, back straight, looking first at Karver, then at Asia.

  “Are you going to debrief me?” His voice came out a touch deeper and harder than he intended. He felt the woman to his left flinch, even as he grew conscious of her staring at his face.

  “I’ve jumped through all of your hoops,” he added. “I’d like to hear about the job now.”

  Karver grunted.

  Dags gave him a sharp look, but for the first time, something in the blond man’s face had relaxed. Clearly, Karver was just fine with Dags not looking at Phoenix. Karver was just fine with Dags only wanting to discuss business.

  In fact, Dags got the distinct impression Karver would be thrilled if Dags never looked at or spoke to Phoenix again, but simply did his job and left.

  Again, Dags was struck with the weirdness of his own reactions.