by Jackie Ivie
“I know the location of your domicile, Adam.”
“My domicile? I have never heard anyone talk like you do, lady. Ever.”
“Would you like to go there?”
“Right now?”
“Of course.”
“Well. Yeah. I’d like that a lot.”
She swooped down, plucked him to her, held him tighter than she needed to, and forced her mind to shush. Her arms were wound around his torso. Her chin lifted. His was tipped, so that he looked down. Right at her. Her gaze affixed to his face. Her heartbeat quickened. Each breath was panted. Adam was such an impressive specimen. It went beyond his handsomeness. Jezebel was engrossed and didn’t bother hiding it. He’d never know. He was completely unaware. His eyes were open yet unseeing. She stared into them for long, pulse-pounding moments. They were so deep. Soulful. Easily as dark as his lashes...and the whiskers shadowing his chin and upper lip. Strands of his hair tickled her cheeks as they moved, caressed by air. He felt incredible. Warm. Hard. And so very male.
CHAPTER SIX
“I’m telling you I saw big dark wings. Really big. Silhouetted against the setting sun. It was incredible. How about you, Gareth?”
“Wings? Um. I saw a big dark shadow. Lots of grayish tones. Hard to give it any description...but wings? I’m not sure.”
“Dark wings? Big shadows? Come on, guys. There was a brilliant flash of light. Followed by a loud thunder sound. And then...wham! Bike wreck. What on earth were you two smoking down there? And why didn’t you share?”
Adam silently agreed with the sentiment. The team members who should have been digging sounded like they’d been imbibing on a hallucinogenic of some kind. They’d seen wings? On Jezebel?
“Jerk,” Clint replied.
Gareth spoke next. “Give us a break, man. You were on a bike doing mach one. How do you know what you saw?”
“I was closer,” Ryan replied.
“Yeah. But your camera work is just as pathetic.”
“Don’t bitch me out. Everybody has the same problem. We all got static. Except Chuck. He’s got a fancy image of somebody’s front bumper. Oh! And a great panorama shot of the Cliff House and beachfront.”
“Things were a little chaotic, okay?” Chuck replied defensively.
“I still say it was wings. Big-ass dark ones,” Clint stated. “How about Ken? What did you see?”
The new guy looked up. “I saw a woman,” he stated.
Adam stilled. Everyone else seemed to have the same knee-jerk reaction. Long moments passed while nobody said anything. And then Ryan hooted aloud and argued.
“A woman? Are you saying some chick caused that complete f-up?”
“You’re seeing things man. That couldn’t have been a woman. Not with those wings.”
“Stop with the wings already,” somebody said.
“I know what I saw,” Clint grumbled. “And if that was a woman, then she had wings.”
“Oh. So now we have an angel?” Ryan enquired.
Adam straddled a stool, with his back to the rough wood bar that doubled as a work bench/dining table. He was nursing a mug of black coffee as he watched the team debate things. He didn’t join. Not yet. He was watching body language. Looking for unspoken clues. If Jezebel was right, somebody in here had tried to kill him today.
Twice.
It still sounded incomprehensible.
“I think we should consider the possibility,” Clint continued.
“Do you still believe in Santa Claus, too?” Ryan asked.
“Oh, stop the insults. They’re not constructive. Can we agree on a few things here? I mean, we all know something really weird happened out there. We just need to pin down what it was.”
Gareth was being level-headed. That was an interesting development. The guy was usually silent as a tomb. Adam lifted his mug and took a swig that could easily scald his tongue. He always drank it black. Hot. Strong. He waited a moment. Swallowed.
“All right,” Ryan replied.
“I’m in,” Clint said.
“Sounds like a plan,” Chuck added, “except I didn’t see much. A flash of light maybe. Sounds of a wreck. And then you two roared past me like somebody lit a firecracker under your asses.”
“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” Ryan replied.
“So. We have a flash of light from Chuck. Anything else?’ Gareth asked.
“Nope. I barely had time to dive into the back of the pick-up with my sign before Clint hit the gas and tore out of there. And that should explain my photos.”
“All right. We have two flashes of light. Clint?” Gareth continued.
“Could have been a flash. If so, it wasn’t that remarkable compared to the sight of those wings. Big ones. Really big. Like one of those angel statues you see in cemeteries.”
There was a collective sigh. Adam took another sip of coffee. Watched.
“All right. Fine. We have one big set of dark wings, and one big shadow that might have been wings. True, so far?”
Several men nodded at Gareth’s assessment. Adam narrowed his eyes. Considered Gareth a little closer. The guy was a machine junkie. Loved tinkering with stuff. He’d reached his late twenties. Hadn’t finished high school. Or attended any trade school. He hadn’t even tested out for a GED - Graduation Equivalency Diploma. He was really good with his hands, though. He could make just about any idea workable, regardless of how insane it sounded. That’s why he was on the team.
Adam hadn’t seen Gareth exhibit any leadership qualities before. They must be a recent development. That was interesting. Gareth had prepped the bike. He’d also had opportunity to mess with the wing-suit and parachute in the van on the way to the Golden Gate Bridge this morning.
Hmm...
“So, tell us, Ken. What does this woman-slash-angel look like? Is she a looker?”
“I didn’t get that good of a look,” Ken replied, “but—”
Ryan interrupted. “Oh, come on! There wasn’t any woman. Or winged being. There was a flash of light. Kind of like a lightning strike. And then wham! Bash. Bike wreck with explosion. It isn’t that hard to comprehend.”
“I think you’re forgetting a major fact here, Ryan,” Gareth pointed out.
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
“Adam.”
They all looked over at him.
“What about him?” somebody asked.
“He’s not in some ICU hooked up to breathing apparatus. Duh. In fact, he looks pretty healthy for having a bike wreck at that speed. He doesn’t even have road rash. And that’s like...impossible. Agreed?”
Adam swallowed. It felt louder than it sounded. What was weird was that he hesitated. He didn’t want these guys knowing anything about Jezebel. Like it might taint what had happened, or something. It was beyond weird. Adam was having enough trouble dealing with interest that bordered on desire. A level of enticement that could easily be sexual. She was that fascinating. Gorgeous. Womanly. And pretty damned hot.
Crap.
He was even getting hard here.
Still, these guys were like his brothers. Well...most of them. Gareth had been with them six months and Ken was a new recruit. But, they lived together in a big warehouse with a garage and storage area below street level, a large working/living area on the main floor, and a haphazard arrangement of bedrooms above. It wasn’t in the best part of town, and rent was still astronomical. But it was home and it worked. The team lived together, and usually even ate together. He’d never lied to them. Then again, none of them had tried to kill him before.
And, just like that, he believed her. He couldn’t prove his wing suit had been tampered with, but the steering dampener on his bike had definitely snapped without reason when he’d dropped from the wheelie. If Jezzie hadn’t been there, Adam wouldn’t be in an ICU. He’d be on a cold table in a morgue with a tag on his toe.
That left a question. A big one. Which one of them wanted him dead? Or...was it more than one? And...why?
Oh. Regroup.
He had three questions. At least.
And until he knew the answers, he wasn’t divulging anything. That meant he was going to lie. He’d had enough experience to know that only a pathological psyche managed a perfect lie. There were always non-verbal clues. So. Adam regarded them for long moments while he pondered how to lie while hiding any of the traits of lying.
This almost felt like his last break-up.
“Yeah,” a couple of guys chimed in. Ryan flung a curse word.
“What about me?” Adam finally asked.
“You gonna tell us what happened?”
“I don’t know.” That was a half-truth. Adam shifted slightly on the stool, but caught the motion before it was noticed.
“Bullshit,” Chuck replied.
“I’m serious,” Adam replied.
“How did you get here, then?”
“I don’t know that, either. One second I’m out there, and the next I’m standing in a shower with the water on. I’m soaked. And I’m fully dressed.”
All true.
Adam didn’t move a muscle for long moments. And then he lifted his mug and took another long gulp.
“You don’t remember anything?”
They had to wait for him to swallow. “I was starting to think I’d been sleep-walking and dreamt it until you guys showed up.”
Partially true.
“You didn’t see a flash of lightning or a woman with big dark wings?”
Somebody snorted.
“No,” Adam replied.
Mostly true. Jezebel didn’t have one feather on her, let alone a set of big-ass dark wings.
“Well. Our Adam is the chick magnet around here. If anyone’s gonna have a hot babe guardian angel, it would be him,” Chuck inserted.
Adam stilled.
“Guardian angel?” Ken looked as surprised by the term as he sounded.
“Of course!” Clint added. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Who said anything about a guardian angel? Are you all going nuts?” Ryan stood. Gestured. He was almost shouting.
“You got a better explanation?” Gareth asked
“Yeah. Physics and science. There is no such thing as angels. Or guardian angels. Therefore, you guys are full of shit.”
“You got a scientific explanation for us?”
“Not yet. But I’m sure there is one. Weather phenomena. Stuff like that happens all the time.”
“Twice in one day? To the same guy? And, let’s not forget the equipment. All we got on our cameras is static,” Gareth added.
“Except me. I got photos,” Chuck offered.
“Yeah. We know. A bumper and the restaurant. But, I’m guessing if you’d had your lens on Adam while he wrecked, you’d have failed, too. Wait a minute. Where’s your camera, Adam?”
They all looked at him again. His camera had been atop his helmet. It was somewhere out in the Pacific Ocean. And he hadn’t thought of it until right now.
“Good question. I wish I knew the answer,” he replied. He was getting good with the half-truths. Not a muscle betrayed him.
“Thirty-five millimeter,” Chuck said.
Jaws dropped. Including his. Everyone turned from looking at Adam to Chuck.
“What?” somebody asked.
“We need to set up another stunt. A major one. Now. Tonight. Nothing big...but it has to be death-defying.”
“Are you joking?”
“Stay with me here. We need to equip everyone with 35mm camera stuff. I’ll give you some pointers on how to use it. Oh! And maybe...I think I’ll dust off the reel-to-reel, too.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We’ve been posting videos of insane stunts, and getting lost in the sea of videos showing people doing insane stunts. All in an attempt to go viral. Hit the big time. Am I right?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Well...right now, we’ve got something that might do that.”
“I’m not tracking,” Clint spoke.
“We have the chance to post footage of a guardian angel!”
“Oh! For the love of—!” Ryan started.
“Wow! What a great idea!” Clint interrupted. “I’m in, but why the ancient camera stuff?”
“We can’t get an image digitally. There has to be a reason. I’ve seen some fuzzy images of angels. Ghostly beings. You know. Paranormal stuff like that. But most of them are old. And done on film.”
“Bigfoot, too. Don’t forget that,” Ryan inserted.
“Come on, Ryan. You in or not?”
“With what? Going off the edge?”
“You can prove it false, just as well as true.”
“Oh. Yeah. I never thought of that.”
“How...death-defying is this stunt supposed to be?” Ken asked.
“Our usual. Why?”
“Well...I’m just wondering what might happen if she doesn’t show up.”
“Oh. So now it’s a she?” Ryan asked sarcastically.
Chuck ignored him. “We could be setting Adam up for his own death.”
“Gee, thanks,” Adam inserted.
“What?”
“You’re ‘all-of-a-sudden’ saying I can’t handle a stunt? Regardless of how dangerous it is?”
“We have to pick one that is really out there. One you really could perish in.”
“Are you saying the past ones didn’t have that edge? Wow. Burn.”
“Whoa. Down boy. No insult intended. I’m just saying we need to make sure it’s bad enough your guardian angel shows up. That’s all.”
Adam’s heart rate accelerated. His breathing quickened. He could feel the excitement that came while planning every stunt. But this one had a massive dose of anticipation to it. He could feel goose bumps lifting along his skin, but he caught the tremor. He knew why, too.
He’d be seeing Jezebel again.
“You guys realize what we’re doing?” Clint asked.
“Going off the deep end?” Ryan replied.
“We’re baiting an angel. Like...literally.”
“Yeah. So?” Gareth spoke up.
“You think there might be ramifications for that? Like, if angels exist, doesn’t that mean heaven and hell do, too?”
Ryan hooted. A couple of the guys looked uncomfortable. Adam looked right at Gareth. The man wouldn’t meet his gaze. Adam was almost sure who to watch the closest while they prepped for the upcoming stunt, whatever it turned out to be.
Almost.
CHAPTER SEVEN
She’d been given a suite on the second floor. End of the hall. Far from the steps and any annoyance. Far from everyone. It was secluded...exactly as she’d have requested. The desk clerk hadn’t asked. He didn’t need to. Her file was succinct. She didn’t like others. She didn’t need or want company. And they wouldn’t seek her out. She was considered a pariah, one of the fallen. That’s what came of making a deal with the devil.
Hmm.
That was random. She hadn’t thought of real life and love and Caleb for years. It had once been self-served torment. Now, it just brought a vague taste of depression; prodding pressure that could be heartache; the sting of almost-there tears to her eyes. It didn’t do anything constructive. She shouldn’t be thinking of that time. Not now.
She knew why it happened, though.
Adam Ballantine.
Just thinking his name gave her a pleasurable sensation. Remembering how it felt to embrace him was even more amazing. And beyond stupid. She’d barely survived love once. She thought she’d learned better.
Jezebel stiffened.
Love?
She blinked and jerked her thought process in another direction. The ceiling came into focus. The surface was an unbroken vista, dimly illuminated by recessed lighting hidden somewhere behind the trim. Her rooms were luxurious. She had four of them. All covered with thick carpeting. She had a receiving foyer leading to a large room that could be a general gathering area. It was sparsely furnished – two leather sofas, a large stuffe
d satin-covered wing-back chair, and four sturdy tables. The other rooms were bedrooms, each holding large, king-sized platforms. The bedding looked like the finest. It was all done in the same color and exactly the same shade of it. Except the telephone. She had a black one. Mid-twentieth century design. Rotary dial.
Everything else was in blue. She recalled it being named ‘barely-there sky-blue, but she must not be seeing colors accurately. If this was sky-blue, they’d based it on a sunless, overcast day with a lot of gray tones. Then again, she could be seeing colors differently.
Because of him.
Adam Ballantine.
Jezebel sat up. Looked out into the gathering area. This wasn’t working. She was almost mooning for the guy. How pointless! Futile. Beyond senseless. She’d just met him. Saved him twice from his own foolishness. He sincerely needed to grow up. Gain some depth and wisdom. Treasure each moment of existence rather than fill it with pulse-pounding excitement and the thrill of danger.
Then again...
He was so full of life.
It would be a shame to see that snuffed out by treachery.
Perhaps she should request a link. Search for clues. Find out who was trying to kill Adam. That would be smart, but it would also mean more time spent thinking of him. She was a hunter of opportunities, not humans. Her assignments were mostly accidents. She stepped in. Altered fate. Moved on. That method was unfortunate at the moment. Any other hunter could find Adam’s foe and end this. Situation over. Problem solved. No further engagement required. But she hadn’t killed in her real life. Those who had done so could eliminate threats to their human without compunction. She couldn’t. Well...not without incurring consequences.
She didn’t even know what they’d be. And she wasn’t willing to test it.
Unless she had to.
Jezebel stood. Stretched. This was beyond stupid. She didn’t want anything to do with anyone, especially a human. Perhaps she should really search for who had given Adam to her. And why.
A shiver went down her spine. It chilled.
The phone rang out in the gathering room. She’d barely checked in. Nobody should know she was here. And she really didn’t want another assignment already. Unless it was Adam again. Jezzie’s heart ticked up. She lifted the receiver on the second ring.
