by Wylde, Nora
“Try a college grad with no job. Nice to see you, too, Sam.”
She grabbed another box and walked beside him up the concrete path to the porch where her father sat watching them. Sam took the steps two at a time, his long legs breaching the gap with ease. Lee sat forward to clasp his outstretched hand, giving it a hearty shake before he released it. Lee’s blanket slipped and fell and Abby watched with curiosity as Sam tucked it gently back around her father’s knees before he straightened up.
“In the house with this one?” Sam asked, the question aimed more at Lee than at her. She raised an eyebrow slightly and nodded.
“Yeah, the guest room behind the kitchen,” she said.
“It’s no guest room,” Lee said. “It’s your room, it always will be.”
She stopped halfway through the front door at his words. Seeing the way his jaw flexed and the lines wrinkled at the corners of his eyes she would not be too harsh, but she needed to be clear, if for nothing more than her own sanity.
“This is only temporary. You know that,” she said softly. When you get better, I’m back out on my own, she wanted to add but did not.
His lips thinned and she saw him swallow as he nodded.
“Yeah, well, all right,” he mumbled. He turned back toward the yard and resumed rocking. Apparently the conversation was finished.
She left him to his own devices and went into the house. As she passed the main stairway, a scuffle erupted overhead, and amidst an onslaught of solid thumping, her Great Dane Jake clamored down the stairs. With his big ears flapping against his gray face, he snarled as he raced by after the cat, who flew into a spasm of hissing and howling when the dog trapped him in a corner.
“Leave the cat alone, Jake! You’re scaring the daylights outta him!” she shouted, dropping her box onto the floor.
As she reached out to snatch him, the dog darted away and headed for the kitchen. Thankfully, the cat escaped.
“Whoa there!”
Sam was nearly upended by the massive animal as he came through the kitchen doorway.
“That dog is a monster,” Sam said, taking the box from her hands. “Will he be okay with your dad?”
“He’s harmless,” she mumbled. She hoisted the box onto her hip and brushed past him.
“If you say so,” Sam replied.
Her father was a sentimental fool at times, but he had the good sense to make her old room into an office. She deposited the box onto the old writing desk and wiped her hands off on her jeans.
“So you seem chummy with my Dad,” she said, leaning back on the desk. “Has he been bothering you?”
Dad could be persistent when he wanted something, be it a hand with his mower or dinner on the table, so she was glad to move in to take over the task of being at his disposal. Although Sam had lived next door for as long as she could recall he was still just the neighbor, and she would be mortified if Dad had been harassing him. It was her responsibility to take care of her father and she intended to do a bang up job of it. She might have failed at getting a job, but she could still be enough of a daughter to make her Dad proud.
“Nah, he’s fine. I like helping now and then. He keeps me updated on all the gossip, and he grills a mean turkey burger,” Sam said. His mouth twitched with a smile.
“Turkey burgers? That guy out there?” she asked, thumbing in her dad’s direction. “You must be some kinda miracle worker.”
His smile grew wider and he let out a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest. Soft green eyes met hers, and she could not help but smile back at him.
“It was your idea. He said you’d kill him if he didn’t start eating healthy.”
Her body tensed at his ill-chosen words. His face fell when he saw her stiffen and his mouth parted half-open as he struggled to speak.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
Speaking of the possible death her father faced was too much. She brushed the swell of tears away that surfaced, mortified that he was there to witness it. It had been a long time since they had been friends, and as he looked down at her with an expression of pure regret on his face could not for the life of her recall why.
“I’m just being stupid,” she said.
“No, I shouldn’t have said it,” he murmured. He raised one hand as if to pat her shoulder, then ran his hand down the length of her arm as if he did not know how to comfort her. She froze at his touch, causing a ripple of goose bumps across her skin as an image of him burst into her thoughts.
He was a shimmer of light and she was in his arms, and she had never felt so alive. Remnants of an old dream hit her in a rush, the impact so shattering that she was sure he could feel it, too.
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and stepped away from him.
“It’s okay,” she stammered. “He’s going to get better. I’m sure of it. He’ll beat this cancer thing.” She noted that his throat held a pink flush spreading up from his collar, and he swallowed as he shrugged.
“Hey, I’ll grab another box,” he said. Before she could object he left the room, leaving her standing there staring at his back as he retreated.
Great. Dad wasn’t getting any better, and she was having sexy daydreams about the neighbor. Get over it, woman, she thought. It’s just plain old Sam, for Christ’s sake!
Maybe moving home wasn’t the best idea after all.
Chapter 3
Sam
“HOW MANY?”
Sam ignored Daren for the moment as they crouched down outside the neighbor’s house. He kept his gaze fixed on the minions through the window, trying to count the number sitting around the table playing cards. They looked like innocent humans enjoying a game, yet they were anything but that. Daren elbowed him hard in the ribs when he did not respond.
“At least six. Right now, anyway. Not counting the ones who left earlier,” he finally answered. Daren uttered a slew of curses under his breath, and Sam saw his true form shimmer past his shield. Sam grimaced, feeling it too. It was impossible to ignore the urge. It was something burned into the blood of every Archangel, the desire to eradicate minions born of the Underworld Gods. They upset the balance of things with their constant attempts to spread discord, seeking to smother mortals in fear and loathing as means to control them.
Most times they tried to live in peace. Let the minions do their work, let them have their little victories, human by human. Yet when they congregated in large numbers, no Archangel could allow it to continue. Especially when that horde of minions took up residence across the street from his mortal home.
Across the street from Abby’s home.
“Why here? Why now?” Daren muttered.
“I don’t care why. I want them gone,” Sam replied. In another time, he would have wanted to discover their purpose, find the motive behind their gathering. When minions met in large numbers, there was always a purpose.
Yet the proximity of the group sent a spike of rage through his chest, stabbing that useless organ behind his ribs. Blinded by the discomfort, he could focus on one thing – eliminating the threat to his human Ward. Suddenly nothing else mattered, not their purpose or their plan.
Sam kneeled down to the ground, his hands fisted at his sides as he allowed his true form to emerge. His fingernails dug deep into his palms and he knew he bled, but the discomfort was buried as his wings surged forth.
Ah, there, he thought. That’s better.
“Sam? What the hell?” Daren snapped.
“Let’s end this now. I want them gone,” Sam answered. As he rose from his crouch, he felt Daren’s hands clamp down on his shoulders, and suddenly with a burst of light blocking his vision he was thrust into nothingness.
A moment later, Sam stumbled and fell onto the floor of his own kitchen, and Daren blinked in beside him.
“You know we can’t take on that many. Are you trying to get killed? Do you want to be stuck here forever?” Daren shouted.
Sam put his hand on the counter and righted himself, tryin
g to push down the simmering beneath his skin as his pulsed throbbed in his throat. It had been a long time since another Archangel attacked, and it was a sensation he did not want to experience again anytime soon. Especially coming from his oldest friend.
“I – I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry, man,” Sam muttered. He shook his head, as if it might clear the fog from his thinking. He needed to be rational, composed. Why on Earth would he think running headlong into a house full of minions might be a good idea? As if he could exterminate them all with his own hand?
“Fuck, yeah, I don’t know what your problem is, either. Just get it together, okay?” Daren answered. “We’ll figure out what they want and we’ll get some backup. Then we’ll take them out. You know how we operate.”
Sam nodded, pressing both hands into the countertop as he leaned into it for support. He felt drained, vulnerable, and it was a feeling he did not enjoy.
Not one little bit.
Sam felt the skin prickle at the nape of his neck as he pulled a bundle of magazines from the mailbox the next morning. He shrugged off the shiver that followed and glanced over to Lee’s house. All was quiet for the moment, but there was no mistaking that sign.
One of his kind was about to make an appearance.
It took him only a few strides to cross the lawn between the mailbox and his house, and as he dropped the junk mail in a heap on his front porch he heard Lee’s front door open. Abby did not notice him at first, but as she walked back from her curbside box her head turned in his direction. He saw her eyes dart from her front door, to him, and then back to the door, as if she did not know whether to greet her neighbor or not.
He cursed under his breath when Abby gave a little wave and started toward him. Of course the human would take a few moments to speak with him. As unsettled as Abby was at the moment, she was still polite enough to greet him. He plastered a smile on his face as she approached.
“Morning,” she said. “Do you have a sec?”
She shoved her hands into her front pockets and rocked back on her heels.
“What’s up?” he replied, hoping to answer her questions and get rid of her before anything happened. The last thing he needed was her interference in his otherworldly business.
“Dad mentioned you were coming over to look at one of the kitchen cabinets,” she said. Her brows narrowed as she squinted at him through the early morning sunshine, and she kicked at the grass with one toe. “I know you must be busy, so I can take care of it. I mean, I’m home now. You don’t have to keep running over here all the time.”
Despite his desire to cut their conversation short, the strained look on her face stopped him. Her brown hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail at her nape, a wayward strand tucked behind one ear. There were dark circles under her soft brown eyes, red-rimmed as if she had been crying.
Well, he couldn’t very well let her have a meltdown. It was near time to send Lee over to the other side, and Sam would see it through to the end. There was no need for hysterics. Death was a part of life, a glorious end to an otherwise insignificant existence. It had been a long time since they had been friends, and admittedly his memory was clouded with memories of his bumbling human teenage self watching her from afar like a hungry puppy. He had been happy then to get a wave across their front yards.
Now, as an adult human male, he had no idea what was expected of him. It had been easy to care for Lee as a friendly neighbor, nothing he could not handle. Abby trying to push him out of Lee’s life was an unnecessary complication. The thought of cultivating any relationship with the woman in front of him seemed impossible, yet it was essential if he expected to continue be involved with his Ward.
Sam needed to be involved with Lee. It was a stipulation of his punishment, one of the conditions he must satisfy before he would be restored to his position among The Faithful. He had no choice in the matter.
“Do you fix cabinets?” he asked.
“Well, no. But I can give it a shot,” she stammered. He shook his head with a frown.
“I’ll do it. It’s no big deal.”
She uttered a sigh and turned abruptly on her heel, took a few steps away, and then turned on him. As she stalked toward him with a scowl on her face and thrust her finger into his chest, he took a step backward.
“When did you and my Dad become such buddies anyway?” she asked.
“Your Dad and I always got along. He’s been alone while you were at school, Abby. I just help him out now and then.”
Sam closed his hand over her fist, which stopped her from poking him but did nothing to change her attitude. She seemed surprised that he touched her, and if confessions were to be made he had to admit it bothered him as well. Her flesh was warm, soft. Her fist tightened in his grasp as her eyes met his. Touching a human was something he rarely did.
Despite her sadness, despite her frustration, he was startled by her touch. She was utterly, completely…alive.
“Abby, I –”
The crawling sensation beneath his skin suddenly surged and he knew another archangel was near. He could sense it was someone other than Daren, who was still sleeping in the house.
“I think I hear your dad calling you. Tell him I’ll be over later,” he said, dropping her hand. He gave her bit of a shove, hoping she would take the hint.
He needed her gone.
Now.
A familiar black Bentley pulled up to the curb and he knew his instincts were correct. Despite the deep tinted windows, Sam knew who it was.
He stepped reflexively in front of Abby and waited as the male approached. Calm and confident, with an arrogant curl to his lip, the archangel Alex made his way up the walk. Sam was surprised he made the effort to shield himself; usually his brethren was more than happy to flaunt his otherworldly charm. Alex had a long history of allowing humans, especially women, to see his true form, which was something that was forbidden to their kind. Alex, however, had never followed the rules, and the guy got a kick out of knocking humans to their knees with his beauty. The uncharacteristic care Alex took to mask himself immediately made Sam suspicious.
Alex pushed back his dark tailored sports jacket with one hand, resting his manicured fingers on the edge of his leather belt. He notched his chin up a bit as he stopped a few paces away from Sam, his gray eyes shimmering in an ethereal manner despite the shield he threw over his image.
“Sam. You look well,” Alex commented as he glanced past Sam at the house. “It seems Daren and I have some business to discuss,” Alex commented absently. “Is he here?”
“He’s still sleeping, Alexandros,” Sam replied, using the diminutive form of the deity’s name. “I’ll let him know you stopped by.”
The archangel’s upper lip twisted into a scowl.
“Then I’ll be happy to wake him up,” Alex snapped. His gaze darted around Sam at Abby and he lowered his voice, moving closer as if to inspect the woman. “Who’s your friend?”
“She’s leaving,” Sam growled. His chest started to burn and his lungs felt like they flamed each time he took a breath. The mere presence of the rouge archangel stirred the raw power trapped within him. He could feel his body surging outward, trying to escape the confines of the human form, his muscles straining to bursting against the barrier of his skin. The scent of the male in his space caused every neuron to fire off beneath his flesh. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, confused at the predatory urge that hit him. Yes, Alex was an annoyance, but there was no cause for such a territorial response.
“Uhm, I can speak for myself, thanks,” Abby muttered. She reached around Sam and stuck out her hand. “I’m Abby, the neighbor. Nice to meet you.”
Sam’s teeth clenched down when Alex took her hand into both of his. A grin stretched across the rogue angel’s face.
“Sam never told me he had such a lovely neighbor,” Alex said. Abby smiled.
Good God, she wasn’t buying that garbage, was she? Sam fumed. He closed his eyes for a
moment and took a deep breath, steadying the surge of rank violence within. Alex was keen to his discomfort, raising an eyebrow at Sam as Abby laughed.
“What do you want?” Sam ground out.
“I might need your help tonight at the club. Both of you, actually,” Alex replied. “And why don’t you come by as well, Abby? I’d love to show you around.”
“That sounds nice. I could use a night out. I can call a couple of my friends –”
“I’ll take you,” Sam interrupted, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could stop them. Abby did not need to get involved with the archangel Alex, his nightclub, or anything else having to do with the male. Clearly Alex was looking for a way to get to him, and Sam wouldn’t let it happen. He would show Alex that Abby was just another human, as insignificant as her father was in the quest to regain his place up above.
“Well, okay,” Abby agreed. “Then I’ll see you later. What time is good?”
“Eight,” Sam replied quickly. Alex raised an eyebrow but remained silent, merely nodding at Abby when she gave a little wave and jetted back across the lawn to her house.
“So the mighty Samael has finally broken his vows,” Alex said. It hurt him to keep his form within the shield as Alex taunted him, but he could not risk exposing himself. He did not break the rules. He was not a rogue like Alex, devoid of compassion for the mortal species. He clung to his resolve as his body shuddered and strained and he tried to hide his pain from the view of the retreating human.
Sam waited until he was sure Abby was out of earshot before he responded. When her front door clicked shut, he turned to Alex.
“I’ve broken no vows,” Sam growled. “She’s my ward’s daughter. Nothing more.” His skin tightened and he could feel the pain slice through him as his wings surged to the surface. Even his armor snapped into place across his chest, encasing his body in a glimmer of bronze. The air shattered around them as he flexed the appendages, causing Alex’s dark hair to fly back off his face as the male looked at him in surprise.
