Angeli Trilogy: Angeli Books 1-3

by Amy Vansant

  “You know that wasn’t my official question, right?”

  “That my dear, would be another question,” Michael grinned. “And I’m afraid you are all out of questions for today.”

  Michael began to unbutton his shirt.

  “No, no, no. You’re not getting away with this,” said Anne, watching him begin to undress. “I still get a question.”

  “I’m kidding. You can have your question. You have to admit it is nice to have a quiet moment for a change. It’s been quite a while.”

  Michael stood and grabbed Anne’s hands, spinning her into a pirouette, and playfully tossing her to the bed. He fell forward on her, using his right arm to hold himself hovering just above her body, his left hand brushing her cheek. He looked deep into her eyes.

  “I really am sorry,” he said.

  Anne smiled and hugged Michael, his unusual warmth comforting against her skin.

  “You’re an ass,” she whispered in his ear. “But sometimes you surprise me.”

  “And I’m handsome,” Michael whispered back to her. “Don’t forget handsome...”

  Knowing no other way to silence Michael, Anne began to kiss him.

  The ploy worked.

  Michael reached down, cupping Anne’s buttocks and pulling her hips up toward him, using both his physical presence and his energy to manipulate Anne’s body. Her need for him became unbearable; she had to have him inside of her. She began to claw at her shorts, desperate to rid herself of them.

  A loud knock boomed from the outer door of her hotel room.

  “Are you kidding me?” snapped Anne, looking toward the door.

  She jumped up, pulling a button from Michael’s shirt and throwing it at the door to her room.

  Michael looked down at his shirt. “Really? Again with the buttons?”

  “Can I never get a moment to just enjoy myself?” Anne hissed at him. “Someone is at the damn door.”

  Michael stood and put his finger against Anne’s lips to shush her.

  “Wait here. I’ll pop out and see. It’s probably just the cleaning service.”

  “The midnight cleaning service?”

  Michael smoothed his rumpled, half-unbuttoned shirt, and walked to the wall that separated the bedroom from the hallway.

  Without pause, he passed through it, leaving Anne panting, shirtless, and very, very frustrated.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A man stood outside Anne’s hotel room, preparing to knock a second time.

  Michael found himself speechless as he eyed the man from head to toe.

  It couldn’t be.

  “Con?”

  Con turned toward the Angelus. The Irishman stood six feet tall, his black hair swinging as he reacted to the sound of his name. Con’s muscular shoulders turned in, giving him the appearance of an animal ready to pounce. Every rough-hewn angle of Con’s body mocked Michael’s smooth, polished counterpart.

  “I didn’t expect to find you here,” said Con, eyeing Michael’s rumpled shirt.

  “No,” said Michael, straightening. “I suppose you didn’t.”

  They sized each other up like dogs on either side of a meaty bone. Con pulled his shoulder-length locks back from his face.

  “Would you like me to ask Anne for a hair-tie?” asked Michael.

  “That’d be swell. Maybe you could manipulate her into sewing your buttons back on while you’re in there.”

  Michael self-consciously felt the front of his shirt, remembering his missing button. He felt rumpled. His mouth twitched.

  “Well, this has been nice. But I can do stupid Angelus tricks, too,” said Con. He stepped through the hotel door and disappeared into Anne’s suite.

  Michael stood a moment, stunned, and then turned to phase back into Anne’s room. She had slipped back into her t-shirt, and stood staring through her bedroom door into the main living area. As she turned to watch him phase into the room, Michael could see there was no need to announce Con’s arrival. Her expression bloomed with surprise and joy.

  “Con!” Anne went running from the bedroom, arms outstretched.

  Con threw open his arms, but was unable to catch the approaching girl. Michael watched as she moved through Con’s embrace, and through Con himself.

  “Whaa...” said Anne, turning around to find Con behind her. “That felt like swimming through tingly hair gel.”

  “Sounds delightful,” said Michael, making his way into the main room, his eyes never leaving Con. He manifested a button for his damaged shirt and buttoned it as he walked, his shirt now perfectly ironed.

  Con glowered at Michael and then turned to Anne.

  “I’m not quite all here yet,” he said with a shrug.

  Michael snorted. “Not quite a man yet?”

  “Sod off,” grumbled Con, refusing to look at the Angelus.

  Anne shot Michael a dirty look and he shrugged one shoulder.

  She reached out and passed a hand slowly through Con’s chest.

  “Well, that’s just rude,” said Con.

  “You look so real...”

  “I am real, I’m just not totally healed yet.” Con took a deep breath. “Ok. Try again. Touch my shoulder.”

  Anne tried to touch his shoulder again, this time feeling resistance.

  “That feels like a shoulder now!”

  Con reached out and touched Anne’s cheek with the back of his fingers. Just before his fingers met her face, the rest of him grew a bit more transparent, while his hand brightened. Michael could tell by Anne’s reaction that she felt his touch. Con pulled back his hand and became overall more solid in appearance.

  “I can harden up, I just can’t do everything at once yet.”

  “I’m not touching that one,” mumbled Michael.

  Con turned to the Angelus. “Don’t you have to go sit on a Christmas tree?”

  “How long until you’re back completely?” asked Anne, glancing nervously from Michael to Con. “How are you getting better so quickly all of a sudden?”

  “That is what I came to talk to you about. But I didn’t know you’d be keeping company.”

  Anne colored.

  “Michael came over to apologize for—” Anne paused. “Well, for being Michael.”

  Michael opened his mouth and then shut it, unsure of what to say. Con had appeared as himself for the first time in nearly a hundred years; it didn’t matter that he and Anne had been on her bed moments before. He couldn’t trump the Irishman’s sudden reappearance.

  Michael found himself with no choice but to leave the two Sentinels alone.

  “I guess I’ll go,” Michael said, his voice stiff.

  He looked at Anne. She bit her lip and looked at Con and then back at him. Her eyes told him all he needed to know. She couldn’t just ask Con to leave, this being his first appearance in so long.

  “Con, I expect a full report on your progress and whatever happened to bring you back to...” Michael paused and looked at Anne. “...to bring you back to us. For now, I’ll leave you two to catch up.”

  Con gave a slight nod to show he’d heard.

  Michael moved to the door. He could see neither Anne nor Con watched his retreat.

  “No, no, don’t try to stop me,” he said, opening the door and moving slowly. “I really must be going. Don’t beg me to stay, it’s embarrassing, really. I must take my leave.”

  Michael glanced back to confirm no one was paying him any attention. Anne and Con remained in the center of the room, facing each other, their faces lit with happiness. He sighed and closed the door behind him.

  Taking his energy form, Michael flew upward and shot directly to his nearby office in Washington, D.C. Entering through the outer wall, he flopped into his desk chair and sulked, tapping a pen on his desk, deep in thought.

  He had mixed feelings over Con’s sudden reappearance. On one hand, he hated it; hated that Anne’s supposed soul mate had returned. On the other hand, Con’s return would more than likely keep things between himself a
nd Anne at arm’s length.

  As it should be, he assured himself.

  He nearly believed it.

  Michael’s eyes wandered to the drawer of his desk. He sat staring at it, willing himself not to open it.

  He opened it.

  Inside, he retrieved a small, oval snuffbox made of teak. He placed it on the desk and put his head on his hand, elbow on the desk, watching it. With a pen, he pushed it back and forth on the desk like a hockey puck for several minutes.

  Michael sighed and put down the pen. He picked up the box, lifted its cover, and overturned it into his palm. A doubloon, sharpened to a point on one end and threaded on a string, fell into his hand. Michael took the necklace between his fingers and held it aloft, swinging the coin like a pendulum. He watched it, and thought about the first time he’d met Anne, in that dingy New Orleans hovel.

  With a flash of streaky blue light, Leo arrived, awakening Michael from his trance. He dropped the necklace into his lap.

  “Hello,” Michael said, as smoothly as possible.

  “Hello. Busy?”

  “No. What do you need?”

  Leo moved to the front of the desk and rapped on it with his knuckle. “I need to talk to you.”

  Michael yawned and stretched. Of course you do. Leo always appeared when he wanted time to think about Anne.

  “Did you just yawn?”

  Michael offered a guilty nod. “With all the blowhard politicians around here, it’s hard not to pick up the habit.”

  “That is why I prefer being in the trenches,” said Leo, flexing his arms.

  “That and the fact that you’re completely untrainable. Though, I have to say you look the part today.”

  Leo glanced down and seemed surprised to find he wore a dark suit. With another burst of blue light, he reappeared in jeans and a t-shirt.

  “Showing off for an uptown girl,” he explained.

  Michael laughed. Leo might be annoying, but he did always find a way to make him laugh.

  “Speaking of girls, why were you talking to Anne when you know I don’t want you interacting with her? I told you to tail her, not talk to her.”

  Leo grinned. “Speaking of tailing her...we exchanged a little energy and I have to say, I think I finally understand why you dote on her so. Her energy is something special. And she smells amazing.”

  Michael sat silent, jaw clenched.

  Leo offered his most innocent face.

  “She had some of me, too. I pushed some energy to her, after the attack after all. She seemed to really need it...”

  “Enough!” Michael barked, holding up a palm to deflect unwanted information. “Stop dragging my chain!”

  Leo laughed. “I’m pretty sure that’s yanking your chain. Or jerking your chain. Speaking of yanking and jerking...”

  “Leo!” Michael roared, slapping his desk. “What do you want? I’m busy!”

  “You just said you weren’t busy.”

  Michael took a deep breath and rubbed his temples. “Well, I am. I was only being polite. I realize that is a concept foreign to you.”

  Leo smirked. “Sorry. I was indeed dragging your chain. I’ll stop. I need to talk to you about Con Carey the Sentinel, or former Sentinel, or whatever he is now.”

  Michael straightened.

  “Now that is interesting.”

  “Why?”

  “I just saw him.”

  Leo raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? Notice anything different?”

  “You first.”

  Leo pulled a seat to Michael’s desk and sat on it backwards, leaning his large forearms on the back of the chair.

  “I’d just finished talking to Anne at the hotel bar,” Leo paused as Michael scowled. “Ok, I’m sorry if I overstepped some boundaries there. Let’s just move past that.”

  Michael remained stone-faced. Leo took that as a tacit approval and continued.

  “As I stepped out of the bar, I noticed an energy signature across the street, so I hung around a bit to find out what it was. Eventually, I realized it was Con inhabiting another man’s body. I was curious as to why he was there—”

  Michael snorted, cutting off Leo in mid-sentence. “Really? You were baffled as to why he would be outside of Anne’s hotel?”

  “Obviously, he was there to see Anne. But that was the first time I’d seen him loitering. Generally, if he wants to see Anne, he just goes to her.”

  Michael nodded side to side, weighing the possibilities. Leo continued.

  “Anyway, he didn’t seem to have much of a plan. He walked around, he went to a pub on West Street, and seemed to be just drinking and talking to himself like the nut job that he is. I was about to go on my merry way, when another man in the bar approached him. They got into it, and then Con grabbed the man and began to siphon him.”

  Leo leaned forward to stress the end of his sentence.

  Michael scowled and moved a small plant away from Leo’s touch.

  “There was a Perfidian in the bar?”

  “No, that’s just it! The guy was a run-of-the-mill human.” Leo sat back, clearly pleased with his gossip. “Con siphoned a human.”

  Michael looked at Leo, concerned. “Are you sure?”

  Leo nodded. “I think I know the difference between us and an everyday human.”

  “So Con’s...what? An Angelus now?” Michael’s lip curled with distaste at the thought. “It’s impossible!”

  “Not exactly an Angelus. That’s the other thing. When I jumped in to stop him from draining an innocent, if boorish, human, he began to drain me.”

  Michael moved his head back with a jerk, as if avoiding a punch. “So he’s a Sentinel, but with Angeli powers?”

  “Or he’s become an Angelus but retained his Sentinel powers.”

  Michael rubbed his eyes. “I’m not sure which is worse, and neither is possible.”

  The two Angeli looked at each other a moment in silence, each trying to wrap his brain around this strange development.

  “He didn’t kill the human?” asked Michael.

  “No. I don’t think he was going to kill him. If anything, it looked like an accident. He appeared as surprised as I was.” Leo sounded disappointed to admit he suspected Con’s innocence.

  Michael nodded, mulling the possibilities, concerned he’d left Anne with an unknown.

  “As I said, I just saw him myself. At Anne’s hotel. He wasn’t in another body, though, he was just Con, head to toe.”

  “He’s regenerated his own form?”

  Michael shook his head. “Not entirely. He has farther to go; he wasn’t completely solid, but he was nearly there. Maybe draining you or the fellow in the bar is what gave him the boost he needed to make a go of it.”

  “You didn’t find out?”

  “I felt a bit like a third wheel at the time... I told him to get me a full report and I figured I’d find out from Anne later as well.”

  Another silence fell between the two Angeli.

  “So...” said Leo after a minute. “What were you doing at Anne’s hotel in the middle of the night?”

  “Shut up, Leo. The day I need to explain myself to you will be a sad day indeed.”

  Leo laughed.

  Michael squinted at Leo.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  Leo shrugged. “I don’t know. Are you thinking about going to Greece tonight to visit an unbelievable brothel?”

  Michael closed his eyes and shook his head, twisting his mouth in disapproval.

  “No. I’m thinking about the only other thing with both Angeli and Sentinel characteristics.”

  Leo dropped his arms to his side.

  “You mean the thing that kidnapped Ariel?”

  Michael nodded. “And drained Anne.”

  “So you think Con might be this thing we’ve been tracking? The thing that attacked Anne? It’s hard to imagine he would attack her.”

  Michael picked up a pen to resume tapping it against the desk. “Unle
ss he just isn’t himself anymore.”

  Leo opened his mouth to speak, but found he didn’t know what to say. He shrugged and leaned forward to pick up a smooth white object on Michael’s desk. He studied it.

  “Finger bone?”

  “Toe.”

  “One of the young politicos in D.C. trying to get his toe in the door?”

  Leo chuckled at his own joke.

  Michael groaned.

  “I took it from the burial site to check for a signature. It was definitely a Perfidian murder.”

  “So that’s that.”

  “Not really. This is just one toe. I should have gotten samples from different bodies and different time periods. I wasn’t thinking.” Michael looked at Leo. “Why don’t you add that to your list of things to do?”

  “But—”

  “I think the Greek prostitutes can live another day without your charms.”

  Leo again opened his mouth to protest.

  “There is plenty of local talent, if you must enjoy your baser instincts.”

  “Well, we don’t all have hot Sentinel girlfriends.”

  Michael chose not to rise to the bait. “Whatever. You don’t need to go to Greece.”

  Leo rolled his tongue around in his cheek, his eyes steady on his brother.

  “Tell you what, Michael, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll go get some more bones, but first, you put away that sentimental trinket in your lap and we go flex a little muscle.”

  Michael looked down at the sharpened coin necklace still sitting in his lap and his face flushed. He balled the necklace in his palm, put it back inside the snuffbox, and returned it to his drawer.

  “What do you mean, flex a little muscle?” he asked Leo, staring hard at his brother’s bemused smirk as he closed the drawer.

  “We need to talk to Con. He’s our number one suspect. Come with me back to Anne’s and let’s find out if there is any chance he’s our man.”

  “I—” Michael’s first thought was how awkward returning to Anne’s room would be right now, but he found himself unwilling to discuss the situation with Leo.

  And if he happened to interrupt Anne and Con’s reunion, would that be so bad?

  “Fine,” he said.

  Chapter Twenty