by Willa Blair
Michael dropped his head onto his desk and closed his eyes. Darach’s evening’s activities could get him more than a slap if his boss found out, and of course he would. Michael would take the brunt of the sermon, but his immortal needed to learn to curb his appetites—all of them—or be prepared to suffer the consequences.
Chapter Nine
Abby stood behind Darach as he opened the door. His bulk prevented her from seeing Lieutenant Black at first, but then he moved forward over the threshold. Her breath caught. She wasn’t sure how she’d missed his impressive build before. His shoulders were not as wide as her guard dog’s but were still imposing. And speaking of eyes, the red flames she’d seen earlier had reverted to the loveliest shade of emerald she’d ever seen—much darker than before. His blond hair seemed a bit longer than it had last time, but that was impossible—wasn’t it?
“MacRath, Ms. Dupree.”
“Lieutenant.” Darach’s tone matched that of the just slightly shorter man—or would that be demon, more than a bit icy.
She’d had enough. There were questions that needed answers, and the men were standing there like two dogs getting ready to fight.
“Enough, you two. Come in, Lieutenant Black.” She didn’t quite succeed in pushing Darach back an inch but he got the message all the same.
“Didnae I tell ye to stay behind me?” His gruff and sulky tone reminded her of a little boy’s.
“Yes, and if I did as you told me, we’d be standing here until Gabriel blows his horn.”
The lieutenant’s snicker brought an almost smile to Darach’s stony demeanor.
“Why don’t we head to the kitchen and get something to drink. That is if you are off duty, Lieutenant.”
The lieutenant gave her a smile that lit up his face enhancing the tan contours. She managed one of her own—earning her a scowl of major proportions from Darach.
“Okay, gentlemen, and I expect you both to act as such, follow me.” Abby led the way and once they were all seated with the drink of their choice, she decided to put in her two cents again.
“Lieutenant Black, I—”
“Sean, call me Sean.”
This time Darach’s scowl became a snarl. Before matters got totally out of control, Abby planned to put a stop to their battle.
“All right, let’s chat. Darach, you’ve known the lieutenant for how long?”
“Around a decade. Why?” His expression was one of confusion warring with the angst still prevalent in his gaze.
“Well, have you ever known him to do anything demonic?” Her question caused both men to stop glaring at one another.
“Nay, I haven’t.”
“Lieutenant Black, did you have any idea that Darach was an immortal?”
The lieutenant’s eyes grew wide, and the crimson flame came back, burning low—not quite obscuring the green of his irises.
“No. The Highlander kept his secret well.”
“As did you, demon.” Darach’s shoulders bunched as if he planned to spring over the table at Sean.
“Half-demon, and don’t forget it, Highlander.”
“Oooh, if you two could keep the testosterone under control, then maybe we could get a few more answers. I know I still have questions. Darach?” Her question was aimed to diffuse the situation, but her immortal didn’t look like he wanted to diffuse anything. She reached out as far as she could with her foot and kicked him.
“Wheesh, woman, ye kicked me in the shin.” His pained expression looked disgruntled as well.
“Well, crap, I was aiming higher.” Abby allowed some of her own temperament loose.
Sean’s chuckle brought both their gazes back to the lieutenant who raised his hands in the air.
“Don’t kick me, I couldn’t help it.” The demon/mortal shot her a smile that was infectious.
“Darach, settle down. He’s not going to jump my bones right here.”
“Aye, ye can count on that.”
Abby took a sip of her margarita, and resisted the urge to spit it out when Darach glared once more at Sean.
“Sean, why don’t you tell us about yourself, if you don’t mind. It could go a long way toward making Darach more mellow.”
Darach’s eyes turned silver as he directed his gaze at her.
“Then again, maybe not, but go ahead, please.” Abby smiled at Sean.
Darach wanted to smash something, preferably the lieutenant. And when he was finished, he wanted to jerk Abby across his knees and paddle the daylights out of her for making him so jealous he could kill. He counted to ten and then twenty silently before he seconded Abby’s request for the demon’s story.
“Well, I guess you probably want to know how I can be both mortal and demon. And before you,”—he glanced at Darach—“go off the deep end, I’m not a bad guy. I’ve been working to help the innocent for a long time—a very long time.”
“Oh, wow, are you as old as Darach? He’s like a thousand plus.”
“Give or take a few decades I am.” Sean moved a strand of hair that had fallen across his face. “I come from Ireland. My mother was raped by a demon one night, and although it’s not common, I was the result.”
“Wow. That must have been hard on you both.” Abby’s soft whisper soaked into Darach’s ears. He’d been an ass to Sean, and the man had probably lived through torture like none other with his paternal parentage.
Sean’s eyes blazed red for just a moment, but Darach kept still. He didn’t think it was the demon in him but rather emotion.
“Hard enough. My mom worked to take care of us, but when I was ten, she died, and I was placed in an orphanage, which”—he looked at Darach—“you know in those days was pretty much a death sentence. I managed to survive, but I didn’t even know what I was until I turned twelve.”
Again the demon stopped. “I need something a bit stronger than the stuff you’re drinking, Ms. Dupree.”
“Call me Abby or Abigail. I’m afraid I don’t have anything else in the house.”
Sean sent her a smile and then grinned at Darach. “Not a problem.” He waved his hand and a bottle of Irish whiskey appeared on the table with two ancient looking goblets.
“Care to join me, Highlander?”
“It’d be a sin to let you drink alone.”
The men laughed, at what she wasn’t sure. Some male bonding probably. Go figure. Half-demon mortal and an immortal executioner.
“All righty then, now that you boys have your drinks, you want to finish your story, Sean?”
Both exchanged another grin before Sean turned to Abby.
“A bit over a decade I was, and not the largest kid in the orphanage, not by a long shot, but I’d earned a rep for being able to take care of myself. One night, I heard one of the smaller girls crying. I crept out of bed and went to her. I found a couple of the older boys, bullies to be sure, trying to rape her.”
Again his eyes glowed crimson. “Well, after being the product of rape, I couldn’t stand the thought that another innocent, for that was what my mother was before it happened, would be assaulted.”
Sean took a swig of the whiskey and then looked down at the table. “I lost it. Completely lost it. I jerked the boys away and almost beat them to death before I was stopped. I guess my emotions: rage, fear, you name it, brought out my demon side. I was cast out of the orphanage that night, and told if I ever tried to return, I would be labeled a disciple of Satan and burned alive.”
Tears scalded her eyes as she reached across and caught his hand. “I’m so sorry. How could anyone do that to a child?”
“Thank you, Abby, but you forget this was a time, Darach can tell you, where people were ancient in their beliefs. The headmistress only followed what she was taught.”
He squeezed her hand. “And I am part demon, so not at all an innocent.”
She gripped his hand tighter before speaking. “What a bunch of cow crap. You didn’t ask for what happened, so forgive me if I don’t agree.”
“Don’t try
to argue with the woman, Sean, she is an extremely stubborn woman.” Darach lifted his goblet.
“I’m getting that.”
“Enough. Finish, please.”
“Yes, ma’am. Well, once I realized I could take care of myself, I made sure to stay away from grownups. I found work, ate like there was no tomorrow, and waited for the day I would grow up.”
Darach poured another spot of whiskey. “So what did you do when you grew up, and did you ever find out who your sire was?”
“I soldiered, worked as a mercenary, and studied anything I could get my hands on pertaining to the law until I could become a police officer. From there it was a short jump to lieutenant. As for my sire, I don’t know, and I don’t want to know.”
“I wanted to… Look, I just have to ask. When I first saw you with Cecil’s body…you seemed to be a lot smaller in build and your hair wasn’t this long.” Abby hoped he wouldn’t think her crazy, but she just had to know if she was delusional.
Sean grinned. “Your woman is very astute.”
“I’m not his—”
Darach leaned over, lifted her hair off her neck, and placed a kiss over her pulse beat. “Aye, ye are, and soon I will prove it.”
She could feel the heat in her cheeks. Not to mention the fire beginning to burn in her body.
“Stop.” Abby wiggled as far away from Darach as he’d allow which wasn’t much. At least it gave her a bit of breathing room.
“So, I’m not crazy. How did you do it, Sean?”
“I glamoured myself. It’s something I learned in my third decade. It comes in handy. I think people want to see what makes them comfortable. So, I conform to what I think they want to see in an officer of the law.”
“It’s a shame you can’t bottle it. You’d make a fortune just on the women who purchased it.”
Both men laughed, and finally Abby joined in their merriment until she remembered the reason for their meeting. “Do you have any idea who killed Cecil or why?”
“No, nothing at the scene gave us any clues.” Sean turned to Darach. “I didn’t smell a demon, so it’s pretty safe to say it was a mortal crime.”
“I think so too. I can usually smell the sulfur when demons are near, except in your case.”
“Don’t feel bad, Highlander, even my sire’s kind have a hard time picking me out, so don’t stress over it.” For a moment, the lieutenant’s eyes took on the flames of fire.
“That reminds me, Abby, how did you know, how could you tell what I was?”
“Your eyes turned red.”
“Did you see the same thing, Darach?”
“Nay. But I can see them now. I be not sure why. Now, Abby, however, seems to have a gift for discerning demons. As well as having visions about crimes committed by Satan’s minions before they happen.”
“That’s an interesting talent.” The lieutenant exchanged glances with Darach. “And the only reason I can think of for you being able to see my eyes change is that I’ve dropped my glamour.”
She didn’t need to read their minds to know they both thought it was dangerous, and they were right.
“So, Highlander, how did you become an emissary of God?”
Abby half listened as Darach repeated the story that tortured her heart every time she thought or heard it. So much heartache. How had he survived the mental anguish to retain the endearing qualities he kept locked inside? A lesser man would be raging against the fates or using his God-given talents for something other than humanitarian purposes.
“…so this Michael of yours, is he hardnosed? Would he want you to kill me because I’m part demon?”
Abby waited to see what Darach would say before she put her input in play.
“I know what ye be asking, but I am supposed to kill demons committing crimes. I dinnae see ye doing that.”
“So I take it we can continue to work together?” Sean leaned forward as did Darach.
“Aye, as long as ye stay on the side ye are on now, I willna have to kill ye.”
Sean laughed. “And that could be harder than you think, but…” He paused as Darach snarled. “I will be a good demon/mortal. Seriously…”
His eyes remained green as he took a couple of deep breaths. “Truth, I would like to meet this Michael someday. If he’s as reviled as I’ve heard he is in the halls of Hell, then he must truly be a soldier for God. And I will need all the aid I can get when or if I give up this body. I’m not really sure what happens to me if I die.”
“Michael might be able to answer some of those questions.”
“Would you mention it to him?”
Darach chuckled. “Knowing the archangel, he is already privy to this conversation.”
The sip of margarita Abby took almost went down the wrong way. She managed to get out, between having Darach and Sean pat her on the back, one important question. “Does that mean he could know what happened earlier?”
The immortal gave her a wolfish grin.
“Count on it, but he won’t blame ye. It’ll be me head on the chopping block.”
“Well, at the moment, I wouldn’t mind doing a bit of chopping myself.”
She ignored both men as they doubled over with laughter. Her mood turned sour quickly. Cecil was dead—his murderer free and possibly never to be caught. And there was still that last vision she’d had… Abby glanced at the clock. Three o’clock in the morning. Time for bed.
“Look, I’m going to bed. Stay up for the rest of the night, I don’t care, but clean up the mess you made. I’ll take care of mine in the morning.
“Abby…I didn’t mean—”
“Save it, Darach. It’s been a long day and night. I’m tired. Sean, please let me know if you find out anything.”
Sean stood to his feet as Abby pushed back her chair. She ignored the hand Darach held out, and guarded her heart against the hurt look in his gaze as she left the room, leaving a piece of herself behind. It would do no good to dream about a future with a man who could be dead if her vision was correct.
****
Darach bit his lip so hard he tasted blood. The commiserating look the lieutenant gave him only made him feel worse. He’d embarrassed Abby. Of course, over the last two nights, he’d done so much more. Although he’d found her at the scene of a crime fighting a demon, he had brought her into some of his world. And if things did not improve, she would see even more of the dark side of life and death.
“So, you just going to let her go to bed upset?”
“Truth?”
“Sure, I always prefer that to lies.” Sean chuckled.
“If I go to her now, I will take her. I cannot, Sean. She has been through way too much, and if Angus gets his hands on her, it will be a nightmare.
“Are you sure he’s around?”
“Michael says so, and—”
“He knows. I get it, but there ought to be some halfway ground for you two. She’s falling in love with you, you know?”
Darach knew his mouth flew open, but before he could deny Sean’s words, or think about what they meant, his cell phone rang. The strains of “How Great Thou Art” showered the kitchen.
“Cool tune.”
“Well, you can bet your arse, it’ll get hotter in a few. It’s Michael.” Darach spit out the words.
Sean’s eyes flashed red and then green in a split second.
“You really think he knows what you’ve been doing, and that I’m here?”
Darach glanced down at the phone’s screen. The angelic wings that usually accompanied his boss’s call were no longer a Heavenly white, they were beginning to turn a bit gray.
“Oh aye, he knows. Excuse me a minute, I have to take this call.” He flipped the phone open. “Michael?”
“Don’t act so surprised, Highlander. We both know you knew it was me. I believe you have some explanations you want to tender?”
“I suppose ye want them now? Can they not wait until tomorrow?”
“No. You forget I have a boss too, and he’s
not really thrilled that you’ve been drinking whiskey with the enemy.”
“Sean’s not the enemy. He’s a victim, just like I was, just like Abby is.”
Michael’s exhalation caused a shard of lightning to brighten the sky right outside the kitchen door.
“Look, you need to stay focused on Abby. Stay out of her bed. I mean it, and tell Sean he has free choice just like the rest of you mortals and immortals. His choices decide where he resides after he dies.”
Darach looked at Sean and gave him a slight grin before turning his attention back to the call.
“So, how much trouble am I in?”
“Not much, if you keep to the course. I have a bad feeling that things are lining up that could cause you and Abby some serious hurt if you’re not careful.”
“Can ye give me a hint of what might be coming?”
A second exhalation shook Abby’s home with the vibration of thunder.
“I understand, ye can’t or won’t. So, I’ll just keep guarding Abby.” Darach’s sigh was not nearly as theatrical.
“Good night, Darach. I’ll be in touch.”
Darach closed his phone before opening his mouth to speak, although he knew Michael could hear him anyway.
“Keep in touch he says, like I dinnae already know he watches me night and day.”
Sean laughed but it sounded forced. “Did he say anything about me?”
“That ye would be in control of your own destiny or something like that by the choices you make.”
Sean remained silent for a second before he nodded. “Thanks.”
For the rest of the night they talked about Angus, where he might be, and who had murdered Cecil. By the time they staggered to the living room, Darach was more than a bit flummoxed by the whiskey he’d consumed. He needed to remember for future references, never drink with a half-mortal, half-demon companion. They could drink a man, even an immortal, under the table.
