Cherished by Two Angels [Notorious Nephilim 5]

by Carolyn Rosewood

  “What else is on the questionnaire?” asked Reeve.

  “Not much. She filled out all the answers. Even has a Boise address and phone number.”

  “We can check those out,” said Emmett.

  “How did she pay?” asked Reeve.

  “Cash.”

  Reeve nodded. “See? She doesn’t want a paper trail.”

  Zach grinned. “Reeve, most of our guests don’t want a paper trail. Paying with cash is not all that unusual here. And if she did give us fake info, that’s my fault it didn’t get caught.” He glanced at Abigail and grinned. “Then again, I have been a bit distracted lately.”

  Reeve ignored the comment. A bit distracted was an understatement. Of the original twelve, Zach and Emmett had always been the most fastidious and hard working of any of them. But for the past six weeks, they’d barely left the suite they now shared with Abigail, unless she was with them.

  “There’s something familiar about her face,” said Reeve. “The shape of her chin and her eyes, especially.”

  “Where do you think you’ve seen her before?” asked Abigail.

  Reeve shook his head. “Not her. I’d remember. She’s stunning. But she resembles someone I can’t quite place.”

  Zach shrugged. “Well then, we’ll keep an eye on her, but I just don’t see anything in the file to raise a red flag. Why don’t you turn on the charm a bit and maybe this time she won’t turn you down?”

  “Zach, becoming mortal didn’t help. You’re still an asshole.” Reeve rose and stalked out of the room to the sound of Zach and Emmett chuckling. He was right. He knew he was. Eden Wilderness was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen, and he wanted to get to know her better—much better—but he’d eat a set of guitar strings if she wasn’t hiding a big secret.

  Chapter Two

  Nikolas Fallon walked through the large empty space in the basement that had once housed the nightclub where he, Reeve, and other staff performed several nights a week. After they’d closed it down, they’d tried to open a billiards room, but had too much trouble and snooping around from local politicians in Chicago while they struggled to find contractors who would come this far north to work, so they’d abandoned that idea as well.

  “Why can’t we just use one of the ballrooms on the main floor?” Gregory Fallon, one of the owners of Lilith’s Playground, had reluctantly agreed to help Niko plan a forties swing party at the resort.

  “Abigail thought it would be a nice idea to have it down here, since this space used to house the nightclub. She thought the place still had an aura to it, and hosting it here would be a tribute to Caleigh.”

  Gregory snorted. “She wasn’t even alive when Caleigh sang here.” Caleigh Kensington, the woman who had chosen Hugh Fallon and Sterling Neville, had died in 2004, on the same day as Hugh and Sterling. She’d come to Lilith’s Playground as a singer during World War II, and Hugh and Sterling had both fallen like stones the moment they saw her.

  “But she’s heard all about her. Zach and Emmett also told her about Blair and Joelle.”

  “I heard she spoke to Joelle.”

  Niko nodded as he inspected a torn piece of drywall in the northwest corner. “At least once that I know of. Abigail is fascinated with the history of this place. And with us.” Joelle was now over ninety years old and lived in a suite on the top floor of the resort with Blade Fallon and Cristian Neville, the owners she’d chosen in 1952. Both men were approaching one hundred years old, as near as the others could figure. Since the two had been ageless immortal beings before the curse placed on them had begun to lift, it was difficult to pin down their exact age.

  Gregory clapped him on the back. “Pretty soon it’ll just be you and me running this joint, eh?”

  “What makes you think Reeve or Demetrius would choose to become mortal?” Niko walked over to the area where the stage used to be. The flooring in that spot hadn’t yet been redone when the billiards room was being built, and it was still easy to see where the parquet flooring had once lain in front of the stage. Abigail was right. It was as if Caleigh haunted this place. He could still smell her perfume, and if he listened closely enough, he could hear her smoky voice as she sang.

  “Speaking of Reeve, did you see him earlier?”

  “Huh?” Niko frowned at Gregory. Why was he stuck working with this buffoon? Gregory cared about this place as much as he’d care about events halfway around the world.

  “I asked if you saw Reeve earlier. He was fawning all over some chick in the dining room. Cute face, but I never cared for the spiky hair look.”

  “A guest?”

  Gregory rolled his eyes. “No, she wandered in off the street just to have breakfast here. Earth to Niko.”

  “So Reeve is trying to seduce a guest. What else is new? Why are you bringing it up?”

  Gregory leaned against a support pole. “Well, funny thing about this cutie pie. She looks like someone who once tried to take over this place. Looks a lot like him.”

  Niko froze as a cold shiver ran over his skin. He glanced around, half expecting to see Lilith or another supernatural being. “Who does she look like?”

  “Frankie Fillipone. Swear to heaven she does. She has his eyes and the shape of his chin.”

  “Did you tell Reeve this?”

  Gregory shook his head. “Nope.”

  “What’s the guest’s name?”

  Gregory examined his fingernails. “No clue.”

  “You’re not much help, are you Gregory.”

  “Just tell me what to do for this party and I’ll do it.”

  “I mean you aren’t much help about the guest who looks like the mob boss we all once fought against.”

  Gregory shrugged. “Probably doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Then why bring it up?” Niko was so tired of Gregory’s head games. Ninety-three years of dealing with them were way too many, and they’d worn thin decades earlier.

  “It was a shock to see her, that’s all. Look, I’ll dig up info on Frankie and do some detective work on this chick. You take care of the party, okay?”

  “How convenient that you found a more pressing project to take care of. Looks like I’m planning this myself.”

  Gregory pushed away from the pole and started a leisurely stroll toward the exit. “Hey, forties music was always more your bag than mine. Knock yourself out, Niko.”

  * * * *

  Sofia paced her suite for two hours, debating whether to leave. She’d laid out a substantial amount of cash from her savings account that Rake had never known about for this so-called vacation, and considering she’d ended up with jack shit after the house she’d owned with Rake had finally sold, she needed to hang onto money right now. She doubted they’d give her a refund, and even if they did, where would she go? She couldn’t just keep running the rest of her life.

  Moving out of state was an option, assuming she could find another job. She had the skills and experience to land one, but she loved where she worked and had friends there. Living somewhere else meant starting over, with no support system close by. Was she brave enough to do that? And even if she was, wouldn’t Rake find her anyway?

  Now that she’d told one of the owners where she really worked and what she did there, she’d risked exposure of her true identity, which meant Rake might find her. He seemed to have his hands in everything. And considering he was a vice cop, he probably had informants working here, or at least had his eye on the place. They weren’t breaking any laws by seducing their guests, but the fact someone wasn’t in violation of a city or state ordinance hadn’t deterred Rake on certain occasions in the past.

  Sofia muttered under her breath as she walked into the kitchen and began to open drawers and cabinets. She was hungry. Maybe she should take Reeve up on his invitation to lunch? At the very least, she could learn whether he was suspicious of her. Pacing in her suite wasn’t going to give her answers or help her formulate a plan.

  Her suite contained an assortment of crackers and s
mall jars of jam, tins of tuna fish, and two jars of peanut butter, crunchy and smooth. They thought of everything here. She’d been shocked as hell after checking in to find her fridge stocked with bottled water, flavored water, fresh fruit and vegetables, several sauces for dipping, and an expensive bottle of wine. There was a minibar in her suite, complete with booze. A small brass sign indicated it was complimentary. At least she could get drunk on the house, if push came to shove.

  Sofia poured a glass of Kahlúa and cream, then placed it on the coffee table next to her crackers and peanut butter. She’d never drunk before noon in her life, but planning to hide from one’s crazy ex-husband demanded booze. She flipped through the cable channels, finally settling on an old movie. Daytime TV had never held much interest for her, but Cary Grant was a different matter.

  She laughed when she realized the movie was She Done Him Wrong. “Perfect,” she said. “A vicious criminal out to find and kill his cheating girlfriend. Fuck this.”

  Nothing else was on that would hold her interest, so Sofia left the movie on while she scribbled notes on a pad with the hotel’s crest at the top. She’d always preferred to take notes the old-fashioned way.

  Half an hour later Sofia had more scribbles than plans, “move out of state” was still at the top of the list, and she was quite tipsy from the Kahlúa and cream. She curled up on her side, intending to take no more than a short nap.

  * * * *

  Reeve stared at the computer screen as Gregory rattled on about Frankie Fillipone, the mob boss who once tried to take over Lilith’s Playground during Prohibition, and from whom Blair had been hiding when she’d shown up at the resort in 1936. There was no mistaking the fact Eden Wilderness resembled him. “How much info did you find on his descendants?”

  “Quite a bit. He had four sons and one daughter.” Gregory opened the screen that contained the genealogy website he’d brought up. “All but one son stayed in Chicago. The daughter died in her early twenties.”

  Reeve watched Gregory open various documents on the website. “The son who moved out of state never had any kids that I could find. The other three all married and had kids. Those kids had kids of their own, and most of the grandchildren are now parents. Frankie has sixteen great-grandchildren and two great-great-grandsons.”

  “Too bad he’s been dead for over sixty years.”

  “His great-grandchildren range in age from twenty-seven to thirty-five.”

  Reeve didn’t like the way the hair on his arms suddenly prickled. “And this is important why?”

  “Five are still living in and around Chicago. One just happens to be a thirty-one-year-old woman named Sofia who works at Northern Trust.” Gregory’s grin was predatory as he clicked on a photo.

  “Fuck.” Reeve’s palms grew damp as he stared at Sofia’s smiling face. The caption at the bottom of the photo identified it as the day of her graduation from the MBA program at Kellogg, seven years earlier. “Fucking A. That’s Eden.”

  “Correction. That’s Sofia. Sofia Annunciata Gemma Fillipone Benson Fillipone. She was married to a vice cop in Chicago for three years.” Gregory clicked on another document. “Divorced a year ago and went back to her maiden name.”

  “Holy shit.”

  Gregory and Reeve stared at each other for long moments.

  “It might not mean anything,” said Gregory.

  “Why would she give a fake name and city then?”

  He shrugged. “Hiding from the ex? We’ve seen it before.”

  “We have to tell Zach and the others.”

  “Aren’t you glad now that she said no?”

  Reeve forced himself to smile in response to Gregory’s raucous laughter. This wasn’t the time to tell Gregory to shove it up his ass. He’d done them a huge service, although Reeve wasn’t going to jump to conclusions just yet. Eden—Sofia—didn’t seem like the kind of girl who would make trouble for them. She’d acted more like she was afraid of something, or someone. It was also quite possible she knew next to nothing about her great-grandfather. That wasn’t so unusual these days.

  Gregory leaned back in his chair. “You know, you could just let this play out and see where it goes.”

  “What?”

  “Seduce her. See if she tells you anything. Get close to her and wait for her to come clean.”

  “I’m not like that, Gregory.”

  Gregory leaned forward. “And we’ve never had a descendant of Frankie’s here, posing as someone else. Like I said, it might not mean anything, but we won’t know that if we out her, will we?”

  Reeve narrowed his eyes. “When did you decide to start giving a shit about this place?”

  Gregory shrugged and averted his gaze. “There are only four of us left.”

  “Zach and Emmett are still here. That makes six.”

  Gregory snorted. “And they barely stop fucking Abigail long enough to grace us with their presence. We watched the same thing happen with Leo and Andras, Hugh and Sterling, and Blade and Cristian. Now they’re all dead, or in the case of Blade and Cristian, too old to help run the resort.”

  “Zach and Emmett have always cared more about this place than any of us. They won’t abandon running it. Give them time. It’s only been six weeks since Abigail chose them.”

  A shadow passed over Gregory’s face, and a chill ran through Reeve. It wasn’t like Gregory to be introspective. “Aren’t you worried at all?” he asked.

  “About what?”

  “About what will happen when the last of us choose mortality and there’s no one left to run this place.”

  “I’ve thought about it. I’m sure each of us has. But I have a tough time imagining you or Demetrius choosing mortality, Gregory.”

  Gregory chuckled. “Yeah, well I still think you shouldn’t let this cutie pie do anything to hurt us.”

  “Why me?”

  Gregory grinned. “Because I prefer blondes with long hair.”

  Reeve shook his head. “I don’t know. Let me think about it.”

  He left the office and stepped outside to clear his head. He didn’t need to think about it. He’d wanted Eden—Sofia—the second he’d laid eyes on her. But what kind of a shit would he be if he seduced her merely to find out why she was here? He couldn’t do that.

  But now that he knew who she really was, he had an obligation to tell the others. This was his business as well, and Gregory was right about one thing. There were only six of them left. If he, Niko, Gregory, and Demetrius became mortal, who would be left to run the resort once they all died? None of them could have children, thanks to Lilith’s curse borne out of vengeance. Reeve had a duty to hang onto what they could, or this resort they’d built and run for over ninety years would cease to exist.

  Chapter Three

  Sofia woke up with a headache. What time was it? She flipped off the TV and glanced at the clock on the wall. Just after noon. What kind of a fucked up vacation was this, hiding out in her suite and getting drunk in the morning? Disgusted with herself, she took a long hot shower and put on fresh clothes.

  She should take Reeve up on his offer of lunch, but she had no idea how to find him. Hadn’t he said to ask at the front desk? Sofia strolled into the lobby and glanced around. Several female guests sat around in a group, laughing and talking. An olive-skinned man with dark hair sat in the center, like a sultan. Another owner? What was it with them? They were all gorgeous and charismatic. This place was so fucking weird.

  It wasn’t like she hadn’t been warned. Her coworker, Susan, had told raucous tales of this place that she’d heard from her cousin. Sofia hadn’t believed most of them, but now she wondered if they might not be true after all.

  The gum-snapping girl named Tiffany who had checked her in was at the front desk again today, and she smiled warmly as Sofia caught her glance. “Miss Wilderness, how nice to see you again. Is there anything I can do for you?”

  Sofia wandered over, wincing at the use of her fake name. Ever since her conversation with Reeve she
hadn’t been able to shake the thought that he’d known somehow she was a phony. “Hi, Tiffany. I was actually looking for Reeve—Mr. Neville. He said you’d know how to find him.”

  “He’s in a meeting. Is there something I can assist with?” Sofia whirled around as the scent of lilacs overpowered her senses. The man with the low, sexy voice was tall with brown hair that fell over his forehead. She wanted to brush it aside to get a better look at eyes as blue as a summer sky.

  He stuck out his hand. “Nikolas Fallon, one of the owners. Everyone calls me Niko.”

  “Eden Wilderness.” The same jolt of electricity that had shot through her arm when she first shook hands with Reeve happened again. What the hell was going on here?

  “Pretty name. I understand you’re from Boise.”

  “Y–yes. That’s right.” This man looked at her with such intensity Sofia began to sweat in places she hadn’t realized she could. His gaze was so penetrating she was sure he could read her thoughts. The air in the lobby became charged, as though a storm was brewing. She glanced toward the front doors, expecting to see that the sunny day had turned dark and threatening.

  “I’d love to hear more about it,” he said. “Have you had lunch yet?”

  His eyes became even bluer as she stared into them. Sofia had the feeling she could dive right into the bottomless lake they now resembled, and if she did, she’d never resurface. Instead of filling her with fear, the idea mesmerized her as if she’d waited her entire life to do exactly that.

  Niko held out his arm, and Sofia took it, blinking a few times to clear her head. She was still a bit tipsy and tired. That was all. Not to mention starving, but at least her headache was gone.

  “Let’s get you something to eat,” he said. “Tiffany, will you have sandwiches and a two-liter bottle of ginger ale sent up to my suite?”

  “Sure thing.”

  As Niko led her to the elevators, Sofia held onto his arm to steady herself. She was never drinking again. Inside the elevator, the smell of lilacs was stronger. Where was it coming from? They didn’t bloom in March. Was it coming from him? That was impossible.