Not An Angel (A Poryria Vampire Novel (Book 1))

by Dawn Chartier

  He understood her wanting time by herself. She wanted time to think, alone. Before he realized it, he bent forward, moving closer. But before his lips met hers, a car engine roared in the distance. She fled, ending the trance that held him captive, as though someone said: Wake up idiot.

  She’d given him the answer to his silent question when she spun away and went to her car. Friends only.

  “Don’t drive too fast,” she yelled back as she neared her car...”

  What the hell was he thinking? “All right. I’ll go slow.” He didn’t want to lose her with the sharp curves and winding roads. She’d surely get lost. His house was partly hidden in the woods, but that wasn’t what he was referring to. This connection—whatever it was, would take time. If he was willing to go leisurely and find out where the twists would bring them.

  When he lifted his head, he caught a whiff of a familiar scent. Someone he’d once met. He couldn’t place it. He spun around and scanned the area. The wind shifted south and the scent was lost. Gone.

  Chapter 5

  Enraged, Jeff stood at the foot of the bridge staring. He knew she would come to pick up her car. When he saw her leave with a man in the parking lot, he’d followed them. However, he hadn’t made his presence known. Instead, he hid in the bushes. Watching.

  Who was he? Why was he with Kira?

  His hands fisted as he watched the man touch her face. Rage filled him instantly. He wanted to kill him and maybe her too. Kira was his. He wasn’t about to let another man take her away.

  He’d already killed for her. Once more wouldn’t make a damn difference.

  *******

  “Kira meet Mike, my brother.”

  An odd sensation lit her brain. She knew Trace had a brother, and she also knew he was teaching him something, though she no idea what. How could that be?

  She blinked at the massive man with bulging muscles standing before her. His clothes appeared as though they were about to explode off him. Trace was built extremely well, but his brother resembled Arnold. She extended her hand waiting for Mike to take it. He didn’t. He didn’t like her. “Nice to meet you,” she forced out, not sure why he acted cold toward her.

  “Mike. Can I talk to you for a moment?” Trace walked out of the room ahead of Mike.

  Kira relaxed a little now that Mike was not staring down his nose at her. As she closed her eyes she opened them back immediately. A weird vibe settled in her core. She made a quick sweep of the living room, which appeared the same size as her entire house. Well, the house she used to live in. The modern furniture blended warmly with leather and wood pieces, while the large cobblestone fireplace ascended the entire rear wall. Comfy. It was a perfect picture right out of a Colorado snow cabin magazine.

  Oddly, the only thing missing were windows to see snowy mountains and beautiful clear skies. Not that there were any of those things in St. Roseville, Louisiana. Woods surrounded this lovely home. She ran her fingers over the neutral taupe sofa, which matched the wheat and gold toned walls. As she walked around the coffee table, the wooden planked floor creaked beneath her steps. She stopped.

  The sounds of footsteps approached the room. Trace and Mike reentered, and exchanged a quick glare at each other.

  Mike raised his hand. “It is nice to meet a friend of Trace’s.”

  Yeah right! Trace forced him to do this. He didn’t want her there with Trace. She managed a smile.

  “Yes. I do.” Mike clipped each word.

  Kira froze. “What?”

  Trace cleared his throat. “I said would either of you like something to drink.”

  She blinked. Had Trace said something? She hadn’t heard him if he had.

  “I’ll fix it.” Mike turned on his heels and strode out the room.

  “No. Thanks,” she called out after Mike.

  Trace gestured for her to sit on the sofa. “Excuse him. He’s in rare form today.”

  Good. She certainly hoped he didn’t treat all Trace’s friends that way. “If this is a bad time—I can leave.”

  She wasn’t sure where she would go yet. She only knew the direction would be somewhere north. She stood. Better to do it now before things got any more awkward.

  He sat on the couch patting the leather. “Wait. Please have a seat.”

  She hesitated. What was she doing? Sure, Trace made her feel safe, but he wasn’t a real part of her life, and she couldn’t drag him into it more than she’d already done. The last few men in her life had died because of her. First, the man she ran away with when she was a young teenager, trying to get away from her foster home. He died in a tragic car accident soon after she ran away with him. Then her husband when he shot himself. Maybe it was a curse. She didn’t want anything to harm him. She sensed him to be a good man, and being here with him… her voice betrayed her. All she wanted was to sit back and relax for once. “Okay. For a little while. Then I have to leave.”

  He nodded. “Good. Would you like to watch something on TV?”

  That was the last thing she expected him to say. Such simple entertainment. Perfect. “Sounds great.” Anything to keep her mind occupied, away from Jeff and his absurd notion of taking control of her life.

  Trace grabbed a remote, pressed a button and the television came on. He pressed another button and the lights dimmed, and the fireplace roared to life. The man had a thing for high-tech gadgets. Re-runs of the “Three Stooges” played across the plasma. How did he know she loved the Stooges?

  She stole glances at Trace throughout the show. A slight smile tugged at his lips every now and then. Then again, he didn’t appear the type of man to watch comedy shows. Maybe he was doing this for her benefit. The thought made the tension in her body slowly ease. Nevertheless, in the real world, she didn’t know much about him at all. Being here was probably not a good idea. Taking chances like this wasn’t like her at all, but for the moment, this one moment, she couldn’t think of anywhere else she should be. Anywhere else, she needed to be.

  She snuggled deeper into the couch enjoying his company and the comedy. To sit back and not think about painful things was heaven. A peaceful silence filled the space between them. Not having to answer questions or explain herself to anyone for a change had her accepting being with a stranger with a little less caution. Now, she didn’t want to think of herself as a fool, but this man risked his own life for hers.

  So she stayed longer than planned. Truth was she wanted to be here with him. She was curious to know more about this mysterious man. Trace placed his arm behind her casually, perching it on the couch. He glanced at her for her approval, and she smiled telling him it was okay. He wasn’t doing anything over the line, a perfect gentleman in fact. She sighed quietly with relief.

  “I can’t understand how I allowed myself to get to the point of jumping.” It came out of nowhere. She inhaled and everything slammed her at once. That night had been the weakest moment in her life. Loneliness overtook her. She could barely remember driving to the bridge. How could she have allowed herself to get so down? So depressed?

  The pills Jeff gave her, they made her miserable. She’d heard voices that hadn’t been there. The doctor insisted he found other drugs in her system. Could that be true? At first, Steve had given her the Percocet to help with her mourning of Bre’s unexpected death. Then Jeff had kept her supplied with them after his death. She closed her eyes. Steve wouldn’t have given her anything to hurt her, but Jeff on the other hand...her belly turned queasy at the thought of Jeff possibly tricking her with drugs.

  Trace twisted to face her. He tilted his head and his eyes searched hers. “Hey. It’s okay. You wanted the pain to go away. I can relate.” He raised his shoulder.

  Coldness settled in the pit of her stomach. “Yes.

  I did want the pain to go away. But—”

  “But the real question is—did you truly want to die?”

  She shook her head. “No. I never wanted that. I would have traded places with Bre, but I never wanted to kill myself.”r />
  He nodded. “I already knew your answer, but you needed to hear it.”

  How had he known? Now that she could think a little clearer, something told her it wasn’t her fault that she ended up on the bridge trying to take her life. She rubbed her temples. Now that the drugs were easing out of her system, she considered it could be the cause of the strange pressure headaches. She wasn’t so sure anymore.

  Trace touched her shoulder and she tensed. He immediately dropped his hand to his leg. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so forward. You’re hurting, and I want to comfort you.”

  Her breath caught. His dark blue eyes melted all coherent thoughts. His beautiful lips slightly parted. What was wrong with her? She wanted to trace their perfect outline.

  He whispered, “Will you let me?”

  She swallowed hard. He continued to penetrate her with his stare. She shouldn’t, but she couldn’t stop the gravity pulling her toward him.

  “I feel lost, but—” Her breasts felt heavy when she inhaled. She couldn’t stop. The ache to feel good once more. Anything other than the sorrow, swallowing her whole. Anything but the pain.

  He leaned closer, his breath brushing her face. His scent flared in the pit of her stomach. His musky aroma smelled different—different in a good way. Intoxicating.

  Her stomach clenched. She didn’t want to ruin this moment, whatever it was. What was this connection she felt toward him? She blew it off as one of those things that happens between two people when one saves the other. Maybe, she wasn’t the only woman who became radically attracted to a man who saved her life. Some type of shock syndrome or something. She licked her lips and his gaze shot to her mouth. She couldn’t think about the way her body tingled with the intensity of his stare.

  “But?” He leaned closer.

  She’d forgotten she’d said anything. “But you make me—”

  *******

  A throat cleared behind them. “Sorry.” Kira eased away from him.

  Damn it, Mike.

  Mike shrugged.

  “What is it?” Trace asked and then stood. The connection made with Kira ended abruptly. When her pain had called to him, he’d forgotten everything but the desire to ease her ache.

  “We have an appointment. We’re behind schedule already.” Mike glanced at Kira coldly.

  “I’ll meet you out front shortly,” Trace told Mike. He would set him straight later. Mike turned quickly and marched out of the room.

  Damn. He’d already put the Council off for one night, he couldn’t do it a second. He had to take care of the Vry problem at once. Trace sat, and then ran his hand through his hair and turned toward Kira. “I’m sorry. I forgot about this meeting. I have to go.”

  Tonight a team of Vry hunters gathered in separate places in St. Roseville in an attempt to stop the rogue, who they suspected of wanting to expose them. Trace, one of the most powerful, knew his duty was to take to the streets, help with Poryria in training. Teach them the way of their future. The future of the Guardians. Trace could hear Mike’s footsteps, pacing back and forth in the kitchen. Mike had waited for this night.

  He couldn’t let Mike down. He’d never hear the end of it. He turned and glanced at Kira, and realized he actually enjoyed sitting with her. When she licked her bottom lip, he’d almost lost it. Maybe Mike’s timing was right on. He knew he shouldn’t take advantage of her like that.

  She smiled as though reading his mind. No, she couldn’t know what he wanted to do with her right this second. His eyes lowered to the “v” of her t-shirt. Hell, he ached so much.

  The yearning echoed through his entire soul. Everything about her was familiar to him. However, he wanted to know more. Being near her and being with his kind were two different feelings. He couldn’t explain it. But it was very different. His people didn’t use emotions. They had them, but kept them for the most part hidden. It was a sign of weakness. He was feeling pretty damn weak right now.

  Kira nodded and twisted her fingers around an unusual rope style necklace. “I should be going,” she said.

  “Wait. Why don’t you stay? Mike and I will be out all night. You can have the house to yourself instead of driving all night. The pantry is bare, but I believe we have a few things in the fridge if you get hungry.” Sometimes he ate. Sometimes he didn’t. Blood nourished him more than food ever would. It gave him the fuel he needed for his Poryria abilities and kept him sane. Especially, when hunting.

  “I really should go.” Kira touched his hand. “Thanks for this lovely evening.”

  They both stood at the same moment.

  Trace showed her out, and walked with her to her Honda. He reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet, and then handed her his business card. He debated persuading her to stay. “Call me on my cell phone as soon as you get to your destination.” Being a better man meant letting her go—at least that’s what he told himself.

  Kira lowered her chin. “I’m not sure when that will be. I’ve got a long drive ahead.”

  He took her hand, and didn’t want to let go. She had no idea where she was going. She could get lost, or worse, get hurt. “Please stay.” He had no clue it would be this hard. He read her face. She wouldn’t call him.

  “I can’t stay, but I’ll call as soon as I can.”

  He pulled her into his arms and held her. The warmth of her skin ate at him. He wanted to run his hands underneath her thin shirt. He inhaled her sweet honey scent deep into his lungs and into his pores. He had to get a grip before she bolted.

  When did he turn into such a sap? Humans were not his thing. So why didn’t he want her to leave? His arms prickled with anxiety.

  “Crushing—me,” Kira squeaked.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t realize my strength sometimes.” His weakness stood before him. He reluctantly released her.

  She slid into her car and closed the door. Her gaze met his and held for a second. Would she change her mind? Did she feel the pull too? Please change your mind. He thought it, but wouldn’t will it. If she wanted to see him again, it would be on her terms.

  She rolled down the window and waved before starting the engine.

  “Sweet dreams,” he said before he could stop himself. He hoped he’d find her in his.

  Her eyes narrowed slightly and she angled her head. No. she didn’t know anything. He still wondered himself if it had truly happened. But she had said his name in the hospital. Nah.

  “Sweet dreams,” she said in a puzzled tone.

  Damn it. Why was he letting her go? Trace watched her drive away. He frowned. Be safe my sweet mortal.

  He closed his eyes. He’d planned on giving her the cell phone Mike refused to use. But, he didn’t have the chance. Instead, he slipped it into her purse at the last second when she hadn’t been looking.

  Pressing a single button would automatically dial his cell. Once she realized it was there, she’d call him and chew him out, no doubt. A man has to do what a man has to do. Oh hell. He was slowly falling for her human charm.

  He rushed inside and stopped short before hitting what he knew would feel like a brick wall. Mike. “Ready to kick some Vry ass?”

  Chapter 6

  After driving over an hour, she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. She’d wanted to make it into another state before stopping, but she could no longer fight the exhaustion that gripped her.

  She thought about Trace’s comment. “Sweet dreams.” The strange look in his eyes hinted at the dreams they seem to have shared. Impossible.

  However, that knowing look…as though he’d experienced the same passion. Don’t be stupid. All he said was sweet dreams. He meant nothing by it. Whatever drugs laced her system, must still linger. That must be the real explanation of the strange moments between them.

  Kira pulled over at the first flashing neon sign that said vacancy. She locked her car, ran inside the cheap sleazy motel, and paid the tall slinky motel clerk. His beady eyes skimmed her up and down and she fought the urge to tell him, no
t in his lifetime. Instead, she rushed out without looking back.

  She found her room on the first floor. Kira yawned as she unlocked and then locked the door to her room. A red globe lamp dimly lit the hotel room, which hung from the ceiling by a rusty chain. The soft glow reflected on the gigantic sag in the middle of the queen-sized bed. It probably drooped all the way to the floor beneath. With her luck, she’d sink in the middle and never find her way out.

  She shook her head and forced her legs to move in the direction of the bathroom. She swung the door closed and noticed a robe hook on the door. She hung her purse on it. Exhaustion tugged on her eyes.

  After rinsing her mouth with the small mouthwash sample, she ran her hands through her hair and scratched her head while scanning the stale moldy room. She needed a toothbrush and otherthings. At least she didn’t have any clothes to put away.

  She yanked the yellowish stained comforter off the droopy bed and let it fall on the orange-seventies dirty carpet. She hated to think that the last time anyone washed the sheets was in the seventies.

  As tired as her body felt, her mind wouldn’t stop. Recalled conversations with Trace wouldn’t allow her the peace she so desperately needed. Truth was, she had wanted to stay with him, but she couldn’t.

  He offered his friendship, with the hint that there could be more. She squeezed her eyes closed. Enough torture. Enough wanting to be with a stranger who had rescued her.

  But a familiar stranger. A sexy as hell stranger. The man from her dreams. The man who saved her life.

  The man she wished to join her once more in her fantasies.

  Kira thought about it. What would one more night with Trace hurt? Tomorrow she would call him and see if he wanted to—no. Stop thinking about him.

  Finally, her mind surrendered to the slumber that consumed her.

  As she slipped deeper and deeper, a sudden thought jerked her awake. She’d forgotten to call Trace like he’d asked her to. She couldn’t be rude after all he’s done for her. She reached in the darkness with her eyes closed for the telephone on the nightstand.