Angel's Kiss

by Melanie Tomlin

  Danny kissed my forehead, disentangled himself from the blankets that had somehow wrapped themselves around him, and left the room. If our roles were reversed I probably would have stayed in the room while he changed. I guess that was the difference between us — he was a gentleman and I was a tramp.

  I slipped into casual gear, picked up the overnight bag — it was bursting at the seams — and headed towards the living area. Normally a bag of this size would’ve been difficult for me to carry, but I managed it with ease. Being stronger was a real plus!

  Danny laughed when he saw my bag. “What’s the saying I’ve heard mortals use?”

  I knew exactly what he meant. “Do you mean about taking everything but the kitchen sink?”

  “Yes, that’s it. If we had a sink in the kitchen you’d probably have packed it as well!”

  “I could always get the basin from the bathroom,” I warned him.

  He shook his head, laughing, and raised his hands in mock defeat. When I smiled back at him he dropped his hands to his side.

  “How do you feel about trying to transport us to where we want to go?” Danny asked.

  “I don’t know how to do it.”

  “I’ll provide some guidance. You remember the La’miere hotel?”

  I nodded my head. I had frequented the La’miere hotel a lot before the preacher claimed ownership of my body. Danny would have known, from my memories, that I’d been there on numerous occasions.

  “How do you feel about ending up in an elevator again?” he asked. “Don’t worry. I’ll be with you and the power will be on. It won’t be dark.”

  “I… I don’t know. What if I panic?” The thought of being back in a box still scared the shit out of me.

  “If you panic I’ll get you out of there straight away, I promise,” Danny said, reassuringly.

  I sighed. Gotta get back on the old horse, Helena.

  “Okay, what do I need to do?”

  “Give me that bag first.”

  I handed the bag over to Danny and he slung it over his shoulder. He held out both his hands and I took them, no questions asked.

  “Think of an empty elevator in the La’miere hotel and will us there. Close your eyes if it helps you to concentrate.”

  I closed my eyes and thought about the La’miere hotel and how I’d travelled in the elevators many times, always with a companion on my way up, but on my own on the way down. It was the nature of my work.

  “We’re here,” Danny said.

  I opened my eyes and we were in an elevator with soft lighting. Danny pressed the ground button, and my stomach lurched as we made the descent. When the doors opened we stepped out and Danny stood to one side.

  “I’ll wait here,” he said. “The reservation is under the name of Mr and Mrs Dan Malakh.”

  “Malakh — that’s an unusual name. Is there any significance?” I asked.

  “Roughly translated in English it means messenger angel. I thought it sounded more acceptable than Mr and Mrs Angel,” he chuckled.

  I laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re funny.”

  16. City Sights

  I headed to the front desk and drummed my fingers on the counter. When the man on the other side looked up I said, “Hi, I have a reservation for Malakh.”

  He typed the name into the computer and scanned what came up on the screen.

  “Yes, Mrs Malakh, here we are. The penthouse suite.”

  He doesn’t do things in half measures, I thought.

  The room was already paid for — that figures — and when I’d signed in the clerk handed me a card to access the room.

  “Do you require any help with your bags, Mrs Malakh?” he enquired.

  “No, my husband,” I pointed to Danny, who was waiting for me near the elevator, “has it all taken care of.”

  “Enjoy your stay, Mrs Malakh.”

  “Thank you, I’m sure we will.”

  I forced myself to walk slowly back to Danny. Inside I was dying to see the penthouse suite. It was probably the only room in this hotel I hadn’t been in.

  Danny pressed the button to call the elevator as I reached his side.

  “The penthouse suite, Mr Malakh?” I whispered with a smile.

  He grinned. “Only the best for you, Mrs Malakh.”

  The penthouse suite was huge. Easily three times the size of the cottage. The bathroom alone was as big as the cottage. I saw the shower, a monstrous affair with rosettes at each end, and thought about how long it’d been since I last had one.

  “Come and take a look at this,” I called out to Danny.

  He walked to the bathroom door and, not paying attention to what I was pointing at, said, “That’s certainly some big bath.”

  He’d seen the four-person spa bath. Maybe he’d never had a spa.

  “No, silly,” I laughed. “Take a look at the shower. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a shower?”

  He shook his head.

  “Since about a week before I met you, a lifetime ago.”

  “That long, hey?” he chuckled.

  “Oh, Danny, I’d really like to take a shower before we head out to see the sights. Come and try it.”

  “I’ve never had one before. I’ve been caught in the rain showers, but I’ve never bathed in one of these things.”

  I pulled him into the bathroom and shut the door.

  “Trust me, you’ll enjoy it.”

  I turned on both showers and when the room was hot and steamy, stripped off, my back to Danny. I stepped into the shower and shivered with delight. It was lovely and hot, and the pressure was fantastic, massaging needles on my neck and back.

  “Come in, Danny,” I called out.

  I heard the shower door open and close, and his arms wrapped around me.

  “Turn around,” I told him. “Let me wash your back.”

  He turned around and I ran the soap up and down the length of his back. When he was sufficiently lathered I popped the soap back in its dish and began to slowly massage his back, kneading the muscles in a circular motion as my hands worked their way downward. When I reached the area below the lumbar spine, Danny’s glutes tightened expectantly. I turned him slightly, so the water ran down his back, and washed away the remaining soapsuds. From this angle I could tell that he’d enjoyed the massage.

  I smiled. “My turn now.”

  I gathered my hair in both hands, twisted it around a couple of times, then draped it over my shoulder. I turned my back to Danny and shivered at the thought of his hands on my body.

  He picked up the soap and lathered my back quickly. The soap slipped out of his hands and he made no effort to retrieve it. To do so would have broken the spell that bound us together by these simple acts we were performing.

  Danny’s hands, warm and strong, massaged my back gently. I could feel knots being worked out and sighed. I felt his lips brush my nape. My body tingled and ached at the same time. His hands caressed my body and his lips continued to kiss my neck. Why does everyone seem to be preoccupied with my neck?

  “I never realised how many times your neck has been bitten,” he murmured in my ear as he gently nibbled the lobe.

  It was hard to concentrate on anything else.

  “How can you tell, there are no visible marks?” I asked.

  “I can sense them.”

  “Sometimes it’s easier to bare your neck, be bitten, and let them think they have a fighting chance,” I purred.

  The nibbling on my ear was driving me wild, my breaths short and shallow. I twisted in his arms, seeking his lips with mine, and found bliss…

  Danny lay on his side and leaned on his elbow, his free hand tracing wavy patterns on my arm. He smiled a decidedly wicked smile, for an angel.

  “I’m thinking I might have to install one of those in the cottage.”

  “I know I was dying for a shower, and they’re great if you want to clean up quickly,” I placed my hand on his hip and drew myself a little closer, until I co
uld feel his warm breath on my face, “but have you ever had a spa bath?”

  He laughed, picked me up from the bed and carried me to the bathroom. The bath, not surprisingly, was already full, the jets swirling. Bubbles rose above the sides of the bath like a well-risen soufflé and I heard the faint, yet familiar bubbly murmuring sound they made as we pierced them climbing in — such fun, such fun!

  As we came up for air — even angels need a break — Danny sighed happily.

  “I think I’m going to need to do some major renovations to the cottage.”

  “You know what would be great?” I said wistfully. “A swimming pool.”

  “What would we need a pool for?” he asked.

  “Have you ever been skinny dipping?”

  He laughed. “Perhaps I was wrong. Maybe you are a perverter of angels after all — a seductress.”

  “Ah, Mr Malakh, I’m only the perverter of one angel,” I said, and slid under the water again.

  Later, much later really — the sun had already set — I chose what I’d wear for our assault on the night. Something that would look stunning and draw the eye. Danny lay on the bed watching me. He wasn’t worried about clothing. He had only to think about it and he’d be clothed.

  What a time saver that would be, I thought.

  I looked at the bottles of perfume, trying to decide which one to wear.

  “Danny, what do I smell like?”

  I could see the confusion on his face. Maybe my question wasn’t worded right.

  “Vampires and werewolves have a distinctive scent,” I said, sorting through the bottles of perfume. “So do you. And the mortals I’ve come in contact with recently also have a smell that defines them as mortal. The only exception I’ve seen so far is the varakiana.”

  I spotted a perfume that seemed perfect.

  Angel, I laughed. I’ll wear Angel. How fitting!

  “What’s so funny?” Danny asked.

  “The perfume.” I held up the bottle of Angel. “It’s actually one of my favourites.”

  “I know,” Danny smiled. “Anyway, your scent… that’s what you want to know about, isn’t it?” I nodded. “It’s fresh and clean. Not quite mortal, but definitely not vampire. There’s something there I should know, but I can’t pick it. It’s a pleasant, pure and calming scent. I like it, and it suits you.”

  “That’s nice to know. I’d hate to smell like a vamp.”

  I picked up my chosen outfit — a seductively chic ruby red dress with matching shoes and clutch — and sashayed to the bathroom, wiggling my booty on the way. I’d been told, on many occasions, that I had great legs — legs that went all the way to a fantastic arse. A woman will use any weapon in her arsenal when she has to, and tonight I’d pull out all the stops.

  I poked my head around the door and called out, “I’ll be back in about half an hour.”

  “Half an hour?” Danny yelled back. “Are you serious?”

  “The wait will be worth it, believe me!”

  There was a hairdryer in the bathroom, which meant I was able to style my hair into something more presentable. After I’d applied the finishing touches — makeup and a few sprays of perfume on some pulse points — I took a deep breath and returned to where Danny waited patiently for me.

  He stood up the moment I entered the room and let out a low appreciative whistle. I’d never heard him whistle before. I wondered if it was something he’d picked up during his long hours of patrolling.

  “You look… breathtaking!” he said.

  I smiled and twirled, allowing him to see the entire outfit.

  “I’m glad I added that to your wardrobe. There will be more than one man in hospital tonight suffering from cardiac arrest, mark my words!”

  “Danny, that’s not my intention,” I laughed. “And what will you be wearing tonight, Mr Malakh? Clothes I hope.”

  “Close your eyes,” he said, and I did. “You can open them now.”

  What he’d chosen to wear was a modern take on an old classic — the suit. The cut and colour suited him well and a shirt that was open at the neck with no tie completed the picture.

  “You scrub up quite well for the woodsy outdoor type,” I said.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he laughed, holding out his arm. “Shall we, Mrs Malakh?”

  I linked my arm in his and we headed out into the night.

  The lights were just as I remembered them, the tall skyscrapers all calling out look at me with their myriad of flashing neon lights or advertising. I’d always liked the lights.

  We walked hand in hand through a park, sticking to the path after we’d discovered that the heels of my stilettos sank in the grassed area. Danny had cleaned off the dirt and they were as good as new, my ruby red slippers.

  Three clicks of the heels and you get to go home.

  I showed Danny all of my old haunts — the ones in the better part of town — and restaurants I’d been taken to. There was no need to, I knew. He’d already seen all these places in my mind, and on patrol, yet somehow it was seemed more real with him actually there. He never once complained, made derogatory remarks or became impatient. He let me take things at my own time.

  At around one in the morning, when we’d been walking for close to five hours — thank goodness my feet didn’t hurt — I steered Danny in a new direction. This was the part of town decent folk, people who weren’t involved in anything sinister or criminal, didn’t go to.

  Danny stopped me as we neared the invisible border between good and bad, and asked, “Are you sure you want to do this. It won’t matter to me.”

  “It matters to me,” I replied. “Doesn’t my past bother you?”

  “What you’ve done in the past, not in the slightest. You did what you had to in order to survive. You don’t realise how rare it is for someone who has been through so much to come out so clean and pure. It’s miraculous.”

  “Pure? Hah!” I snorted. “Don’t patronise me, Danny.”

  “I’m not. Your soul is still pure,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Now, what others have done to you, that’s a different story. That does bother me, but their time will come. The time comes when everyone is judged.”

  “Come on,” I said. “Old friends await.”

  I expected to feel something as we crossed the line, yet there was nothing. No fear, no anxiety, no anger nor regret. All the years I had longed to be gone from this place, to be free of it, and here I was again.

  We walked past a number of bars, clubs and strip joints, stopping until we reached the pinnacle of Sleazeville — The Cage. It was the place to go, the place to be seen — in the underworld — and the place you were most likely to disappear from, never to be seen again. Kind of cement-shoes, bottom-of-the-harbour type stuff. To the unsuspecting outsider — tourists were quite often foolish enough to venture here — it looked like a hip and modern club, out of place among the garbage. That’s exactly how the preacher liked it.

  The preacher… Now there was a title to make you wonder. He’d preach, though nothing good people would like to hear — and those who needed something, or someone, to follow were converted. He thought of himself as a saint, someone upon whom God had placed a terrible burden. He was twisted and warped. No God would have asked him to do the things he’d done, or commanded to be done.

  It was time for someone to preach to the preacher.

  A few doors down from The Cage I kissed Danny on the cheek and let go of his hand.

  “Trust me,” I said.

  He nodded, and we continued on to the front door. I could have easily headed around the back, but I wanted to make an entrance. I smiled at the bully boy babysitting the door.

  “How are you, Sam?”

  Sam nodded at me and unhooked the rope that was meant to stop people from wandering in off the street. It was all part of the illusion of making The Cage appear to be a classy and respectable place.

  “Helena. Haven’t seen you around for a while.”

  “I’v
e been… preoccupied,” and I smiled in Danny’s direction.

  “The preacher ain’t gonna like it,” Sam replied, shaking his head from side to side.

  I laughed as I sauntered through the entry, Danny close behind me.

  All the regulars were there. I could feel their eyes on me as I headed to the bar, their conversations dropping to a low murmur.

  I leaned against the bar to talk to the barman — my short dress revealing the slightest glimpse of where my legs ended — and wiggled my butt.

  “Hey, Rick, is preacher boy out the back?”

  Rick turned from what he was doing. For a moment a look of surprise flitted across his face.

  “Don’t let him hear you call him that, Helena. You’re in enough shit as it is.”

  “Your concern touches me, Rick, but I can hardly get in any deeper, can I? I mean, being on his hit list is as far as I can go.”

  He set down the glass he was drying and placed his hands on the counter. “You haven’t heard then? That order was rescinded.” He tilted his head and gave me a half smile. “The new order is for you to be taken to the funhouse.”

  “Ah, the funhouse.”

  That was a bit of a surprise. The preacher must have been really mad at me to order me tortured instead of killed outright. Maybe he was angry because I’d eluded his henchmen for so long. I turned around, my back to Rick, and rested my elbows on the bar, my eyes surveying the room for signs of trouble. I bent my right knee, hooked the heel of my shoe over the footrest, and, leaning my head back, allowed my hair to barely touch the bar. It was all very suggestive.

  “So is he in or not?” I asked.

  “What do you reckon?” he snorted. “You’ve been here often enough, you should know.”

  Danny leaned against the bar, a few metres from me, listening to the exchange. The fellow on my left edged a bit closer, trying to get a better look at my cleavage.

  I raised my head and turned slightly to look at the man. He wasn’t a regular. If he was he would have known better than to come so close to me.

  “Can I help you?” I asked.