Angel's Kiss

by Melanie Tomlin

  He pulled back and hesitated, before saying, “How much?”

  “How much for what?”

  “Look, lady, how much do you charge? I’ve got an itch,” he smiled at me now, “and I reckon you could scratch it for me.”

  “Sorry, I’m already taken,” I purred.

  “Maybe later then?” He waved a thick wad of cash under my nose. “I can pay. If your performance is as good as your looks, there might even be a bonus in it for you.”

  Funny how his sort thought money was the answer to everything. At one time, I would have agreed with him.

  “Tempting as your offer is, I think I’ll pass.”

  I tipped my head back to look at Rick. The guy who’d propositioned me grabbed my wrist, wrenching my arm off the bar. I continued to smile, and it annoyed him all the more.

  “Listen, you slut, when Johnny makes an offer, you should accept. It’s in your best interests. You don’t want your pretty face getting messed up, do you?”

  Danny was at my side before I had a chance to open my mouth and reply. His hand gripped Johnny’s arm, applying the slightest of pressure — for an angel — to make Johnny go a pasty-white colour. He let go of my wrist.

  “I think the lady said no.”

  Danny eased his grip and Johnny pulled his arm free.

  He rubbed his arm. “Okay, okay. Can’t you guys take a little joke?”

  Danny patted Johnny’s left cheek a couple of times and smiled. “Yeah, Johnny, we can.”

  We headed towards the back room. I pushed past the heavies — they didn’t even try to stop me — without a hello, to open the door.

  “Hey, preacher boy, how’s it hanging?” I smiled, then hit my forehead with my palm, overacting. “That’s right, to the left. How could I forget?”

  “What did you call me?” he growled.

  “What? No hello, no it’s been a long time or you’re looking good?”

  I sat down in the armchair on the audience side of the preacher’s desk and crossed my legs. I patted the arm of the chair, inviting Danny to come sit at his rightful place — next to me. After Danny had settled himself I looked back at the preacher.

  “Forgive me, preacher, how rude I am. Allow me to introduce you to my associate, Mr Malakh.”

  The preacher looked at Danny — a passing glimpse really — and sneered.

  “Huh! You think bringing along a bit of muscle, nothing more than a pretty boy, by the looks of him, is going to scare me.”

  I stroked Danny’s chest.

  “He is pretty, isn’t he? But no, he’s not here to protect me. He’s here to protect you if I decide to do something… rash.”

  The preacher leaned back in his chair and laughed.

  “You’ve sure got balls, Helena, for a woman. It’s a pity there’s still a contract on your head.”

  Seemed I was being pitied by all the wrong types these days!

  “I heard the hit had been rescinded.”

  The preacher leaned forward, suddenly interested in my intentions. “Is that why you came back? You thought it was safe?”

  “Hardly,” I laughed.

  The preacher flexed his fingers and smiled. “Then you’ve heard about the funhouse contract?”

  “Of course,” I replied. “Rick brought me up to speed. He’s always good for a bit of gossip.”

  “Is that so? Remind me to have a quiet word with Rick later on.”

  “Now we’ve dispensed with the pleasantries, Neil, let’s get down to business.”

  “You may have once earned the right to call me that name in private,” the preacher cautioned me, “but all your privileges were cut off when I ordered the hit.”

  “Frankly, Neil, I couldn’t care less. We wouldn’t even be having this conversation if you could’ve kept your dick in your pants. She was only fourteen for god’s sake.”

  I uncrossed my legs and leaned forward in the chair, resting my elbows on my knees and my chin in my hands.

  “By the way, how is the cobra?”

  “He performs perfectly well now, no thanks to you.”

  I stood up and walked to the desk, looking for something suitable to use in a short demonstration. I picked up the small hard marble bust that sat on one corner — the bust in his own image — and tossed it from hand to hand.

  “I came to give you a warning, preacher boy.”

  He sneered. “I think after the funhouse I’ll let the boys have their own bit of fun with what’s left of you, before they give you a Colombian necktie.”

  “Now, now,” I said. “That’s not very nice.”

  “And what are you and your associate going to do about it?”

  “As I said before, Mr Malakh is here for your protection.”

  “Hurry up, Helena. My time is valuable, unlike yours,” Neil said impatiently. “Do whatever it is you came here to do. I’ve got someone waiting upstairs.”

  I put down the bust and clapped my hands in mock glee. “Ah, the latest acquisition! I hope she’s better behaved than I was — and legal.”

  The preacher grunted in response.

  “Back to business,” I said. “I do get distracted so easily.”

  I picked up the bust in my left hand, cast a glance back at Danny, and winked before returning my gaze to the preacher.

  “If I ever hear that you have underage girls — or boys — in this club again, if I ever hear you’ve been involved with them, in any shape, form or manner, I will crush you.”

  I held the bust over the desk at chest height — bust the bust at the level of my bust — and squeezed until a small pile of rubble was all that remained of it, the pieces falling from my hand onto the preacher’s desk. His eyes widened as he realised what I’d done. At what I was capable of doing.

  Without waiting for an answer, I dusted off my hands and headed to the door. Danny reached the door ahead of me and opened it. He let the door close behind me. When I noticed he wasn’t following I stopped and waited for him. A few seconds later he opened the door, smiling.

  “What did you say to him?” I whispered.

  He laughed. “I told him next time I’d let you come on your own!”

  I hit his arm playfully. “Danny, you’re worse than me!”

  We linked arms and walked out of The Cage, not looking back, and not caring if the preacher was busy organising a hundred hits on us. It was ancient history.

  “I don’t quite understand what it was you did to him, to make him so mad. I mean, I saw what you did, from your memories, but it doesn’t make much sense to me,” Danny said.

  “Do you know what super glue is?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Super glue is a very strong, quick-setting glue. After I’d found out what he’d done to that girl — she was just a kid, a virgin — while he slept I glued his dick to his balls, and both hands to his dick. He’s a very heavy sleeper. That’s why he has guards on his bedroom door. Fat lot of good they did him!”

  I laughed. I could just image the look on the preacher’s face when he woke up in the morning. The rumours about what had happened to him would have spread through The Cage like wildfire. It was little wonder he put a contract on my head.

  “Tell me, Danny, have you ever been dancing?”

  “No.”

  “I feel like dancing,” I said, and we headed to a nice club in the decent part of town.

  I pulled Danny by his jacket onto the dance floor. He didn’t know what to do and just stood there, watching everyone else bump and grind.

  A slow song was playing. I slipped one leg around Danny’s, bending it slightly and sliding it up and down his calf. I leaned into him, rubbed one hand on his chest and rested the other on his shoulder, all the while grinding my pelvis into his hips.

  “This is dancing?” he whispered, astonished.

  Do angels get embarrassed? I thought idly, and smiled.

  “It vaguely passes for it,” I murmured in his ear. “Remind me to give you a lap dance one day. I’m sure you’d r
eally like that one.”

  “Can’t we do that dance here?” he asked.

  I nibbled his ear, like he’d done to me earlier in the day.

  “It’s not the sort of dance you do in public,” I purred.

  “Oh,” he said, clearing his throat.

  I could feel the heat of his blood. Wow! I thought. I’ve never noticed that before. Must be related to being an awesome superhuman chick — the heightened senses and increased libido.

  The slow song ended and a more upbeat one started. I unhooked my leg and took a step back, dancing like everyone else. Danny picked up this style of dancing easily. His body writhed and twisted along with the rest of us. He looked glad of the change of pace.

  Gradually Danny’s blood cooled down from searing hot to toasty warm. Maybe it was my dance that had made his blood boil. I could seriously have a lot of fun with him if that was the case, and, if I played my cards right, be forgiven every time!

  After an hour or so of dancing I pulled Danny away from the dance floor. We returned to the hotel and slipped between the sheets for some wildly exciting fun — spurred on by the experiences of the night, and one angel’s overactive imagination — before having another more subdued shower later in the morning.

  Danny nuzzled my hair with his nose as he wrapped a towel around me. “You amaze me.”

  I grinned. He was amazed by me a lot lately. “How so?”

  “Not once with all those mortals around did you look even remotely interested in taking one of them down, not even the preacher. Now there’s a man Saint Peter will be happy to turn away from the gates.”

  “Do you mean there really are pearly gates that lead into heaven?” I asked.

  “Not in the physical sense, but Saint Peter is there all the same, letting some in, and turning others away. But getting back to the point, you did well.”

  “Danny, in all honesty they didn’t even register with me for the most part. The only scent in the air that captured my attention was yours.”

  While I dried and dressed Danny ran downstairs to return the access card. When he returned, he picked up my overnight bag and we headed to the elevator.

  “It’s a shame I didn’t get to show you more of the city,” I said. “But I guess you’ve seen it all anyway.”

  “I don’t mind seeing it again with you. Perhaps we can come back another time.”

  “Maybe. I’ll probably want to check on the goings-on at The Cage from time to time.”

  “Shall you take us home or shall I,” Danny asked.

  “I’ll do it. I need the practise.”

  I took Danny’s hand before we reached the elevator, and after a quick glance in either direction, and without any notice, transported us home. Danny was in the process of pressing a non-existent button before he realised we were home.

  He shook his head. “A little warning would be nice, Helena. I’m not used to travelling your way.”

  I kissed him on the cheek, bent over at the waist, and with hands on my thighs wiggled my butt in the air.

  I peeked over my shoulder playfully. “Sorry. You can give me a spanking if you like. Maybe I need a lesson in manners.”

  He gave my arse a playful whack before dropping my bag to the floor.

  17. Lightning Strike

  “I’m beat,” I said. “I really need to get some sleep. Will you come and stay with me? I think a few hours should be enough.”

  “I’m sorry, Helena. I need to run a quick patrol. I’ll be back before you wake.” He kissed my forehead and left.

  I headed straight to bed, even though I knew I would find it difficult to sleep. I thought about the things that had happened in the past week — how I’d needed Danny to rescue me from a large group of vampires and put him in danger by being in another angel’s territory. He risked much just by concealing my existence — hiding me from angels and vampires alike. Then there was the werewolf attack. I’d slowed him down and he had had to bleed, and bleed badly, to heal me. And what about the elevator incident? Let’s face it, I seemed to need him more than he needed me. I was a liability.

  I drifted into a troubled sleep, seeing Danny sacrificing himself to the vampires in my stead — in order to save me. I saw Danny being killed by angel fire, or turned into a wolf.

  When I woke for the third time, I couldn’t bear going back to sleep, to see Danny die or be changed again. He was not back yet. He’d probably expected that I would sleep a bit longer than I had.

  I decided a bath would make me feel better, and was almost surprised it wasn’t already filled with steaming hot water. Of course if Danny did expect me to sleep longer, it would make sense that the bath wasn’t full. I turned on the taps and filled the bath the old fashioned way.

  Where was the hot water coming from?

  I bathed and dressed, and, that done, lounged in an armchair, thinking more on the strange turn my life had taken. It was time to stop being selfish and to think about Danny, and whether or not I really was a liability to him, a burden. My heart sank as I weighed up the options — to stay with him and distract him from what he’s meant to be doing, or to leave and try and carve out a new life for myself as a lone hunter. To accept what he was offering or to turn my back on it. The ache in my heart was more excruciating than any bite. It was a decision I couldn’t make on my own. Danny had been honest and upfront with me about everything so far. I would leave the decision to him. After all, what was one more burden in the scope of things?

  When Danny returned I was consumed with anxiety. He knew something was wrong as soon as he sat down and looked at me. He held out his arms and encouraged me to come to him.

  This is it, I thought, the moment of truth.

  Instead of climbing into his lap as I wished to do, I knelt at the foot of the chair and rested my head on his knees. He stroked my hair soothingly. I knew what I had to do. I lifted my head from his knees and took his hands in mine. I kissed each palm in turn. Before he could realise what I was doing, I placed one of his hands on my heart and one on my forehead.

  He gasped — the norm for this experience, it seemed — and his body convulsed as my memories and thoughts, hopes and fears, flooded into him like a tidal wave. In less than a heartbeat it was over. How little time it took to pass on everything I had trouble saying.

  I sat back on my knees, waiting for him to raise his head and say something, anything. My heart was fluttering wildly and I couldn’t slow it down. I was afraid of what his answer would be, yet I needed to hear it.

  He sighed and looked at me, his eyes a maelstrom of emotion. I was unsure of what he was going to say.

  “No,” he said. “I cannot decide for you.”

  My shoulders slumped forward and my heart sank even further into the pit of my stomach. Danny reached forward and placed his hand under my chin, lifting my face so he could look at me.

  “I know your feelings for me and I feel your pain, your confusion, your fear. Now I need you to know of my feelings. I know words won’t convince you. You’ve been let down too often in the past to truly believe — in your heart — my words. One day, perhaps, that will change.”

  He gently moved me to the side so he could kneel on the floor as well, right in front of me, our knees touching. He took my hands in his and kissed my palms, as I had done to his, then placed them on his knees.

  “Don’t be frightened by what I do. It will not hurt me, but it’s the only way for me to show you — someone who is not an angel — what is in my heart.”

  He slowly unbuttoned, then removed, his shirt. With one finger he drew an invisible vertical line along his breastbone, over his heart. An incision appeared along the line, and blood flowed in rivulets down his chest.

  I stared in horror at what he was doing — mutilating himself to prove something to me. I looked at his face, not wanting to watch the blood that smelled so sweet, running down the gash he had made. He professed no pain, yet his eyes told a different story. I turned to look anywhere but at Danny.

 
“Watch, please,” he said calmly, his eyes closed now. “It’s important to me for you to know what I do.”

  I followed his hands now. They moved to his chest and peeled aside the flesh around the incision, to reveal the bones beneath. He whispered a word I didn’t understand. The ribs on the left of his breastbone detached and retracted to the side. His still beating heart — pulsing with life — was unveiled to me. I had never seen a beating heart before. I could see the blood being pumped through it and heard the rhythm of its beat.

  Danny took one of my hands in his and carefully folded it around his heart. His hand remained over mine, to keep it there. I felt the steady beating of his heart — the warmth of it — and the sweet scent of his blood was almost overpowering.

  He leaned forward and kissed me. The circuit he needed to accomplish what it was he wanted to do was now complete. I found myself in the part of his mind he’d reserved for me, and me alone. I saw the emotions, new and raw, that scared him, yet excited him at the same time. It was similar to what I’d shown him — almost everything was mirrored — except he didn’t think of me as a burden or liability. He thought of me as an angel sent to help him find his way. He had thought he was on the edge of being lost, and I revitalised him — gave him hope and made him content. I felt love radiate out through every pore of his body. I felt him feel that his heart would surely burst.

  He unfurled my hand and pulled it free of his chest. I watched as his ribs reconnected with the breastbone, covering his heart. The flesh of his chest joined together, the incision sealing neatly with no telltale scar. When I looked into Danny’s eyes the pain I had seen there was gone.

  The heady smell of his blood on my hand made me giddy. I rushed to the bathroom to clean it off. Danny followed me, thinking I was running from him — from what he had shown me. I turned to him as I dried my hands.

  “I’m sorry,” I said apologetically, “the smell of your blood is too much for me. It’s a good thing you don’t taste as good as you smell.”

  “Do you understand now?” he asked in a whisper.

  I slid my arms around his waist and rested my head on his chest.

  “I do understand, although I have difficulty coming to terms with it. You see, I’ve never known anything like this. All my life people have taken from me until I had no more to give. This will take some getting used to.”