Beauty Awakened (Angels of the Dark)

by Gena Showalter

  “Jamila,” she called.

  Silence.

  “Sirena?”

  Again silence.

  Sighing, Nicola closed her bag. Between half-hour bathroom breaks and two-hour-long lunch sabbaticals, the girls barely had time to sit at their desks.

  “Your forehead is healing nicely. I’m pleased.”

  Nicola’s head snapped up, her gaze colliding with the golden brown of Koldo’s. Instantly her heart sped into a frenzied beat. “You’re here.”

  Last night she’d lain in that hospital bed thinking about him, wanting so badly to hear his voice, to draw in his scent, to feel his heat, to lean on his intensity. His honesty. His strength.

  Now he was standing just in front of her desk, wearing a black shirt and pants, the dark shade the perfect contrast to the bronze of his skin, making him more beautiful than any model and sexy in a way that should have been illegal. Seriously. Giant warrior man had her drooling. He was total Drogo hot.

  A scar bisected the side of his forehead, adding an air of danger. His lashes were thick and black. His nose was aristocratic, regal, and she’d never been one to think beards were a male must-have, but Koldo changed her mind, the dark shadow accentuating the masculine purity of his jaw.

  His head tilted to the side, his study of her intensifying. “You’re a strange mix of emotion and energy today. Happy yet anxious, enthusiastic yet fatigued.” Expression stern, he added, “You must take better care of yourself, Nicola. That’s an order.”

  She cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. “Yes, well, I’m waiting for you to teach me how. Hint, hint.” That was the safest response.

  He remained stoic as he turned and walked to the far wall, where he traced his finger over the peeling paint.

  Hands trembling, she smoothed the wrinkles from the white cotton button-up she wore. Yes, he’d said he wasn’t interested in her romantically, and that was fine. Really. She hadn’t wanted to pout about it or anything like that—or try and change his mind. Therefore, she wasn’t sure why she’d raced home from the hospital to shower and dress, spending a little extra time on her makeup and hair, just in case he showed up. Really.

  “That’s what I came to discuss with you,” he said. “I hoped to begin your training today, but that’s proven impossible. I have just returned from a mission, and have been unable to prepare.”

  “A mission? Oh. What kind?” she asked, trying for a casual tone.

  He rolled his shoulders, saying, “The kind that involves an army.”

  Fighting some kind of enemy? “Using guns?”

  “No.”

  “Daggers?”

  “Of a sort.” He strode to the only window and checked the lock. “Beginning tomorrow, I’ll require half an hour out of your day, every day. You’ll devote yourself to me, and only to me.”

  Just half an hour? Surely that wasn’t disappointment swimming laps in her veins. “It’s yours. But are you sure that’s enough? I mean, don’t we have a lot of ground to cover?”

  He stiffened, saying, “We do.” He massaged the back of his neck. “I’ll give you forty-five minutes and—” He shook his head, narrowed his eyes. “That’s not enough, either, is it? I’ll give you...an hour.” The last was gritted from him, as if granting her an hour was a hard decision to make.

  Half of her was insulted. The other half of her was too excited to care. “Thank you.”

  “And when we’re apart,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken, “you’ll not worry. You’ll not stress, as you humans say. You’ll do only the things that make you happy.”

  “Great in theory, but how do you suggest I go about that?”

  He faced her, his brow furrowing as he considered her words. “Perhaps you should listen to jokes.”

  A stellar idea from Mr. Serious, she thought drily. “That’s all you’ve got? I thought you had all the answers.”

  “Spend time with your sister. She’s better, I’m guessing.”

  “She is.” Nicola had told her sister about Koldo and his claims, and her sister had laughed, thinking either the drugs or the concussion or both were messing with her mind. Nothing she’d said had been able to convince the girl otherwise. “She might need some convincing to take you seriously, but don’t worry. I’ll convince her.” The alternative was to watch her sister die, and she simply wasn’t going to allow that to happen.

  Koldo closed the distance and flattened his hands on her desk. She had to fist her slacks to stop herself from reaching out and tracing her fingertips along his jaw. Just how would he respond to something like that?

  “You’ll do everything I tell you?” he asked sharply.

  “Everything.” No hesitation. “We’ve gone over this.”

  “Never hurts to double-check.” His gaze dropped to her lips and stayed. “So pink,” he whispered, and frowned. “So pretty.”

  Her palms began to sweat. He was peering at her as if she were splayed on a buffet table, a sign that read All You Can Eat for Free flashing overhead. As if he were starving.

  Had he changed his mind about wanting her in “that” way?

  He inhaled deeply, and blinked. His nose wrinkled as if he’d just encountered something unpleasant. “Why do you smell like that?” His tone was cutting.

  “Like what?” Toxic waste?

  “Jasmine and honeysuckle.”

  “Uh, it’s from a new soap and lotion.” The one Sirena had given her.

  “Never use them again. That is your first order. In fact, throw them out.”

  No, he hadn’t changed his mind.

  A knock echoed through the room, and Nicola somehow managed to tug herself from the beastly magnetism of his face to glance toward the left.

  The door was open, allowing Sirena to peek inside without any prompting from her. “Hey, Nicola,” she said with a wide, toothy grin—a grin that slowly faded as her gaze swept through the office. “I thought I heard you talking to someone, but never saw anyone come in.”

  Nicola’s attention darted to Koldo. Or rather, to where Koldo had been standing. He was gone, leaving only a waft of his sunshine scent in the air. He’d taken his heat with him, and Nicola shivered, suddenly cold and, well, somewhat bereft.

  “I thought you were on a break,” she said.

  “I was, until I realized you’d be lost without me.” Admitted unabashedly and with total conviction. “Of course, I hurried to return.”

  Lost? Seriously? That’s what the girl believed? Three times this morning Nicola had heard Sirena misdirect a caller. The other four times the phone had rung, the girl had let it roll to voice mail. “What can I do for you, Sirena?”

  “Just wanted you to know Mr. Turner is here to see you.” She cupped her hand around her mouth and whispered, “And he’s looking mighty fine. You should totally tap that.”

  Dex was here? Why? “Thanks for letting me know. Please send him in.”

  Sirena winked, and turned with an exaggerated sway of her hips. “You can go in now, Mr. Hot Stuff.”

  Annnd Nicola jotted down “Chat with Sirena about sexual harassment” on her to-do list. She underlined, circled and starred.

  A few seconds later, Dex soared inside. His dark hair was combed, not a strand out of place. His eyes were bright, despite their dark color. He wore a gray button-up shirt and black slacks. Very businessman. Very attractive. But had he been standing next to Koldo, he would have paled in comparison.

  He would have also probably peed his pants in fear.

  Stop that. “Hey, Dex,” Nicola said. Now that Koldo was gone, her earlier rush to leave resurfaced. Her attention returned to her bag. Files were sticking out the top. “What can I do for you?”

  “I hear your sister is all better.”

  “Not all, not quite yet, but she’s on the mend.”

  He sat down, leaned back and relaxed, fitting his hands over his middle. “That’s good, right? You’ll have more free time now.”

  “Actually, I’ll have less.” She would be sp
ending every spare second with Laila—and an hour a day with Koldo.

  What the heck was he?

  She needed a sensitive spirit to discover the answer, he’d said. Well, that seemed way complicated—so she’d given in and tried the internet. But a search for an invisible warrior who could heal with happiness had mostly yielded articles about soldiers suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.

  “—this weekend?”

  Dex’s voice pulled her out of her head. “I’m sorry, what?”

  His cheeks reddened in the slightest degree. “I was wondering if you had any plans this weekend?”

  “Oh. Yes. I have paperwork,” she said. Plus, there was her second job at the grocery store.

  “Yeah, but you also have to eat.”

  Actually, food was optional. “I’ve got Laila, and that means—”

  “She’ll need a date, too. Good news is, I have a friend,” he interjected. “I’m sure you heard that Blaine and his girlfriend broke up a few months ago, and even though he forced me to eat that crap in the fridge after our race, I still like him.”

  Blaine. Blaine, who Laila would find too cute to resist.

  Would Laila be strong enough to leave the house, though? And if so, could Nicola actually deny her sister a little fun before she...before she... Anyway. What if that fun led to the necessary happiness?

  Maybe Dex sensed that she verged on capitulation. Boasting a half grin, he leaned forward and wrote something on a piece of paper. “Here’s my number. Call me if you change your mind.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered.

  He stood and strode to the door, only to pause and say, “By the way, you smell really nice.” He kicked back into motion.

  “See you later, handsome,” Sirena said from the reception area.

  “Uh, sure thing,” Dex replied, clearly uneasy.

  So...Koldo thought she smelled terrible, and Dex thought she smelled nice. Who was right?

  Koldo the Honest, no question.

  She sighed. The phone rang as she was gathering the rest of her things.

  The phone was still ringing when she stepped out of the office. Sirena and Jamila were standing in the gap between their desks, their noses touching as they glared and huffed and puffed at each other. Hands were fisted; limbs were trembling.

  “I know what you are,” Sirena snapped.

  “I can’t say the same,” Jamila hissed, “but I know you’re bad news.”

  “You want to survive this? You’ll leave and never come back.”

  “This time, I can say the same.”

  The two clearly had history. “Is someone going to get that?” Nicola asked, the weight of the files already causing her to pant.

  The women jumped apart as if she’d prodded them with hot pokers.

  Sirena tossed her a smile, all hint of rage gone. “Sure thing,” she said, strolling to her desk to pick up the phone. “Accounting.” As she eased into her chair, she twirled the cord between her fingers. “Well, don’t you just have the sweetest voice.” A girlish giggle caused Nicola to cringe. “Yeah. I am. Wait. Tell me slower so I can be sure to transcribe every riveting word.”

  Nicola faced Jamila, who was still standing in place, still struggling to control her darker emotions. “I won’t ask what that was about, and I also won’t be back until late tomorrow. All I want is for the two of you to refrain from eating kittens, kicking puppies and boiling rabbits just to strike at each other.”

  “Where are you going?” Jamila demanded, ignoring the insult. “You’re not scheduled to leave for another three hours and eight minutes.”

  How cute. The girl most likely to be voted Useless was questioning her ethics. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m going home. And I’ve already gotten permission, thank you.”

  “Why are you leaving? And why are you taking those files?”

  “Again, it’s none of your business. And because someone has to do them.” Forget her bubbling excitement for her sister’s homecoming. Resentment radiated from her.

  That golden gaze narrowed. “I know how to crunch numbers, and that’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know. Is it? You haven’t so far.”

  Jamila popped her jaw. “Just give them to me.” She grabbed the strap of the bag before Nicola could respond. “I’ll make sure they’re done. Properly,” she spat at Sirena, who was still on the phone, giggling.

  “No, I—” Nicola pressed her lips together. Per Koldo’s orders, she needed less stress in her life. “Fine. Just...please don’t let me down.”

  “I’m not unreliable,” the girl snapped.

  Was she unaware that there were other ways to speak to people?

  “Thank you,” Nicola said, and soared from the office.

  “Wait. Nicola,” Sirena called, stopping her. She slammed the receiver into place.

  Impatient, Nicola backtracked. “Yes?”

  “I’m happy to help Jamila out.” Sirena smiled sweetly at Jamila, who clicked her teeth in anger. “Since you’re the senior member here, I’d like your permission to take half the files.”

  “Sure, that’ll be fine.”

  As Jamila sputtered in outrage, Nicola made her escape.

  The building was set in a circular pattern, with winding hallways, multiple offices and very few exits. The elevators were always crammed, and she hated being squeezed inside like a pickle in a jar, conflicting perfumes battling it out for the title of Most Annoying Scent, but she couldn’t take the stairs. She was twenty floors up and would pass out halfway down.

  When she reached the parking garage, a quick walk took her to her old, beat-up sedan, a car out of place among the newer-model vehicles surrounding it. Bucket, she’d named the rust heap better suited for scrap metal than travel. She started the engine and, after the expected blast of backfire, pressed the gas—only to slam on the brake.

  A monster stood just in front of the hood.

  She yelped, her hand flattening over her thumping heart. He was a study of terrifying ugliness, with the body of a steroid-loving man, and a horn curling from the right side of his head. At one time, he must have had two. There was a stump on the left side. He had fur rather than flesh, and eyes as dark as the worst kind of nightmare.

  His lips pulled back from his teeth in a parody of a smile, revealing long, sharp fangs. “You’re mine, and I always kill what’s mine,” he said—just before vanishing.

  * * *

  KOLDO SHUT HIMSELF in the luxurious bedroom Thane had given him at the Downfall, and sprawled atop the massive velvet-draped bed. Thane, Bjorn and Xerxes were in their suite of rooms with the day’s chosen females, and he knew he wouldn’t see them again until morning.

  That was probably for the best.

  His too-short visit with Nicola had left him raw.

  Her smoke-and-dreams voice still caused every muscle in his body to tense and hum. Once again he’d been able to sense her underlying scent of cinnamon and vanilla, an intoxicating fragrance no longer masked by the taint of the demons. Instead, it had been overlaid by the malodors that reminded him of his mother. Jasmine and honeysuckle. Far worse than sulfur.

  And yet, he’d forgotten that fact when he’d peered at her lips. His own had softened in preparation for...something. A kiss, perhaps. A swift pressing together, or maybe a slow melding.

  And what if he’d given in? He knew nothing about the art of kissing. He could have pressed too firmly, and hurt her. He could have pressed too gently, and left her wanting.

  He would have made a fool of himself.

  She might have laughed. And if she’d laughed...

  Another rejection, he thought, his hands fisting. It would have been one of thousands—and thousands more to come. He was never good enough, and couldn’t ever be. He was never what the people he most wanted to love him needed, and couldn’t ever be.

  He sucked in a breath as a portion of his words registered. I don’t want Nicola to love me. He didn’t need her
love.

  He didn’t need anyone’s love.

  Whatever Nicola made him feel, it had to stop. The heat. The tingling. The craving for the unknown.

  He jolted to a sitting position. He would exercise until he shook too badly to stand. That would stop everything.

  Thane burst through the double doors. The warrior’s hair stuck out in spikes and his skin was scratched and laden with bite marks, but his robe had morphed into battle armor.

  “There’s higher than usual demonic activity at a building in Kansas,” the soldier said, not taking time for preliminaries. “We’re being sent to investigate.”

  “Kansas?” Where Nicola lived. Koldo leaped to his feet, his own robe shrinking, tightening and thickening, becoming a lightweight metal that would shield him from the poisonous claws of his opponents. “We just came from there.” He glanced at the clock. Three hours ago, he realized with a bead of shock. How quickly time had passed. “Where in Kansas?”

  “Downtown Wichita. Estellä Industries.”

  One of Nicola’s employers, housed in the building Koldo had just visited. This couldn’t be a coincidence. Had Lefty and Righty returned with their friends?

  “I’ll fly you,” Thane said, and motioned him over.

  “No. I’ll meet you there.” Koldo flashed. He had a sword of fire palmed and at the ready the moment his feet hit the sidewalk outside, but...

  There was nothing. No evidence of a demon attack.

  Frowning, he stalked around the perimeter. All around him were red buildings, white buildings, tall buildings, short buildings and even a chapel. There were multiple cars on the road, some parked, some meandering. Trees, patches of grass. Birds in the air and on the ground. The singing of insects. But no hissing, cursing, or scraping to signal demonic activity. No caresses of evil.

  He inhaled sharply. No hint of sulfur.

  Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

  He spun, finding Thane, Bjorn and Xerxes had just landed, their wings outstretched, each male alive with anticipation over the coming kills.