New York

by Tiffany Aaron

  Just remembering the agony coloring his words brought tears to her eyes. What could have happened to Christian to make him feel like that? She could probably find out if she went online and did a search for him, but for some reason, she didn’t like the idea of prying into his private life.

  Joan chuckled, knowing it didn’t matter whether she did or didn’t. She wasn’t ever going to see Christian again, so why would she waste time she didn’t have in reading gossip about the man?

  The cab driver rolled to a stop at the curb in front of Joan’s apartment building. After paying him, she made her way up to her apartment. She stripped then took a quick shower. She hoped to get enough sleep to be able to function when she got into work later that day.

  As she curled up under the blankets, Joan let her mind drift back to Christian Vosberg, and what she’d felt when she’d encountered him. It was nice to know she could feel those emotions again. After her long journey to getting sober, she hadn’t thought she’d be able to find any man attractive as she straightened her life out. Working a full time job and going back school filled her days so she simply didn’t have the time to flirt or even look for company.

  Christian was handsome and rich. Two things that took him out of Joan’s world and set him in his own, where they wouldn’t meet again. It was a rare confluence of events that had brought them together. Joan appreciated it, but she knew better than to hope it would happen again.

  As she drifted off to sleep, Christian’s image stayed in her mind, and she slept with a smile on her face.

  * * * *

  The bell rang over the door of the diner as someone walked in. Joan looked up from where she stood behind the counter, chatting with one of the late dinner crowd. She smiled as she spotted the familiar blond gentleman making his way to a booth in her section. After grabbing the coffee pot, she walked over to him.

  “I thought I wouldn’t be seeing you any more now that I’ve straightened my life out,” she said while flipping over a mug, then filling it with coffee.

  Lucian chuckled and she was struck by how even that sounded like church bells on a clear day. “I have a vested interest in making sure you stay sober. Besides, I’m not the type of guy who dumps friends when things change.”

  Joan covered Lucian’s hand closest to her. “I really do appreciate everything you did for me while I hit bottom. Not many of my friends stuck around.”

  His black eyes shone with understanding, and Lucian’s smile held a little bit of sadness. “I know what it’s like to lose all your friends, even those you considered family.”

  “You want your usual?” She knew better than to ask him what his comment meant. One thing that Lucian had never done before was explain himself. She didn’t know anything more about his personal life than she had when they’d first met seven years ago.

  He nodded, and she left to place his order. After checking on her other customers, Joan wandered back to where Lucian sat. She studied his face, never lingering on the cross-shaped brand on his left cheek. So many times she’d bit her tongue to stop from asking about it, sure it had something to do with the occasional sadness and weariness she’d seen on his face and heard in his voice.

  Yet there was something about him tonight, and she frowned as she tried to work out what was bothering her.

  “Did you and the group have a good night? Hand out all the condoms and needles you had?” Lucian sipped his coffee and looked at her with a straightforward expression.

  “Yes. Managed to grab some sleep before I came into work. We’ll probably go back out tomorrow night.” She fidgeted as she thought about Christian Vosberg, then it hit her and she gasped.

  “What?” Lucian lowered his pale eyebrows and frowned at her.

  “I met someone tonight who could’ve been your twin,” she informed her friend. “Only he had dark blue eyes, not black. I’ve been meaning to ask you, how in the hell do you have black eyes like that? There’s no pupils or anything. It’s like staring into the endless expanse of space without stars.”

  Lucian dropped his gaze to the cup in his hands, and she wondered if he was going to answer her question. His shoulders lifted then dropped as he took a deep breath before exhaling.

  “It’s a rare medical condition. I see fine, but for some reason there’s no definition to my pupils.” He cleared his throat. “What was this handsome man’s name?”

  “Christian Vosberg. I guess he’s some kind of multi-millionaire or something. I’d never heard of him until last night.” She narrowed her eyes. “How did you know he was handsome?”

  Lucian gestured toward his own face. “You said he looked like me, so of course he has to be good-looking.”

  There was something in his tone that she didn’t believe. Almost as if he was lying about something, yet she couldn’t imagine why. So she let it go because she considered herself lucky that Lucian chose to talk to her at all.

  “So you’ve heard of Christian Vosberg?”

  “Yes, I know Vosberg. We’ve had a few business dealings.” He shrugged. “You can’t do anything in this city without running into him.”

  Joan wondered at the hint of bitterness in her friend’s voice. Maybe Christian had beaten Lucian at some business deal or something.

  “How ever did you run across him? You must admit you don’t really run in the same circles. He’s not the type to go slumming.”

  She glared at him. “Thanks a lot. Are you saying he’s too good for me?”

  “No, honey. I’m simply saying that Christian Vosberg rarely comes out of his ivory tower long enough to mingle with the common folk.”

  Standing, Joan stared at Lucian’s Versace suit. “He’s not the only one who doesn’t lower himself to see how regular people live.”

  She made the rounds of her tables, filling mugs, cashing out bills and delivering food. After making sure everyone else was happy, Joan returned to Lucian’s booth, bringing his meal with her.

  “It’s true that I don’t often find a need to dirty my hands by interacting with people.” There was a slight sneer on his face when he said ‘people’, like he thought it was a disgusting word, or maybe it was the people themselves he didn’t care for.

  Joan had always known Lucian had money, but she’d never asked about how he made it. For the most part, during their friendship, she’d been so caught up in her own situation, she’d never gone out of her way to talk to Lucian about his own life. As arrogant and snobby as he was, Lucian had been there for her while she’d struggled against her addiction. He’d been merciless in denying her that which she wanted so badly.

  “Why did you help me?” She’d asked the same question of him since they’d met.

  He studied his half-empty plate. “You puzzled me, and I wanted to solve you.”

  “Solve me? Like I’m a Rubik’s Cube or something?” She propped her fists on her hips as she asked.

  Squinting at her, he pursed his lips for a second while he seemed to be thinking about something. “What’s a Rubik’s Cube?”

  “Never mind. I guess I shouldn’t get upset at whatever caused you to help me.” She took his money, knowing he gave her enough for the bill and a nice sized tip. Joan moved back as he stood.

  “I was glad to help you, Joan. You’re a good person, and I haven’t run into many of them in my life.” He leaned down, then brushed a kiss over her cheek. “One word of advice though. I’d stay away from Vosberg. He’s not the type of man a woman like you should be involved with.”

  Before she could ask what he meant by that, Lucian was gone, and she was left wondering what kind of bad blood existed between her friend and Christian. Joan took care of Lucian’s plates, then went on to finish the rest of her shift.

  Chapter Three

  Christian settled behind his desk, but didn’t look at the papers in front of him. He stared across his office at the wall while he tried to get Joan out of his mind. It had been three days since he’d met the woman, yet he’d thought about her several times during
the hours he was awake. He shifted in his chair when he remembered several graphic dreams he’d had about Joan as well.

  “I need to stop thinking about her. I’m not ever going to see her again,” he muttered, scrubbing his hands over his face. “It’s not like I don’t have other things to worry about.”

  “Talking to yourself isn’t a good sign.” Mika’il suddenly materialized in the room.

  He did his best not to react to Mika’il appearing out of nowhere. “I was talking to the only person whose opinion I trust.”

  Mika’il chuckled. “Right. You do seem to be distracted, which isn’t usual. I wonder what has you so worked up that you’re talking to yourself?”

  “It’s nothing,” Christian answered, not wanting Mika’il to know about Joan. The archangel would tease him unmercifully if he realized Christian couldn’t seem to forget about Joan.

  “Sure.” Mika’il didn’t sound convinced, but seemed to be willing to let it go. “Did you learn anything about why the unrepentants were gathering at that warehouse?”

  “Not yet. The Enforcer I sent to check it out has disappeared.”

  Mika’il tensed. “Do you think he was killed or could he have run away?”

  “That’s the thing. Phillip wouldn’t have run off. If he wanted to leave, he would’ve said something to me about it. He fears me, and he knows that I wouldn’t be happy if he were to just disappear.” Christian stood then walked over to the window, but he didn’t see the skyline beyond the glass. “Are you telling me you don’t know what happened to him? I thought you could keep track of all of us.”

  The archangel frowned. “It’s not that I’ve lost track of Phillip, but there’s an emptiness in the place where his presence used to be.”

  Christian wasn’t sure what Mika’il meant, but he didn’t want to ask. It had always been enough for him that Mika’il was able to track him wherever he went, like some kind of Heavenly version of GPS. Yet now Mika’il seemed to be saying he could lose track of fallen, and Christian liked that idea even less than Mika’il knowing where he was at every minute of the day.

  “When did you lose him?” Christian asked.

  “A day or two after you left.” Mika’il stuffed his hands in his pockets, wrinkling his suit and broadcasting his worry. “I was too caught up in what was going on in Chicago to focus on his disappearance. I figured I’d look into it after the situation was fixed.”

  Christian nodded. “That’s around the same time that Samantha said she’d lost touch with Phillip as well. I guess I need to find the unrepentants that were using those particular warehouses.”

  He was pretty sure that was what Mika’il had wanted from the beginning, but he’d never spent his life blindly following what the archangel said. So he’d tried to get someone else to do the work for him.

  “Yes, you need to be the one who does it. None of the other Enforcers have the strength to fight off a coordinated attack by several unrepentants.” Mika’il cleared his throat. “I think Lucifer is in town.”

  Christian wasn’t worried about Daystar. “He often comes here. There’s a lot of greed, corruption and violence here. He can absorb a great deal of power from being in New York for an hour.”

  “True. Just be careful. He goes out of his way to search you out and tries to upset you.” Mika’il studied him.

  “Are you surprised by that? He was like that before any of us fell. I think it’s in his nature to annoy and irritate everyone he possibly can.”

  Mika’il’s grunt sounded as if he agreed. “All right. I’ll let you get to work on solving this unrepentant problem. We can’t have them joining forces, Christian. You know how bad that could end up being, for mortals and for us.”

  “Of course I know, Mika’il. Why do you think I’ve been doing this for centuries? Lucifer could do some serious damage if he gets them to combine their powers.” Christian rubbed his neck. “I just don’t know how to keep them from doing this besides draining them of power, and that doesn’t seem very fair.”

  “Fair? These are fallen who have turned away from the Father and the purpose they were created for. They chose this. God didn’t start out banishing them from Heaven. It was their choice to rebel.” Mika’il threw his hands up in the air.

  Christian turned back to face the window as he remembered the rebellion and how shocked he’d been at the number of angels that had followed Lucifer. What had convinced them that Lucifer knew what he was talking about? Why did they believe that rebelling against God was the best way to get him to pay attention to them?

  And how foolish was he to choose to fall to prove how forgiving God was? He should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. He’d never believed angels should be equal to God, or even equal to the mortals God loved. Christian had never cared because he’d been doing what he was created to do—obey God’s commands in all things.

  Yet in a moment of sheer idiocy, he’d decided to prove something by going with his brethren when they were banished from Heaven. Christian had been so certain God wouldn’t turn his back on them. When he asked God to forgive him for leaving, he’d found out God wasn’t inclined to be forgiving, and his heart had broken.

  “Yes, it was their choice to rebel, but to force them to always stay solitary for the rest of their long lives… In a way, I’m not surprised they go insane,” he muttered.

  Mika’il huffed in annoyance, but he didn’t comment on Christian’s statement. “Just do what I tell you, Christian. Find out where and why these unrepentants are gathering. I want to make sure they’re not planning something, so that we can be ready.”

  As much as he wanted to ask if God had said anything about what might be coming, Christian bit his tongue. Mika’il wouldn’t have told him if the archangel truly knew what was going on.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll do that and get back to you. I need to find out what happened to Phillip as well.”

  “Good.” Mika’il slapped him on the shoulder, then disappeared in a soft flash of light.

  Once he was gone, Christian sighed as he walked into his bedroom. It was time to do some work, and while it wasn’t going to be something he enjoyed, he knew he didn’t have a choice. Pulling out a T-shirt and jeans, he made plans to start searching the city for the unrepentants.

  “Samantha, meet me at Washington Square. We need to talk.”

  “Yes, sir.” Samantha’s reply was prompt and held a hint of worry.

  “You aren’t in trouble. I need to discuss Phillip and the unrepentants with you.”

  He didn’t have any interest in dealing with her worry about what he was going to do to her. He knew his reputation had become such that no one wanted to deal with him, and for the most part, he was fine with that. Their opinions didn’t matter to him, because he wasn’t looking for friends or relationships.

  “All right. I’ll head there right now.” Samantha sounded only a little reassured.

  “Thank you.”

  Samantha’s surprise at his thanks rolled through him. Christian closed his mind to her, then grinned. It was always nice to do something unexpected, and keep everyone on their toes.

  He finished dressing, and since he didn’t feel like driving through city traffic, he closed his eyes and thought about Washington Square. A surge of power rushed through him as he dissolved from where he stood in his penthouse.

  A wall of noise slammed into him as he materialized on the corner of the square. Christian kept hidden for a moment, wanting to make sure no one was paying attention to him when he appeared. It was best if mortals didn’t notice him popping up out of thin air. Of course, most of them would dismiss it as something that hadn’t happened. It was their mind playing tricks on them.

  “Hello, sir.”

  Turning, he spotted Samantha leaning against a building a few feet away. He nodded at her while gesturing toward a nearby coffee shop.

  “Why don’t we go in and sit? We need to talk about Phillip, and I also need you to do a little bit of investigating for me as well.” />
  “Certainly.” She led the way into the shop then joined the line at the counter.

  They waited until they were seated in the corner. Christian sat with his back to the wall, keeping his eyes on the mortals in the room in front of him. Samantha didn’t say anything, just sipped her coffee while Christian worked out what to say.

  “I’m afraid that Phillip might have been killed by the unrepentants.”

  She inhaled sharply and sadness flashed in her eyes, but she didn’t try to refute him. “I’m not surprised. It’s not like him not to stay in touch, even when he was doing a job for you.”

  Christian nodded. “I know that, which is why I do believe we have a problem. If it was just one unrepentant, Phillip should’ve been able to deal with it without our help. He’s trained and knows how to handle himself.”

  “Which makes you think he was attacked by more than one of them?” Samantha shifted in her chair, seemingly uncomfortable with the idea of unrepentants hanging out together. “But them being together changes the dynamics of things.”

  “Right. What I’d want you to do is try and find out what—if anything—Phillip discovered before he disappeared. See if you can figure out who he talked to and what they had to say.” Christian ran his finger around the edge of his coffee mug. “I’ll see if I can find any warehouses or abandoned buildings where they might be gathering again. This can’t be allowed to happen, and all of us will have to keep a lookout, in case this is a new phenomena.”

  Samantha met his gaze, which wasn’t something that happened very often. “What does the archangel have to say about this?”

  “Just that we need to find out why the unrepentants are hanging around each other. He didn’t say whether he knows what’s happening or not. Mika’il isn’t inclined to share his secrets with us.” Christian shrugged. “He isn’t inclined to share much of anything with us.”

  “Why would he? If we aren’t worthy enough to be allowed back into Heaven, then we aren’t worthy enough to share in the thoughts of God and his obedient servants.”