Tajael (Fallen Angels 1) - Paranormal Romance

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Tajael (Fallen Angels 1) - Paranormal Romance Page 10

by Alisa Woods


  She clawed her way up the car until she was standing on shaky feet. Tears of fear and confusion leaked from the corners of her eyes, but she angrily wiped them away. She couldn’t possibly drive in this state, but she could walk. Maybe.

  She staggered away from the car, toward the main street. When she stepped out onto the sidewalk, there was an insane amount of normalcy on the road. A couple cars ambling past. The lights of the streetlamps shining down. Most of the shops were closed, but a few bars and one coffee shop still blazed their neon lights into the darkness.

  She stumbled toward her apartment—it was only two blocks down. If she could get there… if she could get to her room and curl up on her bed…

  She was still half convinced this was a nightmare.

  The elevator seemed to take forever to arrive, and even longer to trundle up to her floor on the 10th, and when she stepped out, she still had to hold onto the walls because her legs were just shaky as fuck. When she passed Tajael’s apartment door, he almost gave her a heart attack by coming out.

  “Shit!” she couldn’t help saying as the sudden dose of surprise overwhelmed everything. She nearly went down, but he caught her. With those strong arms in a normal plaid shirt over his white t-shirt and jeans. Of course. Because he was a real actual human, and somehow she was back in reality again.

  “Charlotte, what’s wrong?” he asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer. He just helped her to her apartment door—and by helped, she meant practically carried, because her fucking legs weren’t working right. “You look sick. We need to get you inside. Where’s your purse?”

  She had no idea. But when she looked down, it was slung over her shoulder. How could that possibly be? Oh God, she was still losing it. She just handed it over to him. He fished out her Flash keychain and opened the door, all while managing to keep her upright. Then he helped her to the couch, where she gratefully curled up in the corner, knees tucked up tight to her chin, arms locked hard around her legs.

  “I can’t…” She swallowed because her throat was so dry. “I can’t go out for tea tonight.” It sounded stupid. Why was she saying that? She had to be in shock. Could you go into shock from a hallucination? Or did you just go straight to Crazy Town? Or maybe it was because she murdered her driver in an alley.

  Holy fuck, she was messed up.

  Tajael knelt in front of her spot on the couch, his ice-blue eyes burning with concern. “Of course not.” He looked vexed, and he had to wonder why she was such a wreck. But how could she possibly explain?

  His hand covered hers where she gripped hard onto her own arms wrapped around her tucked-up legs. It was warm and soothing and so kind. He was always so kind, waiting patiently for her to explain. She was safe with him. This was the one certainty she had in the world right now, and she held onto it like one of those white and red rings they throw to drowning people. And she totally was. Drowning.

  “I think…” She swallowed. “I think I’m going insane.”

  He scowled. “You are not going insane.”

  “No. Really.” She shook her head, and it became almost a frantic denial, so she stopped. “I really think I am.”

  “You can’t be,” he said gently. “Only sane people think they might be crazy. The truly insane are certain they’re not.”

  She strangled out a laugh, but it was more of a gasp. Or maybe a sob. “God, I think I qualify for all of the above!”

  He eased up on the couch with her. “You are not crazy. You’ve been through some shocks, and it’s rattled you, and that’s all. Can you tell me what happened? What you… remember?”

  Could she tell him? She still wasn’t sure how much of it was real… but his hand was still on hers, and it squeezed gently, and his eyes were filled with such concern.

  She could trust him.

  She pulled in a couple calming breaths. “Something strange happened on the way home from work, and I just… I don’t know if I’m crazy, or what, but I think… I think I might have killed my personal driver.” She gasped, and tears sprung to her eyes. Saying it out loud made it so much more real.

  Tajael expression morphed into some cross between rage and incredulousness. Oh shit. She shouldn’t have told him. Why would she tell him she just killed a man? Holy fuck, what did she really know about this guy? Other than he saved her once. And was sweet. And kind. But oh my god, she was the worst judge of character ever—

  “You did not kill anyone.” He bit his words off one at a time.

  Relief flooded her. He wasn’t mad at her. He wasn’t freaking out… on her. Unlike every other man in her life, all the ones who ever meant something to her—the ones who, no matter what, were always convinced that everything was her fault. And she should pay.

  But she was also afraid—terrified even—that Tajael was wrong.

  That this time… it was her fault.

  “But you didn’t see it…” She pursed her lips. Could she tell him all of it? The part where she hallucinated kissing him? No, just the part that mattered. “My driver… he was someone new. And then, I think… it’s hard to remember all of it… but I think he drove me to a side alley. And then forced me out of the car. And then he…”

  The anguish on Tajael’s face made this even more difficult.

  “I don’t think he actually…” Why couldn’t she say the word? Even now? “I don’t know what happened exactly. He forced me to do something… awful. But then I think I killed him. I mean… I saw his body. But then it was gone. And I just came home. And I… I think I’m losing my mind.”

  “You’re not crazy. And you didn’t kill anyone.” He was resolute about that.

  “What if you’re wrong?” Her voice was a whisper.

  But his voice just became more confident. “I’m not.”

  She wanted him to be right—so badly—but she just had no way to know. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I was there.”

  She blinked. Once. Twice. She had said nothing about him being there. “You were where?” she asked, stupidly. That part couldn’t have been real. Her killing her driver? Him almost raping her? All of that made sense in the sick twisted world that her universe had become ever since Craig messed up her life and her head and her body. But Tajael sprouting wings in the alley? That wasn’t real.

  “I was in the alley. With you. And the man who attacked you.”

  All the air went out of her. She blinked and looked around her apartment. Was she still dreaming? Would she ever wake up from this nightmare?

  “Charlotte.” His voice was gentle.

  She turned back to him, and his eyes were so kind. Why couldn’t she just keep this part of the dream and forget the rest?

  “You know how I said I’m in private security?”

  She nodded, but her mind was going completely blank.

  He took a breath, like this was hard for him to say. Like he wasn’t sure he should say it. Every nerve ending in her tingled.

  “Well, I am. But not the way you think.” He swallowed and studied her hand, the one he was gently stroking. “I’ve been watching over you for a while. 24/7 for a couple weeks. I’m a Guardian, and I’m an… an angeling.”

  Oh, God. She was crazy.

  “I know this is hard for you to believe.” He pulled back his hand and stood. “Do you want me to show you?”

  She shook her head.

  “Are you sure?”

  She shook her head again, more vigorously, then brought a trembling hand to her face. “Oh, God. How am I going to finish my work once everyone knows that I’m… that I’ve gone crazy and…” Goddammit, this was not how her life was supposed to work out.

  Tajael rushed to kneel in front of her again. “I’m screwing this up so badly.”

  What? She laughed, but it was so crazy-hysterical, it just made her hand shake more. “Screwing up my hallucinations? Don’t worry, Pretend Hot Tajael of my Dreams. I’m the only one screwing up here.” Was a humor a sign of madness or sanity? She had no idea.
/>   “I’m supposed to tell you all this in a way that makes you feel better, not worse.”

  “Well, you are screwing up there, I have to say.” Tears were clouding her eyes. What was she going to do? Could she pretend? Just stumble through and make believe that she was still holding it together? There were a lot of days when she was still under Craig’s control that felt that way. She survived that. Pulled herself free. Maybe she could fight her way through this too…

  Tajael came up on the couch again, cuddled near her with concern on his face, but not touching her hand. Or touching her anywhere. He was keeping a distinct separation between them that just felt… sad. Why couldn’t that hot kiss in the alley be her reality? Oh right. Because she was delusional.

  “Okay, let’s try it this way.” The sober tone of his voice riveted her.

  “Which way?”

  “Your way,” he said, emphatically. “You’re the scientist, right?”

  She frowned. She never told him about her work. But then he was her personal delusion so… “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying let’s assume your research is correct.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “My research?”

  “The idea that there’s an extra dimension, one that’s separate from this 3D reality you live in, and that operates in a completely different realm. The one above the ant on the paper.”

  “How do you…” It was spinning her brain in circles that Tajael-her-hot-neighbor/rescuer knew so much about her work. But then… this was how delusions worked, right? He was just a projection of her subconscious, so of course, he would know everything about her.

  “Just listen, okay?” He frowned. “I know you’ve been through a lot, but can you just listen to what I’m saying and assume, just for the moment, that you’re not crazy?”

  “Like a theoretical thought experiment.” This was totally like her brain… trying to use logic to convince her.

  “Right. A thought experiment.” He bit his lip, pensive like was making this up as he went. But damn he was sexy doing it. She wanted to say let’s skip to the part of this fantasy where you take me back to my bedroom, and we have wild angel sex. But apparently, her delusion wanted to do mind-logic stuff first. Foreplay. God, she really was losing her mind. Finally, Tajael continued. “Let’s say this extra dimension exists. It may be new to you, but in reality, it’s always existed. Long before humanity. Long before anything lived on the earth. It is eternal. As much, or more, as anything in the universe that you know of because it’s separate from the universe you know.”

  “Makes sense.” And it did. Her subconscious projection was excellent at this logic thing.

  “Let’s also assume that just because it’s separate from earth, and no one on earth has yet traveled to it, that doesn’t mean that things from this extra dimension haven’t traveled here.”

  She frowned. Because… that wasn’t something that had ever occurred to her. Not in all her research or thought experiments or general musings about the properties of extra-dimensional space. That was something completely new.

  She sat up straighter. Tajael had to lean back to keep from having her knees accidentally bump his chest. “Go on,” she said.

  “So things that exist in this extra-dimensional space. What would they be like?”

  “Well…” She was really thinking hard now, and the edges of reality seemed to come back into focus. Tajael really was sitting on her couch, asking her these questions. “These things could be pretty much anything. We don’t know anything about the properties of extra-dimensional space.”

  “That’s not entirely true.” Tajael smiled gently. “You know that, if it exists, that it’s a physical realm, right? Otherwise, your physics model wouldn’t be correct. The ant can’t fall off the paper into nothingness. It’s falling into somethingness… and that something could be a physical reality just as real as the couch we’re sitting on.”

  She felt her heart quicken, and her mind sharpen. “Yes. That’s right. I’m trying to push the paper crane into another dimension, but I don’t expect it to just obliterate. It’s not being destroyed. It’s just being moved.”

  Tajael nodded, his smile growing. “And if you were planning on moving things into this extra-dimensional space, how do you think the inhabitants of that space might feel about that?”

  She blinked. “Inhabitants?”

  “It’s a physical space. Older than earth. Is there any logical reason why it wouldn’t have inhabitants?”

  “No, I, uh…” Her heart stuttered. “Oh my God.” She’d never seen it before, but of course, beings could exist in this extra dimension. And here she was, blindly stumbling in her explorations, assuming she’d be the first person to set foot in an undiscovered dimension… when there might be natives already there.

  Tajael’s eyes were lighting up. “God actually has a lot to do with it.”

  “What?” Holy crap. She squeezed her eyes shut and scrubbed a hand across her face. This was important. No more delusional crap. She needed to figure this out! She unfolded her legs and leaned forward, grabbing hold of Tajael’s forearm that was resting on the back of the couch. He flinched like he was surprised by her touch, but he didn’t move away. “You need to tell me everything,” she demanded.

  His smile started small and grew. “So you believe me?”

  “I don’t know what I believe.” She pulled back again and rubbed her temples with both hands, squeezing her eyes shut. Think, Char! This idea—this amazing idea that there might be beings in her extra-dimensional space—needed serious thought. She popped open her eyes and dropped her hands. “Okay, I don’t know what I believe. About God or gods or… or… angels or whatever.” She vaguely gestured to him. What was she saying? Did she just admit he might be an angel? If he wasn’t her delusion, how could he possibly know these things? Even if he were her delusion, she’d never had ideas like this before. So Tajael was real. And he knew things. Things she wanted to know. “All I know is that I want to go there. And if it’s possible there are already, I don’t know, people there… well… I need to know a lot more about that.”

  Tajael let out a sigh, and she could see his whole body relax into the couch.

  “What?” she asked. Why wasn’t he telling her more?

  “I didn’t know if I could convince you.” He gave her a small smile.

  “I’m not saying I’m convinced.” Her voice was indignant, but it was a lie… even if she was crazy, she was convinced this was important to her research. Which was all that really mattered.

  “But you’re curious.” His eyes shone, and he leaned forward, his gaze roaming her face. He looked like he wanted to touch her cheek or maybe her lips. Suddenly, it felt like she was impossibly open to him—a book he could read as easily as he scanned her face. “I should have known. Curiosity is the key that unlocks everything for you.”

  A shudder went through her, but it was a delicious kind. The kind that settled between her legs and brought heat with it. “How do you know me so well?” she asked, her voice suddenly dropping. Did she really want him to say it? Did she really want to admit he was something other than her hunky next-door neighbor?

  “I told you.” He was whispering now too, his gaze flicking between her eyes and her lips. “I’m from there. Sent to Guard you. Because there’s so much more at stake than you know.”

  Her heart thudded in her ears, and she couldn’t tell if it was the words he was saying or the way it seemed like he wanted to close the gap between them. “You kissed me in the alley,” she said. “That was real.”

  “Technically, you kissed me.” But he was suddenly shy about it, ducking his head a little. “That shouldn’t have happened. It was a mistake.”

  Her heart squeezed. “A mistake.”

  He looked pained, hesitated, then slowly, slowly, he reached out to gently touch his fingertips to her cheek. He was breathing hard, lips parted. “I wish…” Then his eyes grew a little wild… and he withdrew, moving away from her agai
n. “I can’t.” He seemed so distraught by this, she wanted to reach out and just hug him. But that didn’t seem like the right thing to do. He swallowed. “Charlotte, that kiss in the alley was real… and very dangerous. For me. And right now, you need me. To watch over you. To help you. To make sure your work is a success because there are too many forces at play who want to stop it. So as much as I really, really…” He squeezed his eyes shut, like he was in pain, then opened them again and held her captive with them. “Every part of me wants you like I can’t even express. But it can’t be. Not right now. Probably…” He shook his head and looked away. “Probably not ever.”

  He took her breath away. It was that simple. She might be crazy. Maybe he was crazy, too. But he stole her breath, and he wanted her… even if he couldn’t touch her and was holding back because of some duty she didn’t understand. He wanted to. And somehow that filled everything inside her with light.

  “I think there are a lot of things you need to explain to me,” she said with a smile.

  He looked up, a small bit of hope back on his face.

  She rose up from the couch. “I’ll make some tea.” Her steps to the kitchen were so light, she wasn’t even sure they touched the floor.

  Three days since the attack.

  Three days of agony and bliss.

  Those emotions took turns wracking Tajael’s mind and body and soul, like he was a plaything at their disposal.

  The agony of listening to Charlotte pleasure herself had ceased, now that she knew he was watching. But she still had breathy dreams where she called out his name—he hadn’t told her about those. The real agony came when they discussed physics and magic, everywhere and anywhere, in stolen moments at the office or on her couch or in her bedroom before she retired for the night. The worst was saying goodnight, that awkward parting where they both knew he’d be back as soon as she was asleep. Watching. Never touching.

  Strangely enough, the bliss came at those very same moments.

  She was endlessly curious, and he tried to satisfy all of it—he made love to her mind in a way he couldn’t with her body. Teasing and revealing by turns. Pleasing her with knowledge of the magical realm, even though he suspected she only half believed. The only time he went too far was when he unfurled his wings for her inspection. She ran her fingers along the feathers, marveling along the length of his wingspan, which filled her small bedroom, but he was so breathless—and so embarrassingly erect—that he had to cloak and compose himself again.

 

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