by K Kelly
I go back into my closet and grab an old black bag. It’s the size of an A4 sheet of paper with a wrist strap hanging off it. It’s plain and not as nice as my other bag or as big, but it will do.
Wiping off my wallet, I put it into my bag, grab my keys, give Grace a pat, and walk toward the front door. When I open it, there’s a policeman standing on the other side.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Angelica. How are you feeling?”
“I’m sorry, do I know you?”
He feels familiar but also not at the same time. Maybe he has one of those faces where you think you know him, but he only looks similar to someone you know. To clear my mind, I shake my head.
“I’m Officer Tristan Saint. We met last night.”
He smiles at me, and I feel like I know him, but there’s something inside me telling me to be careful.
“We did? Last night is a bit of a blur.”
“I took you to the hospital. You weren’t yourself. Could I come in?”
“I’m about to go out.”
“It won’t take a minute, just need to ask you a couple of questions.”
With a sigh, I stand to one side and gesture for him to come in. Officer Saint grins at me, but he doesn’t come into my home.
“Officer?”
“Oh, so I can come in?”
I nod and make another sweeping gesture with my arm. “The door’s open.”
“Right, so invite me in.”
I frown at him, and Chris’ words come back to me, he needs to be invited in. I cock my head to the side and stare at the officer.
“You can’t, can you?”
“Of course, I can. Just say the words.” Officer Saint nods and grins at me expectantly.
“The door is open.”
“Say the words.”
“Right. That’s how it works for you… you supernaturals. Doesn’t it?”
“Ma’am, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
There’s something in his tone, and I’ve moved further into my apartment, but he’s not making a move to enter.
“So that’s why you’re out there, and I’m in here.”
“Because you haven’t invited me in.” I laugh, and his handsome face scowls at me. “Ask me in.”
“Chris,” I yell.
I see a blur then my friend, Chris, in his elvin form appears behind Officer Saint.
“You called?”
“What is he, Chris?”
Tristan turns to frown at Chris. “Don’t.”
“He’s an angel. An archangel. Very powerful, but not so powerful that he can enter your home without an invitation.”
“You know what she is, don’t you, elf? Do you want her for yourself? Is that it?” sneers Officer Saint.
“Eww! No! I’m her protector and most importantly, her friend.”
“If I come out into the hall, can he hurt me, Chris?”
“No, of course, I won’t,” replies Officer Saint quickly.
“Stay where you are. Tristan here can’t get to you, but if you come out here, he can do as he wishes. Angels are so fickle.”
Tristan frowns and slams his fist into the plaster beside my door. “Let. Me. In,” he roars.
“Chris, please come in,” I say quickly.
I feel wind rush past me, and when I turn around, Chris is sitting on my couch, smiling at me.
“Shut the door and come join me. A coffee would be nice.”
I push the door shut and go into my kitchen, putting on the coffee machine.
“So, he was an actual angel?”
“Yes. Are you okay?”
“I’m glad you told me about inviting them in.”
Chris chuckles and flicks his long dark hair over his shoulder. “You’re mine to protect.” Chris walks toward me, frowning. “Why do you look like you’re about to go out?”
“I’m hungry. I was going to go out for dinner.”
“Oh! Where? I’m starved, too. I’ve been waiting on your call. Why haven’t you returned my texts?”
“Maybe because I’m mad at you, and you’ve lied to me for years,” I reply sarcastically.
“Right, that. You humans are so sensitive.”
“Do you want a coffee or not?”
Chris smiles, and it’s like his whole being lights up.
“Yes, please. I think I want Chinese for dinner. How about you?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
I finish making him and myself a coffee, and I notice Chris hasn’t approached me. He’s keeping some distance between us.
“Are you staying away from me to make me feel safer?”
Chris nods. “You were scared of me before. I didn’t like it.”
I nod. Chris is right, I was scared. I cast a look at my front door. “Do you think he’s still there?”
“Probably. You’re a prize he won’t want to lose.”
“If I touch him, can he pull me out of my home?”
“Yes, he can, but we could make him promise not to. If he wants to claim you as badly as I think he does, he’ll agree. Angels don’t break their promises.”
I puff out my cheeks and let out a sigh. “Okay, you do the promising thing, and I’ll do the touching.”
“Sounds kinky.”
I shake my head at Chris and smile, his return smile making him more handsome.
“Have you always been this attractive?”
Laughter escapes him. “Yes, Ange, but you aren’t my type.”
“Oh, I never thought of you as gay.”
Chris laughs harder. “No! Human! I don’t do humans. I’m promised to an elvin princess.”
“You’re promised?”
“All this for another time.” Chris stalks past me and opens the door. Tristan is standing on the other side, looking angry. “Shall we?”
“Shall we what?” asks Tristan.
“By the grace of your wings, we want you to promise that you will not abduct Angelica from her home when she reaches out to touch you.”
“Why would I promise that?” Tristan’s blond eyebrows knit together in a frown.
“If you want me to trust you and be your friend, you’ll promise,” I interject.
Both men look at me, Chris with a bemused smile and Tristan with a frown.
“Fine,” replies Tristan dejectedly.
“Not so fast… say the words,” says Chris smugly.
“By the grace of my wings, I promise not to abduct you from your home when you, Angelica, reach out to touch me. How was that?”
Chris winks at me and says, “You could have sounded a little bit more sincere, but it will do. Come, Ange, touch the angel!” Chris does jazz hands toward Tristan, and I giggle.
Tentatively, I reach out and touch Tristan on the hand, slowly, he morphs into a glowing angel. He’s breathtaking.
“You’re so, so…”
“What?” asks Tristan.
“Pretty,” I whisper.
Tristan smiles and rubs the back of his head. “Pretty?” He links his fingers with mine.
“No, that’s not right, you are beautiful to look at, but you’re manly like a Greek god.”
“Come with me, Angelica. Let me show you how beautiful this world can be.”
Tristan’s voice is like silk. It washes over you, and when he smiles, he glows brighter. I find myself leaning toward him.
“Okay, that’s enough. Back it up, big guy,” yells Chris.
“Eruaphadion! Let her choose,” exclaims Tristan.
Chris jerks me back, and the spell is broken.
I feel warm, fuzzy, and a little turned on. “How did you do that?” I ask.
“Do what?” asks Tristan with a smirk.
I look at Chris, his eyebrows raise knowingly.
“Did you know he could do that?”
“The angels are a delectable race. They know how to twist all of us to their wishes, but they can also be scary. God’s hitmen, so to speak.”
“God? There’s a god?”
I ask.
Tristan scoffs, and Chris grins.
“A conversation for another time,” replies Chris as he shuts the door.
I walk into my bedroom and notice a red ribbon hanging off my mirror. It’s been there forever, but I undo it and tie it in my hair.
“Are you okay?”
“How did he do that?” I’m staring at myself in the mirror. “If he’d asked me, I think I’d have let him take me anywhere.”
“They are divine creatures. Blessed. They can get good people to do just about anything, and they are horny bastards.”
I burst out laughing and stare at Chris in the mirror.
“Well, that explains that. How do we go out for dinner if he’s waiting at my front door?”
Chris smiles. “More promises.”
Angelica doesn’t realize it, but after Tristan touched her, she gravitated toward the red ribbon. Tying it in her hair is also odd for her. Hell, even putting it up in a ponytail is weird. Ange typically leaves it down and straight. The curls are odd too.
Tristan definitely has a hold on her, but the ribbon, that’s something else. I leave Ange in her bedroom and go back out to Tristan.
“I need you to make a few oaths to protect Angelica and the process.”
“Have you told the troupe yet, Eruaphadion? I don’t see any imperial guards here.”
“I want what’s best for Angelica. The troupe, like you, would want her for her power. Right now, no one knows what that means. If the prophecy is correct, her true power will come into play when she meets her mate.”
“How do you know that isn’t me?”
“She’s only attracted to you when you touch her. Angelica doesn’t feel the pull toward you. When she meets the one, she will. There will be nothing we can do to stop it.”
Tristan nods. “What do you want of me?”
“You’re going to swear to leave her alone.”
Tristan shakes his head. “I will not!”
I raise my hands. “You will for one day. That’s all I’m going to get you to swear to. I need a day to prepare her. Angelica knows nothing of the supernaturals, and she needs to be warned.”
“Warned?”
I nod. Tristan gives me his back and looks up as though he’s praying, then turns around and nods once. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours to the second, and then I’m coming for her, and you had better stay out of my way, elf.”
Tristan spreads out his gorgeous, white wings, blinding me with light, then disappears. Typical angels, all show.
Janardan
The witches kept their word, and as soon as night crept into the sky, I was released. I didn’t see anyone as I made my way out of their stronghold. I’m sure they were watching me, but no one, not even Abigail, wished me goodbye.
When I emerge out onto the street, it’s not the alley but the middle of Central Park. I turn around, but there’s no door, only trees. I chuckle to myself, witches and their spells. I breathe in the night—the air in the park always smells good, a combination of earth and greenery.
I walk a few paces, then a scent hits my nose. I double back and find a place where someone had lain. The smell of mint, honey, and bad milk hit my senses, but underneath it is another scent. Angel? Then underneath that, someone else. Female, delightful, my fangs extend, but I’m not hungry. This is something else. Lust, longing things I haven’t felt in nearly twenty years.
Honing in on that scent, I follow it. It takes me to a building, but I can smell that she left here and ventured away from it. There’s also the scent of elf in the air. He’s either with her or following her. My blood begins to boil, the thought of someone else touching her makes me angry. I stop in my tracks. I do not even know this woman, so why would I care? Shaking my head, I turn and head for my home.
I am too old to be blinded by the crave. I haven’t craved a person since my early days. Why the instinct has kicked in now is anybody’s guess. Perhaps the witches have cast a spell on me? All their talk about me being the chosen one’s mate must be rubbing off on me.
I keep walking, and when I look up, I’ve doubled back and have honed in on her scent again. I growl at myself in frustration. People around me give me a wide berth, no one makes eye contact. I look up at the heavens and see an angel fly by. They told me to look out for signs. Angels are pure, right? So maybe my intentions are pure? With a shake of my head, I continue on. I am old enough to control myself. I only fed a few hours ago, so I should be fine. The scent is so sweet, full of life and mischief.
Soon, I’m standing in front of the same building. I go up in the elevator but have to stop on each floor to find where she got off. When I step out onto the third floor, elf and angel mingle with her scent. Her scent is overpowering around a door—this must be her home. I knock on it, listening for the sounds of life behind it, but I get nothing. Whomever she is, she’s not home.
With a frustrated growl, I turn and go back to the elevator where there are two of them, and her scent is much fresher in this one. I go back down to the ground level and follow the scent. It’s hers and an elf. Lycan washes over me, and I realize I’m not the only one hunting the woman.
I quicken my pace and almost run into the lycan. He’s taller than me and has more bulk. He surrounds me, snarling, his dark features twisting as he bares his teeth.
“Not here, dog. You need to remember where you are.”
“You’re hunting her, too?” he growls.
“Her scent is… compelling.”
The lycan nods and regains some composure.
“Who else do you think is hunting her?”
“Is that what we’re doing?” I ask, frowning.
He points to a woman in the crowd, hair up high in a ponytail, red ribbon blowing in the breeze.
“She wears the color to attract us…” He pauses. “I’ve never felt the urge so great. Not in all my years.”
Most of the lore surrounding the supernatural community has some basis in truth. The little red riding hood story talks about a little girl on her way to grandma’s house wearing a red cloak. It’s the red that attracts the lycans. I’ve seen the pack surround their queens in red, and it sends the males into an erotic frenzy.
“I’m Janardan.” I hold out my hand to him, and he raises his eyebrows in surprise.
“The Janardan?”
I chuckle. “Just Janardan.”
“I’m Hunter, alpha of the pack.”
Now it’s my turn to be surprised. It’s not often the alpha is out on his own. I search the crowd around me and cannot see any of his pack, but I’m not stupid enough to believe he’d be alone.
“Where did you first come across her scent?”
“I was in a restaurant with the pack about a mile back, and it wafted in on the breeze. You?”
“Central Park.”
Hunter grins at me and rocks back on his heels. “Shall we flip a coin?”
My fangs extend, and he growls at me.
“The woman is mine. I scented her first.”
“I saw her first,” counters Hunter.
I take two steps back and size up my opponent. Hunter is formidable, but he’s no match for me. A growl from behind me lets me know that there are more of them. I let my senses wash over the crowd—there are ten lycans advancing on us.
“You can’t defeat all of us. We could overwhelm you. Let this one go.”
I shake my head, let my fingernails extend, and assume a fighting stance. Hunter growls, his upper and lower teeth extend, and his nails, like mine, become long, pointy claws.
I’m about to launch myself at him when a small red bird lands on my shoulder. Hunter flicks his gaze to it. I go to brush it off, and another lands on my other shoulder. They are the size of mice, so tiny and red. They are chirping loudly at Hunter.
“What the fuck?” Hunter growls, his voice no longer sounding human.
“Can you see them, too?” asks a female.
Her scent hits me, and my nostrils flare. It’s her. Hunte
r takes a step toward her, and I snarl.
“Get back, dog!”
Hunter ignores me and takes another step. An elf appears, and he’s mad which, for an elf, is an unusual thing. They normally hold their emotions close to their chests. I’ve only ever seen two elves in my very long life lose their tempers. This one makes three. I breathe deeply and realize he’s the one who’s been with the woman this whole time.
“Is she yours?” I ask him.
He flicks his gaze to me. “Mine to protect.” He scans the crowd and looks at Hunter. “Tell them to get back. I’ll defend her with my life. The pack can’t afford another war with the troupe, your numbers are depleted after the last battle you lost. Think, alpha!”
“What makes you think the troupe would go to war over one measly elf?” sneers Hunter.
“I’m Eruaphadion, son of Aran. Tangle with me at your peril.”
I cock my head and take in this elf. Son of Aran? Aran is the name of the head of the troupe or their king. The leader of the troupe loses his birth name and becomes Aran. All the kings of the elvin have been called this for as long as any can remember. It’s also one of the reasons humans believe that elves are immortal. They aren’t, but they do live for hundreds of years.
Eruaphadion has positioned himself in front of the woman, staff in hand, situated in a fighter’s stance. He’s taller than both of us, long dark hair pulled back off his face, and he’s focused on Hunter.
The woman peers over his shoulder at me and smiles. My fangs and claws instantly retract, and I take in her appearance. She’s curvy, blonde, young, and has these amazing green eyes that feel like they see right into my soul.
I glance at Hunter, and he too has regained his human form. The elf, though, has not relaxed. He moves slightly to the left, so he’s blocking Hunter’s view, but in doing so, I can see her completely.
She’s wearing jeans, boots, and a black shirt. Nothing out of the ordinary, yet I find her to be the most desirable woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“What are you?” I ask her.
“Human.”
I take a step toward her and am hit in the chest once and quickly with the elf’s staff.
“Back up!”
“I give you my word, I’ll not harm her.”
