by Heather Long
Kill me if the shoes were going to be gray and drab, too.
Catching the hem of the shift, I dragged it up and off. Then paused.
Glancing down at myself, I dropped the shift and then snagged the change of clothes. Ugly. Boring. Did I mention gray clothes? Pivoting on my heel, I met Seth’s impassive gaze. The chill in the air registered against my skin, and heat shot through me.
Yep, I was naked in front of the angel.
Lifting my chin, I didn’t stick my tongue out at him. Not quite. All I said was, “I need a shower and to brush my teeth. Then I will put on these ugly ass clothes, and we can go get what I need. I’m assuming since I’m dead, that means I no longer have any money.”
Unacceptable.
“I hope you have a credit card and a nice limit.”
Too bitchy?
I stalked across the room and into the bathroom. Closing the door behind me, I leaned back against it.
“You have ten minutes,” came Seth’s only reply. “If you aren’t ready then, I will carry you out with or without the ugly ass clothes.”
The corner of my mouth quirked up.
Not too bitchy.
Not by half.
“Bite me,” I muttered as I turned on the shower.
Seth rumbled a response, but I didn’t hear it. Pity.
I bet he said something like, ‘why would I do that?’ or ‘I’m not hungry.’
Laughter bubbled up again.
So did liquid heat. Like I said, I bet Seth would be great in bed, and he was the kind of guy who would definitely use his teeth.
Yum.
Maybe I should make that a cold shower.
Three hours, and one seriously aggravated angel later, I strolled along the sidewalk toward the front door of Sinner’s. I’d walked this same route the night before… Had it been the night before? Maybe? You know what, I don’t care. The last time I came to the hell hole in the middle of hellish August in hellish Texas with my demonspawn of a boyfriend, I walked this same cracked path of broken dreams and bad street maintenance.
Instead of four-inch heels though, I had on a pair of killer boots. It was too damn hot for them, and I didn’t care. They hugged my calves like they’d been molded on and had a pair of decent three-inch heels on them. The laces along the back also gave them a little edge of danger.
Despite Captain Literal’s rather vibrating impatience, I’d taken my time picking out a few outfits. It wasn’t even one o’clock on a weekend, and I was heading into one of the few bars in this town that didn’t have sports on all the time. Still, you wore different things for different times of the day, and since it was the afternoon, I went with jeans and a crop-top that read I’M A VIRGIN (but this is an old shirt).
I didn’t usually go with a bare midriff, but I was feeling bold. Not-dying and agreeing to punish two dudes I didn’t know had that effect on me, I guess. My usual policy of dressing for upward mobility landed at the bottom of a staircase and bled out before Seth burned it along with my shoes.
Seth had given me a decent description of his brothers and said he’d be ‘watching.’ Just show up, he says. They’ll notice you. Be approachable. Let them talk to you.
Right.
Head to the bar where I’d literally had the last drink of my life, a drink I barely got two sips of, and let a pair of dudes who let me leave and die chat me up.
Got it.
No problem.
At least I wouldn't have to worry about people from my past recognizing me. Seth said they’d just look right over me in my in-between death state. And that was just fine by me.
The sticky heat clung to my skin, and a trickle of sweat slid down my spine. I’d left my hair loose, though now I wished I’d put it up in a ponytail at least. I’d also only used the barest of cosmetics, because I didn’t have time to pick out much. One thing Seth did have that made all of this a little easier was a magical black credit card. No name, no numbers, no limit. Accepted everywhere.
It was currently tucked into my back pocket because I also lacked a purse, wallet, or I.D. Oh right, I’m dead.
At Sinner’s front door, I blew out a breath and then tugged it open. The icy wash of air-conditioned cool air rushed out to greet me like a lover’s kiss. My nipples tightened at the chill, but the rest of me leaned into it as I slipped inside. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust from the too sunny brightness to the dimmer interior.
Familiar scents assaulted me. Beer. Peanuts. Wood polish. Table cleaners. It all seemed so…ordinary. I’d changed, but Sinner’s was exactly the same. A few of the tables were occupied, but I didn’t recognize anyone. I lingered in the doorway for a moment. The two guys sitting at the table near the high-top I’d shared with Alex the night before were the two most likely candidates.
Before I studied them though, I finished my sweep and locked gazes with a familiar pair of tawny eyes. The man in question sat at the bar, but he’d turned at my arrival. Surprise flickered across his face, and a smile creased mine.
Seth said I couldn’t see my mom and that I was dead. My life was over. But Bish was right here and… It was good to see a friendly face. Granted, the shocked expression he wore wasn’t flattering. Still, I abandoned my lurking position and strode across the bar like I owned it.
Not like I had anything to lose.
Happily refusing to look a gift horse in the mouth, I’d worry about the validity of the information Seth gave me later. For now, I wouldn’t mind getting a little comfort from the one person I actually wanted to see in Sinner’s.
Two heads swiveled almost in unison at the first thud of my boots on the wooden floor. I made a point of not looking at them as I passed, but the weight of their gazes struck like a tangible force, and only the fact that I kept moving meant I didn’t stumble. Bish slid off his stool at my approach and faced me fully.
An easy smile flirted with the corners of his mouth, but it was the welcome in his eyes that I clung to as much as the familiarity. Granted, we’d only known each other a few months, and we weren’t friends, but we had been friendly.
“Dahlia,” he said in greeting as I reached him. “I’m surprised to see you.”
Probably because it was the middle of the day and we weren’t at a dog park. Or maybe because he’d seen Alex being a douche last night and had looked for a moment like he wanted to interfere. “Aww, I’m just like a bad penny. I always turn up.”
He chuckled and then surprised me when he gave me a hug. “Nothing bad about you. Have a seat… I’ll buy you a drink.” Though he eased back, he kept an arm around me. “Not with the boyfriend today?” The way he said boyfriend clinched it. He definitely hadn’t liked Alex. That was okay. I didn’t like him either. Not anymore.
“No,” I said without even an ounce of sorrow. Self-pity, maybe? Sorrow for not having Alex around? No. “Flying solo.”
With a slow nod, he flicked a glance behind me and then back to me. “Good. That’s…really good. Here, sit. Catch me up on you.”
“Oh, I think that’s way too long and unbelievable a story.” With his hand at the small of my back, I eased onto the stool he pulled out for me. The contact of his hand against my skin soothed some of my nervousness. Movement in the mirror behind the bar showed one of the two brothers had stood and the other one had gripped his arm.
They were definitely staring at me.
Bish didn’t sit so much as settle in and lean against the bar right next to me, crowding close, but it wasn’t unpleasant. “What are you having?” He really did have the most amazing eyes. Tawny gold, warm, and full of promising heat. Damn. Two guys in two days with gorgeous eyes. Okay well, one god of a guy—not an angel—and this…you know, I could make the argument for Bish. He was pretty damn gorgeous. Bish’s reddish-brown skin gleamed in the light of the bar, and his close-cropped dark hair hid nothing of his smooth cheeks or sweet face.
“Something dirty and dangerous.” Inspiration hit. It was the middle of the day, sure. What better time than the present?
Maybe you only lived once, but I actually had an expiration date. “Surprise me?”
He grinned, and his boyish light shined on me. I wanted to bask in the glow of his contagious nature. I was supposed to be staking out the naughty brothers behind me, but I deserved a little fun before I expired, so kill me. Ha!
The bartender conveniently sashayed by us, and Bish rapped his knuckles to get her attention.
Anytime Alex had brought me here, she was always manning the bar and tossing out shots like they were Skittles. I’d never figured out how this place made any money on the busy nights when round after free round were passed out. Maybe the drunken patrons were generous in their blissed out stupor.
“Another one, Bish?” Her dark bronze skin glimmered under the canned lights, her large gold hoop earrings swinging as she shook her head. “You know I love a little excess every now and then, but five drinks is a lot. Shewee.” She cackled and snatched the white dishcloth from her belt to wipe off the clean counter.
“Quetta, it’s not for me. I’d like to order a drink for my lady friend here.” He glanced sidelong at me, the grin he had been sporting morphing into a soft smile.
I coughed, choking on my own spit like an idiot who’d never been called a lady before. I had, damn it. But it was odd coming from this insanely tall, beautiful specimen of a man.
“A lady all right.” She laughed as she leaned against the slick black counter. “What will it be, hun?”
“Something dirty and dangerous,” Bish murmured and winked. I swore, my lady parts got so hot, they were calling for clouds of rain. “How about an Afternoon Delight?”
That did it. I was cheesy grinning. “Sounds good to me.”
“You got it.” Quetta walked off, her hips sashaying to the beat of the music. In the light of day, it seemed they preferred mellow music to the heavy bass at night.
“Now that we have a drink coming your way, tell me, what brings you in so early?” He shifted back around so his side pressed against the bar.
And the warm fuzzy feeling of being in his presence evaporated at the reminder of why I was there. And whose fault it was. Seth said his brothers had some responsibility. Funny, Alex was the asshole that threw me down the stairs.
“Let’s just say I’m no longer attached, and leave it there, deal?” I forced a smile and used my core to twist from side to side. Yes, I had resorted to nervous fidgeting.
His eyes darkened as he studied me, probably dying to call me on my bullshit, but he nodded. “Sure. I’ll just put it out there that I saw you last night, and I didn’t like the way he treated you. If you ever need a friend…” He let that linger in the air as if he wanted to say or more. “I’m that person.”
“Thank you.” I looked away, not happy at all with the turn in conversation. “How’s Gingersnap?”
He perked right up at the name of his adorable little cocker spaniel. Even taller than Seth, he had to have been around six-foot-seven inches, and his cocker spaniel was the size of his foot. It was fucking hilarious to see him play with her at the park, but it also melted my heart.
“Neurotic as always. She always tries to climb in my empty shoe and gets her head stuck. She’s not that little.” He chuckled like a proud papa.
Actually, she was that small, just her head made up at least a third of her weight.
“How’s Ranger?”
Damn it! He was getting really good at killing my good mood.
“He’s Alex’s, so unfortunately, you won’t see me at the dog park anymore.” For more than the obvious reasons.
The assignment popped in my head for the briefest of moments, and I flicked my gaze to the mirror behind the bar.
Fuck! They were gone. I swiveled around on the bar stool just to make sure but, yep, their table was empty. So not only did I get distracted, but now I’d lost my targets.
“What’s wrong?” Bish reached out a hand, barely touching my shoulder, as if he wasn’t sure we had reached that level yet.
“I thought I saw people I knew.” Wait a second. If Bish was a regular here, chances were that he knew my unfortunate targets. “Hey, you didn’t see who was at that table, did you?” I gestured where the naughty boys had sat.
He stiffened, and for a moment, the man wearing an I <3 Cocker Spaniels shirt flickered in and out, like the man I saw was an overlay for someone dark and other. Turning only his head, he glanced at the table, but like I already knew, it was deserted.
His entire frame was carved from stone as he brought his attention back to me, staring into my eyes like he could glean the answers in my soul with just a look. “Dahlia.” His voice deepened to a pitch that sent goosebumps racing along my exposed skin. “What table were your…friends at?”
Bish was the nice guy, the funny dog lover, but right now, I was thinking I shouldn’t answer him.
“Bish!” The bar vibrated as someone fell against the wood behind me. Someone with a voice smooth like whiskey, and just rough enough around the edges to melt the goose bumps right off of my body.
Where Bish incited a friendly sort of playfulness inside me, the newcomer threatened to kill all my brain cells. I knew that, because it was damn hard not to stretch out on the bar and offer myself up for his pleasure. But there was something dark there too, something that said he could make it hurt so good.
All right. I wanted to walk into this bar with a different mindset, live the last month up right. Now I realized I might be out of my depth. Especially because this chick was afraid to turn around.
“Tarus. I’d say it was a pleasure, but…” Bish shrugged, not at all concerned with his rudeness. “Where did your sidekick go?”
“Oh, don’t worry. Zhan is on his way over.”
It was time. I was not going to turn into a chickenshit for my last several weeks on Earth. Using the bar as leverage, I spun around so I could see both Bish, and Tarus at the same time.
For the love of all that was holy.
This had to be one of Seth’s brothers. And I was in trouble.
Tall. What was with these freaking men? Did they take some kind of power juice? In the dim light of the bar, he had dark hair. Luscious, dark hair. The tousled length hid some of his eyes, but not so much I couldn’t see the languid pools of endless dark pleasure. Head tilted, Tarus focused on me. My panties soaked and my nipples were so tight, either the temperature dropped to sub-zero or I’d discovered a new superpower.
A glass slid across the bar, and Quetta chuckled. “I’d say I brought you your Afternoon Delight, sweetheart, but I’m pretty sure it already found you.”
Movement behind me and Tarus flicking his attention back to Bish were all that allowed me to turn again. I closed my hand on the glass and lifted it, but before I could get it to my lips, I had to look.
Yep, I was that girl. You know, the one in the movies who runs up the stairs in the horror films to get away from the slasher.
Wait. Bad analogy.
Fuck the stairs.
Still, I’m that girl who opens the door and looks, even when I know whatever I turn and see is going to shock the hell out of me. Yep.
So I looked.
Standing not even an inch away was naughty boy number two. “Zhan,” I managed in a much slicker voice than I could possibly possess. “I presume?”
Tall. Did I mention tall? Where Tarus had dark hair like dusky shadows, this guy? His hair was almost the color of midnight. I wanted to meet his gaze, but it was his hand that caught me. The hand that was just an inch away from me, as if he’d been reaching out to touch me when I turned.
Everything tingled.
I slammed back my drink, not tasting a drop.
In. So. Much. Trouble.
That was me.
Trouble.
Instead of answering me, Zhan jerked his gaze up as Bish slid an arm over my shoulder. “Sweetheart, why don’t you go get a table and I’ll come join you in a minute. I’d introduce you to this pair of idiots, but they don’t play well with others.”
&
nbsp; I opened my mouth and two things happened.
One, Zhan caught my arm.
Two, Bish was suddenly no longer touching me.
Instead, he was on the other side of the room, slammed against the wall by Tarus.
“Yes,” Zhan said in a low, rumbling voice that teased over every single one of my senses and actually swung me around to face him again. “I’m Zhan.” He paid zero attention to whatever was going down with Tarus and Bish. Like, none. He stared at me, and then he brushed his fingers to my cheek. “And you’re here…”
Well, I got their attention.
Yay?
4
I’ve always wondered if a ‘necessary evil’ was just something you really wanted to do and it was bad. Like, how bad I wanted to do these guys, and that would be bad. So bad. Did that make them necessary evils? Asking for a friend. The friend who is me. - Dahlia
Tarus
Fury whispered through his blood as he flexed his grip on both his temper and Bish. Pinned to the wall, Bish gazed back at him. Was that amusement shimmering in his near golden eyes?
“Temper, temper,” Bish said. Too jaunty. Almost jovial. “You’re going to make me think you want to turn me on.”
Unimpressed and unamused, Tarus studied him. The desire to punish stretched inside of him, a slumbering giant half-snorting and annoyed at having been disturbed. Ignoring the carefree words, he studied the power he’d pinned to the wall. “Why is she still here?”
Eyebrows lifted. “Who would you be referring to? My friend at the bar?”
“You know what I’m referring to.” She died. Her death had been written all over her. The injustice of it. The crime about to befall her. It had practically glittered in the air before draping her like a funeral shroud. Luck had been late. Tarus had seen it. So had Zhan. It shouldn’t have gone down the way it did. Yet…it hadn’t.
Luck had never arrived.
“What did you do?” Tarus wanted to know. Why? He had no fucking clue. For a moment, an incandescent flare had surged through him, then guttered and extinguished. It didn’t matter if Luck was late. Luck’s presence would have only delayed the inevitable.