by Deryn Pittar
Lewis turned and kicked again, catching his assailant’s knee on the side this time. He heard it crack. The attacker screamed, collapsed and now clutched his leg.
Lewis still had the knife. Just in time he dropped to semi-crouch and faced the next attacker who had stepped around the front of the car. This one had a baseball bat at his side.
“I wouldn’t try and use that unless you want to join your friend.” Lewis kicked the writhing man on the ground, without taking his gaze off the driver.
The driver dropped the bat, then shook his head. “Our mistake. Wrong address.”
A red mist descended, and Lewis stepped around the fallen man and grabbed the driver by his lapels. This was no mistake. They’d tried to take Emma just the way she said they would. He’d make sure they knew she had someone willing to protect her now. He’d send a message to Sebastian. He figured neither of these men was Sebastian, or Emma wouldn’t have gone outside with them.
Pulling the man close he head-butted him. He felt the nose collapse and heard the crunch. “Nobody will get close to Emma while I’m around. Besides the Devil won’t want her anymore, we dealt with that last night. Tell that to Sebastian, from me.” He saw a flicker of recognition at the mention of the warlock.
The man screamed, “Bastard, you’ll pay for this.” He dissolved from Lewis’ grasp. The rage faded and Lewis looked at his empty hands. At his feet only the flattened grass proved someone had been there moments before. Gone. Both of them. Literally in a puff of smoke.
He looked around in case he’d blacked out. “Must have been a mirage or something.” His fist ached from the punch just to prove it had happened and when he wiped his sore forehead a smear of blood stained his hand, and it wasn’t his. At least the car remained as proof of his sanity. Then it disappeared too. Without the puff of smoke.
He staggered up the path, his feet protesting about the shells until he could sit on the porch steps. He dropped his head into his hands. The adrenaline that had energised him had gone. Now he had the shakes.
He caught a whiff of her perfume and heard the rustle of her clothing as she sat beside him.
He lifted his head. “Did you ring the police?”
“No,” she whispered. “We don’t want the police.”
“Do you think the neighbours saw anything?”
“It’s as if something chased them all indoors. No one watched.”
He looked around. The street appeared deserted. Then again, no one wanted to get mixed up with their neighbour’s disputes. “They disappeared, Emma. Just crumbled and vanished in my hands. I had them beaten.”
“I saw. They can do that.” She stroked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thank you for saving me, Lewis. They wanted to come in and talk to me but I wouldn’t let them. That’s when they grabbed me and hurried me down the path.”
Lewis nodded. “They were Sebastian’s men. I saw the flicker when I mentioned his name.”
“The moment they grabbed me I knew.” She began to shake.
Lewis took her hands in his. He wrapped her in his arms and hugged her close. “You’re safe. I’m here.”
“I’ll never be safe. They’ll keep coming after me. You’ve just raised the stakes for Sebastian. He’ll be furious. He’s always thought I was his plaything, to control, and now he knows you’re standing in his way. He’ll have you killed, and I’ll be alone again.”
“Never.” He stroked her hair and brushed away her tears. “Why didn’t your harp know they were dark angels?”
Now Emma shrugged in his arms. “Perhaps it was their dress and arriving as a pair. My harp probably thought they were good people and didn’t mean any harm.”
“Do you have a photo of this brother of yours? I have to see what he looks like so I can recognize him if he comes here, Then I’ll kill him, I swear.”
She sat up a little and looked at him. “You don’t need a picture. You will know him instantly. He’s a mirror image of me, but male.” She stood up and pulled at his hand. “Come inside, I’ll heal your feet. They’re cut and bleeding.”
He stood carefully, hobbled across the porch and into the house then slid down the wall, stretched his legs out and leaned against the wallpaper. Beside him the harp began a low hum and he reached and stroked the soundboard then plucked a string. The harp played two more notes to make a chord and hummed again. Seemed like he’d made a friend.
Chapter 5
LEWIS SAT DROWSILY on the couch. He hadn’t had enough sleep last night and after the fight, the adrenaline had left his body. That always made him want to sleep. He had his arm around Emma, and she curled up into him. She’d washed and bandaged his feet, after putting some sort of ointment on, and they already felt better. Maybe she was an angel with healing powers. He’d fallen asleep almost straight away. From her breathing it felt as though she was asleep too. Guess she had a big night as well. Probably he should move and start getting ready to repel boarders again. She didn’t seem to believe the danger was over.
But it felt good, just sitting there quietly, Emma asleep in his arms.
He relaxed and drifted off again and woke with a start when he heard another bang on the door. Surely Sebastian wouldn’t be back until tonight. From what Emma said he and his cronies would have supernatural powers and more chance of getting past him if they waited until it was dark. Those two men, or fallen angels, or warlocks, or whatever they were should have passed on the message by now. But perhaps Sebastian was the need proof type.
The knock came again. Groaning, he willed whoever it was to go away and leave them alone.
Emma stirred next to him, and, wanting her to sleep a while longer, he carefully moved away from her. Maybe her brother just needed a stronger message. He levered himself off the couch and went into the lounge to get the rifle. The harp wasn’t giving out any warning. It might be a visitor but after this morning he was being careful.
He slid the curtain back and looked out the window. He couldn’t believe what he saw. He propped the rifle against the wall out of sight and opened the door, shocked.
“Mom?” he said. After guarding the house all night and then seeing off Sebastian’s cronies this morning, the last person he expected to see was his mother. She was part of the real world, not this twilight world he and Emma seemed to be inhabiting.
All five foot three inches of his mother rippled with indignation. “Lewis.” As usual she was dressed to the nines, hair set, makeup on, high heels, stockings and her best coat buttoned tidily.
He stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind him. “Mom, what’re you doing here?” He watched her study his sleepy eyes and whisker-roughened jaw.
“I’ve come to fetch you home.”
He ran his hand over his hair, amused. She used to control his every move when he was a kid, but she stopped trying to do it when he was sixteen. One day she stood in front of him to prevent him leaving the house, but he picked her up, put her aside, and walked past her to wherever he’d been headed.
“Fetch me home? What’re you talking about?” He could hear the laughter in his voice. His mother had come to fetch him!
He saw her bristle and draw herself up another inch. “You can’t stay here.” She gestured at the house. “What will people think?”
This time Lewis did laugh. “That I like Emma and she likes me, and we are consenting adults?” He had big plans for tonight too, and Emma didn’t seem to be objecting.
“Exactly,” huffed his mother. “You are home for five minutes and this happens.” She waved at the house again.
“And that is a bad thing because…?”
His mother’s jaw dropped; she was lost for words. It didn’t happen often. One point to him. He glanced across the side lawn to the house he’d grown up in. Pumpkin lanterns were spaced evenly along the railing of the porch, ready for their candles. His father stood on the veranda, watching this confrontation.
“This is ridiculous,” she said after a while. “If you don’t come ho
me now, I’ll …”
Lewis stopped her. “You’ll what?”
His mother paused. Perhaps she’d heard the steel in his voice. She changed tack.
“At least come and have dinner with us tonight. Emma is invited too, if that’s what it takes.”
“A very grudging invitation, Mom.”
His mother shrugged. “I didn’t mean it like that, she’d be very welcome. I’ve become friends with Emma. We are finally on first name terms.” Her voice softened to a whisper. “I wouldn’t want your behaviour to alter that. I have to live here. You’ll just leave as you always do.”
He looked down the street. It was late afternoon already. He and Emma had slept the day away. The streets were filling with kids getting ready to go trick or treating.
“Fine,” he agreed. They had to eat. They could go next door and his mother could feed them. They’d get back to Emma’s house before dark. Then he’ll defend her if necessary, for one more night and have done with this nonsense for good. “We accept your invitation, Mom. We’ll come over in half an hour.”
Lewis stepped inside the house and closed the door. He stood there for a second, planning how he would tell Emma about accepting an invitation from his mother. Even as a kid, he knew his mother didn’t approve of this stunning woman who lived next door. He always thought some of it was jealousy, Emma was beautiful, and his mother had been. She’d never been willing to grow old gracefully.
He went into the lounge and found Emma sitting up with the blanket held tight around her, like a wall between them.
“You handled that well,” she said. “Now she really thinks I’m a complete slut.”
He sat down on the couch and reached for her. She stayed where she was, so he moved closer to her, and put his arm over her shoulders. She still kept the blanket wrapped around her.
“Take no notice of her, that’s just the way she is.”
“If I go to dinner with you, I have to put up with her glaring across the table at me, because I’ve stolen her son.”
“She’ll be fine.”
Emma released a breath. “Really? Did you know she accused me of killing off her roses last summer?”
“Did you put a spell on them?”
This time the release of breath was pure derision. “I’m an angel not a witch.” But Emma un-wrapped the blanket and curled up to him again. Maybe he was forgiven. “No, she thought I’d let spray drift over to her garden. I only spray plant food. I don’t kill anything in the garden. I might growl at the insects and slugs, sometimes shout a bit at them, but I never kill them. She just doesn’t like me.” She flapped the blanket over them both.
“She doesn’t really like anyone.” He kissed her and to his relief felt her relax into it. After a while she pulled away from him.
“So, you like me?” she asked.
“You heard that?”
Emma nodded. He ran his hand up under her top. “I thought I was making that obvious.” He pulled her onto his lap. “I like you a lot,” he whispered, as he kissed her throat. He felt her draw in a breath.
“And we’re consenting adults?” she asked.
“You really weren’t meant to hear that,” he sighed into her collar bone. “But we are and I like the idea.”
“Is that why you’re still here?”
“No, I’m not that crass, I’m here because I like you a lot. Anything more than just your company is a bonus.” He moved back to her mouth, and as he kissed her, he felt her reluctance begin to give way to desire. She wanted him too. That had to be a good thing. “Are you coming to have dinner with me?”
She nodded and then kissed him again.
“Mmmm,” he said, and stroked her hair. “Then we can get back here before dark and defend your honour.” He ran his tongue around the edge of her lips. “Know what that means?”
“What?” She traced the shape of his lips with her finger.
“We’ll be together all night again and I’ll have to make love to you again.”
“I know,” she said, breathless.
Lewis watched Emma across the dining table. That session on the couch had promised everything. But they’d had to stop and get ready. He’d told his mother half an hour and he could hardly blow his mother’s dinner invitation off because he wanted to make love to the neighbour. It wasn’t often you got to fulfil an adolescent fantasy, but barring things like fallen angels and warlocks, he would be doing exactly that again tonight.
She looked up and caught him staring. She smiled, and he thought he recognised the same desire that had to be in his eyes.
Yes, tonight they’d make love properly. Last night had just been a trial run. There were so many things they didn’t do and he was looking forward to everything this time.
“Do you have plans for tomorrow, son?” his father asked. Lewis barely knew his father, he was a man so overshadowed by his wife he didn’t seem to have any personality of his own.
“Not, yet.” So far, the plans hadn’t gone any further than getting through tonight, but he had to say something. “Maybe I’ll take Emma somewhere nice.” Or stay in bed all day. “What’s Old man Cooper up to now? He was out front of his house when I arrived. He waved me over, but I got KO-ed by a car door, so didn’t get to talk to him.”
“Probably wanted to show you his latest acquisition, the man is just a pack rat,” his father said.
That was the pot calling the kettle black.
“So what’s he bought this time?” Lewis cut into the roast beef on his plate.
“An antique fire engine.”
“A model one?”
His father shook his head. “No, the real deal. Some fire department up north needed more room in the fire house, so they sold it. I went with Cooper to pick it up. It’s a beauty.” He looked more animated than Lewis had ever seen him. He didn’t realise his father had interests. Perhaps he should stay here longer tonight than he was going to and talk to him a bit more.
For Emma, the meal hadn’t been the trial she’d imagined. Alice, Lewis’ mother had made polite conversation and hadn’t once mentioned her dead roses. She had gone on and on about her garden but then who could blame her. Mr. Carpenter seemed to be made of plasticine and barely contributed to the conversation. Her garden possibly kept her sane and Emma could empathise with that. Lewis had muttered a few exchanges with his father.
“I’ll help you with the dishes, Alice,” she offered when the meal was over.
“No, no. I’ve nothing else to do. Can’t have my visitors doing housework, can we Cyril?”
Mr. Carpenter nodded and then shook his head. He seemed unsure of the required answer.
“We have to go.” Lewis stood then gestured for her to rise.
Why the hurry? Seems a bit rude. Emma raised her eyebrows in query but stood and pushed her chair under the table.
“What’s the rush?” his mother said.
“We have a busy night ahead. Trick and treating with friends,” he said.
“Aren’t you a bit old for that sort of thing?” Alice pursed her lips. “Didn’t you get enough sweets when you were a child?”
“I did, but it’s one of the things I really missed while I was overseas. A few mates and I thought we’d have a night of it this year, seeing as we’re all home together.”
By now he was walking Emma toward the front door.
“Thank you so much, Alice. Lovely meal,” she said.
“I’d love you to come again soon, Emma,” she heard Alice say as Lewis shut the door behind them.
“I will,” she called out as Lewis led her away down the path, out the front gate, along the kerb and back to her front door.
“That was a bit unseemly, Lewis,” she said. “Honestly, I’d never be that rude to my mother.”
“But your mother isn’t my mother,” he grinned.
Chapter 6
ONCE THEY WERE inside her house, Lewis pulled her towards him, kissed her. A thrill of expectation fizzed. She could feel the tension in his bo
dy, his arms tight around her, a slight tremble in his hands as he cupped her face. His tongue twined with hers. Her spine softened, and the tension of the past day seemed to run out of her fingertips and toes. A sigh of contentment escaped her lips as he pulled away from her a little and lifted his T-shirt over his head.
She knew male angels looked like this, muscles rippling, chest wide perfectly formed, narrowing down to a slender waist. But she didn’t know humans did, except on the covers of romance novels. His bare chest looked like it had been carved from mahogany. She raised her eyes and met his. She saw warmth and longing. She took his hand and led him to her bedroom.
Lewis followed her and as soon as they were through the door, dropped her hand, kissed her shoulder then slid his arms under hers and around her, to cup her breasts. She turned to face him, loving his taut body.
He slowly undressed her. Kissed her lips, then his mouth followed the curve of the feathers until he knelt. His hands cupped her buttocks and his tongue found its way just below the feather line. He dropped soft kisses on each thigh and then stood up.
“Let me show you how much I long for you.” He stripped his trousers and boots off in a flurry of movements and stood naked for her inspection. Her gaze took in his beauty and strength, displayed like a bronzed statue beside her, all strength and grace; a mountain of perfectly formed muscle.
He picked her up and lay her on the bed, lying down beside her, his gaze holding hers, his breath caressing her cheek. She tentatively caressed his chest then ran her hand down over his taut belly until she found his erection, silky skin hot to her palm. It seemed like second nature to love him like this. A mutual thank you for the pleasure he was giving her.
Then with infinite slowness he moved down her stomach, kissing and tasting until he reached where her feathers met.
When she realized what he intended to do, she tensed. “Lewis! please!”
He sat back. “I want to kiss you everywhere.”
“I’m not sure.” Fear of the unknown fluttered her heart yet the longing to become one with him again began to overwhelm her fear.