“Tell me the truth.” He rounded on her, drowning her in his bright gaze. “Why did you sync with me?”
Chapter 2
Bryant vibrated with fury. His anger had begun to grow when she spoke her name, but now that he found himself in the mansion of an upper-crust Numen… He tightened his wings lest he thrust them out in the universal sign that an angel was pissed.
Why would a Montclaire sync with his sorry arse? What could possibly be her motive for not waiting to be awarded with a proper mate, likely a proper upper-level angel? Did her father put her up to it? He refused to be a pawn in that haughty senator’s game again.
Her deep blue-green eyes flared with incertitude at both his demeanor and his abrupt demand that she answer with her reason for syncing with him. Good luck with that, gorgeous. He wasn’t going to be the plaything of a bored socialite looking to get Daddy’s attention.
“What do you mean?”
And she was stalling.
“You know what I mean. Look at me. Look at this.” He gestured around them, indicating the white marble columns and posh tiled floor. A world apart from the stone barracks he still slept in.
Odessa set her shoulders, those pouty lips of hers flattening.
He admired her for that but pressed on. “What would make you sync before your time? You’re all of what, twenty-two?”
Crossing her arms, a movement that pushed her ample cleavage higher, she continued to square off with him. “I’m twenty-five, and my birthday is in two months.”
“I’m ninety-two and was supposed to sync fourteen years ago, but she stopped dead in traffic when she saw my face.” Bryant raised a hand and slapped it with his other hand to demonstrate the moment that continually haunted him. Odessa flinched. “Not even her Numen heritage could save her from that level of trauma. So tell me, why did you throw yourself at me when my first mate dove in front of a bus?”
She was mortified over the description. Her kind was immortal, but if the injury was great enough, they could die. Especially in the human realm and if the female refused to mate. But then Bryant’s last statement sunk in. Her jaw dropped open with indignation. “I did not throw myself at you. I’m not your prior sync mate so don’t hold me accountable for her actions. And it doesn’t sound like she dove, but was too stunned to move.”
The statement caught him off guard. He’d expected her pity, had dreaded it.
She recovered her serenity. “As for my reasons, I have my own, as I’m sure you do.”
“I had one reason. It was either endure that public humiliation or remain off duty until I synced.” You’re getting too impulsive, Bryant. Director Richter’s words spiked his blood pressure. Irresponsible. Find a mate to settle you down. “I live for my work. So here I am, and I have to work bloody early in the morning. Where’s the sofa?”
At this point, Bryant wondered if Odessa could understand him. When he was emotional, his accent became stronger. He snapped off his T’s, rolled his R’s, and his I’s sounded like “oi.” His mother preferred to reside in England as much as possible, and she’d hauled them all out of Numen for months at a time to go do her goodwill projects. Bryant still kept a flat in London for his time off, while his parents, like many other Numen who weren’t assigned specialty positions, carried out relief work all over the world.
Confusion furrowed her brow and the fight in her eyes died. He hated to see it go. She was radiant in her indignation.
“Are you…? Aren’t we going to…?”
He caught the intention of her question. His normally quiet libido roared to life, but he stomped it back down by mentally repeating her father’s name.
Did she know what her father had done to him? Would she care?
“No, Odessa, we aren’t. Not until you tell me why I’m here. Until then, I’m not your toy.”
“Toy?” Her offended tone matched her expression. “I assure you, Bryant Vale, I’m not the type to bring home toys. I desired a strong sync mate.”
His name on her lips excited a part of his anatomy that should best ignore how unearthly gorgeous she was. Instead, he barked out a laugh. “I see. You didn’t have faith your destined mate would have a decent pair of bollocks. No doubt he would’ve been some winged hothead that built his life breaking other’s backs instead of his own.” Like your father.
Odessa peered at him a long moment before she spoke, her brow furrowed like she was working out math in her head. “What do you have against me?”
“That fact that you don’t know just shows how young and naïve you are.” Bryant stalked away to search for the sofa. “I’m going to sleep. Tell your servants to leave me the hell alone.”
“I have no servants.”
The soft words sounded forlorn. Maybe she was still getting settled or something. It didn’t look like anyone lived in this place. Pristine columns rose to connect with an elegant arched ceiling. A curved staircase appeared to be more decoration than useful with its cold and uninviting marble. The whole mansion lacked hominess. It had more of an atmosphere of being suspended in museum-quality preservation.
He discovered a sofa that sported minimal padding. Tucking his wings against his body, he flopped down on it. His dressing gown would keep him warm enough for a few hours of sleep and then he’d be back out in the field.
What an— What did her human friend Harper say?
Asshat.
That’s it. What an asshat!
Odessa granted him leeway after hearing the quick description of his destined sync mate. That would give anyone a hit to their self-worth. Mates were supposed to be their perfect partner, but his hadn’t had a chance to prove it. Run down by a bus. Tragic.
But Odessa couldn’t understand why Bryant hated her because of her rank in Numen society. Yes, her father was a senator and active in the Numen government. So much so, everyone seemed to forget about his wife and daughters, and that was for the best.
Odessa had been concerned her move back to the heart of Numen would reignite gossip. So far it had not, and she planned to stay out of the limelight and at her desk while she worked, aiding in human and Numen protection alike. The demons of Daemon were a constant threat. They infiltrated the human realm like worms and if left unchecked, they could storm the figurative gates of Numen.
With a sigh, Odessa allowed her wings to droop. Bryant had indeed claimed the couch instead of her. She trudged up the curved staircase to her suite. It took up the entire right wing of the second level and after three years back, it was finally starting to feel…not homey. Familiar. Sometimes she remembered the good days, of running through this wing when it was her parents’, before she’d been shipped off to boarding school. Laughter had been constant in those days.
Her eyes filled with tears. Had her family done the right thing? Regardless, her mother was gone, Odessa was estranged from her sister, and she rarely visited her father. She could only preserve the memory of happier times, the ones before that night.
That horrible night was the reason Odessa stayed out of the left wing where she and her sister used to share a room. Most days, she never entered her old room. Part of dealing with her fear was to quit running from it and protect herself from another night like that again. Living somewhere else would be avoidance, though tempting…
Which was where Bryant came in. At least he was under her roof. Maybe that would be enough.
Chapter 3
Sunlight blazed through the crack in the cream-colored drapes in Odessa’s bedroom. She blinked herself awake, allowing her eyes a moment to adjust. For the first time since she’d been back living in the mansion, she felt rested. It’d been a late night, though not for the reason it should have been. Disappointment curled in Odessa’s belly. She had been looking forward to getting to know Bryant. Until he’d announced he wanted nothing to do with her.
But he was hers now. She could eventually break down his barriers and kill his misconceptions. They had eternity together. Too long for resentments and grudges. They came fro
m opposite ends of the realm, something he proved sensitive about, but they didn’t have to live on opposite ends of the mansion.
Odessa stretched and shook out her wings. With her looks, she had never lacked for attention. While she chose boyfriends wisely, she was afraid her immaturity and the trauma she had faced as a kid made her a little, well, clingy.
No need to worry about that any longer. She had a mate. A distinguished warrior that would live under her roof. And with him here, those shadows she swore were stalking her wouldn’t enter.
Odessa rushed to clean up, hoping Bryant would be more amiable over breakfast. She threw on a casual white robe, a toga style that wasn’t as long as her formal robes. With one last peek in the mirror, she straightened her outfit and fluffed her hair. She hopped down the stairs to check on Bryant.
The couch was empty.
“Bryant?” Was he eating already?
Her kitchen was empty.
She drew in a shaky breath. He had to be here.
The bathroom? Nothing.
He was gone.
Odessa chewed her lip, her panic rising. How long had she slept blissfully unaware—and alone?
How could he have left her? She twisted her hands into her robe’s soft material. She refused to be the weak, clingy girl again, but years of fear didn’t vanish overnight.
Maybe he had to go to work early and hadn’t wanted to wake her. He didn’t know she had a deep-seated fear of the dark.
Coaxing her alarm down, she reframed her thoughts—something much easier to do in the light of day. Her Saturday was now free.
She dug her cellphone out of her underwear drawer. No one was allowed in her house, and who knew when Bryant would come into the bedroom, but she preferred the privacy. Phones were one of the human devices Numen had adopted to maintain their connections in the human realm. The phone could be powered by angelic energy and used to converse without changing realms. Pretty darn handy until a human asked what service plan she used.
But she had no good reason to be in another realm. The phone stayed hidden.
Harper answered after the first ring. “’Sup?”
Odessa smiled at her adorably human friend. Working with Harper highlighted how stifling Numen life could be. Humans were so much freer with their words and actions. Maybe it was their shorter life spans—they didn’t take emotions for granted as often as angels.
She had no good reason to be granted ascension abilities—to descend into the human realm and transcend to her own. It was one of the few benefits of being a senator’s child. Senators ruled the realm. They were power and authority, and they often came from wealth and a long line of senators. She could move freely between realms and no one questioned why.
“Do you still need help this weekend? I’m free after all.” Please, please, please. Finding a weekend retail job in the human realm had helped Odessa heal more than anything. Her parents had done nothing but ship her off to boarding school when the night terrors got to be too much. You’ll be around plenty of others, dear. You’ll sleep in dorms and not be alone.
“Whaaaat? I thought you were getting married.”
Rats. Why hadn’t Odessa lied when Harper texted her asking her to pick up a shift at the store?
Because she was an angel and, while not divine, angels were not supposed to lie.
“Well.” Odessa cleared her throat. “You remember I told you it was more of an arranged marriage?”
“Uh-huh.” Harper’s tone implied she wanted all the juicy details.
“He’s a little resistant to the idea. So, yeah, he decided to work this weekend.” Odessa’s cheeks burned at the humiliation of her admission. As far as describing the situation in human terms, that summed it up.
“What an asshat. But, like, you’re actually married?” Her curiosity was obvious.
“Yes. A quick ceremony.”
“Aaaaand?”
“Resistant.”
Harper blew out a breath. “Whoa. I don’t know whether to be happy for you or disappointed. Take care of yourself. We found someone to cover, so don’t worry. Next weekend, remember, we’re going out with our boots on.”
“I’m a maybe, just in case he comes around.”
“Odessa.” Harper’s tone was stern. “You are making plans with friends, and your man can sit at home and wait for you. If he doesn’t like it—tough. If he decides you’re the hottest thing since volcanoes and wants to pleasure you all weekend—tough. He needs to wait. You’re going out.”
Odessa gave in to her grin. During their time together, talk sometimes ended up on men, and Odessa had discussed her failed relationships with her friend. Harper’s goal was to make sure Odessa didn’t resort to the simpering female again.
“Fine. Code Boots On,” Odessa affirmed using the saying her friends used when they wanted to hit the town for dancing.
“Woo-hoo!” Harper triumphed. “So…what’s he like?”
Amber eyes and an accent that made her insides melt came to mind. “Intense,” Odessa sighed. “He’s soooo male.”
“I likey that description. Don’t worry, he’ll come around. If he doesn’t realize how lucky he is to be married to your insanely hot self, then there’s no saving him.”
Friends were awesome. Harper and her coworkers were worth those first few terrifying trips to the human realm to learn their ways. The human connections Odessa had formed made life worth living, not just surviving. When Numen became too stifling, too terrifying, Odessa hung with the humans.
“You’re the best,” Odessa told her.
“I know.”
Chuckling, Odessa ended the call and hid her phone in her underwear drawer. Her smile died with the connection. She was back to being alone.
* * *
Odessa worked around her house, cleaning into late evening. Fresh air from the open windows lightened her spirits. Birds chirped, but unlike the human realm, there were no sounds of traffic. Numen had many of the same materials, built similar structures, and had angels dedicated to handcrafting clothing, but was blissfully quiet when it came to the sound of motors and engines.
Though there were days when she missed the noise that drowned out her insecurities.
When daylight wiped the shadows from every corner, she could almost pretend the place wasn’t holding a part of her hostage. Perhaps her expectations of Bryant’s presence and protection was unfair to him, but it wasn’t like she had her family around to help her.
Odessa couldn’t bring herself to trust servants in and around her living quarters. She lived with no staff at all. Only she was responsible for the upkeep, but that was okay. Busy hands, healthy mind.
Nightfall approached, and Odessa’s anxiety built. Darkness invited flashbacks and nightmares. Odessa endured most nights locked in her room with a carving knife under her pillow. Every sound, every whisper of wind, she’d flinch and fight back tears.
Where was Bryant? Warriors often took night shifts as it was demons’ favorite time to orchestrate chaos in the human realm. All angels who chose specialty work for the realm were free to adapt their schedule.
For her work as an analyst, she was a transcriber of the reports of angelic watchers, those who followed humans and reported on their activity. Half the notes she transcribed were of human nightlife. The other half were from the daytime when her kind discreetly waged battles away from human detection. She could read about the wild side of life and the dangerous parts all from the safety of her office, and all while she worked what humans called “banker’s hours.”
Unlike those angels, whose tasks took them out of the realm at all hours of the day and night, she could be safely tucked away in her mansion when night fell. Demons were weaker and human hosts were stronger during daylight hours. Since Bryant had been gone all day, he had to be coming back soon.
Odessa dusted around her home, flitting through the lower level, her hand trembling as daylight faded. It was always summer in Numen, with weather almost as glorious as Heaven. Sure, i
t rained, sometimes even stormed, but the sun stayed out a good sixteen hours a day. She’d used up fifteen and a half hours on housework.
She’d taken for granted that Bryant would be around when the sun dropped below the horizon. She hadn’t mentally prepped herself for the night to come. Maybe she should call Harper again.
No. She’d already bothered her today.
Shadows grew around the room. Amid her panic, a spark of anger smoldered. Her new mate wasn’t coming home.
Unless…what if he got hurt at work? Bryant would need the aid of her healing power. Angels were only immortal in that they didn’t die from old age and illness. But like his former assigned mate, he could get killed if injuries in the human realm were severe enough. Or—
Her heart seized. What if he was in a fight and got wounded by a weapon crafted in their own realm—or worse the Daemon realm? She shuddered. Daemon steel was cursed with evil that festered, making healing difficult to impossible without a mate’s aid.
But no, if Bryant was too injured to get ahold of her, surely Director Richter would have contacted her.
The anger returned.
She could stay home and wait, or she could utilize the last rays of light to find her wayward mate. The warrior barracks would be her first stop. She stepped out on the dais off the back of her house and took flight. Her wings flared out, catching air to keep her adrift. With the setting sun, a few Numen were floating around in the sky. Many were couples out for the angelic version of a moonlight stroll, flying hand in hand. She shoved back twinges of longing and replaced them with determination.
Angel Fire: Angel Fire, Book 1 Page 2