Dawn abruptly stopped causing me to bump my head against her back.
“What the hell Dawn?” I complained.
Then I noticed why. Dawn was gawking at the roped-off VIP section of the club. My eyes were like magnets. I found it hard to look away. They were unlike anyone I’d ever seen before. Like the angels on TV, their skin was smooth, luminous and perfectly symmetrical; jaws so defined they made human models look like gremlins. And the rest of us…well the rest of the human race paled in comparison. Their eyes were different colors with a glowing white halo that dazzled around the iris.
There were four of them, in their late teens, early twenties. One was slim but muscular with shoulder-length sandy blonde hair; he had the aura of a seventies rock star complete with a loose navy-blue Hawaiian shirt with images of skulls, roses and the Virgin Mary that was unbuttoned at the top exposing a chest full of hair. The one sitting next to him had a similar build, except his hair was brown and scruffy, his hands were covered with silver rings and Celtic tattoos. He wore a brown leather jacket with different colored pins and patches. The third was just as handsome as the rest, but his skin was light mocha, and his hair was dark, long and lustrous, he looked Native American. He wore a maroon bomber jacket with embroidered gold wings along the sleeves.
But it was fourth who I felt instantly drawn to. He stood out above the rest and was even more attractive than the others. And I had a feeling he knew it too. His striking jet-black hair was tied in a ponytail which exposed his high cheekbones, bronzed skin, and perfectly chiseled face. Even though he was sitting, I could tell he had the build of an Olympic swimmer. He wore a gray V-neck shirt that exposed his toned collarbone, and a black classic double rider leather jacket similar to the one Marlon Brando wore in The Wild One.
I wasn’t surprised they were surrounded by quill lovers—or at least that’s what people called the groupies who were intimately involved with angels. One, in particular, was chewing gum and petting the wing of the Native American, as if he were her lapdog. There were at least two girls for each angel. But from the looks of it, it seemed the angel with the Hawaiian shirt was enjoying the company of the girls more than the others. The other three appeared uninterested and bored.
“Are they...”
“Angels.” Dawn finished the sentence for me.
“Break me off a piece of that,” Julian whispered from behind.
My throat tightened at the sound of the word causing my emotions to conflict inside my brain. It was as if the devil and the angel were on my shoulders pulling me apart. Rooted in my mind, I hated the angels because of my sister, but right now I hated myself even more for finding them attractive. Now I understood why girls were quick to drop their panties.
I was so focused on my inner battle, I didn’t realize he caught me staring. The angel with the black leather jacket. I immediately turned around lifting my arms awkwardly in the air pretending to yawn, I almost hit the girl standing beside me, but she grabbed my arm before I could do any damage.
“I’m sorry,” I said embarrassed. Her hair was vibrant-blue, and her eyes were a startling lilac. She was dressed in steampunk wear; leather pants, leather corset with a shrug that connected at the chest, and a leaf pouch belt—for her cell phone perhaps? She probably got lost on her way to a Goth club. And like the others, she was sharp-jawed and didn’t look a day over twenty. But her wings weren’t exposed, there wasn’t a bright halo in her eyes either. I wondered if she was one of them? Or a poser wearing contacts and a costume?
“Like what you see?” the girl asked with her lip curved upward and motioning with her eyes toward the VIP section.
I took another glimpse at the four angels behind the ropes, but the dark-haired one wasn’t there anymore. Annoyed at my disappointment, I shook my head.
“I do,” Dawn replied swiftly. But the blue-haired girl kept her gaze fixed on me ignoring Dawn.
“I can get you an introduction if you’d like,” she insisted.
“It’s okay.” Who the hell was this girl, anyway? Their pimp?
“I’ll be around if you change your mind,” she said. Then she went into the dance floor and got swallowed by the crowd.
“What is wrong with you?” Dawn asked completely horrified by my decision. “You could’ve taken the invitation and taken me through those pearly ropes!”
“I didn’t come here to get down and dirty with angels.”
“But I did,” Dawn insisted.
“That’s a bad decision waiting to happen.” Julian grabbed our wrists and led us onto the dance floor. “Let’s go sweat out all our pent-up hormones.”
We squeezed through the sweaty bodies toward the middle of the dance floor and let loose without a care in the world. I allowed the music to flow through me, pulling me like a puppet on strings. We jumped. We screamed. We laughed. And watched Dawn shake her ass on a random stranger.
On the balcony above that wrapped around the church, I noticed a handful of angels watching. They looked down at the crowd, like a scientist observing his lab rats. The uniformity in their posture made me uneasy. They bore similar features as the angels from the VIP area. They whispered among each other, giggling as if they were sharing a private joke.
After about an hour of non-stop dancing—and pushing off any guy who tried to slither behind me to shake his junk—I broke away from my friends to grab a drink. A female bartender wearing a black leather corset exposing a cheetah print wonder-bra greeted me.
“What can I get you?”
“I’ll have a Screaming Orgasm,” Dawn said with a mischievous tone slipping next to me.
“Is that an invitation?”
We both snapped our heads around to the sandy blonde from the VIP lounge, who was standing next to Dawn. She took one look at his sapphire blue eyes and was immediately smitten. But there was something about him that was off. Maybe it was his unpredictable wild eyes that made me uncomfortable or the way he tilted his head and eyed Dawn from head-to-toe like a slimeball which grossed me out. Instinct told me this guy was bad news.
“Maybe,” Dawn replied as she flirtatiously flipped her hair back exposing her neck.
“Dylan,” he said into her ear.
“I’m Dawn. Our names have the same first letters, D.D.” She giggled with a spark of obsession in her eyes.
“It must be fate,” Dylan replied.
Rolling my eyes, I turned away from the horrific sight. I could already imagine Dawn scribbling ‘D & D’ inside pink hearts all over her notebook.
“Want to dance?” Dylan asked.
“Sure.” Dawn took Dylan by the hand and walked away abandoning me at the bar. I flicked my eyes away in disapproval. I was on the verge of puking.
Waving one hand at the bartender, I was determined to take a shot of something—anything—to erase the repulsive scene I’d just witnessed, but the logical part of my brain insisted on water. I didn’t want to risk falling flat on my ass when sneaking back into my room.
“Water. What are you a nun?” I heard a husky male voice say.
I blew out an irritated sigh and didn’t bother to turn around. Watching my best friend take off with an angel was enough excitement for one night, I didn’t want to deal with an inebriated asshole. My attention was fixated on the colorful display of liquor bottles behind the bar. And there in the mirror, I caught a glimpse of his reflection. My pulse quickened. My cheeks flushed as his dark eyes focused on mine waiting for a response, but I couldn’t find my voice. What was wrong with me? Get it together Alexis.
But how could I? He was way hotter up-close.
Finally, I glanced over my shoulder offering an awkward smile at the angel with the jet-black hair. The halos around his eyes had an ethereal glow to them that burned unnaturally bright in the darkness, you could hardly see the pupil.
“I’ve never seen you here before,” he finally said.
“It’s—it’s—” I stammered, immediately cursing myself for acting like such an idiot. “My friends dragge
d me out here for a pre-birthday celebration.”
“My name is Milo,” he said with a devilish grin, the kind that could make any girl quiver in her socks. “Milo James.”
I examined Milo’s facial expression a little longer than I expected. He had an annoying sense of confidence that told me he could get any girl he wanted even if he barely tried. And ironically, he had me melting in the cup of his stupidly perfect hand.
“Alexis,” I replied. “Alexis Minerva.”
He motioned for the bartender, who poured a red glow-in-the-dark liquid in a shot glass. Milo pushed the drink toward me. “Happy early birthday, Alexis.”
“What is it?” I asked hesitantly.
“It’s called the Zombie. It’s fruity, you’ll like it.”
I let out a nervous giggle.
“Sounds like something I’ll black out on,” I said pushing the shot back. “I’d like to keep my dignity intact tonight.” I bit my tongue as soon as I said it. My thoughts always had a way of slipping through the cracks of my brain which got me into trouble. To my surprise, Milo didn’t look offended. He was amused.
With one gulp he drank the shot before slamming it on the bar then said, “I like my women aware of the pleasure I’m inflicting.”
He slid out of the bar stool, leaned in closer to me and winked as he gently tapped my chin before leaving. “See you around.”
I sat planted too stunned to move. Who the hell does this guy think he is, Casanova? Cocky S.O.B. And to add more fuel to the fire, he walked into the arms of a gorgeous red-head who greeted him with a kiss that lasted a little longer than I’d cared to watch. My mother had nothing to worry about, I couldn’t attract an angel even if I tried. My charming personality would send them screaming out the door.
Back on the dance floor, I found Julian surrounded by people. He grabbed my hand and twirled me around until I was so dizzy I had to hold on to him to keep my balance. Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw my arch-nemesis Savannah Dixon being led to the second floor of the club by an angel. His brown hair was tied up in a man bun, he wore black slacks and a black dress shirt that was tucked in. He looked older—about thirty—and more refined than the other angels at the club. I watched as they walked through the roped off entrance that was guarded by a bouncer.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” I asked Julian surprised.
“Oh yeah. What the hell is Savannah doing here?”
What was Savannah Dixon, the daughter of the most prominent family of our little town doing inside an angel club? Savannah’s mom was the mayor of Dixon and anti-angel advocate who often demonized the angels during her speeches. So baring witness to her sweet girl mingling with the ‘devil’s spawn’ was kind of a big deal. So I wasn’t about to sit back and watch. I was determined to catch her in the act for leverage. She was the devil dressed in a hot pink miniskirt.
I dragged Julian to the foot of the staircase.
“You’re following her, aren’t you?” Julian said stopping midway. “Oh girl, my gay-senses are tingling, and they’re telling me you’re gonna get us in a boat-load of trouble.”
“Grow some balls, Julian,” I snapped.
“What do you think I am? A Chia Pet?”
“No, I think you’re my super-tough gay friend who wants dirt on Savannah just as much as I do.” I pleaded. “Remember when she called you a Fruity Lucy all through middle school after you came out of the closet?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Payback is a bitch,” I smiled.
He thought about it for a moment. Savannah was a big bully who got away with everything. No one, not even Julian was safe from her insults. Sophomore year Savannah spread a nasty rumor that I gave my now ex-boyfriend, Eddie, an S.T.D., which wasn’t true given the fact I’d never seen a guy naked—ever. Before I knew it, the guys from the football team, along with the cheerleaders, were writing obscene names on my locker and bathroom walls. I used to get phone calls in the middle of the night asking for the ‘red light special.’ When the rumor reached the ears of my mother, she threatened to take me to the doctor to make sure I was still a virgin.
Thankfully, Eddie came to my rescue and shut the rumor mill down, which, didn’t sit too well with Savannah who happened to be Eddie’s crazy ex-girlfriend. My intention was merely to get dirt on Savannah, so she’ll leave me alone at least until graduation.
Julian walked past me and headed up the metal stairs and told the bouncer there was a fight in the bathroom. The bouncer rushed downstairs as Julian ducked under the red rope. I turned over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching, everyone at the club was too drunk to notice us. Once we were in the clear, we rounded the corner toward a small room located at the far end of the church where the door was slightly open.
With my fingers, I motioned for Julian to stay on the lookout. I poked my head inside, Savannah was lounging on a lavish white love seat with a cigar in her mouth. The angel had one arm around her, his face buried in her neck, and the other was heading down her miniskirt. I grimaced right when Savannah locked eyes with mine, her expression shocked. Then the door suddenly closed shut.
“Uh-oh.” I felt Julian tug my shirt. “We gotta go.”
A group of bouncers dashed toward us, we tried to make a run for it but got caught. We were escorted out of the nightclub in true delinquent fashion.
CHAPTER
2
The deep blue sky was fading to a light shade of lilac as dawn slowly broke over the mountains when I got home. I was running out of time. I had to make it back into my bedroom before my mother got home from work and realized I’d snuck out for the night.
I sprinted across my neighbor’s backyard, adrenaline pumping through my veins. In the distance, I heard the neighbor’s annoying dog barking at the sound of leaves crunching underneath my combat boots. But just as I was about to step into the safety of my yard, I heard the thunder-like flapping of wings.
I covered my head with my black hoodie and hid behind a metal shed steadying my breath to keep my heart from jumping out of my chest. As I looked up at the sky, I caught a glimpse of three angels flying west on their way to Atlanta. It was a rare occasion when the angels flew over Dixon. People often hid when they saw them.
I scurried out of the shadows making a dash for my wooden balcony located at the back of our run-down 1900s Victorian house. It was one of those houses people would say had a lot of ‘character,’ meaning it was a piece of crap unless you had money for repairs—money my family didn’t have. Since my mother was the only breadwinner in our home, keeping up with the bills was tough enough. It didn’t help her husband was a deadbeat drunk who slept most of the day.
I came to a sudden stop. Goosebumps rose all over my body causing me to shiver. The type you get when someone is watching you. I glanced around my sleepy neighborhood, all of them unaware of the happenings of the night, but nothing seemed odd. It was quiet. The morning breeze gently swayed the trees in the darkness, but that was the only sound I heard.
Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling someone was out there…watching me.
The lights of my mother’s SUV flashed in the garage.
Ah shit!
I rapidly climbed the balcony trying my best not to fall. If my mother caught me, she’d ground me for life.
I stumbled into my room tossing my shoes aside then jumped into the comfort of my bed. I covered myself with an old worn-out blanket—a gift from my dad before moving to Dixon—and pretended to sleep. Knots formed inside my stomach as footsteps approached. Despite the chilly weather, I was sweating underneath the blanket.
I froze at the creaking sound of the door opening behind me. I’m sure my mother was scanning the room looking for anything unusual: a boy hiding in my closet, or maybe a fake doll under the covers like in the movie Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. She found nothing but borrowed library books scattered on the floor and mismatched weathered furniture in what was once an attic. After a few seconds she left, and I was finally able to breath
e.
This was becoming routine. Every morning when my mother got home from work, she checked my room to make sure I was inside even though I’d never given her a reason, unlike my sister Priscilla.
When Priscilla was sixteen, she got knocked up by an angel. Our house turned into a prison, Rapunzel-style. Priscilla wasn’t allowed to eat, breathe or sleep without permission. My mother tried forcing my sister into getting an abortion, but in the end, she miscarried easing my mother’s worries.
Damn Priscilla. I hated her for ruining my life—but even more—I hated her inability to keep her panties on. If she hadn’t made such a stupid mindless mistake, I’d have more freedom. I was being punished for her actions.
It wasn’t fair.
I sighed profoundly allowing the heaviness of my eyelids to take me under. It wasn’t long before I drifted off to sleep.
A loud pounding on the door woke me from a deep slumber.
“Time to get up Alexis! You’re going to be late for school.” My little brother, Isaac, was on his daily I’m-going-to-annoy-the-living-hell-out-of-my-sister routine.
My eyes weren’t cooperating with me, they somehow seemed to weight ten pounds heavier during the few hours I managed to sleep. I tapped the screen on my cell phone to check the time; it was 7 a.m. I let out an exasperated groan. Why did I let Dawn convince me to go out on a school night? I should’ve stayed home instead of going clubbing.
Milo’s dark, hypnotic eyes flashed through my memories. I couldn’t help but feel a rush of butterflies stir inside my stomach. He was so hot compared to all the boys who went to my school. But he was an angel. Off-limits, and completely forbidden. Besides, I’m sure I’ll never see him again.
Brushing the thought aside, I dragged myself out of bed stumbling over a pile of dirty clothes on the floor. When I opened the door, the sharp, warm scent of fresh coffee filled my nose.
“Happy birthday.” Isaac held up an old beer stein and was grinning from ear-to-ear. Aside from remembering my birthday, something was off about the kind gesture. I took the cup from his hand and ruffled through his curly espresso brown locks.
THE TRAGIC + DIVINE Page 2