He stood up and gracefully moved to the door, looking back at her. Arlen paused for a moment. “I want you to know you’re safe here. The people who hurt you have been disposed of and they’ll never trouble you again.”
He gave her one last pained glance before striding from the room. The fact that she could brave glancing at him was major progress over the previous week. Had it really been that long already? Why couldn’t she just get over it all? Angie hated that she flinched when anyone came too close or that she was terrified of a man who’d been nothing but kind and caring towards her. She needed to find a way forward from it all. She just didn’t know where to start, especially when the nightmares had begun to bleed into her waking hours.
Chapter 4
Arlen
What the hell had he gotten himself into? He wanted to let her in, though a man in his position couldn’t afford it. Not when there was so much upheaval across the factions. When things went to shit in one of the paranormal sects, it sent ripples through them all. The fucker who kidnapped Angela had made waves. Arlen had heard there was already reports of shifter maulings in the north. There were fewer people on the streets each day. However, despite everything, he couldn’t regret his involvement with the downfall of the dark magic invader, Drake.
Getting involved in the craziness of the voodoo gods hadn’t been something he’d do if it hadn’t been for the respect he had for Rhys Devereaux. They’d worked together more than a few times; it wasn’t uncommon in their line of work. Eventually, you crossed paths with just about everyone in the business.
He peeked at her small frame before stepping out of her room when all he wanted was to reach out and comfort her, but he’d seen her symptoms before. She’d been through something horrific and needed time to heal. He knew how long that could take from personal experience. Who was he kidding? With all of his problems, there would never be an us for him and Angela. No man like him could hope for his own slice of normal.
The door clicked shut quietly at his back and he scanned over the rest of his apartment. Sparse and industrial, much like the building itself. It had been a factory warehouse before being converted into apartments. For the last eight years, it had suited him just fine. Why did it feel so foreign to him now?
Angela.
She was human and fragile. Mortal. He was Fae and would outlive her by hundreds of years… if he didn’t get her killed long before that. Even without his extra baggage, they’d be doomed to failure. If only someone could tell his stupid soul that.
The Fae were different from humans. They lived in another realm much like the one Maya now resided in, however, his lands had been lush and green with thick forests covering it. Rolling plains and swift, clear streams had been his playgrounds as a child. The Fae were blessed with the gift of having a mate. That person would be another soul, perfectly chosen to suit them in every way. Some never found their other half, and Arlen was one of them. At least, he had been. The creator had a sick sense of humor.
He was going to help Angela fight off her demons. His regal matte black Harley Davidson sportster sat next to his building’s front door. God help anyone who was brave enough to try and lift it. He’d quickly become their worst nightmare for messing with his baby.
“Angela? I’m going out for a few minutes. My number is on the counter in the kitchen if you need me, okay?” He listened closely at the door for a response, yet heard only the soft sniffles of her sobs.
His fists tightened at his sides. He’d never had the urge to comfort a woman before, but she made him wish she would let him in. The foreign sensation threw him off kilter. If she were Fae like him, she’d recognize him and accept him as her partner. Shit. There he went again, hoping for more than he should.
He turned away from the woman and marched through the room. He grabbed his worn leather jacket off the back of the chair as he passed. He shrugged into it and dug his keys from the pocket as he slipped out the door.
The air was mild and damp. A sure sign it would rain soon. He could smell the coming storm in the air and he knew he’d make sure he was home before it struck. The thunder could set off Angela’s weakened grip on reality and there was no telling what might happen. He still didn’t know the full extent of what had been done to her beyond the physical. Those were the marks that he could still see.
She needed someone to shoulder the weight of her torment with her. Arlen’s broad shoulders were more than capable, he just needed to show her that she wasn’t alone in it all. His mind was running in circles, trying to figure her out and getting nowhere.
Angrily, he started the bike which roared just as loudly as he wanted to himself and tore off down the street. The entrance ramp was only a couple blocks down and soon he was flying down the highway and relishing the feel of the wind whipping over his skin.
He let the breeze wash away the worries and stresses of the day and inhaled the earthy scent of the muddy Mississippi River as he traversed the bridge above it. Being Fae, he was always more in tune with nature than humans. It was refreshing to him. His people didn’t typically live in large cities like New Orleans because it stifled their senses, which was exactly why he had chosen it. It was the last place they’d come looking for him.
His half brother, Lorik, had been hunting him for damn near a century. He’d walked away from the Fae and never looked back. It was only by sheer luck that he hadn’t been found yet. The two men had a score to settle, which was another reason why he couldn’t become attached to Angela. She was his vulnerability, his weakness, and his strength. If they knew, they’d come for her to get back at him. Now, he had every reason to keep one eye trained over his shoulder.
Chapter 5
Angela
Angela cracked the door open and peered out carefully. She hated everything from the way she feared her rescuer to the way she felt so drawn to him. It was confusing and made ever more complicated by the visions that kept ripping through her brain. They were coming as many as twice a day and she didn’t know what to make of them. It wasn’t like she could ask. Arlen would likely think she was insane and send her on her way. Something about the thought of him kicking her out didn’t sit well with her.
The apartment beyond her door was still and silent.
The coast was clear.
Arlen hadn’t come back yet. She was torn by the notion of being alone. It made her uneasy to have no one to rely on and yet, she was so uneasy while he was around that it was almost a relief. She widened the gap enough to slip out of the bedroom. She hadn’t ventured out since her arrival and figured it was time to woman up. That…and she was starving.
The apartment had an open floor plan and she could see every darkened corner and crevice without any trouble. Arlen had told her that the shadows who’d taken her and her former lover, Brad, were dead and taken care of. The memory of allowing that man to touch her in such an intimate way made her skin crawl with hatred and disgust. He had been one hell of an actor to cover the vile, nasty person underneath the handsome façade.
She remembered the way his eyes had lit up when the blade of his dagger pressed too far and broke skin. He’d watch the trickle of blood as it seeped from the tiny incision. His friends had been just as perverted and twisted. It was exactly those memories which kept her from sleeping for more than a few hours at night.
She shuffled into the kitchen and glanced around for something to make. It had been a while since she’d let her creative side out. She crept to the refrigerator and pulled the double doors open. Her eyes widened as she took in the contents. Fresh fruit and vegetables were plentiful with rows upon rows of bottled water and freshly squeezed juice. As she finally noticed what was missing, her thoughts turned sour. No milk, no eggs, no meat…was Arlen a vegan?
Her longing for something meaty intensified with the knowledge that she couldn’t have it. Being a vegan could prove to be a major deal breaker for Angela as no man would ever convince her to give up tacos and ice cream.
Angela snagged pepp
ers, onions, and a handful of other fresh veggies and scooted to the sink. She washed them and patted them dry. Within minutes everything was chopped and waiting while she raided the cupboards searching for anything she could use. Soy sauce, peppercorns, and cider vinegar prove to be promising and she turned her thoughts to a stir fry of some sort.
After the orange zest, the room was filled with the beautifully complex fragrance of the simmering food. The simple dish was refreshing and tension oozed from her bunched shoulders as she eased into her work. Cooking and baking had always been her release from her problems. The only thing missing was a good bottle of wine and her phone, which she’d have plugged into her speakers for some musical inspiration.
She plated up the dish and settled into the seat at the table. It smelled delicious and she shoved a heaping fork full into her mouth. Her eyes fluttered shut as she savored the succulent flavors and simplicity.
“You look like you’re thoroughly enjoying that.” Arlen chuckled from just inside the doorway.
Angela just about came out of her skin in fright, though she only managed a tiny squeak as opposed to a blood curdling scream. She didn’t move from her seat and refused to tear her gaze from the newcomer.
“Please don’t stop on my account. I was just taking in your complete enjoyment in your food. I’ve never seen anything like it before.” He gave her a small lopsided smile and moved closer. He pulled out the chair adjacent to her and sat down.
Angela had never seen him smile before and she found herself unable to pull her eyes from his vivid purple ones. Instead of having dimples, he had shallow clefts which punctuated his cheeks outside of his lips. Fantasies of tracing over them with her tongue ignited within her, taking her by surprise.
Where had that come from? She hurried to shovel another bite into her mouth. Her cheeks bloomed with heat, giving away her embarrassment.
“That’s a beautiful look on you,” he said.
She coughed, swallowing what remained. “Umm, thank you.” She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Angela found herself surprised that she was beginning to settle in the man’s presence instead of cowering in fear. “D-did you have a n-n-nice outing?” she stammered, trying to make light hearted conversation.
He nodded, putting a damper on her short-lived burst of bravery.
Angela clammed back up and pushed her food around her plate without eating it. She let her hair fall back in front of her eyes. It helped her to feel invisible even as it seemed ridiculous. She wanted to sink right through the floor to escape Arlen’s watchful gaze. Nothing escaped him.
A hefty thud accompanied by the sound of shattering glass rang loudly from the bedroom and drove the pair to their feet. Arlen was moving before Angela had gotten all the way out of her chair. She froze, terrified that it was one of those shadow creatures coming back to finish the job.
“Shit!” Arlen exclaimed from the bedroom.
Angela stepped towards the room then stopped as her better sense kicked in. Arlen was a big boy. He could handle himself, right? With that, she convinced herself to stay put and not venture further, favoring self-preservation over the alternative.
“Are you, umm, alright?” she squeaked, pressing up on to her toes as if it would make her see better.
He silently stepped forth from the room. His eyes were dark and she instantly knew whatever had caused the ruckus hadn’t been good. Arlen’s body was tense and he kept glancing at each of the windows, like he was searching for something, or someone.
“What is it?” she asked again, hugging her arms to herself tightly.
He held up a bone handled dagger. It had a blue crystal adorning its butt and a piece of parchment tied around it. The blade looked sharp enough to slice through a man without any effort. The bottom fell out of her belly and she sat quickly in the nearest chair, feeling the tiny hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. She’d been right. They were coming for her again.
Chapter 6
Arlen
Arlen’s mind raced with the ramifications of his new find. After a little over sixty-nine years, they had found him.
Angela looked every bit like an angel, innocent and untouched by the shit that had made up his life. What was coming would get her killed, he was sure of it. His already possessive nature over the woman who’d claimed his very soul warred with the need to keep her safe even if she had to be sent away. Arlen couldn’t see another way.
“Arlen? What happened?”
“Someone threw it through the window. Don’t worry about it.”
It was the first time she’d actually held a conversation with more than a few syllables and head nods. He wanted to tell her exactly what was going on, but it wasn’t something he could bring himself to face yet.
Her brows bunched together, emphasizing the stubborn set of her jaw. “Do I look like I was born yesterday? Or like I have stupid written across my face?” she asked, crossing her arms in front of her.
He recognized her discomfort and softened some towards her. After all, he admired a woman who could be courageous in the wake of the worst month of her life.
“I’ll tell you about it, but not tonight. There’s no sign of anyone coming into the apartment and I highly doubt they’d come back right away. Let’s just get some sleep and see where we’re at tomorrow, hmm?”
He wasn’t sure he was ready to rip the bandage off the wounds that had been left behind. Not that he cared much about anyone or anything beyond himself.
“Fine, but if you think I’m letting you off the hook then you, my friend, are in for a rude awakening.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I believe Rhys described you as, oh, what was it? A Pitbull? Yes, that was it. You latch onto something and refuse to let go.”
Her scowl at the jibe only spurred his laughter until his belly ached.
Lifting an eyebrow, she said, “Then don’t forget it.”
He wouldn’t. It was that fierceness that made him so proud. Even as she was struggling to hold herself together, he could tell she’d give some poor soul hell if she needed to. She was a fighter. His perfect match.
“Um, I’m going to be on the couch if you need anything, okay?”
She gave him a faint smile and nodded.
Angela had been kept prisoner in an abandoned warehouse down by the water’s edge. He’d watched her as the days went by. Her bruises and cuts would fade and new ones would appear to replace them. She’d been broken down bit by bit, but there was something more to it. Something else had happened to her while she’d been their prisoner. He knew those memories were trapped in there, tearing her apart. She’d have to let it out and he’d help her with that, but it would have to be on her time. Arlen couldn’t force her.
More than anything, he wished he’d known she was his before. He wouldn’t have waited for a signal to take her away. The mate bond was a fickle one. He could feel the pull as he’d gotten closer to her in that cathedral, but it hadn’t been until he’d felt her in his arms that everything had clicked into place. He’d done his job as instructed and hurt the woman who was his other half in the process. Arlen couldn’t forgive himself for that. One day, he’d have to tell her how he’d failed her and he’d see the disappointment and betrayal in her face.
He slipped out of her room and made his way through the apartment. Going from window to window, he checked every lock and bolt, making sure everything was secure. He kept an ear out the entire time in case Angela needed him.
Eventually, he sank into the deep cushions of his sofa. His mind was still racing, and it was times like that that he wished he owned a television. For the most part, he didn’t have the time or need for the thing. But in that moment, he wanted to numb his mind until he could find the peace to sleep.
He didn’t know how long he sat there in the dark room, listening to Angela’s movements while she tossed and turned every few minutes. She calmed eventually. That was progress.
He could make out Angela’s tiny snores and he knew she’d
fallen asleep. How long would she stay peaceful, though? He stood and stretched out his tight muscles, joints cracked and popped with each new pull. Arlen stared at the bedroom door and came to a decision.
He couldn’t keep her. She was light where he was layers of darkness. He would drag her down with him or get her killed. His line of work was dangerous. When someone needed to be found, he found them. When someone wanted someone else dead, he didn’t ask questions. It only meant that he worked for the sketchier people in society. If he pissed off the wrong client, there could be a lot of trouble.
He wanted to just enjoy being near her for the time being. The peace her presence brought him was like a drug and he couldn’t resist. He twisted the doorknob carefully so he wouldn’t make a sound. She was laying on the bed with her hair mussed up around her head in little knots. One leg was flung over the top of the thick bedspread. It seemed that she was a wild sleeper.
He crossed the room and pulled the corner chair to the side of her bed and took a seat. A little crease formed between her eyebrows in a frown. She was dreaming.
Arlen sat there watching each subtle change in her expression. Angela would give tiny moans or something close to humming every so often. He wondered what she was dreaming about. It was the first time he’d seen her sleep without grimacing or screaming.
A light feeling in his chest took hold, a fluttering almost. It grew in intensity until he felt like he’d be sick. He’d never known anything like it before.
“What are you doing to me, you fascinating creature?” he whispered.
Arlen stayed there next to her bed until he could see the first signs of morning creeping into the night sky. He put the chair back and made his way out to the couch.
In no time, he fell right to sleep. It was the first time he’d known the peace Angie brought him since he was a boy.
Broken (The Voodoo Revival Series Book 3) Page 2