Angel Kissed (The Watchtower Sentinels Book 1)

by Jasmine Walt

  “I knew it.” Shaking his hand, the Master stepped back. “I fucking knew it!” In what looked like agitation, he ran his fingers through his hair. He looked down at me, then up at the ceiling, and then back down again. “They tried to take you from me,” he said, his voice low with suppressed rage. “They knew you were the only one who could ever understand me. That as long as we were together, we were unstoppable. So they did what Sentinels always do.” His eyes burned. “They hurt others to get what they want.”

  Slowly, the Master reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a golden chain. My eyes were drawn to the teardrop-shaped blue stone that swung from the end. As I stared, it began to glow. An ache began in my chest, as if there were something missing—a cavity I hadn’t known was there, but that desperately needed to be filled.

  “They won’t win, Arabella,” he said softly, drawing my attention back to him. “Not this time. I still have a part of you, right here.” He tucked the chain back into his inner coat pocket, and I bit back a whimper of longing. I didn’t know why, but that gemstone was precious to me. I craved it with a desperation that didn’t make sense. I wasn’t really into flashy jewelry, and even if I was, I could always buy something just like that necklace from a jeweler. There was no good reason to want it as much as I did.

  “Don’t worry, my love,” he said in a soothing voice. “I know you don’t understand what’s going on, but—”

  “Don’t call me that,” I snapped, finally regaining myself enough to speak. “I’m not your love, and I have no idea what the hell you’ve been going on about. You need to untie me now.” I fought to keep my voice even, to hide the fear vibrating in my chest. God, this guy was a madman. An absolute, raving lunatic. He kept prattling on as if we had a history, some kind of shared past, as if we knew each other—

  “Of course you’re my love,” the man said in a matter-of-fact tone. “We’ve been lovers since our days at the academy, Arabella. But, of course, you wouldn’t remember that now, so I understand your reaction.” He cupped my cheeks with both hands, preventing me from flinching away. “I’m going to fix this. I’m going to fix you, so that you can walk by my side again, as you were always meant to. The Sentinels may have reduced you to a shell, but it’s my fault you ended up this way.” His features settled into an expression of regret, even as his eyes burned with conviction. “My jealousy and anger got us into this mess. You were so strong, and look what you’ve been reduced to now.”

  You’re crazy, I wanted to say to him. But that wouldn’t help anything. Lunatics rarely made sense, and it did no good to point that out to them. Even so, I couldn’t deny the strange feelings brewing in my chest, or the sense of familiarity that clung to me as I looked at him.

  “Look,” I finally said. “I’d like to believe you, but I have no reason to. Your men kidnapped me, and you’ve got me tied up here like a prisoner. There’s no way you and I are going to have a rational conversation like this. You need to untie me, and then let me go. If you do it now, you might get out of this with a slap on the wrist.” A lie, of course, but it wasn’t necessary to be honest with a criminal when one’s life was in danger. That was Cop 101.

  The man let out an incredulous laugh. “Are you talking about the police, Arabella? My God, but they really have done a number on you.” He threw up his hands. “Why do they think they can just play with people’s lives like this? Why do they think they know best?” He shook his head. “But that’s why you were so perfect, because you saw what I saw. You saw what they would never allow themselves to glimpse, for fear of stepping outside that stifling little box they’ve penned themselves into. And this is what happened to you as a result.”

  He turned back to face me, and there was such pain in his eyes that, for a moment, I felt sorry for him. My chest ached as he lowered himself to his knees in front of me, reaching for my restraints. For one breathless second, I actually thought he was going to let me go. But instead, he brushed his hand against my ribs and began muttering under his breath. The words were guttural and utterly alien, and they sent shivers beneath my spine. That same harsh red light began to glow from his palm, and pain suddenly stabbed me in the side. I cried out from the force of it, but it subsided almost as quickly as it had come.

  “There now,” he said, stepping back. There was a look of supreme satisfaction in his eyes as he regarded me. “Don’t you feel a little better now?”

  I blinked, and then tentatively stretched my torso as much as my bound position would allow. My ribs still protested, but the pain was severely lessened, as if they were only bruised instead of broken. “What the hell? How did you do that?”

  Lucas gave me a broad smile. “That was only a taste, Arabella.” He reached out to stroke a thumb across my cheekbone. “I can give you so much more, if only you would allow it. Let me help you,” he murmured, his breath brushing against my earlobe as he leaned in. “Let me bring you back, to show you what we could be like together.”

  “If by ‘help me,’ you mean untying me and letting me go, I’m game.” I refused to let him see the longing that seared the inside of my chest at those words, a longing that made absolutely no sense. After all, I didn’t know this man. We had no past, and there was no reason I should desire to be with him. No reason for this strange longing. Besides, beneath the longing was a simmering hatred, an anger so deep and true that it brought me balance and kept me from giving in.

  “Just let me go,” I said, desperation creeping into my voice. “You’ve obviously got me confused with someone else.”

  “No, darling.” He pulled back, shaking his head, and there was that same deep sadness in his pale blue eyes. “You’re the one who has confused yourself with someone you’re not. But you won’t be, not for much longer.” His expression hardened. “You’re going to help me find the Infinity Key, so I can finish what we started. I’ll bring him back, Arabella, and your memories along with him. And then we’ll finally be together again.”

  “This is ridiculous,” I snapped, tired of this circular, delusional conversation. I’d made the decision to ignore the little voice in the back of my head that whispered he might be right. Entertaining it would only prove I was just as crazy as he was, and I wasn’t. Right? “We’re not long-lost lovers, and you don’t know me. Stop pretending otherwise.”

  “Darling,” he answered, straightening up to his full height. “I’m the only one who does know you. But since we have to pretend we don’t know each other, at least for a little bit, I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Lucas Moranius. Soon, you’ll say that name with all the love and trust that we used to share, instead of the revulsion and fear that you so misguidedly cling to.”

  With that, he walked back out, leaving me alone but for a tangled mess of thoughts and emotions that I couldn’t begin to make sense of.

  The men dressed as EMTs came back into the room shortly after that, Blondie walking a few steps ahead of the still-disheveled Redeye. They settled in front of me, careful not to get too close. Redeye still looked a little rough around the edges, but much improved from the limp sack of a man Blondie had dragged out earlier. I wondered what Blondie had done to help him recover so quickly.

  Maybe Blondie has healing powers like Lucas, I thought. A shiver crawled down my spine when I remembered that unearthly red light, which had healed my ribs so effortlessly. There was no telling what else that strange power could do. Obviously, it could wound as well as heal—Redeye was proof of that.

  I still wasn’t sure how Lucas had wounded Redeye anyway. The man had smashed Redeye in the stomach with a glowing mace that didn’t draw blood. Yet, Redeye had still been hurt. It didn’t make sense. Nothing about this made sense.

  Maybe you’re going crazy, I thought. Or maybe this was all just one long, nightmarish hallucination that would come to an end at any second. But only seriously hardcore drugs could make me conjure up a nightmare where I’d been kidnapped by a lunatic who insisted that he was part of some forgott
en past.

  I don’t think assuming this isn’t real is going to help you, a voice in my head whispered. Until proven otherwise, I was going to have to assume this was my new reality.

  I took a breath. If this was my new reality, if Lucas was real, then maybe he was just crazy. But if that was the case, how did he know my name? And what was up with the superpowers? I wished I could ask someone, but the only people here were the so-called EMTs, and I doubted they’d be forthcoming with answers.

  What they were forthcoming with, however, was a whole lot of attitude.

  “You think you’re hot shit, don’t you?” Redeye snarled as he raked me with his bloody gaze. “Think you’re special, because the Master doesn’t want to hurt you?”

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Blondie growled. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  “I’m not going to let this little bitch sit here and look all self-righteous,” Redeye spat. “The Master brought us here to do a job. Or have you forgotten why we were recruited in the first place?”

  “Have you forgotten that the Master almost exorcised your ass just a few minutes ago?” Blondie’s eyes blazed with rage, and he bared his monstrous teeth. “You keep letting your temper get the best of you, Xibrax, and you’re no better than the lesser demons we left behind in Hell.”

  “Thanks for the lesson, Mom.” Redeye, or rather, Xibrax, sneered. I wasn’t sure what kind of name that was, but it definitely sounded foreign. Maybe these guys were European, despite the lack of accents? That certainly seemed more plausible than them being demons from hell, as they seemed to be suggesting. “Doesn’t change the fact that this bitch knows where the key is. If I get her to tell us, we win, and the Master will reward me handsomely! Why can’t you see that?”

  “Because she doesn’t remember, you idiot!” Blondie threw up his hands. “God himself must have stuck me with you, just to torture me for being one of the damned.”

  “I dunno,” I said nonchalantly as an idea struck me. “Maybe I do know where the key is.”

  “Shut up,” Blondie snapped at me. “She’s trying to screw with you,” he growled at Xibrax. “She knows what’ll happen if the Master catches you laying another finger on her.”

  Before Xibrax could answer, the door swung open again. Both men turned toward it as one, their faces going blank, their shoulders straightening. But it wasn’t Lucas who entered. Instead, a mountain of a man barreled straight toward us, green energy blazing from his hands. Xibrax hurled a fireball at the intruder, but the man waved his hand, and a gust of wind blew the fire straight back toward them. I fully expected him to attack them with the weapon. Instead, he swung his glowing arm wide, and a gale-force wind slammed Xibrax and Blondie into the far wall. Bones crunched, and the two men slid to the dusty floor, unconscious. I watched with bated breath as the stranger knelt beside the two men, checking their pockets. My heart galloped in my chest as though I’d been the one swinging glowing fists and slamming men into walls with the power of the wind. What the hell had just happened?

  You may as well stop asking that question, the voice in my head said dryly. You’re starting to sound like a broken record.

  I scowled, but put my questions aside and focused on my savior. Now that he wasn’t darting around the room like the Flash, I took advantage of the moment to get a better look at him. He was built like a god, at least six foot four, with massive shoulders, a broad chest that stretched his black T-shirt to capacity, and corded arms covered in Celtic tattoos. His thigh muscles bulged as he squatted next to my jailers, barely contained by his jeans, and I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. His face was shadowed by the shaggy copper hair that covered his eyes, but I could make out his slightly crooked Roman nose, his broad, razor-edged cheekbones, a chiseled jaw, and full lips that were currently pressed together in consternation.

  He looked up, as though sensing my perusal, and my heart stopped for a moment as I met the most unreal green eyes I’d ever seen in my life. They were the color of emeralds, deep and true and stunning. Power brimmed from their hidden depths.

  “Thank the gods I made it in time.” I blinked at the thick Scottish brogue in his voice. “Are ye all right?” He crossed the room in three long strides, then knelt in front of me.

  “Y-yeah. I’m okay.” Jesus, I was stammering. My cheeks were flushed, my heart racing, and it had nothing to do with the danger I’d been in. No, my body was reacting to the presence of this gorgeous Scotsman, as if I were a schoolgirl come face to face with my football star crush for the very first time.

  Get a grip, Arabella! I didn’t know who this guy was or what he wanted—major stranger danger.

  “Umm, any chance you could untie me?” I asked, shifting in my chair as much as my restraints would allow. Now that the adrenaline rush had faded, my limbs were starting to ache like nobody’s business.

  “Of course. That’s what I’m here for, lass.” He rose, then walked around the back of my chair to untie my arms. Warm breath caressed the back of my neck as he leaned down, sending goose bumps racing along my flesh. But these were the good kind, with none of the creep factor Lucas had given me earlier. His rough, calloused fingers brushed against my inner forearms as he untied the rope, and then my arms fell to my sides, suddenly free.

  “Thank you,” I said fervently, tension sliding off my shoulders as the man came back around. He bent to free my ankles, then slowly rose, his big hands settling on my hips. Those calloused fingers grazed my abdomen as they pushed up my shirt, sending sparks through me. I sucked in a breath, taking in an unexpected lungful of his manly, woodsy scent. Mmm.

  Wait. What? “Just what the hell are you doing?” I demanded, heat rushing to my cheeks as I realized what was going on. I shoved at his chest with my newly freed hands, trying to get him off. But it was like shoving at a boulder, and my ribs protested sharply at the effort.

  The Scotsman glanced up at me, arching an auburn brow. “Calm yerself, lass. I’m not trying to ravish ye. I just need to check yer injuries. Don’t worry. ’Tis nothing I haven’t seen before.”

  Those emerald eyes dropped back down to my exposed midriff, and I frowned. Who was this guy? “Damn.” He whistled low as he inspected the mottled bruising on my rib cage. “Ye’ve definitely done a number on yerself here.” He pressed his palm lightly against my ribs, and I couldn’t quite hold back the whimper that escaped. “Och. Are ye in a lot of pain?” His gaze jerked back to mine, full of concern now.

  “No, not a lot,” I admitted. In fact, his warm palm felt good against my skin, sending a pleasurable heat through me now that he wasn’t pressing so hard. “One of them healed me.”

  “Well, if they did, they did a bloody terrible job. A proper healer would have made ye whole, not left ye with these damnable bruises.” Scowling, he removed his hand and sat back on his haunches. “Why the bleeding hell did ye let these buffoons do this to ye anyhow? I figured someone like ye would have known better.”

  I glared at him, my attraction momentarily forgotten. “I didn’t ‘let’ them do anything. I was in a car accident, and those two dickheads showed up in an ambulance and brought me here instead of the hospital.”

  The man cursed, then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a plastic zip-lock bag filled with large, square gauze pads. “So they’d already determined your location, then,” he murmured as he pulled one of the pads out of the bag, then peeled off its plastic packaging. Then he pulled out another bag filled with something that looked like poultry seasoning. He poured the crushed-up powder on the pad.

  “I don’t really think that’s going to help,” I started to say as he pressed it to my ribs. But the pad began to glow, and I gasped as it emanated a soft warmth that eased the pain. I felt the pad seal itself to my side, and when the man dropped his hand, I took in my first real breath since the accident.

  “Ye were saying?” The man arched a brow, then nodded in satisfaction. His expression softened as he studied my ribs again. “One or two more of those a
nd ye should be good to go.”

  “What… what is this thing and what are you putting on it?” I prodded the gauze at my side, amazed when the action resulted in nothing but a faint twinge. This was incredible… and impossible.

  “A healing patch,” the man responded. “And the dust is a mystical combination of herbs. I’d give you specifics, but I’m afraid only Agnid knows that for sure, and she knows better than to give it to a blabbermouth like me.” He reached up to touch the cut at my temple, his eyes soft with concern, and I closed mine at the gentleness. Warmth began coursing through my body again, and I hardly noticed the sting as those calloused fingers prodded the wound. “We’ll have to get this cleaned, but I’ve no time for it now. These motherless fools will be up soon.” He motioned to the unconscious men. “I’d slice ‘em in half if not for the poor blokes they’re stuck inside.” He gripped me by the elbow and pulled me to my feet. My heart sank at the harsh look that had etched itself into his face. “We have to get moving now, lass.”

  “Moving?” I asked. “I don’t even know who you are.” I looked down at his hand, the one that had been glowing with green energy only moments ago. “Or what you are, for that matter.”

  “Is that so?” He seemed both annoyed and amused by my admission. “I ken yer kind have a narrow-minded view of history, but I never dreamed ye’d have lived yer whole life without learning of the Druids.”

  “Druids?” I stared at him, openmouthed. “Like from the cereal boxes?”

  “Cereal boxes?” He scowled, folding his massive arms across his broad chest. “Please tell me yer no’ confusing me with a leprechaun, lass. If yer that daft, there may not be any hope for ye.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re—”

  “My name is Brodie MacTaggert,” he said, sounding miffed. “Like I said, I’m a Druid hailing from the Mystic Moors. And if yer quite done with all the oohs and ahs, I’m here to help ye.”