Angel Kissed (The Watchtower Sentinels Book 1)

by Jasmine Walt

  “Ye might be more trouble than yer worth, lass,” he growled, a vein pulsing at his temple.

  “Then maybe you should let me go!” I shoved at him, but he didn’t budge. Dammit! Where was my gun when I needed it?

  “Trust me, lass, ye dinnae want me to go. Ye won’t last half a day on yer own, and I can’t have yer death laying on my chest for the rest of my nights.”

  “Fine.” I yanked my hands from his grip and crossed my arms over my chest. “I absolve you, then! What I do is officially no longer your concern. Not that it ever was.” I glared at him, not sure why the hell he was so interested in me. How did he even know I was in trouble, anyway?

  “Oh, is that how it is?” Brodie threw back his head and laughed, his broad shoulders shaking. “The girl who doesn’t even know where she comes from thinks she can give me the night off?” He leaned in close, so close that I could smell him. Musk, sweat, and something uniquely earthly filled my nostrils, and the combination made me strangely lightheaded. “I dinnae take orders from ye, lass,” he growled, his eyes sparkling with rage.

  ”Then who do you take orders from?” I insisted. “Who told you to come and rescue me?”

  “Gaia herself, of course.” He scoffed, as though that were obvious. “We Druids take our orders from Mother Earth. And for reasons that she hasn’t shared with me, she wants me to protect ye. And so I shall, even if it’s against yer will.”

  He lunged for me, and I sidestepped him with a speed that shouldn’t have been impossible. Before I knew it, I’d driven my shoulder into his shoulder, and my palm beneath his chin, forcing him off balance. My other hand slammed into his kidney from behind, and he went crashing to the ground.

  Holy Jesus. How the hell did I do that? My heart jackhammered in my chest even as I twisted his arm behind his back. I’d had years of training in hand-to-hand combat before my epilepsy started, but I’d never moved this fast in my life.

  Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one with ninja moves. Before I knew what was happening, Brodie broke my hold, then did a back handspring onto his feet. He glared at me for a moment, chest heaving, before a ridiculous grin that sent my stomach flip-flopping spread over his face.

  “Very good, lass,” he said, admiration in his voice. “Seems ye haven’t lost all yer training after all.” His eyes softened a little. “I dinnae want to fight ye, ye know.”

  “I dinnae blame ye,” I sang back, mocking his Scottish accent. Those gorgeous eyes narrowed, and I wondered if maybe I was being an idiot by provoking him. He outweighed me by a good seventy-five pounds and had at least a foot and a half on me. The bastard could probably snap my neck without breaking a sweat.

  “Do ye know why I dinnae want to fight ye, lass?” he asked, starting toward me. My hackles rose at his confident swagger. It was obvious he thought this was over.

  “No, and I don’t care.” I waited until he was close, then ducked and swung my elbow into his ribs. He blocked the blow easily, and then we were fighting, fists and legs flying as we each tried to penetrate the other’s defenses. I ducked and dodged, spun and kick, my eyes constantly searching for a weak spot. It was as if someone else had taken over my body, someone with far more speed and agility. Someone who had experience fighting the superhuman.

  There, I thought, watching his footwork. Nearly flawless, but there was a weak spot. I waited until he struck again, then dropped into a crouch and swept my foot out. “Ha!” I crowed as he went crashing to the ground yet again. The bigger someone was, the harder they fell. And this man was a monster. Not wasting any time, I jumped atop that massive body, getting myself inside his guard, then slammed my elbow into his forehead, right in that soft spot above and between his eyes.

  Fuck! Pain exploded up my arm. It was like elbowing a goddamned boulder! Just what was this guy made from?

  “Are ye quite done yet, lass?” Brodie grunted, his expression murderous now. Those huge hands grabbed mine, and he rolled atop me, crushing me into the ground. “’Tis clear that ye’ve been trained by the Sentinels themselves, though ye dinnae seem to remember. Ye fight like a warrior.”

  “Get off me!” I cried, struggling against his weight, but it was no use.

  “Yer going to thank me for this later,” Brodie said, leaning in. His warm breath caressed my ear as he whispered in a strange language. Instantly, the tension bled out of me. My mind began to slip away as the foreign chant continued. Try as I might, I couldn’t fight the seductive words beckoning me to sleep.

  “It’ll be all right, lass,” he whispered, in English now, just before I finally fell into unconsciousness. “I won’t let anything bad happen to ye.”

  And for some strange reason, there was a part of me that believed him.

  7

  Arabella

  I woke up in the backseat of a parked sedan, feeling a lot better than I’d expected. For once, I felt well rested, and my aches and pains were so faint that I barely noticed them. All the fear and anxiety from earlier seemed to have vanished without a trace, leaving my heart lighter and somewhat at peace.

  At least… until I remembered what had happened.

  “Shit,” I muttered as I pushed myself upright. I had to duck a little to avoid bumping my head against the car’s low ceiling. The interior was black and looked new, with air-freshener smell mixed with that familiar musk-and-earth scent. Brodie’s scent. Guess he’d tossed me in the backseat, then driven off to… where?

  I ducked my head a little so I could peer out the windshield. Beyond the hood of the car, the red lights surrounding a sign blinked back at me—Mel’s Diner. I knew this place. We were just south of Portland, maybe fifteen miles from the industrial district Brodie had busted me out of. Leaning over the passenger-side headrest, I spotted a pair of jeans, two shirts, and a handwritten note. I snatched the paper up first, then leaned against the window so I could use the streetlights to read it.

  In the worst scrawl I’d ever seen, Brodie had written:

  I know you’re upset, lass. You have every right to be, after all that you’ve been through. But whether you want to admit it or not, you need me. We need to work together and figure out what’s going on—why those Demonkin and the bastard leading them want you so badly. But you must be willing to work with me in order for us to get anywhere. We can’t be at odds all the time.

  So, instead of jerking you around, let me tell you the reasons why you want to take my offer. After all, you’ll want all the information possible before making any decision, yes?

  I snorted at that. Yeah, I was real sure that the information Brodie was about to present was completely unbiased. But even so, a small smile tugged at my lips, and I read on.

  You’ll want the clothes I’ve left on the seat for you because, well, you look like a hot mess without them.

  Fair enough, I thought, looking down at myself. My clothes were torn and dirty, and I probably smelled.

  You’ll want the pancakes and maple syrup inside this fine establishment I’ve parked outside of because they’re delicious and we both need to fuel up.

  I glanced toward the diner again, and my stomach growled. Pancakes sounded awfully tempting. I couldn’t remember how long it had it been since I’d last eaten.

  And you’ll want my help because, and this is the important part, you’re going to die without it. Gaia showed me a vision of a possible future of yours, and trust me, you don’t want it to come to pass.

  A chill rushed down my spine against those words, all vestiges of amusement fleeing me. A vision? Brodie had seen a freaking vision of me, and it sounded to me as if I’d died in it. My chest tightened, and I braced my hand against the seat in front of me, taking in slow breaths.

  Calm down, I told myself. Panicking wasn’t going to solve anything, especially since I was still missing so much info. Looking down at the note I clenched in my fist, I finished it.

  I hope to see you inside. We can talk in there. If not, I wish you the best.

  Sincerely,

  The
Sexy Druid Inside the Diner.

  P.S. I’d go with the red. It’ll look good on you.

  I scowled, then glanced over at the clothing he’d left for me. Sure enough, one top was red, while the other was black. Both were sweaters, to account for the nippy weather, but as I shook them out, I could already tell that the black one would cling to me like a second skin. The red one’s V-neck would show a good amount of cleavage, so no wonder he wanted me to wear it.

  Typical man.

  Still, both sweaters were similar to what I might find in my own closet, and the jeans, socks, and underwear were all acceptable too. I should take them, at the very least, before getting out of the car. Was there a spare set of keys hiding out here somewhere? I could wire the car if I really had to, and then I’d be on my way back home. I knew how to get there from here. Brodie wouldn’t miss the car. He could ride the currents back home to Scotland, or wherever he lived.

  That’s a dick move, Palladino, a voice in my head accused. You should go in there and talk to him.

  I bit my lip, conceding. Running away wasn’t the answer. I’d already tried that and failed. And even though crawling back to my bed and pulling the covers over my head sounded tempting, it wasn’t the right thing to do. Now that this crazy can of worms had been popped open, I needed to confront it and find out just what was in there. I needed answers, and Brodie was the only one who could give them to me.

  Sighing, I got out of the car and walked to the diner.

  “Well, yer a sight for sore eyes,” Brodie said with a grin after I came in and approached his table. He was sitting in a booth with a huge platter of French toast in front of him, and he gave me an appreciative once-over with those wicked eyes of his. “I see ye’ve decided to spite me by wearing the black,” he added as I slid into the seat opposite him. “But the joke is on you. I wanted ye to wear the black.” He winked, forking up another piece of toast.

  I gaped at him. “Is this some kind of joke to you?” I asked, fisting my hands beneath the table. “You fucking roofied me!”

  “I did no such thing,” he insisted blithely. “There were no drugs involved. Just a wee bit of magic to mobilize your hormones against ye. More like holistic intervention, I’d say.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it!” I slapped my hand against the table, jarring his cup of coffee. “You kidnapped me!”

  “And here I was thinking I had saved you from the kidnappers.” He pinned me with a hard stare, his voice deadly serious now. “Or was that someone else, then? Where do ye think ye’d be right now if I hadn’t come to break you out of there?”

  “I… I…” I let out an angry breath. How the hell had he turned the tables to make me feel guilty instead? “How did you find me anyway?”

  “Gaia, of course,” he said around a mouthful of French toast, as if receiving orders from an earth goddess didn’t make him sound like a madman. “Would have been downright rude of her to show me that vision and not tell me how to rescue ye.”

  I opened my mouth to ask him what he’d seen in the vision, but the waitress came by and asked me if I wanted anything to eat. Suddenly, I realized I was ravenous, and I ordered a platter of eggs, bacon, and hash browns. It came much more quickly than I expected, and I had to force myself not to fall upon it like a starving beast. It didn’t matter what Brodie had seen, I decided. He’d already rescued me from the danger, hadn’t he? I didn’t want to be haunted by nightmares about how Lucas would have slowly killed me if Brodie hadn’t shown up. At least, that was what I told myself as I resolutely shoveled ketchup-covered potatoes into my mouth.

  “There ye go, lass.” Brodie nodded with satisfaction. “Fuel is what ye need. I can already see color coming back into those bonny cheeks of yers.”

  I blushed, but didn’t stop eating. Brodie watched me in silence for a few moments, then, bizarrely, started talking about his past. “I never knew my dad,” he said, folding his muscular arms behind his head. “He left when my mam was still big in the belly with me. Must have been a handsome devil though.” I expected him to grin, but he stared out the window instead, his eyes narrowed in contemplation.

  “Is this when you tell me that good looks run in the family?” I scoffed in between bites.

  He looked back at me with a grin, those eyes sparkling devilishly. “No, but I like the way yer thinking. I was going to say that Druids are forbidden from having relations out of wedlock, and everyone told me my mam was a good Druid. Agnid, the woman who raised me after she passed, told me my mam loved me a lot, even though I damaged her reputation with my birth. Told me she was full of love, my mam. Makes me wish I could have met her.”

  The melancholy in his voice touched my heart, but I refused to show it. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because,” Brodie answered, taking a sip of his coffee. “We’re stuck together, ye and me, at least for now. I figured I’d give ye a few truths about me, because I’m about to tell ye a few things that might be hard for ye to hear. Things that might be easier to hear from someone ye ken a little.”

  I tensed. “What kind of things?” A chill of foreboding spread through me, and I tried to ignore it. After all, I wanted answers about what was going on, even if they were unpleasant ones. I needed to know what I’d gotten myself into.

  “I’m about to get into that,” he said. “But before I do, is there anything else ye want to know? My favorite song? My astrological sign? How good I look with my shirt off, perhaps?”

  “As if.” My cheeks flamed even as I glared at him. But I found my eyes trailing up and down his torso. God, but why did that T-shirt have to be so tight on him? I couldn’t see every detail, but it was obvious there was a masculine masterpiece beneath that black cotton. “Why don’t you tell me about your tattoos?” I blurted out. Yeah, that was better. That was a perfectly legitimate question. They were beautiful, intricate Celtic designs that covered both his arms. When he shifted, the black ink seemed to shimmer in a way that normal tattoos didn’t.

  “They’re ceremonial for the most part,” he said, the knowing look in his eyes sending tingles through me. “But a few of them are enchanted.” He pushed up his sleeve a little, revealing a design near his shoulder. “This one makes me move faster.” His strong fingers trailed down his bicep to the crease of his elbow, stopping at two concentric triangles. “This one lends me otherworldly strength.” He moved down the shaft of his arm, stopping at a pair of inverted lines crossing each other a few inches above his palm. “And this one here, it makes me a really, really good lover.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “Oh, stop.” I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t fight the grin twitching at my own lips.

  “I cannae help it,” he purred, giving me a once-over that sent thrills rushing through my body. “We may have gotten off to a rough start, but yer a bonny lass, and if we weren’t in such danger, I’d toss ye over my shoulder and rush off to the nearest cave so I could have my wicked way with ye.”

  I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. Was he serious? I knew I should be outraged, but my breath caught as a series of erotic images, all involving a naked, gleaming Scotsman, paraded through my mind.

  Stop it! I scolded myself. This was not the time for those thoughts.

  I opened my mouth to rebuke him, but he distracted me by pushing his cup of coffee across the table toward me. “Umm, no thanks,” I said, glancing at the way-too-creamy contents. I preferred my coffee black, thank you very much.

  “I’m not telling ye to drink it,” he said as if I was an idiot. “I want ye to look inside.”

  Suppressing a sigh, I pulled the half-full cup of coffee closer, then took a good look. Brodie passed his hand over it, and the liquid began to shake. Before my very eyes, the cream separated from the coffee, creating spinning rings that grew larger and larger as they neared the cup’s circular wall.

  “What is this?” I asked, trying not to sound awed. After all, I’d already seen so many impossible things tonight. This wasn’t at the top of the list b
y any means. And yet…

  “I’m teaching ye something,” he said. “The world as you currently know it doesna exist, at least, not in the way ye think it does. The earth we live in—Sentinels, Druids, plain old human beings—is just one of seven realms in existence.”

  “Seven realms?” I echoed. “I thought there was only Heaven, Hell, and Earth.” That was what I’d always been taught, and I was having a hard time wrapping my head around the idea that there were more.

  “Well, there used to be eight, but that’s beside the point right now.” He shrugged. “What’s important is that ye know that these realms do exist and that the Earth Realm is special among them.” He stretched his fingers, and the center-most ring spun quicker. “The Earth Realm is the anchor realm. It exists as a port between all the others. That means that no one and nothing from any of the other realms can travel through the realms without going through Earth first. As ye can imagine, that makes our home realm something of a refugee camp of sorts. Black-market magic traders, mystical outlaws, basically every bottom feeder from across the other realms end up here.” He shook his head. “And that’s where the Sentinels come in.” He passed his hand over the cup again, and the outermost ring began to spin faster. “That’s the Celestial Realm. It’s what humans in this realm know as heaven. Angels rule the Celestial Realm, and they’re by far the most powerful creatures in existence and absolutely concerned with justice and righteousness, like you see in all the movies. Their powers are fickle though, and diminish the longer they stay away from their home realm. That’s why, a handful of centuries ago, they mixed their blood with earth dwellers. They created bloodlines of half human/half angel beings.”

  “Those are the Sentinels?” I asked, my eyes wide with wonder. This was the strangest thing I had ever heard, but something about it felt right. As if there were a part of me inside that had known it all along.