by Willa Blair
Puzzled did not describe his feelings. Why was this woman taking everything he said in stride? If nothing else, she should at least be curious if not down right frightened by the night’s events.
“Ye dinnae have any questions about what’s happened?”
Abigail flung her hair forward and began to braid the mass of blonde strands falling around her face. “You mean the demon or you?” Her laughter was as musical as her soft southern accent.
“MacRath, I’ve lived in New Orleans all my life. I’ve been having visions since before I got my first bra. I’m not a stranger to fighting demons, although, I have to admit watching you do your appearing act and then spiriting me here was a bit unnerving, but hang around NOLA long enough and you see all kinds of things that would spook ordinary people.” She fisted her hands on her hips. “I’m not one of them.”
“Ye make a habit of accosting demons?” The woman was just a wee bit touched.
Again, Darach sent up a mental S.O.S to Michael. Still no answer. What choice did he have? He had to tell her the truth, swear her to secrecy, and hope she kept her word.
“Then I willna be telling ye a pack of lies. Have a seat, and I’ll explain what I am and what I do.”
“Fine.” His guest took a seat on the high-back bench that served as a rough and uncomfortable couch.
Darach pulled the footstool from underneath the piano and placed it in front of Abby before seating himself.
“Would ye care for anything to drink?”
“Only if it’s got a lot of liquor in it. It’s been one heck of a night.” Her laughter bubbled forth again. This time it caressed his insides with a warmth he’d forgotten ever existed.
“I can get ye some whiskey.”
“That would work, but I think I’ll wait until after your story.” She cocked her head to one side. “Not only do you have an impressive Scottish accent, but your speech is definitely old-fashioned. Only it seems to come out in spurts, like you don’t always use it.”
Darach wished for a drink himself. The woman would probably think him mad. And what sane person wouldn’t?
“’Tis complicated, and ye will probably think me a bit loony, but I fear I have no choice.” He cleared his throat, and then allowed the words to flow.
“I was born over a thousand years ago in Scotland. I lived and died there also.”
****
He gnashed his teeth as he reviewed the report one of his committee brought to him. The woman who had interfered was interesting, but the man who saved both her and another from Baras made him want to retch. A thorn in his side for what seemed like an eternity was stronger than he’d been told. It would be hard to bring Darach down, but he would and it would be a fitting and final end.
Note to self: I must remember not to interfere in what happens in the mortal world. All will work as it should by grace.
From the desk of Michael/Archangel to God
Chapter Three
Darach paused to see how Abigail was taking his words.
Her eyes opened wider, and her hands trembled slightly where she held them in her lap. The soft material of her dress caressed her thighs. Darach wondered if she bespelled him for he wanted to be the covering on her body. Sex was not something he’d thought of often since he’d awakened from the dead, and not something he and his boss Michael had ever discussed. Would he be breaking any rules if he did indulge with the beautiful Abigail?
“You died there?”
“Aye, me cousin Angus slaughtered my family and myself. I know ’tis hard to believe, but I was chosen to be an immortal. To stop crimes and punish those who commit them, not to mention ridding the world of demons. The archangel Michael gave me no choice in the matter. And that’s what I’ve been doing ever since.”
Abigail stood up and began to pace the room’s circumference.
After a bit, she stopped and turned toward Darach.
“You certainly know how to fabricate a good story. Did you pull your text from a romance novel? I mean, immortals, really?”
“I do not lie.” He stood up also and moved to the cupboard where he kept a few bottles of scotch. He supposed it had been too much to hope she’d believe him. After pouring several fingers of the golden liquor into a silver goblet, he allowed himself the pleasure of taking a few deep gulps.
“I’d go easy on the booze, Mr. Immortal Man, I would think the archangel might not be happy with your indulgence.”
“A sheep’s testes on what he thinks.”
Almost to an instance of his last word being uttered, Darach found himself in the presence of Michael.
“You forget who holds your life in their hands, Highlander.”
Michael’s eyes glowed with a fiery gold blaze. Perhaps he should have kept his mouth shut and then again…
“I forget nothing, Michael. Not the deaths, the executions, nor the fact I asked your advice and ye ignored me.”
“I was in conference with my boss, and he comes way before you do, Darach.”
Darach, angry as he was, could not dispute that fact.
“Agreed. Now would ye mind telling me what I’m supposed to do with that woman?”
“Not what you want to do.”
Heat burned on his face as well as inside his body when he realized Michael had ascertained his lust toward Abby.
“If ye stayed out of me mind, ye wouldn’t know this.”
“Right again, immortal man, as she called you, but I have to know what is going on inside your head. And while I’m happy something has finally creased the machine you’ve become over the centuries, you will not act upon your lust for Abigail Dupree.”
“Why not?” He knew he was taking his life in his hands, and only an hour before he would have welcomed the chance to die but something about Abigail made him want to explore the essence that made her who she was.
“Abigail seems to be one of a kind in her city. Although, we know there are others who can see what normal mortals can’t, she is the only one willing to admit or act upon it. And she is an innocent in the ways of men. Leave her alone.”
Darach shot Michael a look that could get him more than an admonishment.
Michael continued without acknowledging. “She is already under surveillance by the demon world. You are to protect her only. To show more will be a red alert to Angus and his kind. You do not want him to touch her as he did Briene.”
“Angus? Angus is dead!”
“Technically he is, but he’s also a demon.”
“How can that be? I saw his grave. He should be smoldering in hell.” Darach was so agitated his hands shook.
Michael smiled slightly. “He was in hell. It seems he begged Satan for a chance to prove himself and now he’s topside.”
Before Darach could assimilate that information, Michael spoke again.
“Now he’s after you.”
“Why? As far as he knows I am dead. Remember, he killed me and why be I just finding this out now?”
“Yes, of course I remember.” Michael’s tone was a symphony of sympathy and a bit of ire. “You have to remember, Darach, demons have been dying by your hand and other immortals’ for centuries. You have exceeded what I thought you could do. In doing so, you have earned the hatred of all of hell’s minions. And as for Angus, I just got the memo myself. He’s only been out a couple of days, but he’s already wreaking havoc.
Rage escalated and fought to be released inside Darach. His fists clenched, and his teeth ground together to keep it under control.
“Darach, we can’t mess this up. Abby is important because of her gift, and she is special—more special than I am at liberty to say for the moment. Do all you can to keep her safe.
“I know that you have for the most part abstained from the urges of a man since I’ve known you or if you haven’t you’ve been discreet, but I need you to keep your mind on Abby’s protection. Try not to give in to your baser needs. That’s an order from higher than me.”
“Michael, why me? Can’t
ye get another immortal to protect her?” He dreaded to hear Michael’s answer. If he said yes, then Darach would not be able to see her. And since his fellow friends and immortals were devastatingly handsome to the female mortal population or so the rumors went, he’d rather not have them guarding Abby. And if the archangel said no, he would be in a world of hurt trying to keep his lust under wraps.
“No, it has to be you. You’ve dealt with more demons then some of the other immortals. And to pull you away from NOLA at this time would just raise suspicion. Besides, Abby will be the instrument you will need to capture Angus.”
“Capture? Not kill?”
“Correct.”
Rage over being denied a chance to even the score with Angus ignited something deep inside Darach. He would not stand by without seeing Angus pay for what he did to his family, his life, and to so many others—now that the piece of scum was a demon and on his turf.
“Judgment for Angus will come from elsewhere, not you, Darach. You are to take him down and then bring him to me.”
“And if I should find and capture him, how do ye suppose I get him here without killing him?”
“You will have to decide that for yourself.” Michael stood up and moved from behind his desk. “In the meantime, you need to make certain you keep Abigail safe. Stick with her every possible moment.”
“I willna allow him to kill another woman because of me.” His anger ebbed, replaced by terror and loathing at the past possibly resurrecting itself.
“For the reasons I’ve already disclosed to you, you will do as you’ve been instructed. Guard the mortal woman, capture Angus, and if you need my help, then call me. That is all, Darach.”
Before he could respond, Darach was back in the room with Abby. By her frantic and disbelieving stare, he could have only been gone a few moments.
“What happened? Where did you go?”
“Ye wouldna believe me if I told ye.”
“Try me.” Abby refused to allow the quaking inside her limbs to manifest in her hands. This was not a time to show the terror she’d experienced when Darach disappeared. She didn’t know where she was or how to get home.
“Michael took umbrage with me remark about the sheep’s balls. He wanted to have a chat.”
“Ahh. Tell me what he said.”
“That I’m to capture a demon and keep me hands off of ye in the bargain.”
Abby’s lungs expelled a gulp of air, and she forced her trembling legs to walk back to the bench she’d vacated earlier. Once there, she looked up at Darach. “Why would he mention me, and how does he know me?”
“Believe this, Michael knows everything about everybody.”
“How could an angel even mention something about you keeping your hands to yourself. I mean, it’s preposterous.”
“What is? That he could know, or that I have been indulging in lustful thoughts about ye?” Darach’s grin was magnetic, although a bit wolfish. And definitely dangerous. Remember, Abby, he’s dark, handsome, and not to be trusted.
After his disappearing act, she was prone to believe he was possibly what he said he was—an immortal but still…
“Both.” How she got that one word past her lips, she had no idea. But for some reason, the second part of her question was far more important than the first. She wondered if he would lie.
“As I said before, he knows everything. He has God’s ear or so he says, and I believe him. As for the thoughts about ye, he be right.”
Abby’s mouth opened to ask more, but Darach moved in a blur of dark and light. His lips were now centimeters away from hers.
Michael, you owe me this one thing before I do as you ask. His lips barely touched hers…
Darach! The warning came a second before Darach’s body went sailing across the room. The landing wasn’t all that hard, but a lesson. Michael could kill him without blinking an eye. For the moment, the archangel was just irked.
Darach peeled himself away from the dented wall, shrugged his shoulders, and then moved to Abby.
“Come, I will take ye home. I’m not sure why, but it seems we will be housemates.”
“I don’t think so, MacRath.”
The fire in her gaze re-kindled the one Michael so successfully put out.
“Ye have no choice. Michael says ye are to be protected, and I can only do that if we be together.”
Abigail drew back from his touch. He couldn’t blame her. She’d had a lot thrown at her in the last hour.
“Our living together is so not going to work.”
“I agree, but ye will just have to trust me when I say, I promise to keep me hands to myself.”
“Look, as far as I’m concerned, you’re certifiably insane. I’m still not sure I believe your cock-and-bull story about being an immortal.” The woman paused for breath, and the movement expanded her diaphragm and caused her breasts to rise and fall. “Who is it you’re supposed to protect me from?”
His black eyes turned silver. She wondered if they went that beautiful color when he made love.
“From a demon that loves nothing better than to rape and kill women and children.”
Abby’s heart froze for a beat and then restarted. “Please tell me this has nothing to do with the man that killed your family.”
Darach reached out and pulled her close.
“Hey, what happened to no touching?” Her lips trembled with fear and desire.
“Do ye want the truth or a lie?” His words were terse, and the mesmerizing stare he gave her told her he would answer whichever way she preferred.”
She knew she should probably say lie, but if a demon was after her, Abby would rather know what was going on and take measures to stop it.
“Truth.”
The look he gave her was one of respect.
“Very well, then ye shall have it. According to Michael, ye have drawn the interest of a few demons. Why? It could be because ye have visions and because ye chose to take on a demon yourself earlier. At the moment, Michael’s main concern is to make sure ye stay safe.”
“Great, the first time I get involved in a long time, and I draw the attention of a demon. Not what I had in mind at all.” Abby knew her words were a bit hysterical, but geez, it had not been a great night.
“Ye will be okay. I will make sure Angus cannae touch you.” His words helped some but not a lot. After all he was an immortal or so he said.
“Thanks, but how can I believe you’re who you say you are? I mean I know there are other things in the world besides demons. Entities most people can’t see, but how do I know you’re one of the good guys?”
Darach’s laughter took her by surprise. Instead of frowning at her like she just knew he would, he seemed to find it amusing.
“Hey, this is not funny!” She tried to free herself from his grip.
“Relax, I’ll let ye go in a few minutes. I kin what I’ve told ye and what you’ve seen if only by watching me fly across the room, that ye kin there is a force directing me. Aye, it sounds preposterous, and to be honest, if I be in your shoes, I’d feel the same way.”
Abby watched the amusement disappear from his dark gaze. “If I wasn’t a good guy, first off, you’d already be naked in me bed, and second, worst case scenario, you’d be dead.”
The breath left her lungs about the same time he tightened his grip on her waist.
“I need to get ye home. Any other questions can wait until later.”
Abby’s open-mouthed stare drew Darach’s attention to her lips. He wanted to… Instead he nuzzled the soft swath of her hair with his chin, and allowed himself a moment of pleasure wondering about the what-ifs before waving his hand and his body prepared itself for the teleportation.
His mumbled, “I be not sure if this woman will be the death of me or not,” was met with a loud feminine, “Hmmp!”
Darach’s smile came unbidden at Abby’s ferociousness. A smile that disappeared as the vortex of transference took him and Abby, and did not resurface when they entere
d her home.
Someone had been there. The sulfuric stench caused a feeling of dread to roil up inside his belly.
The demon underworld had wasted little time in tracking Abby. Michael’s words came back to haunt him. Angus was probably not far behind and would do all in his power to strike against another innocent.
Darach pushed away the thoughts of Briene and Jamie. He would need more than his wits about him to do his job. And do it he would, just maybe not the way Michael wanted. He had been cheated out of revenge centuries ago, but if he got the chance to kill Angus for what he’d done, then Michael would have to exact justice on Darach for he would not just turn over Angus for judgment. And God have mercy on Abigail if he failed.
****
Angus clasped his hands together in glee. His sources should be reporting in soon on Darach’s whereabouts. His cousin had disappeared without a trace, but he would find him, and if it took a while, then he had other plans in mind to keep himself occupied and to flush his despised kin out into the open.
Michael tossed his quill pen down, a holdout before mankind created more up-to-date writing utensils. He supposed he could get a computer, be savvier as some of the younger angels teased him, but he liked the old ways the best. Besides, tonight he was not in the mood to pen a note in the journal he kept—Satan’s demons were planning something, and he wanted to know what it was.
Chapter Four
“What’s wrong?” Abby hesitated to ask the question, but Darach’s frozen form scared her spitless. The man could put down a demon without blinking one of those gorgeous dark eyelashes, but as soon as he transported them to her house, he went all arctic.
“Can ye not smell that?” His eyes were still glacial orbs, and his countenance looked like it would crack if he smiled.
“Smell what?” All she could smell was the delectable aroma of sandalwood and musk oozing from the man’s pores. At his impatient wave toward the circumference of her living room, Abby sniffed deeply.
“Stinks like rotten eggs a bit, but odors are ripe here in New Orleans. With the bayous and the marshes not that far away, and a good breeze we get all kinds of scents.”