She prayed she wasn’t making the second biggest mistake of her life.
She started to wander around his town house, still a little numb. Absently, she began inspecting bits and pieces of his home. She picked up a delicate glass bird and winced. Who the hell picked this out? This is so not him. She noticed there were quite a few bird images around the room.
Fiona must have been seriously into bird-watching. Either that, or Seth was. Somehow she couldn’t picture Seth sitting in a blind with a pair of binoculars, watching feathery antics of the boring kind. Then again, what she knew about Seth would fill a thimble.
She stared at a particularly beautiful picture of a winged angel that bore a remarkable resemblance to Seth. It was done in the same icy blues and cool whites as the rest of the home, and made the angel seem untouchable. Inhuman. Was this how Fiona had seen Seth? She risked a quick glance toward the kitchen before moving on from the painting. Fiona had been his wife, and presumably had known him better than Abby did.
Her eyes were drawn once more to the cold, isolated angel. Maybe Seth wasn’t quite what he seemed after all.
* * *
Seth pulled out his cell phone as the coffee pot burbled. “Gabriel. The Shemyaza has made contact.”
Gabriel was silent for a moment. “Tell me.”
Seth remembered the poisonous green miasma he’d seen lingering in Abby’s bedroom. The evil he’d sensed had already fled, but the stench in the room had screamed danger. There was nothing the police would be able to do for Abby.
“They made it appear to be a stalker. Rose petals all over the place, words written in lipstick on the mirror.” Seth’s blood boiled thinking about it. Her home had been invaded while Seth was out hunting Shem. He’d trusted she’d be safe while at work, had figured she’d be alone for no more than a few minutes.
How wrong he’d been. The Shem he’d been hunting had been wily. She had gotten away from him, disappearing into the shadows with barely a trace. He’d hunted for another hour, hoping to find her, but with no luck. It wasn’t until Bill called that he realized how late it was.
If he could kick his own ass, he would. How could he have left Abby unguarded?
“Any idea why they are targeting her?”
“None yet. She’s a normal woman who goes to work and has family and friends. She’s innocent.”
“If we’re wrong, and this is a feeding hunt, that might be the draw.” Gabriel went silent for a moment. “Very well. Keep her close, and keep me posted. If you need help, Piotr will be back in town soon. I’ll call Dante and Damien, let them know what’s going on. They both should be of major assistance to you. They’ll be expecting your call.”
“What about Sasha?” The Knight would be more than capable of helping him protect Abby. Sasha’s ability to fight was legendary, even though the man was barely into his thirties.
“He’s with Micah. They’re out on a mission, checking out different Shem activity.”
Damn it. He was aware that there were other Shem-related things going on in their home state, but that didn’t mean it didn’t rankle that Abby’s case wasn’t being given priority.
“You should know that Rafe hasn’t checked in recently.” Gabriel’s voice was solemn. It always hurt Gabriel to lose one of the Nephilim directly under him. And Rafe was special to all of them. He was the youngest of their group, their baby brother, and they’d pull out all the stops to find him.
“Who’s looking for him?”
“Zeke.”
Shit. It had to be bad if Gabriel was breaking out the heavy hitter. As a Legionnaire, there wasn’t much that could hurt Zeke, unless a Shem figured out his weakness. “Keep me posted?” Rafe was a warrior, but nowhere near as strong as Zeke. If he’d gotten in deeper than he could handle—
“I know you worry about all of us, Seth, but for now I need you to concentrate on Ms. Marcheson.”
Like that would be difficult. “Will do.”
“Be careful. Until we know why the Shemyaza are so interested in her, you’ll need to watch your back.”
“Understood. Stay safe, my brother.” It always felt weird saying that to Gabriel, but they all did it. He might be a true angel, but he was their angel.
“Stay safe, my brother.” The warmth in Gabriel’s voice eased him.
He put his phone away and stuck his head out of the kitchen.
Abby floated around his blue and white living room, a column of living, breathing flame in a world of ice, gently touching here and there. She wordlessly asked for permission to pick up one of the small modern glass sculptures Fiona had loved so much. He noticed that the tension in her shoulders was finally starting to ease, and silently gave her permission to roam as she wished. He would give her anything she wanted to see that horrible fear gone from her eyes.
“Somehow, this place doesn’t really fit you.”
He paused in the act of pouring her coffee. He’d never really thought about his decor, but Fiona had loved it. “No?”
She put the little crystal sculpture down and turned to stare at the painting above his fireplace. Fiona had adored the angel, but Seth had blushed when he first saw it. Fiona had purchased the painting for him as a Christmas present. She’d insisted he hang it above the fireplace. If she’d known how he truly felt about that picture...but he’d never told her what he was, who she was married to, even at the end. The lonely angel had mocked him more than once after Fiona’s death, but now it seemed different. Instead of seeming lonely, the angel seemed to be waiting for something.
Seth shook his head. He was thinking of the angel as himself. If he kept that up, he’d earn himself a hug-me jacket, size medium.
“It seems so...cold. Remote.” She turned to study him with a serious expression in her eyes. “You don’t really strike me that way.”
He sighed and finished pouring the coffee. Time to open up a little. “My wife loved our home.”
There was silence. He glanced up to find her studying him with a compassion that humbled him. After everything she’d been through that night, she was going to try and make him feel better. “I barely remember Fiona.”
He handed her the coffee cup and sipped his own before answering. “She chose the decor when we were first married.”
“She seemed like a nice woman.”
He sat down in an ice-blue armchair and smiled at her gently. Her expression said it all. She was afraid he’d be hurt by the fact that they’d brought up Fiona, but instead he was touched. She was worried about him on one of the worst nights of her life. “It’s all right, Abby. She was very sick at the end, and it was almost a mercy when she passed on. There wasn’t anything anyone could do for her except ease her pain.” And he’d tried. Lord, had he tried. By the time they realized how sick she truly was, not even Rafe could have saved her.
He watched as she sat gingerly on the edge of the white sofa. The tension simmering within her hadn’t eased much. “Do you still miss her?”
He thought about that for a moment. “At first it was like I couldn’t even breathe without her, but my friends helped me get through it. They were there for me at my worst hour.”
Especially Piotr. His brother had quietly and competently kept him from falling apart. It was Piotr who’d made all of the funeral arrangements, kept things running smoothly when all Seth wanted to do was curl up in a ball until it all went away. When that failed, when anger had overtaken grief, Sasha had taken over, dragging Seth to Europe for a month of drinking and exploring that had exhausted him. And when he’d come home, depressed and ready to follow Fiona, Rafe and Zeke had helped him crawl out of the hole he’d dug himself by being the charming assholes he knew and loved. Dante and Damien had been waiting for him when he finally came to his senses and accepted that she was gone, had helped him put his life back together.
Gabriel had offered condolences and the chance to transfer to another cell if he so wished. He hadn’t. His brothers were the best men he knew, and he wouldn’t trade them for anyt
hing.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Her soft tone brought him back from his memories. “She was a very important part of my life, and I’ll never forget her. But she’s been gone for five years. I loved her dearly, but it’s more than time I moved on. I’m okay with that. And I know she would be too.”
She sipped her overly sweet coffee. “Mmm. How did you know I like a little coffee with my cream and sugar?”
Seth grinned. It wasn’t a subtle way to change the subject, but he appreciated the effort. “Fajita night. Frankly, I was amazed there was any cream and sugar left for anyone else.”
Forced amusement turned into a full-blown, slightly lopsided grin. “Good thing you take yours black, then.”
“You’re going to spend the night here.” He nearly winced at his grim tone. Maybe he should have tried to be a little more diplomatic, but it was too late now. There was no way he was leaving her alone.
Abby’s amusement faded away. She put down her coffee cup, the tension back in her shoulders. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Oh, I definitely think it’s a good idea.” He put his cup next to hers. He stood up and crossed his arms. He was dead serious about keeping her safe, either in his home or hers. He knew which he preferred. “You either spend the night here, or I spend the night there. It’s your choice. Either way, you’re stuck with me.”
“Umm...”
“Oh, and don’t plan on going anywhere alone, either. I will be with you at all times. Understood?” In fact, he’d insisted on it when Bill called him. Thank God her brother had agreed, because Seth would have done it anyway, and he didn’t need the big cop arresting him for stalking. Gabriel would have a field day with that one. “Until we find who did this and we know you’re safe, I’m your shadow.”
“Who said this was any of your business? And who is we?”
He leaned down, placing his hands on either side of her head. “The minute that person entered your bedroom, it became my business.” He hoped she could see his determination and understand it. She was his to protect and defend. She’d let him in, and he would guard her now with his life. But first, he had to get her to relax. He tried to tone down the caveman instinct that wanted to lock her in a safe, well-padded box and backed away from her just a hair. “And your brother asked me to.”
Some of the fear left her face. Her shoulders relaxed, the tension easing with the knowledge that Bill had sent Seth to watch over her. Little did she know that it was an angel who’d really sent him. “Okay, Seth.”
He damn near sighed in relief. He nodded and moved back to his chair. He picked up his coffee cup and took a sip. “Do you have any idea who would want to break into your home and leave you a message like that?” If Seth got a hold of whoever had broken in, not even Zeke would be able to hold him back, and Zeke was the strongest Neph in Gabriel’s cell.
She shuddered. “Only one, but he’s in jail.”
The cup paused on its way to his mouth, and one dark brow rose in a question. “Oh? And that would be...?”
She closed her eyes in remembered pain. “Douglas Finley.”
Hell. Her psycho ex. But according to everything they knew, the asshat was still sitting in lockup, serving out a life sentence. “Tell me about Douglas Finley.” He needed to hear the words from her lips, to make her lance the wound that had been inflicted on her that night.
She sighed, staring into her coffee cup rather than at him. “Doug was a man I dated about five years ago. He was smart, good looking, had everything going for him. He was a real-estate agent, and made good money at it, too. He could sell anything to anyone, even with the downturn in the economy. When we started going out, he’d tell me that everything he did was for me. For the future he wanted us to have together. At first, I thought it was charming and romantic.” Her smile twisted, became brittle. “After a while it became smothering.”
The cup was put on the table, her hand going to the scars on her arm. She started rubbing them absently.
“One day, I smiled at a guy I worked with just as Doug came by to take me to lunch. Judd said something amusing, that was all, a joke I don’t even remember, and I smiled at him. Doug didn’t like that. He told me that I was acting like he meant nothing to me, that watching me smile at another man hurt him. I apologized. I explained to him that Judd made a joke and that was what I’d been smiling at. He seemed to accept the explanation.
“As time went on, Doug became more and more jealous. He wanted me to quit my job, to move in with him, but for some reason I was never tempted to do that. Maybe deep down I knew something was wrong, and the more he pushed the more I told him no.” She choked. “God, I was so stupid.”
“No. If you were stupid, you would have given in.”
He wasn’t even certain she’d heard him. “He started telling me he didn’t want me working with male clients anymore. His temper became worse. He started hitting me, little slaps at first that didn’t really hurt. When I complained, he told me that he’d only been joking and that I shouldn’t take it so seriously. I believed him.” Anguish and self-contempt filled her expression, her fingers digging into her arm. Into her scars. “I believed him, Seth.”
If he ever met Doug Finley, the man was dead, human or not.
“It escalated from there. One day he came to my apartment, screaming that I’d slept with one of his coworkers.” She laughed, the sound low and bitter, and Seth had to clench his hands to keep from pulling her into his lap to protect her from the memories. “I’d complimented the man on his wife’s potato salad at the company picnic, and he’d put his hand on my arm when he thanked me. That’s all.” She rubbed her scars harder. “I just couldn’t take it anymore, so I told him that it was over between us, and shut the door in his face.” Abby took a sip of her coffee, but her hands were shaking so badly she nearly dropped the cup when she tried to put it back on the coffee table. “He knocked my door down, and nearly beat me to death. If one of my neighbors hadn’t called the police, I would be dead right now. As it was, they had to do reconstructive surgery on my face. It took two years to finish healing completely, and I still have scars.” She pointed to the faint lines under her jaw and near her nose, barely visible until she pointed them out. She didn’t need to point out the ones on her arm. Not when he was so aware of the way she rubbed at them. “When I came to in the hospital the cops were waiting. After...some things I’d rather not talk about, they finally caught him.”
Was it possible? Could Doug be the Shemyaza that was hunting her? It would explain a lot. Some of the Shem developed obsessions with their prey, refusing to let them go until they were completely devoured. Doug could be one of them.
If so, they’d have to kill him. Once a Shem was on the hunt for specific prey, nothing would stop them.
“He got a life sentence without the possibility of parole. And I got huge therapy and hospital bills and a fear of men I’ve barely gotten over.”
There was silence as Seth absorbed her story. Jail was no barrier to a determined Shem. It was entirely possible he had already gotten free and was hunting again. The easiest way to find out would be to check with Dante. If it was Finley...
When he was done, the man would need a little more than facial reconstructive surgery and therapy.
She sat there, pale and shaken, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to wrap her up in his wings and fly away with her. When she began rubbing her arms, he realized he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.
He steeled himself for the rejection he was certain would come.
She was shaking like a leaf as he settled on the sofa next to her. He pulled her onto his lap, surprised when she didn’t protest but unwilling to let her go. He held her gently, stroking her hair, praying that the hellish visions of Doug would fade away, if only for a few moments. She burrowed against him, her face pressed against the side of his neck, her arms wrapped around him so tightly he could barely breathe. He crooned, nonsense words, but they
seemed to soothe her.
Or so he thought, until her breath caught and she began sobbing on his shoulder. Seth held her, repeating over and over again that everything was okay. No one would hurt her ever again. He was there and would guard her, and eventually, the storm of tears ended. Exhausted and emotionally drained, she drifted off to sleep in his arms.
Seth stared down at her tear-dampened face and felt something settle inside him. The trust she’d given him would be returned tenfold. He’d never let her regret her decision to open up to him.
Someday he’d mete out justice for what Finley had done to Abby and her family.
He lifted his precious bundle and moved to the stairs, wishing he dared put her in his bedroom. He knew better than that. He hadn’t earned her complete trust yet.
He would.
So he carried her to the spare bedroom and placed her on the bed, removing her shoes and covering her with the blinding-white duvet.
It didn’t suit her, the pure whites and icy blues of his house. Already he missed the warmth of her home.
He placed a soft kiss on her forehead and left her to her healing sleep.
Seth picked up the phone and dialed Gabriel once more. Maybe the head of the Nephilim would have some more information on how Douglas Finley was connected to the Shemyaza. If there was something there, maybe Dante could find it, or Damien.
Hell, if he had to, he’d call in all of his brothers and all hell would break loose.
Literally.
Chapter Three
Abby woke up confused and disoriented. The white room was not the cheerful gold of her bedroom. The bed linens were all white, too, as were the few pieces of furniture in the room. The curtains were a shade of blue so pale, they were almost white. It was so bright, she wanted to dig out her sunglasses.
All for You Page 5