Flashing a rare, boyish grin, he shrugged. “You know how it is. I just got sick of it in my eyes. Needed a change.” He bobbed his head so the dreads bounced. “What do you think?”
Laughing at the twinkle in his clear green eyes, she had to admit he looked good. Make that hot. She’d never had a clear view of his face before. Dreads weren’t usually her thing, but they gave him an exotic air, something wild, pagan… something other than the good-natured street person she’d known these past few months. The tiny silver hoop earring sent a shiver down her spine. Yum! Letting her eyes drift over his high cheekbones and straight nose, she got lost for a minute. Why hadn’t she noticed how fine he was before today?
His laughter drifted off, the leaf green of his eyes turning mossy with male intuition. He licked his lips, and she watched the tip of his tongue against his full lower lip, wondering for just a split second how it might feel stroking her mouth.
“Are you checking me out?” He moved closer, voice dropping to an amused purr. Taking her hand, he stroked her palm with the pad of his thumb. He broke into a smug grin when she jerked her hand away.
Omigod! What was she thinking? This was no time to be getting hot and bothered by anyone--let alone one of the only friends she had in the city! Desperate to leave with some dignity, she forced an expression of disdain and sniffed, “I was thinking about something. Not you.”
Lame. So lame!
Raine continued to grin and nodded with mock seriousness. “Sure. Of course. Not me. Got it. Well, I have to get back to work, or I won’t eat tonight. Have fun at the library!”
Before she could escape, he caught her hand, kissing it softly, letting the heat of his mouth linger against her knuckles. “Think about me later, okay?”
Was it possible to die from embarrassment? With face on fire, she bolted down the sidewalk, weaving in and out of business suits and cellphones. She had no smooth whatsoever! She’d never be able to talk to Raine again. Ever. That was the only solution. God, he probably thought she was such a moron. Mentally smacking herself in the forehead, she skipped up the steps to the impressive doors of the most fabulous place on earth--the New York Public Library.
Closing her eyes just inside the doors, she inhaled with sheer joy. The smell of it! Furniture polish, leather, paper… Mmmm. When she died, she wanted to be buried right here. Or if that wasn’t doable, maybe she’d just haunt it. If she had a home away from home, this would be it. Since her crappy apartment sucked ass and wouldn’t be considered a home by any stretch of the imagination, she’d just call this place ‘home’. It was Heaven! She moved to the side of the foyer and thought about her mission. Where to start today?
“There’s my sweet girl!” The scratchy greeting came from a frail old gentleman named Arthur Annison. Standing barely a hair taller than the water fountain on which he leaned, he was both ancient and absolutely adorable. Despite the warm summer weather, he was dressed in the only clothes he seemed to own: grey wool pants and crisp white shirt. Today he had a soft blue sweatshirt on top. Frayed at the cuffs and stretched out, it had seen better days.
He’d been coming here on Thursdays for more years than she could remember. The sweet old guy was the reason she made a point of spending Thursday afternoons here. He’d taken her under his wing when she was broken and lost. No questions asked. He just listened to the words she couldn’t say out loud. He’d simply sat with her, a steady presence when she’d needed one. That day, ten years ago, was the best day of her life. She wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him.
Leaning down to place a peck on his papery forehead, she smiled into his murky brown eyes, wondering if he could still see her clearly. His eyes were cloudier than ever. “Handsome flirt! Are you stalking me again?”
The tired old joke sent him into wheezes of laughter. “Only you, my sweet girl, only you.”
“Oh, really? You say that to all the pretty ladies, don’t you?”
Supporting him by the elbow, she guided him down the polished corridor to their favorite reading spot. After helping him get comfortable with his favorite selection of newspapers, she caught him up on the excitement of her week--he always thought she lived on the edge. Sure she did. She worked at the flower shop and trudged up three flights of steps to a shitty flat. Yep, her life was hot damn exciting! It didn’t matter though. He never got tired of hearing her silly stories of lovesick customers and crazy street people.
Chuckling at her description of the dread-covered Raine, Arthur broke into a coughing fit that left him breathless. She patted him on the back, frowning at the phlegmy sounds coming from her old friend.
“Are you all right, Arthur? You don’t sound so good.” Oh, please don’t be sick!
He wiped his nose with a shaky hand and coughed again. “I’m fine, worrywart. Don’t you fret about me. Old men cough up a lung now and again. It’s what we do.” Smiling broadly to show off bright white dentures, he patted her arm, shooing her concerns away. “Leave me be for a bit. I have reading to do and you need to get to the computers before they’re all taken up. I’ll be right here when you’re done. Then I’m going to get you a taxi home.” His tone was light, but something in his eyes hurt her heart. He looked away as he promised to wait.
Acting on impulse, she reached out and hugged him. As usual, he smelled of Brut aftershave, but hadn’t actually shaved in days. His prickly cheek chafed her jaw as she declared, “I love you, you old cotton top. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know it. All the ladies do. You can’t help yourself. Now get moving!”
She headed to the computer lab with more than a little reluctance. But she didn’t have much choice. This was her only day off and she had to take advantage of it. No rest for the wicked and all that jazz. Three hours later, she leaned back, rubbing tired eyes. The sun had slanted deeply west, sending a misleading darkness over the building. It wasn’t totally dark outside yet, but she needed to get moving. She had a long walk home and didn’t want to be caught outside her building in the blackness.
As she turned into the main reading room, she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Arthur napping at the table. With one arm cushioning his cheek, he dozed on top of his papers. His bent up gold reading glasses lay off to the side near the open fingers of his sprawled hand. Poor old guy, she’d left him waiting longer than usual today. He usually conked out around 5:00. It was past 6:00 already. Her heart swelled as she noticed the serene smile curving his dry lips. He’d had a good day. She was thankful for that. He deserved good days.
He looked so comfortable, she hated to wake him, but he’d need to get home too. Through some unspoken agreement, they followed the same comfortable routine every week. After she was done in the lab, she hailed him a taxi and saw him off before she headed home. It was a small act of kindness that she was compelled to do. As far as she knew, he had no one else to do for him, but had enough money to remain self-sufficient in his old age. Every week he tried to get her a taxi, to do something nice for her. Every week she turned him down--gently but firmly. She didn’t want him to spend his money on her. She was young. She could walk home. It wouldn’t kill her.
“Arthur.” She shook his shoulder gently and froze. No! “Oh, no, Arthur!”
Dropping to her knees beside him, she took his wrist to check his pulse, but she knew it was too late. He was gone. Just like that. Oh, Arthur. No. You can’t leave me yet. I’m not ready to live without you! With shaking fingers, she gently smoothed a wayward strand of hair from his eyes. Damn.
So now what? She swallowed a howl of grief as the ambulance pulled away from the steps. No lights, no sirens, no fanfare at all… just a slow merge into traffic carrying her friend away forever. She clenched her fists to keep from breaking down and bawling all over the sidewalk. What was she supposed to do now? She’d had Arthur’s company for as long as she’d lived here. He’d befriended her, cared about her. He helped her put the pain and anger into perspective. Her chest hurt. Her heart hurt. She just wanted
to curl up and cry. He wouldn’t want her to weep for him; she knew that. He’d say it was his time to go… he’d say he was glad to go in his sleep… he’d say she had to be strong and live for him now. But how could she? He was all she had here. And now he was gone.
“I’ll miss you, you old flirt,” she whispered, voice breaking into a sob. Sinking to a step, she buried her face in her hands and quietly lost it.
Standing against one of the massive columns behind the steps, Dec watched Rori, feeling her heartache like a kick in the gut. Who was that old man? Not her father… he’d done a background check already. Her birth certificate didn’t have anyone listed as her father. He looked way too old to be her father anyhow. Grandfather? No. He didn’t think she had any living male relatives. What had he missed?
He’d been dropping in and out of her life since Raphael told him to watch her. Nothing exciting had popped up on his radar, so he hadn’t gone to 24-hour surveillance. If things went south in Rori’s world, he’d have to drag the rest of the team in. Sean and Killian were both busy on other projects, but they’d be freed up to help him with surveillance.
This morning he was intrigued when he noticed her heading towards the library so he traveled ahead to park his butt at a good vantage point inside. He’d wondered about the old man, but Rori had glowed like a candle when she’d seen him in the entrance way. Obviously he was important to her. What had he missed though? He’d left for a couple of hours to grab some grub and when he came back, the ambulance was pulling away. Always a sucker for tears, he stepped forward, intending to go comfort his charge. Probably she’d look at him like he was crazy. He’d worry about explanations later.
His hero intentions screeched to a halt as some dude in dreads got to her first. He eased himself down to the step and gently draped an arm around her shaking shoulders. She jumped as soon as he touched her, but the man said something against her ear and tucked her into his chest. Dec’s own chest tightened with some emotion he didn’t want to name when Rori wrapped her arms around his waist and sobbed. Dread Head rubbed her back in that way that guys did when a woman was crying in their arms. He ground his teeth together. That was his job! Catching himself growling out loud, he slammed the lid on his emotions. What the hell was the matter with him? Rori was clearly devastated, and he was feeling punchy because some other guy was helping her out. He should be thanking him. He should be feeling relieved that he didn’t have to get too close to her.
Along those lines… yeah, he should bolt. There was no good reason to keep hanging around here. He was hiding behind a column for crying out loud. He looked like an idiot. Obviously, this guy knew Rori and would probably make sure she got home safely. See? Definitely no reason to stay.
But it was dark. They’d probably be walking back to her place. It was pretty far from here. Did he mention it was dark? Surely it would be okay, necessary even, for him to make sure they got home in one piece? Really, you just didn’t know what could happen to a couple walking in her part of town.
Thankful for his arms around her, Rori curled against the warmth of Raine’s chest. She needed comfort right now, and he was offering. Oh, Arthur, I’m going to miss you more than you could know. She pictured his teasing smile and laughing brown eyes. That’s all she would have now… memories of the sweet old man who’d brightened her life. The thought triggered another bout of sobbing that had Raine pulling her closer, murmuring against the top of her head. Despite her sadness, she eventually ran out of steam. As the tears slowed to a trickle, she became more and more aware of Raine… the heat of his body, the scent of his skin, the vibration of his heartbeat. Funny how something so natural just a few minutes ago, now seemed awkward. She dabbed at her running nose and stinging eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, hoping he wouldn’t notice the smudges of mascara and snot she left behind.
Putting some space between their chests, she cleared her throat and said, “Thanks, Raine. I… I don’t know what to say.”
He kissed her tenderly on the forehead before resting his against hers. “It’s okay. This is what friends do.” He thumbed a fresh tear from the corner of her eye, whispering, “I’ve got you. Just breathe.”
Out of tears, but still not ready to face the world, she clung until the slicing pain of grief was gone. His arms promised protection; they promised sanctuary. As he rubbed random circles over her back, she realized she could breathe again. She could handle this curveball. His quiet strength reminded her that she had her own. She just needed to draw from it. The hectic world around them disappeared for too short a sliver of time. The blaring of a car alarm startled her out of the numb daze she’d fallen into. Coming back to full awareness, she realized her face was pressed intimately against the curve of Raine’s neck. Snuggled up on the steps of the library? Crazy. And even more crazy? She liked the way it felt. When she woke up today, she had no idea she’d lose her dearest friend. Had she somehow gained another?
How on earth did this happen?
“I should probably get going. It’s late, and I have to get up for work tomorrow.”
He tugged her to her feet, steadying her by the elbows. “Do you want me to get you a cab?”
That would be awesome if she had money to pay for one, which she didn’t. “No thanks. I’ll walk.”
“Okay, sounds good. I can use the exercise.”
Too good to be true. “Seriously? You’re walking me home?”
Raine hefted a duffel full of merchandise and replied, “Yes, ma’am. Let’s go. I’m starving. Let’s grab pizza on the way.” He jingled a pocketful of change. “My treat.”
The thin sliver of moon marched over the horizon and vanished for another night. Even his favorite lunar view didn’t lift his funky mood. Dec bounced on the balls of his feet, hugging the disgusting rat-filled shadows--again. Finally! The light in her bedroom window winked out after what seemed like hours. He scowled up at the broken fire escape, jaw set, fingers tapping his thigh. He should go up there. Something smelled off about this entire day. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment things had gone from normal to weird. It could’ve been a number of things: The death of the old guy; Dread Head riding to the rescue in orange flip-flops, or maybe it was his gut clenching with jealousy.
That whole jealousy garbage should’ve sent him screaming after some mouthy demons so he could slice and dice his negative feelings away. He knew better than to show personal interest in his charges. But instead of going demon hunting with Sean, he was steaming in the friggin’ stench of the city, staring up at her broken window. He’d followed them back here, kept a respectful distance, waited until homeboy said goodnight and made sure he left. No kiss goodnight.
He didn’t want to dwell on how relieved he was… nope, he wasn’t even thinking about it. He was behaving himself. He was most definitely not getting personally involved with Rori. She was his charge; he was her protector. End of story. He was a good Primani. A smile snuck out, and he let it go. Hell, he was a good Primani. He’d destroyed as many demons and killers as any other of his brothers. He was one of the best demolitions guys they had, too. He was awesome at his job. But when it came to his off time… well, he just liked humans more than he should. They were fun.
He flipped a glance at his cell and yawned. Time to go. Giving the street one last eyeball for trouble, he got ready to travel. Screw walking home. It was too hot.
A shrill cry froze him in mid-transition.
“Dec! You’ve got to slow down, man. I can’t understand you,” Sean exclaimed. “Look, I’m pulling into the penthouse. Just meet me here.”
He ground his molars together, shifting his weight with impatience. “Dude, I am not moving from this spot. Park and travel. You know where I am.” With that, he shoved the phone back into his pocket and resumed his Killian-like pose--arms crossed in front, scowl in place, and mouth clamped in an unforgiving line. Staring a hole through the walls wasn’t giving him any satisfaction. He wanted to get back inside her place.
“You look inte
nse. What’s got you in a knot?” With eyes burning on low flame, Sean blinked a couple of time to clear the residual energy. Looking human again, he mimicked Dec’s Killian pose.
One dimple popped out, but he refused to laugh, though he did dial back the intensity a hair. “It’s not funny. I barely got there in time. It could’ve been bad.”
“Spill it. What happened?”
“Long story. Short version is I wanted to check up on her. She had a bad day, so I was hanging out, keeping an eye on things.”
He stopped and cocked his head, listening. People were moving about, waking up for work. The sun was creeping into the city. They’d have company soon. Turning back to glare at the apartment some more, he seethed, “By the time I got to her room, he had her on her back, but she was sound asleep! He took one look at me and shimmered out. Bastard!”
Sean looked up at the apartment and murmured, “Well, that’s not a good sign. Who is she? What would a demon want with her?”
He studied the apartment before answering. What did the demon want with her? That’s the question of the day. Not the usual vic. She wasn’t rich, had no influence in politics or business, and had no access to holy artifacts. He’d done a thorough background check on her. If she had occult ties somewhere in her family tree, it was a carefully buried secret. As far as he could tell, she was the complete opposite of the usual possession victims. She was dirt poor without family money. She didn’t have any Indiana Jones-esque artifacts… no grimoires… no psychic powers... no powers at all. Hold up. He’d sensed something when she was dying. There was a connection between them, a spark of awareness. Did she have some kind of psychic abilities? Did she know?
“I know that look. She’s got powers, doesn’t she?” Sean barked a laugh that startled a handful of pigeons milling around the sidewalk. As the birds exploded into flight, they both ducked out of the line of fire.
Broken Souls (Primani Book 4) Page 6