Owen blew his nose. His allergies plagued the poor kid. “Here.” He pushed the bowl toward him. Owen opened the carton of milk and poured the white liquid over his cereal.
Lucca did the same and sat down across from Owen. He opened his newspaper, handing Owen the comic section for his reading material. The ritual suited Lucca fine, only today Owen seemed to have developed a bad case of I-can’t-sit-still syndrome, squirming in his seat as if hot needles were poking into him.
Lucca lowered the newspaper and narrowed his eyes at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He rubbed his back against his chair.
“Then what’s with the good impression you’re giving me of a bear with an itch?”
“Huh?” Owen looked at him.
Lucca shook his head and folded his paper. “What’s wrong with your back?”
“I think something bit me. I can’t stop scratching.”
“You’re driving me crazy. Come here.” He waved him over. “Let’s have a look.”
Owen slid his chair back and walked over to him. He lifted his shirt for Lucca, exposing his skin.
Lucca’s brows drew together not believing what he saw there. His fingers brushed over the tiny boney protrusion poking through the tender flesh. His breath whooshed out of him as if he’d been suckered punched. This couldn’t be happening. This had to be an illusion.
“What is it?” Owen asked, drawing Lucca’s attention.
“Nothing. Just like you said. Looks like a bug bite. It will feel better soon.” He pulled down Owen’s shirt. “Try not to irritate it.”
Owen turned to look at him, his eyes large and wide, trusting him to know the answers. He did know the answers, but he didn’t like them.
He went over what Juliet had told him about Owen. The boy’s mother died in childbirth and the father went missing soon after—a typical Fallen Angel and human relationship. The purebred Angels were definite flight risks—in every way. Very few humans lived through the birthing process of delivering a half angel, but Owen was only a child. Purebred Angels hadn’t take human mates since Enoch’s time and the Nephilim were only now allowed to seek human mates.
“Do you know where your father is, Owen?” Owen was Nephilim. The runny nose and the itchy protrusions were the early signs of the Awakening. Owen needed guidance, someone to show him how to control the shifts.
The boy shook his head. “It’s been a while. He’s real big like you.” He lifted his arm, staring at his skinny bicep. “Do you think I’ll grow up to be big?” His eyes focused on Lucca again with hopeful intensity. “As big as you maybe?”
A few minutes ago, he would have said no. Owen’s scrawny limbs didn’t look like much now, but after his Awakening, he’d fill out. “Yes, if you finish your breakfast.”
Owen’s mouth slipped into a wide grin. “Oh, yeah.” He scrambled back to his seat and began shoveling large spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth as if this meal would be the deciding factor for his growth spurt.
Rap-tap-tap-tap.
The knock at the door was followed by Juliet’s voice. “Hi, is Owen here?”
“Kitchen,” he yelled back.
She walked into the room, looking like a ray of sunshine with her reddish strands brushed back in a ponytail, revealing her fine bone structure and big green eyes. He wanted to ask her right then about Owen, but bit his tongue. This was a delicate situation, one he didn’t really know what he wanted to do with even if Juliet proved forthcoming.
Her gaze wavered to his for a beat of a second before she looked away again, her mouth pressing into a fine line.
He frowned at her odd behavior. “Did you want to catch a bite to eat after practice tonight?” he asked, gauging her answer.
She tucked an imaginary hair behind her ear, still not meeting his gaze. Her hand touched the top of Owen’s head, caressing his hair.
Was she angry with him? Something happened, something changed between them, and he didn’t know what. “Juliet, look at me?”
She met his gaze, her eyes sparking with anger. “Where were you last night?”
Where was he? Then it dawned on him what had her perturbed. He told her they needed to talk, but finding the time proved difficult. He planned on meeting her back here last night, but the breaking and entering took precedence. By the time he arrived home, her lights were off and he didn’t want to wake her. He rested his elbows on the table, his hands folded with his index finger forming a tent as he tapped his chin. “About last night.”
Her emerald colored eyes turned a shade darker as she narrowed them at him, already knowing his words would be a lie. Well, she had him there. “Something came up. I was… detained.”
“Is that so? You tell me you need to tell me something about the mur… the cases and you go MIA.”
It wasn’t just anger spurring her on. Her voice trembled and her hands shook. She didn’t trust him and he couldn’t blame her. What did she really know about him? Only what he revealed and that wasn’t much. He glanced at Owen. Just about as much as he knew about her obviously.
“Owen, Mrs. Levene is waiting outside to take you to school,” Juliet told her nephew, not taking her eyes off of Lucca.
“Cool. Dylan has the new comic book by Gideon Sharpe and he’s going to let me see it.”
Lucca raised a brow. Gideon was sure making his way in the human realm with his comic book series. Seemed a little violent for pre-teens but it wasn’t his call. Hell, at nine he was already wielding a sword.
Owen took one more bite of his cereal before pushing back his seat. “See you tomorrow, Lucca.”
“Sure. You know where I am.” The boy left, leaving Juliet standing there like she wanted to say more.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for Owen to come over here anymore,” she made the announcement in a cool tone.
He sat back in his seat, keeping his eyes on her. “Why?”
She obviously didn’t expect him to question her. She straightened her back. Body language said more than words with Juliet. Her armor was in place. “A young boy eating breakfast with a single man…” she let the rest die away. The insinuation obviously left a nasty taste in her mouth. Good, they both knew it was uncalled for.
“Well, I gotta go.” She turned to leave, but he was on his feet, his hand whipping out to stop her. He gripped her arm and she whirled on him with her gun pointed at his midsection.
He backed away, lifting his hand in mock surrender. His eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch and his lips twitched. She looked way too sexy with the determined look lining her features and the Glock ready to do him in. He shook his head. God, he was definitely losing it. She wanted to kill him and he was turned on. “Are you going to pull the trigger?”
“Give me a reason to and you’ll find out.”
Tiger Lilly decided at that moment to jump off the table and rub against his calf, purring with contentment. At least someone in the room still liked him.
Juliet’s fear of him was genuine, but it only proved to confuse him. Then the realizations crashed down on him as if he’d been hit with a tidal wave.
Barachiel was searching for two humans who had time traveled. Or was Barachiel simply interested in Owen.
For several surprised seconds, he stared at Juliet as it all became clear like a glimmering light beneath the lifting fog. Good Lord, he felt foolish. Barachiel was looking for Juliet and Owen because Owen’s father wasn’t a half angel. He was a damned Archangel.
Juliet kept the gun aimed at him. “What are you?” Her demand to know the truth kept him still. He had no wish for her to fill him with bullets before he could explain.
“I’m one of the Watchers … like Zaiden.” She didn’t flinch, making him believe she already suspected that, but wanted to hear it from him. “It’s what I wanted to talk you about. I was going to tell—”
“Show me your wings,” she interrupted, doubt ringing from her words. Her green eyes leveled with his—waiting. “I can always sense the Nephil
im, but not you.”
He’d like nothing more than to reveal his true self, which disturbed him immensely. The Watchers weren’t allowed to reveal their true self to humans unless… He refused to go there. He could easily give into the whisper of temptation and be glad he did, but to even conceive Juliet was his soul mate proved more than he could handle right now. “That’s an intimate request, Juliet.” His voice took on a husky quality all its own. “As much as I would like to share, I cannot comply.”
Her finger twitched. She may not want to shoot him, but she would if it meant keeping Owen safe and right now she didn’t trust him. He didn’t blame her. Survival ruled her world for so long, seeing it any other way would require trust, and he had yet to earn hers.
He held up his hands. “If you will allow me, I’ll show you why I cannot do as you ask.” Keeping his movements smooth so not to startle her, he started to shrug out of his T-shirt.
Her eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”
He paused and met her gaze. “This is not a come on. If I meant to bed you, you would know and would not have to ask my intentions.
She snorted in a very unladylike fashion, but he found it painfully erotic with her gaze wavering over him like a caress.
“I need to show you my back. With your permission, of course.”
Finally, she gave him a curt nod. “Go on.” She waved the gun at him.
He pulled his shirt up and shrugged his arms out of it. He met her gaze, locking onto those earthy green pools of warmth. He turned, giving her full view of his back, and his shame. Her intake of breath was like a gasp. His eyes closed as if shutting out the world would save him from the humiliation.
“So beautiful.”
He looked over his shoulder to her, his gaze riveting to her in confusion. She didn’t look upon him with disgust. Her eyes shone bright, brimming with admiration.
She holstered her gun and took the steps separating them. Her hand slid over the tattooed wings, her touch like an erotic sweep, sending his senses into overdrive. He shuddered, and her hand hovered over his skin like a tease. She met his eyes then.
“Am I hurting you?”
He shook his head and swallowed. “Just the opposite. The Nephilim’s wings are very sensitive, even bound it would seem.” He was amazed over the fact. “Don’t stop.” Had he spoken the words aloud? It appeared he had. Her fingers slid over his skin, continuing their torturous appraisal, not missing a curve or a line marking the design blazed from his shoulder to the lower part of his back.
“I can feel the heat radiating from you and…” she took a deep inhaling breath. “Your scent is like the wind and a spice of some sort. It’s like nothing I’ve ever smelled before.” She met his gaze, her lids heavy, her arousal potent enough to make him sway. “I like it,” she told him.
Dear Lord, he wanted her. He wanted to taste her, caress every inch of her body. His hand snaked out as he turned, pulling her against his chest. She let out a surprise yelp, but didn’t struggle to be free. She settled into his embrace, a perfect fit.
She lifted her chin, her gaze latching onto his with fierce determination. “Kiss me,” she demanded.
His lips twitched. She was a demanding female, but he was in no mood to argue when he craved what she wanted, too. His lips covered hers, taking her under, or was it her enchanting him? It didn’t matter. He wanted her, all of her. He backed her up against the wall, capturing her with his hardened body. He’d wrap his wings around her if he could. Her hand gripped his biceps, pulling him closer as if their clothing proved too much of a barrier. The thought should have sent warning signals to stop what he was doing, but he ignored them. His hands slid under her T-shirt, pulling the garment over her head. The lacy bra came off next, leaving her breast bare, nipples taut and begging for his touch.
Before he could indulge, her hands went to the waistband of his jeans, her fingers flipping the button loose and tugging on the zipper to set him free. Two could play this game. He helped her to lose the gun, her slacks, and lacy panties, leaving her smooth skin bare to his gaze. His body was on fire—hot, hard, and ready, but he didn’t want to ravish her like an animal. He wanted to savor their time together, relish in her softness, and take her to heights unimaginable.
She reached for him, drawing him closer, her hand encasing his flesh with slow torturous strokes. “Dear Lord.” He took her mouth, his tongue mating with hers as he swept her off her feet, her arms going around his neck as he carried her to the bedroom.
They tumbled together onto the bed, but she used her weight to move on top of him. Everywhere their body touched he felt lightning crack just below the skin, inflaming his need to have her. Mint and rosemary encased him, the scent of sunshine warming him, searing a path to his heart. He was afraid his strength would overpower her and he’d harm her, but her aggressive moves to dominate him pushed caution away until he could see nothing but what Juliet wanted him to do to her. His hands caressed every inch of her and hers did the same.
As aggressive as her caresses were, for some reason she would hesitate, pull back as if she doubted her moves until he took her forward again. He rolled her over on her back and straddled her, being careful to keep most of his weight off her so not to crush her. Her hands pulled him closer anyway. Her legs going around his waist as he thrust inside her. Her body went rigid beneath him as he tore through the barrier. He stilled in alarm. A cry left her lips before she stifled it by pressing them together.
He looked down at her, his eyes searching hers as if he could find the answers there. “Why?” His hoarse whisper barely made it past his lips. His hand brushed back her sun-kissed locks. She’d never lain with a male. He felt humbled before her.
“Why?” she repeated the question. “Why haven’t I had sex? Why didn’t I tell you I was a virgin? Why what exactly?” Her green eyes pooled with tears he didn’t understand.
He leaned down and kissed her softly. “Why me?” his voice sounded as tortured as he felt. “I’m not worthy of such a gift,” he breathed.
“Oh, Lucca.” Her hands gripped his face between her hands, making him look at her. “You really believe that, don’t you?” He tried to turn away, but she wouldn’t let him. “You are worthy. I chose you because I love you.” Her eyes widened as if she hadn’t expected to say that, but then her lips curved. “I do. I love you.”
His fangs extended and he growled in response, cradling her against him, he buried his face in her hair. No one had ever said those words to him. Ever.
“Lucca?” her breath tickled near his ear. “Are you okay?”
No. Yes. He didn’t know. He looked at her again. “Am I okay, she asks?” He leaned down and kissed her nose. Her eyes fluttered closed and he kissed her eyelids before his lips took her mouth. Her hips moved beneath him, urging him to complete what they started. Shaking with desire, he met her movements. Her hands raked through his hair as he took her. Energy flowed between them, making his body ache for release, the ease he could find only with her. He wanted to bite her, mark her. His fangs grazed her tender skin near her breast.
His wings fluttered against his skin as they tried to break the bounds. He tried to rein in his instinct, but her scent proved to overpower his will and his fangs sunk into her flesh—sweet and powerful as their lovemaking. She groaned in pleasure, her fingers threading through his hair and drawing him closer, urging him on until shudders racked both their bodies, tumbling them over the last edge of pleasure.
He rolled off of her and drew her close as they waited for their breathing to slow to normal.
What had he done? He marked her, but he couldn’t complete the bonding. His wings ached to wrap around her, brush against her skin and finish what they began. His fangs lengthened painfully in response of where his thoughts had taken him. He’d stepped over the line. He should have stopped this from happening. His skin felt raw and singed as if he’d been bound for a second time, his wings burning his flesh.
He hadn’t moved away from her, but
she sensed his mental retreat anyway. Juliet scooted away and sat up, her long legs sweeping over the side of the bed. She hurried out of the bedroom as if the room had suddenly burst into flames and she needed to escape.
He went after her. She was shoving her clothes on. Panties first then she retrieved her bra. “What are you doing?”
“This shouldn’t have happened.” She shook her head, voicing his thoughts. Only when she said them, it pissed him off.
“But it did happen.” What happened to the woman who confessed her love to him only moments before?
She paused, meeting his gaze. “We can’t be together, Lucca. I’m sorry. It’s not safe for you.”
He went to her, pulling her against him. She worried about keeping him safe. It should be the other way around. “I can help you.” How, he didn’t know exactly, but he couldn’t let her go. Not now.
“You don’t understand.”
“I know Owen isn’t human,” he blurted out. What was he doing? He should let her walk out the door and disappear. He knew that’s what she would do if he let go of her. She’d pack up and leave. She’d run. Maybe it would be for the best for both of them. She had Archangels after her and he had… Well, everyone wanted a piece of him and he didn’t want her in the crossfire.
She stiffened in his arms, withdrawing from him as if he were the enemy.
“It’s okay,” he told her.
She slipped from his embrace practically sprinting for the front door, not caring she wasn’t completely dressed, but his words brought her back.
“Is Raziel Owen’s father?”
She whirled around, her green-eyed gaze locking onto him. “Why would you ask me that?”
He closed his eyes in a deliberate blink. It was true then. “I wasn’t sure until now. What century are you from, Juliet?”
Lucca Page 20