Lucca

by Karen Michelle Nutt

  “I knew this was a bad idea,” Lucca grumbled under his breath. “She’s not powerful enough.”

  Lana glared at him as she stood ramrod straight, her chin raising a fraction of an inch. Lucca managed not to smile. All witches were the same. They didn’t like to be told they were lacking in the abracadabra department.

  “Don’t be judging me so quick, big guy?” Her gaze traveled over him and she frowned. “Have we met before?”

  In another dimension of time—yes, they had. He crashed her Halloween party in hopes of killing Eli. If the elders hadn’t pulled Eli back to the Grigori Castle in the Otherworldly realm when they did, his plan would have been a success. Eli would have bled out from the knife wound he inflicted. Who would have thought he’d one day be pleased Eli didn’t succumb to his injuries.

  However, in this plane of existence, today would be Lana and his first meeting. He’d heard de je vu occurred when the other dimensions overlapped, but he never met a human who experienced it until now, but there was no time to explain to Lana the effects of time traveling between dimensions. “No, we haven’t met before. Can you help us or not?”

  “I’ve never attempted to trap an Archangel. And I never thought of them as being…” Her gaze found Blaize’s. “…nasty buggers.” She looked at Lucca again. “Why would you need to trap one anyway?”

  “We don’t have time for twenty questions,” Lucca growled. “Can you help us or not?”

  “You make time if you want my help,” Lana snapped back, taking Lucca by surprise.

  “Feisty witch,” he murmured under his breath and he took a deep breath determined to win the female over. “The Archangel is tracking two humans for extermination.” He paused for dramatic effect, but Lana didn’t bat an eye.

  “Go on.” She waived her hand in front of her as if his tale of doom already bored her. Funny, he would have thought she would want more details.

  “We need to find a way to stop him.” Lucca folded his arms against his chest as he waited for Lana to digest what he threw at her.

  Lana moved behind the counter. Her gaze landing first on Blaize and then to him with anger so intense he thought surely she could spit fire from her eyes. “I won’t help you murder anyone.”

  “You won’t help us murder anyone.” Lucca sputtered. “Listen, witch, The Archangel in question is playing for keeps. We either stop him or he’ll take out the humans in one blast of blue flames. How would you suppose we stop him? Ask him nicely to go away?”

  Blaize approached the counter with his dazzling performance-smile in place. “What my boy means is—”

  “I’m not your boy,” Lucca cut in.

  Blaize’s eyelids fluttered with impatience. He inhaled deeply before he faced Lana again. “We want to protect the humans. We don’t stand a chance against Archangel fire. We just want to even out the odds so we can negotiate.”

  Lana looked at Lucca with a long assessing gaze before turning her attention back to Blaize. “Why didn’t all tall and brooding just say so then?”

  Lucca snorted in disbelief.

  Blaize’s lips spread into a full grin as he lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “His communication skills aren’t the best.”

  “Will you help us?” Ryden moved closer to the counter, her eyes beseeching her cousin to comply.

  Lana nodded. “I’ve seen a binding spell before, but I’ll have to search for it. I never thought Archangels were real until recently.”

  “Just like how most people don’t believe witches are real either,” Lucca smirked, winning him another dagger-like glare.

  Lana turned to go into the back room, but Blaize gripped her arm. When the witch glared at him, he dropped his hand, raising his palms in mock surrender. “I just wanted to remind you to make sure the spell doesn’t bind Darklins.”

  She frowned. “A Darklin?”

  “Half demon and half angel,” Lucca piped up. “One of the Dark Angels who sided with the Fallen.” This was a lot of information dumped on the witch, but she needed to be brought up to speed. She could no longer dwell in the land of ignorance when they needed her.

  “Hmm…” she looked Blaize over, obviously the fact that Blaize didn’t possess one drop of human blood didn’t faze her at all as being a bad thing. Matter of fact, she looked overly pleased. “Why don’t you help me look through the books?”

  “It would be my pleasure.” Blaize bowed. “Lead the way, my lady.”

  Ryden walked over to Lucca as the two disappeared in the back, her brows creased with worry. “You’re frowning. Do you think Lana’s safe with him?”

  He smoothed his features. “I thought you adored Blaize. You have all his CDs,” his hand went to his chest and his voice took on a high pitch quality as he mocked her.

  She narrowed her gaze at him. “That was before I knew he wasn’t…”

  “Human,” he finished for her. “Eli isn’t human either or did you forget?”

  “He’s half human.”

  “He’s Nephilim. We may have human attributes, but let me assure you the angel blood is stronger.” He glanced at her arm. “How’s the wound healing?”

  Her hand swept up to the injured limb. “Fine.”

  “As in healed—completely?”

  She nodded.

  “Interesting. If you don’t mind me asking, what do the elders think?”

  She sighed. “They are at a loss. As far as anyone knows, Eli and I are the only known soul mates. It could mean our… uh… mating is like the legend. You know the tale of an angel and human falling in love.”

  “Enlighten me.” He didn’t know it. He never cared to, but it seemed in the last week his interests had suddenly changed.

  “A brush of an angel’s wing is a blessing, a binding of their love. Her life will be his and his will be hers, forevermore.”

  “A fairytale,” he scoffed with a wave of his hand. He was looking for something more concrete.

  “Is it?” She tilted her head as she eyed him, her gaze making him uncomfortable. “Do you believe Juliet is your soul mate?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” He ran his hand through his hair, flipping the long strands away from his face. He wasn’t ready to announce he found his soul mate. Besides, their relationship couldn’t be. His wings bit into his back as if to mock him and call him a liar.

  “Do you recognize her scent?” Ryden persisted. “Are you drawn to her for no other reason than to be near her?”

  He stepped away from her as if her words were a curse. “Stop.”

  “Stop?” She chuckled. “Really, Lucca, are you so afraid you might be in love with a human?”

  Hell yes. He swallowed the lump in his throat that threatened to choke off his oxygen supply. “Even if I were in love with Juliet, and I’m not saying I am,” he hurried to explain.

  “Of course.” She agreed, but he knew she only said the words to placate him.

  “My wings are bound.”

  Her eyebrows drew together over her nose. “I’m not following you.”

  “Of course not. Very well, I shall spell it out for you. If your silly fairytale is the real deal, I cannot complete the binding. A brush of an angel’s wing is impossible in my case.” He lifted his brows for emphasis. Just speaking about Juliet, soul mates, and mating with her caused his wings to flutter against the binds holding them.

  “Oh.” Her finely shaped lips curved into a perfect ‘o’ as she spoke the word. Then they slipped into a smile. Her eyes lighting up like a neon sign. “You want to mate her, don’t you?”

  “Dear Lord, woman, must you be so blunt?” She was right. He wanted Juliet. He couldn’t think of not having her at his side.

  Lana walked back out front with Blaize close behind. “It’s going to be a while for us to go through the books.” Lana put the bottles she was holding on the front desk.

  “What’s all this,” Lucca moved forward.

  “You wanted a protection spell to ward away harm from the human’s you’re protecting.” Her
long slender fingers picked up the vial. “This is rosemary.”

  “Rosemary?” Lucca’s gaze riveted to hers. He knew the scent, the light earthy pine surrounding Juliet.

  “Yes.” Lana frowned. “Does the scent mean something to you?”

  “Raziel,” he said under his breath. When he noticed the others staring at him, he explained. “Juliet’s scent is rosemary, mint and…” he clamped his mouth shut when he caught a glimpse of Ryden’s grin.

  “And?” Lana coaxed.

  He shook his head. “Nothing, just rosemary. She may know about the oils to keep her safe.”

  “Or this Raziel you spoke of casted a spell already to ward off danger,” Lana offered. “Does the scent linger on both humans?”

  Lucca honestly didn’t know. Only Juliet’s scent drew him. No one else’s did. “I don’t go around sniffing little boys,” he said in a huff.

  “Oh, but Juliet struck your fancy,” Blaize teased. “Got close enough to inhale her aroma… Like testing a nice bottle of wine.”

  “Will you piss off,” Lucca snapped at him.

  Blaize held up his hands, but the bastard continued to grin.

  Lucca ignored him and concentrated on the bottles. “Tell me what I need to do.”

  She held up two talismans, cradling it in a cloth. “The spell of protection has been cast upon these already. It must be worn at all times and never taken off for the spell of protection to work.

  Lucca reached for the objects.

  “No.” Lana stopped him. “You must not touch them. You must hand it over to the person you wish to protect. You’ll weaken the spell otherwise.”

  “Wrap them up then.” Lucca nodded understanding the importance.

  She was ready to tell them about the oils when the bell chimed, indicating someone had entered the shop.

  “I thought you locked the door.” Lucca accused Blaize with a long leveled look.

  Blaize withdrew a dagger from the inside pocket of his leather jacket, the metal gleaming as the overhead light reflected off the surface. “I did.”

  Lucca removed a dagger of his own, the point sharp and menacing with its intent. He looked at the two women. “Stay here. Behind the desk.”

  Ryden joined Lana and they both crouched down behind the wooden counter. Fear shone in Ryden’s eyes, but not in Lana’s. Lucca would have questioned her lack of worry, but he didn’t have time. The scent of sulfur permeated the air, telling him the visitors weren’t human.

  Lucca and Blaize moved to the front of the store, slinking between the aisles. Lucca motioned for Blaize to go one way, while he circled around the other, hoping to corner their demonic friends.

  Blaize and Lucca rounded the aisle on the opposite ends, cornering two red-eyed Hashasheen demons, one female and one male. Both carried jagged-edged daggers as well as other lethal toys attached to their belts.

  “Can we help you?” Blaize asked as he used his dagger to pick the imaginary particles beneath his black painted fingernails. He lounged against the wall, crossing his boots over each other in a nonchalant manner.

  The demons eyed Blaize, thinking the odds of two against one looked pretty good.

  “Blaize, I think they want to fight,” Lucca said, drawing the demons’ attention to him. They backed into the shelf as they scrambled to keep Blaize and Lucca in their line of vision. The knickknacks on the shelf rattled on the glass foundation, threatening to topple over.

  “We don’t have a quarrel with you.” The female demon spoke up. Her hair was light brown, thick and wavy.

  Lucca’s gaze slid over the arsenal the two were packing. “Pardon me if I have a difficult time believing you.”

  The female snarled with a curse. “We’re allowed to go where we please and Enchanted Whispers carries the herbs I like.” She glanced at her partner, a warning of some sort.

  “Sorry, I don’t believe you,” Lucca said.

  The male demon’s lip curled and he withdrew his dagger.

  “No, Werdn,” the female warned, but her partner was beyond listening.

  He charged at Lucca.

  The female cursed and went after Blaize with an ear piercing screech of a beast ready to take down its prey.

  Blaize sidestepped with the agility of a contortionist, bending his body backwards and away from the slicing blade. The female flew forward, the momentum sending her headlong into the wall. Blaize went after her.

  Lucca knew Blaize could hold his own in a knife fight and concentrated on his opponent. The demon’s eyes glowed redder like flashing orbs of caution, but Lucca didn’t heed the warning signs. He lashed out with the dagger, hating the fact that the confines of the aisle kept him from maneuvering the way he’d like. Werdn charged, the dagger held for striking, but Lucca threw him off with a side blow, sending the demon crashing into the shelves full of books and tarot cards. The books on the top shelf rained down on the demon as if the items had a personal affront at being jolted from their resting spot.

  Lucca didn’t wait for him to recover and went after him, throwing a punch that sent the demon slamming into the bookcase again. The demon lashed out with the dagger with quicker reflexes than Lucca expected, the knife sliced through his shirt, breaking skin. Lucca didn’t have time to inspect the damage as he deflected another blow. Werdn kept after him, slashing with the dagger, his moves a blur of lunges and stabs.

  “You’re slow, Nephilim,” Werdn sneered.

  Didn’t Lucca know it? He was fighting with limited glamour and he could feel it in his limbs. The demon charged him, sending him flying backwards into the shelf full of breakables. Shards of glass embedded in his palms. He barely scrambled away before the demon lunged for him again.

  He ran around the corner, where the checkout counter stood. He halted his steps, his gaze riveting to Lana standing on the counter top with her arms outstretched and chanting words he couldn’t make out. Whatever spell she was casting, it caused the air in the room to plummet to freezing. His breath came out in a puff of white frost.

  He didn’t have time to yell for the fool woman to get down from her pedestal. The light-haired demon slammed into him again, causing him to lose his grip on his dagger. It flew out of reach, sliding across the floor and hitting the counter. Nothing seemed to sway Lana from her course. She chanted, conjuring up a windstorm in the middle of the store.

  Werdn landed on top of him. His putrid breath stank as if he sipped a sulfur martini before coming out to play. His serrated teeth bared as he hissed in triumphant glee. Werdn’s blade hung inches from Lucca’s face as he gripped the demon’s arm, struggling to hold back the final thrust.

  The wind hummed like a snowstorm, loud and deafening as it whirled around them.

  Werdn yowled in pain and his grip lessoned enough for Lucca to grab hold of the dagger. As he flipped the demon onto his back, he caught sight of Ryden holding his dagger, dripping with Werdn’s blood. She may be human, but the female fought like a preternatural.

  Lucca slammed his knee into Werdn’s chest, holding him down. His hand gripped Werdn’s dagger, pressing it at the demon’s throat. Finally, Werdn stilled.

  “Blaize?” Lucca called out.

  “Right here and one demon a black ooze.” He moved into Lucca’s line of sight. Blaize sported a fat lip, his hair stuck up on end, his heavy metal T-shirt was torn, but other than that he looked ready for another go around.

  Lana hadn’t stopped her chanting even though the fight had ceased.

  “What’s she doing,” Blaize shouted, nodding toward Lana.

  Lana focused her gaze on Lucca. “Move aside.”

  “If I move the dagger from his throat, he’ll bolt.”

  “No.” Lana shook her head. “I can contain him. I’m a little rusty, but I have control now. The wind will bind him.”

  Lucca hesitated, but then he felt Ryden’s hand on his shoulder. “Trust her.”

  He wasn’t in the habit of trusting anyone, but times were changing. He pushed away, coming to his feet. We
rdn flew to his feet, too, but his attempts to run were short lived. He froze like a statue, his arms slammed to his sides and his feet appeared cemented to the ground.

  Blaize whistled low in appreciation. “She’s one powerful witch.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “Are you like my guardian angel?” Owen stared at Gideon wide-eyed. They stood in Gideon’s living room. Gideon had just given the boy a tour of his place, which lasted about two minutes of showing him where the bathroom was located.

  “I suppose I am for today.”

  Owen nodded in acceptance, reminding Gideon how very young the boy was, an innocent left in his care.

  “The first time I met you, I didn’t realize you were Gideon Sharpe.”

  Gideon shoved his hands in his pocket as he recalled the Laundromat incident. He changed the subject. “I take it you read my novels.”

  “Heck yeah! Well… all but the last one. Auntie Jules hasn’t had time to take me to the comic book store yet.”

  “I can probably help you out there.” Gideon strode over to his art table where he kept a few extra novels. “Do you want me to autograph it?”

  “Oh boy, that would be cool.”

  Gideon’s lips curved. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride that his graphic novel was in demand. He reached for a pen.

  “Do you have wings?” Owen had walked over to him. “Can I see them?” Owen asked as he circled behind Gideon as if he could catch a glimpse of his wings.

  Gideon wondered if he should. It wouldn’t be against the rules. Owen was one of them after all, but did he really want to show off his one wing freakiness? “Maybe later.” He turned to face the boy. “What do you think of the hero of the story?” He held the graphic novel against his chest, pointing to the fallen angel with one feathered wing and the other ghostlike in appearance.

  “He’s cool. He kicks the bad guys butts.”

  Gideon couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yes, I suppose he does.”

  “I’m going to have wings, too. Lucca told me.”

  Gideon handed Owen the graphic novel. “You like Lucca, don’t you?”