by Tamela Miles
Elle was completely focused on the fight, coming to stand right in front of the demon beast. She dropped her bow, pulling her dagger. She barely glanced at Patrick, who was circling it cautiously. It was seriously wounded but not enough to end the fight. It lunged at Patrick, striking him in the chest with a huge fist. He stumbled back, unprepared for the attack. She quickly saw her opening, attacking the thing from behind with repeated deep stabs.
Patrick charged full force into its powerful legs, knocking it to its knees. It lashed out with flailing arms, screaming its rage. Elle stepped out of its reach, planning her next move. Her heart sank when it slowly began to stand. “This thing is wounded, but it’s still coming at us.”
Patrick grabbed Elle’s hand tightly. “This just might work. I’m not at full strength yet so I need some of yours,” Patrick said, breathing harshly. He placed his palm to hers, and a bright glow shone from their joined hands. He let go as his whole body exploded with light, the white flames engulfing him.
“Don’t get close to me,” he yelled, his eyes snapping shut. She watched, terror stricken for them both, as the flames leapt higher and coalesced into a giant being separate from Patrick. His entity leapt on the demon, trapping it with forceful energy. The beast began to glow with deep crimson rays as it dropped heavily back to its knees.
Patrick pinned the stunned demon by the shoulders as Elle grabbed its head, slicing her dagger blade deeply across the neck. She recoiled in disgust from its black scales and wild soulless eyes but continued sawing the blade until its head fell off the stem of its neck. Patrick smiled, pulling her to her feet. Hell’s fire consumed the demon, crumpling the body in on itself and incinerating it into a huge pile of dust.
Elle stood still for a long moment, not completely believing that the fight was over. She smiled, launching herself into Patrick’s arms, holding him tightly as he struggled to stand up straight. “We actually did it!”
He held her close to him. “I’m exhausted.” He sucked in huge gulps of air, trying to walk. “Come on, honey. Let’s check on those families down the street. I’m not trying to be pessimistic, but I’m almost sure they’re all dead. Thank God, we didn’t lose our lives in this battle, but I think they may have. “
Elle held Patrick up as he limped with her down to the darkness at the end of the block.
****
The fact that both families ended up as casualties in a holy war weighed heavily on Elle the next morning. Even worse, she and Patrick were saying their goodbyes and happy trails to each other. They had both spent a sleepless night, thrashing around in different beds. She wanted to believe that this parting of the ways impacted his heart as much as it did hers. She wanted so badly to confess her growing love for him, but her pride kept her mouth shut. No ties to anyone, remember…?
Patrick slung his duffel bag up on his shoulder, carrying his guitar case to the front door of the warehouse. Elle willed herself to stay right where she was, a few feet away. No kiss, no hugs, no drama. “Thank you again for…everything. You involved yourself in this fight in a way that I never imagined you would.”
His amused grin was back in place and he nodded. “I also involved myself with you, but I guess that’s something we’re better off not discussing. I did it all for you, Elle. That’s all I have to say.”
“Best of your luck with your music.” Her throat felt thick as she fought back tears. “Hopefully, I’ll hear you on the radio one day soon.” She was emotionally overwhelmed and ruffled his hair. “Now, go and make some other hunter’s life miserable. If you decide to return to the flock, maybe you and I will fight together again one day.”
His smile never slipped. “I wouldn’t mind that. Take care and don’t get yourself killed fighting a senseless war we’ll never really win. Living a normal life isn’t so bad, Elle. Remember that.”
He turned, stepping out the door and out of her life. The tears came a minute later, and she angrily dashed them away with the back of her hand. He was batshit crazy if he thought she couldn’t live without him. Demon hunting was an integral part of her she couldn’t just walk away from. Soon, she would be back teaching her little ones at the preschool and hunting on some nights, and she welcomed the routine. “Normal” was something she just didn’t do, but living close enough to it suited her fine.
****
Patrick closed the blinds, shutting out the vibrant sunset. He was back in his place in Pasadena, thoroughly enjoying the slight remodel that Tagas had arranged for. The jet black carpet was new, and he wiggled his toes in the plush fabric, smiling. A revamped condo that, thanks to the angel, he now owned gave him a sense of pride and well-being. He desperately needed a new car, but his advance from the record company would take care of that. He planned on shopping for one this weekend. Maybe a nice giant black SUV…?
His thoughts returned to Elle as he plucked the strings on his guitar. Even after three months away, he burned for her. She was his reason for joining the fight, once again. He didn’t plan on returning to his flock. He was now striving for balance, helping out when he could but maintaining his very human life. He thanked her for her outspoken courage in his heart every day. She had made a huge difference in his life, but he was more than grateful to her. He had come to realize that he loved her, even with her crazy lifestyle. Her big brown eyes with a glint of mischief, those lovely wild curls, her laugh, her mouthy opinions—he wanted it all permanently in his life. His dreams for them would probably never become reality, so he had chosen not to pursue her. No need to upset the life she had chosen. But still there were so many things left unsaid and unexplored between them. He began to play the music he heard in his head, focused only on the melody. It was time to thank her with his words.
****
Elle covered the last toddler with a soft blanket, watching her as she slept peacefully. What sweet baby dreams did she have? Did she see bottles of cold milk handed to her? Or, maybe, relive her time on the swing set? A deep longing set in as she turned away, grabbing the elegant cream envelope from her purse in the top cubby. She was reconsidering having a few little ones before her time for motherhood passed. She had spent the last three months envisioning a normal life with a loving husband who would father and raise her children at her side. No more lonely, loveless nights spent tossing in her bed as she craved simple human contact. The problem was that the man of her dreams had Patrick’s face. She now wanted what he had—a normal life after seven years of violent madness. Maybe it could all work if we gave it a try? Reach out to him, silly…
She pulled the record company invitation from the envelope. It had come in the mail the week before. The posed picture of him that they had included with the invite tore at her heart. With trembling fingers, she read it again. They were presenting Patrick Holt as a new artist on their label in an introductory mini concert at the Citiwalk in Universal City tomorrow night. The show would include a four-song set with an autograph-signing session immediately following.
She had been crazy to think she could live happily with only memories of their time together. What was once annoying about him had become endearing. She had stopped denying that she loved him. Whatever the outcome would be, she knew she had to be there tomorrow. Her thoughts turned to her wardrobe, and she immediately dismissed every single item. She would happily be making a trip to the mall. Her intent was to stun, though she knew it would take more than a sexy outfit to get him to have their far overdue conversation with her. Her heart lifted with the possibilities of how the night would turn out, and the workday flew by. There was a glimmer of hope. She finally had a reason to be happy again.
****
The Universal Citiwalk was alive with tourists and teens, leaving only narrow spaces to pass through as Elle made her way to the center of the large entertainment plaza in the hills above Hollywood. She hated crowds and usually avoided the place, unless it was to see a late night movie in her spare time.
It was spring, and she had dressed for the warm weather in a deep
purple maxi dress, dainty matching sandals peeking out below. She was manicured, pedicured, and perfumed to the max. Her hair was pulled back into an elegant upsweep, with the rich brown curls doing their own thing on top of her head. She looked lovely tonight, and it boosted her confidence, even though she rarely dressed too girly anymore. She knew how to dress like a femme fatale, but flirty feminine was not her usual style. This was a different look, but she liked it. Hopefully, Patrick would like it, too.
At the center of the Citiwalk, the stage was set up with the microphone and barstool in place. The stage lights were still dim. She looked to the right of the stage at the large merchandise table that was already in business selling Patrick’s CDs and T-shirts to scores of eager female buyers.
She moved through the gathering crowd to a place at the very front of the stage. She didn’t want to miss a moment. She checked her small handbag for her cell phone so that she could take a few pictures. The fifteen minutes to show time was the longest of her life.
****
He was on in two minutes. He had spotted her the moment she had come to stand at the front of the stage. Her position didn’t surprise him—he knew she was not the type to hide in the back. An adrenaline rush surged through him at the thought that whatever was between them wasn’t over. She wouldn’t be here if it was. This was a more than decent turnout, and he was eager to play his songs for his new fans. But this night of music was about Elle. The songs he was presenting tonight were heavy with new thoughts, new dreams, and fresh pain because she had inspired him. A roadie clapped him on the back, and Patrick nodded. He grabbed his guitar, flashed his familiar grin, and hit the stage.
The multicolored stage lights flashed, and Patrick emerged in a close fitting black T-shirt and tight jeans. The crowd went wild as he waved, stepping closer to the front of the stage to shake a few hands in the crowd. He didn’t come to her side, and Elle’s heart dipped in disappointment.
He positioned the barstool to a spot directly in front of her, and she went breathless. He sat down, acknowledging her for the first time with a nod and a small smile. He sat down, guitar in one hand, mic in the other as he addressed the audience. “Love means many different things to many people. It can be gentle and soothing, like a friend. Or…” The crowd screamed. “…it can be loud, rough, and be the sexiest time you ever had.” He looked directly in her eyes. “The best love for me is both. I’m going to start this thing tonight loud before I go soft and acoustic.”
As the crowd cheered, he replaced the mic and slung the guitar strap over his shoulder. The lights went crazy again as he played the first raucous chords of his song on his electric guitar. She stood transfixed as he performed, larger than life to her in that moment. She looked around at the exuberant crowd, her heart full at the fan support he had garnered over the months.
She listened closely as he progressed from the first song to the third, his often painful lyrics speaking to her soul. This was the part of Patrick that he didn’t often show, and she welcomed his outpouring of emotion. She was an emotional mess by the time the lights went low for his last song.
A roadie came onstage and traded his guitar. He sat down on the barstool, strumming aimlessly for a few long moments as hoots and cheers came from the packed crowd. He looked up, flashing a grin. “Here’s my last song, ladies and gents. I wrote this song for the only woman I will ever love for the rest of my years. Ain’t that a bitch?” The crowd laughed. He played a bit of Mexican Mariachi music, holding Elle’s gaze for a moment. “This song is called ‘My World.’ ”
Elle was caught up in the sheer beauty of the music before he even sang a note. Once he began, happy tears flooded her eyes at the haunting perfection of his lyrics that summed up their every thought, every emotion, every crystal clear memory together. He loved her back—she was absolutely certain.
After the song softly ended, he came to his feet, waving at the audience. “I’m Patrick Holt, and I thank you for being here tonight. If you liked what you heard, please visit my merchandise table. My songs will be dropped on most of the radio stations starting at midnight. Good night, ladies and gents. Be safe. God bless.” He disappeared backstage, and Elle tracked his movement, sliding between the shifting bodies to get to him.
She went around the side of the backstage area, her heart in her throat. He finally emerged, pushing the curtain aside and stepping down very close to her. She looked up at him demurely, her lips curved upward. He reached out, placing her palm to his. A muted light shone from their joined hands, and she tingled all over. He took his hand away, pulling her into a fierce embrace, burying his face in her neck.
“Finally you come to me, Elle. It took you three months to figure out where you belong?”
“I lied to myself for so long, Patrick. I wasn’t living much of a life, and you had to show me that. Normal, bizarre—I don’t care as long as my life is intertwined with yours. I’ve hunted demons for seven long years, and I honestly don’t believe that God expects more from me than to be happy and free for the rest of my life.”
He kissed her forehead. “In demon hunting years, you’re pretty old, baby.” He cradled his face in her hands. “Do you love me, Elle?”
“I will love you for the rest of my life.”
He nodded, his expression serious. “Good, ’cause I don’t want to be in love all by myself. You are my treasure, my place of refuge in the storm, my best friend. You are my world. I love you.”
His lips settled on hers, his tongue parting her lips to gently tease. She caught fire, returning his kiss with all she had to give. They separated after long, heated moments and he looped a muscled arm around her shoulders as they walked back to the merchandise table.
“I’m signing stuff for the next half hour, but don’t you leave my sight.” He patted her rounded bottom, and she slapped his arm affectionately.
****
Later, Elle held Patrick’s hand in the back of a luxurious black stretch limousine, waiting for their driver. The darkly tinted windows allowed them to see out with no one seeing in. A group of fans stood right outside in the parking lot, behind the red velvet rope, their cell phones flashing as they took pictures. She was still in awe that Patrick had garnered such a following in the past few months. She had known from the beginning that his talent would make him successful, but now that the moment was here, it all felt incredibly surreal.
Just as their driver got in the car and moved the car, the street lamps in the parking lot flickered wildly. She looked outside at the throng of people, catching sight of a mass of red hair and a familiar face at the front. Her heart thumping, she focused in on the fan. God, no. It can’t be her…Cascadia wore a sneer, waving at the limousine as it pulled away. She blinked and the red haired demon was gone from the crowd of fans.
Elle gripped Patrick’s hand tightly and he shot her a concerned look.
“Everything okay?”
She nodded, trying to calm herself. She could’ve been wrong, but she knew deep down that she wasn’t. Her stomach churned anxiously and a flash of anger snuck up on her, memories of Brandon returning. If Cascadia was preparing for an attack, she could bring it on. Elle was more than ready to make her pay for his death. She smiled at Patrick, caressing his face. “I’m fine. Just a little high strung from tonight.”
She rested in Patrick’s arms as the driver took them to the Mondrian, one of the more upscale hotels in Hollywood, where he was staying for the length of his promotion tour. She would spend the night with him, and they would pick up her SUV from the Citiwalk parking lot in the early morning. He nibbled her ear lobe, and she giggled, all thoughts of Cascadia gone for the moment.
“Hey, we’re about twenty minutes away from the hotel. How about a quickie while we still can? I am desperate for you, baby.” His tone was light and teasing
She looked at him, rolling her eyes. “This is not some rapper’s video, Patrick. I’m not getting naked back here, okay. I’m already losing you to the crazy music industry.”
>
He bit her bottom lip. “Who said anything about naked?” He tugged at the mass of curls on top of her head. “You will never lose me to anything, Elle. We keep each other grounded.”
“Good, because I hate to lose. Remember what you told me—I would get you in the end? Yeah, well, that’s happened.” She made a pillow out of his taut stomach.
He laughed. “No, what really happened is that you chased me until I caught you.”
“Are we really forever, Patrick?”
“As eternal as the heavens, honey.”
The big black limousine rolled on into the night. The bright lights on the stretch of Sunset Avenue ahead were no match for the twinkling lights of the eternal stars above.
A word about the author…
Tamela Miles is a California State University San Bernardino graduate student with a Bachelor of Science degree in Child Development and a former flight attendant. She grew up in Altadena, California, in that tumultuous time known as the 1980s. She now resides with her family in the Inland Empire, CA. She’s a horror/paranormal romance writer mainly because it feels so good having her characters do bad things and, later, pondering what makes them so bad and why they can never seem to change their wicked ways.
She enjoys emails from people who like her work. In fact, she loves emails. She can be contacted at [email protected] or her Facebook page, Tamela Miles Books. She also welcomes reader reviews and enjoys the feedback from people who love to read as much as she does.
Thank you for purchasing
this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.