Protected in Darkness (Misplaced Halos, 1)

by Nicole Edwards

  “Maybe a drink then?” Taayin offered. “Something to help you work up the nerve.”

  Obsidian turned toward the male, smirked.

  Before he could poof his ass elsewhere, Obsidian’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

  “Yeah?” he greeted Reidar, the ladeare in charge of directing the fiestreigh under Obsidian’s command.

  “We’ve got eyes on Perfidious.”

  Son of a bitch. Although Michael had warned them that the mesonneir were walking amongst the humans, they’d yet to encounter one.

  “Where?”

  “Heading toward New York, New York.”

  Obsidian growled. “Keep him at that end of the strip.”

  “You found her, didn’t you?”

  “I did.”

  “Should I take him out?”

  Obsidian considered it for a moment. In a perfect world, they would eliminate Perfidious, which would keep his amsouelot in the clear. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a perfect world, and to take down a demon the likes of Perfidious would require more power than Reidar possessed on his own.

  “Just keep him in your sights,” Obsidian told him.

  “Fuck. All right, but he’s got a handful of impietans surrounding him. I’ve got Gryffyth with me, so we’ll do our best to distract them.”

  Due to the concern in Reidar’s voice, Obsidian dematerialized, taking form in a darkened hallway to shield himself from the humans. A second later, Taayin appeared beside him. With the phone still to his ear, Obsidian strolled out, senses already reaching out to ensure there were no demons lurking nearby.

  “Whatever it takes,” Obsidian ordered Reidar before disconnecting and tucking his phone in his pocket.

  “I’ll go help Reidar,” Taayin offered. “You make like glue and stick close to her.”

  Obsidian nodded.

  No sooner had Taayin strolled off than Obsidian turned around…

  And came face-to-face with his destiny.

  Well, maybe face-to-face was a bit of an overstatement.

  MOVING THROUGH HER SECTION, PENELOPE CALAZANS OFFERED drinks to the few customers who’d been lingering for a while.

  As it was Monday night during the height of the summer season, they were surprisingly slow, not a lot of people lurking about. Then again, the partiers were back in their own beds, sleeping off the hard-core weekend, while the locals kept on with their day jobs. Or night, as was her case since she’d been lucky enough to get the overnight shift.

  “Penelope,” someone called in a singsong voice.

  Turning slowly, Penelope scanned the people milling about, smiling when she saw Chelsea moving toward her. She prepared herself to be slammed with her co-worker’s emotions. Wouldn’t matter if Chelsea was happy, sad, or sexually frustrated, Penelope’s senses were so heightened she would feel them with the force of a tsunami.

  Thanks to whatever weird curse she’d been born with, her emotional well-being was tied to others, something that had taken her years to come to terms with. Since she was a kid, Penelope had been able to feel the moods and intentions of those around her, their emotions seemingly becoming her own. It was an affliction she’d grown up with and over time had learned to not so much master but endure.

  “Hey, Chels.”

  The younger woman grinned widely as she held up the tattered paperback Penelope had loaned her last week. “You were right. It was amazing.”

  Chelsea’s energy was calm with a hint of excitement. Nothing Penelope couldn’t handle.

  “Glad you liked it.”

  “I’ll put it in your locker if that’s cool.”

  “Yep. Oh, and I’ve got the next book if you want to read it. I can bring it on Wednesday.”

  “That would be awesome!”

  As soon as Chelsea walked away, Penelope retrieved another empty glass from a slot machine, set it on her tray, then turned to head back in the opposite direction.

  She came up short, nearly plowing into a man.

  Righting the tipping glass on her tray, Penelope chuckled to hide her surprise. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching…”

  Her words died in her throat as she peered up at him. Way up. At close to seven feet tall, he wasn’t so much a man as he was a mountain. A sinfully attractive, rock-solid, muscled mountain.

  Wow.

  As usual, Penelope waited for the assault of emotions, the baggage that came with every person she encountered. After a few seconds, she realized there was absolutely nothing coming from him. Zip, zero, zilch. Either he was merely a husk or his emotions were blocked from her.

  Though his intimidating appearance should’ve had her backing away, Penelope found her feet rooted in place as she studied his striking features. The jet-black hair, the strong, lean line of his jaw, and what had to be the most elegant mouth she’d ever seen on a man. He was, quite simply, scrumptious. Unfortunately, she couldn’t see his eyes because they were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses that should’ve made him look like a douche since it was night, but instead made him look like a badass. Her imagination ran wild, picturing the eyes behind the lenses as a dreamy blue or even a jeweled green.

  Realizing she looked like an idiot, Penelope tried to move around him, but his massive body, rocking jeans and a T-shirt in a way that should’ve been illegal, was blocking her path.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” she offered, not sure if he was intending to say something or merely waiting for her to get out of his way.

  “No.” His voice was rich and dark, the single word dancing over her skin.

  “Okay, then. If you change your mind, just let me know.”

  This time when she tried to move around him, he stepped out of the way. But not before her arm brushed his. The sensation that rocked her entire being drew her up short, had her turning to look up at him once more.

  Even though his eyes were covered, Penelope could feel the intensity of his stare. It washed over her, sent a shiver of awareness through all her senses. She didn’t recognize him, but Penelope got the feeling she knew him somehow.

  Or perhaps it was merely her libido on the fritz. There was no denying the guy hit all the right buttons.

  But it wasn’t only his striking features that had her senses on red alert. All of those did come together to form a rather yummy package, but they were more the decoration, what fanned the flames. The real attraction she felt was for the power she sensed in him, the restraint. It shrouded him like an aura, enticing her to interact.

  “Do I know you?” Penelope whispered.

  He didn’t smile, didn’t respond, merely assessed, waiting for her to make a move.

  Feeling awkward, Penelope offered another smile, and just when she was about to turn away, his hand lifted, rising toward her face. She stood there, breath lodged in her chest as he brushed his knuckles lightly over her cheek. The first thing she noticed was how enormous his hand was in comparison to her head. When she said he was giant, she wasn’t exaggerating. Even in her four-inch heels, she wasn’t quite eye-level with his chest. The second thing she noticed was a shocking wave of desire that warmed her from the inside out, sparked by that simple touch.

  Before Penelope realized what she was doing, she covered his hand with hers, leaning into it lightly. His touch was by far the most soothing thing she’d ever felt. Along with the warmth of his skin, there was a deep sense of peace. It was almost shocking in its intensity, making it difficult for her to break the strange but undeniable connection.

  “Hey, waitress! Could I get a drink over here?”

  A-a-and there was the emotion she’d been trying to avoid.

  While sadness was difficult to deal with and happiness sometimes caught her off guard, irritation was the worst. It made her skin prickle painfully, and this guy’s frustration was buried deep in his bone marrow.

  Penelope’s mystery man’s head swiveled, his attention going to the rude guy she’d been catering to most of the night. Knowing she had to take care of him, she dropped her hand and stepped
back from the stranger.

  “Excuse me. Duty calls.”

  The sexy guy turned his attention back to her, nodded.

  Penelope spun around and sauntered over to Mr. Slot Machine.

  “It’s about time,” he huffed, not bothering to look up from his task. “You’d think I could get some decent service. I’ve been here all night.”

  Her skin felt like ants were doing the Macarena, and she had to fight to keep from dragging her nails over her arms.

  “What can I get you?” she asked, maintaining the polite tone required of her.

  “Another vodka and cranberry.” He cast a pithy look her way. “Make that two. Since you’re taking your sweet time tonight.”

  Figuring it wouldn’t benefit her to get lost in her section before getting his drinks, Penelope headed right for the server station, relayed the order.

  “Hey, Pen. How’s it going?” Tim, one of the bartenders on duty, asked.

  She offered a one-shoulder shrug. “Not too bad.” She nodded toward the fresh glass he held in his hand. “This guy’s a bit antsy.”

  Tim smiled. “He said diluted vodka, right?”

  When she returned to the floor a few minutes later, the man was still sitting at his slot machine, continuously hitting the button to spin the reels hoping for the triple sevens that would signal a big payday.

  “Vodka and cranberry.” Penelope set the two glasses on the shelf near his knees, then turned away.

  “Oh, wait, miss,” he said politely.

  Turning back, she frowned.

  He offered a beaming smile. “Thank you.”

  Confused that maybe she’d delivered the drinks to the wrong person, Penelope studied his face, because either he was Mr. Slot Machine’s nice twin or he’d received a personality overhaul in the few minutes since she’d walked away. Gone was his frustration, in its place a sense of remorse, as though he regretted how he’d treated her earlier.

  “Here you are.” He held out two twenty-dollar bills.

  Hesitantly, Penelope took them from his hand, offered a smile of her own feeling only a tad guilty about the extra water.

  After placing the bills beneath the glass on her tray, Penelope peered around, noticed her mystery man was nowhere in sight.

  Too bad. He’d been the highlight of her night.

  Chapter Two

  NO SOONER HAD PENELOPE RETURNED TO HER section than Obsidian’s neck began to itch, a sure sign that things were about to get ugly up in this bitch.

  He scanned the interior with all his senses, seeking the anomaly as he moved along the wall, keeping to the peripheral of the humans.

  It wasn’t like he could keep a low profile. By design he stood out, but he wasn’t concerned. The hundreds of cameras throughout weren’t capable of catching his image. In fact, he was only seen by the human eye because he chose to let them see him.

  With the itch turning into a raging case of eczema, he called out to his ladeare telepathically. When it took more than a few seconds for Reidar to answer, he shot out another.

  A little busy here, was Reidar’s clipped reply.

  Obsidian’s gaze swept across the space, bouncing from one face to another as he strolled between machines. He came to a halt when he saw three large males circling the tables, clearly on a mission. To the humans, they looked like normal, everyday people. And while impietans didn’t have demonic faces visible to angels as a true demon did, they lacked a heat signature because they were ultimately dead.

  I’ve got a bead on some impietans. Here in the casino.

  Yeah? A soft chuckle sounded in Obsidian’s head. You and me both.

  Son of a bitch.

  Taayin?

  Of course, he was offline, damn it.

  Marching toward the threesome scanning the casino floor, Obsidian shot a mental command to the humans to keep their eyes averted. How long it would hold was beyond him considering his focus was for shit. Shielding the humans and keeping them unaware of the demons was usually his top priority. Right now, his only goal was to get these bastards out the door before they located their target. No doubt in Obsidian’s mind they were seeking Penelope.

  With a shrill whistle that was beyond the capabilities of human hearing, Obsidian caught the demons’ attention, their beady eyes swinging around to locate the source.

  Canting his head to the side, Obsidian smirked.

  The one in the lead snarled as it began its march in his direction.

  Never one to run from a fight, Obsidian took a leisurely stroll toward the doors leading out into the night, the things following at a fast clip.

  Once outside, he glanced left, right. Content the humans weren’t looking his way, Obsidian led the band of merry assholes down the walkway in front of the casino. Rounding a corner, he started down a darkened drive separating one casino from the next.

  “Come on, you jackasses,” he muttered, praying he’d keep their attention long enough to get them out of sight of the humans.

  With impietans, it was hit or miss. The imbeciles weren’t capable of logical thought, so it was an effort just to maintain their focus for longer than a minute. These things were the most vicious of demons if for no other reason than they were idiots. Humans who were turned by a demon morphed into a mindless, soulless monster that couldn’t think for itself, unable to speak. It was used for one purpose, to perform a single task. Sometimes as labor for whatever the demons were working on, but usually instructed to kill. And it always left a path of destruction in its wake. The warriors had taken care of their fair share over the centuries. Impietans were easy to eliminate because, again, they were idiots. It was the mess left behind that caused the biggest problem. Once stabbed, they dissolved into a thick black sludge that tainted everything.

  Obsidian felt Taayin’s presence before he saw the male stepping out of the shadows.

  “Sorry, boss man, got hung up with another one,” his lieterra explained, moving around so that the impietans were between them. “These bastards are everywhere tonight.”

  Which meant Perfidious was busy building an army. It didn’t surprise Obsidian. In fact, he’d go so far as to say the demon was behind schedule.

  “I knew I smelled ’em,” Reidar grumbled, appearing at Obsidian’s side.

  Yes, the impietans had a unique odor. A stench so powerful it seeped through your nostrils and coated your tongue. One that was closely related to the sulphur family, only more poignant.

  “Where’s Perfidious?” Obsidian asked Reidar.

  A few quick steps and the impietans were at the center of their oddly formed circle.

  “Gryffyth’s keeping an eye on him. He’s getting his drink on right now. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was in Vegas to check out the sights.”

  Or so he wanted them to believe. Perfidious always had a plan, even if it was to appear as though he didn’t.

  “Would it be too much to ask to find a formidable foe tonight?” Reidar shrugged his shoulders, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Last ones all but impaled themselves on the blade.”

  As though they heard him, three more appeared, heading toward them at a jog.

  Great. “That better?”

  “I could take all six with my hands tied behind my back and my eyes closed,” Reidar challenged, a glint in his eye.

  “I could always time you,” Taayin told him. “Just to make it more interesting.”

  “If it wasn’t closing in on Miller time, I might take you up on that.”

  “We gonna dance?” Obsidian prompted the demon closest to him.

  Its dead black eyes narrowed, confusion marring its forehead. Even if it were capable of speaking, the thing had no idea how to answer the question.

  “Fists or blade?” Reidar asked.

  “Fists’ll be more entertaining,” Taayin mused. “Blades’ll get us home faster.”

  As though bored, Reidar planted his feet wide, tossing one of his custom-made, four-and-a-half-inch push daggers into the air and catchi
ng it over and over, the light from the strip bouncing off the silver blade. The good news was, he hadn’t started juggling them.

  Obsidian kept his eyes on the impietans as they began the shifty dance, twisting around, assessing. They glanced between themselves, probably trying to determine who would die first. Then again, Obsidian wasn’t sure they were capable of determining even that much.

  “Hey, T,” Reidar called out conversationally. “Remember that redhead from the bar the other night?”

  “By bar, you mean strip club?” Obsidian asked.

  “Ta-may-toe, ta-mah-toe.”

  Taayin smirked. “Which one?”

  Since the Angels of Darkness were forbidden to have interactions with humans, Obsidian had to assume this redheaded stripper was either a vampire or a fairy, the only other species willing to tangle with an angel. He figured vampire, knowing Reidar’s taste in females.

  “The tall one. Big green eyes, even bigger…” Reidar crudely cupped his imaginary breasts.

  “Oh, I remember.”

  One of the impietans paused, looked over its shoulder, then stood there as though it had no idea what it’d been about to do. They took dumb ass to an entirely different level. Sometimes Obsidian wondered why the fuck the mesonneir even bothered turning them.

  “She’s been blowing up my phone,” Reidar continued as though they were out for a leisurely stroll. “Said you told her I had a surprise for her.”

  Taayin chuckled. “Did she?”

  Reidar stood tall, squaring off with one of the idiots closest to him. “You care to enlighten me on what you told her?”

  The impietan in front of Obsidian glanced down at the eight-inch black steel tactical dagger in his hand before lifting its eyes to his face.

  “I might’ve told her your dick’s made of plaster,” Taayin replied.

  Reidar roared in laughter. “You didn’t.”

  The impietans all turned as one, focused on Reidar.

  “Yeah.” Taayin grinned over at him. “I kinda did.”