Pulling out a chair, he waited for Penelope to take a seat before moving to his own. Selecting the one to her left, he was able to keep the balcony wall behind him and maintain a full view of the hotel room. One might say he was a paranoid angel. Then again, if the humans were aware of the evil that lurked, they would probably do the same.
Alden, the angel posing as the butler, came over, removed the silver lids from the plates. “Is there anything else I may get you?”
Penelope’s reaction to the male was a quick smile, her eyes dropping to her plate.
“We’re good for now,” Obsidian told him, followed by a telepathic order: Follow up with Reidar, get a status.
Alden bowed, then exited quickly.
“All right, Obsidian, tell me something about yourself,” Penelope prompted when they were alone.
Since she didn’t realize how loaded that request was, he deflected. “What would you like to know?”
“Everything.” Her smile was radiant. “But we can start slow. If you’re not a bounty hunter, what exactly do you do? For a living?”
“Protection,” he said easily, having given the response a million times before.
“Like a bodyguard?”
“In a sense, sure.” Obsidian picked up his fork, took a few bites, urging her to eat because he could tell she was hungry.
Penelope followed his lead, cutting her omelet into smaller pieces before taking a bite. He was strangely drawn to the way her lips caressed her fork, mesmerized by her soft murmurs of approval.
Her eyebrows lifted. “And how exactly does a bodyguard afford a hotel room on the top floor?”
“I’ve got connections.” That was the truth.
Then again, every answer he gave her would be the truth.
Because Penelope was his amsouelot, the Fates were at play here. Though this appeared as a normal date, it was actually the beginning of a cataclysmic union of souls. As they got to know one another, only truth would be spoken between them. Unlike human souls paired together, those paired with an immortal were held to a higher standard. They were incapable of lying to one another. For her, Obsidian doubted that was a problem. For him, it wasn’t quite so easy. Because he had to tread carefully about the details he revealed—such as the fact he was an angel—it was imperative he deflect.
Not that he couldn’t tell her. They’d received the go-ahead from Michael to be as candid as was necessary with the humans slated as their other half. However, he wasn’t sure Penelope would be able to handle the truth. At least not yet.
But that wasn’t the only obstacle they had to overcome. In fact, that was minor in comparison to the chemical reaction they would have to one another.
On the physical front, her body would lust for his in a way she wouldn’t be familiar with, growing stronger every second she was with him. No other male could instill such a deep-seated hunger within her, and it wouldn’t be long before his female would need him the same way he needed her. On an intensely intimate level. In fact, it had escalated tenfold the moment he’d felt her soft skin, smelled her powdery scent.
Preferring to keep the topic on her, Obsidian nodded toward her purse. “What are you reading?”
Penelope reached for the paperback sticking out of the leather handbag. She set it on the table. “I loaned it to a friend. It’s one of my all-time favorites.”
“What’s it about?”
“Fallen angels. It’s a paranormal romance.” She blushed beautifully. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
The female ate with such grace, her hand movements minimal, chewing slowly, sipping from her glass. Obsidian could hardly focus on his food long enough to remember the social niceties of sharing a meal.
“I’ve had this fascination with the paranormal since I was a teenager,” she explained. “I’m not sure what spurred it, but I devour everything I can get my hands on. I even majored in mythology and folklore in college.”
“In the realm of vampires and werewolves? Or more so Greek gods?”
She smiled. “All of the above. Among other things. And no, I don’t believe they exist—at least not vampires and werewolves, but I do enjoy the escape from reality.”
Probably not the time to tell her his closest friend was a vampire then.
“And your interest in angels?” He nodded toward the book. “Are you active in the church?”
Penelope shook her head. “No. I … uh … I just enjoy the romanticized versions of angels in fiction.”
“Fascinated by angels and vampires.” For some reason, that pleased him.
“Don’t tell me you’re not.”
Fascinated wouldn’t quite be the term he would use, but Obsidian smiled anyway. “Do you believe in God?”
She nodded. “I do, yes.”
Her conviction surprised him.
“But I’ve never been to church.”
“Never?”
Penelope lowered her eyes as though embarrassed. “My father doesn’t believe in God. Says if He did exist, my mother wouldn’t have left him.”
Ah. A common misconception among humans. They believed God had a hand in everything they did, and when it didn’t turn out as they hoped, they turned against Him.
While he could’ve ventured down that path, Obsidian tended to avoid religion and politics if at all possible.
Shifting to a safer topic, he motioned toward the building. “What prompted you to work here?”
Her smile disappeared, her gaze dropping to her plate. “I tried to tell myself it was to be closer to my brother, but it was more so because I needed a change of scenery. When I got here, I needed a job. This was the first offer I received. It pays better than I expected, and until I figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life, I’m enjoying it.”
“And your brother? He’s here in Vegas?”
“Yep. Living the high life. Met a woman about a month ago, claims he’s in love.”
“But you don’t believe it?”
Penelope shook her head, finished chewing. “There’s something about her that puts me off.”
“Seems fitting for a sibling to think that.”
Penelope’s gaze locked on his face, setting her fork down. “Oh, it’s not that. Truly. I’ve never judged my brother for the women he’s dated. And he’s entertained some real losers. But this one… I don’t know what it is about her, but she’s not right. Maybe it’s her name. Seraphina. It just reminds me of… Never mind.”
He paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. “Have you met her?”
“Only once. A couple of weeks ago. He brought her to the casino.” Penelope dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “Like I said, they’ve only been together for about a month, but Oliver’s already talking marriage. To be honest, she doesn’t seem the marrying sort.”
Frowning, Obsidian waited for her to elaborate. When she didn’t, he realized she was hoping for a subject change.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here. More so that our paths crossed,” he told her.
She smiled sweetly, picking up her fork again. “So am I.”
Obsidian shot a telepathic command to Alden, requesting him to have Taayin look into Seraphina. If two of the mesonneir were here in Vegas and one of them was courting Penelope’s brother, they had a much bigger problem on their hands.
For a few minutes, they ate in silence, the sounds from the strip drifting up high. While Penelope would hear the horns from the cars, perhaps even the music from a nearby casino, Obsidian could decipher the conversations taking place on the street below. It took effort to block it out, but he found it wasn’t too difficult with Penelope close. The only thing he wanted to focus on was her.
“And how do you like the hospitality industry?” he asked.
“Interacting with so many people wouldn’t normally be my first choice,” Penelope said as she set her fork down once again.
“Not fond of people?”
“I like them fine.” She picked up her orange
juice glass. “It’s their emotions that cause me problems.”
“How so?”
Another shy smile. “It’s not a medical diagnosis or anything, but I’ve got this heightened sense of emotion.”
“Meaning what? You can feel when someone’s sad?”
“Actually, yes. That’s exactly it. Almost like their emotions are my own. Too many at once can overload my system.” She nodded her chin toward the casino below. “Quite a feat when you’re dealing with something as emotionally charged as gambling.”
Good point. “How do you deal with it?”
“For the most part, I’m used to it. Anger and frustration are difficult because they make my skin crawl. Sadness is… It consumes me. Thankfully, I don’t encounter that much from tourists.” She took a sip of her juice, set the glass aside. “The worst is when someone has ill intentions. Especially if I touch them. It’s like an electrical shock.” She gave a soft smile. “Needless to say, I don’t touch many people.”
The admission pleased him. More so because she’d taken his hand relatively easily when he’d offered it.
“What emotions do you get from me?”
“I don’t.”
Canting his head to the side, Obsidian considered that. “None at all?”
“It’s like you’re blocked from me.” She laughed, clearly seeing his concern. “That’s not a bad thing. It’s quite nice, really. I’m free to feel what I want to feel.”
He extended his arm toward her. “And when you touch me?”
Her eyes remained on his face as her soft fingers brushed over his arm. His skin tingled where her fingertips settled, his entire being lighting up.
“A sense of peace,” she acknowledged. “I noticed it when you touched my cheek downstairs.”
She pulled her hand back, and instantly he missed her touch. Obsidian finished off his omelet, then pushed his plate away.
Penelope did the same. “Do you come to Vegas for business often?”
“Not usually, no. But I do travel a lot.”
“You said you were here looking for someone? Did you locate them?”
“Yes.”
When she didn’t say anything, Obsidian slipped into her mind, curious as to where her thoughts had gone. She was reliving the scene down in the casino. When he’d touched her. He hadn’t intended to do it, but he’d been unable to help himself. Even now, it took tremendous restraint not to reach for her.
Her thoughts instantly shifted to him leaving town, never to be heard from again. She thought that because he’d found who he was looking for, he had no reason to stick around. Of course, she wouldn’t know he’d come here to find her.
Before he could come up with a way to broach the subject without letting on he’d read her mind, Penelope shifted her chair back.
She finished her orange juice before tucking her book back in her purse. “I hate to eat and run, but I really should be heading home. I promised my neighbor I’d feed her cat.”
Since the sun would be rising shortly, Obsidian needed to do the same.
“How about breakfast tomorrow morning?” he offered, pushing to his feet.
“I’m not working tonight. I have Tuesdays off.”
“Then the next day.”
“Really?”
He took her hand after she put her purse on her arm. “Really.”
Obsidian loved the way her small hand settled in his so easily.
“Up here?”
He paused, glanced back at the strip when they stepped into the hotel room. “It offers a nice view, no? Plus, it’s private.”
“True.”
“So, that’s a yes?” He opened the door, escorted her out into the hallway.
“We’ll see.”
He liked that she was playing hard to get. Not a trait he often found in females he encountered. Then again, Penelope was unlike any female he’d ever met.
“Thank you for breakfast,” she said softly, as though not sure what else to say.
“Thank you for joining me,” he replied.
When the elevator doors opened, Obsidian put his hand up to ensure they didn’t close on her. Penelope’s head turned his way, her eyes lingering on his mouth when she passed by, as though she was hoping he would kiss her. Once she was inside, he joined her, a move that clearly took her by surprise.
“You don’t have to walk me down.”
“But I do.” Her safety was paramount, but he also wasn’t quite ready to leave her yet.
Another blush colored her cheeks as she ducked her head shyly.
The doors closed with a soft whoosh, and he pushed the button for the casino floor.
After slowing the elevator with his mind, Obsidian put his finger under her chin and tilted her head up. “I really hope to see you again.”
“Likewise.”
As they stood there, Obsidian felt that inexplicable pull. He realized he’d leaned down, his hand curled around the side of her neck, thumb gliding along her jaw.
Her eyes glittered. He could sense her intrigue. She was surprised by her reaction to him, but she wasn’t disappointed. Knowing that made it easier to do what he wanted to do.
“I’m going to kiss you, Penelope.”
She nodded, going up onto her toes, offering him permission. Having waited for this moment for what felt like an eternity, Obsidian leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers. Her soft sigh had his entire body hardening, but he ignored it.
Obsidian didn’t intend to do more than brush his lips against hers, so when Penelope’s hand slid behind his neck, pulling him toward her, he nearly stumbled. And while he could be a gentleman, he wasn’t in that moment. His tongue slid past her soft lips, gliding over her teeth, seeking hers. She kissed him back, turning the gentle press of mouths to a full-blown mating.
He was completely in sync with her. Every breath, every heartbeat, even the throb of lust that coursed through her veins. He wanted to feel her beneath him, undulating, writhing, her body melding with his.
It took tremendous restraint to hold himself back, but he managed.
When Obsidian released her mouth, he stood tall, looked into her eyes, memorizing this moment for all eternity, then allowed the elevator to resume its natural pace.
“I’ll be here Thursday morning,” he told her. “Have breakfast with me again.”
This time, his amsouelot didn’t resist.
She smiled. “I’d like that.”
After seeing Penelope to her car, Obsidian made his way to his own. The Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat Redeye wasn’t quite the same as taking flight, but it was damn close. While he’d made no modifications to the engine, he’d had the car blacked out, both inside and out. Not out of necessity, more because he liked the way it looked.
It took roughly ten minutes to make the twenty-mile trek back to the house the fiestreigh claimed as their own during their stay here in Vegas. As he pulled into the small two-car garage and shut off the engine, Obsidian instantly missed his brothers. He missed the twelve-bay garage at the mansion, the row of muscle cars and motorcycles his brothers favored. Having spent centuries alongside them, it was taking some time to get used to not having them around.
When he stepped into the house, Obsidian was assaulted by the Red Hot Chili Peppers blaring through the sound system wired throughout, which meant Gryffyth was here. Obsidian strolled through the wide-open space, heading for the kitchen, peering around to see who’d arrived before him.
“Hey, you’re back,” Acadia called out, a brilliant smile on the Fae’s face. “I heard the good news.”
Her eyes scanned the space behind him, as though she expected someone else.
“Where is she?”
He grinned, opening the refrigerator and pulling out a beer. “At home.”
Acadia pouted. “Well, that’s no fun. I was hoping to meet her.”
Tilting the bottle to his lips, Obsidian studied her. Tonight, the fairy was decked out in a silky blue gown that covered her from neck to toe, cli
nging to every curve, the skirt flaring out around her feet, which no doubt were bare.
“How does this work, anyway? You’ve finally located your amsouelot and what? You just let her go back to her regular life?”
“Not like he can expect her to fall at his feet, Acadia,” Gryffyth rumbled as he joined them. “She’s a human. She expects things.”
Acadia, ever innocent, turned her attention to the male. “Like what?”
“Dinner, dancing. Dating.”
“Well, poo.” Acadia’s bright amethyst eyes danced between the two of them. “I think the lintamair’s more than enough to convince her.”
The Fae was referring to the mating ceremony to unite a mortal soul with an immortal’s, which was both complicated and … not completely romantic in every manner.
Obsidian sighed, took another pull on his beer. “In time.”
She frowned again, spinning around to the stove. The sound of burners being clicked off punctuated her heavy sigh. “I guess there’s no need for a feast then.”
“Hey,” Gryffyth told her. “You want to cook, I’ll always eat.”
She shook her head. “I’m going to my room.” Her eyes lifted to Obsidian’s. “Unless you need me.”
“I do, actually.”
Acadia nodded. “I’ll meet you in your quarters.”
The Fae had been with them since the beginning of their mission, fifteen hundred years ago. The command for their presence had come from God, insisting the Fae provided their services to the warriors. Since the Fae had been categorized as misplaced halos somewhere along the way, it was likely the big guy’s way of ensuring they didn’t veer too far off path as they’d been known to do.
Though they were good with a blade, the Fae had long since turned in their swords. While the human females were asserting their dominance, the Fae had opted to ease off the front lines, going back to their roots, providing comfort to the angels. While the males in the house often accepted their offers of sex, Obsidian had never allowed himself to succumb to their advances. Not those who were part of their mission, anyway.
Protected in Darkness (Misplaced Halos, 1) Page 5