Protected in Darkness (Misplaced Halos, 1)

by Nicole Edwards

  “Who’s he?”

  For the life of her, Penelope couldn’t fathom why anyone would be out to … do this. There were no angry boyfriends from her past, no disgruntled prior roommates. She didn’t have enemies. Probably had a lot to do with the fact that she didn’t have friends. Well, not many, anyway. The only real friend she had lived in LA. The next closest would be the pizza guy, and truth be told, she didn’t even know his name. But clearly someone was attempting to send her a message.

  Just as the ache in her chest built to astronomical proportions, Penelope stumbled back into the kitchen. Perhaps she should’ve stayed with Obsidian. It would’ve kept this ridiculous ache at bay, plus put off seeing … this.

  Surveying the littered space, she felt a slight tremble beneath her skin. An inkling of fear, sure. But there was something else. Anger, frustration. Betrayal.

  Penelope squealed when Obsidian poofed into existence, right there in her kitchen.

  She clutched her hand to her chest, stumbled back, eyes wide as she stared at him. How… Why… What the fuck?

  As though it was completely normal for him to appear out of thin air, Obsidian scanned the room, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. “Did they take anything?”

  “I… How’d you do that?” The squeak in her voice wasn’t intentional.

  His attention shifted to her momentarily, but he didn’t answer her question, instead repeating his own.

  She could hardly breathe, shocked to the roots of her hair, confused beyond belief.

  “Penelope. Did they take anything?”

  Forcing her eyes away from him, she took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. “I’m not sure how I could tell. Everything I own’s smashed or slashed.”

  With Obsidian there, at least that irritating ache had disappeared. And yes, fine, a little of the fear dissipated as well.

  She didn’t bother following when he made a detour through her bedroom.

  With a deep exhale, she kicked a cushion out of her way, then moved to grab her iPad from the couch. The screen was shattered, but it was there. Of course, the hardback copy of Acheron had been slaughtered, too.

  Obsidian strolled out of her bedroom.

  “I don’t think they took anything.” She glanced around at all the expensive things they’d left in their wake. “Now can I call the police?”

  “No. We can’t.”

  She jerked her head toward him. “What do you mean, can’t? This is my stuff, Obsidian. It needs to be replaced. I’m not even sure renter’s insurance’ll cover it, but at the least, I need a police report.”

  A sound outside the window caught her attention. Penelope peered out through the broken blinds to see three large men slamming car doors, their eyes fixed on her Honda. Since it was now dark outside, the lights in her apartment beamed out, all but shouting her presence. It wouldn’t have been a problem, except the biggest one’s eyes lifted, met hers through the window. There was something definitely wrong about him, and not just the eerie malevolence she sensed in him.

  When they took off at a jog, she muttered a not-so-delicate oh, shit.

  Obsidian grabbed her from behind. Plucking her right off her feet like she weighed nothing. Before she could ask him what the hell, he was depositing her in her bedroom.

  He lifted his sunglasses, met her gaze with narrowed eyes. “Do not move, Penelope. No matter what. Stay here.”

  She glared at him, but the only response she got was the door shut in her face.

  Lovely.

  A few seconds later, she heard the sound of a crash. Like someone had kicked in the front door.

  Instinct had her grabbing the closest thing she could find, which happened to be a slender wooden vase. She doubted it would do much damage, but hey, it was something. Penelope flattened her body to the wall behind the door, her goal to be hidden in case someone came in.

  Her heart was pounding, blood racing in her veins, the roar in her ears reminding her that she was alive and, for the time being, well.

  “Don’t move,” she muttered, mocking Obsidian’s stern tone.

  To be fair, she considered waltzing right out there like some goddess of the Amazon, taking them on with her fists. If she thought for a second she could mete out her own brand of justice, she would’ve gone after them.

  Sound exploded from the kitchen. More glass shattering, a few grunts as though the exertion was taxing on the body.

  Something hit the wall with a heavy thud followed by a screech that had her eyes widening. More grunts and groans erupted, the distinct sounds of a fight.

  Then everything went eerily silent.

  Seconds turned to minutes, and she started to panic, worried something had happened to Obsidian.

  Penelope reached for the doorknob but came up short when it opened, nearly knocking her on her ass. She stared up into Obsidian’s face, relieved that he was in one piece. In fact, he didn’t look fazed. Certainly not like he’d just gone hand-to-hand with three guys.

  “Where’d they go?”

  “They’ve been dealt with.”

  Obsidian pulled her against him. She was about as resistant as a leaf in a hurricane and shaking almost as much. With her head on his abdomen—he really was ridiculously tall, wasn’t he?—she allowed his strength and warmth to console her.

  “Can I call the police now?” she asked when she mustered up the energy to pull back.

  “No.”

  Stepping into the living room, Penelope frowned. “Why not?” She came to an abrupt halt and nearly tipped ass over teakettle. “Ew. Gross. What is that?”

  There on the floor was… She wasn’t even sure what it was. Thick, black goop—it looked like tar and smelled just as ripe—coated the floor and part of the wall.

  “Close your eyes,” he insisted.

  Odd request at a time like this. “Why?”

  “Close them, Penelope.”

  With a huff, she squeezed them shut. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking care of the mess.”

  Well, in that case…

  Even through her closed lids, she could see a brilliant light. There was a warmth that went along with it, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come.

  “Okay. You can open them.”

  When she did, Penelope stumbled back against the wall, scared she’d just fallen down the rabbit hole and into an alternate universe.

  Her apartment looked exactly as she’d left it before she’d left for work Wednesday night, nothing out of place. Even the bowl she’d left in the dish drainer was there, the spoon beside it. Her iPad was still on the arm of the sofa, no longer shattered, the book in one piece. Her television…

  “How did you do that?”

  “I need to get you somewhere safe,” he said, his voice calm and cool.

  “Like where? Your hotel?” She shook her head, letting it swivel on her neck like her eyes were tracking a paddleball. “Not happening, Obsidian. I…” Hell, she didn’t even know what she wanted to say. She was all mixed up, confused. Between the destruction, Obsidian’s inexplicable—not to mention, physically impossible—appearance, the way he’d magically repaired everything…

  Slapping her hands on her hips, Penelope pinned him with a stare. “I need you to be straight with me.”

  “I will. I’ll answer all your questions, but not right now. I need to get you away from here.”

  “Why? Because someone broke in?” She huffed, fought the urge to look at her poor decapitated fairy statue.

  Wait.

  Nope. No longer decapitated. That was good news, at least.

  “I’m sure this is normal,” she said, spinning back to face him. “It’s not really the best neighborhood. Probably some hoodlums looking to…” She shut down that train of thought before make off with my electronics came out because it was evident they hadn’t been here to steal her crap.

  Hands once again firmly on her hips, Penelope squared her shoulders. “What’s going on?”

  Obsidian’s lips pur
sed and she could tell he wasn’t eager to fill her in.

  “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me.”

  “Someone’s after you, Penelope.”

  “Who?”

  “Not who. What.”

  She frowned, waiting for him to elaborate.

  “I need you to trust me,” he said softly.

  His big hand cupped her face and she could see the plea in his eyes. This man was worried about her.

  “I do trust you,” she assured him.

  “Then pack your stuff. I’ll explain everything on the way.”

  Though she wasn’t keen on the idea, Penelope couldn’t detect any deceit from Obsidian. And while she couldn’t feel his emotions like she did others’, there was a connection between them. One that told her she’d be wise to do as he requested, if for no other reason than to save her own life.

  “Fine. But you have to promise to answer all my questions. No evading.”

  “I promise.”

  Comfortable he would remain true to his word, Penelope hurried to her bedroom, stunned when she opened her closet to see everything exactly as it should be. All her clothes, her shoes … no damage whatsoever.

  “This is crazy,” she whispered, snagging her suitcase.

  Really, really crazy.

  WHILE PENELOPE PACKED HER THINGS, OBSIDIAN STEPPED out into the hall to call Reidar.

  “We’re out of here. Tonight,” he informed his ladeare.

  “Wow. That was fast.”

  A quick rundown of the destruction to Penelope’s apartment, as well as his dealings with the impietans he’d encountered was all it took to have Reidar’s full attention.

  “Shit. All right. I’ll have Gryffyth and Alden pack everything up. Gerran and I will be right behind you.”

  “Send Asmia, Acadia, and Taayin ahead,” Obsidian instructed. “I want the mansion on lockdown. Have them check and recheck everything. Let the heurosp know to prepare it for our arrival.”

  “Will do.”

  Obsidian paced down the hall, lowered his voice. “One more thing, Reidar. Before you head out, I need you to grab the brother.”

  “Grab him?” Reidar’s tone reflected his amusement.

  “I don’t care what you have to do. Knock him out if necessary, but bring him to the mansion and make sure Seraphina’s not on your ass.”

  “All right. Mind if I ask why?”

  “She’s involved for a reason. Either to torture Penelope or use him against her. He’s safer with us.”

  “Understood. Will you make it by sunrise?”

  “Night’s not long enough.” Being a nine-hour drive, they’d already lost too much of the dark. “We’ll get as far as we can before the sun comes up. I’ll keep you updated.”

  “We’ll stick close,” he replied.

  After tucking his phone in his pocket, Obsidian walked into Penelope’s apartment. She was grabbing a handful of books along with her iPad, stuffing them into a duffel bag.

  “Ready?”

  She glanced around once more, then nodded. “I think so.”

  “We’ll need to take your car back to the hotel.”

  When she agreed, Obsidian retrieved her keys from the hook near the door, then took her suitcase and the duffel bag while she grabbed her purse. A few minutes later, he was crammed behind the wheel of her tiny Honda.

  “Okay, time to spill it,” Penelope stated, her attention directly ahead. “I’ve tossed it around in my head and come up with… I don’t even know what to think.”

  He glanced her way briefly, confused as to where she was going with this train of thought.

  “The fangs, the glowing eyes, that whole teleporting thing. Then there was the snappy cleanup. My first thought is vampire.”

  “Not a vampire,” he assured her.

  “No? But the fangs. Okay, fine. What then?”

  Obsidian kept his eyes on the road. “Angel.”

  Though he expected some sort of disbelieving retort, Penelope made no such sound.

  He cut his gaze to her momentarily to see she was staring out the windshield.

  “An angel? A real angel? From Heaven?”

  “Yes.”

  “Here? On Earth?”

  “Yes.”

  She was silent for a moment. “I thought you were in a motorcycle gang.”

  The words were spoken so softly, he doubted she intended for him to hear them. But Obsidian did and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “Motorcycle gang?”

  Her head swung toward him. “The tattoo, glasses. The brooding. Angels of Darkness. Don’t tell me I’m the first person to make that assumption.”

  No, she wasn’t.

  “Then I thought vampire.” Her head twisted toward him. “Do vampires exist?”

  There was a hint of hope in her voice. “Yes.”

  “Werewolves?”

  He nodded.

  “Holy crap.”

  By the time they reached the parking garage at the casino, Obsidian could tell Penelope’s brain was working overtime. After helping her into his car, he transferred her stuff to the trunk, then eased in behind the wheel. His fingers gripped the steering wheel lovingly before starting the engine and throwing it into reverse.

  A few minutes later, they were heading out of the city.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Colorado.”

  Her head snapped over. “Are you serious?”

  “I can’t lie to you, remember?”

  “Right.” Her attention focused out the window for a moment before she reached for her purse. “I need to call my brother. Let him—”

  Obsidian gently took the cell phone from her hand, not wanting to alarm her. “You can’t call him.”

  “What? Why?”

  He exhaled slowly as he removed the battery from the phone.

  “Hey!”

  “I can’t risk them tracking you. I need to get you to safety first.”

  “Who…? Or rather, what? You said it wasn’t a who. So, what do you think’s tracking me?”

  Glancing over at her, Obsidian met her gaze, held it. “Demons.”

  A rough laugh exploded out of her. “Demons? Are you crazy?”

  “I wish I was.” He focused on the road laid out before them, put his foot to the floor when there was a break in traffic.

  “If what you say is true—”

  “It is.”

  “Okay,” she huffed. “If demons are after me, then tell me why. What do they want with me?”

  Figuring he had to get the information out sooner rather than later, Obsidian leaned back in his seat, relaxed. “Remember how I told you your soul’s destined for mine?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, the Fates have a list—”

  “Who are the Fates?”

  “Adorah, Nevaeh, and Karma. Angels. The Fates. They’re responsible for pairing souls, watching over them.” He peered at her, then back to the road. “Anyway. They keep lists of all souls that’ve been paired. Those lists are carefully guarded. Or they’re supposed to be. The list for the Angels of Darkness … those of us who’re here on Earth … somehow it got into Lucifer’s hands.”

  “Lucifer? You mean Satan? As in the devil?”

  “One and the same, yes. He got his hands on the list and he’s ordered the execution of the amsouelots belonging to me and my brothers.”

  “Amsouelot? What does that mean?”

  “Soul mate.”

  She nodded her head. “Why would he do that?”

  Obsidian stared at the darkened road. “Payback.”

  “For what?”

  “A number of things. The fact that we work for Michael, who he despises. Or because we take out his minions for a living. Who knows. There’s no rationalizing what Lucifer does.”

  “You work for Michael? The archangel?”

  He nodded.

  “I really need to call my brother,” she said after a few minutes of silence.

  “He’s being taken car
e of,” Obsidian assured her.

  Obviously that wasn’t the right thing to say, because Penelope twisted in her seat so fast the move surprised him.

  “What do you mean he’s being taken care of? Are you going to kill him?”

  “What?” He glanced her way, frowned. “No. Of course not.”

  She relaxed. “Oh. Thank God. What’re you doing with him?”

  “He’s being picked up.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, for starters, the female he’s shacking up with … she’s a demon.”

  “I knew there was something off about her.”

  Her lack of surprise by the revelation made Obsidian smile.

  “Is that who destroyed my apartment? Demons?”

  “Yes. Under the orders of Perfidious.”

  “Perfidious?” She chuckled. “That sounds terrifying.”

  “He’s not a boy scout.”

  “So why’d they destroy everything? Why didn’t they just kill me?”

  “Perfidious likes to play games, but more than likely, they’d intended to. Since you weren’t home…”

  She gasped. Evidently she hadn’t considered that outcome.

  “I’m not willing to wait around for him to make his next move,” he continued. “Once you’re safe, I’ll deal with him.”

  “You said there’s a list. How many are on this list?”

  “Seven, including you.”

  “And the others?”

  “My brothers are out looking for them. It’s the only reason we separated. The sooner we’re back together, the better off we’ll be.”

  “And when you’re not out looking for your soul mates… When you said you worked in protection, you meant on a grand scale, huh?”

  He peered over at her once more. “Yes. I protect humanity from demons.”

  Penelope sighed. “My dad warned me I’d meet some strange people in Vegas.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Saturday, July 27, 2019

  FINDING THE BROTHER HADN’T TAKEN MUCH EFFORT.

  Getting him away from the demon had been another story altogether.

  Luckily Reidar had a few tricks up his sleeve.

  After making a call, pretending to be one of his co-workers who needed some information, Reidar managed to lure Oliver Calazans out of his apartment.