Protected in Darkness (Misplaced Halos, 1)

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Protected in Darkness (Misplaced Halos, 1) Page 20

by Nicole Edwards

“You have more than one library?”

  “We have a lot of books,” he said, the corner of his mouth tilting upward in a smirk. “And this leads to the main floor.”

  “Are these”—she glanced at all the openings leading out of the foyer—“doors?”

  “They are,” Obsidian confirmed.

  It seemed odd this day and age considering the whole open-concept theme everyone had taken on.

  Then it hit her. “To keep the sun out.”

  “Yes.” Obsidian exhaled slowly. “The doors are an added precaution, kept closed during the day in the event the front doors were to be opened.”

  “Can the heurosp go out during the day?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “They’re human.”

  Ah. Humans taking care of angels. Not quite what she expected. Then again, nothing was as she’d expected.

  Penelope turned to face him. “What happens if you’re exposed to sunlight?”

  Obsidian removed his sunglasses, his molten silver gaze settling on her face. “We’ll burn. And yes, it will kill us.”

  She studied him for a moment, still unsure how to process all of this information. It was one thing to read about it in fiction. Something totally different to encounter it in real life.

  Before she could ask another question, Obsidian urged her toward a short staircase that led down to a spacious hallway lined with the same stone pillars she’d seen out front. A beautiful aqua-blue and gold rug ran the entire length, several pieces of furniture sitting atop it, as well as a few doors recessed between the columns on both sides, turning what should’ve been a hall into another room.

  “You mentioned you had dogs,” she said casually, wondering if they were inside.

  “We do. I’m sure they’re around here somewhere.”

  Obsidian guided her down the hallway with his hand resting on the small of her back. They emerged through what passed as the mouth of the rest of the house.

  The space opened up completely. Probably seventy or eighty feet wide, ceilings at least three stories high, more paved stone walls, rich hardwood floors, decorative beams overhead. The second floor above was ringed with the same wrought iron balusters as the front staircase, the space brightly lit, though there wasn’t a single window.

  An enormous stone fireplace was the centerpiece of the main floor, rising high above and dividing the large living area and the kitchen on the other side. The furniture in here had a Tuscan vibe. Rich, dark wood chairs with rolled arms and cabriole legs embraced the scrolling acanthus leaf details on the beige cushions. Two matching sofas sat atop a rich blue rug that popped against the light fabric on the furniture. It felt more like a lobby than a living room. The kind where you’d expect to see men wearing suits smoking cigars and drinking bourbon.

  On the perimeter of the space, more rooms fanned out from the center, all dark.

  “I’m assuming Jeffrey’s not the only person who works here?” Penelope asked as they continued toward the kitchen.

  “No. There’re roughly a dozen heurosp.”

  “And the translation?”

  “I think the politically correct term is household employees,” he said with a chuckle.

  Penelope stopped when she’d passed the fireplace, her eyes widening as she took it all in. There was a massive square island, at least eight feet in both directions, that sat with honor in the middle of the space. Barstools lined gray cabinets on two sides, a deep sink the only disruption in the large slab of white granite with its delicate wisps of gray tying in the colors. On the outer walls, the color scheme was flipped. White cabinets with gray granite tops formed long rows beneath open shelving and more cabinets. Four ovens, an eight-burner stovetop and two microwaves were on the left side, and on the right an industrial-sized refrigerator and freezer.

  “That’s a … a lot of appliances.”

  “It takes a lot to feed the masses,” he replied, taking her hand once more.

  “How many live here?”

  “The mansion was built to house us all. Roughly sixty, including the Fae. Then you add in the heurosps.”

  Her attention shot to Obsidian. “Seventy plus people? Under one roof?”

  “I assure you, it’s big enough.”

  Whether by intention or simply chance, the entire house appeared to be vacant. Aside from Jeffrey, Penelope didn’t encounter another person during the brief tour. On a positive note, those heurosps had earned their paycheck because the countertops were waxed to a shine, the stainless-steel gleaming in the decorative pendant lights overhead.

  They kept going, passing an enormous dining room off to the right, occupied by a long, wide wooden table to seat two dozen, the stucco walls decorated with dark-trimmed pictures and a couple of sconces that likely dated back to the Middle Ages. The ceiling was lower in there, three wrought iron chandeliers similar in design to the other light fixtures hanging over the table.

  “Do you have meals in there?”

  “That’s the breakfast nook,” Obsidian stated. “The formal dining room holds everyone comfortably.”

  Breakfast nook. For two dozen.

  Wow.

  Without elaborating further, Obsidian tugged her toward a short set of steps that led up into an enormous sunroom that concluded the main-floor entertainment area.

  “We spend a lot of time in here,” he informed her, stepping up behind her as she scanned the space.

  This room was far more relaxed than the rest she’d seen, even wider than the kitchen space. Though the decor continued with the Mediterranean theme, it felt homier. A nice place to relax and chill. Big enough for several small seating areas, as well as six full-sized sofas, three on each side of the fireplace shaped into U’s to allow people to congregate comfortably. Thick rugs sat beneath the furniture, covering the hardwood, while there were televisions mounted on both sides of the fireplace, making two separate areas.

  Heavy navy-blue drapes hung from thick iron rods, pulled back to reveal a solid wall of doors that appeared to retract completely, bringing the outside in should Obsidian and his housemates choose. The room overlooked a multilevel pool currently glittering pink and purple.

  “Not the colors I’d expect for a manly property,” Penelope teased.

  “Asmia’s the one who plays with the lights. She changes them nightly.”

  “Asmia? Is she an angel, too?”

  “Fae.”

  She glanced out the doors, seeing the mountains in the distance. “So, you live here, but who owns this place?”

  “Technically, it belongs to a company we set up.”

  Turning to face him, she realized he was a couple of steps lower, their height distance not so dramatic like this. “So you own it?”

  His gaze shifted away. “I actually don’t exist, Penelope. Not in your human world, anyway.”

  “That makes sense. Probably not easy to categorize angels on birth certificates, huh?”

  His attention returned to her, his eyes once more covered by his sunglasses. “I know you have questions, Penelope.”

  Oh, she definitely did. Far more than she knew what to do with.

  Obsidian cupped her face as he leaned toward her, pressed his lips to hers. The kiss went from zero to outer space in a matter of milliseconds. She gripped his biceps, her hunger for him blazing anew. It had been intensifying with every passing second since they’d left the hotel room, but now it was as though someone had hit the switch, turning her into an inferno of need.

  Had it not been for someone clearing their throat, perhaps Penelope would’ve let Obsidian take her right there in the sunroom.

  She pulled away from Obsidian, then shrieked when her gaze landed on perhaps the most beautiful woman in the known universe standing just a little too close for comfort. She was so striking, she appeared almost imaginary.

  “Acadia,” Obsidian greeted kindly. “Meet Penelope. Penelope, this is Acadia, one of the Fae.”

  Acadia curtsied before her, an archaic form of greeting that she made appea
r as natural as breathing.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my queen.”

  Even her voice was otherworldly.

  “The formalities aren’t necessary,” Obsidian told her. “Where’s Zeus and Aphrodite?”

  Acadia peered around as though she expected them to be behind her. “No idea. But I can find them for you.”

  “Please.”

  Acadia stood tall, her amethyst eyes meeting Penelope’s briefly before turning to Obsidian. “May I prepare the feast now?”

  Obsidian cleared his throat. “Not yet. Find Asmia and Taayin. Have them meet us in the library in ten minutes. Reidar’s not far behind.”

  “Of course.” Acadia looked back at her briefly, then vanished.

  Penelope inhaled sharply, taking a step back. “I think warnings should come with that move.”

  Obsidian laughed. “I’ll be sure to let them know.”

  Hesitantly, she turned her eyes on him. “Is she the Fae you feed from?”

  “She is,” he admitted, though he seemed to be waiting for her reaction.

  It took effort, but she managed to keep her expression passive, even as she acknowledged there was no way she could watch that. That woman, fairy, whatever, made her look like…

  “It’s not like that, Penelope,” Obsidian stated, his voice low, insistent, as though he’d read her mind. Then again, he probably had.

  “Yeah, well, try telling that to my insecurity,” she muttered, hating that she was jealous, but she pushed it down because it wasn’t important. “What else do they do?” she asked, proud her voice remained level. “Cook? Clean?”

  “No. That’s what the heurosp are here for. They manage the house. The Fae are here to serve the fiestreigh only.”

  Oh, God. That didn’t sound good. “Serve? That doesn’t sound like they’re only a blood source.”

  Obsidian looked away. “It’s a give-and-take. They also tend to the fiestreigh’s sexual needs. The Fae feed on emotions—”

  Penelope took a step back from Obsidian. “You have sex with them?”

  Okay, yeah, it was possible she was going to be sick.

  “I do not.” He peered down at her, his eyes still concealed. “There’s a lot of information about us you’ve yet to understand. Hopefully, once I’ve had the opportunity to fill you in, it’ll make more sense.”

  She wasn’t so sure of that.

  OBSIDIAN CONTINUED TO SHOW PENELOPE AROUND THE first floor. The laundry, the main-floor office, access to two additional staircases as well as exits. After he’d given her a glimpse at the indoor pool, they returned to the kitchen, then onward to the back of the house. He hadn’t intended to give her a full tour, but Obsidian had sensed she needed a distraction from the information she’d ascertained. For whatever reason, she was not keen on the idea of the Fae being used in a sexual manner.

  Then again, humans viewed sex a bit differently than they did.

  “Dare I ask where your private quarters are?” Penelope said after he’d shot a text to Taayin, informing the lieterra he needed a bit more time before their meeting.

  The male shot a message back, assuring him he would be available whenever they were ready.

  “The house was built specifically for our needs,” he informed her. “My brothers and I each have our own private quarters on the third floor.”

  “Three floors?”

  “Yes.”

  Tugging her toward him, Obsidian started down the hall that led to the back staircase.

  “Where do those go?” Penelope gestured toward the stairs leading down.

  “We have an underground facility. Training space, weight room, recreational area.”

  “But no elevator, huh?” She giggled softly. “Then again, probably not necessary with that whole poofing thing you can do.”

  The teasing tone had him peering her way, noticing the glint in her beautiful gold eyes. The fact that she was joking lightened his steps. He’d seen the concern, felt it even, for the fact that he fed from Acadia. He’d also seen the way she recoiled at the thought.

  Granted, had Obsidian been in her shoes, he wasn’t sure he would have handled it as gracefully as she had.

  “There are two elevators,” he informed her.

  “Of course there are.” She took a deep breath, followed him up the stairs, beyond the second floor, and up to the third.

  He motioned to the left. “There’s a theater that way, as well as access to the veranda. And over here,” he continued, leading her to the wing on the right, “my brothers and I occupy this space. We each have our private quarters, but we have our own separate living room and game room.”

  Obsidian paused, using his palm print to unlock the door.

  “Why does it require security?”

  “Our lieterras have access, but it’s mostly for our privacy.”

  Once they’d made it through the door, it sealed shut behind them and he sent a text to Taayin, informing him to update the security to include Penelope’s prints and iris scan for all secured areas.

  Obsidian smiled when he heard the familiar sound of Zeus panting excitedly. When they turned the corner into the open living room, he saw both dogs sitting obediently.

  “Meet Zeus and Aphrodite,” he told Penelope, followed by a command for both to come to him.

  Tails wagging excitedly, they both trotted over, then sat once again, staring up at Penelope as though she was the only light in their darkest days.

  “They’re beautiful,” Penelope said reverently, her head turning to him briefly. “May I pet them?”

  “They’ll be forever in your debt if you do,” he warned with a smile.

  When Penelope went to her knees before the dogs, Obsidian was overwhelmed by that strange sensation in his chest. He’d come to recognize it as love. Seeing his amsouelot petting Zeus and Aphrodite while talking to them made him happy.

  “Where do they sleep?” she asked when she got to her feet.

  “Wherever they want, basically.” He motioned toward two dog beds tucked near the end of the sofa. “You’ll find many of those throughout the house.”

  “They’re not locked up here?” she asked.

  “No. They have free roam of the house. There are dog doors throughout. They come and go as they please.”

  Taking Penelope’s hand once again, Obsidian commanded Zeus and Aphrodite to go downstairs, then led Penelope through the living room toward one of the many hallways that branched off of it. His female was glancing around, her mouth hanging open as she took in the stone and gaslit lamps mounted every few feet down the wide hallway.

  “Are those motion sensored?”

  “They are.”

  “They don’t look electric.”

  “They’re not. We use gas in the event the electricity goes out. The motion sensors are just a few modern conveniences we’ve added.”

  “Very high tech,” she muttered, stopping when they came to the door to his room.

  He opened it with his mind, not thinking anything of it. Before she walked inside, Penelope peered up at him, shot an amused grin.

  “Oh, my God. This is your private quarters?” Her tone was breathless, her mouth agape as she stared at the large space. “It’s enormous.”

  Evidently the heurosps had made a few upgrades since his departure. What had once been a comfortable room to sleep in looked more like a romantic honeymoon suite. The king-size bed sported a thick navy-blue comforter that practically sparkled beneath the lights. The nightstands now held lamps, clocks, and reading material for two rather than one. A seating area had been added, perched neatly in front of the doors that led to the terrace, as well as a large dresser with mirror that matched the chest he used.

  “If this is where you sleep, I’d love to see the bathroom?”

  “You can see whatever you want, but first…” Before she could walk away, Obsidian gripped Penelope’s arm, spun her around, and backed her against the wall, bending down and crushing his mouth to hers. Just as he’d com
e to expect, she lit up in his arms. He’d recognized the familiar heat downstairs when he’d been seconds from dragging her to the floor and tearing her clothes off with his teeth.

  Though they’d indulged in one another numerous times throughout the day in the motel room, it felt as though eons had passed since he’d last had her. The amnigh was intensifying, and since he could smell Penelope’s arousal, Obsidian knew she was feeling it, too.

  His amsouelot’s leg curled around his as she tried to get closer. He obliged, lifting her with ease. “Legs around me.”

  Their mouths realigned as he carried her toward the bed, easing her onto the mattress. Taking a moment, he pulled his mouth from hers, admired her as she lay there.

  “What?” she asked, turning her head to look around.

  “I’ve been waiting for the day you’d be in my bed.”

  Her fingers trailed over his cheekbones, his jaw. “You say that as though I’m the only woman you’ve had here.”

  Once more, he sensed her insecurity. “You are, ayreme. I’ve never had another female in this bed.”

  “Never?”

  “Never.” He placed one knee between her thighs and crawled over her, pressing soft kisses to her jaw, her neck. “You’re my amsouelot, Penelope. The Fates selected you solely for me. My other half.”

  Her strangled laugh had him lifting his head.

  “I find that hard to believe.” Her eyes glittered with vulnerability. “Out of all the women in the entire universe, they picked me?”

  Amused, he kissed her lips. “They did. And I’ve been waiting for you for … a long time.”

  “Exactly how old are you?”

  He swallowed hard, peered down in her eyes as she removed his sunglasses.

  “How old?” she repeated.

  Obsidian fought the urge to slip into her mind to see where she was headed with this.

  “You said you couldn’t lie to me.”

  “And I can’t.”

  “Tell me how old you are, Obsidian,” she whispered, her eyes imploring.

  “I had my two thousandth birthday in June.”

  Her eyes flared briefly. “Two thousand. Wow. You look really good for an antique.”

  “Does it scare you?”

 

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