Violin is my favorite instrument—I play myself—and while I watch him, I itch to play so badly. Hopefully Teresa has a violin at her house. If not, I’ll have to figure out how to acquire one. After all, I need to do something to relax my mind and help me think on this mission. Playing music is the perfect solution. Especially since Adriana used to play herself. She isn’t as talented at it as I am, but that’s certainly something I can hide.
Now I’m waiting in line for the bathroom, and my head is starting to clear. I look in the mirror and see my reflection—a plastic halo glows around my head, and my cheeks are flushed from dancing. Sofia’s friends showed up soon after the waitress dropped off our humungous drink… how long had we been dancing and watching the show?
I glance down at my watch, and my eyes widen at the time. I’ve wasted hours at this party—hours that could have been spent moving forward with my mission. This is unacceptable. I can’t think of an explanation for how this happened other than that I allowed the curse to take over. I was having fun, and at the taste of it, I wanted more.
But I have to fight it. I have to get home.
I finish in the bathroom and push through the crowd to get to our table. Sofia’s dancing on top of it with one of the guys we apparently met last night. Their bodies are so entangled that it’s difficult to see where she stops and he begins.
“Adriana!” She waves from over his shoulder. “There you are! Come dance with us.”
Her friends reach forward to help me up, but I don’t take their hands.
“It’s late,” I yell up to Sofia, pointing at my watch. “I have to get home!”
“But the party’s not over!” She kneels so she can talk without screaming. “And I’m not even close to being sober enough to drive.”
She has a good point, and I don’t want her driving drunk. But the longer I stay here, the more I fear being affected by the curse. I need to leave. I don’t want to abandon Sofia, but her friends are here—they’ll make sure she gets home safely.
“I’m going to walk home—it’s only a few blocks,” I tell her. “You’ll be okay without me, right?”
“You’re leaving?” Sofia asks, shocked. “Are you sure?”
I feel someone’s hand on my butt, and I glance over my shoulder, meeting eyes with some guy I’ve never seen before. I slap his hand away, and he calls me a bitch before hurrying toward another group of unsuspecting girls.
“Yes, I’m sure.” I look around, feeling suddenly confined by the flashing lights and thumping music. It’s too busy, and too loud. “Have fun, and I’ll see you later!”
I give her a quick hug and hurry through the restaurant, finally able to breathe again once I’m out of there.
As I walk through the casino, I contemplate my predicament. Sofia has no idea where to find a witch. So who should I ask? I look around, knowing I should figure this out now, but I’m exhausted. Adriana must not have slept well the night before. I hadn’t been able to fully shake off the hangover I’d woken up with, and I’d just spent all day drinking and partying.
All I want is to go back to Teresa’s house and get a good night’s sleep.
Then I’ll wake up refreshed and ready to figure out how to find a witch in the morning.
Chapter Nine
The walk home is only a few blocks, but the sun is starting to set. I can’t get rid of the feeling that someone’s following me. But every time I turn around, no one’s there. I must be paranoid.
Still, I walk faster, eager to get back to the house.
As I get closer, there are less and less people on the streets, until I’m the only one walking. I’m a block away when someone turns the corner ahead, nearly crashing into me. We stop walking, and I stare up at him, hardly able to breathe. He’s incredibly attractive—tall, with dark shaggy hair and ice-blue eyes—but his looks aren’t what’s taking my breath away. It’s the way he’s looking at me.
As if he’s been searching for me his entire life, and has just now finally found me.
“Julia?” he asks, sounding completely spellbound.
My gaze is trapped in his, and I don’t know what to say. Clearly, he’s mistaking me for someone else. And for reasons I don’t understand—since obviously I’ve never met this man before—I can’t help but feel disappointed.
Whoever Julia is, she’s lucky to have someone who cares for her so much.
“No,” I tell him, despite wishing I were this person he’s searching for. “I’m Re—” I pause, realizing I almost introduced myself with my own name. I almost said Rebekah. “I’m Adriana.”
“Oh,” he says. “You just look so much like…” He studies me, as if he’s waiting for me to recognize him—or like he’s waiting for me to say that yes, I am this Julia he’s asking about.
Perhaps Adriana’s met him before? But no… that can’t be possible. If she had, he would know her name.
“Never mind,” he says, the dazed look leaving his eyes. “You just remind me of someone… but that’s impossible. She couldn’t be here. I must have mistaken you for someone else.”
“Sorry,” I say, even though I have nothing to apologize for.
He continues staring at me, and I glance around to see if anyone else is nearby. They’re not. It’s only the two of us, and the sun’s nearly set.
I should make an excuse and be on my way. But something about him… I can’t put my finger on it, but something about him is different.
“You shouldn’t be on the streets by yourself after dark,” he says casually. “Where are you heading?”
“If I shouldn’t be on the streets after dark, why should I tell you where I’m going?” I ask with a small smile. “Isn’t that even more dangerous?”
“Touché.” He smirks. “But you shouldn’t be afraid of me.”
“Who says I’m afraid of you?” I tilt my head, pushing away a strand of hair that falls in front of my eye. “Although since we’ve never met, I shouldn’t exactly trust you, either.”
“You should,” he says quickly. “Trust me, I mean.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because I would never hurt you.” He says it so seriously that I automatically believe him.
Now I’m the one who watches him, my breath taken away again. Why is this stranger having such a big effect on me?
“I’m on my way home.” I motion around the corner. “It’s close.”
“I’ll walk you,” he says. “Make sure you get there safe.”
“Okay.” I swallow and follow his lead. I could be making a mistake by trusting him, but I’m more comfortable walking with him than walking alone. I no longer feel like someone’s watching me. I feel safe.
“You live with your family?” he asks, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket.
“With my sister and her husband,” I answer. “I moved in with her two weeks ago.”
“Makes sense,” he says. “If you’d been here longer, I would have noticed. I would never forget a face like yours.”
I don’t know what to say to that. Again, I feel bad that I’m not the person he hoped I was—Julia.
We walk for a few seconds without speaking.
“Why did you move here?” he asks, breaking the silence. “Did something happen to your parents?”
“No,” I tell him. “Nothing like that. My parents live in Sector Six, and now that I’m old enough, I wanted a change of scenery. So I moved in with my sister in the city.” I stop walking, resting my hand on the gate that leads to Teresa’s house. “This is me,” I say, although I don’t move to enter. Instead, I look up at him, waiting for I don’t know what.
All I know is that I’m not ready to leave.
“Well, Adriana,” he says, emphasizing my name. “Meeting you has been… a pleasure. I’m glad you decided to move here.”
“Thanks,” I say, and then I chuckle, realizing how awkward that reply was. “I mean, I’m glad I met you, too.”
That wasn’t much better. But he’s
apparently amused, because he smiles. Not just a small smile, but the kind that reaches his eyes.
“Be safe.” He reaches forward, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
I stand frozen. As his skin brushes mine, heat travels all the way down to my toes. I must look as spellbound as he was earlier. But before I can figure out how to respond, he turns around, and as quickly as he appeared, he’s gone.
It’s only once I’m inside that I realize—I never saw the color of his tattoos.
Chapter Ten
I spend the next day walking through the city, trying to pick up any signs about where I might find a witch. After Sofia’s warning yesterday, I don’t ask anyone about witches, but I try my best to observe everything I can.
I find nothing that helps me.
There are either no witches left in the city, or they’ve done a fantastic job of going into hiding. I assume it’s the latter. Because if there are no witches in the city, why would I have been sent here at all?
There must be something I’m missing.
I head home before sunset, remembering the mysterious stranger’s advice that I shouldn’t walk the streets alone after dark. I also feel like an idiot for not asking for his name.
But I’m trying not to think too much about him. After all, as an angel, I’m supposed to be above basic human impulses like being affected by a handsome stranger. Whatever I felt for him couldn’t have been real.
Those feelings must have been caused by that potent Heaven & Hell drink I had at brunch. Because while angels love humans, and sometimes even fool around with them while on missions, we don’t fall in love with them. Those who do are severely punished. They’re cast out of Heaven and become fallen angels—demons.
I shiver at the thought. But I push away the worry, because I’m getting ahead of myself. All I did was acknowledge beauty, which is far from forbidden. Appreciating the beauty in God’s creations is equivalent to praising Him, and certainly nothing to be ashamed about.
How ridiculous of me to jump from admiring a beautiful man to worrying about falling in love with him.
But if I see that man again, I will find out his name. Especially because—for some reason I can’t pinpoint—I have a feeling that he’s important to my mission.
I arrive home and have dinner with Teresa and Marco, allowing them to lead the conversation. The less I say, the less likely it is that they’ll realize I’m not Adriana. Teresa looks at me a few times in concern, and I worry that she’s onto me, but she seems to believe my excuse that I’m tired from a day of shopping. It isn’t completely a lie, since I did buy a few things so I could speak with the shopkeepers.
I’m glad when I’m finally upstairs and alone in my room, because after a day of wandering around and discovering nothing, it’s harder and harder to push away the tendrils of defeat creeping into my soul.
And so, I drop to my knees beside my bed and pray for an answer from God. Well, not an answer, since God doesn’t come down from Heaven and answer prayers directly. He doesn’t communicate with messenger angels at all—he communicates with seraph angels like Uriel, who then deliver messages to us. But I do pray for a sign, or a push in the right direction.
I’m nearly finished with my prayers when there’s a knock on the door.
I jolt up, panicked, because all forms of religion are banished here. Demon worship is all that’s acceptable—specifically the worship of Ezekiel. I cannot be caught praying.
So I jump into bed and pick up the closest book on my nightstand—a self-help book about dating from the early twenty-first century.
“Come in,” I say, opening the book to a random page and trying to relax.
Teresa comes in, looking worried. “Hey.” She wraps her arms around herself and glances around the room. “Do you have a few minutes to talk?”
“Yeah, sure.” I shut the book and put it back on the nightstand. “What’s up?”
She closes the door and situates herself on the foot of my bed. “I got a concerning call from Aunt Carmen today,” she says, and I’m grateful that Uriel briefed me enough that I know Aunt Carmen is Sofia’s mother—Adriana’s mom’s sister.
“About what?” I sit up in panic. Did I make a mistake by not staying at the restaurant yesterday and waiting to leave with Sofia? Did she drive drunk—despite saying she wouldn’t—and get in an accident? “Is Sofia okay?”
“Sofia’s fine,” Teresa says, and I immediately relax. She presses her lips together and continues, “I hope you know that Sofia cares about you, and that you won’t take what I’m about to tell you out on her.”
“What happened?” I ask, getting nervous again.
“Sofia told Aunt Carmen that you asked her about witches yesterday at brunch,” Teresa says. “It scared her, and she’s worried about you.”
I sit there, shocked. Sofia tattled on me? Why would she do that? And how am I supposed to explain this to Teresa?
“I assured Aunt Carmen that it’s nothing to worry about,” she continues before I can work out a response. “But Adriana… you’ve never shown any interest in witches before. Why are you asking about them now?”
“Dating,” I spurt out, glancing at the book on my nightstand and remembering the lie I told Sofia yesterday. “Sofia has such good luck with dating—I joked about her maybe having help from a witch. Like love spells, or potions or something. But that’s all it was—a joke. I promise.”
The lie sits heavy on my tongue. I hate lying to Teresa, since she seems to truly want the best for Adriana. But she also seems like a good person, and the last thing I want is to bring her into this and potentially put her in danger.
Her brows knit together—she doesn’t look convinced. “If there’s another reason… I hope you know you can talk to me,” she says. “I understand if you’re curious about these things. And I promise I won’t judge you for it.”
She seems to truly mean it. Which makes me wonder—is Teresa the sign I prayed for? Does she have information about how I can find a witch?
I find that hard to believe. She’s so calm and levelheaded—she’s not the type of person who would be involved with such things.
But she did enter my room right when I was finishing praying.
That could be a sign from God that I’m meant to ask Teresa for guidance. It would make sense for Him to instruct me to possess someone who’s living with a person who can help me.
I need to have faith in Him and see what information—if any—Teresa might have.
“How can you say that?” I ask her. “What do you know about witches?”
“I know more than you think.” She sighs, as if the confession pains her. “And I can answer your questions. But I have a feeling you weren’t asking Sofia about witches because you’re curious about a silly love spell. And if I’m going to answer your questions, I need you to be honest with me about why you were asking her about witches at all.”
Chapter Eleven
This is my chance to find a witch. It must be.
I have to trust Teresa—and I have to trust God.
So I quickly send Him a prayer, letting Him know that I trust Him. I hope I’m doing the right thing.
“You’re right,” I admit. “I didn’t ask Sofia about witches because I was interested in a love spell.”
“Thank you for being honest with me.” Teresa nods, her eyes warm and caring, and she waits for me to continue.
I fidget, not knowing where to start. “You said you can answer my questions,” I say, since I need to get more information before telling her anything that resembles the truth. “But how can you be so sure about that? Do you know any witches?”
“I do,” she says, her expression serious. “In fact, I’m very close with one. Closer than you might imagine. But, Adriana—I’m putting a lot on the line by trusting you with this. You have to promise not to mention this to anyone—not even Mom and Dad. Okay?”
“I promise,” I say, and it’s an easy promise to make, since I intend
to complete my mission and vacate Adriana’s body as soon as possible. “How do you know this witch?” I ask. “Is there a way you can arrange for me to meet her?”
“Perhaps.” Teresa glances away from me, and then returns her gaze to mine. “But first I need to know why you want to speak to a witch to begin with.”
“I just… need their help with something,” I say, playing with the edge of my comforter. “I need to reverse a spell.”
She presses her lips together, studying me. “That’s vague,” she says. “I was hoping you would tell me more than that.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “But—you said you know a witch. Wouldn’t it be more helpful if I’m able to talk to her?”
“It would be.” Teresa stares at a painting on my wall—one of palm trees swaying on a beach. Her eyes are far off, and I can tell she’s deep in thought. “Adriana,” she finally says. “You’re my sister, and you know the only reason I would ever keep something from you is for your own safety, right?”
“Right,” I say, even though I don’t know enough about their relationship to tell if that’s the truth or not.
“Good.” She nods and wrings her hands together. “Well… there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to spit it out.”
I watch her, waiting for her to continue.
“I don’t just know a witch,” she says, holding her gaze with mine. “It’s more than that. You see… I am a witch.”
Chapter Twelve
“You what?” I lean back in shock. Teresa is the last person who could ever be a witch. She’s the opposite of everything witches represent.
How can this be true?
“I’m a witch,” she repeats, and then she lowers her eyes, picking at her fingernails. When she refocuses on me, her gaze is full of resolve. “This might be easier to explain if I start from the beginning.”
Demon Kissed (Cursed Angel Collection) Page 3