Releasing the Watcher: The Fallen Angel Trilogy #3

by Kim Loraine

  “They are,” I agree. “Absolute dicks.”

  We sit in silence, both screwing around online until we absolutely have to change into our costumes for the opening number, but her words ring in my mind. Is Adam out there waiting for me? How did he find out I work here? I’ve been so careful to hide this part of me from him.

  When the lights flash three times, we know it’s time to start. Tomorrow we open the show after a one-month hiatus to learn all-new choreography. Nerves always run high the week before we open, and this has been no exception.

  “Let’s get it, girl,” Rosie says as she shimmies her cleavage.

  Letting out a light laugh, I hook my arm in hers, and we stroll to our positions.

  The next night, I’m a ball of nerves, as usual, as I apply my final layer of crimson lipstick and finish off my look with long, fake lashes. I’m barely recognizable from the Selah my friends know. Here, I’m Luscious Lily. And tonight I have my first solo dance.

  “It’s packed tonight!” Rosie grins from ear to ear. “We’ll get so many tips. I heard there’s some bigwig in the audience too.”

  My stomach flips. I try to keep my mind off who might be watching me, and let myself enjoy the show, but when she makes it a point to remind me real people’s eyes are on us, the magic dwindles.

  As soon as the music begins, I switch my brain from the real world to the fantasy I’m trying to create. We sway and swing our hips, all taking our positions on and off the stage. Each of us hides our bodies behind fans with feathers long enough to be from angel wings. My costume is nearly see-through, with only the unmentionable bits of my anatomy covered by strategically placed black appliqués. Everywhere the audience looks, they’ll see sparkle and glitter. It’s a wonderland of sensuality.

  Cheers and whoops echo through the auditorium as we dance to the seductive beat of the music. I smile and make eye contact with a few of the men, some of the ladies too. You never know why someone is here.

  As the night wears on, I’m feeling confident, smiling, and not letting my nerves about my upcoming solo get to me. But, as the number before mine starts, my stomach churns with butterflies. I’ve got five minutes until I’m on stage. Running my hands over the skirt of my costume, I double-check the Velcro fasteners around the waist and stand in the wings, waiting to go on. Taking slow, steady breaths, I scan the audience. My heartbeat picks up when I see him, Sariel, the man I met once at a club but had felt so drawn to. He’s here. The only place I’ve seen him has been in my dreams. Dreams in which the starring role has been replaced by Sam.

  The stage manager motions for me to go on, making me shake my head to clear the swirl of emotion. I can’t focus on Sariel right now. I have to show the director I’ve got what it takes to be a principal.

  Shoulders back and chin high, I strut across the dark stage and take my position.

  Present day, Seattle

  “Sariel, you’ve got to lighten up. Have some fun, for God’s sake. Galen used to be my wingman, but thanks to you, he’s off doing the human, married-with-babies thing. The least you could do is come with me and keep me company.” Devin chuckles. “Wingman. It’s funny because you’re an angel.” His words do nothing but annoy me as he leads me along the brick streets of Pike Place and down to the entrance of The Can-Can. “Come on, everyone loves a good show. This is burlesque. Need I say more?”

  “You have Willow. Why do you need a wingman? And I’m certain having a fiancée means you’re dangerously close to the very human notion of marriage.”

  He lets out a harsh bark of laughter. “I’m not fucking anyone. Willow will be here soon. I’m just picking out our dinner and getting them warmed up so we can feed.”

  “So, I’m helping you kill innocent women?”

  He frowns. “Are you serious? You know we don’t kill them. I’m not willing to sacrifice my newly returned soul for one long feed, especially when it doesn’t even taste good anymore.”

  Relief courses through me. I’m partial to him and Galen both. Sharing a body will do that. “Fine, but I’m not willing to let anyone touch me, understand?”

  He cocks a blond eyebrow as he pushes open the door. “Too bad for you. This show is filled with some of the most beautiful women you’ll ever see.”

  I don’t want any of these women, beautiful or not. I want Selah.

  Of course, Devin has the best seats in the house. Two rows back from the stage, dead center. He says we’ll have a clear view of every performer. I’m hoping we can just keep a low profile. The lights go down in the room, and music fills the air. As the stage is illuminated, three women covered in glittering costumes with big feathered fans stroll across the stage flanked by two well-built men.

  The song is all dirty trumpet and sex as they sway and grind all over each other. It’s sexy, sensual, and before Selah, I might have enjoyed watching.

  “Damn, Willow won’t want either of those guys. She’s got a thing for blonds.” He rakes a hand through his own long, blond hair. “And I don’t like to disappoint my girl.”

  I don’t understand how he copes with seeing Willow’s hand on another man. Even if it is only to feed from him. Just the thought of Selah allowing anyone access to her body makes my blood boil.

  As the show continues, Devin keeps checking his phone and laughing to himself.

  “Have you found who you’re looking for?” I grumble as two dancers catch my eye. They’re sizing me up, and I don’t like it. “I’m ready to leave.”

  “Give me a minute. Willow is almost here. Then you can go.”

  The two women smile and wander across the room, hiding their scantily clad curves behind long, sheer robes. Each of them carries a fan, and as they pass, they take turns stroking my legs with them.

  “Looks like you’ve got a fan club.” Devin grins broadly and laughs. “I swear, sometimes I think I missed my calling. I should be a comedian.”

  I’m about to stand and head for the door, but the lights go down again, and a chill rushes over me when I catch the fain scent of lavender.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, for our last performance of the night, please join us in welcoming, in her first solo performance, Miss Luscious Lily.” The spotlight illuminates a figure dressed in ethereal white. Her gown brushes the floor, a waterfall of sparkle and shimmer as the light catches every small rhinestone and sequin. She’s crouched at the edge of the stage, head bowed, hands flat on the ground. As the music starts, she slides her feet behind her, lifting one in a graceful line as she rolls to her side. Her gown creates a beautiful arc of fabric as she moves.

  When she comes to standing and looks up, my throat constricts and my mouth runs dry as my cock turns to steel.

  I know that mouth, those eyes. She might be wearing a wig and layers of makeup, but the captivating woman moving like every man’s sordid fantasy is my Selah.

  “Whoa there, champ.” Devin grips my elbow and pulls me back to my chair. I hadn’t even realized I was stalking toward her.

  She twirls on the balls of her feet, sending the dress floating around her hips and offering the audience a glance at her thong-covered pussy and practically bare ass.

  Then, as if this wasn’t bad enough, a man dressed in a deep red suit stalks toward her from backstage. My teeth clench and a muscle in my jaw pops as he puts his hands around her waist, pulling her to him and dropping her skirt to the floor.

  All I can do is stand there and watch. Not because I’m helpless, but because she doesn’t know me. Not really. Her firm, round ass is on display, and it’s taking every ounce of my control to keep from groaning. A swell in the music ups the intensity of the dance, her posture changing from innocent to assertive. She shoves the man away and pulls a chair to center stage. Turning to him, she slides her body over his, all the way down and back up. The look on his face makes me livid. It should be me she’s touching. And though this is a choreographed performance, that asshole is enjoying her touch. Of course he fucking is.

  Shoving him into the chair, she
grips his lapels and bends at the waist, her bountiful cleavage directly in his view. Each time he tries to touch her, she slaps his hand. With a swirl of her hips she turns to the audience. A saucy wink at the crowd gets her a round of cheers from everyone but me. And when she wraps one arm over her breasts, her other working at the corset, I know what’s coming, No way in hell is she going to do this,

  I stand again, and Devin hisses, “Sariel, sit your ass down.”

  Her eyes find mine, shock causing her to momentarily falter. Shaking my head, I will her to stop, to save her body for my gaze only. But she blinks and averts her focus, ripping the bodice free and tossing it at me.

  All that’s separating her bare tits from the hundred pairs of eyes is her strategically placed arm. She grins and sashays back to her willing captive. As she moves to drop her arm, giving us a peek-a-boo view of her curves, I groan. I can’t take it any longer.

  Without interference from Devin, I storm the stage, pushing aside the bouncer with little effort. The crowd is yelling and Selah’s eyes narrow, but I scoop her up, toss her over my shoulder, and haul her out of the club.

  “Fuck! What the hell, Sam? Put me down!” I screech as the cold night air hits my bare skin.

  Sam’s silver eyes are blazing with fury as he sets me on my feet and shrugs out of his coat. He slides the fabric over my shoulders, anger rolling off him in waves.

  “What in God’s name possessed you to do this for a living? You want a man? I’m right fucking here. You don’t have to take your clothes off for strangers.”

  He’s chastising me. I don’t do well with that. “I’m not doing this to get a man. I’m a dancer. This is dancing.”

  “No, this is degrading.”

  Rage covers me like a cloak. “It’s only degrading if it makes me feel that way. It’s not about seducing a man. I dance because I love it, because I can escape and just…be.” Shaking my head, I walk back toward the club. “You know what? I don’t have to justify myself to you.”

  Before I get farther than a few steps, his broad chest blocks my passage and those warm hands of his are cupping my cheeks. “Your body is a temple, and the only man who should see it is one willing to worship at your altar. One who is willing to sacrifice everything just to be worthy of you.”

  Oh, good God. What is he talking about? “Are you for real?” I whisper.

  His lips brush across mine, something I’ve felt in dreams but have wanted more than I realized. My knees actually buckle as he deepens the kiss, but he instinctively drops one hand to curve around my waist, holding me against his hard body.

  “Sa— Oh, shit. Sorry.” A deep baritone with a Southern drawl breaks through the haze of our connection, and I pull back.

  “Sariel,” I whisper.

  Sam tightens his hold, a grin spreading his lips until I push away and stare beyond him. The man standing behind Sam wasn’t a figment of my imagination. He’s here. And he knows Sam.

  Sariel’s eyes go wide as our gazes lock. “Shit,” he murmurs.

  “Devin, why aren’t you inside?” A tiny redhead appears from the club’s entrance and slides her hand across Sariel’s broad chest.

  Devin? Looking from her to the man in front of me I fight my frown. I couldn’t possibly have made up that name. Sariel isn’t a name one can mistake for something else. “No. You…you said your name was Sariel.”

  It’s only when the redhead glares at me, her eyes raking my nearly nude form covered by Sam’s jacket, that I remember where I am and what I’m supposed to be pissed about.

  “Wait, I remember you,” she says, a grin turning up her lips. “She’s the one, Sariel?” The woman isn’t directing her question at the man who belongs to that name. She’s looking straight at Sam.

  “Sam? What the fuck is going on here?”

  Sam pulls a hand through his tawny hair. “This isn’t the place.”

  Frustration sets my jaw and sends me from teetering on the edge of rage to over the damn cliff. How dare he treat me like I’m the one causing a problem. “Look, you’re the asshole who kidnapped me in the middle of a performance, and now you have the nerve to make it seem like my question isn’t appropriate? I’m out here freezing my ass off in my goddamn lingerie with sparkly pasties covering my nipples. Somebody needs to explain to me why she called you Sariel when that other guy introduced himself to me as Sariel months ago.”

  My whole body quakes with cold and when Sam…wait, Sariel, puts his arm around me, I don’t fight it. His lips slide over my earlobe as he whispers, “I’m taking you home.”

  Dropping the coat to the ground, I shrug out of his grasp even though my whole body screams at me to stay in his arms. He feels good, right, like I belong with him.

  “Selah, wait.”

  I storm toward the door, self-conscious for the first time since I was in college, as my full breasts sway and bounce. Sariel’s large palm encircles my wrist, and he tugs me backward. “Let go of me,” I grumble.

  “No. We’re leaving even if I have to carry you to the car. So, Selah, you can either go change into your own clothes and leave with me, or I can hoist you over my shoulder again.”

  “Do yourself a favor and just go with him,” Devin says, amusement coloring his tone. “You don’t know how long he’s been looking for you.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” I shoot back, but Devin and his girlfriend are already walking away, his arm around her shoulders and her hand tucked possessively in his back pocket.

  Sariel’s deep rumble of laughter vibrates against my back as his hand slides across my waist. “So much fire inside such a small package.”

  He’s pissing me the hell off right now, but the sensation of his warm breath against the nape of my neck is doing things to places low in my body…things I’m really going to need to take care of when I get home.

  “Are you going to let me get dressed?” I have to force the words from my throat because I honestly don’t want him to stop touching me.

  His lips brush the shell of my ear, and I shiver as he whispers, “As long as you let me watch you take it all off as soon as we get behind closed doors.” Then, with a nip of teeth, he says, “I’ll meet you out back.”

  Oh, Jesus.

  Taking a shuddering breath, I remove myself from his hold and push through the doors. Without allowing myself to look back, I march across the room, eyes trained on the Staff Only door. Rosie meets me in the hallway, eyes wide and a shocked expression causing her red lips to form a little “O.”

  “What happened out there? Was that some kind of surprise part of your act?”

  My heart is thudding so hard against my ribs, it hurts. Shit. I’m probably about to get fired. “Um…”

  “Management fucking loved it, girl. The sexy alpha god saves his innocent woman. Who is he? I didn’t know we hired a new guy. He’s hot as fuck.”

  “Um…” I reply again.

  Detaching the sparkling red hearts that cover my nipples, I fight a wince at the pull on my oversensitive skin. My breasts are too plentiful to go braless, so after pulling on a midnight-blue sports bra, I tug a pair of yoga pants over my hips and throw on my PLU sweatshirt. Snagging my handbag, I hitch it on my shoulder and stride toward the exit.

  “Um, sweetie, don’t you want to at least take off your lashes?” Rosie asks.

  Heaving a sigh, I nod and settle in front of the wall-length mirror. Gingerly I peel the falsies off my lids and grab some makeup remover and a cotton ball. Sam…shit, Sariel, can wait. Maybe I should make him sweat a bit. But then, he might just come barreling through the door and make good on his threat to carry me bodily from the building.

  Once my face is clean, I head out the employee exit. The light in the alley is burned out, leaving the damp brick walls and cobblestone street bathed in darkness.

  An unfamiliar voice catches my ear as I step out into the night. “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Where did you get that, brother?”

  I open my mouth to call out, but Sa
riel’s angry tone stops me. “Don’t make me do this, Tamiel.”

  Tamiel? What the hell is it with these weird-ass names? My heart jumps into my throat as a bright light burns my eyes as it illuminates the alley. Sariel stands facing me, holding a fucking broadsword, feet planted in a fighting stance as a smaller man approaches.

  “You don’t want to use that on me. Did Michael give you his sword? Poor fallen angel, can’t even use your own power. You can either kill me and end this, or I’ll end your soul mate.” Tamiel’s words are laced with disdain.

  “Stop where you are. You don’t have to die.”

  Die? Who the fuck is this guy?

  “You can’t wield that sword, and you know it. You don’t have enough grace left.”

  I have to stifle my gasp as Sariel raises the sword, and behind him, I swear I see a shadow of two huge wings. He brings the blade down with a grunt, and it makes contact with Tamiel. My stomach rolls, but I can’t look away, expecting to see blood and maybe a severed limb. Instead, that same light burns all around the man until he disappears in a pile of ash and blue smoke which swirls as though it has a life of its own.

  Sariel hangs his head, the glow from the sword fading until all I can see is his now-empty hands and heaving shoulders. He takes two large steps toward me, and I gasp, making my presence known. As his silver eyes meet mine, I lose all hold I had on my self-control. I bolt.

  Present day, Seattle

  What was it Galen always said? Right, fucking hell. I see it the moment Selah’s terrified gaze meets mine. This was not how I wanted her to see me. Cutting down my brother, filled with rage, guilt, anguish, but above all, filled with the light that only comes from using my grace. Yeah, fucking hell just about covers it. Tamiel was right, though, and the proof was in his essence leaving his vampire host body. I don’t have enough grace to smite him, even with Michael’s sword. That won’t be the case much longer.

  “Selah,” I rasp as I rush after her.

  She’s faster than I’d have thought, but her small strides are no match for my long legs. As she glances back at me, her ankle rolls, and, like a scene from a bad movie, her body pitches to the side, falling straight into the street and the path of oncoming traffic.