A_Taste_of_Decadence_ARE

by Blake_Harte_Quinn_Ryan_Rylon

  “Did you feel that?” he asked. His blond hair had come loose from its band, something highly unusual for his stern friend, and it flowed around him.

  “Yeah, all the way across town. Do you know what it was?”

  Ambrose shook his head. “No, I’ve never felt anything like it.”

  Shade’s eyes widened. If someone as ancient as Ambrose was confused, then it might have never happened before. That was downright scary as hell.

  “Well, that doesn’t sound good. What are you doing here? I thought you were out searching for something.” Shade put his helmet away and led the other angel into the living room.

  The house was a nice fit for a bachelor, but not so much for two people; Ambrose was staying with him. But they made it work. The place came furnished with brown couches and rugs with the typical standard fare of Target art and decorations. It suited his purpose just fine since he didn’t plan to stay that long, though if he had any time off, he might do the landlords a favor and fix up the backyard some. In his free time, he liked to create rock formations and landscape structures. His home at the enclave had acres of rocks and waterfall formations that he’d created from granite. He did all the labor, and it gave him an outlet for the fury and darkness that threatened to override his otherwise calm demeanor; a fury he hid so well from others.

  “I came to tell you a bit more about this Lily of yours,” Ambrose answered.

  “She’s not my Lily,” Shade said, then he realized he’d said it a little too rushed.

  Ambrose merely lifted a brow. “Touchy. I see you’ve met her then.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve only seen her through a glass window. I didn’t speak to her.” But, oh, how he wanted to meet her, and then maybe bend her over the coffee counter or spread her over the table to see if she tasted like strawberries. He didn’t know why, but she looked like she’d taste like strawberries. Ripe, sweet strawberries…

  Ambrose gave him a blank stare.

  Oh, shit. Had he said that aloud?

  “So.” Shade cleared his throat. “What else did you find out?”

  Like is she single?

  Really? That was what he was thinking? The entire world might go up in flames because of his dust, and he couldn’t get his mind off a woman with big green eyes. Frustrated with himself, he cursed, then went to the fridge for a beer.

  He pulled one out for himself and handed another beer to Ambrose.

  “I don’t want to know what you’re thinking, but I will say it’s okay to think about another woman.” His tone grew somber. “It’s been long enough. You’ve mourned enough.”

  “That’s funny coming from you. If you didn’t want to know what I was thinking, why did you even bring it up?” His chest hurt at the thought of Ilianya and Cora. He shook it off. He didn’t need to think about them now.

  Ambrose sighed and took a long pull of his beer. “The woman works at an environmental research facility as a lab tech.”

  Shade froze. “Shit.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “What are the odds?”

  “Exactly.”

  “So, I need to get the dust now, but if I do it without her knowing, then they’ll notice it’s missing. I mean, we could just take it and ignore the consequences. If they’ve already done analysis on it…it could be a problem.” Shit, this had just gotten even more complicated.

  Ambrose nodded. “I don’t think we can simply go in and take it. You’re going to have to sway her into giving it to you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Woo her, do something. I already know you want her. Use that.”

  Anger coursed through him. “You want me to use that woman? Who are you?”

  Ambrose’s expression turned to stone. “I’m someone who lost everything in the last wars, and I don’t plan to let anyone else lose their everything. Don’t you understand? We don’t know what she knows. We don’t know who else has the results, or even if she has the results at all. The thing is, the dust won’t just come up as an unknown substance. It’ll be worse. It’s not of this world. The lack of anything normal at all will raise a red flag. We don’t have the luxury of letting that happen. Plus, the lore of our dust has always been entwined with the ability for humans to see magic. I don’t know if that’s true, but it’s something that we can’t risk. We don’t know how the council knows about the dust. All of this reeks of something underhanded. So, use her. Find out what you can, and I will find out what the council knows because something is going on under the surface of this, and I need your head in the game.”

  Shade just stood there. “I know something’s off about this assignment. I don’t think I can use a human like that.”

  “You just think she has a pretty face.”

  “You’re a cold, unemotional ass.”

  “I became what I had to when Ilianya died and I lost everything.”

  Shade flinched at the sound of his dead sister’s name; a name that neither of them spoke aloud very often. Angels may not age, but they could die. Painfully. They could heal most wounds…but not all. “Don’t push me, Shade. This isn’t a time for hurt feelings. You need to make nice with that woman and find out what you need to. This is bigger than her, bigger than us.”

  “I’ll find out what I have to and get my dust. I won’t use her unless I have to. I don’t want to hurt her.” He hadn’t even spoken to her, but he already felt a connection with this Lily. Damned if he knew why.

  His friend let out a breath that sounded as old as Ambrose. “I know you hate this. I do, too, but it’s our job. We must protect our secrets no matter what.”

  Shade shook his head and finished his beer. “It doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  “Sometimes I wish all of our problems could be fixed with a sharp blade rather than a lie.” As a weapons enthusiast, that was a saying the older angel loved.

  “Come on, let’s get some sleep if you’re staying here. I have a guest room. In the morning, we can get to work on the council and Lily, and maybe find out what the hell that weird energy was.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  They walked to their rooms, and Shade sighed. Yeah, it was a plan, but in his heart, he knew it was the wrong one. He just couldn’t think of a better solution without revealing who—and what—he was. That bugged him to no end because, frankly, he really wanted to get to know Lily and make her, as Ambrose put it, his Lily.

  Chapter 4

  Lily’s head ached, and her eyelids felt heavy. Her body still pulsated and tingled, and energy fluctuated through her limbs, shocking them before weighing them down like heavy sandbags. As she tried to move, her body revolted and shuddered. It was too hard to think. Her mind fizzed as if she’d had too much to drink. No, that wasn’t right.

  Memories from before she closed her eyes came to the front of her mind. A flash of light. A gust of wind. A scream.

  Lightning.

  Oh, God.

  She shifted and her hand caught on something. A sharp sting shot up her arm. A trickle of warm, wet liquid trailed down her arm. Blood. Sensations slowly seeped into her body as the tingling numbness ebbed away. Her body ached as if she’d worked out too hard then thrown herself against a wall. Twice. With a groan, she wiggled her toes. Good. Not paralyzed then. She did the same to her fingers and sighed. At least she could feel them, pain and all. Small miracles. Gathering her strength, she cracked open her eyes, and quickly shut them again. Even the dim light of the room blinded her. Her head throbbed to a faster staccato. Fighting the urge to throw up, she opened her eyes again, slower this time. Her teeth bit into her lip, and she lifted her head and upper body.

  From where she was, she could see tables were overturned, chairs stood on end and glass littered the floor. The dark cherry wood paneling had splintered off in some places, while deep crevasses and nicks took up the rest. The framed pictures had fallen off the wall and now lay on the floor, their glass broken; the smiling faces in the frames frozen and unaware of the scene a
round them.

  Lily shook off the glass and tried to do the same to the blood that ran down her arm from small cuts and sat up fully. She turned her head, taking in more of her surroundings. A foot encased in a sensible, black Mary Jane caught her eye, and she gasped.

  “Jamie?” Please let her be all right.

  “I’m okay.” Jamie sat up and brushed the debris from her clothes.

  Lily looked her friend over and didn’t see any blood or cuts, and she bit back a sob.

  She stood up, wobbling a bit in her now not-so-cute boots, and looked around. The rest of her friends were conscious and sitting up. Relief flooded her. Becca leaned against a chair, her red curls in a tangle around her face. A large gash ran along her hairline, but the blood was only a small trickle. Amara sat underneath the bar by the stools, clutching her arm.

  “Amara?” Lily croaked. “What’s wrong with your arm?”

  The other woman shook her head. “I just banged it against something, but it’s not broken. That I would know.”

  Lily inwardly cringed. Of course, Amara would know what a broken bone felt like; she’d had enough of them growing up, but that wasn’t something she really wanted to think about.

  “H-holy cr-crap.” Faith stuttered, her black bob in a complete disorder. She had a slight cut on her face. “What was that?”

  “I have no idea,” Dante answered, his face serious as he held Nadie close to him and gazed over her body, most likely checking for injuries. “Is everyone okay? Anyone hurt?”

  Everyone shook their heads.

  “Just cuts and bruises,” Becca said, and winced as she tried to rotate her shoulder. “Okay, lots of bruises, but I don’t think anything’s broken.”

  Lily took a deep breath and surveyed the room. “How did this happen?”

  Dante growled. “A freak storm. I’m going to call the paramedics; I want you girls to get looked at before you go.” He looked down at Nadie, who uncharacteristically glared at him. Lily didn’t know what was going on with the two of them, but her head hurt too much to worry about it.

  “We’re fine. I just want to go home,” Eliana moaned.

  “What if you have a concussion? All of you blacked out,” Dante countered.

  “We’re fine. Really.” Lily said.

  “I don’t care.” Dante glowered at each of them in turn. “I’m calling 911, and you’re all going to get looked at. I’m not taking any risks or no for an answer.”

  With a collective sigh, they all nodded. It was the smart thing to do anyway.

  Lily rolled her neck and sat down on a stool that hadn’t been broken, careful to avoid any splinters. “What about your bar? What can I do?” It wasn’t the mess that bothered her, though on a normal day she’d scream at the disorder. No, it was the fact that Dante’s pride and joy lay in a heap of broken chairs and clutter. How would he ever rebuild it the same way it was and still capture the essence that made her feel like she was at home? Yeah, he could try, but would it be the same?

  Dante sighed and shook his head, walking away from Nadie, who continued to glare. “I’ll think of something. After all, it’s just stuff. The most important thing is that all of you are all right.”

  “Okay, but I want to help you clean it up,” Lily offered. It was the least she could do.

  Dante gave a small smile. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stand the mess too long, but, no, I’m okay.”

  Jamie hobbled to Lily’s side and sat next to her with a huff. “So.”

  “So.”

  “Are we going to talk about the obvious thing?” Faith asked, a trace of fear woven in her normal snarky façade.

  “What?” Lily asked. “Like the fact that the eight of us might have been struck by lightning and are alive to talk about it without any obvious serious injuries or burn marks?” Some of the fear from Faith’s voice wrapped around Lily’s heart and squeezed.

  This wasn’t normal. Seven women and one man living through a lightning strike with only a few cuts and bruises just couldn’t happen. It was improbable boarding on impossible. Yet, here they were. Proof that odd things happened and with no explanations.

  Faith gave a rough laugh. “Yeah, that.”

  “You’re the scientist,” Amara said, still clutching her arm. “This is weird, right?”

  Lily swallowed hard and winced at the ache in her side. Did she lie to her friends to make them feel better or tell them the truth? The answer was easy.

  “Weird, scary, and unheard of.”

  Her friends sat in silence, wide-eyed and still.

  “Okay, what does that mean?” Becca asked.

  “I don’t know,” Dante put in. “It’s crazy, and anyone who hears us talk about this will say the same. They’ll say we’re certifiable, and those who do believe us will hound us for answers. The lightning that attacked and shocked us didn’t do any real damage to us. Yes, we’re banged up, but we should be dead.”

  She looked around at her friends and took a deep breath, careful of her bruises. “So, I suggest, if you want to keep your privacy and your sanity, keep the shocking truth to ourselves unless someone mentions it. Even then, I wouldn’t say anything. I don’t want you all to be hurt because of this. It might be better to come up with a story that it was just the strong wind that blew in the door and leave out the lightning.”

  Lie? Seriously? Maybe not a true lie, but a lie by omission. She was a scientist who craved order, stability, and solving the unknown. Deceit and fabrications weren’t in her genetic make-up. Could she do it?

  Lily looked around the room at her friends who, except for a few cuts and bruises, looked perfectly okay. No one would believe what had happened to them.

  “Okay, Dante. I agree,” she said.

  One by one, her friends nodded in agreement, sealing their lie ready to hide the truth.

  * * * *

  Lily walked into her apartment and set down her purse. She winced as she sat on her sofa and took off her once-cute boots; they were now covered in scrapes and dirt and were beyond redeemable. Darn. She’d really liked those boots.

  She laid her head back, the soft cushions of the couch comforting her, and then she shot back up. What was she doing? She was filthy and spreading her dirt all over her clean house. With a gasp, she stood up, darted to the bathroom, and stripped out of her clothes. Once naked, she balled up the clothes and put them in her hamper.

  Lily turned on her shower and let it run to let the water heat up. It always seemed to take forever. She tried to ignore the mess she’d left in the living room. It wouldn’t do any good to run out there naked and start cleaning when she was cut up and dirty.

  The paramedics had arrived just minutes after Lily and her friends had made a pact to keep the lightning event a secret. None of the women or Dante had any broken bones or signs of internal bleeding, so they were allowed to go home after a quick exam. They were advised to call 911 if they felt dizzy or anything, but since they’d all lied and didn’t divulge the fact that they’d all lost consciousness, the paramedics were none the wiser. Dante had told the authorities that it was just a gust of wind and a strong storm. The officers seemed to take the explanation at face value and merely nodded then left, and that was that. Everything, on paper anyway, was normal; it had just been a freak windstorm that damaged a building and left some patrons with mild cuts and bruises.

  Lily let out a breath and gripped the edge of the sink. Her body tingled from the energy flowing through her. She’d lied to the other girls. She didn’t feel normal. She felt…

  Well, Lily didn’t know how she felt. Just weird.

  She looked into the fogging mirror and hardly recognized herself. Her face was flushed and her eyes bright. Her chestnut hair was in a tangle.

  What the hell had happened?

  She shook her head. There wasn’t anything she could do about it now. She needed to shower, clean up her mess, and then go to sleep. She was still going to meet Jamie in the morning to play dominos.

  The hot s
pray felt soothing against her skin as she stepped into the shower stream. Though her body ached and she could have fallen into bed and never come out, she needed to go to the park tomorrow with Jamie. Playing gave her a release from the pressure that assaulted her throughout the week, a release she didn’t get anywhere else.

  Especially from a man.

  The water trailed down her breasts, stomach and then pooled at her feet. She closed her eyes and moaned at the soreness that spread across her back and sides. She needed to relax. She closed her eyes, and images of a dark-haired stranger with strong hands assailed her. She imagined his hands replacing the water droplets and splayed across her skin. Her breath picked up as her stranger pulled her closer and pressed his mouth to hers. Her head rolled back as she imagined his hands working her nipples and then going lower. Her hand lowered to her mound of its own accord, and she touched herself, shocked at the heat. She rubbed her body against her hand and thought of her stranger’s deep voice resonating naughty words that left chills on her skin.

  Just as she was about to press herself closer into her hand, the water turned cold, and she gasped.

  Darn it. She couldn’t even get off in her mind.

  She rinsed the last of the soap out of her hair and turned off the water. She toweled off and then hobbled to her room. Once dressed in some comfy sweats and a tank, she went to the kitchen to get her cleaning supplies. It wasn’t as if she could just leave the mess in the living room.

  God. She really did need a life.

  With a groan, she went back into the living room and cleaned up every speck of dirt and grime she might have left. Her friends said she had OCD and, frankly, she agreed with them, but she could still function in the real world with it. She just liked order.

  Her muscles ached as she scrubbed out the last of the dirt and put everything away. Her house could probably use another deep cleaning, as it had been two weeks since she’d last done it, but she was too tired to think, let alone clean.