The beautiful old gothic homes fascinated her and were part of the reason she’d loved this town so. The grand staircase they descended led them to a large atrium at the center of the house. A magnificently patterned window of stained glass depicting a warrior angel, riding a horse, and brandishing a sword, adorned the ceiling.
In daylight, it should cast a glorious reflection on the dark wood floor below. She wanted to look at all the paintings and statues they passed, but she knew Roharn was in a hurry. Danjal had given them an hour.
“Who lives here? Besides Danjal?” she asked as they passed several large oil paintings of serious-looking nuns and past Popes. Paintings of the Virgin Mary and several of Jesus had their place as well. Small alcoves housed gold chalices and other religious paraphernalia.
“Danjal, his team of unit commanders and I do,” Roharn replied, “Our home used to be a convent a hundred or so years ago. It consists of the convent, the original church, and a large area of farmlands.” He paused beside a set of double doors. “And this is the kitchen, the heart of our home.”
They’d painted the kitchen walls sunshine yellow, and the appliances were all black. Yellow cupboards with black handles and frames ran the length of all the walls. The benchtops were black marble. A fire burned in an arched hearth. Reba gravitated towards it. Holding her cold hands out to the flames, she looked over at the windows. It was dark out, but she imagined how the sunlight would stream through during the day. No wonder he referred to it as the heart of the home.
Roharn opened the fridge and pulled out containers. “You’ve lived in David’s Town before, so you’ll be prepared for the cold.”
“Nothing prepares you for this kind of cold, not when you’re accustomed to living in sunshine.”
“Come, sit down.” Rohan helped her into a chair. “Let’s get some food into you.” He moved to the microwave and busied himself with plates and cutlery.
The door swung open and a familiar-looking man strode in.
“Hi Jeq.” Roharn greeted him as he placed a bowl of thick oxtail soup in front of Reba. “The toast is coming in a moment. How do you like your coffee?”
“Dark and strong,” she replied, watching the newcomer who joined Roharn at the coffee pot.
“Have you met Reba?” Roharn asked as Jequon barely glanced in her direction.
“We’ve met before.” Reba picked up her spoon and stirred it into the steaming soup.
Jequon kept his back to her and poured coffee into a mug. When he turned around, there was no smile on his handsome face.
“If we did, I’m afraid I don’t remember.”
Reba arched a brow. He was playing at the same game as Danjal. What was with these guys?
“You drove me home from Moon People one night, you know, Elijah’s the Warlock’s nightclub.” She studied his chiseled jawline and short, thick black hair. Ten years hadn’t changed his beauty, he just wasn’t as friendly as she recalled. “Your colleagues used to call you Rover.”
Roharn snickered as he placed the mug beside Reba. “Rover, oh God yes.” He slapped Jequon on his back. “Rover the great pussy hunter!”
Jequon shrugged as he pulled up a chair. “I’ve driven many women home from Moon People over the years. I can hardly be expected to remember everyone whose bed I’ve been in.” He narrowed one eye and shot her a shit-eating grin.
“You were never in my bed!” Reba shoved a spoon into her soup and stirred the thick, delicious looking broth.
Her bad. She’d left herself open for his bitchy comment, but no matter she was a quick study. She’d no friends in this old mausoleum and she’d do well to remember that. “I remember Danjal from that time too.” She held Jequon’s gaze as she spoke. “He claims not remember me either. What happened to you guys? Did a Memory demon slip through the dimensions and gobble up your memories?” Sarcasm dripped from her voice as she spooned soup into her mouth.
Her words hung in the air between them.
“Danjal was shot, Reba. He has trouble remembering that time.” Roharn broke the uncomfortable silence that settled in the room.
“I know, I saw photographs of him lying on the pavement outside of the florist, there was blood everywhere.” She exhaled loudly and placed her spoon back in the bowl. “My friend Betty was one of the first at the scene. She said Danjal was dead, there was nothing more she could do for him.”
“It’s a long story, Reba, but he did indeed survive.” Roharn assured her.
“But how? I saw the pictures. Half of his head was blown off.” She shuddered at the memory.
“Warriors are a different species.” Jequon’s jaw was tight as he spoke. “You can’t compare us with humans.”
“Then what’s with his eyes? Were they damaged too?”
“You’re full of questions, aren’t you?” Jequon snapped at her. “Word of what you tried to do to Roharn this evening has gotten around. You’d do well to tread carefully around here.”
“Jequon!” Roharn stood abruptly pushing back his chair. “Don’t. You need to remember who she is, and what she did for Bludon!”
“And what about what she tried to do to you?” he countered.
“She didn’t come to us Jeq,” Roharn argued. “We brought her here. She woke up in a strange place. Let’s give her the benefit of telling her story before we accuse her of shit she probably hasn’t done.”
A phone pinged, and Reba watched Roharn pull it from his pocket. He read the message and looked at her.
“Let’s go Reba, Danjal will see you now.”
“I’m sorry.” She pushed her plate away. “I didn’t mean to start a war between you two.”
Jequon refused to look at her and she could see he was seething with anger by the way his knuckles blanched white, so tight was his grip on his mug.
Reba stood, pushed in her chair, and looked at Roharn who stood at the door waiting for her. She wasn’t looking forward to the meeting with Danjal.
She bit down on her lip and took a deep, fortifying breath. She didn’t have the strength for this. In all her fantasies of Danjal, none of them had been about coming face to face with a man who didn’t remember her.
Roharn tapped on the door to announce their arrival before opening, “I’ve brough Reba.” He twisted the handle and pushed open the door, then indicated she enter.
They’d painted the walls in his study a rich wintergreen, and they’d scattered maroon rugs over the dark hardwood floors. A brooding Danjal sat behind a large desk, situated before an enormous stained-glass window. The yellow panes were fashioned to form the five-pointed pentacle of David, flanked by a pair of white angel wings. Reba recognized it as the insignia of David's Town warriors.
“What’s up?” Roharn seemed to sense something was awry with Danjal, who frowned fiercely at the mobile phone he held in his palm.
“I’ve been trying to get hold of Noah, but he keeps rejecting my call.” Danjal tossed the phone onto the desk’s dark green leather surface.
“Perhaps he’s in a meeting, give him time. I’m sure he’ll call when he can.” Roharn tried to soothe Danjal’s exasperation.
Danjal merely grunted. “I trust you enjoyed your dinner?” He flicked a glance at Reba as he shut down the screen of his desktop.
“I did, thank you,” she replied in a small voice.
“Then please take a seat. You have somewhere to be Roharn, don’t you?” Danjal said looking meaningfully at the door.
“Yes,” Roharn nodded slowly.
Reba turned to Roharn, a protest on her lips. She didn’t want to be left alone with Danjal. He wasn’t the man she remembered, yet she couldn’t deny the flickering sensation in her belly, every time their eyes collided.
Roharn squeezed her arm. “I have a patient to look in on, but I will see you in the morning for breakfast, okay.”
“Is that Blue?” she asked, “How is he?”
“He is in a serious condition, only time and prayers will tell for now.”
“I’m
so sorry.”
“We as medico’s can only do so much.”
He squeezed her arm again. There was a warmth to Roharn, that she couldn’t help but be drawn to. Perhaps their work was a common denominator, something she could relate to with him. She watched him walk to the door and her sigh was audible as it clicked shut behind him.
“My brother can be too trusting,” Danjal spoke, and Reba’s head whipped around.
“Your brother?” Her voice rose in surprise, and she jerked a thumb over her shoulder.
“We are sired by the same warrior.” Danjal’s reply held a bitter bite that Reba didn’t understand. “So yes that makes us brothers.”
“I’m sorry.” Reba shook her head to hide her confusion. “He just never mentioned it.” She shuffled uncomfortably in her seat.
Danjal cleared his throat. “Let’s get on with this, shall we?” His chair creaked as he leaned forward. “Let’s start with something easy, like your limo ride from the airport?”
“I can’t remember much of that part.” Reba shrugged. “It’s all a blur, screeching brakes, the car flipping over.” She rolled her hand. “Glass flying everywhere.”
“Fair enough.” Danjal nodded. “Then perhaps you can tell me how you kept Bludon alive? He was shot with a material deadly to our kind; he should not have survived.”
“I just performed CPR.” Reba fiddled with the hem of her shirt.
He wouldn’t buy that shit, she knew it, but she didn’t know how to explain what she’d done. It was something she just did. She watched him look to the ceiling and close his eyes as if he prayed for divine intervention. When he spoke again, the chill in his voice sent shivers down her spine.
“I’ll give you a moment to think about what you just told me, so before you speak again, be mindful of what leaves your mouth. Right now, my bullshit meter is off the Richter scale. So, I will ask you one more time, what did you do to him and why did he not die out there?”
Reba opened her mouth, another lie forming on her tongue, but Danjal violently slapped his hand down on the desk causing her to jerk.
“Everything that happens on a mission is recorded. I can playback the footage taken by Blue’s bodycam. So, do you want to rethink your story before you open your mouth and lie to me again?”
You can’t just expect me to spill my guts to you, she wanted to yell, but she kept her voice in check. “I don’t need to see it.” She tucked her hands between her thighs and straightened her shoulders.
Her chin jutted forward, and she looked him in the eyes.
“Well then,” Danjal left his chair and prowled around the desk, coming to stand directly before her.
“If you expect me to trust you enough to keep you in my home, I need to know exactly what I rescued from that ravine.”
“I don’t want to stay here, I have a room booked at the Castledowns Hotel,” Reba replied. “I also have a return ticket to South Africa; it must be lost in the wreckage of the limo. It would just take a call to the consulate to get the ball rolling and I’ll be out of your hair for good.”
Danjal’s hands tightened into fists. He lowered himself onto the edge of the desk, planting his booted feet on either side of her chair, effectively trapping her. His pale fingers unfurled, grasped the edge of the desk, and squeezed. His scarred knuckles blanching as his grip tightened.
He moved his body forward, and his hands gripped the armrests of her chair. They were almost nose to nose. “You were in a pair of handcuffs when Blue pulled you from that car. Was that some kinky sex thing you had going on with Rupert in the back of the limo?”
“So what if it was?” she goaded. “Why is any of this your business?”
He was so close his breath burned the skin of her face. His black pupils shrank to tiny slits, and his nostrils flared as he inhaled loudly.
“Why did Rupert bring you back to David's Town when his parents live three hours away?” Danjal persisted.
Reba’s head jerked back, and a sudden coldness rolled over her body. She folded her arms across her chest. If they had paid Rupert to bring her here, Danjal wouldn’t be asking these questions. Butterflies beat their wings against the walls of her tummy, and she shook her head. “I don’t know…” she muttered.
“What, you don’t know?” his voice barked.
She flinched turning sideways in the chair in a bid to get away from him.
“I have asked you two questions, Reba, and you have failed to give me an answer to either. At the best of times, I function on a short fuse. Tonight I am a little less patient than usual. My best friend’s life hangs in the balance.”
Danjal reached behind him and lifted a silver arrow from his desk. Reba had been too preoccupied to notice it lying there before.
“I hate liars, Reba.” He kept his eyes on his hand as the arrow slipped between his fingers at an unnatural speed. “Especially silver-eyed wenches who use their beauty to manipulate men.”
“I’m not lying.” Reba crossed her arms protectively over her chest, the motion dragging the shirt up over her knees. “And I’m not manipulating anyone!” How dare he say that about her.
Danjal’s eyes dropped to the bronze of her exposed thighs, and his pupils dilated, turning the violet irises black. She was certain his incisors became more prominent. She hastily crossed her legs and tugged the shirt and jumper down over her knees.
Danjal flipped the arrow around in his hand and using the sharp end, he slapped her hand.
“No!” she yelped and jerked her stinging hand away, watching as he used it to drag the shirt down, stopping at her knees.
Reba withdrew into the confines of the chair as he flipped the arrow over again. This time using the feathered end, he tapped the underside of her jaw, forcing her neck into an arch.
“Oh, but you are,” his voice was soft but insistent. “I think your whole life is a lie. I think you’ve flitted around the globe, not staying long in one place because you’re protecting that lie.”
Her anger flared at his allegation. “My life is not a lie!”
“You’ve been lying for so many years, you don’t even know what the truth is anymore, Rebecca.”
“Who are you to judge me?” She challenged him with more bravado than she felt.
“Oh, I’m not judging you. I’m trying to find the truth you insist on hiding.” He dragged the feathered vane slowly along her jaw, stopping at her ear. “Now tell me what you did to Blue last night?”
He stroked the feathers over her neck, paying special attention to the artery that beat beneath her skin. Her nipples hardened beneath the soft fabric of her shirt, and she sucked back a soft breath and met the wicked gleam in his eyes. He knew the effect he was having on her, and she hated her body’s eager response to him.
Reba slapped angrily at the torturous arrow and sprang lithely from the chair. Her destination was the door. She’d had enough of his sensual torture. Her socked feet slipped on the highly polished floorboards, but she kept her balance, and focused on the black door handle. The moment her hand touched the cold metal, the arrow whizzed past her ear and slammed into the door above her head. She fumbled desperately with the handle, but it remained resolutely in the locked position. Reba whirled around and scowled hatefully at Danjal. He’d moved with the speed and stealth of a cat. And in the blink of an eye, she stared into his uniform-clad chest.
“Damn you!” she seethed, her chest heaving. “You could’ve killed me!”
Danjal eased the arrow from the wood. “Had I wanted you dead, I’d have aimed for your head and not the door. Now tell me, Reba.”
He dipped his head, and his nose almost touched her lips. He inhaled her expelled breath and there was something intimate about the way he appeared to savored it.
“How is it you smell human, yet you’re not!”
Reba shoved at his chest, but he caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. The movement slammed their bodies together.
“Get off me!” Reba struggled against his ho
ld on her. “Let go of me Danjal!”
“Uh-uh, I’ve seen what these hands can do.”
He leaned forward and braced both forearms on the door beside her head. Then he released her wrists and entwined their fingers in an intimate grip. Their height difference forced her to look up at him.
“I saw you save Blue’s life, but I am willing to bet you’re just as skilled at taking a life too.”
“No, why would you just assume that?”
Danjal pushed his thigh between her legs, the buttons on his pants pressed into her abdomen and he lowered his nose to her hair and sniffed.
“Something about you sets alarm bells off in my head.”
His fingers clamped down harder between hers and she thought the bones in her hands would snap under the pressure.
“You’re playing in the big leagues now, sweetness. The stakes in David's Town are far higher than anywhere your little demon has played before.”
“Danjal please,” Reba begged as tears splashed onto her lashes. “I’m not a monster or a demon or anything like that. Please believe me!”
He moved his thigh against her groin and Reba’s hips jerked at the rough contact of his uniform pants against her skin. He was frightening her, but her body was reacting to him and in a sick kind of way, he was turning her on.
“What happened to you, Danjal?”
He didn’t respond immediately, though he studied the pathway her tears took with interest. Then he dipped his head and Reba closed her eyes. She felt his breath whisper across her lips as he spoke.
“A priest happened to me. He must have thought he did God’s work.”
Danjal flicked his tongue at a teardrop that pooled above her upper lip, then his head dipped into the crook of her neck and his lips brushed against the vein that throbbed beneath her skin.
“I died many times that day, and during the days thereafter. Each time they forced me back to life, the more of who I used to be I lost.”
He flicked his tongue against her neck.
“But I heard you didn’t leave the city unscathed either. So tell me, Reba, how did you survive the vampire that killed your friend and put you in hospital for a week?”
Run Angel Run: A Steamy Dark Fantasy Romance (The Angels of David's Town Book 1) Page 7