Lucca Read online

  Good to know where this game was heading. Lucca leaned forward, gripping his knees and breathing through his mouth. Blood dripped down his face, but he made no attempt to wipe it away as he waited for his vision to clear. His stomach churned, threatening to heave up what he had for dinner. Lasagna and meatballs, this wasn’t going to be pretty.

  Lucca felt the power surge shimmering around them and knew another preternatural had joined them. Great, they thought they needed another set of fists. He glanced up, trying to focus, but Kordon and the new arrival looked like blurred water figures as his vision went in and out of focus.

  Their voices floated toward him in bits and pieces, syllables sounding like grunts and harsh flares of anger.

  “Convince him… tomes… need… key…get it,” the newcomer grumbled with authority.

  Who posed a higher rank than the Prince of Darkness in the Hashasheen court that he gave orders in barking demands? The way the newcomer stood, his stance…the protruding wings… Wings? A Watcher or a Darklin? Lucca frowned. The newcomer spoke again, his voice sending a chill down his spine in recognition. “It can’t be.” He narrowed his eyes, blinked, hoping to focus on the male, but the attempt only proved to make him more nauseous. The elders allowed his healing abilities, but with his wings bound, healing proved slower.

  A flash of light and the newcomer vanished, leaving Lucca to the Hashasheens once again.

  Kordon strode back over to him. “I want the tomes,” Kordon demanded.

  “There’s things I’d like too, but life isn’t always fair. If you haven’t noticed, my powers are limited. I’m bound to this world and unable to flit across realms in search of the tomes you wish to possess.”

  Kordon withdrew the knife sheathed at his side. “Then perhaps you are no use to me.”

  “Finally,” Lucca whispered, resigned to meet his end. He would no longer have to endure living in the human realm surrounded by irrational beings inferior to him. He closed his eyes, waiting for the blade to make its mark.

  A gust of wind blew Lucca’s long hair in his face. He opened his eyes, his gaze riveting on the fallen Hashasheen dead at his feet — well, actually his knees. Shot through the heart with an arrow.

  “Dammit, Gideon,” he hissed at the Watcher’s untimely arrival. Gideon used his glamour as a shield, but his signature weapon of choice had a distinct message. The end of the arrow had dark green feathers with the ends dipped in gold.

  “This is not over,” Kordon vowed before disappearing in a whirl of gray smoke, his other henchman following, leaving their fallen comrade. The slain demon’s body hissed and smoked as it melted into a thick tar-like substance.

  With effort, Lucca rose to his feet, wiping the side of his bloodied mouth with the back of his hand.

  Gideon used his glamour, appearing in front of him wearing black leather and a bow flung over his right shoulder, giving him the appearance of a modern day Robin Hood with one wing. His spiked auburn hair and the dangling skull earring only added to the hoodlum attire. Gideon’s green eyes narrowed in on him with a look of disgust and pity.

  Disgust, Lucca would take. Pity proved to only piss him off.

  “Why do you do this, Lucca?” Gideon shook his head.

  “I could ask you the same thing. Really, can a man not die in peace?”

  “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Lucca, the warrior who led legions of men to fight wars and won many battles, proving him a true hero, is rolling over and asking to die like a dog.”

  “Why not just stab me in the heart, Gideon. My warrior days took place a lifetime ago.”

  “So you’ve become a coward then.”

  His eyes narrowed with warning. “Watch how you wag that tongue of yours.”

  Gideon’s ruddy brows rose high on his forehead, not in the least bit put off. “Or what? You’ll offer yourself up for me to slay?” He snorted, his disgust evident in his words. “You’ve been banished to the humans’ realm, deal with it.”

  “Deal with it? How’s it going with you?” His gaze slid over him. “You know being a one-winged freak and all? Is that working for you?” For a moment, he thought he’d burrowed under the Watcher’s skin and found the weakness he sought, but the male proved stronger willed than he thought.

  “You can try to push me away, but I’ll hold fast. I know what you’re doing and it will not work with me.”

  He harrumphed and strode past him. If insults wouldn’t drive the Fallen Angel away, maybe indifference would.

  “Where are you going?” Gideon called after him with a curse. When he didn’t answer, Gideon jogged to catch up to him.

  Lucca glanced at him without slowing his steps. “Do you really plan on striding down the street with a bow and arrow?” At least the Watcher had shifted to his human existence, losing his one good wing and looking somewhat human.

  With a flash of glamour, his weapons disappeared, too. “Happy now?”

  “Loads.”

  “I see your sarcasm still suits you.”

  “Don’t you have a soul mate or something to hunt down? I thought all the Nephilim would be jumping at the chance to ogle potential humans? What are you doing shadowing me?” The night turned chilly from the warm afternoon, but he welcomed the breeze feathering over his bruised skin.

  “Someone’s gotta watch your back.”

  His chuckle hid nothing of his disdain. “I have no wish for your help, Gideon.”

  “Believe me, you do. Don’t think I recognized your pity party of doom back there.”

  This halted Lucca’s steps, making Gideon backtrack. “Pity party?” Lucca spat.

  “Yeah, get life over with and all that malarkey.” Gideon’s hand shot out to grab Lucca’s arm in a firm grip. Gideon’s gaze wavered over Lucca’s flesh with a keen eye. “Just as I thought, not a scuffed knuckle. You didn’t even defend yourself.”

  Lucca yanked his hand free. “So?”

  “So? Is that all you have? You wanted the demons to take you down.” Gideon didn’t ask, he stated the complaint as a fact.

  Lucca’s nostrils flared against his will, but damn the Watcher for interfering in his destiny. “I’ll thank you to mind your own business.” He brushed by him and didn’t bother looking back when Gideon called after him.

  “Not going to happen. You’re stuck with me.”

  “Good Lord,” he swore under his breath. Stuck in the human realm and with a one-winged freak to remind me how much my life sucks. Just bloody brilliant. “If you don’t mind, I would—” His words lodged in his throat, making speech impossible. An intoxicating scent filled his nostrils as if he snorted the substance on purpose and lodged it in his nasal cavity.

  “You would what?” Gideon strode in even steps beside him.

  The luscious aroma swirled around Lucca like a spirit sent from the netherworld to distract him. It was doing one heck of a job, too. His train of thought and his surly mood evaporated in an instant. He halted his steps, too distracted by the fragrance to go on. He inhaled deeply, letting the potent bouquet waft through his system. “Do you smell it?”

  “Smell what?” Gideon’s voice held a note of impatience before it turned to concern. “Lucca, are you okay?”

  The scent proved too alluring to ignore, he had to find the source. Now. Lucca’s gaze scanned the strip mall across the street where a convenient store, Laundromat, and a sandwich place lined the walkway. Nothing out of the ordinary, but his senses were drawn there. He stepped off the curb. Cars screeched to a halt and horns blared, but his steps didn’t falter. He didn’t care when a bumper brushed the side of his leg, inches from taking him down. The driver rolled down his window yelling obscenities at him, but Lucca ignored him.

  “What the hell are you doing?” He heard Gideon call to him, but he didn’t offer an explanation for his abrupt change of course. He headed across the street, his steps quickening as the aroma grew stronger.

  He inhaled again not caring the erotic fragrance muddled his thoughts until all tha
t mattered was finding the source. He had to… He didn’t know what he had to do. He would decide once he located where the distracting aroma originated.

  Chapter Three

  Juliet inserted the quarters into the slot and pushed the lever. The washing machine jumped into motion, the water filling the tub. She couldn’t wait until her washer and dryer were delivered to the apartment and the Laundromat was a thing of the past.

  “Auntie Jules?” Owen had made himself at home with his comic books on one of the seats lined against the wall.

  “Hmm?” She opened another machine to do a load of whites.

  “When will my father come to visit again?”

  Startled at his question, her hand slipped and the lid to the washer slammed shut with a bang. She took a deep breath before she faced him, bracing herself for an onslaught of questions she couldn’t readily answer.

  Owen’s pale strands looked almost white against the healthy peach color of his skin. He tilted his head to the side, the gesture reminding her of her sister Marie, his mother, but his eyes were Raziel’s. They were the striking silver-blue too bright to be anything other than angelic. Owen knew his father was… different. They talked about Otherworldly beings, but she hadn’t told him the whole truth.

  Raziel wanted to be the one to tell him when he was older. Owen would be ten next month. The Archangel needed to tell him soon. “Your father will visit on your birthday.”

  Owen’s right eyebrow rose in an arch, another trait of her sisters. “Do you think he’ll remember?”

  He better. “He will.” She smiled trying to reassure him. Owen looked like any normal boy his age, all limbs and skinned up knees, but he wasn’t human. He was Nephilim and he needed his father’s guidance when he went through the Awakening, the time when he got his wings. Nephilim matured anywhere between twelve and nineteen. Already the boney nubs on Owen’s back had grown. It was rotten luck that Owen would probably be an early bloomer. He was young and he needed to keep his true-self hidden. She feared youth would make him forget and he would reveal himself to the wrong person. “Your father promised.”

  Owen sniffled. His hand slid into his pocket, pulling out a Kleenex to blow his nose. His chronic runny nose proved another sign the change was coming.

  “Auntie Jules?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s a guy staring at us.” He pointed toward the front door.

  Her brows furrowed as she turned to see what her nephew meant. Sure enough a man stood just outside the door, peering in at them with intent purpose. His broad shoulders and wide chest were complimented by a narrow waist and lean hips. His hair was worn long, scraping the collar of his shirt in luscious waves of golden wheat. He looked like he’d been in a fight recently and yet his chiseled features were too beautiful for the rugged man.

  His gaze leveled on her with such intensity, it made her think he’d been looking for her and his search had finally ended.

  Her nerves danced and her stomach did a quick somersault as the man’s hand went for the door handle and pushed. She took a step forward to meet him. It was imperative she found out what he wanted. You. He wants you. The words whispered in her ear.

  “Auntie Jules, do you know them?”

  Them? That sobered her and she halted her steps. She hadn’t noticed the other man there until now. Her gaze shifted over him. Tall, lean and with auburn hair. “Nephilim.”

  Chapter Four

  Lucca had passed by the shops of the strip mall, halting in front of the Laundromat. He inhaled again and his body shuddered with pleasure, his pulse quickening at the sensation that swamped his body. “Dear Lord.” The fragrance came from within the Laundromat. His brows furrowed in disbelief. The scent couldn’t be laundry detergent, could it? If so, he wanted a bottle or two to take home.

  The white walls of the Laundromat made the place look large and clean. Dryers lined against two walls and the washers were down the middle of the room, eight in all, four in a row lined back to back.

  One quick sweep, told him only two humans were in there. His gaze landed first on a boy who was about nine or ten years old. He was a human male with light hair, a towhead as human’s would call the shade that looked like moonlight. Then his gaze focused on the female standing beside him, perhaps the boy’s mother. The female’s locks were a warm color kissed by the sun, making the strands a light reddish blonde. She wore it back away from her face with one of those clippy things he’d seen so many females wear when the weather turned warm, but the majority of the length cascaded down her back in waves of sunshine. The jeans and T-shirt were nothing special, but she might as well have been clothed in fine threads befitting royalty. The cloth flowed over her skin as if they’d been tailored to the way she moved, flattering all her curves.

  “It’s her.” His voice came out in a hoarse whisper even he didn’t recognize. The scent wafted off of the female and he must know why it drew him. Why she’d chosen to wear it like a calling card.

  Gideon had caught up to him and stood beside him now. His heavy gaze locked onto him. No doubt wondering what held him captive. No longer one of the Watchers, he didn’t need to explain his motives. The Watchers left him on his own. They wanted him to interact with humans, learn to respect them. What a better way to do so than by introducing himself to this female. Then he’d find out where she bought the perfume she’d doused herself with and be done with her. His hand gripped the handle of the door, but Gideon’s words halted him.

  “What are you doing?” Gideon followed his line of vision. “Do you know her?”

  He didn’t, but he planned on rectifying it. He pushed open the door and entered. He closed his eyes as the intoxicating fragrance poured over him in waves of ecstasy, making him dizzy with lust. “Dear Lord.” His eyelids popped open and his gaze riveted to the human female. He wanted her, needed her. The thought consumed him, taking over every other thought.

  The female stared back at him. Her eyes, the lovely shade of green wavered over him, assessing the situation. He could see the warrior response in the depths of her eyes. Should she flee or fight? Her back stiffened and her chin rose in defiance. He noticed her hand moving to the back of her shirt. Dagger? No, this was the twenty-first century. She most likely packed a gun. It didn’t matter. He had to reach her, touch her to prove she was no illusion.

  He moved with purpose, ignoring Gideon who had entered behind him, ordering him to stand down.

  What an odd demand. They weren’t on a battlefield.

  Reaching the woman, he leaned near and inhaled the featherlike remnants of pine. “Rosemary.” Soothing, cool… Mint hit his senses next before a sweeter, smoother fragrance teased him. The combination of all three at once proved his undoing. His gaze swept over her. He wanted to kiss her…every inch of her. His eyes narrowed with suspicion, wondering if the woman enchanted him. “What are you?” His voice was raw with emotion.

  Her lovely arched brows drew together. He could sense her uneasiness and she jerked away, but didn’t run. “Did you just sniff my hair?” she asked.

  Even her smooth and musical voice enticed him. “What enchantment have you cast? The scent, the perfume you wear, what is it?”

  Her frown deepened and her gaze wavered over his shoulder. Probably looking at Gideon for an explanation, but when none came, her gaze met his again. “I’m not wearing any perfume.”

  “You lie,” he spat, not believing her.

  Gideon placed a firm hand on his shoulder, gripping it tight in warning. “You’ll have to excuse my friend. His medication has him—”

  “I’m not on medication,” he snapped. He caught sight of the young boy staring up at him with wide eyes. The child moved closer to the female, wrapping his small arms around her and leaning against her side. The action was not so much as if the boy feared Lucca, but to show him, he would protect the woman.

  Brave lad.

  “He’s not himself,” Gideon insisted and squeezed his shoulder again, a warning he couldn’t fatho
m. “He means no harm. Do you, Lucca?”

  Harm? Lucca was taken aback. Of course he didn’t mean any harm. He just wanted to … ravish her. The disturbing fact unsettled him. His pulse quickened at the prospect, the blood flowing to the part of his anatomy that was more than willing to make it a reality. He had no control over the feeling coursing through his body, as if some entity had possessed him. He cursed under his breath and backed away. Turning in a whirl, he strode out of the Laundromat before he did something he regretted. The thought of picking up the woman and throwing her over his shoulder crossed his mind.

  Once outside, he leaned against the side of the building and closed his eyes, trying to clear his thoughts. When Gideon opened the door to join him, he pushed away from the wall and took off at a brisk walk.

  Gideon kept pace, refusing to keep his mouth shut. “Well thank you Gideon for saving my arse.”

  Gideon’s sarcastic edge didn’t help his mood.

  “No one asked you to step in.” Who was the woman? Where did she come from, and why in the hell did he want to take her? As his mind cleared, he recalled the woman’s T-shirt. The decal, advertised Shakespeare in the Park, a theatrical group that performed the plays at the Garden Grove Amphitheatre. Did she belong to the group? To his annoyance, Gideon still trailed him.

  “No?” Gideon wasn’t going to let his actions slide. “You don’t think I should have interfered. If I hadn’t the woman would have called 9-1-1 and we’d be having this conversation in the back of a squad car. So do you mind telling me what that was all about? You scared the woman and her boy with your wolf-like gaze as if you were on the hunt and the woman was the prey.”

  Lucca ran his fingers through his hair, pulling the long strands away from his face. Wolf-like gaze? Prey? His behavior proved startling enough, but to have Gideon recap it for him only made it worse. The woman and the boy were frightened. Yeah, he was a little shaken himself. Gideon wanted to know why he went all predator back there. Well, he didn’t have an answer. It was like some button had been pushed, activating the human side of his emotions, making him as irrational as they were. Even now, he had to fight the urge to go back to the woman and drag her out of the Laundromat and make her his. “The female…”