Authors: Erin M. Leaf
“Hey, are you about ready to go?” Haniel asked, poking his head in
her open doorway.
She nodded and smiled, controlling her instinctive reaction to
him. Her body warmed and her arms itched. “Yeah, I’m ready. Why?” she asked
when he hung around, looking everywhere but at her face.
“Would you mind if I caught a ride into town with you?”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Sure. But how will you get back to the
house?” Neither man had wanted to go into town before.
“I can walk back, no problem. I just want to pick up some things,”
he said, ducking his head. “Thanks.”
“You can take the car back, as long as you come and pick me up,”
she said impulsively.
“Wait, are you sure?” he asked as they walked down the stairs. “I
don’t want to leave you without a vehicle.”
She nodded. “It’s fine. Just come get me at three.” She shook a
finger at him. “Not a minute later. I’m finally looking at some time off and I
have no intention of wasting a single minute of it.”
He laughed. “Okay, okay.”
“You’re going with her?” Jeremiel said, wiping his hands on a
dishtowel as they walked past the kitchen.
“Yeah. We’ll have to pick her up later,” Haniel said.
“No problem.” Jeremiel smiled at them. “Drive safe.”
****
“What do you mean, you lent your car to some guy? Are you crazy?” Lisa
said, voice rising. “They could be serial killers, for all you know.”
Charmeine laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think so. They’re nice guys.”
“And they’re staying in your house?” Lisa shoved the dirty glasses
into the dishwasher. “You really are crazy.”
“I’m used to hikers coming through, remember?” Charmeine said,
grabbing a couple of rolled napkins.
“They could be biding their time, waiting to feast on you when you
fall asleep,” Lisa said, closing the washer door and pushing on it with her hip
until it clicked.
“Oh please, they’re not demons. You’ve been watching too many
horror movies.” Charmeine rolled her eyes. “They’re nice guys. You’ll see.”
“What do you mean, I’ll see? I’ll see what?” Lisa grabbed the rest
of the fresh napkins and followed her out into the diner. “Are they coming
here?”
“I don’t know if both of them are, but Haniel definitely is. He
needs to pick me up when I get off shift.” She glanced at the clock on the
wall. “In about ten minutes. That’s why Darla took my tables.”
“Wait, what? His name is Haniel? What kind of name is that?” Lisa
dropped the napkins into the box near the register. “That’s an angelic name.
You are one lucky chick. It must be the exotic Asian thing you’ve got going on.”
She paused, then said, “Holy shit.”
Charmeine laughed. “I don’t think his shit is holy, Lisa. And the
Asian thing is getting old. I had enough crap about it all day from the
tourists. It sucks living in such a small town sometimes.”
“No, you idiot. Look.” Lisa poked her in the arm. Hard.
Wincing, Charmeine rubbed her arm as she looked at the door.
Haniel stood just inside, in all his blond glory. The afternoon sun backlit his
hair, making him look even more ethereally gorgeous than usual.
Damn, he’s
hot.
“Is that him?” Lisa hissed.
Charmeine gave her a look that said
shut up.
“Hey,” she
called aloud. She smiled and waved, catching his eye. “He’s early,” she
muttered to her friend.
“Oh my God, look at that tall drink of blonde gorgeousness.” Lisa
breathed. “Whoa.”
He headed over, moving through the tables with a grace that was
obviously not lost on Lisa. “Hey, you ready?”
Charmeine nodded. “Five minutes. You’re a little early.” She
smiled, forcibly yanking her eyes away from his hips. So what if his jeans were
tight enough to give her palpitations? That didn’t mean she should stare at his
groin. “Oh, this is my friend, Lisa,” she said, moving away from the woman’s
pointy, painful finger.
“Nice to meet you,” Haniel said softly.
Lisa blinked. “Yeah. Um, I mean, nice to meet you too.”
Charmeine didn’t blame her for stuttering. The man was beautiful.
She
still stuttered around him sometimes.
“Is it okay if I wait in the car? We’re parked just outside.” He jabbed
a thumb at the door as he glanced around the crowded restaurant. “I don’t want
to get in your way.”
More like he isn’t in the mood to have the entire place staring at
him,
Charmeine
thought darkly, frowning at the customers who were watching them avidly. “Yeah,
sure,” she said aloud. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.” She watched him weave
his way through the tables, unable to keep herself from staring at his
backside. It was just so damn perfect.
“So, like I said before,
holy crap!
” Lisa hissed. “Did you
see the tattoo on his arm?”
Charmeine frowned. “Yeah, so?”
“Oh, come on. Is he an angel?” Lisa voice wasn’t particularly
quiet.
Charmeine shushed her, not wanting the diners to overhear. “I don’t
think so. The marks are only on one arm.” She thought about the faint scars on
his other arm. “I don’t know.”
“If he is, well,
whoa
times a million.”
“I don’t think angels and humans mix, Lisa,” Charmeine said,
repeating what she’d told herself a thousand times this week.
“At least now I know why you let him stay. Is the other one as
handsome as that?” Lisa fanned herself melodramatically. “How do you function
with two of those in your house?”
“I’m leaving now, Lisa.” Charmeine grabbed her purse from under
the register.
“Hurry home. I can’t say that I blame you.” Her friend grinned.
“Oh my God, shut up,” Charmeine pleaded. “He and his friend will
be moving on soon enough.”
“Are you sure about that?” Lisa asked. “Because you didn’t see the
way he looked at you, my friend.”
Charmeine shook her head. “Now
you’re
the crazy one.”
“I know what I saw.”
“Leaving.” Charmeine waved to Marvin and walked out the doors,
trying to calm her nerves. Could Lisa be right? And if so, exactly
how
was Haniel looking at her?
Chapter Five
Haniel waited by the car, unsettled by the crowd in the diner.
That happened a lot. He looked human and acted human, but somehow, most of the people
he encountered knew he wasn’t really one of them. He wasn’t sure why or how,
especially now that he was missing half of his legacy marks, but it always
happened like that. Jeremiel often refused to go into places where a lot of
people gathered unless it was winter and he could wear something over his arms.
“I’m here,” Charmeine said behind him.
He spun around, smiling. She’d loosened the ponytail she wore to
work and wisps of long brown hair blew across her face. She probably thought
she was plain, but he’d never seen such rich brown eyes before. Never seen such
creamy skin. God, he had it bad.
“Ready to go?” he asked her, dangling the car keys on his finger.
“Will you drive?” she asked. “I’m pooped.”
Surprised, he nodded. “Sure.”
“Good,” she said, lifting her hair off the back of her neck. “I
just want to sleep for days.”
He opened the passenger side door for her, ignoring her look of
surprise at his gallantry. “I bet. You work pretty hard in there.” He frowned. “How
did you end up as a waitress?”
Her eyes followed him as he walked around the car. When he climbed
behind the wheel, she rubbed her temples tiredly. “My parents died in a car
crash when I was eight, so my grandmother raised me. I was halfway through
college when she got sick. I came home to take care of her. End of story.”
He turned the key. “That sucks.”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
He knew what it felt like to be alone like that. His parents had
faded when he was little. They’d just given up on their duty and let themselves
disappear into the mist, like so many angels of their generation. They thought
that after their species was outed to the humans, they couldn’t ever live in
peace again. That they had no reason for being. They couldn’t have been more
wrong. He pulled away from the curb and headed for Charmeine’s house. “I
understand. My parents died when I was little, too.”
She glanced at him. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “I barely remember them. Jeremiel’s parents took care
of me for a while.” He needed to change the subject before she asked him what
happened. “So, your mom was Asian?”
She blinked. “Korean. How did you know?”
“The picture on your fridge.”
“Ah.” She tilted her head back and rested it against the seat. “Yeah.
She came here in the late nineteen sixties, met my dad at college, and the rest
is history.” She smiled faintly. “My grandmother told me they had an epic love
affair. Apparently, everyone here was scandalized. They couldn’t get the clerk
to issue them a marriage license until my parents admitted my mother was
pregnant. People can be so stupid.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” he said, absently rubbing his right arm.
Sometimes his missing legacy marks ached, as if his skin knew there was
something wrong. He was grateful he wouldn’t be forced to fight the change
again for at least another week or two. He hated the thought of struggling like
that where Charmeine might see.
“Hey,” she said, after a long moment of silence. “I didn’t mean to
freak you out.”
He glanced over at her. She was staring out the window, face
tilted to the sky. Sunlight reflected from her eyes, hiding her thoughts, but
he could tell she was frowning.
“I’m sorry, it’s not you. I was just remembering my parents.” He
took a deep breath. “Basically, they committed suicide. I’m still pissed with
them about it, all these years later.”
She turned to him, compassion bleeding into her expression. “Oh,
that’s terrible. I’m sorry.”
“No, no need to apologize. They made their decision and I was far
too young to stop them. I was only three. It was two decades ago. You’d think I’d
be done with it by now.” He shook his head as he pulled into her driveway.
“Some things you don’t ever get over,” she murmured.
“Yeah.” He opened the door. Jeremiel waved from the porch. Thank
God he had his best friend. Even if things were a little weird right now, he
knew Jeremiel would always have his back. “Yo! I got your stupid oranges,” he
called out, pushing his morbid thoughts aside. He didn’t want to think about
his parents. Or his lost ability to fly. He walked over and opened the car door
for Charmeine before she could get out.
She grinned up at him. “I’m not an invalid, you know.”
“I know. But you’re a pretty woman and I like opening the door for
you.” He made a little bow, pleased when she blushed and laughed.
“Stop flirting and bring me my food,” Jeremiel called.
Haniel gave him the finger, making Charmeine laugh again. “You’re
lazy,” he told his best friend.
Jeremiel slouched against the porch railing indolently, foot
hanging off the steps. “So what if I am?”
Haniel smacked him on his head. “Get up and help me with the
groceries.”
Charmeine skirted past them. “I’ve gotta change before I melt.”
Haniel watched her walk inside, imagining her without her uniform.
He bet she wore lacy little underthings.
“Get your mind out of the gutter,” Jeremiel said, poking him in
the thigh.
He shifted his eyes to his best friend. Jeremiel wore a tight red
t-shirt and shorts. He was barefoot. He remembered what it had been like to rut
against that body and swallowed. What was going on with him?
“Oh Jesus,” Jeremiel whispered, standing up. “Stop it. Stop
looking at me like that.”
“I can’t help it,” Haniel said quietly. “We’ve been sleeping in
the same bed for a week. I wake up smelling like you. And then there’s
Charmeine. I think I’m going crazy.”
“Just shut up,” Jeremiel ordered, grabbing the bag of oranges from
him. “Stop thinking about it.”
Haniel snorted, beyond frustrated. Jeremiel hadn’t let him touch
him since the one time at the beginning of the week and Haniel’s craving for
skin was almost unbearable. Maybe it was because he couldn’t shift anymore.
Jeremiel had taken to flying half the night, alone, leaving him behind to watch
over Charmeine. He drew a deep breath. “You’re my mate. So is Charmeine. This
isn’t going to go away. Even if you never touch me again.”
Jeremiel glared at him and went into the house without another
word.
****
Mate?
Charmeine mouthed to herself. She’d been standing near her open window to get
some breeze on her overheated skin, stripping off her uniform, when she heard
the men talking.
What did Haniel mean, I’m his mate?
She kicked off her
skirt and walked to her dresser, unbuttoning her blouse. She stared at her
reflection in the mirror. Brown eyes, messy hair. Sweaty and flushed. Bah. She
didn’t look like anyone’s version of an attractive woman.