Lucca (21 page)

Blaize narrowed his gaze on him. “Don’t play
games with me, Lucca. Let’s say it like it is. You’re blackmailing
me. You want me to help you for whatever frickin’ reasons you have
for stealing Raziel’s book, in exchange for your silence on my
sister’s extra curricular activities.”

“I think you have it right. So… Do we have a
deal?”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Sarice felt her brother’s arrival at the
hospital before he burst into her office with the look of murder in
his eyes. Blaize was all decked out in his heavy metal garb and
looking every bit like the teen idol, bad boy, girls screamed to be
close to. She glanced at the clock on the wall, indicating it was a
few minutes past noon. “You’re up early.” Her brother kept hours as
if he were a vampire.

Blaize slammed his fist on the desk, sending
the contents in her coffee mug sloshing dangerously over the edge
of the rim. “Watch it,” she warned. “I have hospital documents
here.” She grabbed for the cup before her brother decided to throw
a temper tantrum again.

“You’re screwing a Guard of Judgment!” He
didn’t ask her. He accused her.

She rose from her seat and closed the door
to her office, hoping to keep others from hearing their business.
Leaning against the door, she faced her brother. “Who I sleep with
is none of your concern.”

“I don’t give a damn who you screw. It’s
blooding the bastard that pisses me off.”

Her brows narrowed, wondering how her
brother found out. Zaiden and she were very discreet, or so she
believed.

“Don’t deny it.”

“I didn’t,” she snapped back. “Still none of
your business.”

He was at her side in a flash, holding her
captive against the door. “It is when I’m being coerced into
keeping your dirty little secret.” He pounded his fist on the door,
inches from her face. She flinched, but she didn’t fear her
brother’s wrath. He wouldn’t harm her no matter how his temper
rose.

“Who? Why?” She couldn’t fathom why anyone
would care what she and Zaiden did behind closed doors.

He whirled on her, his finger pointing at
her with purpose. “It doesn’t matter, but your little fantasy play
will stop now. Today. Before you lose control and kill the
Watcher.”

“I wouldn’t hurt Zaiden.”

“Not intentionally, but we both know good
intentions can go out the window when you least expect it. Zaiden
is a high-ranking officer with the Watchers. If anything happens to
him, you might as well wear a red dot on your chest and stand in
their Grand Hall for target practice.”

“Blooding is discouraged, yes, but it’s not
a crime.” She refused to be intimidated by her twin.

“All true, dear sister, but if one of the
Guards of Judgment should die, the Fallen will not let the slight
go with a slap on the hand. They’ll want your blood in exchange for
his. Regardless of Zaiden being a willing participant. Damn the
Watcher for putting you in this precarious position.”

“Zaiden didn’t put me anywhere I didn’t want
to be.” She lifted her chin in defiance. “Don’t bully me, Blaize.
We aren’t younglins anymore and you can’t beat me in a fight as
easily as you did back then.”

Her brother glared at her with narrowed
eyes, his nose flaring as he tried to temper his anger. He let out
his breath in a whoosh, leaving no doubt about his frustration. “I
don’t want to fight you, Sarice. I want you to think this through.
Let Zaiden LeGard go before it’s too late.”

Sarice’s hand curled over the doorknob,
yanking the door open. “I think you need to leave.”

Her brother always liked the last word in an
argument and this time was no different. No one told him when to go
and when to stay. He used his glamour and shimmered out of the room
instead of using the conventional way humans could accept.

“You’re such a child,” she said to the empty
room, but she had no doubt he heard her when a blast of air hit her
face, sending her dark strands flying behind her.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Lucca’s meeting with Blaize took longer than
he expected and he arrived late to the foray of disgruntled
performers practicing their lines without their Hamlet being
present. Lucca knew all Shakespeare’s plays and could recite most
of the lines from heart and could sum up the stories in three lines
or less. For Hamlet: In the beginning of the play Hamlet wishes he
were dead. He eventually comes to terms with life. He keeps his
integrity and strikes back at what’s wrong around him. Lucca could
only hope his life could be as successful.

Arty had been impressed with Lucca and gave
him the leading role, which didn’t win him points with Darin Peters
who thought he should play Hamlet.

Lucca didn’t need to rehearse, but if he
wanted to be part of the company, he must be a team player and show
up on time.

The director’s eyes narrowed in on him. He
took in his size and still didn’t give a damn that Lucca could beat
him to a pulp if he wanted to. “So nice of you to grace us with
your presence, Mr. Marlowe.” He didn’t wait for him to make an
excuse. He continued on with the scene at hand.

Lucca spotted Juliet and headed over to her,
hoping she wouldn’t be just as gracious as the director had
been.

She handed him the script, slapping it
against his chest. Okay, so she wasn’t pleased with him either. She
knew he didn’t need a script, but he took it anyway out of
courtesy.

Juliet had her sun-kissed strands pulled
back in a long braid, letting it lay loosely down her back. Her
blouse and jeans fit her curves as if complimenting them with an
appreciated caress. When he wasn’t near her, he was firm in his
convictions to let her go, but here he stood before her the
besotted fool.

“Did you see something you liked?” One ruddy
brow lifted.

His lips slid into a smile and he leaned
close to whisper in her ear. Good Lord, she smelled wonderful.
“Don’t ask the question if you don’t want to hear the answer.”

Her cheeks were a nice shade of crimson.
“Who says I don’t want to hear?”

Good looking and haughty without being
pretentious. He found he rather liked the combination. “So be it
then.” He took her hand in his, reveling in the softness of her
skin. Her gaze touched him, waiting with anticipation for him to
make the next move. “O, thou art fairer than the evening air clad
in the beauty of a thousand stars.” Raising her hand to his lips,
he bestowed a tender kiss.

She slipped her hand from his grip, placing
it on her rounded hip. “Flattery is meant to distract, is it not,
Mr. Marlowe?”

She reverted to last names. Either his
disappearing act earlier at Purcible’s or his tardiness now upset
her. Maybe it was both. “Only if I didn’t mean it.” Quoting Marlowe
had just popped out of his mouth as if the phrase had been written
for her. Losing his head around Juliet had become a common
occurrence.

“Lucca you’re up,” the director shouted.
“Would you mind joining us on stage with the rest of us lowly
actors?” He waved his hand in a dramatic flare.

He strode up the stairs if only to put some
distance between Juliet and himself.

Lucca read his lines, not once glancing at
his script and certainly not looking at Juliet less he forget
himself entirely and sweep her up in his arms.
What the hell
would you do with her then? Ravish her on the stage? Or whisk her
back to your place to make love to her?

No, he couldn’t, but the thought of removing
every inch of her clothing and running his hands over her smooth
skin kept playing in his mind. God, he wanted her. He needed her.
As he finished his last line of the scene, his gaze did find hers.
She chewed on her lower lip, her eyes dark green pools. She wanted
him too. It would be wrong for him to take advantage of her when he
knew he had to give her up. Heck, even if his father hadn’t shown
up to screw things up, he couldn’t give her what she needed. He may
be earthbound, but he wasn’t human and he couldn’t promise her a
future. Once he delivered the book to Barachiel and managed to
reclaim his life, he wouldn’t stay on the earth’s realm of
existence.

He could do this. He could walk away from
her as long as he kept her at a distance and didn’t kiss her again.
The elders wanted him humbled, wanted him to respect human life.
How could they ask this of him when it was so painful?

His gaze slid over Juliet in a slow roll of
want. His pledge to stay away from her fell short when his thoughts
returned to removing her clothes and lying with her. He didn’t
believe bedding a human was what the elders had meant by respect,
and sleeping with her wouldn’t keep her safe from his father.

He turned sensing a surge in the air, a
ripple as if the veil between this world and the Otherworldly realm
had torn. He scanned the rows of chairs in the stands. He didn’t
see him, but he knew his father was close, his presence pressing
down on him, trying to break him. He stood taller, pushing his
shoulders back. “Not this time, Father,” he murmured beneath his
breath.

“Lucca?”

He turned to look at Juliet. She looked so
young and innocent, and perhaps she was compared to him. He wanted
to reach for her, hold her, and tell her he’d keep her safe, but he
could tell her nothing. With the weight of his father’s presence,
crushing down on him, his pledge would be unworthy. He done things
he wasn’t proud of. Some of it because his father forced him, but
there were other acts he committed on his own. He had a choice and
he chose the darker path. If she knew who he was, what he was and
what he’d done, the light in her eyes meant for him would dim and
she’d look way with disgust.

“Lucca, are you okay?” Her hand lay on his
arm, warm and comforting.

“I’m fine.” He forced a smile for her
benefit.

Her lips curved. “I know you wanted to talk
about the case. You said there was something you needed to tell
me.”

He did, but it couldn’t be here with his
father so near.

“Can it wait until tomorrow?” she asked.
“Arty and I need to go over what we still need. Tony’s costume is
too tight and a few of the other costumes have seen better
days.”

He placed a hand over hers. She’d given him
the perfect out. “It’s okay. What I have to tell you can wait one
more day.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Lucca hadn’t slept all last night. He
thought his father would make contact with him. His presence
lingered, but he refused to show himself.

Lucca covered his mouth as he yawned. He’d
showered and dressed. His feet carried him into the kitchen for a
much needed cup of coffee. He indulged, letting the warm liquid
slide down his throat with hopes the caffeine worked its magic.

His weapons were within arm’s reach—all his
daggers of different lengths. He wondered what his father was
waiting for, but then the male had always been a coward at heart.
He liked to strike the young, the weak, and when someone’s guard
was down. He didn’t know the meaning of an honorable fight.

Sometime near dawn the heaviness pressing
down on him lifted and he knew his father had gone to whatever
hidey-hole he crawled into in the light of day.

Finishing his coffee, he felt ready to face
Juliet. He’d tell her the truth. Tell her the reasons why he had to
stay away from her.

He strode to the door and swung it opened,
but before he could take a step, Zaiden waylaid him, shoving him
back inside. “What the hell?” Lucca shoved him back. He should have
sensed Zaiden’s arrival, felt the preternatural shift, but with his
lack of sleep, he let his guard down.

“No, that’s my question, you bastard.”
Zaiden’s fist plowed into Lucca’s nose. He staggered back holding
his face, blood oozing between his fingers.

Zaiden was many things: ruthless, precise,
and a warrior you wanted at your back. Lucca spent many centuries
with this Watcher and knew his moods. Zaiden didn’t lose his cool
even if the odds were stacked against him. Whatever he did to piss
off Zaiden, it was on a personal level. The Watcher’s eyes blazed
brighter, the blue almost nonexistent as his power charged to spark
fire.

“Do you mind telling me what has you all hot
and ready to blaze me into fried toast?” With the back of his hand,
Lucca wiped the trickle of blood from his nose.

“You told Blaize about me and Sarice.”

Lucca was rather surprised Zaiden figured
out so quickly that it was him, and even more surprised the Watcher
cared. He thought his affair with Sarice would be a fleeting
attraction. Perhaps he’d been wrong. “I didn’t say anything that
isn’t true,” he defended himself.

Right before his banishment, he witnessed
Zaiden after one of his little private sessions of
suck-me-dry
with the Darklin. The puncture wounds had yet to
heal and he could smell Sarice’s scent all over him. It hadn’t been
difficult to realize what went down behind closed doors.

Zaiden’s nose flared as he inhaled, keeping
his anger back by a thread. “You’re going to tell me what you’re
forcing Blaize to do for you. Then you’re going to tell him the
deal’s off.”

Lucca lifted his brows and snorted. “I
believe the deal is between Blaize and myself.”

Zaiden took a step toward him, his fist
already balled and ready to use. “You involving Sarice made it my
business. Don’t make me repeat the question.”

Lucca moved around the coffee table even
though the object would in no means keep Zaiden from plowing his
fist into him again. “I asked him to do me a favor. It’s no big
deal.” He lifted his shoulder in a shrug.
Yeah, Shimmer him to
the Otherworldy realm even though he’d been banished, help him
sneak into the Temple of Moqaddas. Retrieve the Book of Magic and
we’re on our way. Simple. Not!

“You threatened to expose Sarice and my
relationship. It’s a big deal.”