Destiny Strikes (4 page)

“Stop, Fallon, what the hell are you doing?”

A burst of power pushed at her and she ended up underneath him. Wallace tried to improve his hold. Not one to give up, she wrapped her hand around his wrist and squeezed, pulling down.

He loosened his hold. Due to the momentum and downward arch, the hard plastic of the device popped her in the mouth. As pain exploded, an electric current discharged from her fingertips and enclosed Wallace’s wrist.

Her fingers sank into tissue and bone as she inhaled the stench of sizzling flesh, the wound cauterizing as her fingers and palm passed through. Both were stunned speechless. In triumph, she held the remains of a fried controller and brother’s detached hand.

He toppled off her when she shot to her feet.

In the moments Avedon raced across the room, and tried comforting Wallace, Fallon knew things would never be the same again.

To cement her spiral into the world of the unhinged, she smiled and waved the severed hand at him.

“What the hell’s got into you, Fallon?” Avedon shouted.

She winked at Wallace, his glittering gaze pinning her to the spot as his handsome features contorted in agony.

She’d be locked inside a cage, never to see the light of day if she let on about the dual fight she waged not to become evil.

What spilled from her lips was as crazy as her actions.

“You do remember the era in which we lived? The proverb that still holds weight in some parts of the world.” With a dismissive air, she waved his hand at him in a lecturing fashion. “‘If it offends thee, cut it off.’ Well, I just reminded you to keep your hand off my stuff.”

Her actions today were like a tremendous screw she’d driven into her own coffin. Now the question was, what Michael was going to do about it?

CHAPTER 2

Two weeks later

Seagrove, North Carolina

Michael had wasted precious little time getting her out of Seattle.

Her oldest brother arrived at Avedon’s doorstep, assessed both tales of how the mutilation occurred, and then given Fallon an hour to pack a few belongings. His parting words, an echo she couldn’t shake, “
This has to end. With so much at stake for our kind, you’d condemn us all. I won’t see you hunted by Gabriel because you damn well know none of us will see you hurt.”

Anxiety elicited icy fingers of dread throughout her body. Some sentences were worse than death and a conjured image of flesh stripped off an immortals body and Gabriel with a wicked, yet merciless smile on his beautiful, chiseled face during the peeling process. Indelibly one of Heaven’s most powerful warriors, Fallon avoided being on his bad side.

Black helmet protecting her eyes, she glanced up into the pitch-black sky and flashes forking behind dark clouds. Unease tickled the short hairs at the back of her neck.

Speaking of not getting on The Archangel’s short list, the coming storm overhead was also driving Fallon’s troublesome inner beast. It hungered for destruction.

Her wrist ached as she tightened her grip on the throttle. Capped well over the breakneck speed of a hundred, she barreled down the Two-Twenty South Bypass straightaway.

How the hell was she to control herself with powerful emotions like: fear, loneliness, anger, and hurt—vying for her darker side to be set free. Only then, could she let go and release her power. Which would most likely see her in more trouble and her brothers brought down with her.

The soothing growl from her well-maintained V-Twin SS 883 motor created a vibration between her legs that alleviated none of her tension. In fact, SAM’s ability to turn every muscle in her body to jelly better than any masseur decreased with every mile.

A large, green highway sign lit by neon blue headlights loomed before her and announced her exit. Shaking with the need to hold it together, she contemplated pulling to the side of the off-ramp to take a much-needed shot from the bottle of Jack Daniels in her saddlebag just to take the edge off.

Cresting the incline that led into town, she said a special prayer, just to be on the safe side.

“Lord, I’ve tried my best to value the safety of humans. Lately, I couldn’t tell you what’s wrong with me. For sanity’s sake and that of my family, just let me make it to my destination without anyone dying.”

Minutes later, she found herself pulled over by an unmarked patrol car. Well, so much for earnest prayer.

The officer flashed a badge but was out of uniform, not even a shiny highway patrol I.D. tag to prove his authority. As he stood ridged in front of her, she argued, “What do you mean I’ve got an open container?”

“I’d probably be in a better mood if I had,”
she mumbled.

Fallon yanked the bottle of Jack up then back. With the two-second face time, she hoped he saw the seal was unbroken. It’d be her luck he missed it, especially with those dark glasses on. Who in the hell wore shades at night, unless they were hung-over or cranked up? The shield she finally spied attached at his hip was real, but there was something fishy about him.

Ignoring the domineering stance, her lower abdomen clenched despite her best effort not to react to him. If he wasn’t harassing her on her worst night ever, she might be impressed by the remarkable physique, the SPD insignia T-shirt, and dark blue jeans defined.

However, nothing he said or did this night made sense.

“Ma’am, I don’t see why you’d have a bottle out in the open when there’re two perfectly good saddlebags on either side of you.”

“So what? Is there a crime against holding liquor that I’m not aware of? I just showed you it wasn’t open.”

His lifted brow and stoic silence incensed her, yet the niggling suspicion more was going on here than she wanted to be caught in kept her ass stuck to the seat until she figured out a way to stow the bottle without making contact with the saddlebag’s metal buckle. Literally, sparks would fly.

Angled in an uncomfortable side position, he’d yet to notice dancing thin purple-blue arcs flickering off her exposed fingers searching for a place in which to ground. Pressing the smooth hardness of the bottle closer against her body, contained lightning in a bottle sounded good right about now if it got them both out of this situation unscathed.

Dammit it all to hell!

Dealing with this shit was crazy. One peek at his stiffened stance, fingers flexing at the ready, and shoulders back, his ultimate intentions for her if she didn’t act right were clear.
Do not pass go. Go straight to jail.

As far as problems went, more than finding herself in this bind, and unable to overlook a deadly storm’s approach, even charged air and electric buildup caused havoc with her system, the bizarre heightened awareness of the officer stirred the pot for a different kind of trouble.

“What the hell am I thinking? I’m already on probation,” slipped out before she knew it.

His “Come again,” didn’t register as much as the way the officer’s body stiffened. She sucked in a stunned breath as a blast of power washed over her. Unlike the holy beauty of Gabriel and shades obstructing her view, something indefinable stuck her as familiar about him.

Unmistakable as the tiny hairs rising along her flesh, nothing but
human
registered back when she checked for the dynamic makeup of energy all angels shared with the Creator.

This man had a soul. Angels did not. That simple.

Dismissing him, she performed a quick scan of the area for the source alerting her of angelic presence and danger. Releasing the breath she hadn’t been aware of holding, she tried to shake the feeling.

Her bad mood and the effort it took to stem the effects the approaching storm had probably wreaked havoc with her senses.

The officer’s hand, inching closer to his service piece, was a simple blip on her threat radar.

However, one problem at a time. He’d obviously taken her comment about being on probation the wrong way, and probably scouting the area as formulating a plan of escape. Idiot.

Rolling her eyes, her gaze settled with interest on the hand that rested on the butt of his service pistol as he spoke.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to get at, Ma’am, but if you want to add resisting arrest to any charges you receive tonight, I’d be willing to oblige you.”

Her skin itched as self-preservation held her in check. She held her hands up.

“I’m innocent.” She almost choked on the lie. “Calm down, big boy! That came out wrong. I’m a model law-abiding citizen. I’m not on any kind of restrictions.”

The officer snorted, folding his bulging arms over his massive chest. The ease with which he widened his stance made her mouth salivate and lower abdomen flex in response.

For the first time in a thousand years, an erotically detailed real-time fantasy of herself locked together with the officer nearly stroked her out.

“I’m already laid out for a casket. Doing anything naughty would not only bury me, but him too,” she grumbled, shoulders drooping.

“Ma’am, I can’t understand you when you’re mumbling behind the helmet. If you can remove it and step off the motorcycle, we can proceed.”

“How about I don’t and say we did?” Fallon countered.

His stunned expression was priceless to behold. “Are you asking me to be reasonable? I might have been prone to do it ten minutes ago if you had cooperated.”

“I wonder what an ass would do in this situation. You seem like an expert. Any pointers?” Fallon asked with interest, testing his tolerance because she no longer gave a damn.

“Maybe so, Ma’am, but it’s not my ass in trouble right now.”

A beautiful thin line of lightning forked out from the approaching storm and struck about five miles away from where they were standing. The aftershock of thunder reached the earth under their feet and trembled as it began to spread in rippling waves.

“Look, I’m just trying to get home. Can you cut me some slack tonight?” she asked sincerely, nervous energy making her twitch.

Crickets chirped, over his silence.

Okay. If he wanted her off so damn bad, then let him deal with the consequences.

CHAPTER 3

When it came to manhandling women, most officers considered it a last resort without female backup. Travis’s time on the force had been fortunate never to see the day. However, the way she refused to get off her motorcycle and kept glancing around, he hoped his hand wouldn’t be forced now. The headache he’d been dealing with before the female version of Ghost Rider showed up was getting worse.

He raised his hand and scrubbed a knuckle over his mouth, before sliding his thumb and forefinger under the offensive protection that hid his eyes. Two fingers dug into the ache, throbbing in intensity.

Diagnosed at birth with a medical condition that had no definition or cure, his discomfort had flat-lined to nonstop over the past two weeks. Now, the intolerable pain weakened his knees.

Breathing deep, he pressed harder. He wasn’t even supposed to be on patrol. Covering for a fellow officer, the man’s four-month-old daughter and her trip to the ER took precedence over any pain or grief Travis endured now.

“If I get off now, what do I do with my hands?”

Her husky remark caught him off guard. Distracted maybe a minute, she’d finally removed her head gear and the clear sultriness of her voice sent a shaft of pure yearning straight to his cock. This was so not the time or place.

Unexpected desire and the vicious headache made his voice harsh.

“Keep up the sarcasm, and they’ll be behind your back, in cuffs.”

She sniffed. “You’re welcome to try.”

Stunned over the woman’s lack of respect and grasp on the seriousness of the trouble she could be in, he reexamined the individual slowly shaking her head. The mute glow of street lamps shadowed her face, breasts, thighs, and endless legs.

“Do you like what you see? If it weren’t for the silliness of this situation, I’d say you’re a pretty decent specimen, too.”

“Ma’am, you’re sadly mistaken if you think any sexual overture will change your circumstances.” Her spine stiffened under his watchful gaze. “For the last time, step away, and put the bottle down on the seat.” He looked pointedly at the bottle tucked against her crotch.

She removed the helmet and shook out thick blond hair. The bobbed locks slanted downward grazing the sides of her chin.

Then placing the DOT head cover on the seat, her hands fisted on her thighs, and several strands lifted with the increased breeze as her eyes rose heavenward.

Despite all the lights on Main Street, an ill-omened gloom enclosed them. With each minute passing, the prickle along his spine intensified.

“Why do you keep referring to me as Ma’am?” she asked.

“It’s a southern courtesy. Now, get off the bike, Ma’am.”

Cords of lightning flashed about a mile away. The ricocheting sonic explosion answered almost immediately by mighty percussions that lasted well after a curtain of obsidian engulfed the night sky again.

Lingering vibrations rippled under the soles of his boots as the ground shuddered. The woman’s sultry laugh delivered a second punch of pure fire to his groin that contradicted any danger present.

“Why didn’t you just say so, lover?”

After securing her helmet on the seat off the bike, she then avoided eye contact before stalking off in the opposite direction.

“You really don’t want to do that, Miss.”

He’d obviously upset her when she turned back to him with a glare. The flash of lightning highlighted her pinched expression. Her full bottom lip popped out from its clasp between her teeth. The wet sheen took his breath. Travis frowned over his helpless fascination with the full bow-shaped lips and their strange blue tint.

She blazed a trail back in his direction.

With a heavy gaze, and thoughts of having never attended a runway show in his life, the enticing full swaying hips and long-legged stride of any Victoria Secret model captured his full attention. Gusts of wind carried her with each step closer.

Face-to-face and standing near enough to Travis that a fitted set of his handcuffs in the space left between them would prove challenging, electric blue eyes swallowed the whites of her eyes. Ice-cold anger burned in their depth, contradicting the heat radiating from her body, which fed a steady stream of desire straight into his.

As good as any physical stab at unbalancing him, the proximity worked. His blood pumped faster and he restrained the need to cross his arms to prove just how much room she’d left between him and her breasts. The mood was broken when her lips parted.

“Look. I'm well aware you're not going to let me go with a warning. If you don’t mind, let’s get this over with. Then, maybe I can get the hell out of here. My brother, who’s on the force, is going to have a field day with this.

Shrugging, he said, “And”? His obvious lack of concern caused her lashes to brush her reddened cheeks briefly.

“I know my rights.” She paused then continued. “And this isn't what I would call due-process. My saddlebag could just be full. Then again, how you saw me tuck the bottle between my legs under that stoplight is beyond me. Is it illegal to hold a beverage while driving? Hell. You could arrest a lot more people on their way to work every morning. Did you think of that?”

She jammed her hands into her seat pockets, clearly unaware her breasts grazed his chest. He accepted the unspoken challenge in her blue gaze. Willpower and resolved crushed the desire to know if the powder blue lips tasted like cotton candy.

“Ma’am.” He leaned in close, their breaths mingled. “This isn’t a case of who you know or what you know. This town is mine to protect. If, for any reason, I find a person becomes a threat”—the tips of their noses touched and ignored the spark tingling the edge of his—“I’ll handle the problem. Now, step back before I add ‘hindrance of an officer in his duties’ to what could be considered a growing list of charges.”

Travis placed his right hand over the firearm holstered at his side. She was the very definition of trouble: argumentative, deceptive, and dangerously beautiful. Pity the foolish sap who failed to heed the warning signs. Beauty could be deadly.

She stepped away, giving him some much-needed breathing room, held up her hands, and huffed. “I guess I’m at your mercy.”

“Since you seem familiar with this procedure, this shouldn’t take long.” He recited the mandatory test requirements. “If at any time I have to repeat myself, the test will end. If I feel you haven’t been assessed properly or you refuse any part of the test, at that point you will be arrested. Do you understand the instructions you’ve been given?” He waited for her answer.

“Blah, blah, blah”

Stiletto-heeled boots added height and mastery to the long-legged frame. Very few people were adept with stopping and holding a bike steady with footgear like hers, and Travis couldn’t help but be impressed by the full swaying hips as she sashayed through each portion of the test.

She passed.

Travis concluded she would not be a threat to anyone, except perhaps to his sanity this late at night.

“I need you to hand over . . .” he began, but deafening rumbles of thunder drowned out the rest.

The wind picked up speed. A bolt of lightning struck the field behind the SunTrust Bank across the street. In its flash, Travis eyed the woman who looked like a goddess in her prime: beautiful, uncontrolled, and dangerous. With a sequencing round of thunder, his hand wrapped around her wrist and with the slightest yank, her body crashed against him.

As if struck by the thunderbolt, his muscles seized and blood coursed through his veins, firing his nerve-endings. Travis dug his fingers into her shoulder, drawing her closer. Caught between unimaginable bliss and crushing pain, through clenched teeth, he hissed, “We have to leave. Now.”

“Let me go, you jackass!” She shoved against his chest. “You can leave if you want, but if I go anywhere, it will be home.”

Crushing need hammered at him. He loathed the idea of her freedom. On the other hand, it could’ve been his throbbing cock. Or the indecision playing havoc with his scrambled brain cells. Her growled confession next to his ear startled him.

“I can’t kill him. I’ve already hurt so many,” snapped him out of whatever connection bound them together, she shoved harder at his chest.

Travis met her gaze, and damned if he didn’t see twin bolts of lightning strike within the blue depths of her eyes.

Her final thrust forced them to separate. The impact of power struck him between his breastplate, sending him two steps back. Pain flared again. He looked down. His clothes and skin were unmarred but why did his tattoo feel like it was on fire? He rubbed the sore spot.

His gaze jerked up. Not far from him, she shook out her shoulders, as if she were covered in ants, and couldn’t get them off fast enough.

Travis searched for focus beyond his disgraceful one-sided lust.

The surrounding area and buildings appeared unharmed. Except for his bruised ego, no damage had been done, other than a few blackened circles here and there. All signs of the storm had disappeared.

Had he ever seen a storm pass so quickly?

Scrubbing a hand over his scruffy face, he chanced a glance in her direction. With slender hands on her hips, she tapped one foot on the asphalt, apparently time spent in his embrace put behind her.

“I don’t know what just happened,” he said. “And I don’t care to dwell on it. You passed the sobriety test, and the bottle wasn’t open. But the law is clear. Alcohol and driving don’t mix.” He held out his hand. “By the way, I’ll need to see your license, insurance, and registration.” The probation incident she mentioned earlier needed confirmation.

Smug satisfaction transformed her lips. Then she folded her arms under her generous breasts, ignoring his order in favor of riling him. “What? Now you’re asking? Isn’t that a major screw-up in procedure, Officer?”

Husky laughter followed her as she turned and headed over to her motorcycle then rummaged through the left saddlebag. She returned with the information he’d asked for.

Travis took the documents to his car, inputted them into the database, and verified the info that came in. He stepped from the car, disconcerted. In his entire career, he’d never been so careless.

Something about her cockiness looked sexy, with her leaning casually on his 2014 Ford Mustang cruiser. Pushing his shades higher, he noticed a strange odor of burnt rubber tinging the air as he neared her.

“All right, Fallon, your record is clean. You’re free to leave,” he said, handing her papers over.

“Thank you, Officer. This turned out to be an electrifying night despite my fears.” One slender finger slid down the hood of his car. Then she walked away with an oddly mischievous smirk gracing her lips.

Perplexed, his gaze slid from her to his car. When he glanced in her direction again, he saw that her helmet was in place as the bike roared to life. Walking the bike on the road, she sent him a saucy wink before flipping the faceplate down and riding off.

Inside his car, Travis waited until he could no longer hear her motorcycle before turning the patrol car’s ignition switch.
Click.
.

Just great, his damned car had died.

Shaking his head, he placed a call to the town towing yard.

Checking his watch, he saw it was two hours before midnight.

A gravel-filled voice announced, “Po’ Boys Towing. What can I do for you?”

“This is officer Orion.”

“What’s up, Travis? You got a car for me to pick up?”

“Yeah. Mine.”

“Where are you?” he asked. “You need a ride too.”

“I’m not far from the office. The car died by the SunTrust on Main Street. I’ll just walk.”

Before ending the call, Travis told the mechanic what limited information he had on the car prior to it malfunctioning.

Travis slammed his palm against the steering wheel.

Leaning his head against the headrest, he closed his eyes. When his fingers encountered the dark shades pinching the bridge of his nose, he removed them and threw the glasses onto the passenger seat. Minutes later, habit made him pick up the bottle of tiny tablets that took the edge off his worst headaches. With his hand cupped inches from his mouth, it hit him. The caplets were useless when there wasn’t a damn thing wrong with him.

How had he not noticed until now? What was different?

A few oncoming drivers forgot to dim their headlamps, blinding him as they lit up the interior of his car.

Brake lights from the slowly passing car highlighted his reflection through the drivers’ side window. Adjusting the rearview mirror, he stared at his reflection in horrified fascination. Eyes swallowed in obsidian, without visible whites, and dotted with light-gold flecks weren’t the eye color staring back at him.

Pulling the flesh around both sockets, he thought his breathing sounded overly loud. But it was hard to remain calm. Years of looking like a freak from a Comic-Con convention, something had happened to restore the violet eye color he’d been born with? Uncertainty over supposed miracles and pushing thoughts of Fallon Strikes out of his mind, one question plagued Travis the rest of his shift. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?