Night Angel (9 page)

Colin stared at the foil packet in her hand. He’d never in his long existence used a condom. He understood how they worked. In theory.

Taking it from her, he followed her to the bed. Juliana’s dark-red hair spilled over the white pillowcases like fire as she lay down, smiling up at him.

She gave him no choice.

He tore open the foil and fumbled with the rubber ring. She sat up, taking it from him.
Let me help you.

Her fingers stroked his length until he pulsed with desire again. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes as she slipped the condom in place, making the nuisance into a sensual tease. He lay over her, sinking back into the warmth of her body. He loathed having the thin barrier between them, but he pushed aside the thought and concentrated on memorizing the sexy curves of her body while fighting to keep his thirst at bay.

Every pulse of her heart became a temptation.

Juliana’s breathing slowed as she dozed in his arms. He watched her face, stroking his hand down the length of her silky hair. What was he doing? What happened to learning her secret and then vanishing from her life? Now he was in her bed, hiding from the world, hiding from the truth.

He sighed and stared at the ceiling. He’d lived a solitary existence for centuries. A relationship with a mortal would only lead to an eternity of heartbreak when he lost her. If she still wanted anything to do with him once she knew the truth, that is.

That he wasn’t a man at all. That Muriel was dead because he didn’t do his duty.

Maybe she never
needed
to know any of it. She could live a happy life, in peace that way. But deep down, he knew that was the wrong thing to do. She deserved to know.

Sunrise was coming. He needed to get back to the farm. He brushed a kiss to her forehead and carefully laid her beside him in the bed. She shifted but didn’t awaken. After he got dressed, he found her pad and flipped to the next page.

He wrote a note and slipped quietly out the door.

Juliana stood alone on the beach, the wind whipping like a tempest around her. In the distance, the banshee still wailed, sending a shiver down her spine. She walked along the rocky shore and noticed a woman in a white dress wading out into the angry waves.

“Come back!” Juliana shouted, but the woman didn’t seem to hear her. Juliana ran, the sand grabbing at her feet, slowing her pace.

The woman was up to her waist in the ocean as Juliana reached the edge of the tide, the cold water jolting her to a standstill when it licked at her ankles. “Wait! Don’t go!”

The woman stopped and slowly turned around.

Juliana screamed, sitting up in her bedroom. Her pulse raced like a fox hunted by horses and hounds. She pulled her hair back from her face with shaky hands.

It was only a dream, she told herself.

But there wasn’t much comfort in that knowledge. Not for her. She went into the bathroom and stared into the mirror. The same woman from her dream, the one in the ocean, looked back at her.

Her arms broke out in goose bumps. The banshee was calling for her.

Benedict sipped his coffee, staring at the newspaper without reading a word. The Night Walker would be hidden until nightfall. This was his chance to plan his next move. Or maybe Colin had a moment of clear thinking and had accepted his offer. Perhaps he’d fled back to his own country already.

Doubtful. During the thousand years he’d butted heads with the Night Walker, Colin’s noble streak never faltered.

However he seemed different somehow. He’d stood and fought Benedict as a man, no hiding and shifting and flying. But why?

He took a bite of his scone, washing the bland bread down with his black coffee. Food held no taste or fulfillment for an aughisky. Human flesh sated his hunger, but he had to keep up appearances.

The woman from the pub had been a spontaneous kill. In truth, he hadn’t even been hungry, but after discovering the Night Walker inside Juliana’s florist shop, he’d walked away agitated. Only two things released his aggressions: killing and sex

The woman from the pub had helped him with both.

He’d come through her doors for a pint to collect his thoughts, but he hadn’t been able to help overhearing her talking to an old man at the bar about her cousin, Juliana. It had seemed Colin, the outlander, was taking
his
Juliana on a date.

His.
Due to her hearing loss, Juliana was immune to Benedict’s hypnotic voice. She was a rare challenge. A chance to win a prize without using his powers. This woman would love him of her own accord. He’d gained her trust through short visits in her shop, visits he had come to look forward to. She’d seemed to enjoy his company, as well, and not because she was under his spell. He’d earned her affection on his own merits. Talking to her had become a bright spot in his days.

And now the Night Walker had swooped in to steal her from him.

When he’d left the pub with Juliana’s cousin, his intention had been to have sex with her to relieve his frustrations. That was all. But while he’d sated his appetite for physical pleasure, a plot had formed, a beautiful way to wound the Night Walker, and at the same time, turn Juliana against Colin.

He’d shifted his form and carried her cousin to a watery grave. A murder he would lead Juliana to believe Colin had committed.

Folding his newspaper, he threw away his coffee and stepped into the sun. Time to set his plan in motion.

Her dream left her so dazed that she almost didn’t notice Colin was gone. Almost. She sipped her tea at the table, rereading the note he’d left:

Please forgive me for leaving before you woke. I did not want to disrupt your dreams. I have business to take care of at the farm today, but I need to speak with you about Muriel’s disappearance, and… My angel, there is so much I need to tell you. Tonight. Wait up for me, and please be careful.

All my heart,

Colin

Muriel. She closed her eyes, sending up a prayer for her cousin’s safety. With a sigh, she read the note again. She had plenty to tell Colin, too, about her dreams. Again, he’d slipped away before she could warn him.

But after last night’s dream, she was fairly certain the banshee’s call was for her and her alone. Colin and Benedict hadn’t haunted this dream, just her spirit, surrendering to an angry ocean.

Taking another sip of tea, she forced the vision from her mind and focused on Colin’s note again. She tried not to obsess over the words
my angel
and
all my heart
, reminding herself that she only met him a few days ago. But after the intensity of their union, she was starting to believe her grandmother’s old stories about the heart recognizing its true mate right away.

How else could she explain the depth of emotions she’d experienced in his arms, the honesty in his eyes when he’d bared his scars? In turn, she’d trusted him with her voice, and he’d freed her of her inhibitions. She’d never experienced such a deep emotional connection. Ever.

Outside, birds fluttered past her window to their feeder, oblivious to the sudden changes in her life. The world appeared unchanged, but she would never be the same. Juliana folded the note and tucked it into her apron, praying for a busy day in the shop; otherwise she’d be a prisoner of the clock—again—waiting for the sun to go down. Waiting to hear from Colin.

The morning rushed by with bouquet purchases and a get-well floral arrangement. Phone orders came to her through a service that took the verbal sales and then emailed them to her to be fulfilled. It wasn’t ideal, but she was grateful for the work. Busy hands calmed her mind from her worry for Muriel and Colin. She practiced how she would tell him about her dreams so he would understand the danger instead of deciding she was insane. Tricky.

As the afternoon passed by, the shadows lengthened outside. The shop door opened, pulling her from her thoughts. She looked up and smiled at the familiar face.

Benedict! You’re early.

He grinned and gave a playful bow, keeping his face turned upward so she could watch his lips. “And you, my lady, are a sight for sore eyes. You look lovely today.”

Her skin flushed. Could she still be glowing from her evening with Colin? For once she was grateful for the need to write out her conversation. It gave her something else to focus on.

Thank you. What can I get you today?

He glanced at her note and sobered. He moved closer to the counter. “Actually, that’s why I came by early. I’m worried about you.”

Worried?
She frowned.
Why?

“I heard your cousin went missing. Muriel? She owned a pub, right?”

Word traveled fast. She sighed.
The police think she ran away with a man she met on the Internet.

“But you don’t.”

She shook her head.
One of the regulars saw him with her. He’d never seen him before. If Muriel had met a handsome man, she wouldn’t have been able to keep him a secret. I would’ve known, and she would’ve brought him around the pub to show him off.