2. Angel
ANGEL
T he night air cools my skin and settles my racing heart. There’s no way that Robert will ever find me in this place. Hell, I can barely find me in this place!
It’s so quiet in these woods. No predator sounds at all and I overheard another woman talking about her mate and some of the other men making sure that it’s completely safe here. For some reason she made it sound like they were out there hunting. But I never see any guns in this area. Or bow and arrows or any other kind of weapon. So how are they hunting?
And why do they call their spouse a mate? What’s going on around here?
It’s just weird. And it makes me feel like I’m missing something big.
A scream echoes all around me and I stiffen, stopping in my tracks. A wolf’s snap and snarl whispers on the night wind. Another scream and then the night erupts with snapping and cracking all around me. I whip around, my eyes straining in the darkness. There’s something out here. Hell! It sounds like there’s a lot of something out here. Something big and scary and it’s coming closer!
My heart slams into my chest as a huge silver gray wolf runs past me, my eyes widening when I see the woman clinging to its back.
“No way!” I hiss under my breath. The wolf and the woman disappear and then something stalls close to me. Something hot and heavy stirs in the chilly night air.
“Hello?” I call out, my throat tightening with fear. I can’t breathe, my chest tight and heavy, my heart fluttering wildly.
“Hello, my dear. What are you doing out here alone, angel?”
“How did you know my name?” I back away, narrowing my eyes and fighting the urge to run.
“I’ve always known your name. It’s part of me. Part of my soul.” His dark eyes blaze with fire and brimstone and I smell burning on the air.
He moves closer and there’s something predatory in his gaze. “I’m just messing with you, Angel. Don’t you remember me? I remember you lighting up that tenement in Cheyenne.”
Now I vaguely remember the little boy with the dark, sad eyes and the parents that didn’t pay a helluva lot of attention to where he was or what he was doing at any given time.
“Anders?” I move closer and there’s something immediate. Something wanting rears up inside me and I bite my lip, not sure what is happening. I feel achy and chills run down my arms and legs, fire building in my belly.
If I didn’t know that I felt fine, I’d think that I was coming down with something. A flu or something along those lines.
“Where did you go? I missed you. I cried for days.” I actually felt his loss for years. My own parents were worthless drug dealers and lost me to the system when I was thirteen. But unfortunately since they weren’t dead, I had to go through the seesaw of being taken away from them and then having them promise to be better. Straightening up for long enough to get me back. And then it was the same old routine of good, loving parents until they went back to the drugs and back to selling and then they’d forget about me all over again. I lost count of the number of times I sat at the school and waited for them to come pick me up, just to finally have to be taken to child protective services when they couldn’t track them down. Most likely they were sleeping off one of their drug-fueled, sexual binges and just forgot about me.
I finally ran away at sixteen and spent the next ten years taking care of myself. I’ve been all over the country. But this place is much nicer than most of the places that I’ve been. I’m not in any big rush to leave.
“My parents passed away and I was taken by the state.” So we had that in common. But there’s something strange and shifty in his eyes that makes me think that he’s lying. But I don’t know why? Is he trying to get my sympathy? Trying to get close to me again when he’s not the boy I remember?
“I hope that you had a good childhood.” I snort under my breath. Yeah, no that wasn’t even remotely close to what I had.
“One day there’s someone to brighten up your days. A light in the dark.”
He seems a manifestation of the dark. His eyes are so deep that they look black. His firm mouth barely quirks when he smiles. Mostly he’s like a dog chasing prey. Focused. So damn focused that it’s scary.
I touch his skin and my whole body fires up. A flame lights in my belly and flashes out into my fingers, tingling up and down my arms and legs.
I back away and eye him uncertainly. “I need to get back home. I’ve got work in the morning.”
“What do you do?”
“I work in the coffee shop in town. You should come in sometime. I’ll take good care of you.” I hesitate and my smile fades when he doesn’t smile back. “Well, for old time’s sake anyway.”
He nods his head but says nothing.
I turn and hurry away from him but the whole way home, I sense him out there following along behind me, his soft steps barely shifting the leaves around us.
And when I go inside my little house and stand at the window, closing the curtains, the glow of eyes pierces the night and I shiver, unsure if I’m terrified or intrigued.
No human has eyes like that. And yet, somehow I know it’s him. He’s watching me, waiting.
But what for?