Chapter Eleven-Giselle
CHAPTER ELEVEN-GISELLE
A couple of hours of girl time is exactly what I needed to start feeling like my old self.
Angel’s gone quiet though, and I’m not sure how to start up a conversation with him. I want to thank him for what he did.
For coming to Florida to get me. For bringing me back home to see my friends.
I mean, family is great. I love mine. But I feel sort of lost in all the noise that comes with them sometimes.
Sometimes it’s nice to just be with people you choose. And I chose Anna a long time ago. Same way I chose Maria, if only recently.
Sure, their men are a little scary, But that’s okay. They treat them well, and that is all I need to know.
He pulls up at the valet stand and I recognize the building where Anna first came to live with Nico. It’s gorgeous, and I am thrilled they are letting me stay.
“If you pop the trunk, I can get my bag and the box?—”
I sigh as Angel steps out of the car. He walks to my door first, cutting off the attendant who was already making strides towards it. Angel says something and the man blushes, moving to the back of the vehicle to unload it.
The door opens and I take Angel’s hand warily. I’m not ready for the tiny bolts of electricity that go zipping down my arm and spine, and I gasp.
“You okay?” he asks, and I nod, a small, fake smile on my lips.
It’s after four o’clock, but the September sun is relentless. Sometimes I think it feels warmer now than it did in June.
“Everything goes upstairs,” Angel says to the attendant, then he places his hand on the small of my back and guides me to the door.
I’m not really paying attention as we ride in the elevator. His hand is no longer touching me. Angel is busy with work, texting someone on his phone. But I still feel the impression of his touch. Like he branded me somehow.
And I wonder how I might feel if he really did. Brand me, that is.
Would I be happy and content like Anna and Maria if this big, powerful man claimed me as his?
I’m scared of the truth, so I ignore the entire thing.
I am supposed to meet the girls at the Den tonight. A sort of impromptu welcome home party, and I am excited. Thank goodness I still have a few cute outfits to choose from in my suitcase, because unfortunately, everything else I owned went up in smoke.
The elevator doors open, and I walk into the hallway. I startle as an enormous bald man with hulking muscles stands outside the door.
“Boss,” he nods his head at Angel and moves out of the way, going to stand behind the security desk.
Angel dips his chin and moves to the biometric pad, placing his hand on it. I’ve seen Anna do it once or twice, and I’m curious as to why Angel has access.
“Go inside, Koukla,” he says, nudging me forward, and I move ahead of him.
“Wow, they really changed everything,” I murmur, and take in all the new furniture and the paint on the walls.
My eyes immediately go to an enormous glass box sitting on a dark wood shelf that seems to be made for it. There are several glass boxes on the shelf.
Wait.
It’s like a fish tank, but there’s no water. My brain searches for the word.
Terrarium.
That’s it. When there is no water inside, it is a terrarium.
I look closer and my heart pounds. Inside the largest one, I see something moving. It is dark and coiled, but when it slithers, light reflects off the scales, making its skin glitter like a thousand black diamonds.
“Oh my God,” I murmur.
“That’s Buffy. She can’t hurt you,” Angel says from behind me.
I eye the slithering serpent, and I think maybe he’s lost his mind. She looks pretty fucking lethal to me.
Wait. Did he just say?
“Buffy? Like the Vampire Slayer?” I ask, and I can’t hide my grin.
“Heck yeah,” he replies, and I watch in shock as his cheeks go a dusky shade of pink as he walks up to the tank and eyes the little beastie.
“She’s a badass lady. I had to give her a badass name.”
I nod in approval.
He isn’t wrong.
Buffy is a badass name.
I guess it makes sense for Nico to have a pet snake, or several. He is the king of the Vipers, after all. And I imagine it’s not living with them because Anna doesn’t want a snake around the baby.
Makes sense.
I have to admit the idea of that reptile is as exciting to me as it is frightening. Buffy lifts her head, and I watch with my eyes wide as her fork tongue snakes out of her mouth.
“She’s scenting the air. Senses something new and sweet,” Angel murmurs, and his voice is so deep it goes right through me.
I move closer to the tank. Buffy is covered in glittering black scales. Her head is small and really, she doesn’t look all that tough.
But I know a little bit about snakes. They don’t have to be scary to be deadly.
“You wanna touch her?” Angel asks from right behind me.
“Who me? No, I’m not brave enough.”
I bite my lip, completely mesmerized by the movement within the glass tank. Buffy is thin, but she must be about six feet long. The tank is clean. I notice a large flat rock and a small branch inside.
“Now, that is something we’ll have to agree to disagree. You’re plenty brave, Koukla. And plenty smart not to want to get close to her. Buffy here is a black mamba, one of the deadliest snakes in the world.”
“Oh my God! And you want me to touch her?” I ask, and glare at him.
“I asked you if you wanted to touch her. I never said I wanted you to,” he corrects, and I roll my eyes at him.
“Same difference.”
“Don’t worry, Little Doll. I wouldn’t let her hurt you. But if she did, rest assured in that little refrigerator beneath her habitat I have plenty of antivenin.”
“Antivenin?”
“Sure. Do you know how mamba’s attack? They’re fast as lightning. First thing you feel is their fangs slicing through your skin. Next, your limbs start to tingle. And within minutes, your entire central nervous system is destroyed. A bite victim who doesn’t get treated with antivenin suffers from painful seizures before they suffocate to death.”
“That sounds horrible.”
My eyes go wide. I wonder why anyone would want a creature like this in their midst.
“It is. And I’ve been bitten a few times. That’s why the antivenin. I work with a local lab. I milk Buffy for her venom once a month, and they provide the antivenin.”
Angel is looking at Buffy as she slowly moves about her tank. His icy pale eyes track her movements, and I’m tracking his.
I can’t help it.
“Holy shit, Angel. Sounds dangerous,” I whisper.
“It is if you don’t know what you’re doing. When you handle something like that, just remember, looks can be deceiving. Buffy might be small, but her venom is stronger than her bite.”
“Oh,” I murmur, and when I turn my head, he’s right there.
I sway on my feet, and the responding rumble that comes from his chest tells me he notices.
Shit. I know I should know better. I should stay away from him.
But there is something about Angel that makes me want to reach out and touch him whenever he’s close.
Stop it. He’s not yours.
“You, uh, want something to drink?”
Angel takes a step back, breaking the spell. I shake my head. But he’s busy looking at where I have my hand pressed down over my heart. A subconscious attempt to control my runaway emotions, I guess.
I clear my throat and move to drop my hand, but he’s faster than me. One big palm goes over mine, and I freeze. My chest rises and falls, and I squirm in place, trying so hard to not let him see how much I like his hands on me.
It’s dumb. I mean, Angel knows I like his touches. How could he not?
He makes a humming sound and tucks a curl behind my ear. Then he turns away, leaving me with my thoughts and Buffy the badass snake.
I’m aware of him on the periphery of my vision. Angel takes his phone and keys out of his pocket. He puts them in a bowl by the door.
I frown.
It’s so homey.
But I guess he would be at home here. Nico is his boss, his king , and his cousin.
I imagine being the Enforcer for the Vipers means he comes and goes often. Kind of like how he is with women. The thought makes my chest squeeze painfully and I close my eyes.
Don’t go there , I tell myself, turning to peruse the rest of the condo.
There’s a ladder and a toolbox along with a couple of crates holding what looks like tiles inside sitting in the hallway, and I wonder if the guest bathroom is also getting a remodel.
“Is the bedroom this way?” I ask, and yes, I am keenly aware the second I let the word come out of my mouth that I should have just stayed quiet.
Last thing I need to do is think about Angel and a bed in the same sentence.
“Hang on a second. Your stuff is here,” he says and walks back to the door.
I watch as he places the box with the stuff from my apartment on the floor and takes my small suitcase from the guard.
“Okay. Let’s get these to the bedroom,” he murmurs, and gestures for me to move in front of him.
I walk down the hall slowly, aware that Angel is stalking behind me on silent feet. I don’t know how he moves so quietly for such a big man, but he does.
Licking my lips as I try to settle my racing heartbeat, and I wonder in a moment of panic if he can hear it. I push the thought away.
Angel might look like a god. I mean, he has all the intensity and bad boy charm of Loki with the body of Thor, but he’s only a man.
A fine as fuck man, but still a man.
Angel is not mine. I shouldn’t be having any thoughts about him whatsoever.
Just keep telling yourself that, Sisi.