Beauty Awakened (Angels of the Dark) (9 page)

She bit her lip. “I’ve been busy.”

“Lesson number one,” he said. “People give priority to what’s important to them.”

“That’s true, but I have to work two jobs. I’ve had to care for my sister. I’ve had to sleep whenever possible.”

“And you couldn’t spare a minute here, and a minute there? Of course you could have! Instead, you give me excuses.”

And excuses weren’t allowed in Mr. Koldo’s classroom, obviously. He was going to be fun to hang with, wasn’t he? “Oh, yeah, well, how am I supposed to do the peace-and-joy thing if you continue to be mean to me?”

He jolted a step backward, as though shocked. “I’m not mean.”

She peered at him, doing her best to radiate mock sincerity. “Koldo, do you know the definition of the word
mean?
”

“‘Nasty. Unkind. Cruel.’”

“Maybe for some. But the Nicola Lane definition is ‘pain in my rear.’”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I will endeavor to be nicer, then.”

She suddenly felt a little guilty for teasing him. He’d taken her seriously. “Will you at least give me a hint? Maybe tell me where you go when you vanish?”

“I go to the spirit realm,” he said, watching her intensely.

“So...you’re a ghost?” As she’d first suspected?

He flashed his teeth in a fearsome scowl. “Ghosts do not exist.”

Wow. “O-kay.” There was a glimpse of the Viking pillager from the elevator. The one who had a major beef with lies. “So you’re not a ghost. Got it.”

“There are no ghosts,” he reiterated sharply. “Human spirits go up or down, but they never linger or come back. What people consider ghosts are actually familiar spirits and familiar spirits are dem—” Sighing, he scrubbed a hand down his face. “Never mind. I have more to teach you than I realized.”

A bead of worry she’d told herself she wouldn’t feel joined the guilt. “You won’t change your mind, will you?”

Annnd he flashed his teeth in yet another fearsome scowl. “How could I? A bargain was struck.”

And he was always a man of his word. She’d already known that about him, and had to stop inadvertently insulting his sense of honor. He might stick around no matter what, but she wanted him as happy as she was supposed to be while he was doing it. “Why do you want to teach someone like me, anyway?” Nicola had nothing to offer in return. “And what do you want to teach me? I thought you only wanted me to do the calm, peace, joy thing.”

He looked away, saying, “Perhaps I know what it’s like to suffer one travesty after another, desperate for hope but discovering none.” He studied her sister for a long while. “I just pray Laila proves to be as accepting as you.”

“Would that help her? Save her for more than a few weeks?” A whisper. A desperate rasp.

“Honestly? Only she knows the answer to that. I can teach her what I teach you—and no, I won’t share the details yet. You’re drugged, and will forget the most important parts. I’ll do everything I possibly can to make her feel calm, at peace and joyful.” A flicker of doubt in his eyes, followed by...anger? He shook his head and added, “But will she listen?”

Would she? Laila, who was so stubborn, so hardheaded, she would argue until she ran out of breath. Laila, who possessed the unique ability to tune out anyone at any time. Nicola loved her, but she was highly aware of her faults.

“What you teach us, what we feel, will help us heal?” she asked.

“Yes. I have seen lepers cleansed. I have seen the lame walk and the blind regain their sight.”

“I’ll make her listen, then.” Determination mixed with a heady dose of excitement. Over the years, she had been checked out by hundreds of doctors. A thousand tests had been run. A million procedures and surgeries had been endured. The prognosis had always been the same.

We’re sorry, Miss Lane, but there’s nothing we can do.

Now there was hope for Laila, too.

Koldo’s expression softened as he gazed at her. He actually appeared proud of her. “The only sure way to fail is to give up, Nicola Lane. You aren’t a quitter, I can tell.”

A compliment from so blunt a man was sweeter than words of adoration from any charmer.

“Nicola?”

Nicola jolted at the sound of her sister’s voice. A voice that was rough, the edges broken, but still unbelievably beautiful. “Laila! You’re awake!”

Koldo stepped back, out of the way, and Nicola’s gaze zipped in her sister’s direction. First thing she noticed, the monkey hadn’t returned. The second thing, Laila was glowing.

Though their features were identical, Laila had somehow always been the pretty one. The charismatic one. People had always gravitated to her, hanging upon her every word.

Even Nicola, the serious one, never willing to take a risk, had been enchanted by her.

“I’m thirsty,” Laila mumbled. She was still on her side, with her head propped on her pillow, but now her eyelids were opening and closing slowly and repeatedly, as though she were fighting to stay awake. “I’d really like some water.”

Nicola looked to Koldo. “Will you get—”

But he was no longer there.

Laila frowned, her gaze finally remaining open, and said, “Where’d the doctor go?”

Doctor? Yeah, the title fit Koldo very well, she thought. “I wish I knew.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

L
AILA
WOULD
BE
COMING
home today, far earlier than anyone had expected!

Nicola could barely contain her excitement as she puttered around her office, gathering the files and receipts she needed. Even the fact that Jamila and Sirena were the worst coworkers of all time and Nicola was carrying just as heavy as load as before failed to dampen her good mood. She could do the most pressing tasks tonight, after she had tucked Laila into bed and finished grocery shopping. Who needed sleep, anyway?

“Jamila,” she called.

Silence.

“Sirena?”

Again silence.

Sighing, Nicola closed her bag. Between half-hour bathroom breaks and two-hour-long lunch sabbaticals, the girls barely had time to sit at their desks.

“Your forehead is healing nicely. I’m pleased.”

Nicola’s head snapped up, her gaze colliding with the golden brown of Koldo’s. Instantly her heart sped into a frenzied beat. “You’re here.”

Last night she’d lain in that hospital bed thinking about him, wanting so badly to hear his voice, to draw in his scent, to feel his heat, to lean on his intensity. His honesty. His strength.

Now he was standing just in front of her desk, wearing a black shirt and pants, the dark shade the perfect contrast to the bronze of his skin, making him more beautiful than any model and sexy in a way that should have been illegal. Seriously. Giant warrior man had her drooling.
He was total Drogo hot.

A scar bisected the side of his forehead, adding an air of danger. His lashes were thick and black. His nose was aristocratic, regal, and she’d never been one to think beards were a male must-have, but Koldo changed her mind, the dark shadow accentuating the masculine purity of his jaw.

His head tilted to the side, his study of her intensifying. “You’re a strange mix of emotion and energy today. Happy yet anxious, enthusiastic yet fatigued.” Expression stern, he added, “You must take better care of yourself, Nicola. That’s an order.”

She cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. “Yes, well, I’m waiting for you to teach me how. Hint, hint.” That was the safest response.

He remained stoic as he turned and walked to the far wall, where he traced his finger over the peeling paint.

Hands trembling, she smoothed the wrinkles from the white cotton button-up she wore. Yes, he’d said he wasn’t interested in her romantically, and that was fine. Really. She hadn’t wanted to pout about it or anything like that—or try and change his mind. Therefore, she wasn’t sure why she’d raced home from the hospital to shower and dress, spending a little extra time on her makeup and hair, just in case he showed up.
Really.

“That’s what I came to discuss with you,” he said. “I hoped to begin your training today, but that’s proven impossible. I have just returned from a mission, and have been unable to prepare.”

“A mission? Oh. What kind?” she asked, trying for a casual tone.

He rolled his shoulders, saying, “The kind that involves an army.”

Fighting some kind of enemy? “Using guns?”

“No.”

“Daggers?”

“Of a sort.” He strode to the only window and checked the lock. “Beginning tomorrow, I’ll require half an hour out of your day, every day. You’ll devote yourself to me, and only to me.”

Just half an hour? Surely that wasn’t disappointment swimming laps in her veins. “It’s yours. But are you sure that’s enough? I mean, don’t we have a lot of ground to cover?”

He stiffened, saying, “We do.” He massaged the back of his neck. “I’ll give you forty-five minutes and—” He shook his head, narrowed his eyes. “That’s not enough, either, is it? I’ll give you...an hour.” The last was gritted from him, as if granting her an hour was a hard decision to make.

Half of her was insulted. The other half of her was too excited to care. “Thank you.”

“And when we’re apart,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken, “you’ll not worry. You’ll not stress, as you humans say. You’ll do only the things that make you happy.”

“Great in theory, but how do you suggest I go about that?”

He faced her, his brow furrowing as he considered her words. “Perhaps you should listen to jokes.”

A stellar idea from Mr. Serious, she thought drily. “That’s all you’ve got? I thought you had all the answers.”

“Spend time with your sister. She’s better, I’m guessing.”

“She is.” Nicola had told her sister about Koldo and his claims, and her sister had laughed, thinking either the drugs or the concussion or both were messing with her mind. Nothing she’d said had been able to convince the girl otherwise. “She might need some convincing to take you seriously, but don’t worry. I’ll convince her.” The alternative was to watch her sister die, and she simply wasn’t going to allow that to happen.

Koldo closed the distance and flattened his hands on her desk. She had to fist her slacks to stop herself from reaching out and tracing her fingertips along his jaw. Just how would he respond to something like
that?

“You’ll do everything I tell you?” he asked sharply.

“Everything.” No hesitation. “We’ve gone over this.”

“Never hurts to double-check.” His gaze dropped to her lips and stayed. “So pink,” he whispered, and frowned. “So pretty.”

Her palms began to sweat. He was peering at her as if she were splayed on a buffet table, a sign that read All You Can Eat for Free flashing overhead. As if he were starving.

Had he changed his mind about wanting her in “that” way?

He inhaled deeply, and blinked. His nose wrinkled as if he’d just encountered something unpleasant. “Why do you smell like that?” His tone was cutting.

“Like what?” Toxic waste?

“Jasmine and honeysuckle.”

“Uh, it’s from a new soap and lotion.” The one Sirena had given her.

“Never use them again. That is your first order. In fact, throw them out.”

No, he hadn’t changed his mind.

A knock echoed through the room, and Nicola somehow managed to tug herself from the beastly magnetism of his face to glance toward the left.

The door was open, allowing Sirena to peek inside without any prompting from her. “Hey, Nicola,” she said with a wide, toothy grin—a grin that slowly faded as her gaze swept through the office. “I thought I heard you talking to someone, but never saw anyone come in.”

Nicola’s attention darted to Koldo. Or rather, to where Koldo had been standing. He was gone, leaving only a waft of his sunshine scent in the air. He’d taken his heat with him, and Nicola shivered, suddenly cold and, well, somewhat bereft.

“I thought you were on a break,” she said.

“I was, until I realized you’d be lost without me.” Admitted unabashedly and with total conviction. “Of course, I hurried to return.”

Lost? Seriously? That’s what the girl believed? Three times this morning Nicola had heard Sirena misdirect a caller. The other four times the phone had rung, the girl had let it roll to voice mail. “What can I do for you, Sirena?”

“Just wanted you to know Mr. Turner is here to see you.” She cupped her hand around her mouth and whispered, “And he’s looking mighty fine. You should totally tap that.”

Dex was here? Why? “Thanks for letting me know. Please send him in.”

Sirena winked, and turned with an exaggerated sway of her hips. “You can go in now, Mr. Hot Stuff.”

Annnd Nicola jotted down “Chat with Sirena about sexual harassment” on her to-do list. She underlined, circled and starred.

A few seconds later, Dex soared inside. His dark hair was combed, not a strand out of place. His eyes were bright, despite their dark color. He wore a gray button-up shirt and black slacks. Very businessman. Very attractive. But had he been standing next to Koldo, he would have paled in comparison.

He would have also probably peed his pants in fear.

Stop that.
“Hey, Dex,” Nicola said. Now that Koldo was gone, her earlier rush to leave resurfaced. Her attention returned to her bag. Files were sticking out the top. “What can I do for you?”

“I hear your sister is all better.”

“Not all, not quite yet, but she’s on the mend.”

He sat down, leaned back and relaxed, fitting his hands over his middle. “That’s good, right? You’ll have more free time now.”

“Actually, I’ll have less.” She would be spending every spare second with Laila—and an hour a day with Koldo.

What the heck
was
he?

She needed a sensitive spirit to discover the answer, he’d said. Well, that seemed way complicated—so she’d given in and tried the internet. But a search for an invisible warrior who could heal with happiness had mostly yielded articles about soldiers suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.

“—this weekend?”

Dex’s voice pulled her out of her head. “I’m sorry, what?”

His cheeks reddened in the slightest degree. “I was wondering if you had any plans this weekend?”

“Oh. Yes. I have paperwork,” she said. Plus, there was her second job at the grocery store.

“Yeah, but you also have to eat.”

Actually, food was optional. “I’ve got Laila, and that means—”

“She’ll need a date, too. Good news is, I have a friend,” he interjected. “I’m sure you heard that Blaine and his girlfriend broke up a few months ago, and even though he forced me to eat that crap in the fridge after our race, I still like him.”

Blaine. Blaine, who Laila would find too cute to resist.

Would Laila be strong enough to leave the house, though? And if so, could Nicola actually deny her sister a little fun before she...before she...
Anyway.
What if that fun led to the necessary happiness?

Maybe Dex sensed that she verged on capitulation. Boasting a half grin, he leaned forward and wrote something on a piece of paper. “Here’s my number. Call me if you change your mind.”

“Thanks,” she whispered.

He stood and strode to the door, only to pause and say, “By the way, you smell really nice.” He kicked back into motion.

“See you later, handsome,” Sirena said from the reception area.

“Uh, sure thing,” Dex replied, clearly uneasy.

So...Koldo thought she smelled terrible, and Dex thought she smelled nice. Who was right?

Koldo the Honest, no question.

She sighed. The phone rang as she was gathering the rest of her things.

The phone was still ringing when she stepped out of the office. Sirena and Jamila were standing in the gap between their desks, their noses touching as they glared and huffed and puffed at each other. Hands were fisted; limbs were trembling.

“I know what you are,” Sirena snapped.

“I can’t say the same,” Jamila hissed, “but I know you’re bad news.”

“You want to survive this? You’ll leave and never come back.”

“This time, I
can
say the same.”

The two clearly had history. “Is someone going to get that?” Nicola asked, the weight of the files already causing her to pant.

The women jumped apart as if she’d prodded them with hot pokers.

Sirena tossed her a smile, all hint of rage gone. “Sure thing,” she said, strolling to her desk to pick up the phone. “Accounting.” As she eased into her chair, she twirled the cord between her fingers. “Well, don’t you just have the sweetest voice.” A girlish giggle caused Nicola to cringe. “Yeah. I am. Wait. Tell me slower so I can be sure to transcribe every riveting word.”

Nicola faced Jamila, who was still standing in place, still struggling to control her darker emotions. “I won’t ask what that was about, and I also won’t be back until late tomorrow. All I want is for the two of you to refrain from eating kittens, kicking puppies and boiling rabbits just to strike at each other.”

“Where are you going?” Jamila demanded, ignoring the insult. “You’re not scheduled to leave for another three hours and eight minutes.”

How cute. The girl most likely to be voted Useless was questioning her ethics. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m going home. And I’ve already gotten permission, thank you.”

“
Why
are you leaving? And why are you taking those files?”

“Again, it’s none of your business. And because someone has to do them.” Forget her bubbling excitement for her sister’s homecoming. Resentment radiated from her.

That golden gaze narrowed. “I know how to crunch numbers, and that’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know. Is it? You haven’t so far.”

Jamila popped her jaw. “Just give them to me.” She grabbed the strap of the bag before Nicola could respond. “I’ll make sure they’re done. Properly,” she spat at Sirena, who was still on the phone, giggling.

“No, I—” Nicola pressed her lips together. Per Koldo’s orders, she needed less stress in her life. “Fine. Just...please don’t let me down.”

“I’m not unreliable,” the girl snapped.

Was she unaware that there were other ways to speak to people?

“Thank you,” Nicola said, and soared from the office.

“Wait. Nicola,” Sirena called, stopping her. She slammed the receiver into place.

Impatient, Nicola backtracked. “Yes?”

“I’m happy to help Jamila out.” Sirena smiled sweetly at Jamila, who clicked her teeth in anger. “Since you’re the senior member here, I’d like your permission to take half the files.”

“Sure, that’ll be fine.”

As Jamila sputtered in outrage, Nicola made her escape.

The building was set in a circular pattern, with winding hallways, multiple offices and very few exits. The elevators were always crammed, and she hated being squeezed inside like a pickle in a jar, conflicting perfumes battling it out for the title of Most Annoying Scent, but she couldn’t take the stairs. She was twenty floors up and would pass out halfway down.

When she reached the parking garage, a quick walk took her to her old, beat-up sedan, a car out of place among the newer-model vehicles surrounding it. Bucket, she’d named the rust heap better suited for scrap metal than travel. She started the engine and, after the expected blast of backfire, pressed the gas—only to slam on the brake.

A monster stood just in front of the hood.