Lucca (6 page)

“Hmm...” His brows drew together over the
bridge of his nose, obviously thinking the same thing. “The ‘for
rent’ sign was gone. I figured the apartment had been leased out.
The other tenant moved out last month. Job related.” He
shrugged.

“We moved in a few days ago. Small
world.”

“Isn’t it?” His direct gaze spoke of
suspicion as if he didn’t completely believe her story.

Shouldn’t she be the one questioning
this?

“Since you and your son are heading in the
same direction, do you mind if I tag along?”

“Oh, he’s not my son.” Why did she blurt
that out? “I mean… He’s my nephew… I’m his guardian.”

His gaze flickered to Owen. “His parents
have passed on?”

“My mother died giving birth to me,” Owen
volunteered the information. “My father’s wanted by—”

Juliet didn’t let Owen finish, drowning out
his words with her own explanation. “His father isn’t the best
influence on the boy, if you know what I mean. I have full custody
of him.” Even to her ears the story sounded fishy. What was wrong
with her?

“You have no need to explain your home life
to me.” He looked at Owen again. “My father would not win the
Best Father of the Year Award
either.”

His gaze traveled to hers again with warm
understanding. He told the truth about his father. What beautiful
eyes he had. Even in the streetlight, the shade of a winter storm
mesmerized her. She purposely looked away to prevent herself from
staring.

“Shall we?” he asked with a wave of his
hand.

She and Owen walked on the sidewalk and he
took the edge of the street to keep pace with them. They didn’t
make conversation, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. His
presence actually felt comforting.

She pulled her jacket closer around her as
the wind picked up. The weatherman said rain was in the forecast.
She hoped it would pass them by until the end of the week. The
Shakespeare in the Park theatrical group she belonged to was
hosting tryouts tomorrow night in the outdoor amphitheatre. Rain or
shine they didn’t cancel, but attendance would suffer.

Owen swiped his nose with the back of his
hand and she immediately handed him a Kleenex. Owen always had a
runny nose. Allergies she was told, but medicine didn’t seem to
help. The runny nose didn’t hamper him in any way and the doctor,
who was Nephilim, told her not to worry, stating once Owen matured,
he would out grow the allergies. The runny nose was something all
Nephilim children experienced until they went through their
Awakening. Leroy promised to find a reliable Watcher to walk him
through the Awakening if Raziel didn’t come through for his son.
Owen would need one of the Nephilim to help him to control the
shifts.

They arrived home and she expected the man
to step aside and let them go on ahead, but he did just the
opposite. He opened the wrought iron fence, stepping inside first.
His gaze swept over the area as if he expected trouble awaited
them. When he deemed the area free from intruders, he stepped aside
allowing them to enter.

“I’ll see you around then,” he said to her
and she swore he drew in a deep breath as she past by, as if he
were sniffing her hair again. However, when she looked at him, he
had already turned away, heading for his apartment.

“Yes, see you.” As soon as he closed his
door, she and Owen headed for their apartment across the way.

Safely inside with the door locked and
bolted, she realized she didn’t know the guy’s name. “I didn’t tell
him mine either,” she reminded herself.

Owen plopped down on the couch, reaching for
the remote to turn on the television.

“No TV, young man. It’s late and you need to
take a bath.”

“Ah, do I have to?”

“Yes.”

Owen dragged his feet toward the bathroom as
if she ordered his execution. He may be half angel, but he acted
like a typical human boy. “And don’t forget to brush your
teeth.

Another groan and her lips curved.
“Definitely a human response.”

They still had boxes to unpack, but the
kitchen had all their necessities put in order. She placed the
groceries on the counter. She had noticed her neighbor liked
cookies. She could bake a dozen as a thank you for his help.

She strode into the living room, heading for
the window that overlooked the courtyard. Her hand pulled back the
lace material. The courtyard was well lit, giving her a perfect
view of the plotted plants, lounge chairs, and the front door of
Mr. Hair Sniffer
. Her lips curved.

She needed to find out more about him, and
not because she thought him attractive. She made it a point to know
her neighbors, what they did for a living, and what hours they
kept. Leroy assured her this complex was secure. He also asked her
tonight if she’d met any of her neighbors yet. “Hmm...” Had Leroy
meant the neighbor across the courtyard?

Leroy never steered her wrong before and he
claimed the Courtyard Apartments were safe. To tell the truth, she
fell in love with the apartment as soon as she entered the
courtyard. The trees, the ornate fountain with its soft bubbling
sounds as the water spilled over the bowlike lip. An angel topped
the fountain with its baby wings and bow and arrow, giving the
cherub the appearance of a stone cupid guarding the courtyard for
potential clients.

A movement caught her eye and her gaze
riveted to her neighbor’s window.
Hair-sniffer
stood at his
window, checking the lock. The man did have a chest on him and
she’d bet a washboard stomach the way it tapered off to slim hips.
He must work out. No one was born looking like a Nordic god.

The man hesitated as if he sensed someone
staring at him. His gaze turned toward her place and she hastily
stepped back, letting the curtain fall into place. Her hand flew to
her chest as if to still the pounding against her ribcage. She
chewed on her lower lip, annoyed that she wasn’t entirely sure the
rapid heartbeats had anything to do with her close call at being
caught ogling.

Chapter Eight

Lucca crawled out of bed, showered, and
dressed before he sat behind his computer to do a little
investigating about his lovely neighbor. He spotted her peeking out
her window last night, while he’d been securing the locks, but once
he glanced her way, she became spooked and retreated out of sight.
Too bad, he would have enjoyed seeing her lovely face one more time
before he headed off for bed.

His fingers flew over the keyboard of his
laptop. He found the link to
Shakespeare in the Park
and
scanned the information about the theatrical group and the group’s
past productions.

It must be his lucky day. Tryouts were
tonight. He could stop by and see if his neighbor spent time with
the theatrical group.
For curiosity sake only
, he lied to
himself. His running across the woman twice in one night had to
mean something. Right? “I don’t even know her name.” Why hadn’t he
thought to ask? “She didn’t ask for my name either,” he grumbled.
She wasn’t interested in him. A stab of disappointment settled in
his chest before he could push the emotion away.

Hell, with the way he behaved around her,
the female was better off keeping her distance. He remembered how
her gaze wavered over him in suspicion. He couldn’t blame her for
being leery of him. Even he found their chance meetings peculiar.
If the Hashasheen demons didn’t send her, then he would have to
believe
Fate
decided to be pushy.

“
It is not in the stars to hold our
destiny, but in ourselves
,” he quoted Shakespeare with a snort.
“You got that right, Will.” Lucca liked to control matters. Screw
Fate. If
Fate
wanted to play matchmaker then he would choose
the
when and where
. “I’m becoming a sap. Matchmaking,” he
ground out the word as if it were a disease. “Next, I’ll be
searching for my soul mate.”

He reached for his coffee mug on his desk,
his gaze picking up the flashing light on his answering machine. He
reached over to push the button.

“Lucca, I need you to come by my place. It’s
urgent. Whatever you do, come alone. There’s someone you must meet
before… Well, there is someone you must meet. I believe you’ll be
pleased.”

He recognized the voice as Leroy Fennings, a
Watcher. He’d been living in the human realm for over fifty years.
He owned a coffee shop within the Orange Circle, the historical
section of the City of Orange. A few weeks ago, Leroy asked him to
case his shop, thought someone was shadowing him. Lucca had sat in
front of the place a few nights in a row with no activity. He
brushed the paranoia off as Leroy spending too much time with
humans and his overindulgence of watching CSI programs on
television.

The time stamp on Leroy’s message read 6:45
this morning. Lucca usually opened his office early, but after last
night, he wasn’t up to sitting in an empty office, hoping for
someone to drag themselves in with a sappy story and a stack of
money. He posed as a private detective on this realm with all the
credentials of a former cop from the Bay area. The elders allowed
him to keep the established job, while living out his banishment
from the Otherworldly realm.
Learn to live with the humans,
respect them…blah blah blah.
He didn’t see the elders cozying
up to the human population, but then again Eli Grigori gave out the
sentence. Just because he almost killed the guy…
almost
being the important word here, Lucca had been condemned. The
Nephilim still breathed and was living the
happily-ever-after
with his human mate, according to Gideon
anyway. As far as Lucca was concerned, his sentence shouldn’t have
been so severe.

Eli forged a new path for the condemned
Fallen Angels. They no longer were forced to observe and record
history. They no longer followed the rules set for them centuries
ago. They could fraternize with humans and even take one as a
mate.

The Watchers were fools to believe the
besotted Eli’s word. To find a soul mate, one had to have a soul.
The Angels sent down to earth during the time of Enoch had no
souls, or so they were led to believe. Hell, he believed it. His
father was proof enough, not a compassionate bone in his angelic
body, but what if his assumption had been wrong? Maybe compassion
had nothing to do with possessing a soul. He shook his head. The
lack of it proved consistent with those God condemned. The
Watchers, the Nephillim were the offspring of those soulless
creatures and the foolish human females who fell for their
charms.

What if Eli’s right?
He posed the
question to himself.

“He’s not,” he answered stubbornly.

Maybe you should check on Eli. See how his
affair with Ryden O’ Sullivan held out. If he remembered right, Eli
married her in a church, a real human affair. I could pop in and
see if they’re still in love.

“Yeah, and if Eli catches me spying on him,
my arse is fried.”

What’s there to lose then? You have a death
wish already. Why not let Eli have the honors.

His lips pursed together. Maybe he’d
consider a little drive by later. Right now his services required
he make a scheduled stop to Leroy Fennings’ home and see why the
Watcher called for the
cloak and dagger
routine. He wanted
him to meet someone? He’d find out who the person was before he
shot down the Watcher’s attempt to find him a new friend.

Chapter Nine

From the office, the drive to Orange only
took fifteen minutes. Leroy lived in a historical neighborhood,
where the Craftsmen homes built in 1905 were renovated to their
natural radiance with their gentle sloping roofs and wide eaves
draping over deep porches. Leroy’s house stood in walking distance
to his coffee shop, too. Most likely this was why the Watcher chose
the location.

Lucca parked his Rover in front of the
house. The neighborhood was quiet with only a few humans out
walking their dogs. A brisk wind hit his face as he opened the car
door and stepped out. The sky looked clear, but the electrical
current and the strong scent of ozone made him suspect rain would
be in the forecast for tonight.

He made his way up the perfectly trimmed
walk and took the porch steps two at a time. His finger pushed the
ringer mounted on the side of the front door. He could hear the
buzz warning Leroy he had a visitor. After a few seconds with no
one answering the door, he pressed the ringer again. This time
pushing it with annoying small jerks in hopes of irritating Leroy
into opening the door. “Come on,” he shouted. His fist came down on
the door with a quick rap. The sudden impact pushed the door
open.

It hadn’t been locked?

Leroy lived in a nice area, but
Californians, preternatural or human, didn’t leave their doors
unlocked. His back tightened and his bound wings stirred, making
his back burn with the warning of potential danger. His hand went
for his Glock tucked into the back of his jeans.

He inched the door open wider. “Leroy?” he
called to him, not really expecting an answer when the scent of
blood hit his nostril. The tangy iron smell mixed with…
“Brugmansia,” he murmured under his breath with a curse. His brows
drew together. Brugmansia was a poisonous plant to humans, but
ingested by an angel or a half angel, it would make them ill, but
it also had another interesting purposes. It could be used as a
truth serum. “What were you hiding, Leroy?” he murmured.

He kept the gun ready to use as he took
careful steps not to be heard. If he came face to face with a
preternatural being, the bullets wouldn’t kill the prick, but it
would hurt like hell. His lips curved. A little pain went a long
way in finding out the truth. He didn’t need a truth serum.

The living room sported a couch, recliner,
and a big screen TV mounted on the wall. Nothing broken, nothing
looked out of place. His gaze landed on the entryway to the right
of him. He could see a tile counter and pine cabinets. The room was
most likely the kitchen. As he neared, the rancid scent grew
stronger.