Secret Worlds (366 page)

Hidden in the shadows behind Welita’s house, Lash peeked through the open window, hoping he’d find Naomi. He had gone to the address that was given to him, but when he found she wasn’t there, he’d searched the apartment for clues as to where she might be. Given the vision Raphael had shown him, he obviously needed to keep careful watch and couldn’t wait until she returned.

He found nothing unusual: a small and sparse bedroom, a living room with textbooks lining bookshelves, a kitchen that was spotless except for the stack of papers on the table. He glanced at the newspaper placed on top of the pile. It was opened to the obituary pages, and a photo of a middle-aged man smiled out at him. Underneath the photo was a name: Javier Duran.

Lash snatched the paper and read it closely. There were a few sentences stating that Javier was a graduate of the University of Texas and that his wife was deceased. What caught his attention were two of the names listed as surviving family members: Naomi and Anita Duran.

He recalled the young woman with jet-black hair and pink tinted glasses talking on the phone. Anita was Javier’s mother. The same little boy he’d been assigned to years ago, and now, he was dead. Lash threw the paper back on the table and ran his hand though his hair, frustrated. What was going on? The kid he’d saved didn’t even get to live out his life.

He paced the floor, thinking. There had to be a reason why Michael specifically had him assigned to Naomi, and it would be more than just proving his faith and loyalty—but what?

Lash eyed a laptop on the coffee table in the living room and picked it up. Whatever the connection was, he’d find out soon enough, but first he needed to find Naomi. He did a quick Google search and found Anita’s home address. He thought that Naomi might be there, given that today was the funeral, and headed straight to Anita’s house.

When Lash approached the small white house, he heard muffled voices arguing. He snuck into the backyard and saw movement behind an open window.

“Don’t deny it, Naomi. It did cross your mind that your father was probably drunk,” said a deep voice.

“He promised me, Chuy. He said he hadn’t touched the stuff in over a month,” Naomi said heatedly.

“The newspapers said—”

“Screw the papers. I know my father.”

Lash was taken aback with the strength of Naomi’s voice, so different from the sweet smile in the photo he was given. He moved into a better position to try to get a look at her. He was curious to see how someone who looked so delicate could sound like that. Once he leaned in, however, all he got was an eyeful of Chuy’s broad shoulders covered in a white tank top.

“Come on, Naomi,” he said. “You had doubts.”

Naomi held her breath and then exhaled slowly. “Yes, I did. When I saw him near the beer, I admit I was a bit nervous. Before he left for work, we talked. He was sober. I know it. There was no way he would’ve had time to stop somewhere and—”

“Shh, Welita’s coming.”

Welita shuffled into the kitchen. “Why do you act like I can’t hear? I can hear you all the way down the hall.”

“You should be resting. Why are you up?” Chuy moved away from the window.

Lash’s breath caught as he finally saw Naomi, leaning against the refrigerator with one foot pressed against the door. His eyes traveled up her long legs. The sleeves and neckband of the black concert t-shirt she wore were cut off, leaving her pale shoulders bare. Dark lashes framed the intense, pale blue eyes that danced between Welita and Chuy. A strange sensation swept over him, and his heart pounded. There was something about her eyes. He’d seen them somewhere before, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Welita walked toward the pantry. “I came to get some food for … what’s that?”

What the hell?
Lash ducked as Welita turned to the window.
How could she see me?
It was dark outside, and there was no light to give his presence away.

“What’s wrong?” Naomi asked.

“I thought I saw something by the window,” Welita said.

Bare feet padded across the floor, and Lash heard the window pane being shoved higher. He held his breath as Naomi peered out. The wind blew, and the scent of jasmine and vanilla intertwined with musk wafted through the air. She smelled as sensual as she looked.

“I don’t see anything.” Naomi drew back into the kitchen.

“I wonder if it’s her again.” Welita opened the pantry door and took out a can of dog food.

“‘Her’ who?” Chuy took out a can opener from the drawer and handed it to Welita.

“Rebecca,” she said.

“Who’s Rebec—ow! Bear, stop jumping on me. I’m not the one with the food,” Naomi said.

There was movement and what sounded like paws clicking on the floor.

“Welita, you need to get Bear’s nails trimmed. She’s scratching my legs.”

Damn, a dog.
As much as Lash liked furry little creatures, he’d yet to meet one that liked him. It was as if they could sense something was off with him. He wondered how long he had before the dog would pick up on his scent. Would Bear attack him like the others in the past had tried? He fought back the urge to sneak a peek to see the size of the dog. Being bitten wasn’t a problem since he healed quickly, but he’d rather not deal with the pain. If Bear picked up on his scent, it would make it difficult to look after Naomi from a distance.

“Bear. Stop bothering Naomi and come over so I can feed you. Silly dog,” Welita said. She placed a bowl on the floor and tossed the can’s contents in it. “Don’t you remember? I told you about Rebecca.”

Chuy chuckled.

Welita frowned. “It’s not funny.”

“What, Chuy?” Naomi asked. “Who is she?”

“She thinks Rebecca is her guardian angel.”

“I don’t think it. I
know
it.” Welita walked to the trash can and dropped the can into it. “She came to me the night Javier died.”

“She thinks she had a vision,” Chuy explained to Naomi.

“About what?”

Lash was curious, too. He went through the angels he knew. There were so many of them. Because they were always working in various locations, there was no way that he could know all of them. The name Rebecca didn’t ring any bells.

“She told me that Javier was a good boy and that he was set up,” Welita said.

Naomi pushed herself off the counter. “What do you mean, set up?”

“She said that Javier didn’t drink anything that night and that someone staged it so that everyone would blame him for the accident instead of the senator.”

“Uh, Welita, maybe you’re confused with something you saw on TV?” Naomi’s voice was hesitant. “Maybe a reporter was doing some undercover work on the senator?”

“I’m not confused. It was Rebecca.” Welita sounded adamant.

Naomi turned to Chuy. “Do you know a Rebecca? Maybe she’s one of the neighbors?”

“There’s nothing wrong with my mind,” Welita said vehemently. “I have a guardian angel, and her name is Rebecca.”

“There’s no one by that name in the neighborhood,” Chuy said.

“How about church?”

“Hmm …” Chuy furrowed his brows deep in thought. “I know she talks to a Raquel sometimes. You know, the lady that makes the tamales and sells them out of her home.”

“Oh, yeah, those are good.”

“Stop acting like I’m senile.” Welita huffed. “There’s nothing wrong with me. Rebecca warned us to stay away from the senator. She said that the people who helped her with the cover-up were dangerous.”

Lash wondered who Rebecca was and why she was there. If she was sent on an assignment to look over the family, then why did Michael send him, too? It was highly unusual for a family to have more than one angel assigned to them. He’d have to remember to ask Raphael the next time he saw him—if he bothered coming back.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Naomi said. “They were able to make the entire city of Houston believe that my father was driving drunk and make it look like it was his fault that he died.” She paced the floor growing angrier by the second. “I’m getting sick and tired of people like that taking advantage of others. Just because our family isn’t rich, it doesn’t give them the right to run all over us.”

“I bet that billionaire dude had something to do with it,” Chuy said. “I saw him sitting in the car, waiting for her.”

Naomi hit the side of her thigh with her fists as she continued to pace. “There has to be a way to expose them. Maybe some type of function with a lot a media.”

“The news said there’s a fundraiser at the Plaza tonight. She’s the guest speaker.”

“What time is it?” Naomi asked as she rushed out of the kitchen.

Lash bolted up, wondering what Naomi had in mind. By the tone of her voice, she was up to something that sounded like trouble. How was he going to stop her without revealing himself? He groaned. It would be much easier if he could go back to his angel form.

“Where are you going?” Welita went down the hall after Naomi.

“The Plaza,” Naomi yelled back.

“Didn’t you hear what I said? It’s too dangerous,” Welita said.

“Chuy will go with me.” Naomi emerged with a backpack and helmet in hand.

“I will?”

Naomi scowled. “Yes, you will. Pick me up at my apartment in an hour. It’ll look too suspicious if we drive up in my bike.”

“Yeah.” Chuy looked out through the screen door at the beat-up ’78 Buick Electra parked on the street. “We’ll definitely blend in with that thing.”

“Just do it, Chuy. I need to go home and change.” She took in his paint-splattered jeans and wife beater shirt. “You should put your suit back on.”

“I don’t have to dress up for them.”

“You need to so we can blend in. Everyone’s probably going to be in tuxes or evening gowns. You don’t by any chance have a tuxedo, do you?”

“I have a tuxedo t-shirt.”

“Never mind,” Naomi said, exasperated. “Put your suit back on.”

“Please, Naomi. Be careful,” Welita said.

Bear barked.

“Calm down, Bear. I’m opening the door.” The door squealed open as she spoke. “Welita, we’ll be in public the entire time. I’m just going to have a few words with her. She was the one who came to us, remember?”

Lash stopped listening to the conversation when he heard a high-pitched growl around the corner. He stepped away slowly, wishing again that he had some of his powers back.

He heard the sound of the motorcycle starting up and cursed. There was no way he’d be able to keep up with Naomi without flying.

He needed to get back to his apartment and try to find out the location of the Plaza. He carefully took a step and a blur of reddish-brown fur headed straight to him. The Chihuahua yapped and jumped at his feet, and Lash looked wide-eyed at the tiny dog.

I was worried about that?
He chuckled. Despite all the jumping and annoyingly high-pitched sounds she was making, Bear was a cute dog.

Lash bent down to pet her. She bit his finger.

“Shit!” He jerked away his hand. The dog gave him a funny look, like she was laughing at him.

“I guess that means we’re not going to be friends,” he said to her.

“Bear? Bear! Come back inside,” Welita called out.

The dog turned its head in the direction of her owner’s voice, looked at Lash, growled, and barked. She then turned and ran back into the house.

He sighed. This was going to be a long assignment. Gazing into the evening sky, he said, “And thirty-five years wasn’t enough laughs for you?”

***

Lash tugged at the collar of his tuxedo as he stood in the corner of the ballroom. It had taken him two hours to find a place that rented tuxedos and grab a taxi to drive him to the Plaza. He thought he’d be too late when he arrived, but Naomi and Chuy were nowhere to be found.

He walked around the periphery, taking in the number of people dressed in their finest. Toward the back of the ballroom, a large stage was set up. A black podium sat in the center, holding at least a dozen microphones, each ready to pick up every single word uttered.

A short woman in a long flowing pink gown walked to the podium and stood for a moment, waiting for the room to quiet down. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Houston Children’s Hospital thanks you for your donations. I’d also like to give a special appreciation to Mr. Luke Prescott for the Prescott Foundation’s generous donation.”

The room broke into applause, and Lash saw a distinguished-looking man standing next to a woman he assumed to be the senator. The man bowed slightly to the woman at the podium.

“As you know, the hospital is near and dear to Senator Sutherland’s heart,” the woman continued. “The senator and the Prescott Foundation have been our biggest supporters. Every penny spent provides quality health care for impoverished children in the city. Please help me welcome Senator Jane Sutherland.”

The senator shook the woman’s hand and stood behind the podium, waiting for the applause to die down. “Thank you, Lilith.” Her soft voice echoed through the room. “It is an honor for me to be here tonight. We all know the fine work that you do for the children of Houston.”

Lash looked around the room as the senator continued with her speech. He expected Naomi to step forward. Minutes passed, and she was nowhere in sight. He wondered if she had changed her mind. He was about to leave when he heard a commotion in the back of the room. He didn’t have to turn to know who it was.

High-heeled shoes clacked on the floor as Naomi marched toward the front of the room. Lash stood slack-jawed at the sight of her. This did not look like the girl in the torn shorts and t-shirt he’d seen a few hours earlier. Her black dress hugged her hips, accentuating her curves. She wore her hair up, curled wisps falling down her neck and along her forehead, framing a pair of blazing eyes. She was breathtaking.

“Senator,” Naomi called out when she reached the front of the room.

Lash mentally slapped himself to attention. This wasn’t the time or place to be noticing stupid things like how the dark curls around her temples highlighted the sheen of her skin or how his fingers itched to trace the little patch of freckles at the base of her neck.

He was jolted to reality when he saw a menacing-looking man in a cowboy hat and crocodile boots step up next to Luke Prescott—obviously some sort of bodyguard.