Angelic Surrender Page 2
“So I’d need to speak to someone at the Kavanaugh Foundation first?”
Her breath hitched. Shit, if he knew about the Foundation… “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t lie to me, darling. I’ve already told you that I’ve been studying you.” He stood and closed the space between them. “I know what you do, where you work and what your abilities are.” She froze as he traced the line of her jaw with his finger. “I even know your favorite flavor of ice cream.”
“What the fuck are you?” Rage curled in the pit of her stomach and fueled the magic in her veins. She may be a sorry excuse for a witch, but she could definitely summon a spell that would get her message across in a language even Mr. Stalker would understand.
“I’m not someone to be trifled with.” He slid his finger off her face. “If I need to ask the Foundation for permission to hire you, I will. Until then, I looked forward to working with you.”
He turned on his heel and strolled across the room, allowing her ample viewing time of his tight ass.
Just before he got to door, he paused in front of a painting. “I like this one,” he said and tilted it to the left.
A shudder ripped through her like someone had just scraped his fingernails down a chalkboard. She released her breath slowly through her teeth and wished her heart wouldn’t pound so loudly in her ears. As soon as he left her apartment, she straightened the painting. Then she dialed the Foundation. They needed to know about him ASAP.
While the phone rang, an annoying voice in her head whispered over and over again that she hoped this wouldn’t be the last encounter with Will Vassago. Her body liked him far more than her mind cared to admit. She secretly wondered if his smooth charm carried over into the bedroom.
Then she glanced at the rest of the pictures in the room. They all hung at the same angle, tilted slightly to the left.
Her fingers curled into a fist. Damn him!
***
Vassago reached the national headquarters for the Kavanaugh Foundation in the Financial District within a few minutes of leaving Anjali’s apartment. Flight had a few advantages, he thought with a smile, even if it meant having to remove the exquisite texture of Italian leather from his arms for a bit.
He landed in the dark shadows and removed the glamour that kept him invisible from most mortal eyes. Once he donned his jacket, he stepped out into the sidewalks and entered the building. He strode past the receptionist inside and punched the button for the floor he needed without her calling ahead. Not that it mattered. She needed to pick her jaw up off the desk in order to make that call. He winked at her as the doors closed.
Most women stared at him that way when he made himself visible in his human form. His jaw tightened. All except Anjali, that is. Although he’d caught glimpses of her checking him out, she never surrendered to him like most women. Her ability to resist him grated on his nerves like a hundred lashes.
But after what he’d witnessed in the last two years, he should’ve expected that from her. She was different from most humans. She saw things most people didn’t even know existed.
Things like him.
He walked to the next receptionist as if he had every business being there. “Is either Mr. Pemberly or Ms. Derwydd here?”
This one regarded him with the same wide eyes as the one downstairs. When he employed his charm, he found women’s minds easy enough to manipulate. “Ms. Derwydd is actually just coming out of a meeting.”
“Lovely. Will you please tell her that Vassago is here to see her?”
The receptionist made the call, her eyes never leaving him.
He grinned. Nice to know humans hadn’t lost their appreciation for his kind.
When she hung up the phone, she managed to mumble in a breathy voice, “This way, Mr. Vassago.”
Part of him wanted to continue to tempt her and enjoy the pleasures of her flesh, but he’d found he’d lost his taste for human women over the last few years. All but one. And with a Skinwalker on the loose, he didn’t have time to revel in that game with Anjali until after it was caught.
The receptionist knocked on a frosted glass door before opening it. “Ms. Derwydd, Mr. Vassago.” She cast one inviting glance his way before she returned to her desk.
“Vassago, you really need to stop harassing my employees,” a voice with a thick Welsh accent said from the windows. “I don’t appreciate you breaking into Anjali’s apartment.”
“Ah, the infamous Morwen Derwydd. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” He admired her flowing red hair and pale, flawless skin. “Although I must say, Titian didn’t do your beauty justice. Rossetti, either.”
She frowned and gestured to the nearby chairs. “If I didn’t know what you are, I’d be flattered.”
His lips twitched. “I won’t tell what you are if you won’t tell what I am.”
Leverage could be such a lovely thing.
She grimaced and sat near the windows. “What did you want to speak to me about?”
He sat and leaned back against the rich leather of the chair. “I would like to borrow Anjali for a bit.”
“Why?”
“If you know what I am, I’m sure you can figure it out.”
She crossed her legs and drummed her slender fingers on the arms of her chair. “Vassago, the finder of lost things. What escaped from Hell this time?”
Damn, she was smarter than he thought.
But then, centuries of experience would do that to a woman.
“A Skinwalker,” he replied and paused to gauge her reaction.
A brief second of panic flickered in her unusually bright blue eyes before a smooth mask of composure settled over her face. “That’s something that needs to be addressed immediately.”
“I’m surprised it hasn’t come to your attention sooner, what with two people already skinned alive.”
A muscle twitched along her jaw. “I’ve heard of the bodies, but I didn’t think the minions of Hell would be so reckless as to let a Skinwalker escape.”
“Accidents happen,” he said with a shrug. “Of course, from what I’m hearing from down there, this wasn’t a routine escape.”
“You mean someone released it?”
He gave her a tight smile. “I mean I need to find it as soon as possible and return it to Hell before more people are killed. I don’t sully my hands with things in that realm.”
She held his gaze for ten long seconds, silently informing him that she didn’t believe his bullshit for one moment. “Where does Anjali fit into all this?”
“I’m having trouble tracking it with its human disguise. Anjali seems to be quite gifted at seeing things most of us miss.”
“She’s a gifted psychic and a mediocre witch.”
“But quite the bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out demons,” he finished. “With her help, I can find it and deal with it sooner than on my own.”
She nibbled her bottom lip and stared out the window at the surrounding skyscrapers. “Do you promise you won’t harm her?”
“I give you my word.”
A snort told him exactly what she thought of his word. “She’ll be your plaything.”
The idea of playing with Anjali until she stared up at him with lust filled eyes and begged him to make her come toyed in his mind, but he pushed it aside for the moment. “She’s stronger willed than you give her credit for,” he admitted through gritted teeth.
Morwen laughed, wounding his pride. “Never had a human woman turn you down before?”
“I think we’ve both established she’s not a normal human.”
The office door opened, and a silver-haired man with a cane entered the room. “Morwen, I was thinking about the recent string of attacks that Logan reported this morning…”
The words died on his lips the second he saw Vassago, and his face paled. He made the sign of the cross. “Vade Retro Satana.”
Now it was his turned to laugh. “That barely even works on my boss, old man, especially when some
one has so little faith to back it.”
“Nigel, Vassago was just leaving.” She narrowed her eyes, and a rush of magic surrounded him, tightening around his chest like steel straps.
The witch was more powerful than he’d first assumed.
“You can borrow her for this case,” she said, her unnatural gaze seeming to penetrate his very soul, “but if anything happens to her, I’ll come looking for you.”
“I’ll treat her with the utmost care.” The magic retreated from him, and he stood. “Good day, Morwen.”
He cast a glance at Nigel and experienced a slight thrill when the old man flinched. At least some people still feared his kind.
Chapter Three
Anjali grabbed a spoon and shoved her silverware drawer closed. Her pulse pounded at her temples, and her jaw ached from gritting her teeth. Ever since Will Vassago had left her house, she’d discovered one thing after another that he’d disturbed.
First, she’d had to straighten all her pictures.
Then she’d noticed he’d rearranged the contents of her pantry so they were no longer in alphabetical order.
Now, when she reached for a spoon to eat a cup of yogurt, she’d realized that he’d mixed all her silverware up, disrupting the neat stacks of spoons, forks and knives inside the drawer.
“If I ever seen him again, I’m going to show him the meaning of pain.”
She was about to peel back the foil lid when a knock sounded at her door. Her muscles tightened, and she gathered her magic.
The door handle turned.
He wouldn’t catch her off guard this time.
But instead of Will Vassago, it was Logan who peered around the door.
His face went slack. “Uh-oh, someone’s pissed off.”
She relaxed and let all her magic flow back into her veins. She’d almost forgotten that she’d agreed to meet Logan for dinner after hearing him rant this morning about his trouble tracking down a new vampire that was plaguing Manhattan. “You’re early.”
“No, I’m right on time.” He pointed to the clock by the door.
Five P.M.. Where had the day gone?
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Some asshole broke into my apartment and messed with my stuff.” She shoved the yogurt back in the fridge and cast a glance at the chaotic drawer. She’d restore it to its proper order when she got back. Right now, dinner with a friend sounded like just the distraction she needed.
“Did you call the police?”
“This isn’t something they’d handle, if you know what I mean.”
His brows furrowed together, and a frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Spill it.”
She inwardly groaned when she saw his expression—the overly protective big brother look. Never mind that she was two months older than him. “I came home from the store to find him sitting on the couch, waiting for me.”
“And?”
“And I freaked initially. Got the definite not human vibe from him, but as far as I could tell, he wasn’t a demon or a vampire.” She stuffed her arms into her jacket as they filed out into the hallway.
Logan rubbed his jaw. “What else would that make him?”
“A warlock of some sort, maybe. I mean he broke into my apartment without any signs of forced entry. And from what he let slip, he’s been stalking me.”
Panic flickered across his face. “That solves it. You’re staying at my place tonight.”
“And I’ll be by myself all night while you’re out hunting. How is that any different than me staying at home?”
“He hasn’t broken into my place yet.”
Why am I making so many excuses for this guy? If I were in my right mind, I’d be clinging to Logan like a damsel in distress, not insisting on waiting in my apartment for Mr. Stalker to come in and seduce me. “Who’s to say he couldn’t?”
Before Logan could reply, her cell phone beeped. She checked the message on the screen and almost threw it out the staircase window to the street four stories down. A string of four letter words exploded from her mouth after she read the message.
I’ve agreed to lend you to Vassago to find the demon he’s hunting. Be careful. Morwen.
Logan peered over her shoulder. “Being outsourced?”
“Ha-ha.” She shoved the phone into her pocket and pounded down the stairs. “Vassago’s my stalker boy.”
“Gotcha.” He waited until they were out on the street before asking, “Why does he need you to find a demon?”
“I didn’t let him explain, but I guess his reasons were good enough for Morwen. Now, the challenge will be if I can find the demon without killing him.”
A low whistle sounded behind her. “He really must have rubbed you the wrong way.”
More like rubbed me the right way for all the wrong reasons.
She remembered how her body had responded to his touch. How turned on she’d become when his breath tickled the side of her face and hated herself for acting like such a teenager. She’d been around plenty of good-looking guys without losing her head. Hell, Logan was a prime example of a hot guy, judging from the admiring stares he drew from women wherever they went. “Whatever. I could use a beer.”
“Jen’s going to meet us at the Taxi Stand.” A grin played on his lips.
Ah, Jen, his secret crush. It pained her to watch them together. Logan seemed like the type of guy to settle down and raise a bunch of blond surfer kids on a beach somewhere, not spend his life sentenced as a single vampire hunter in Manhattan. His job frowned on any type of long-term relationship, and Jen knew it. Despite his advances, she kept him at arm’s length.
Besides, Jen suffered from the same malady she did—they both only saw Logan as a friend.
Anjali forced a smile on her face. “Sounds like fun.”
The Taxi Stand was a little hole in the wall pub in the East Village with greasy food and cold beer. Just what she wanted on an evening like this. Something to get her mind off of the annoyingly good-looking stranger who was slowly turning her life upside down. A rich, dark chocolate dessert would be a lovely chaser to the meal if her stomach could handle it.
Jen waved at them from a back booth as soon as they entered, and Logan’s grin widened.
Anjali hung back as he kissed Jen’s cheek and slid into the seat next to her. She could see why Logan liked her. The witch was bright and bubbly with her heart-shaped face and blonde-streaked red hair. A perfect distraction from the dark world Logan normally inhabited. But Jen also worked for the Foundation, and rules were rules, even if she did want to pursue something more than friendship with him.
She slumped into the seat across from them and murmured a greeting.
“Uh-oh,” Jen said in the same tone as Logan did earlier. “Somebody’s grouchy.”
Anjali crossed her arms and let him fill their friend in on everything that had happened while she ordered a drink and plate of chili cheese fries. Jen’s jaw dropped when he finished. “So Morwen’s letting you work for him, even after all that?”
“Yeah. Apparently, she deems it safe.”
“Either that, or what he’s hunting for has her worried enough to decide it’s better to work with than against him.” She twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “I wonder what he is.”
“He could just be another type of demon hunter.” Logan leaned back and draped his arm over Jen’s seat.
“Logan, he said he knew what flavor of ice cream I liked.”
“I’m not saying he’s sane. I’m just trying to come up with a reason why Morwen would agree to this.”
“Perhaps because I can be very persuasive when I want to be,” the smoothly accented voice said behind her.
Anjali flinched, and a shiver ran up her spine that made her scalp tingle.
Across the table, her friends stared at Will Vassago with wide eyes. Then Jen’s lips curled into a flirtatious smile. “Ah, you must be the mystery man we’ve heard so much about.”
“Gossiping
about me, Anjali?” He slid into the spot next to her, still dressed in the same clothes he’d worn earlier today and looking as handsome as sin in them. His thigh pressed against hers and radiated heat that spread through her body.
She shimmied away from him and tried to regain control of her raging hormones. “More like telling them how much you pissed me off this morning.”
“Ah, so you saw the pantry?” He grinned and snatched one of her chili-cheese fries.
She smacked his hand, causing him to drop the fry. “And the silverware drawer. And the pictures.”
“I was curious to see how you’d react.”
Logan raked his gaze over the new guest, and Anjali watched some of the tension ease from his shoulders. Whatever Will was, he wasn’t a vampire. But then, he wouldn’t have left Morwen’s office if he had been. “Why are you stalking Anjali?” he said in his big brother tone.
“I was curious to learn what her abilities were. And now that I need her help, I wanted to make sure she’d be the right person for the job before I dragged her into this.”
Jen leaned forward, giving Will an unimpaired view of her cleavage. “So, tell me about yourself.”
Logan winced at her obvious flirtation, but what bothered Anjali more was the way her gut tightened. She hated Will. Why should she care if another woman flirted with him? It’s not like she wanted him or anything.
His black gaze flickered to her, and a flush crept up her neck into her face. “I think that’s on a need to know basis.”
“We’re all friends here, Vassago, as well as employees of the Foundation,” she replied, turning away from him before her hormones got the better of her and she ended up straddling his lap.
“Yes, but I only agreed to work with you.”
Damn, he could manifest all the charm of James Bond when he wanted. And she could tell Jen had already fallen for it. If they stayed here any longer, the witch would probably invite him back to her place, and Logan would spend the next week pouting.
Of course, she’d also be pouting if Will went home with Jen. “I got the message. Why don’t we just leave and get to work? The sooner I help you find what you want, the sooner I’ll be able to return to my normal life.”