Angel Rising: Redemption Book 1 Page 2

  Finally, she had his attention.

  He pulled back slightly, some form of self-preservation kicking in. “Who—are you?”

  “Shhh. It will be all right. I promise,” she whispered.

  The man sat up and she wrapped her arms around him.

  Unable to help himself, he let her.

  Hmm, handsome. She always seemed to gravitate toward the young, good-looking ones, although she’d never sleep with any of them. Well, hardly ever. She nuzzled the side of his neck. Under the alcohol he’d indulged in, he had a nice clear human scent. Given his emotional state, she’d expected the scent of alcohol to be stronger. Surprisingly she only caught a slight whiff. No more than a beer. Maybe he just started on his drinking for the evening. Didn’t matter. Whatever he’d ingested, she didn’t care about.

  “What—?”

  She didn’t give him a chance to say more. Instead, she made her way to his mouth, which opened as soon as she pressed her lips against his. Unleashing her powers, she inhaled his depression into the starving emptiness that should have housed her soul, and at the same time, began to read his memories.

  Poor thing. Karl, yes…Karl Hammer. He’d recently lost his job and his wife, pregnant with their first child, someone didn’t know about it. He’d swallowed his pride and asked his blood uncle of sorts for help. Except Karl hadn’t spoken to his uncle in years. Mmm, interesting. She probed for the reason why.

  Samuel and the others like him lived a dangerous life. Samuel, a master hunter of the soulless and Karl, merely…bait.

  “What the hell?” Thalya pulled away from the man who now slumped against her shoulder. She’d drained him of his depression and swallowed his more recent memories in seconds, but his last thought had her trembling. The soulless did not know fear, but throughout the ages, a small secret group of humans would appear who were aware of their existence. Well trained in combating her kind, they made it their life’s work to hunt and destroy every soulless. But—that happened a long, long time ago, when the soulless killed more openly and much less discretely.

  Didn’t it?

  “This cannot be,” Thalya mumbled. She had heard nothing about a new era of hunters in this area. Then again, she didn’t exactly watch the news or read the newspapers on a regular basis. Such a thing would not be on the news, anyway. She preferred not reading about wars, death and the prejudices of man. She had her television shows, her books and other forms of entertainment. Also, a few friends of her kind, but she didn’t see them often. Only about every few decades or so. Like her, most of her friends fed off depression or hopelessness. They never caused it.

  The last soulless she’d spent any real time with was Adam, another olden and the ancient among them, a couple hundred years ago now.

  “Stay away from the other soulless,” Adam had told her. “Especially, the ones manipulating terror.”

  “Give me some credit,” she’d replied. “I know they manipulate human emotions to suit their needs.”

  “More importantly, they take blood and thrive on the more dangerous emotions: anger, hate and fear. Emotions they themselves cause born of cruelty and death,” Adam had said.

  “I know. They carry off a completely different vibe.” She’d been around enough of them to know the difference and wanted no part of those who dealt in death. She spent time with Adam because back then, the soulless were hunted. Nothing would harm her under his protection.

  “And they are the reason we are hunted to begin with,” Adam said. Adam did what he could to prevent human deaths, but even he disappeared every few hundred years or so, and her kind grew bolder in his absence.

  The last few times she’d noticed the news, there’d been certain items catching even her attention, if briefly. An increase in violent family crimes where a mother or father killed an entire family or an entire family disappeared, except for one member. They’d made her wonder if those other types of soulless were on the rise once more.

  If they were causing havoc again, the hunt would be on for all soulless. The hunters never bothered to understand the difference between one of her kind, who sought human providers, and those others who sought human prey.

  Thalya didn’t glance at her provider again, just lowered him gently to the bench.

  He would continue to sleep for a few minutes, waking up refreshed.

  She need not fear Karl. His uncle, however, she did not want to encounter. A slight stirring in the air made her glance in the direction of the shadowed area of the walkway. Her keen eyesight, able to penetrate the dark saw nothing, but something, someone hid there. Watching her.

  Not wasting time to find out who or what waited in the shadows, Thalya stood and walked hurriedly away. She only fought when absolutely necessary, preferring to avoid confrontation. No human and not many of her own kind could out run her. At first, she headed toward her building but soon realized she’d been followed from the park. Too close. Instead of crossing the street and entering the hotel, she continued moving quickly down the sidewalk, away from her building. She increased her speed to lose her pursuer in the crowds.

  Whoever followed her proved better than good. He kept up with her, even at a pace beyond human ability. But she still hadn’t moved as quickly as she could. She found it fascinating and so little made her curious. Perhaps, because she’d just fed, she held a modicum of borrowed emotion.

  A male tailed her. Testosterone dominated his emotional scent at the thrill of the chase.

  After a quick decision, she ducked into a bar to see if he would follow.

  Friday night, so humans looking for a quick hook up or something more packed the place. Perfect neutral ground. A few high round tabletops stood near the bar but all were occupied.

  Thalya focused on one in the far corner where a couple sat in privacy. Something she might need. She headed in their direction and stopped beside their table.

  The man and woman both glanced up at her.

  Casually, she placed a hand on each of their shoulders, and they jerked as she captured first one gaze, then the other. With her powers of persuasion, she calmed them and gently pushed them in the direction they were already headed—back to his place. With a passing thought, Thalya changed the suggestion to the woman’s apartment. She had a roommate. A girl couldn’t be too careful.

  Without a word, the couple rose, grabbed their coats from the back of the stools, and walked out of the bar.

  Thalya smiled at their retreating backs and then took off her jacket, draped it over one of the vacated stools, and sat with her back to the door.

  Her pursuer did not disappoint.

  The fine hairs standing at attention at the base of her neck alerted her to his presence.

  Ah, now she understood better. Her instincts never failed her. Not quite human, but not soulless either. A puzzle. She didn’t bother to turn around, just pushed the stool out across from her—a silent invitation for him to sit. She could not experience enjoyment from a puzzle but puzzles held her attention. This one especially.

  Chapter Two

  A puzzle.

  Samuel never did like them. This female didn’t react like the others. For one thing, she hadn’t taken blood from Karl. She’d just kissed him and put him to sleep. Samuel had paused long enough to check on his nephew and signal in back up to take care of him. While there were no puncture wounds on his neck, confirming she hadn’t taken any blood and his kin didn’t appear hurt, something did happen. Other than the unexpected rage, overcoming him when he watched her mouth pressed against another man’s. He’d had an instinctual urge to rip Karl away from her by his hair, and not harm her.

  He shook his head. No. Not possible. He only felt rage on Karl’s behalf. After all, his relative’s life had been threatened by a bloodsucker. Yet, she’d run away instead of confronting him and yes, she knew she’d been watched. Almost always the soulless fought, feeding off the physical confrontation unless they were losing. Then they high tailed it—if they could.

  Why hadn�
��t she taken any blood? The million dollar question he needed answered and what drove him after her. He just couldn’t quite figure out what she’d done to Karl. Something had happened; his instincts never failed him. They screamed at him she held no soul, but…there was a difference about her. Whatever he sensed separated her from others of her kind—the soulless ones.

  Over the years, he’d heard rumors some bloodsuckers were different, but he’d never quite believed it, or rather allowed himself to do so. Even though his very existence proved at least one had been different. Until now, he didn’t dare believe there were others. Well, the something different about her he’d sensed and the fact she hadn’t taken Karl’s blood being the only reasons he hadn’t killed her back at the park, and still wouldn’t—at least not quite yet. It’d been a long time since anything had interested him on so many levels, especially a woman, one unlike any female he’d ever encountered. That alone got his attention.

  “Hello.”

  Her voice came across as smooth, like taking a sip from a glass of hundred-year-old brandy. Nothing but pleasure generated from the heat making a path inside him. The way he wanted inside her. The combination of her voice and looks had his long dormant cells waking up and paying attention when they should damn well stay dormant. He could use one of those glasses of brandy right about now. Maybe it would wake him up from this fantasy.

  Samuel hadn’t gotten a good look at her face, just a flash of red heels as she moved. Either her back or profile had been turned to him. Unable to help himself, he paused after he pulled out the stool. To cover his hesitation, he took off his heavy jacket and placed it on the back of the stool before sitting. His weapon, a short sword, lay hidden in a sheath sewn into a side panel, still within easy reach.

  All of the soulless ones he’d encountered since becoming a hunter six hundred years ago had been beautiful, whether male or female. Literally, deathly so. The woman seated before him did not qualify as the exception, far from it. About runway model height and beautiful enough to make them look like rejects, her coloring reminded him of toffee, her complexion being just a richer darker shade of toffee candy than her hair. Plump lips in a heart-shaped flawless face had him wondering about the way she tasted. Did she taste like the candy she resembled? She might not be the first soulless female he’d encountered, but she was the first to get this reaction of intense attraction from him. As well as one of the most memorable.

  “Hello,” he finally replied, purposely sitting back and folding his arms on the table in front of him.

  Her gaze held his, her eyes were the same pitch black of all soulless, yet nothing seemed empty about them. His image looked back at him in their depths. Not possible.

  There should be no reflection, just a sea of endless darkness the unwary would drown in. He blinked and looked away, knowing what it meant to look too deeply into the eyes of these creatures. They beguiled humans and their prey ended up losing a sense of self, resulting in death. But then again, he was more than human. He turned and met her direct stare again. His reflection still lay within.

  The waitress heading in their direction prompted him to glance away, a welcome distraction. “A glass of Remy Martin, please,” he told the young lady before she could ask.

  The woman across from him shook her main of curly hair at the waitress to indicate she didn’t want anything. The strands cascaded over her shoulders covering the material at the tip of one of her breasts.

  He wondered if the texture of her hair felt as soft as it looked. What the hell! “Wait,” he said to the waitress as she turned away. Maybe he needed a little something to smooth his restless soul. “Do you have any Courvoisier L’Espirt?”

  She frowned like he spoke unrecognizable French.

  Well, that answered that. “Never mind, the Remy’s fine. And a full glass.” He would need it. Figures, this little hole in the wall wouldn’t have something going for over sixty-eight hundred a bottle. He’d have to wait until he got home to get a decent drink.

  “Hmm, and you have excellent taste too.”

  The word excellent sounded more like a purr, reminding him he still had to deal with the being in front of him, and this—he hesitated, not wanting to think in terms of attraction but unable to come up with another word for the force gripping him. Once the waitress moved off, Samuel gathered his mental defenses about him. He would need all of his formidable skills around this woman. “Yes, very,” he finally replied.

  Instinct made him clamp down on his emotions and thoughts but the attraction still surfaced, which should have been unfeasible. His control had never before been breached. Too bad, the pull between them gave lie to his claim of control. The waves of tension burned so brightly, he could practically see the visual links in the way their bodies strained to and away from each other as they leaned across the table.

  “Who are you?” She tilted her head slightly, probing at his defenses. “What are you?”

  He smiled, even chuckling a little at her boldness. Something he hadn’t done in a long time. Damn, interesting and unbelievably beautiful, even for one of her kind. “A little forward, don’t you think?”

  “Perhaps, but who chased whom? You obviously want something, so I allowed myself to be…caught, to satisfy your curiosity.”

  He raised one eyebrow at her. “You did, did you?”

  She grinned, showing perfect white teeth in an already otherworldly beautiful face. “Oh, yes. But in exchange I think my questions need answers too.”

  He nodded, liking her even more. Perhaps a more dangerous emotion to have around one who feeds on it. “My name is Samuel Glaus. Yours?”

  Her eyes narrowed and she seemed to contemplate her response.

  Whether the reaction was about his name or his request for hers, he wasn’t sure. “Oh come on,” he said shifting on the stool to fold his arms on the small lacquer tabletop between them. “I thought we agreed to exchange answers.”

  “In a manner of speaking. You may call me Thalya.”

  “Well Thalya, I think you already know I’m a hunter, and the only reason you’re not dead is because as far as I could tell, you didn’t harm Karl back at the park.”

  Her full lips curled up at the corners.

  Watching her, he found himself grinning back at her, like they were friends or something. Better yet, if he could just kiss the edges around her luscious mouth. He shoved those thoughts out of his head and tightened his emotions down even more. For the first time in many years, he had to fight against his instincts rather than follow them. He frowned instead. “You’re not like the other soulless bloodsuckers I’ve encountered.”

  “Soulless I might be, but blood…” She shivered as if to indicate distaste. “Yuck!”

  Either he read her actions correctly or she appeared craftier than the others. Maybe both. “So you say, but what exactly did you do to Karl?”

  “Tell you what, I’ll tell you what I did and you tell me what you are.” She waved a well-manicured hand with nails painted a dark red in the air before him. “Yes, yes I know you’re a hunter and all, but you’re not quite human.”

  The slenderness of her hands fascinated him. He wondered about her touch and what to tell her about himself. This time, he let instinct guide him. “Fine. You first.”

  She leaned closer and crossed her arms on the small tabletop between them, mimicking his posture.

  He automatically moved forward, to better hear her, not to catch another whiff of her fragrance. In all his considerable years and travels, he’d never smelled anything like it. If twilight had a scent, this would be it. No perfume crafted by man had this essence—the scent of wild nights and all Thalya. Only an inch separated their fingers from touching on the table, but it might as well have been a thousand miles. He could never know her touch.

  When she finally spoke, Thalya pitched her voice low, like she told him a prized secret, “I took his depression.”

  He needed a moment to reply, captivated by the woman more than her response.
What the hell? He shook his head to get back into this game. “Exactly.”

  “That’s the emotion I feed on, but I do not cause it. So, no killing or bleeding necessary. When Karl wakes up, he’ll feel refreshed and less depressed.”

  “What?” He reared back just as the waitress approached with his brandy. He waited for her to leave before he leaned forward again. “What do you mean, the emotion you feed on?” he whispered harshly. “Don’t all your kind feed on blood filled with any strong human emotion?”

  She shook her head. “Gracious no. The problem with you hunters is you never could tell the difference among us. Most of us only feed on human emotions, period, not blood, leaving the human quite unharmed from the encounter and at times, feeling better than when we found them.”

  He took a sip of his brandy. “That’s debatable.” The warmth seeping through his veins did nothing to ease the problems she posed for him. Maybe he should have ordered something stronger.

  “But true. Why don’t you call—your nephew, is it?—and see for yourself? He should be awake by now.”

  Samuel frowned, surprised at her suggestion. Still, he pulled out his cell and called Karl, who answered on the third ring.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine,” Karl replied. “I left Eric and I’m headed home now. Listen, thank you for letting me do this. Things will be much better now.”

  “No, thank you for tonight. I’ll check on you tomorrow.”

  “Do that. And Samuel, I expect us to see more of you.”

  “We’ll see.” Samuel ended the call, not wanting to say too much in front of Thalya. Even though centuries of great uncles stood between him and his nephew Karl, it didn’t matter. Samuel would always protect his family. It irritated him a little to find Thalya spoke the truth. Karl did sound a lot better, more confident than when he’d first stopped by to see him earlier. But the funds Samuel had immediately transferred into Karl’s account probably had more to do with his emotional state than whatever Thalya had done.

  “Doesn’t prove anything,” he retorted as he placed his phone back into his pocket. “I know strong negative or destructive human emotions attract your kind and Karl focused on his depression to reel you in. He already knew after tonight he’d be fine, his personal situation taken care of. So, I doubt you had anything to do with the change in his emotional state. He just stopped focusing on those negative emotions.” He shrugged, and took another sip from his glass, feigning nonchalance. “You probably didn’t have a chance to do what you really needed to do.”