Intuition: The Premonition Series Page 5

  “Did you see that coming?” I ask Reed.

  “Yes,” he replies.

  “Oh. Where have I been?” I ask him.

  “You have had a lot on your mind,” he responds as he picks up my hand, holding it to his lips.

  “I thought that Powers don’t really mix well with Reapers,” I say, still trying to figure it out.

  “Well, we usually have a hard time being around each other, you see, because most divine Reapers are annoying.” I start laughing after he says this and he smiles while continuing. “It’s true. Reapers want to talk about rainbows and sunshine and shiny, happy feelings. Powers usually don’t have shiny happy feelings. We wind up wanting to tear them apart, if left in close proximity to them for extended periods of time. But Buns, she’s not like that at all. She can hang with us, talk strategy and tactics and never once mention rainbows,” Reed says.

  I burst out laughing. “You’re kidding, right?” I ask. “Buns would never talk about rainbows and Brownie… there is no way,” I say, thinking of Brownie wasting her breath like that.

  “No, I’m not kidding. Buns and Brownie are the strangest Reapers I have ever met. They don’t seem to be cast in the mold of a Reaper. They aren’t annoyingly happy and bubbly all of the time. It makes me wonder about them,” he says, as if he is mulling over a particular problem.

  “You mean you think there is more to them than they’re showing us?” I ask in alarm.

  “Evie, Zee would normally rather pluck the wings off of a Reaper than sit with one in the car for a minute. But that’s not the case with Buns. He can’t get enough of her. She and Brownie are special,” he says. “But then, we all behave strangely around you. So, maybe it’s a reaction to you.”

  “We’re a very interesting crowd, huh?” I ask him, seeing his brow rise in question. “Let’s see…we have a couple of Reapers who don’t particularly act like Reapers. There is the Power, Zee, whose forte is strategy and warfare. Russell and I are half-breeds with the high rank of Seraphim and the low rank of human, and then there is you—the most perfect angel ever created that can control humans by suggestion.”

  “Evie, I’m not perfect,” Reed says, frowning. “But you are right, it’s a strange crowd,” he agrees in a quiet tone. He gets out of the car and comes around to open my door. Before I can get out, he reaches in and cradles me in his arms, carrying me to the door of the cottage and over the threshold.

  Reed kisses me passionately before letting go of my legs so that my body slides down his as my feet reach the floor. It’s exquisite torture, being held in his arms like this, knowing it is all there can be between us for now. His immense strength could crush me if he is not extremely careful with me. Tearing myself away from him, I notice we are just inside the doorway.

  It’s so cozy inside the three-bedroom cottage. The hardwood floors are not highly polished, but dull and rough, giving a rustic impression to the pale maple wood. The fireplace in the main room is fieldstone in soft gray tones, cobbling its way up to the exposed beams of the ceiling. The mantle is made from the same rough wood as the floors and it holds several glass bowls with floating candles all lit to illuminate the small space. There is also a small, open kitchen. The kitchen has maple wood cabinetry with wrought iron hardware, tumbled stone tiled countertops, and a porcelain sink.

  I walk over to the fireplace and watch the flames of the fire licking at the wood in the grate. For just a moment, I would’ve given anything to live here with Reed for the rest of my life. I would be satisfied to stay here, safe and protected. We could pretend that we aren’t angels and that no one wants to hurt me. We could forget about Alfred and revenge; he would never find us here. I doubt many Fallen would hang here either; they would be after a more exciting venue. But we can’t stay here forever, even if it would be perfect. Eventually, someone would notice our inability to age and we would have to leave. No place can be permanent. I sigh as my brief fantasy is shattered by reality.

  “What’s wrong?” Reed asks.

  “Nothing, I was just wishing we could stay here forever,” I reply.

  “I was thinking the exact same thing,” Reed says with a small smile. “I don’t think I would need more than this, if you were here with me.”

  I smile back at him and would’ve said more, but a crashing sound comes from one of the bedrooms in the back of the cottage. I am startled for a second until I hear Bun’s muffled laughter and realize they’re okay. I blush a little when I look at Reed.

  “Are you hungry, Evie?” Reed asks me quickly.

  “Starved,” I say, because it is a good excuse to get out of the house and away from the bedrooms.

  “There is a restaurant on top of the slope that I think is fairly casual. We just need to head over to a gondola and ride it up to the summit,” he says as more noises come from the bedroom furthest away. Zee and Buns are talking to each other in Angel, and by the look on Reed’s face, I’m fairly sure that for once, I’m grateful I can’t speak their language. “I’ll go get the luggage,” Reed says, and runs out of the house in an instant.

  I choose the room next to Zephyr’s and Buns’s room. Reed takes the one next to mine on the other side. Showering quickly, I style my hair and change into a casual sweater and jeans with lace up boots that go to my knees. Before much time passes, I meet Reed in the main room. He is seated on the sofa with his iPod blaring, having already changed into a cable knit sweater and some jeans. Putting on the coat I had packed for evening, I wrap my scarf around my neck and mouth the word, “Ready?” He nods and tentatively pulls the ear buds out of his ears.

  Taking my hand after he shrugs into his coat, we walk outside and down the lighted path that winds through the trees leading to the slopes. The pine trees are thick and imposing here, like what you would expect in the Black Forest, and it’s so quiet with only the sound of our footsteps to break the silence in the night. For a moment I feel like Lucy escaping into the wardrobe and finding herself in Narnia. We emerge from the woods into a snow covered clearing, awash with light from the tall lanterns mounted overhead. The gondola lift is close to where our path through the trees had ended. We walk over to it, joining a line of snowboarders and skiers waiting patiently to catch a ride back up to the top.

  Entering a gondola, Reed and I are herded toward the back of the car. We stand there together, braced against the far corner, as riders shuffle and maneuver for space. The lift is soon packed with snowboarders ready to take their next run on the hill. It feels like being on a crowded subway car at rush hour, except the people in this car are all talking animatedly to one another. After squeezing in several more riders than necessary, the doors close and the cable begins pulling the car upward. Pressed firmly against Reed’s body, I’m becoming uncomfortably aware that the close proximity is doing crazy things to the butterflies in my stomach.

  Desire makes me moisten my lips as my fingertips trail lightly over the fabric of Reed’s sweater. I want to run my hands under his sweater, to feel his bare chest under my fingertips. I drop my hands to my sides, balling them into fists. Biting my lower lip, I stare up into his green eyes. He smells like the pine trees we had just walked through and an incredibly masculine scent that is quintessentially Reed. I can probably find him blindfolded now just by scent alone, I think as I lean close to him.

  The gondola bounces gently, as the car’s cable hitch goes over the pulley, causing me to brace myself against Reed for support. I close my eyes briefly, savoring the contact. When I open my eyes, Reed’s mouth is dangerously close to mine. My eyes memorize every gentle curve of his sensual lips. There is an ache building inside of me. To be near beauty like this is heaven and it’s the kind of torment that I could never have imagined existed, if I had not been subject to it.

  Again, the gondola bounces as the hitch goes over the next pulley, but this time Reed shifts aggressively towards me. He presses me firmly back against the wall of the gondola, trapping me there with his arms bracing on either side of me. His face nears and I
raise my chin as his cheek gently brushes against mine. Feeling heat radiating off of his skin, he inhales the scent of my hair. One of his hands passes lightly over the curve of my waist and slowly up my body, tracing my shape as if he would memorize my silhouette. My heart beats violently in my chest.

  “Evie,” Reed breathes by my ear, creating a desperate sense of longing in me.

  How are we going to survive this? I wonder as I pull my hands from him to grip the railing that lines the wall behind me. I squeeze the railing tight, feeling the cold metal bar beneath my fingertips give way gently. The sound of metal being crushed registers in my mind; it sounds like a tin can being smashed. My eyes widen and I still for a second, easing my grip from the bar and feeling the distinct ridges of finger impressions.

  Reed stills too, seeing shock register on my face. His hand moves from the wall to investigate the railing, and when he feels the imprints I had left in the handrail, I whisper to him, “Sorry, my bad.” I look around to see if any of the other passengers had heard the crunch of the bar, but no one is paying any attention to us.

  When I look back to Reed, his face registers an even deeper desire than just moments before. “Evie,” Reed replies in a whisper, “that would get a high rating on any angel’s awesomeness scale.”

  “Are you telling me that my bending a railing is hot?” I whisper my question near his ear, fascinated by the darkness in his eyes as he looks at me.

  “In the extreme,” he replies with his sexy voice.

  The lift is now entering the gondola house at the summit and people are shifting and jockeying for a better position in which to exit the car. I don’t breathe for a couple of seconds because Reed’s face is radiant. It’s like he’s proud of me, which is insane because I’ve just crushed the metal railing with my fingers. Now we have to try to hide it, so that no one sees my newly developed strength.

  The doors open and a rush of cold air enters the car as the vacationers all push to exit the lift. I hide the railing from sight for as long as I can until Reed gently pulls me along toward the exit. He wraps his arm around my shoulder as we stroll casually from the car, as if nothing had happened. When we exit the gondola house, the restaurant is just ahead of us on the crest of the hill, overlooking the lights of the small town below. Walking slowly toward the restaurant, I’m grateful for the cold air swirling around us because it’s helping to ease some of the heat that radiates between Reed and me.

  Entering the restaurant, I am assailed by the warmth and understated appeal of the Bavarian-style building. It boasts white-washed walls with darkly stained, exposed wooden beams that pitch high above our heads. Reed leads me forward and he speaks in a whisper to the hostess regarding a table. There is a quiet exchange of cash from Reed to the young woman at the podium whose blushing face indicates that she would give him anything he wants without the bribe. I try not to let her physical response to Reed annoy me, because really, who can blame her? But, it does annoy me and I want to snarl at her. What’s wrong with me? I wonder.

  Within minutes, Reed and I are led to a very nice table for two in front of the windows that overlook the slopes and the twinkling lights of the town below. I gaze out at the night sky, seeing all the stars lay out like a mystical roadmap to destinations not yet revealed to me.

  “I’m getting stronger,” I say, turning back to Reed to see his reaction to my words.

  “Yes,” he replies with a sweet smile, taking my hand.

  “So, does that mean we can lift that ban on the no seduction clause of our contract?” I ask as casually as I can manage.

  “No,” he replies.

  “Why not?” I ask, exhaling deeply.

  “You have to ask?” he counters, and when I nod he continues. “The shadow man who attacked you, just this morning, nearly succeeded in strangling you. I am infinitely stronger than he is and he left bruises on you that didn’t heal for three hours and fifty-two minutes.”

  “That sounds like a pretty accurate observation. Did you count the seconds, too?” I tease him. I lose some of my smile when I see that he had counted the seconds.

  Our waitress arrives at the table then and introduces herself as Katie before asking us for our drink orders. Reed picks up the wine list. I watch as our waitress plays with the ends of her lovely blond hair, twirling it around her finger while she reviews the wine selection with him, leaning in close to him to recommend something she likes. Her arm brushes up against Reed’s briefly when she is pointing out something to him on the menu. She gives him a radiant smile full of flawless teeth when he looks up at her in response.

  My eyes zero in on the contact as my mind rapidly pulses through ways in which to kill her. Startled by my inappropriate reaction to the situation, I pick up the menu that she had placed in front of me, holding it up so that I can’t observe them. I try not to be annoyed when she doesn’t even card him and leaves the table to get the wine he ordered for us. “She’s friendly,” I say, not looking up from my menu.

  “Yes,” Reed agrees as he pulls his menu from the table and begins scanning it.

  “She seems to know a lot about wine,” I say, casually trying to gauge his reaction to the waitress.

  “Yes,” he agrees distractedly, reading the menu.

  Our waitress returns and pours the wine for Reed, giving me an assessing look as if sizing up the competition. When she is finished, she focuses all her attention on Reed as she again leans near him to recommend several different entrees for various reasons. I see her flush hotly when she inhales his scent. Then, her arm accidentally-on-purpose brushes up against Reed again and my eyes focus in on the contact.

  A low growl comes from somewhere deep inside of me. It is so low that only Reed hears it and his eyes snap up to zero in on my hand that is twitching on top of the knife in my table setting. Quickly, Reed places his hand over mine, which pins it to the table as he stares into my eyes.

  “May I please have the salmon?” Reed asks the waitress abruptly, cutting off whatever it is that she had been saying, while not taking his eyes from mine. “Evie, what would you like?” he asks me, continuing to hold my hand down.

  “Same,” I reply in a terse tone, trying not to look at the waitress so I won’t be tempted to pounce on her and tear her apart.

  “Excellent. She’ll have the same,” Reed says quickly and he doesn’t move his hand until the waitress is safely away from the table. Pouring me a glass of wine, Reed studies my face as I raise the glass to my lips to drink. I try to avoid his eyes, and instead, I look out the window, feeling completely lost. “Evie?” Reed asks with concern.

  “I don’t know what just happened, Reed, but I can tell you, that if she touches you one more time, she’s going to wind up with a fork sticking out of her,” I say as an explanation, still not looking at him.

  “Really?” I hear him ask and his voice sounds strange. Glancing at him, I notice that a smile is creeping up the corners of his mouth, even though he’s fighting it. He’s smug! I assess.

  “That is funny to you?” I ask him in a low tone, giving him my full attention. “It probably won’t be in about fifteen minutes when she comes back and brushes up against you again. I should leave now, before I hurt her.” I say, beginning to get up from the table.

  “Evie, please sit,” Reed says quickly, “I’ll take care of it and make sure that she doesn’t touch me again.” He watches me sit back down cautiously. I feel aggressive, like I could lash out at any moment. The feeling is so foreign that I have to take another sip of my wine to try to calm down.

  “What’s wrong with me?” I ask Reed to see if he knows what this is all about. “I feel edgy… like I want to break something.”

  Reed shrugs, but the smile is still lingering, barely suppressed at the corners of his lips, giving away the fact that whatever it is, he’s certainly not unhappy about it. “You are Seraphim,” he says in a nonchalant manner.

  “And?” I counter.

  “And, that makes you extremely protective, even
territorial,” he says, grinning at me, “when it comes to your affection.”

  “My affection?” I ask in confusion.

  “It’s instinctual, the need to protect what is yours,” he says in a soft tone, while watching me.

  Dread creeps into my consciousness when I begin to understand what he’s saying to me. “So you’re saying I just had an instinctual reaction to someone I assessed as invading my territory?” I ask, feeling the blush of embarrassment flushing into my cheeks.

  “No, I’m saying much more than that,” his smile is radiant.

  “How much more?” I ask, taking another sip of my wine.

  “Much, much more,” he replies, and his smugness cannot be contained. “I’m saying you love me.”

  “Oh—I already told you that,” I say, looking at him in uncertainty.

  “Yes, you did and I believed you when you told me in human that you love me, but you never told me that you love me in Angel before,” he replies, and I still.

  “That’s how you say ‘I love you’ in Angel?” I ask incredulously, watching him across the table. He is extremely satisfied judging by the way he sits back in his chair and casually toys with his wine glass.

  “That’s one way,” he replies. “You’ve marked me as yours, your love, and a growl in Paradise is enough of a warning to another angel that you will not share.”

  “Seriously?” I ask.

  “Deadly serious,” he replies. “And, since you’re a Seraph, unless another Seraph challenges you, I’m yours.”

  “But you have a say in the matter. Right? I mean, I couldn’t just claim you. Right? You have free will?” I ask, totally wigging out over this new bit of information.

  “Evie, I haven’t had free will with you since I met you. But, yes, theoretically, I wouldn’t have to be your love if I didn’t reciprocate your affection,” he replies as he picks up my hand again, lacing it through his own.