- •I’m definitely blushing now from his compliment. “Fittie,” that’s like extreme hotness. I never think of myself that way. He must be a playa or something.
- •I go rigid when I hear echoing undertones in Reed’s voice. The student immediately leaves without a word. Reed’s green eyes shift back to mine as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened.
- •I can almost believe that he’s teasing me; if that isn’t the most ridiculous notion I have had thus far. “I just knew I was going to regret that question,” I mumble as I blush.
- •I stare at him in utter amazement. “Ha, ha, you’re funny, Russell. You know who I am,” I say, but I see by the look on his face that he is confused now.
- •I stare at it breathlessly before I find my voice to ask, “Russell, your necklace…” I want to reach out and touch it, but my hands are shaking, so I put them in my lap to hide them.
- •I see him smile for a second until he reads the serious look on my face, then his smile falters. “Ya do wut?”
- •I squeeze his hand lightly and reply, ““He’s more of a techie than a sportsman.”
- •I shrug, and say with a small smile, “Megan totally fell for it, too. It was worth the stink eye she gave me.”
- •I recognize it immediately as an ip address. “You got it! I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” I say proudly, reaching over and giving him a soft tap on the shoulder.
- •I could spot Reed from a mile away, even with his helmet and face guard on. It is the stealthy, predatory way he moves that completely gives him away.
- •I ignore his confidence in the fact that my knee is going to all but fix itself shortly. “Wouldn’t that be off the hook?” I mutter, and take another sip of cognac.
- •I frown at him while I nod.
- •I hesitate before saying, “But you haven’t done it yet, so one can only assume that you may have envisioned a scenario in which eliminating me is not advantageous?”
- •I turn to see my new professor hailing me back into the classroom. I walk back in slowly, unsure of why Mr. MacKinnon is singling me out. “Yes?” I ask.
- •I look away from him, replying sarcastically, “Well, you can tell jt and Pete for me that the next time they hold a knitting bee and gossip circle, I could use a new sweater!”
- •I give him a funny look, then explain, “Your vitals—your email and all of the websites you think you need to sweep,” I say, smiling at his anti-geek question.
- •I program my number in Freddie’s cell, and then giving it back to him, I look at Russell. “I was going to tell you,” I lie to Russell.
- •I take a huge bite of oatmeal and chew it demonstratively, “Mmmm…oatmeal…my favorite.”
- •It takes me several breaths to answer him because I have never seen him smile like that—it’s intoxicating, especially because I never thought he would smile like that at me.
- •I don’t look at him, but hold the stick tighter. “Because I need it,” I reply evasively.
- •It’s probably nothing to him if I get hurt. I mean, why would he care?
- •I rest my hand on his chest, before cautiously peeking around him. Coffee grounds litter the floor by the coffee maker. “Coffee?” I whisper.
- •I’m not disappointed; it is extremely dreadful to me when he says, “Destroying evil. Fighting the legions of the Fallen damned. I’m a soldier, Evie, an assassin…I told you that.”
- •I stir uneasily to see his face, asking, “But if protecting me will be dangerous for you, why would you take on that responsibility?” He’s crazy to get involved with me.
- •I sigh. “I mean, what are they like when you’re not fighting?” I probe, hoping to get a glimpse into his world.
- •It would’ve been much nicer to hear him say he was ecstatic that I exist, so I try to ignore his comment and ask, “So I can’t tell anyone?”
- •I sigh, “Do you want to come with me?”
- •I set my plate on the table next to Reed’s as he pulls my chair out for me. “Better?” he asks when I am seated.
- •I think for a second, and then say in disappointment, “Oh, yeah, I get that I’m a frustrating creature.”
- •I give a little shrug, “You probably would’ve made the second half, but the Kappas had to forfeit—it was a shut out,” I reply, grateful that there’ll be no second half.
- •I nod, feeling a lump forming in my throat. “So, are you saying that it probably thought that I was one of them—an evil spawn released on the world to destroy it?”
- •I think I really touched a nerve in Reed because he seems to want to say something else as his eyes argue with mine, but after a few seconds, he nods while he says, “Of course. Goodnight, Genevieve.”
- •I try to smile back at Owen, but I hear two sets of growls, one from Reed and the other from Russell. “Thank you, Owen,” I reply, but I’m on edge now, waiting for the next shot to be fired at me.
- •I almost smile, because as I glance around the table, everyone here looks to be feeling completely awkward. Everyone, that is, with the exception of Reed; he’s cool and removed from all of this.
- •I am about to leave but he holds my arm and says, “You should be with Russell.”
- •I let out a breath like he has punched me in the stomach. Holy Freaking Crap! He’s an angel! Don’t freak out—ask him his name, like you’re interested—buy time, I think.
- •I try desperately to reason with Russell again, “We have to help Reed!”
- •I stop kissing him. Straightening, I search his stormy-green eyes again. “But that’s cruel,” I murmur warily.
- •I take a step back from Reed, frowning at him because he knows his voice doesn’t work on me. “Reed…” I say, holding my ears, trying to get the ringing to stop.
- •I don’t get a chance to finish, because he is up rushing around again. “No, we go tonight,” he says as he continues to pack my things.
- •I frown. “Oh…” I breathe, trailing off.
- •I cringe. “I’m only half human,” I correct him softly.
- •I am startled by the angel’s soft, deadly tone as he says, “No, I think I will stay. Something very interesting just walked in.”
- •I shake my head. “I never met my father. I didn’t know that he was an angel until recently,” I reply.
- •I don’t even want to talk about their color, I think.
- •I swear, if he keeps doing that I might purr like a kitten. Don’t think about that right now, just concentrate!
- •Intense frustration shoots through me then as I open my eyes. “Why are you stopping?” I demand breathlessly, searching his face, which looks a bit too smug for my liking.
- •I pull Russell over to the sofa. Sitting down in the middle of it, I make Russell sit next to me. “Did they realize that you were watching them?” I ask him pointedly.
- •I’m not doing this well! He doesn’t understand. I have to do something, but what? I think in desperation.
- •I stop smiling when Reed says, “Evie, we really do have to leave Crestwood now. This place is going to be crawling with curious angels.”
- •In the morning, I awake to sun streaming in the windows of Reed’s guest bedroom. Reed is next to me when I open my eyes.
- •I interrupt him. “Why would my soul give you redemption? How do you know that it’s not evil and would bar you from your Paradise?” I ask him searchingly.
- •I wince at his words. “Purify it? How?” I ask him urgently.
- •I rest my hand on his arm pleadingly. “You don’t want to do this, Freddie.” I say, trying to reason with him. “You and Russell are friends. Russell loves you, I know it,” I beg.
- •I sniffle. “So…Russell’s alive?” I ask.
- •I shake my head. “No, not yet. I don’t want anyone but you right now,” I whisper honestly. “Is he okay?” I ask as Reed tucks the blankets back around me.
- •I sigh tiredly, rubbing my forehead. “Ugh, there is so much to do. I don’t even know where my books are,” I say unhappily. “I have to do well or I’ll lose my scholarship.”
- •I can feel my face paling. “Russell, Alfred is still out there. He still wants my soul, so you aren’t safe until we get him,” I say with urgency.
- •Intuition: The Premonition Series
- •I give Buns a skeptical look. I doubt that any of them would ever think I’m darling. “Pampering is for wimps,” I say, trying to make light of it all.
- •I look over at Reed and see him frowning. “Buns, can you find something else…something a little more feasible…tactically?” he asks.
I frown at him while I nod.
“Genevieve, how naive are you? Russell’s here for one reason and one reason only. He’s here because you brought him here,” Reed states emphatically, getting up from his chair and prowling the room agitatedly.
“What are you talking about? I just met Russell on that walk yesterday. He’s been here all summer at football training camp, so how could I have possibly brought him here?” I ask him logically.
“How indeed?” Reed asks sullenly, toying with one of the marble statues that grace a delicate table.
“Reed, what you’re saying doesn’t make any sense. I would have to be an…I don’t know…a magnet for Russell in order for what you’re saying to have any validity…” I begin to reason, but stop when a shattering sound comes from where Reed is standing.
Blinking, I see pieces of the marble crumble from Reed’s hands. Silently, he begins cleaning up the broken shards of what was once an exquisitely designed statue of an angel, but now resembles a chalky mess.
“People aren’t that strong, Reed,” I state, indicating the crushed statue he is gathering into his cupped hand. A stab of fear sweeps through me, warning me to be cautious.
“You are very astute, Genevieve,” Reed says evenly, while walking the remains of the statue over to the small wastepaper basket by the desk and brushing it off his hands.
“Was that very expensive?” I ask him timidly, trying to calm myself a little.
“Probably,” he replies, not looking at me.
“Now it’s dust,” I say significantly. “So…” I begin, while searching for a safe topic of conversation, “do you think it’ll rain tomorrow?”
Looking at me like I have lost my mind, Reed asks, “We are going to talk about the weather now? You have been rather courageous up until this point. Why hide now?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Reed,” I say with exasperation. “I was just searching for a safe topic of conversation because I don’t know the protocol to follow when I discover that I’m Little Red Riding Hood and that Granny has freakin’ sharp teeth!” I reply, glaring at him. “You have to admit, you’re sketchy with information. It’s like you’re toying with me…” I can’t go on because the lump in my throat won’t allow me to speak. Taking another sip of water, my throat clears enough for me to add, “And I’m tired, Reed… I’m so tired of being afraid.”
Reed is quiet for a long time and then he says softly, “I will let you in on a little secret: You are not wrapped up in an enigma; you are the enigma.” He comes over to the sofa and sits by my knee; his eyes are on my face. “You see, when we were talking this morning and you called yourself a little fish and indicated that I was a big fish, well, that description was not entirely accurate.”
“It wasn’t?” I ask as the hair on the back of my neck begins to rise.
“No, it wasn’t. A more accurate description for me would be that of a shark,” he says, watching me now.
“I see. How stupid of me,” I reply with a sinking feeling.
My mouth goes dry, so I take a small sip of the water he had given me. I wait for fear to overwhelm me because that is the emotion that any rational person would feel upon finding herself closeted with a predator. But, instead of fear, I feel something very different, and it shocks me with its intensity. I feel utterly and completely betrayed. “So, why all of this?” I ask, indicating myself lying on his sofa with a blanket—his blanket. “Why help me out at all today?”
“You mean why, if I’m a shark, have I not attacked?” he asks, his face unreadable. Pulling back the blanket covering my knee, he takes the ice pack from it.
He doesn’t look up when I ask, “You’ve been trying to decide what to do with me, haven’t you? So what? Have you made some kind of decision? Have you decided that I’m a problem that needs to be eliminated?” He’s touching my knee gently, but I refuse to look, focusing on him instead.
Reed frowns. “If I had decided you needed to be eliminated, you would already be gone,” he says succinctly.
Studying his face, I know he is telling me the truth. I’m a threat to him somehow. He is wary of me, and that thought makes me want to comfort him and promise him that I’d never hurt him.
“So, right now, at this moment, I’m not threatening enough to eliminate?” I ask cautiously, unable to bring myself to say kill or murder.
“No, not yet,” he says flatly.
His green eyes hold mine, and I think for a moment how cat-like they are. They are a deep jade color in this light, and add to that, his eyes tilt up at the corners in a perfectly predatory way.
“But…” I begin, processing what he hadn’t said, “you can imagine a scenario in which my elimination would be necessary?” I ask him. I am trying to stay alert and not get drawn in by his sexy façade. I have to pry some information out of him.
“Yes,” he says without hesitation.
My mind whispers to me: I must be some kind of monster because he didn’t even have to think about that one.