Craved: A Chosen Ones Novel (7 page)

“That makes two of us. I would think that it pertains to you in some way as well, but from what Bennett told me the Archangel told him, it doesn’t sound like it does.”

Chase looked at me in the same way he’d done earlier. Again, the calculating movement within his eyes told me the wheels behind them were spinning. He was deciding on something. I saw it in his eyes the moment he made a decision.

“I know you probably won’t believe me, or might think I am crazy when I say it, but sometimes I think the Archangel may not be fighting on the same team as us Nephilim.”

 
He was right, he did sound crazy. The Archangels created the Nephilim specifically to fight a battle on Earth which they could not. Furthermore, M-, the Archangel he spoke of was not just any Archangel. He was
the
Archangel. The oldest and most powerful of them all who led the charge against the Brethren when they initially rebelled against heaven and the Most High. He was their leader, holding the position equivalent to a General of the Most High’s. Even before he’d inherited the position from Lucifer when he tried to wrest control of Heaven and Earth for himself, he had been Lucifer’s Second and a Lieutenant to the Most High. Still…

“That is quite an accusation given the Archangel in question. But I suppose if Lucifer himself, the righthand of the Most High, could turn against him, then it is possible for any of them to.”

Shock colored his sapphire-blue eyes. “You digested that pill easily. My own mother gagged on it, then vomited it back up when I told her.”

“Everyone who is supposed to be good isn’t always good. Sometimes they are just very good at tricking people into believing they are.” I said the words much more casually than the emotions they induced in me made me feel. But I shoved them back down. Stuffed them back inside the closet and buried them under a mound of earth…like Deacon and Danielle were. Damn it! Why wouldn’t my brain cooperate today? It kept trying to dredge up subjects that were stones better left unturned. I forced the thoughts of the twins out of my mind and they were replaced by a different one. This one was just as dark, but caused a hysterical giggle to bubble up out of me.

Chase quirked an eyebrow at me, no doubt wondering at my sanity.

“I promise I haven’t suddenly gone insane. I just thought about how ironic it is that Bennett forced me to partner up with you, thinking it would give me an added layer of protection specifically from the very Brethren it is your job to hunt down and kill.”

Chase poured us a third shot. “So what are the chances of you telling me about the prophecy regardless of the Archangels’ threat?”

The way he casually said it made me suspicious. He said he had doubts about the Archangel not being what he appeared to be, but what if he was the one who that sentiment really applied to?

“Next to none,” I tell him straightforwardly. “I don’t know you and therefore I don’t trust you.”
 

In the quirky romance books I liked to read, whenever the girl was faced with the question of rather to trust the mysterious guy that had appeared in her life, the answer was always yes. And it was always based on nothing more than some gut feeling or instinct. I never understood that logic. It was stupid, and naive. People were rarely ever as they appeared and gut instincts could be wrong. I learned that the hard way. The last time I trusted someone blindly it came back on me to do a lot more damage than biting me on my ass. It resulted in the loss of lives. Innocent lives that— shit! The past really was refusing to stay buried today.
 

Chase raised the bottle of Jack Daniels to refill our shot glasses.
 

“I think I’ve had enough,” I said stopping him before he could pour more of its contents into mine.
 

He diverted the bottle to his own shot glass. “That’s understandable,” he said cooly.
 

I curiously eyed him as he threw back the last of the liquid that had been in the glass bottle. “That’s…a mature response. I expected you to be irked at my refusal.”

 
His blue eyes sparked with something I would call facetiousness if the discussion we were having weren’t so serious. “Patience isn’t one of my better qualities, but I can muster a bit up when the situation calls for it. We’re partners now remember, and according to you Bennett wants us joined at the hip. Eventually, I’ll crack your exterior.” He flashed me a dimpled grin then followed it up with a wink.
 

I never thought a guy could look like anything but a dork when winking, but on Chase, paired with twin dimples and a dreamy face nearly perfect in its features, it had exactly the effect he was aiming for. My inner self swooned a little bit and I thought about the word Whitney used to describe guys she thought were hot—
fuckable
.
Oh my God, I must be drunk,
I thought while fighting the goofy smile that wanted to spread across my face in response to him. This was not the seventies. Who said or even thought the word dreamy anymore besides the characters on
Grey’s Anatomy
and the writers who wrote for the show.

“What time is it?” When I jumped up from the couch the room swayed a little. Patting my back pockets for my phone, where I knew I’d stored it, I didn’t at first feel it. Then I patted them again and located it in my right, not my left one. Seriously, it couldn’t have been sticking out of my jeans the entire time.
 

“Shit! We were supposed to start patrolling Atlantic Station an hour ago.”

Chase made no effort to get off the couch.

Why the hell wasn’t he moving his ass? “We need to go,” I urged him to kick it into gear.

“I don’t think you’re capable of doing anything tonight. I hadn’t pegged you for a lightweight.” He pointedly looked at the empty bottle resting on the glass coffee table in front of the couch.
 

“I’m fine,” I scoffed.
 

He quirked a brow up at me. “Really?”

And what the hell was that supposed to mean? “Really,” I snapped at him.

The corners of his lips twitched in response. “Okay,” he said in an indulgent tone that struck a nerve. “Out of the weapons you have on you at the moment, which one is your weapon of choice?”

That was an odd question and I didn’t see what it had to do with anything. “My throwing knives,” I answered anyway because he was becoming annoying and I was starting to feel particularly surly. I flung the words at him, making it crystal clear that I was envisioning flinging the very things that had been my answer.

His lips twitched again. “Alright.”
 

He finally stood up. Good. We could go. We were already late.
 

Instead of turning towards the door, he turned to the wall the fireplace was nestled in beside the couch. A dartboard hung above it. “If you can hit the bullseye we’ll leave.”

I raised my chin. “I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

“It’s cool if you can’t do it.”

I bristled. “I can hit a target from a mile away with one hand tied behind my back.”

“Maybe. But can you hit one from a few feet away with
both
hands free? Right now, I doubt it.”

“I can hit a target anytime, any place, anywhere.” I wasn’t being conceited. Okay, maybe I was a little, but it was true nonetheless. When it came to knives I had
skillz.
 

“Prove it.”

My ego made me answer the challenge. I bent down, grabbing the knife strapped to my ankle, then straightened my spine. Its weight felt off, heavy, in my hand. I focused my eyes on the small circle of red in the center of the dartboard and saw two red circles instead of one. They were linked together like venn diagrams or olympic rings. I blinked twice then looked at the dartboard again. Good. There was only one circle now. I raised my arm, brining my hand level with my eyes, and threw the knife with a jerky movement. The knife flew ungracefully through the air, hit the wall next to the dartboard and bounced off, crashing to the floor. Well shit. I hadn’t even thrown it with enough force for it to embed itself in the plaster. I plopped back onto the couch.
 

“Fine. You win.” I swiped my thumb across the screen of my phone then tapped the Uber app to open it. Lucky for me, there was only a fifteen minute wait for an Uber. That wasn’t always the case on a Thursday night in a city with five colleges within a fifteen mile radius of its downtown area. “Since we’re not patrolling I should get home. An Uber will be here in fifteen minutes. I’ll call Bennett on the way over and make up a reason for why we didn’t make it to Atlantic Station. I’ll tell him I got sick or something.” I stood from the couch and headed for the front door.

“Alex,” Chase called after me.

When I turned around he looked like he wanted to say one thing but then decided to say something different. “Wait up, it’s late. I’ll walk you down.”

I started to tell him that I was a big girl and could take care of myself. I walked the streets of Atlanta five nights out of the week by myself until ungodly hours in the morning. But I didn’t, and that must have been the alcohol’s doing. Instead all I said was okay.
 

Just like I didn’t patrol on Fridays, I didn’t have classes on Fridays either. It and Saturday were my two true off days. I normally used them to do the things any other twenty year old attending college would do. I slept in late, tidied my apartment, did a couple of loads of laundry, and leisurely laid about in my bed with a good book or on the couch watching T.V with Whitney. We always ordered either pizza or Chinese take out for lunch then she sometimes talked me into going to a party or two or five somewhere around campus or in the city with her. I usually squeezed in a run somewhere in there too. I didn’t like running, but it was a necessary evil that I forced myself to partake in along with weight training a few days out of the week to stay in shape.
 

I sat on our sofa beside Whitney with a large bowl of kettle corn and take-out pizza from Little Azio’s wedged in between us. We caught up on episodes of
The Originals
that we’d missed while debating the finer points of the show— like who was the finest: Klaus, Elijah or Marcel. Personally Klaus Michaelson was at the top of my list, followed by Marcel and then Elijah. Whitney’s ordered list was mine in reverse. A knock at our apartment door interrupted the argument.
 

“Are you expecting somebody?” I asked her.

If she was it wasn’t a problem. I was used to her having company over and never minded, but it was unlike her not to give me a heads up in advance.
 

She shook her head no, looking just as surprised by the unexpected visitor as I was. “Are you?”

I snorted. “Am I ever?”

“No, but you need to be,” she tossed over her shoulder as she strode towards the door. She looked out the peephole then turned to me grinning like a cheesier cat. “I think heaven just answered my prayers. It took them long enough. I always wanted it to rain hot guys.”

I rolled my eyes at her then they attempted to pop out of their sockets when she opened the door and revealed who stood on the other side of it.
 

“Hi. Is Alex here?” Dimples appeared in the hollows of his cheeks as Chase gave Whitney one of those panty-dropping smiles.
 

“Yes, she is,” she said stepping aside and looking at him like she wanted very much to take off her own panties and offer them and what they would no longer cover up to him on a silver platter. Knowing my best friend and roomie, it would only be a short amount of time before she actually did.
 

Who could blame her? Chase was scorching. His impossibly good looks and leanly muscled body combined with the cool confidence that radiated off him in waves make him walking sex on a stick. Not that I wanted a sample or anything but still…the thought of Whitney wanting it and most assuredly getting it like she got everything else she went after left me feeling not quite right about the prospect.
 

“Who is that,”
Whitney mouthed behind Chase’s back as he walked into the apartment.

I don’t know why I hesitated before introducing them but I did. Finally in a resigned, accepting tone I motioned towards my roommate. “Whitney this is Chase. He just transferred from Orlando and Bennett is forcing me to partner up with him on patrols. Chase meet my roommate Whitney. She is also my best friend and is well aware of my involvement in The Society. So you can feel free to speak candidly around her.”

Whitney smiled at him, flashing dimples of her own and looking every bit like she should be gracing the cover of a magazine. “Nice to meet you. Alex, you didn’t tell me you had a new partner. I’m surprised you accepted one this time. But from looking at him, I kind of see why you did. If Bennett would have found you one this fine before you probably would have agreed to a new one a long time ago.”

Oh God. Did she really have to go there
out loud
? I felt my cheeks reddening more and more with every word she spoke. Sometime I loved my best friend and other times I wanted to choke the life out of her. This was one of the latter times. It was the quickest, most efficient way to shut her up.
 

Chase arrogantly winked at me. Just like last night it made my stomach do little weird somersault thingies and I had to swallow the goofy grin that my lips wanted to stretch into in response.
 

“Is that why you accepted partnering up with me so easily Alex? Because you think I’m hot?”

I folded my arms over my chest. I glared at my supposed friend and then Chase. “I am not going to even dignify that with a response. Anyway, what’s up? Why are you here? No scratch that. How’d you get my address?” I quickly changed the subject.

“It’s in your file. And I’m here because when I was sparring with Tyler at headquarters earlier Bennett told me to let you know that since we missed our scheduled shift last night, we have to make up for it by patrolling tonight.”