Night Angel (5 page)

“Sorry,” he said. “Not feelin’ much like myself these days.”

“Wish there was somethin’ we could do to help.”

“Me, too.” He raised his hand in a quick goodbye and slipped out into the night.

Colin hunted at the docks, feeding quickly without killing either of the men he found. Neither of them was a criminal—he’d entered their minds first to find out—so he fed without stopping their hearts and mesmerized each one. They wouldn’t remember seeing him, only feel the pounding headache and a hunger for red meat.

His skin warmed from the influx of fresh blood. With his hands in his pockets, he walked toward Juliana’s flower shop, ignoring the desire to rush. He needed information and did his best to banish memories of her smile and the way her dark eyes sparked with energy before she jotted notes on her pad.

How would she react if he told her they didn’t need her notepad to communicate? He ground his teeth. There was no future in these thoughts. She would never know about his abilities. And unlike the previous evening, tonight he wouldn’t hesitate to trespass into her mind, no reason to prolong contact with the mortal woman when he could easily learn her secret.

He approached her shop and stopped outside. She stood behind the counter, engrossed in a project. Beside her sat a cup with filled with roses and tulips. She lifted her hands, her fingers deftly making folds while she inspected the bloom. Satisfied, she placed it in the cup with the others and retrieved another sheet of paper.

Paper flowers.

Why would a florist, surrounded by fresh cut flowers, make paper flowers? Shaking his head, he reminded himself he had a goal tonight, a purpose. The challenge would be to keep that goal in mind when this woman distracted him.

He walked up the flower-lined path and pulled open the door. She lifted gaze, and the joy in her grin disarmed him. She held up her notepad.
Is it 6:30 already?

The coquettish glint in her eyes coaxed an unexpected laugh from his throat.

He tipped his head. “I thought it would never get here.”

Color crept up her neck, and he reached for her thoughts.
I hope I’m not blushing. He has no business knowing how long it’s been since I had a date.

Instead of probing for more information and memories about her recovery from losing her hearing, Colin closed the mental connection, resisting the urge to apologize for the intrusion. She’d never realize he heard her thoughts, and he had no intention of invading her mind without her knowledge again. Even if it was easier.

Something about her demanded his respect. Learning how she did it would take longer than he’d anticipated. He’d need to actually get to know her.

And a larger part of him than he wanted to admit looked forward to it.

Benedict turned the corner to the flower shop and froze when he looked in the window. Juliana was not alone. Colin, the Night Walker, stood at the counter, chatting. The Mayan bastard had returned to the island. Did he know Benedict was reclaiming this territory?

Not that it mattered. He’d fed on enough human lives now to replenish his strength. He could face the Night Walker, and this time, he would be the victor.

He wondered what led the night Walker to this flower shop—coincidence or fate?

Benedict chose to believe fate. Finally the injustice brought about by the Night Walker would be righted. Watching through the window, he remained hidden. For now, he would bide his time. Clarity would come, and fate’s plan would reveal itself.

Eventually.

And he had all the time in the world.

She untied her apron and stowed it under the counter. When she straightened, Colin was running his fingers along the edges of her paper flowers.

“These are amazing.”

Grabbing her pen, she jotted,
They’re immortal.

He jolted upright after reading her words, confusion lining his face. “Come again?”

The color will fade eventually, but these flowers never wilt or die. Immortal.

He chuckled, relaxing. “I can relate to the fading part.”

She rolled her eyes.
Oh please, you look plenty vibrant.

For a moment, sadness shadowed his features. He moved toward the door, and she waited. Often people forgot that if they turned away from her, lip reading became impossible. He glanced back, realization dawning. “Bugger me.” He shook his head. “Forgive me. I asked if you were hungry.”

Juliana nodded, hoping her stomach wasn’t grumbling in answer for her.

“Shall we walk to the Bridled Pony?”

She cringed.
No. Muriel would never leave us alone.
She smiled and added to her note.
I know a quiet place not far from here. They have wonderful shepherd’s pie.

“Lead the way.”

She locked up the store and walked alongside Colin, enjoying the crisp night air. Normally, she kept a brisk pace. The café was just a couple of blocks away, a quick trip on foot, but having Colin this close made her hyperaware of every step, slowing her. It was probably best she couldn’t write and walk at the same time or she’d be scribbling all kinds of meaningless notes.

The lights of the café beckoned across the street. Juliana checked for traffic. Since she’d lost her hearing, watching for cars and trucks was drilled into her by her entire family. Now it was automatic. But the moment she stepped out, Colin’s hand brushed her lower back, guiding her as he kept pace, definitely not something she was used to.

Her pulse jumped at his steadying touch before her brain kicked in. He was being polite. He’d been raised well. It didn’t mean anything. Colin opened the door and followed her inside. She did her best not to notice the moment his hand left her back. Instead, she reminded herself that she still didn’t know why Colin was pursuing her.

And she intended to find out.

The hostess recognized Juliana and grinned. “Your table is open in the corner.”

Juliana nodded, walking to the familiar table. Usually she ate alone, and sitting with her back to the corner gave her a perfect view of the room. No one could startle her from behind that way. She took her usual chair, and Colin sat across from her.

She pulled out her pad.
I know you own Sea Haven, and Bartley speaks highly of you, but I’m curious…
She hesitated, stealing a glance at him. With a sigh, she put the pen back to paper.
Why did you ask Bartley about me and my shop? If tonight is out of pity for the deaf pianist, we can call it a night right now and save us both some time.

Pity? Colin stared at her words before meeting her eyes. Did this beautiful, resilient woman truly believe he was only here out of pity?

He shook his head. “I asked Bartley about you because I admired your spirit. You continue to play piano even when you can no longer enjoy the music.”

She sized him up for a moment.
I may not “hear” it the same way I used to, but I can feel the vibrations of the chords, and that “sound” brings me joy.

He nodded and cleared his throat as the waitress came over. He ordered food he wouldn’t eat and a Guinness he wouldn’t be able to finish. After the she hurried off, he rested his forearms on the table, leaning closer to her. “You intrigue me.”

One side of her full lips turned up.
How so?

“It would be justified for you to be bitter and angry. Yet you choose to keep moving forward in spite of the fate you were handed.”

I was angry. Very angry.
She took a sip of her drink and crossed out the last sentence on her pad.
Let’s talk about something else. Tell me about your family. Do they live nearby?

He had no idea the lies would need to start so quickly. Another reason it didn’t make sense to forge a relationship with a mortal. But there was no other way to discover her secret, and if his suspicion about the roses was right, Benedict could be one of her customers.

Lying was a necessary evil. If he confessed that he was the Mayan God of the South and even more immortal than her paper flowers, she’d run from the restaurant.

“My three brothers are all I have left in the world.”

Do you see them often?

“No.” He wanted to explain he could reach out to them mentally anytime, but he held the words back. “One of my brothers is in Egypt, one in Paris, and the other is…” In utero. He cleared his throat again. “In San Diego.”

That’s too bad.
She glanced his way before writing again.
You’re not from Ireland then?

“Not originally.”

Her face brightened as she waved at someone he couldn’t see. Frowning, Colin turned to find Bartley approaching the table. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to you.” He looked at Colin as he spoke the words.

“Is something wrong at the farm?”

“The farm is fine.” His gaze tracked over to Juliana. “It’s the Bridled Pony I’m worried about.”

Colin tried to keep his expression blank, but only two words came to mind.

The aughisky.

Juliana shot out of her chair, pen in hand.
Is Muriel all right? What happened?

Bartley shrugged. “Maybe nothin’?” Worry was plain in his eyes, though. “I got there about five tonight an’ the only person in was old Darby sittin’ at the bar.”

Darby was a regular at her cousin’s pub. His wife had passed away last year after a long battle with cancer. He came to Muriel’s place for the company as much as the alcohol.

She flipped to a clean page on her notepad.
Muriel wouldn’t leave the Pony unattended.

Bartley nodded as Colin got to his feet, blocking her view of Bartley’s lips. She groaned and muscled her way between the two tall men.
Did she say anything to Darby?

Colin’s arm moved around her, his hand at the small of her back. “I will walk you home. Bartley and I will look for her.”

She stepped away from him, barely noticing the loss of physical contact. Barely.
She’s
my
cousin. I won’t sit at home and wait. Not for either of you.

Colin’s gaze locked on hers, and for just a moment, it was like a fog clouded her mind and all she wanted to do was strike out her refusal and go home like he’d suggested. She glanced down at her notepad, and her head cleared. What was that? Frowning, she rubbed her forehead, welcoming her Irish temper to come roaring forward.