Until Next Time The Angel Chronicles Book 1 (6 page)

CHAPTER SIX

Liz woke to an odd mixture of gentle purring and the distant rumbling of thunder. The strange numbness began to leave her body, as her eyes slowly opened to witness a black and white cat staring up at her.

Smiling wide, she put her hand out to the animal sitting comfortably in her lap. A rush of oxygen flooded her lungs, as the painful headache finally disappeared.

The cat’s small, pink tongue felt like sandpaper against her fingers, and Liz giggled. “Well, now. How did you get in here?” The cat answered with an intelligent purr. “You must be hungry.”

Slowly getting up from the rocking chair, Liz steadied herself for a moment. Waiting for the tingling in her legs to cease, Liz stared down at the mysterious kitten before scanning her flesh for any bruises that might have appeared during her lost hours. “Well kitty—looks like it wasn’t too bad this time. I guess everything’s right with the world.” Liz sighed as the lovely image of a green field with daffodils faded from her mind. “I guess the good Lord gave me a break tonight.”

The fur ball offered a meow, and Liz laughed. “Oh, maybe it wasn’t Him—maybe
you
deserve the credit, huh?” The small knowing eyes looked back at her and she could swear, for just a moment, that the cat had actually smiled.

Walking slowly to the bar, she stopped to search the mirror on the wall for any signs of wounds or bruising to her face. People would certainly think this was strange, but Liz had gotten to the point where this was a natural morning occurrence for her. In fact, she’d grown used to the sight of her own blood.

Even Faith had gotten used to her unexplained injuries. She’d wake up in the middle of the night to see Liz’s skin transformed into a canvas of bruised flesh. She had stopped questioning Liz, preferring to sweep her friend’s supernatural batterings under the rug.

After one such incident, Liz was up in the loft and overheard Daniel tell Faith the story of how he’d met Liz on a rainy night. Later that evening, Faith told her that she’d come to the conclusion that Liz was some kind of fairy who entered another realm at night to kill dragons, roast demons and save kingdoms from destruction. And Faith was absolutely fine with that.

For eons, the Irish people had thought up mystical tales for what Liz had no explanation for. She knew that the angels were most likely punishing her by sending her into other people’s nightmares, but she definitely liked Faith’s explanation a whole lot better. Loosening the super tight ribbon, Liz let her thick mass of curls tumble over the kitten’s head like an auburn veil. In the kitchen, she took two small wooden bowls off the shelf and placed a few bits of cured beef into one, filling the other with milk.

Placing the kitten on the floor, she watched it devour the food as if there was a lion’s stomach that needed to be filled trapped inside the small feline body. “Slow down,” Liz laughed. “You don’t want it coming back up on ya.”

Once again a rumble of thunder shook the cabin and sent the cat scrambling under a wooden cupboard. Liz giggled. “It’s okay,” she spoke softly. “It’s just a storm.”

After trying to coax the small, scared creature from its hiding place, Liz backed away to glance out the window. Her sudden scream sent the cat once again racing for cover.

A flash of lightning illuminated the face of a man staring back through the glass. Trying to collect herself and slow her beating heart, Liz shouted at the stranger, “We’re closed!”

As the figure withdrew from the window, Liz heard a loud knock then muffled conversation behind the door. However, the incessant thunder made it impossible to decipher what was being said.

Her heart was beating faster than the raindrops slamming against the cabin, but she slowly inched closer to the door.

“Please,” a voice begged. “We’re lost. I’m
begging
you, miss. Please let us in until the storm dies down.”

Liz let out another scream as she was suddenly tugged backward.

“Are you crazy?” Faith snarled.

Liz grasped her heart. “Saint Mary! You scared me!”

“Do not open that door!”

Liz’s fear was quickly turning to anger. “Faith, you can’t refuse a person in need.”

“I can,” she shouted. “Believe me, Liz, I know better than you about the temptations of a man. Not to mention, if we do cry for help, no one will ever hear us screaming in this storm.”

“Please, miss. I beg you,” the voice yelled from outside.

Liz swatted Faith’s shoulder. “I can’t refuse. You know that.”

“I’ll remember to carve that on your headstone when you’re left for dead.”

“You’re terrible. Maybe you should try living up to your name,” Liz said as she weighed the decision in her head before opening the door.

The wind raged as Liz struggled to close the door. Suddenly, a second man appeared entering the cabin on the heels of his companion.

The men turned and threw their bodies against the door, closing out the howling wind. With a quick move, the taller figure stood up straight spraying Faith with water. The smaller man stayed hunched over, desperately trying to dry himself with a soaked handkerchief.

As Faith began to yell at the men, Liz stood back and studied them. The larger one was young, no more than nineteen. His face was angular and strong, like a chiseled statue that an artist had worked on for years. His hair was long in the back, short in the front, and light brown in color. His eyes were as green as emeralds. He was smiling as Faith berated him for dampening her warm clothes. His sparkling white teeth were practically blinding.

Turning away slightly from Faith’s scolding, he bowed at the waist before offering Liz a kindly greeting. “Miss, I don’t know how to thank you for opening that door, but I promise you won’t regret it. We are not looking for trouble.”

His eyes moved back to Faith who was now standing by the bar, holding a broom in her clenched fist. “Although I think we may have found some.”

“Very funny,” Faith snarled. She looked like a warrior, ready to spring into action at the slightest sign of danger.

He bowed to Faith as well. “I assure you, we are not bringing trouble with us, either.” His eyes lit up as he offered her a wink. “We’re apparently just the luckiest men on God’s green earth.”

Faith stood perfectly still. “Sir, we have a fire. We have cheese, bread, water—but nothing else,” she said firmly establishing the boundaries of their hospitality.

The stranger stepped forward; a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “That sounds like a deal. We appreciate it.”

Liz nodded at Faith. “Food, I think.”

With a disgusted look, Faith set down the broom and rolled her eyes before marching into the kitchen.

“And, this is?” Liz asked, turning to the other man. “Are you his servant?”

Rich, deep laughter filled the cabin. “I can be anything you want, if I may also get some food and drink.”

Liz smiled at him. Her heart felt lighter as she listened to the charming tone of the young man’s voice. “
Are
you his servant, then?”

“Might as well be, considering I do all the work.”

Faith entered the room with a tray of food. “Work, you say? Well, we have quite a bit of work that needs doing around here, boy…if you need a job.”

Liz laughed. “You’re not a very nice hostess, Faith. These are our guests.”

“Paying guests?”

The taller man raised his glass in the air. “We’ll definitely pay. Of course, if I travel much further without the company of a beautiful girl like you, I think I’ll be paying a much heavier price.”

Faith rolled her eyes at his ridiculous declaration. “Don’t be silly, I think you and your friend make a lovely couple. Sit. Dry off. I’ll make plates up for you in the kitchen.”

“Let me help.”

Faith raised her eyebrows. “I must know the name of the man who wants to help a
woman
fetch a meal, because this is surely a first.”

“Charles Faire,” he replied. “My servant over there goes by the name of Jason.”

“Welcome, Charlie,” Faith said as she smirked while pointing to the kitchen. “After you.”

“No, I insist…wisdom before beauty,” he said with an impish grin.

Faith remained silent, and Liz shook her head in disbelief. She never thought it would happen. For the first time ever, her quick-witted friend had no stinging retort.

Jason headed toward her rocking chair by the fire. “May I?”

“Please,” Liz replied, stifling another giggle. “Sorry, I can’t believe that I’ve lived long enough to meet a male who is as full of himself as my friend is.”

“Funny to you,” he said. “But I have to listen to his over-indulged ego every minute of the day. I knew this would be a perfect place for him to stop the second I saw it through the storm. The fire was being reflected in the mirrors on your walls, and Charles likes nothing better than to admire himself from every direction.”

“Faith put those up so she could make sure that she looked good from every possible angle.”

Jason joined in with her laughter. “I’m surprised Charles hasn’t strapped one to the back of his horse’s head. He has them in all his carriages.”

“Carriages?” Liz remarked as she gave him the drink he’d requested. “Your family must be very wealthy.”

“Long story,” he replied, taking the mug from her hand.

As his fingers brushed hers, a shiver ran down Liz’s spine. An unexpected heat suddenly raced through her body making her legs feel like jelly. Quickly, she sat down beside the fireplace and took a deep breath, trying to calm her rapid heartbeat. “Well…I love a good story.”

He brought the hot tea to his full, red lips and took a sip. Watching his long fingers wrap around the mug, Liz’s stomach started to flutter.

She tried not to study him, but it was difficult. His hands were large, yet graceful, like the hands of a musician. The color in his cheeks was a deep warm red, accenting his tanned skin perfectly. And the layers of dark, thick hair that framed his symmetrical features made him look like a portrait created by a master’s hand. Heat invaded her skin when his soft, brown eyes caught her gaze.

As her body began to tremble, Liz looked away and stared at the kitten now stretched out on her lap.

Jason pushed himself back against the chair, and gazed up at the ceiling. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. His deep voice cracked when he spoke, “I have no money, so my story will have to serve as payment for your kindness…if that’s acceptable.”

“Of course,” Liz whispered. Her curiosity was aroused at the thought of hearing a new story from a beguiling stranger.

“We come from Dublin,” Jason began. “We were raised in the city in a wealthy home. But don’t get the wrong idea, the stock Charles comes from…well, they don’t deserve the riches they have. Crafty—sometimes, illegal means—were used to fund their extravagant lifestyle.”

Liz watched him carefully, noticing that his perfect hands twitched, and the muscles underneath his white shirt tightened as he spoke. His rigid posture looked like he was suddenly being tormented by Satan himself.

His dark eyes sparkled in the firelight. “We decided to fight back.”

“Fight who?” Liz asked.

Jason smiled. “Anyone. Everyone. We were sick of that life, so we decided to get out.”

“And go where?” Liz’s eyes grew wide with excitement.

He shrugged. “Anywhere. Everywhere. Doesn’t really matter as long as it’s a place where they can’t find us.”

Liz shook her head. “You’re very mysterious. It seems to me that perhaps the rich are just spoiled, and choose to rebel against their own kind out of sheer boredom.”

Jason’s eyes turned as black as her own. “For all you’ve done tonight, I thank you. But you should never talk about things you don’t understand. It was a horrible place…and money be damned. We live with nothing now and life has never been better.”

“I’m sorry,” Liz replied, not flinching in the least at his lecturing tone. “Maybe I’m wrong.” Her heart raced as she took in his flashing eyes and the defiant set of his chin. She didn’t want to upset him further. “Where will you go when you leave here? You must have big dreams that you would willingly walk away from so much.”

The young man struggled to regain his composure as his face turned red with embarrassment. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so severe with you. There’s no excuse for my rudeness.”