Whatever her father said caused her to roll her eyes, but she responded as expected. “Okay, Dad, I’ll be over a little later. I have a few things to do first, so you’ll have to survive a little while without me.” A beat of time. “I’m always cute, and no, I’m not changing into a skirt.” A few more moments of her father speaking, then with exasperation on her features, she said, “Love you Dad, buh-bye.”
She hung up the phone, a long sigh escaping. She stood up and stretched her arms, the movement lifting the sweater so the silky skin of her stomach was visible and the material bunched in such a way that it showed a generous expanse of breast.
He ran his palm over his mouth, the bite of fang on flesh hard enough to draw a thin line of blood.
She lowered her arms and leaned on the railing, her gaze coming to meet his.
Discomposure thrilled through him, alighting down his spine. Could she see him? Time hung for a moment, his puff of visible breath going still in the air as though it too waited for the answer.
She gave a final sigh and entered her apartment to get ready for her journey.
Relief and an odd disappointment skittered through his mind before sense reasserted itself. Of course she could not see him. No one as unobservant as she could ever hope to glimpse one of his kind.
The odd ache in his chest was back. The ache that started the night he realized he had only one more week with her, and it was time to get back to his life, his responsibilities, his Clan. Three months he had sworn to watch over her, and now he was free to never again take up this sentry, never again place her safety before his Clan, never again look upon her face.
Never see her again…
She finished her preparations and left her apartment.
He would now need to follow her to her father’s house. It was harder to hide there, more chance of discovery, but there was no choice. She would not be allowed to leave his protection as long as he watched, not even to exchange it for the protection of her family. They were human guardians, yes, but he trusted her to no one else.
He watched the front entrance for her exit. It took only moments before she emerged from the building and went toward the side street where her car waited for her.
The wind changed. With the shift the smell assailed him. Decomposition, death, rotting flesh and decay.
Zombies.
Larissa…
This hard pit in his stomach, this weakness in his limbs, this ice in his veins that threatened to stop his heart – this was unknown. Never, not even as a fledgling warrior, had he been so powerless.
Rage, though, rage was a familiar companion, and the rage he welcomed, let it engulf these other sensations and bury them deep. A white and blinding wave overwhelmed all in its path and directed itself at those that would hurt what was his to protect.
They dare come after her?
They dare?
A bellow clawed its way from his throat. He ran the length of the roof and with a snap of his wings, he plummeted toward his enemies.
*
Her brothers were going to kill her. No way around it, she was a marked woman.
Subtle Dad wasn’t. Sad thing was, her father wasn’t the hairiest matchmaker she had ever seen. That honor belonged to her third-grade teacher, Mrs. Donovan, who had tried to match up every single father in her class with her unmarried daughter. Even her widowed father hadn’t been able to escape the madness.
But Dad could scheme with the best of them. Would he really force all her brothers to work the despised Friday night shift so he could set up his daughter on a blind date?
Why yes, yes he would.
Larissa gave a loud exhale as she left the safety of her building and marched forth to yet another set-up. The coffee shop across the street was still open and Larissa faltered, a hot chocolate calling her name. No, better not. If she didn’t hurry, her brothers would come to carry her bodily to wherever this Nick was, not unlike the traditional virgin sacrifice.
They really hated working the Friday night shifts.
Not that she wanted to go. It had been tough to leave the little haven of her apartment tonight. The night was crystal clear with a moon so bright and big she might have had a chance of touching it. The air was crisp and fragrant with the scent of the dampened oak leaves carpeting all the once-green, grassy areas.
And there was the presence of her phantom companion. It had to be her family’s paranoia about her living alone catching up to her, but these last couple months she had been living with a constant presence. Maybe if the feeling scared her she would be more wary, but she was comfortable with this companion. It was protective in its watchfulness, a dark energy against those who would hurt her while it wrapped her in safety. She felt safer these last months than she had even when she had lived at home.