The Angel's Hunger (Masters of Maria) Page 5

  Tarik slid his phone across.

  Tamatsu squinted at the little screen and tried to make sense of the order of information. The message was from Tito.

  Tell Tamatsu we got flight confirmation. She’s already in the air. Should be in town late tonight. Is the favor I owe him repaid, or is there something else I need to do?

  Tamatsu read the words once more before pressing the phone back to Tarik.

  And so she comes.

  The relief he should have felt at the prospect of finally regaining his voice couldn’t quite overcome the long-simmering resentment he harbored. He couldn’t be happy about being given a gift that should have never left his possession in the first place, especially when that gift had been stolen by someone who fell asleep at night to the sound of him speaking all his secrets.

  As he tucked the phone into one of his inner pockets, Tarik said, “You don’t seem pleased.”

  Tamatsu poked at the cake. Lemon, he guessed, with cream cheese frosting if his nose was picking up the right notes. He didn’t want the cake, but he still picked up his fork. If he didn’t top off the tank, he’d be enduring crippling starvation again in an hour.

  “You never told me the whole story of what happened between the two of you.”

  Tamatsu didn’t look up. He shrugged and scraped some of the sugary frosting off the top of the cake slice.

  He’d been in his old stomping grounds in Dewa Province, revisiting his old haunts from the time after he’d left the angelic host. She’d been on horseback, approaching the temple where he’d been resting and the animal had gotten spooked—likely by his energy.

  The horse had run off, bucking and rearing back, trying to throw her, but she’d gripped his neck so firmly that Tamatsu had figured her for a man, at first. Her clothing was masculine— trousers and an odd cloak, and with her blades strapped to her back. With her black hair loose and whipping against her pale face as her horse railed, she could have passed for local, but her clothes were foreign. She was not only not a man, but an outsider as well.

  He had no special abilities to soothe the horse, except to go away. He’d teleported himself half a field away, and she’d turned toward him, staring for a while before hitching the beast to a sturdy post.

  He’d stood still, waiting as she walked over, one hand fondling the hilt of her knife and her expression neutral. He hadn’t moved a muscle, not even when she stood in front of him and stared up at him through silver-blue eyes that were too iridescent to be human.

  Nothing about her had been quite human enough. Most humans wouldn’t have noticed the subtle pearlescence of her skin, though, or the way she turned toward even the smallest of sounds.

  Or the way hearts beat faster when she was near. She wasn’t just an elf. She was one born to raise hell.

  “Why are you here?” he’d asked, not that he had any room to query. He was a sort of outsider, too, but he at least looked like the locals. He’d been molded into their image to fit in, though much larger. At seven-and-a-half feet tall, he was a freak amongst them, but they didn’t know the full extent.

  She’d grinned then. Pink lips curved at one corner and a delicate eyebrow hooked upward. “I go where my heart leads me,” she’d said simply in her own tongue, and of course he’d known it. He knew them all without trying to.

  “Go back to your realm,” he’d said coolly. “You don’t belong here.”

  Her grin had flattened and her throat had convulsed with a swallow as she nudged her hair behind her rounded ears. “This is my place now.”

  The cake in his mouth might as well have been sawdust. He could hardly taste the flavoring.

  “What did she do to you?” Tarik asked. “Besides taking your voice, though that was certainly enough.”

  Tamatsu shook his head.

  She hadn’t done anything else, besides accusing him of doing something he hadn’t. She’d said he’d replaced her, and he hadn’t understood that. Yes, he’d had other lovers, but so had she.

  When his hungers surged, one of anything was rarely enough. His drives were insatiable, and she’d gone away. He’d had no choice, but she’d declared his act a betrayal. She’d snatched his voice, and demanded that he find her queen, knowing that such a search could take even a creature like him centuries.

  Well, he’d finally found her queen.

  If he were lucky, he could finally start to put the past behind him. Angels generally had impeccable memories, but some things simply didn’t pay to remember.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Well, I suppose I’ve slept in worse.” Noelle set her leather tote bag atop the dresser in the motel room and crinkled her nose. Something—the carpet or the shower drain—was putting off a bit of a funk, but the aroma should have been easy enough to push to the back of her mind.

  Eventually.

  Clutching the collar of her flirty pink jacket together at the throat, Jenny cringed into the room. “My, décor here’s a mite past its expiry, idnit?”

  Noelle crinkled her nose and tried to make sense of that jumble of words. “You’re gutter-ratting again, dear.”

  Jenny grimaced and rubbed the top of her right ear. Old habit. She used to fiddle the points when she was nervous, but her ears hadn’t had points in a thousand years.

  “Oi. Talked to Mum for a bit. Me—” She cringed again. “My accent always goes Cockney for a while after we’ve had a chat. I lived in the East End for so long, I can’t quite shake the inflections.” Giving the ceiling a speculative look, she stepped into the retro-styled room and pushed down the handle of her carryon suitcase.

  “I suppose I can’t blame you. You haven’t been in the US as long as I have.” And Noelle hadn’t wanted to stay at first. She’d wanted to strap on her bags and sail back to Ireland to continue her search for Cinnia. People had called Noelle disgusting things when she spoke. Her kind wasn’t wanted.

  She took a breath and rubbed down the prickling hairs at the back of her neck. The turn of the twentieth century wasn’t a great time for her to recollect. She’d been in transition. Lonely, and angry at everything. She hadn’t been the most patient of elves. Back then, she hadn’t given second chances to anyone.

  “Hopefully, we won’t be here beyond the night,” she said quietly. “If all goes according to plan, we could hop a plane to Vegas in the morning and move on with our lives.”

  Jenny looked skeptical, and perhaps rightfully so. Noelle was too thorough with her retributions. She wouldn’t leave Maria until she was sure she’d gotten things right—until she was certain the angel was suffering.

  “Want me to call him?” Jenny asked. “Mr. Perez, I mean.” She pushed up one pale eyebrow in a manner that was probably meant to be querying, but always made her resemble a cartoon. She was cute as a pixie with her soft cheeks and her sweet dimples, and utterly harmless.

  Like Noelle, she’d worked very closely with the elf queen, but in an entirely different capacity. Jenny had been a dressmaker. Her skills as a seamstress were easily enough adapted for use in the human world. However, being able to make money wasn’t her only concern upon leaving the Otherworld. She needed to be able to protect herself, and had been doing a dismal job for several centuries after they’d parted.

  Noelle hadn’t been able to bear to leave her on her own for any longer and had convinced Jenny’s mother to let her see to her safety. Jenny was far too naïve for her own good.

  Noelle let out a breath and let her hand fall from her neck. “Yes, you may as well call him. Let’s get the stream of shit flowing and past us. If you ever find yourself in a relationship with a fallen angel—and I hope you never do—you’ll start to think that you’re wading through shit nonstop. Perhaps you’ll like the mess while you’re in it, because though the miasma makes you suffer, they’re so lovely to look at.”

  “Huh.” Jenny furrowed her brow and dialed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one.”

  “Not surprising, and you would certainly know if you had. Tamatsu was my firs
t one, but I knew instantly what he was.”

  Species-wise, if not character-wise. She’d needed a bit longer to discern that he was an unfaithful reprobate.

  “Oh! Mr. Perez?” With her phone to her ear, Jenny’s eyebrows dropped from their stratospheric arcs and she smiled. “Sorry. Tito, of course. We’re in Maria now, and all checked into the motel.” She cut her cornflower blue gaze over to Noelle and said, slowly, “Uh-huh.”

  “Uh-huh what?” Noelle asked.

  “No, no, that’s fine,” Jenny said sweetly into the phone. “Could you give me directions, please? The GPS in my phone wasn’t working nicely earlier.” She uncapped a pen with her teeth and scribbled on the notepad atop the rickety desk.

  Noelle tapped her foot impatiently, but Jenny continued to ignore her.

  “And what time should we be there?”

  “Be there?” Noelle glanced at the clock. They’d landed at seven, and they’d taken three hours to acquire a rental car and navigate to the small town. Once they’d gotten to Maria, they’d had to drive up every street until they found the motel. The mapping software was giving them the runaround and sending them in circles. It was nearly eleven.

  “That doesn’t seem to be too far from here,” Jenny said. “I remember passing some of those streets when we were driving to the motel. Will you be there?” She gnawed briefly on the end of the pen, and Noelle nudged it out of her mouth, whispering, “Germs, Jenny.”

  Jenny shuddered and squinted at the now-deformed thing. “Oh, well, that’s a pity. Thank you all the same, Mr. Perez. We’ll call if we need any assistance.” She set down her cell phone and looked at Noelle. “He’s actually at work right now. A sheriff’s deputy, of all possible things. I didn’t know any supernaturals worked in an official law enforcement capacity.”

  “Me neither.”

  “Anyhow, Tito won’t be there, but his wife will be.”

  “Where is there?”

  “His mother’s house. She lives nearby. She’s a …” Jenny rubbed her ear again. “She’s a goddess, it seems. Some sort of Cougar goddess from Mexico.”

  “Ah. No wonder I couldn’t peg him. Every demigod hits my radar differently. Don’t worry.” Noelle made a dismissive flick of her hand. “He’s harmless compared to most.”

  Jenny grimaced. “I … guess I’ll take your word for it, Noe.”

  “Best that you do.” Noelle grabbed her tote and her train case, and hurried toward the grungy bathroom. “I’m going to hop into the shower and wash the airplane grime off. I’ll be out in a jiff.”

  “A jiff my fat arse,” Jenny said in an undertone as Noelle closed the bathroom door.

  She wasn’t as high-maintenance as Jenny made out, and even if she were, she had few other vices. Obsessing over lipsticks and shoes was far healthier than her old habit of collecting sharp, pointed things, and probably somewhat more legal, depending on her state of residence.

  When she finally emerged from the bathroom, Jenny had changed out of her skirt suit into slacks and a turquoise sweater that made the color of her eyes pop. She always looked fresh as a daisy with little effort.

  “Let’s go,” Noelle said. “I’ll drive, you navigate.”

  Jenny cocked her eyebrows again. “Are you sure?”

  “What are you implying?”

  “Nothing, just that …” She cringed. “When you’re anxious, you aren’t as good at … you know. Steering and stopping and stuff.”

  “Who said I was anxious?” Noelle cracked her knuckles.

  Jenny blinked.

  “Don’t you dare blink at me.” Noelle tossed her the car keys and grabbed her purse.

  “I’m looking out for you, is all.”

  “That’s usually my line.”

  “Well, it’s about time I did something for you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Outside on the walkway, Noelle shoved the room key into the lock. “You’re indispensable. You do things for me every day.”

  “Oh, that’s business stuff, though. I mean personal things. Who knows where me and Mum might have ended up if not for you.” Jenny pushed the unlock button on the key fob, and the sedan’s lights flashed.

  Noelle got in. “You would have been fine eventually, I’m sure. All I did was made things a little easier for you.”

  “You gave Mum a lot of money.”

  “So what? My family’s all dead, so I had cash to spare, and besides, Cinnia would have done the same.”

  “She would’ve, but knowing that doesn’t make me feel less like a leech.”

  Noelle suspected that no matter what she said, Jenny wouldn’t change her mind. She figured she should save her energy for the main event she was trying not to think about. And as long as she didn’t think about it—or him—she didn’t hyperventilate.

  Jenny handed her the paper with the directions, and Noelle read them off as they crawled slowly through the moonlit streets. Unlike Vegas, Maria was a quiet little town. It reminded Noelle of the tiny Irish hamlet that she kept a cottage in and retreated to every few winters. People left her alone there, and mankind fared better if she were far away from them at certain times.

  “I believe we’re going to that house there.” Noelle pointed to a massive two-story dwelling that had to be a hundred years old, if it were a day. The lot was huge, and gated. Her real estate agent brain kicked into high gear, pondering comps and resale value. The commission on such a property could probably cover the rent on Jenny’s mother’s posh flat for six months.

  Jenny parked at the curb, killed the lights, and slowly pulled the key. “Do you want me to go to the door first and scope things out, or—”

  “Not necessary,” Noelle interjected, “but thank you for being concerned. I’ll be fine.” Noelle got out before she could tell herself she was a liar, and closed the door.

  Hitching her tote’s strap up to her shoulder, she raised her chin proudly. She ran her tongue across her teeth for any traces of lipstick, and then stepped onto the curb. She walked assertively, not letting herself slow as she pushed the gate open and then strode up the walkway.

  The porch light was on, as was the light on the other side of the glass door.

  She pounded up the stairs with Jenny at her heels and teeth clenched tight as a vise.

  She knocked and turned her back to the door so she could check her expression. “How does my face look?” she whispered to Jenny.

  “Perfect as always.”

  Noelle turned her face a bit to the left and then to the right. “See any signs of weakness? Any softness?”

  Jenny giggled. “Nope. I wouldn’t mess with ya if I were them.”

  “Okay. Good.”

  December pulled the door inward and gestured for them to enter. “Sorry to ask you to keep your voices down. We live here with Lola while Tito and I try to find a bigger house, and our daughter goes to bed at nine.”

  “Understood. After all, I was a child once.” Though Noelle could barely remember being allowed to behave like one. She’d been swinging a sword with precision since soon after she’d been able to pick one up.

  She moved across the threshold, careful to keep the heels of her pumps from clacking against the hardwood floor.

  “Cruz’s room is right there.” December pointed directly upward. “So we’ll go out to the deck.”

  Noelle nodded and crooked a thumb toward Jenny. “Jenny is my assistant. She’s here to keep me out of trouble.”

  Jenny sighed. “Oh, Noe.”

  December chuckled quietly. “Hey. We all need one of those people. I’m not sure if Tito keeps me out of trouble or gets me into some, but he’s my partner in crime, either way. Come on. Grab a drink in the kitchen as we pass through if you want something.”

  They started walking.

  “Probably best for all if I’m not holding anything fragile,” Noelle said.

  “Do you think this will go badly?” December asked. “I don’t know the whole story of what’s going on, but clashes seem to be par f
or the course around here. Maria is rife with all sorts of mate drama.”

  “Really? How’s that?”

  December scoffed as she paused in front of a lemonade pitcher on the counter.

  Jenny helped herself to a glass.

  Noelle abstained. She didn’t trust herself to hold a cup.

  “I wish I could say it’s something in the water,” December said, “but for all I know, stuff like this happens everywhere.”

  “Elves are renowned for their messy relationships.” Jenny sipped and cut Noelle a skeptical look.

  “Why is that?” December asked.

  “I’m not entirely sure. Might be cultural. Maybe we’re grown accustomed to the dysfunction and simply don’t know how to say no anymore.”

  Noelle didn’t bother rebutting because of that whole “The lady doth protest too much” thing. She didn’t want to be dysfunctional—she didn’t think anyone did—but she refused to believe she was responsible for all of the messiness in her life. There were plenty of other people complicit in her becoming the wretch she was.

  “Come on out,” December said. “You can meet my mother-in-law.”

  “Oh, dear,” Jenny said, taking a deep breath. “I don’t meet goddesses every day.”

  “Where’s she sitting?” Noelle asked as they walked through the sunroom and approached the deck door. She was averting her gaze downward.

  “To the left as we enter,” December said.

  “Where’s Tamatsu?”

  “Far right. Why?”

  “Because if I look at him, I’ll want to kill him.”

  “You’re exaggerating, right?”

  “She’s not,” Jenny murmured. “Elf thing. Killing them is sometimes the only way to sever an attachment to a bad mate.”

  December’s mouth flapped open in the telltale way of the mortally stunned.

  “I’ll steer you away,” Jenny said. “I won’t let you forget why you came here.”

  “I wish someone would tell me why,” December said as she pushed the door outward.

  Jenny hurried between the two of them and nudged Noelle toward the small woman seated on the cushioned bench to the left. December put her hand to the back of Noelle’s neck, effectively preventing her from turning her head the other way.