Page 5 of Sleeping Redemption
Sitting up in my seat, I nudged my empty coffee cup away from me. “Sorry, I just realized that there’s a lot more to this than I thought.”
Kinley packed up her tablet. “That’s why you have me.” She pulled a pen from her purse and scribbled on a piece of paper. “Here’s my address. Don’t be late tonight.”
After she shoved the paper across the table, I gently grabbed onto her hand before she was able to withdraw it. “Kinley.” My heart stammered away inside my chest as our gazes locked.
“Yes?” Her eyes were full of loneliness and even deeper emptiness as she stared straight through me. Eyes were supposed to be windows to the soul, and hers was MIA.
Just fucking tell her, you idiot! Make her see you.
I squeezed her hand tightly. I didn’t want to let her go. “I… I appreciate you being willing to help me out.”
Her resistance to my touch made her tug away from me, and it wasn't until she used her unholy strength that I let her slip from my grasp.
“It’s what I do.” Kinley forced a smile. “See you at seven sharp.”
She stood from her seat, leaving me at the table. However, before she left through the door of the cafe, she took one quick look back at me. One that told me I had at least made some sort of impression on her, for better or for worse.
Chapter Three
From the second I left the quaint coffee shop, I was in a foul fucking mood. What the hell had happened back there? I must have missed something, but what was it? I never overlooked even the smallest of details.
Fuck! I forgot my damn coffee.
Welp, I wasn’t turning around and going back. If I ran into him again that quickly, my ability to come off as a normal human would be totally lost. The idea of throwing him across the cafe until he confessed to whatever secrets he was hiding was already too tempting.
Humans didn’t just ignore my persuasions, yet this asshole had brushed it off like a speck of dust. Oh, I couldn’t wait to see if that abomination bled buckets like every other human. I would find out, after he paid and/or fucked me, of course.
My tech business, Systems Infotech Networking, was an easy way to get information on all the little bad girls and boys out there. Not to mention it paid the bills for my very high-maintenance lifestyle. Look, I had an image to uphold as Lucifer’s right-hand angel. SIN provided me with luxuriousliving arrangements at the expense of humans who had their free will manipulated at my command. Except for this fucking Alex individual.
I stomped my way back to my black Maserati, got in, and carelessly tossed my purse into the red leather passenger seat. The temptation was strong to simply plow down any pedestrian who looked remotely in need of a one-way ticket to Hell. The woman I had passed on the sidewalk moments ago looked suspiciously sinful with her floral-patterned socks. I prayed it was her who got in my way.
Fifteen minutes later, I arrived back at my house, pulled into the garage and killed the engine after the paneled door lowered behind my vehicle.
Alex was still at the forefront of my mind, leaving me wondering what could have rendered my powers useless against him. Everything about him had me on edge, especially the way he kept staring at me. You would have thought he was a lovesick puppy looking for a home.
Trapped in my thoughts, I got out of the car, preparing to go inside and pour myself a giant glass of wine, but something caught my eye. The access door of the garage that led out onto the side of my property hung open ever so slightly.
Walking over there, I inspected the door and wondered if the maintenance guy or cleaning crew had inadvertently left it open. If so, I was sure they were guilty of some other infraction I could make them pay for. Two tickets to Hell, please.
After pushing the door shut, I turned on my heel, and my heart nearly leapt from my chest as a towering body suddenly stood before me. My clenched fist swung on first instinct, but a long black cane crashed into it. The impact was a little aggressive to be fully defensive as it collided against the inside of my wrist.
Immediately, I recoiled my hand and held it to my chest while my fingers rubbed the intense throbbing of my wrist.“Ow! Son of a fucking Leviathan!” I shrieked as the pain lanced through me.
Looking up to see my assailant, a familiar face greeted me with a mercurial smile.
I gave a low growl of annoyance; Rook was going to be adding to my already shitty mood if I had to guess. His typical roguish look and a glimmer of mischief in his hazel eyes was unsettling.
“My, my, such a mouth you have, love.” The light hint of a British accent tainted his words.
His cane came to settle in front of him with both hands resting on top of it, his fingers curled over the top of its silver knob putting his decorated digits with several silver rings and black nail polish on display. The fucker only carried the damn thing around because he felt it added a special flair to his appearance. I thought it was fucking stupid. Nearly as stupid as his busted-ass maroon jacket that looked like it had been through a warzone. At least the fitted black tee and black jeans he wore resembled somewhat normal attire.
Everything he did had to carry a tinge of dramatics like he was some ringmaster of a demonic circus. I suppose that’s part of what made him a trickster demon. He derived pleasure from games he played, games that even I found tiresome. Introducing anarchy was his favorite pastime.
With a blistering glare that could turn Antarctica into Pompeii, I gave one final rub of my wrist. “I’m not in the mood for you,” I warned.
Rook stood there looking smug as shit. He was like a mixture of a carnival freak turned punk rocker in one package, and hell if it didn’t work for him.
Haphazardly styled shaggy black hair gave the appearance he put no effort into it. He sported a few piercings from the neck up, including a couple in his ears, his eyebrow, and a small hoop in his nose. I had heard that the piercings didn’t stop there, but Ididn’t know to what extent. I certainly didn’t ask questions that would turn into a game of show and tell.
