New York Page 4

  He agreed with what Samantha said, but it didn’t lessen his irritation at Mika’il withholding information that would make Christian’s life easier. Of course, being annoyed didn’t mean Mika’il would change his ways. So many times when the archangel had ordered him to do something, Christian had a feeling there was another reason besides the obvious one behind it.

  Mika’il had another agenda that he was working along with trying to keep the unrepentants from hurting mortals, but Christian hadn’t been able to figure out what it was yet.

  “I’ll head out and start asking around, plus I’ll pass the word along to the others about keeping an eye out.” Samantha stood then bowed to Christian. “I’ll get back to you in a few days. Sooner if I find anything out.”

  “Good. And I’ll let you know if I find anything worth noting. I’m going to start looking through the warehouses and places where they might meet up without being noticed.”

  “If you feel the need for backup, contact me, sir.”

  “I will.”

  He watched the Enforcer stroll from the café, but his mind wasn’t on her. For some reason it had gone back to Joan, and his body’s reaction to the mortal. Having focused so much of his energy on staying sane, he hadn’t been interested in sex or a relationship with someone.

  Well, not that he’d ever been interested in a relationship. Falling in love wasn’t possible for an Enforcer, or so he’d thought until Chicago and meeting all those couples. While he hadn’t been thrilled to be there, he had found it interesting to see them together, and know that at least for those four couples, love worked.

  What would it be like to come home every night to Joan? Knowing the brunette beauty was waiting for him? What would it feel like to press his lips to hers, and taste her skin?

  Obnoxiously loud laughter shook him out of his contemplation, and Christian finished his coffee before he left. He couldn’t keep thinking about Joan, especially since he wasn’t ever going to see her again.

  He strolled out of the coffee house then paused as he thought about where to go look first. At the moment, he wasn’t getting any concentrated grouping of tainted power from the unrepentants. There were hundreds of the fallen throughout the city, but he ignored them as long as they weren’t bothering mortals.

  Had they found out he was searching for them and hidden away? Or had that gathering just been a rare situation and they weren’t ever going to do it again?

  Christian couldn’t help but hope it was just a one-time thing, and it wasn’t a new plot by Lucifer to get more power or consolidate what he had. He couldn’t very well contact Daystar and ask him. Christian couldn’t trust any answer Lucifer would give him.

  Sighing, he decided to return to the warehouse he’d been going to look at when he’d met Joan. It was the one place where he knew for sure the unrepentants had been together. He’d meant to go back sooner, but had gotten sidetracked with his mortal businesses. Maybe he could find someone, other than Joan, who could give him some more information about them.

  “If you don’t, you will have to go talk to this Joan woman again.” Mika’il’s voice entered his mind, and Christian frowned.

  “I’m sure I won’t need to talk to her again.” He didn’t want to because of his attraction to Joan—it was too raw and visceral for him to be comfortable around her.

  “Why don’t you want to talk to her? I’ve never known you to be afraid of a woman before.” There was a hint of teasing in Mika’il’s voice.

  “I’m not afraid of her,” Christian protested. “I just don’t see why I need to involve her in this. We know that if Lucifer is part of this, he’ll find some way to reel her in.”

  “Pure souls are the most attractive to Daystar, but we can’t protect her from him. Especially if she has information we need to keep millions safe. Unfortunately, the life of one can be sacrificed for the lives of many.”

  Christian hated the fact that Mika’il was right. He understood, but it didn’t mean he liked the idea of throwing Joan to the lions, or Lucifer, who could be worse than any predator.

  “I know,” he agreed. “I’ll see what I can find, and see what Samantha discovers, but if I must, I’ll go and talk to Joan.”

  “Good.”

  He felt an emptiness in his brain when Mika’il left. After that, Christian thought about the warehouse he’d been at, and in a surge of power, he dematerialized from the street.

  When he next appeared, he was standing in front of the abandoned warehouse he’d been going to the other night. Christian looked around as he stretched, testing the level of his power he had left.

  When Christian was younger, he’d had to have sex with women to replenish his power, but as he’d gotten older, he’d realized all he needed to do was meditate, and it would build back up. He heard footsteps approaching from the alleyway.

  “You’re back.”

  He whirled around to see Joan standing there. Shit! After all that talk about avoiding her and never seeing her again, there she stood. He took a deep breath and his groin tightened when her fresh scent hit his nose.

  “I didn’t get a chance to look over the property,” he said, shifting to try to find a little more room in his jeans.

  Joan smiled. “Are you sure you’re not here to try and find Mindy again?”

  Christian frowned as he tried to place the name. “Mindy? Who is that?”

  “The prostitute you were talking when we showed up the other night,” Joan reminded him.

  “Oh.” He shook his head. “I don’t remember her. I really am here to look at the building. I’m not interested in whores.”

  Joan opened her mouth, and he figured she was going to protest about him calling Mindy a whore. He held up his hand to stop her.

  “I’m not going to argue semantics with you. Whore and prostitute are just words, and it really doesn’t change what she does for a living.” He shrugged. “I don’t care one way or the other what she does to make money, though I don’t think selling her body here on these corners will help her pay her rent.”

  Her abrupt laugh surprised him, and Christian met her hazel eyes, seeing amusement there. He raised his eyebrows in question.

  “Any money she makes goes to her pimp, and she shares a room with three other ladies. Do you truly think she should move up in the world, and find a corner that will make her more money? Her pimp tells her where to go.” Joan wrapped her arms around her waist as she glanced around.

  “There isn’t anyone else besides us here. You don’t have to worry about being seen talking to me. If that was what you were worried about,” he qualified.

  She shook her head. “I’m not worried about being seen talking to you. Hell, I’m not a working girl. I just hate being around here, especially lately.”

  “What are you talking about?” He eased some of his power out to the space around them, testing the atmosphere.

  Joan inched closer to him, and Christian fought the urge to embrace her. He had to stay away from her. It was bad enough he was going to have to bring her into the investigation, but if Lucifer somehow found out he was attracted to Joan, it would give the fallen angel more leverage.

  “I don’t know. I mean, this isn’t the happiest area anyway, and in the last week or two, it’s got quite depressing. I really hate coming here now, but I can’t leave the girls without condoms and the homeless without supplies. It’s not right.” Joan rubbed her hands up and down her arms.

  Christian rolled his eyes. “I’m sure they wouldn’t miss what they don’t have. Living on the streets teaches you to do with very little. You could be spoiling them by giving them all those things.”

  “What the hell do you know about living on the streets? You’re worth millions of dollars, and I bet you’ve never slept in anything less than a five star hotel.” She motioned toward the alley. “It’s bad enough to be out in the weather during the summer. During the winter, it’s so cold that people can die from it.”

  He bit his tongue to keep from tel
ling her that he had spent many years without shelter, dealing with the freezing cold before the world got civilized. She wouldn’t believe him, and he couldn’t blame her, or anyone else.

  The belief in angels might be easy for mortals, but to actually see a fallen one in front of them made it difficult. Most would think he was crazy.

  “I have dealt with the homeless before, and not just by donating to shelters and foundations to help them.” Christian turned to move toward the warehouse. “I don’t live in an ivory tower, no matter what others think.”

  Her muffled laugh drew his attention, and he glanced back at her. “What’s so funny?”

  “One of my friends said he was shocked you came down from your ivory tower to see how the ordinary people live.” She shook her head. “It just struck me funny that you both said the same thing.”

  “Your friend has been reading too many gossip rags,” he muttered, annoyed that someone who didn’t know him was talking about him like he was completely out of touch with mortals around him.

  “Maybe, but he said he’d done some business with you, and trust me, Lucian is much like you, so it’s a lot like the pot calling the kettle black.”

  Footsteps coming up behind him warned him that Joan had followed as he headed for the building. He paused, waiting for her to catch up. When she came up beside him, he glanced at her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m not staying out here by myself. You’re right. There’s no one around except for us, and knowing that makes my creeped out feeling even worse.” She shuddered.

  “Then go home. It’s not safe to be wandering around abandoned buildings late at night without any light and no way of knowing whether there are junkies hiding in the shadows.” He pushed open one of the barely hanging doors, wincing at the screeching sound the hinges made.

  “How are you going to protect yourself if someone attacks you? Two are better than one, don’t you think?” She fisted her hand in his shirt, and Christian inhaled at her touch.

  He hesitated just inside like he was letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, even though he didn’t need to do that. His power was such that even if he couldn’t see with his eyes, he was able to sense if there were others in the warehouse with them.

  The place seemed to be deserted, so he figured it wouldn’t be too dangerous for Joan to accompany him. Christian wasn’t willing to admit he wanted to keep her close simply because he loved the way she smelled. Rolling his eyes, he gave himself a mental slap. Keep your mind on the job. Don’t get distracted.

  “I don’t remember doing business with a Lucian,” he said as he fidgeted with his pocket like he was pulling something out. Using a small amount of power, he caused a flashlight to pop into existence. He should’ve thought to bring one along, but he hadn’t decided to come and look at the warehouse until after he’d talked to Samantha.

  He flicked it on, and Joan gasped at the sudden appearance of light. Swinging the beam around the room, he wrinkled his nose at the sight of all the garbage strewn across the cement floor. God, mortals can be such pigs at times.

  Joan sighed. “It breaks my heart to see places like this.”

  “Why? The people who stay here have the choice of keeping it clean and neat. They can find someplace to throw their trash and don’t need to piss in the corners of the place where they sleep.” Christian gritted his teeth.

  “That’s not fair. Some of them are mentally ill, and shouldn’t be on the street at all. They’re the ones who are thrown away by society instead of being helped.”

  There was a tone in Joan’s voice that intrigued Christian. He studied her for a second. “Were you homeless at one point in your life? Is that why you feel so protective of these people?”

  She stiffened and he wondered if she thought he was sneering at her. He played back what he’d said and how he’d said it. Cringing inside, he realized he might have come across as being snobby.

  “I’m sorry if I sounded as if I was making fun of you or looking down my nose at you. I know what it’s like to be without a home. To know that no matter what you do, you’re never going to be able to go back to the one place you love the most.”

  Chapter Four

  Sadness colored Christian’s words so much that Joan could feel tears well in her eyes. She wasn’t sure she believed he could ever understand what being homeless had been like for her. From what she’d seen, he’d always been rich and living above the dirty streets, but the tone of his voice told her Christian did feel something.

  “What do you miss? How do you know what it’s like to miss something so bad that you’d make a deal with the devil to get it back?”

  She took a step back when Christian swung around before grabbing her arm.

  “You didn’t make a deal with him, did you?”

  “Who? The devil?” Joan chuckled. “He doesn’t exist, along with angels and God. They’re just concepts that help the rest of us deal with things we can’t explain.”

  Christian looked surprised at her words. “You struck me as a person who believed in a higher power. Someone who watched over you.”

  “Sure. I do have someone to watch over me. For some strange reason, Lucian, my friend, has declared himself my guardian and protector. He’s helped me out a lot from the moment I decided to stop drinking and get my life back on track.”

  “So you were joking about making a deal with the devil?” Christian seemed completely serious when he asked the question.

  She smiled. “It’s an expression. Of course I was joking, Christian. The devil doesn’t exist. No matter how much we would like to blame all the bad things that happen in the world on a fictional being who leads us astray, there’s no one to blame but ourselves.”

  Christian exhaled as he let her go. “I wish that were true,” he murmured while turning back to walk across the empty warehouse.

  Joan had learnt to fear the dark after living on the streets for three years while fighting her alcoholism. She didn’t think demons lurked in the shadows, but dangerous people did. Just the thought of being left on her own in the abandoned building had her dashing over the floor to where Christian stood in the middle of the cavernous room.

  “What are you doing?”

  He held up his hand, wanting her either to stop walking or talking. She did both since she did want to know, and it would be much easier to do as he said and keep him happy. Joan could wait all night from him to speak as long as she was standing next to him.

  Finally, he shuddered as if shaking off a blanket, then swung the flashlight around to shine it in her face. “Why are you still here?”

  As much as she didn’t want him to think she was a wimp, she didn’t see the point in lying to him. “I’m scared of the dark, so I wasn’t about to walk back to where I can flag down a cab.”

  He huffed in annoyance. “Fine. I’ll escort you to a better area, then will you leave?”

  “I’m not leaving you here alone. Just because no one is here right now doesn’t mean they won’t show up later. They’d jump you for the flashlight alone.”

  “We’ve already had this conversation. I can take care of myself when I need to.” After shooting a quick look around the room, he gestured for her to go back to the door they’d come in through. “Let’s get you to your apartment. You shouldn’t be out here by yourself any way. Where are your friends?”

  Joan let him take her arm and lead her from the warehouse. She tried to ignore how her nipples hardened and her thighs clenched at the warmth of his fingers on her skin. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the scent of his—probably very expensive—cologne.

  Imagining what it would feel like to have Christian trail those long fingers of his over her body, she wasn’t looking where she was walking and tripped over the threshold of the door. Christian caught her in his arms, crushing her tight against his chest.

  Holy shit! He was hiding some nice muscles under his designer T-shirt and a good sized bulge under the zipper of his fa
ded jeans. She tried to swallow her moan, but from the way Christian tensed under her hands, she was pretty sure she hadn’t managed it.

  “Are you okay?” His hot breath washed over her ear when he asked.

  She shivered, need racing down her spine to gather in her pussy, making her wet with desire. “I’m fine.”

  Her voice came out breathy, and Christian’s chest expanded as he inhaled, like he could smell her lust.

  “Hmm…” His hum sounded disbelieving.

  Christian placed a knuckle under her chin to lift it. Joan lost all thought of protesting the minute his lips touched hers. She slid her hands up his arms to wrap around his shoulders, letting him pull her even closer.

  She gasped, allowing him to slip his tongue into her mouth, and she gave over control of the kiss. He tilted her head in a different angle so he could take it deeper. All Joan could think was how she wanted his mouth on other parts of her body. He trailed kisses over her jaw and down her neck then pressed a kiss on the fluttering pulse at the base of her throat like he knew what she was thinking.

  “Oh,” she whispered as he reached under her shirt to cup her breast in his hand. “Please.”

  Christian eased an inch or two away, then said, “Please what? I want to hear you tell me exactly what you want.”

  “I want your mouth on my breasts.”

  He grunted, seemingly surprised that she hadn’t shied away from saying what she wanted. She’d been with enough men to know that hinting didn’t always work. Most of the guys she’d slept with were only interested in getting their rocks off. They weren’t interested in making sure she came.

  “I think that could be arranged, but maybe we shouldn’t do anything more here. Might get picked up by the police for public exposure or something.” He squeezed her breast hard before stepping back. “We need to get out of here.”

  Joan took a couple of calming breaths, then nodded. “We’ll grab a cab, and go to my place.”

  “No. We’ll go to mine.”