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    An Angel Lost Episode Two: An Angel Lost, #2
    An Angel Lost Episode Two: An Angel Lost, #2
    An Angel Lost Episode Two: An Angel Lost, #2
    Ebook153 pages2 hours

    An Angel Lost Episode Two: An Angel Lost, #2

    By Odette C. Bell

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    About this ebook

    Preston will die. But his death will cost Misa.
    After she consumes him, she's thrown into a process she can't stop – it'll claim her soul and transform her into something the world has never seen.
    But if there's one force that can help her hold onto her humanity, it's Farley. As their city falls apart, they're thrown closer together. But even that will cost Misa – she'll miss her chance to get out of Saint Helios while she still can.

    ….

    An Angel Lost follows a forbidden angel and a brooding detective fighting through a dark city for answers. If you love your urban fantasies with grit, punch, and a smattering of romance, grab An Angel Lost Episode Two today and soar free with an Odette C. Bell series.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOdette C. Bell
    Release dateOct 8, 2017
    ISBN9781386472773
    An Angel Lost Episode Two: An Angel Lost, #2

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      Book preview

      An Angel Lost Episode Two - Odette C. Bell

      1

      Farley Jones

      In and out. In and out. My consciousness is like a flag being slapped around by a violent wind. One moment it’s there, flying high. In another, it feels like it’s being torn from me.

      In between bouts of blackness, I realize I’m being taken somewhere. I’m in the back of a car, my brow bleeding, my breath a wheezing mess. I’ve done my lung – punched a hole in it with a broken rib. But that’s the least of my problems.

      I’m aware of the fact that two Gill are driving. I know they’re Gill, because they took a bite out of Dale just before he died.

      I can’t feel anger properly. But it’s there. Pulsing away, biting at me like I’ve swallowed a wolf. It’s weak, though. My brain is just too full of this dense fog. The dissolution of a man who knows he’s about to die. Not yet – not until his captors have done their worst. But soon enough it won’t matter much.

      You’d think in these, potentially my last moments, I’d look out for my self-preservation. I don’t. I use my meager awareness and strength to move my lips and ask a single question. What have you done with my partner? I can’t get the events straight in my head. There’s a gap, and the last thing I remember is heading into that breeze block building, Misa by my side. She wasn’t at the scene of the crash, and thinking about what these bastards could have done to her turns my stomach.

      One of the Gill turns right around in his seat, the sound of his neck muscles grinding like gristle being carved off bones. You’ve done well to be awake. Which bodes nicely.

      Sure does, the other Gill chuckles with the unmistakable satisfaction of someone waiting to watch their victim get their just comeuppance. Preston likes it when they can survive more than a single round of questioning.

      Preston? I manage. Who the hell is that?

      You’ll find out soon enough. He sure is keen to meet you. Has a lot of questions, the guy’s voice kicks down low as he says the word questions with a deep, lasting breath.

      Where’s my partner? I don’t care how much trouble I’m in – that’s the only question I care about right now.

      You mean the tiny woman who rode in the car with Sapphire? Why, I’d say Preston’s snapped her neck by now. Wouldn’t have been hard. A two-year-old Gill could have broken that slim little thing.

      Anger. Rage. They pulse through me, blaring in my head as they send me back into unconsciousness. One of the Gill reaches around from the front seat, wraps a hand into a fist, and helps me out with a swift punch to the jaw.

      2

      Misa

      Preston jerks back. What the hell? he spits. His lips dart up and down around the harsh whisper. Now what in the hell have we got here?

      I assumed Sapphire was Preston’s girlfriend. Maybe I got that wrong. At the sight of her dead body at his feet, he doesn’t even move. His eyes are locked on me, his pupils widening as his lips jerk into a smile. You’re an Angelus, ha? Didn’t see that one coming. I guess you’re good at hiding – as no Angelus work for the police. Wow. You must be very talented. Preston presses his lips together and whistles.

      I take a step over Sapphire’s body. My natural hunger for sinners begs me to feed on her, but that hunger can wait. For now.

      I take a casual step toward Preston. I’ve got some questions for you.

      Not as many as I have for you. He can’t keep his eyes off me. I’ve seen a lot of things in this city. I have never seen an Angelus hiding right under the noses of the police. That’s a skill. One you’re really gonna have to share with me.

      Though he’s been keeping his distance, as he shoves his hands into his pockets and demonstrates all the care of a man about to discipline a bunny rabbit, he walks over to me and stops several meters away. What kind of Angelus are you? You don’t look like a succubus, he says as his gaze lingers on my nonexistent figure. As it would be mighty hard for you to draw enough clientele to feed with the whole emaciated look you’re going after there. So what else. You a Gill? He gets another step closer and sniffs the air, his nostrils darting in and out, in and out.

      I don’t move.

      Not only am I attending to this asshole as he stalks toward me with all the self-awareness of a lamb trotting in front of a lion, but I’m paying attention to the street around us. Fortunately, there isn’t a soul in eyeshot or earshot. I doubt that’s an accident. Preston here would’ve organized that. If you’d asked me to estimate his power before this accident, I would’ve said that he was a small-time mobster. Someone with a lot of power, but still not enough force to directly go up against the authorities. Now I realize I’m wrong.

      He would have manufactured this situation. From the detour down this street to the fact that there isn’t a soul around.

      He takes another step toward me.

      I impassively tilt my head back and stare at him. I’m not a Gill, I comment eventually.

      I guess you’re right. I don’t smell fresh flesh on you. He takes another step toward me, and now he’s no more than half a meter away. I can pick up the scent of his cologne. I can feel the heat rising off his body. I can see the predatory interest flashing in his eyes. Though Majes can’t feed off other Angelus, Preston looks like a particularly resourceful man. The kind of man who will find a way to use me. The kind of man who, if he intends to butcher an animal, will use every single last tooth, nail, and bone.

      I doubt you’re a Necro, either, unless you’ve washed in bleach recently. That, or you don’t feed regularly, but considering your strength, he arches a shoulder toward Sapphire’s still form, that’s not the case. So, he stops right in front of me, what do we have here?

      His eyes are wide with the brutal attention of a butcher.

      So this is the man who’s after my niece.

      That fact wends its way into my mind, pushing into my reason, grabbing it and breaking it apart like honeycombed old bones.

      Though reason tells me to get this over and done with, to take this fight off the street, and to only reveal as much to Preston as I can, reason be damned.

      He leans right in front of me, his eyes bright as he continues to smell me. I’ll admit, the Majes sense of smell isn’t nearly as good as a Necro or a Gill’s, but I’m a pretty resourceful man. I’ve practiced using my sense of smell. He leans right in, presses his face close to the nape of my neck, and smells. And I can’t sense flesh on you. So what, his lips spread wide in a snide smile, do we have here? Are you another Majes? I thought I controlled all Majes on my turf?

      The street is as quiet as a grave, the only sound the still-steaming engine of the crushed squad car. Smoke wafts around us, catching the ends of my loose and messy hair.

      I look at him, tilting my head to the side. It’s my turn to lean in. Aren’t you forgetting one possibility? I lean in and bring my face close to the side of his.

      I don’t think so— he begins. He stops.

      You can’t sense my emotion, can you, little Majes? So what possibility does that leave? I don’t smell like a Gill. I bring my arm up and push it past his shoulder as if I’m about to draw him into an embrace. I begin to count on my fingers. I don’t smell like a Necro either. I don’t look like a Succubus. And, I click my fingers right by his ear, I’m too strong for a Majes. So tell me, Preston, my lips move hard around his name as I say it with relish, what does that make me?

      I feel as every one of his muscles stiffen. I sense as realization pumps through him. As it dislodges his usually perfect emotional control. As it screams at him to run. You can’t be, he stutters.

      "But I am. And Preston – I’m angry."

      I bring my other arm around and loop it onto his shoulder as if I really am hugging him now.

      Fuck, he spits. He jerks forward, shifting back as he pulls something from his pocket.

      Some kind of knife. He doesn’t bother trying to stab me with it and rather just throws it my way.

      It glances off me as Preston turns and runs.

      I don’t hurry. I still can’t smell a single witness. I take my time as Preston throws himself into a building across the street. It’s empty, just like the rest of the places along this road.

      I stroll across the street, up onto the pavement, and catch the door before it can swing shut.

      I can hear the faint sound of Preston’s footfall down a set of stairs to my left.

      I place a hand gently on the railing and trot down them one after another.

      His breathing comes in short, sharp bursts that rattle through his lungs, bleeding his emotion until it gushes out of him like a high-pressure tank that’s just been pierced.

      Never in a hurry, I continue to stroll down the stairs one by one as I hear him make his way further into the basement.

      I doubt Preston’s an idiot, even when he’s this scared. He wouldn’t have run into that basement unless he was certain of escape. Maybe it leads somewhere; maybe he’s got a weapon stashed there. None of that matters.

      I reach a closed door. From the vibration of the metal, I feel that it’s been recently locked. I bring a foot back, tense my muscles, and kick. The thing crumples in front of me.

      I walk in to find Preston on the opposite side of the room. He’s got something hidden behind his back.

      I stroll up to him, my hands clamped on my hips. I’ve been hoping to run into you. And look, now you’re here. Obviously all my dreams are about to come true.

      I don’t usually play with my prey this much. But Preston played with me, and now it’s time to show him just what that feels like.

      We can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way. I recognize that you’re a powerful Majes. But even your abilities do not match mine. So I suggest you comply. I stride up to him and stop several meters before him.

      Can you answer some questions for me, pretty please?

      I don’t get it – how did an Arc skip Army Intelligence? Hell, how did you hide from us?

      If by us you mean the Brotherhood, the answer is you never had the skills to find me. And if you think you can use whatever weapon is behind your back to kill me, think again. Now, my voice is as low and grating as it can be, "please answer

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