Awakening: Promiscus Guardians, #1

Other Books by Author

The Promiscus Guardians Series

Awakening, Book One

Metamorphosis, Book Two

Dawning, Book Three

Resurrection, Book Four

The Guardians in Love Series

Victor, Book One

Pavel, Book Two

Bernie, Book Three

Carl, Book Four

Cecile, Book Five

The Underground Guardians Series

When Darkness Breaks, Book One

New Guardian Generation Series

Demon’s Bloodlust, Book One

The Hunter V Series

V for Vampire Hunter, Book One

The King and I: A Promiscus Guardian Love Story

Captured by a Blade: A Promiscus Guardian Short Story

Angel Tears

L ove is the answer , but while you’re waiting for the answer, sex raises some pretty interesting questions.—Woody Allen.

Table of Contents

Other Books by Author

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter One

It was curiosity that killed the cat. Well, I say bah-hum-bug to them.

I leered around the corner, eyes focused on the shadows of two very large men standing in a dark, deserted alley. My vision had finally adjusted to the very little light, morphing their once solid mass into two separate entities.

You might ask yourself why I, a five-foot-five-inch woman with no real fighting ability and even less of an ability for spying, would find myself here, watching and waiting for two men whom I knew nothing about.

Well, I don't know myself.

However, here I was, my hands numb with the cold and itching to find warmth within the shallow depths of my jean pockets as I acted every part of the innocent bystander and not the eavesdropping idiot. I had been here for about ten minutes since the two men had left our small-town bar, and goddamn it was cold!

Both men were equally eye-catching. One appeared almost angelic. His hair was the color of pale morning light and eyes a clear blue like the Hawaiian ocean. The other man faded into the shadows, with sun-kissed flesh that was smooth and bare the length of his arms, black shoulder-length hair, and eyes that glinted in the low illumination as if reflecting the light itself.

The lighter one—I dubbed him Blondie—was slightly shorter, maybe just over six-foot in height with a long, fitted overcoat and dark faux leather pants. The darker one—dubbed similarly by myself as Tall, Dark, and Handsome—was towering my five-foot-five-inch with his six-foot-four-inch. He’d fashioned himself with a short-sleeved, guava colored shirt and denim jeans that hugged incredibly delicious looking thighs. Not that I was looking or anything.

Although, he had to be some kind of crazy to be wearing next to nothing in this weather. It was a prickling forty degrees outside with a cold blast of wind to help that feel like twenty-below. I was once more racked to the bone with shivers.

Damn it was cold!

Focus.

My stare darted over my shoulder, as if I might catch the peeping tom watching this rather inept version of one.

Hey, I didn’t know how to spy, but I understood enough to be observant of my overall surroundings; which, at the moment, included one very dimly lit streetlight harboring nothing but an eerie glow and a partially paved street that melted into darkness. I immediately comprehended just how idiotic the situation I now found myself in was. I could easily be murdered and no one would be the wiser to my disappearance.

Shaking away my thoughts, I returned my focus instead to Blondie and Tall, Dark, and Handsome. I captured their soft voices floating down the quiet of the alley like they were on speaker phone.

Speaking of phone...

I dove a hand into my back pocket, pulling out my phone and quickly silencing it before it could be my undoing. Nattie was especially capable of drunk-dialing, and I wasn't going to get murdered because she was prone to call me well into the evening, some may even say morning.

What of the disappearances? Blondie inquired of his counterpart.

His voice was, simply put, panty-wetting. Not that mine were. I mean, my panties were very much dry, but I suspected after a good hour of his deep Russian accent, I’d need a new pair.

Tall, Dark, and Handsome regarded Blondie with an eyebrow, I think. It was hard to discern facial expressions from my vantage point.

There have been twelve, none of which could be easily connected.

It was, to say the least, a very odd conversation to be having at eleven in the evening behind a bar called The Bar. And yes, I thought the name ridiculously obvious, but it was the only one in our little town. Besides, The Bar had the best bartender in the entire region. He was easy on the eyes and even easier on my bank account, with a mean Whiskey Sour.

Dark hair fell into my face as I shifted my weight to the other leg, my right leg having become uncomfortably stiff. But when the abrupt wind lifted my hair around the stone wall and into the alleyway, suddenly, both men stiffened. I blinked with intrigue before the two disappeared from the alley like they had never really been there.

Where the fu—?

Who are you? a deep English baritone questioned.

My body immediately hit the brick wall I had been using for cover, and the stone was like being pressed into a block of ice. I groaned softly, head pounding, and the soft trickle of what I could only surmise as blood trailed from a wound probably inflicted by the rough stone.

What... I bit out against the overwhelming need to scream.

I wasn’t about to further injure myself by attempting to fight back. I was clearly outmatched. Besides, I wasn’t exactly sure I hadn’t just hallucinated this entire night. Did they just disappear? That wasn't even possible.

Unless...

Before I could stop myself, the giggles burst from me. The hand driving my head into the wall tensed before I was turned with a force that nearly stole the breath from me and slammed back into my good old friend, wall.

I gasped, teeth chattering against both injury and cold. Vision swaying precariously, I was instantly face-to-face with Tall, Dark, and Handsome. He was beautiful and would have been mouth-watering, if not for the fact that he was probably going to kill me. I wasn't picky, I mean not really, but killing me usually meant you were probably not my type.

Who do you work for? he demanded.

Work for?

I was doing my best to focus, even though there were two of him. My stomach clenched impossibly, threatening to evict all its contents should I receive another blow. His question confused me, and if I were being honest, scared me shitless.

I do not know what you are, he continued in a voice that encouraged pure terror to well up inside of me, but be assured, I will kill you if you do not give me the name of your employer.

Okay, this was getting weirder by the minute.

There was no denying that he could easily kill me, and apparently would if I didn’t answer correctly. But this entire situation seemed utterly surreal, making me idly wonder if it was actually happening.

Did I fall asleep reading one of my paranormal romances and somehow dream this? I’d have to say, I had a very creative imagination. I stared at my captor for a moment before the movement behind him stole my attention.

Red glowing eyes flashed, startling a gasp from my throat. But before I could let the scream loose, Tall, Dark, and Handsome parried an attack and blocked my view with his incredible size. And then he became a blur in my vision.

Lucas! I heard Blondie's voice call out.

A flash of light exploded, causing me to become momentarily blinded. I shut my eyes tightly, touching the palms of my hands to the cold stone to keep me rooted. I felt faint, and not in the good way. I think the head blow was finally settling in. I fought to stay conscious, gripping the wall desperately as I moved in an effort to get away.

I could hear shouts and sounds that oddly resembled animal growls but were much deeper and resonant. It was as if I was the main actress in some B-rated horror film, because I was sure I looked every bit the overacting heroine.

Pavel, a deep English accent echoed into the night, Get the girl!

My blood ran cold. I searched the darkness around me. I could just barely make out two large, blurred shadows colliding. There were flashes of red glow trailing the air as if someone had taken a glow stick and ran through the dark with it. I was caught momentarily stunned by the sight before a hard grasp to my shoulder startled me out of my enraptured stare. I turned to find Pavel, formerly Blondie, holding me with a cold stare and an even colder grip.

Come, was all he said before he dragged me towards god-knows-where.

I fought his grip, fingers clawing at his unyielding hand on my shoulder as I was led into the darkness, probably to the place he intended to kill me.

Jesus! Why was I so nosy?! Why couldn't I ignore the hotties and just go home to my usual crowd, Ben and Jerry. I was stupid is why. I was stupid and it was going to get me killed.

We came to a clearing that was bathed in moonlight. The grass glistened with liquid drops of late evening mist, and the beautiful landscape would have otherwise enraptured me with awe if not for my impending doom.

Pavel gave an impression of the fallen angel with his pale blonde hair contrasting the dark around him and his body standing large and imposing in the midst of a vast field of grass. His stature spoke volumes of his confidence that we wouldn’t be discovered here by prying eyes. And he was right. Fields of grass in this part of town were only visited by the local wildlife, especially at this hour, and I seriously doubted that some passing deer would fancy saving me from this beast.

Even Bambi wasn’t that brave.

Nope, I had to take down this brute my own damn self.

I was prepared to fight to the end, despite knowing it wouldn’t do me any good. I was clearly outmatched in strength and skill, but I was a woman capable of limitless, hopeless optimism, so I wouldn’t go down without a fight. I might do little more than roughen up his brand-name clothing, but goddammit, I would do it in earnest!

I fought the tilt in my vision; it had blurred and my voice likely slurred as a result of the head trauma. Bring it on, Blondie. I won't die without scratching off that smug look on your face, you angelic bastard.

I was about to bring it!

His eyebrow rose a fraction before a side of his gorgeous lip upturned to my defiance. And then you will lose.

Sure, I concurred easily. Jesus that sounded lame. But I'll make sure to leave a mark before I go, I added, hoping to recover some of the dignity I’d lost purely with my weak fighting stance and harsh, labored breathing.

Not to mention all these lame ass responses I was contriving in the face of this beautiful man. His gorgeousness was evidently making me go brainless.

So instead, I took advantage of his obvious amusement at the puppy barking at his heels to pull out the mace from my back pocket, where I stored it for emergencies. With practiced grace, or what I thought seemed graceful for a person harboring a head injury, I sprayed a generous amount in his smirking mug.

Delight turned to rage as his eyes caught the spray dead-on. Staggering, I coughed away the intense burn when the wind blew some of the spray my direction, immediately torturing my eyes and throat.

Wheezing and aiming my stumble sideways, I took the only opportunity thus far to escape. I ran like I had never ran in my life, which wasn’t saying much since I abhorred exercise, especially running. I was smirking, sure, but only because I felt like I had gained a small upper hand.

Mace was a popular weapon for a woman in her defense, but not many carried it these days. I had it as more of a joke than anything. Nattie thought it was an entirely underrated prank gift and got it for my twenty-first birthday. Six years later, I was thanking my best friend and her need for a good joke; it had served me well.

My breathing grew labored, more so than before, and my vision teetered.

Holy hell, I needed to jog more! If not for my overall physique, which was lacking at the moment due to too many trips to the local bakery, then at least for my survival of crazy hot killers that I had the misfortune of drooling over and partially eavesdropping on.

The ground beneath me disappeared and a sense of lightness overtook my body before I collided with cold, wet ground. For the second time that evening, the wind was knocked right out of me. My body hit the ground so hard that it jolted with the impact and pain frayed through me, reminding me that the ground was not my friend. My vision swam with swirls of pale blonde hair and smirking dark angels fading in and out of view.

Then I lost consciousness.

Chapter Two

My body felt heavy . I was pretty sure if I was dead, I’d feel as light as a feather, right? I wouldn’t be able to feel my fingers, which were currently touching something soft. Clouds, perhaps? Was I in heaven? I curled said fingers, testing the softness that they touched, and it yielded against me. Okay, so it felt more like a blanket that I would have in my bedroom than an expanse of weightless clouds.

Hesitating, I opened my eyes. The room was dark around me, but I immediately observed that my surroundings were unfamiliar. I would never own a Victorian period vanity. Mostly because I preferred simple furniture, and more specifically, cheap furniture.

Suffice it to say, I was not in my one-bedroom apartment. I didn't have an ancient grandfather clock either, that I knew of. I was pretty sure that if I did have one, it wouldn't have been in my room, because that was just plain annoying. Who wanted a clock chiming the hour in their bedroom?

I wouldn’t even let Nattie set her alarm when she stayed over. Despite the fact that she partied every night, she did have a day job, and it woke her early.

I sat up, despite my body protesting the movement. My question was answered—last night did happen. That, or I acted out my dream and ran wild through the streets. Either way, I was in pain. I grimaced and held my pounding head, hoping to calm the raging storm inside of it.

So you are awake.

I jerked at the sound of a voice that was as deep and as impressionable as it was in my dream. Or not dream. Well, whatever it was. I peered over the direction the voice had come from and found the figure of a man towering inside the door frame at the far-end of the room.

Fabulous. I had been kidnapped by Tall, Dark, and Handsome.

Surprisingly, I replied, my voice hoarse with probably more pain than sleep.

I hurt like a bitch, everywhere.

Surprisingly? he questioned and made his way into the room.

I scooted closer to the head of the bed, putting as much distance as I could between us. I was sure that you would have killed me by now.

You or Blondie.

Should I have? His tone was light, but his eyes expressed the seriousness of the question.

You tell me. I painted my back up against the headboard. I mean, I don't think I deserve to die purely for eavesdropping, but I guess we all have our standards.

He watched me with dangerously dark eyes that sucked me in as quickly as if I had been caught in the current of the ocean. His large arms crossed over his well-defined torso, and I could practically make out all the muscles straining beneath his shirt as he silently watched me.

Well, this wasn't awkward. I knew I was his captive, but somehow it felt like I should be proving my innocence by the way he gazed at me.

So, you are unaware of just what you stumbled upon last eve? he asked with a somewhat bemused tone.

My eyebrow rose in response to his rhetorical question, which I felt almost inclined to scoff at.

Who the hell spoke like that? No one. It was an old use of the language. Maybe as a result of his clear origins, he thought it made him sound superior? Actually, it did, and despite my best efforts to appear nonchalant, it intrigued me.

I shook off my interest and answered his question. I had a tendency to stick my foot in my mouth, and I got the impression that it would not be tolerated by Tall, Dark, and Handsome.

No. My voice was strong, though my insides were twisted with fear. I only knew that it was an odd conversation to be having in an alley.

What were you hoping to gain from overhearing our conversation? he questioned accusingly.

I don't know. He didn't seem to accept this answer by the thinning of his lips and tightening of his jaw. I honestly was just curious. Two very—um—striking men leave the bar together and meet secretly behind it, you do the math.

I fail to see your reasoning. His eyes bore into my own, and I found myself fidgeting under the intense stare.

It was suspicious. And very possibly gay, but I left that bit out and returned his gaze with renewed confidence. I followed you since I was interested to see what you might be...up to...and found you in the alley. I barely heard anything at all, I swear.

He pondered my response, his eyes searching my own as he weighed my answer with his own memory of the event. Or so I imagined.

To be honest, I was already lost to the overall direness of our situation with the pure attraction I felt for this man before me. He hadn’t killed me, so that had to count for something, right?

Nattie always complained that I had horrible taste in men, but I happened to believe my taste was simply unhindered by the typical high standards women held for men. My beating heart and unbound limbs spoke volumes to me already. Besides, for some very odd reason, I felt like I could trust him even though he had nearly given me a concussion with the head bash to last night's wall.

Now that there was a little more light than before, I could discern his features better. Oh, and did I discern them.

His hair just touched his shoulders and appeared just as dark as it had in the alley where I first saw him. It reminded me of black silk, flowing down until it curled just at the tips. His eyes were almond shape and dark like I had initially thought, but were instead a deep, penetrating sapphire-blue. His sun-kissed skin looked smooth, and my fingers trembled with the desire to feel just how smooth. Also, it momentarily made me wonder what kind of body wash he used to have such a flawless complexion.

His jaw was a hard line accompanied by perfectly sculpted cheekbones. His nose was proportionately shaped and angular, with only the slightest flaring in his nostrils, which easily added both a beauty and masculinity to his face. His lips were infinitely more delicious looking than any man I’d ever laid eyes on. Actually, they looked quite soft and full, and kissable.

If he had not bashed me into a wall, I daresay I would have asked him to join me for drink. And after a night of drinks, profess my undying love and loyalty. However, that wasn’t happening even if this Englishman found me attractive enough to share a drink with.

I was not terrible looking. Nattie had even gone to say I was attractive, but her opinion was of a best friend and meant little to me.

I had long brunette hair a similar color to chocolate. My eyes were a mixture of blue and green with the softest touch of yellow that haloed the pupil and gave them a greenish hue. I had freckles that speckled from my forehead to the tops of my feet to accompany my pasty white skin, which was partly why I was so envious of Tall, Dark, and Handsome; I would simply never tan to such perfection as that. Quite the opposite, I would burn baby burn. My build wasn't heavy, but I wasn't skinny, either. Simply put, I was your average Jane with very little at my disposal to entice the opposite sex with.

It had been a long time since I had a man in my bed. A very long time.

Nattie had finally dragged me out to The Bar and left early with some barney, as she was prone to do, leaving me by my lonesome with a bunch of old drunks that were eager to saddle up beside me with ‘if I was your age’ comments that always ended with ‘I would take you home.’

Thanks, old man, but if you were my age, you'd get a knee.

Speaking of Nattie, my hand dove into my pocket, and I was disappointed to find that my phone had been confiscated.

So they were pros.

Damn.

Where's Blondie? I finally asked when Tall, Dark, and Handsome had been skulking silently near the doorway for far too long in my dapper opinion.

Who? He was momentarily startled from his gaze at the nearby vanity. Vanities were nice and all, but I doubt he was staring at it for any particular reason except being lost to his thoughts.

Brooding and handsome? This doom and gloom brute was straight out of my usual collection of romance novels.

Uh...what's his name...? I racked my brain for the asshole that knocked me out. It was very Russian and started with a 'P,' as in ‘pretentious.’

Oh, Pavel.

Dark angels always had weird and hard to pronounce names. I didn't read about many Russian dark angels, though. Most times, they were English. Lucas would have been a perfect dark angel as well, but he struck me as something different. Something darker with a conscience. Probably closer to an unsung-hero-type pirate captain with a reputation that proceeded him but was quite the opposite of the truth.

He will return shortly, Lucas answered coolly.

Well, at least he didn't ignore me. Although, knowing his accomplice would return soon had my stomach clenching with spite.

Here I was, conversing with my captor as if I wasn't just thrown into a wall, questioned, and made witness to some crazy shit I won't even think about for sake of sanity. Not to mention being knocked out at the end of the impressionable evening.

Chalk it all up to a normal and crazy Friday night, I suppose.

Look, I said finally after deciding when you can't run, you reason, I realize that what I did last night was unforgivably rude, but I won't utter a word of this to anyone if you let me go. I promise to act as if last night and this morning never happened.

Was it in fact morning? I couldn't guess, but since the clock chimed seven, I assumed I couldn't have been out for an entire day.

I cannot permit that, he said with a finality that stopped my heart instantly inside my chest.

Figures.

I wasn’t exactly talented with the art of persuasion, and guessing by his outstanding looks and physique, Lucas was more than likely used to having people try to persuade him.

My hands clenched at my side, and I withheld the outburst sure to make its way out of my mouth. Why not?

You will be in danger if I did.

I stared at him in silence before laughter overtook me. "In danger?! Who the hell do you think knocked me out in the first place? What's to say that Blondie won't come back to finish the job. I seem to remember being promised to be silenced forever if I didn't answer your goddamn questions!"

That was before we knew what you are and what you are capable of doing.

I watched him as if he had grown another head. Which in my defense, after our previous evening, he could very well have and it would be just as bat-shit-crazy as six foot men disappearing and large shadows with glowing red eyes.

I'm not following. I'm pretty sure that I'm terrible at fighting, prone to donut consumption, nosy, and quick to stick my foot in my mouth with sarcastic outbursts. That’s about all the interesting bits about me, I said with confidence.

His face, for the first time since we’d met, melted into a softened expression.

Be still my heart! He was gorgeous when he smiled. His face lit up like a Christmas tree.

The deep rumble of his laughter echoed off the walls of my current prison. Donut consumption? I hardly think that noteworthy. His body shifted slightly, leaning against the wall instead of the doorframe.

Believe me, my unfaltering loyalty to donuts is pretty impressive, I stated with inflated pride, hoping that the humor would somehow break down his defensive barriers so I could escape this Victorian period hell hole.

I gave the room another once over. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to escape. The windows were too small and would not fit the size of my derriere no matter what angle I might try.

I almost giggled at the thought of my new word 'derriere.' My romance novels were starting to pay off. Pretty soon my internal ramblings would manifest into verbal outbursts that would later, or sooner, transform me into a crazy spinster.

I really needed to get laid, or at the very least have an entirely too long make-out session with some heavy petting.

Finally returning to the topic at hand, my current captivity, I faced the man now giving me unbidden sexual urges. So, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. This earned me another raised eyebrow, which, in response, I cleared my throat in order to hold back the need to laugh victoriously at my biting wit. I mean, Lucas. What might I possess that could very well warrant my current imprisonment?

Hell yeah, I sounded smart! I crossed my arms over my chest with overstated confidence.

You mean that you do not know of what I speak?

Well, duh. If I did, why the hell would I ask?

No, I said, deciding that simple and short was the best course of action with the overly serious Tall, Dark, and Handsome.

He appeared at a loss, and it was the first time Lucas had shown anything other than his customary arrogant confidence or authoritative scolding. Before he could elaborate, a deep baritone broke through the momentary quiet.

Lucas.

I recognized the Russian accent almost instantly and internally cringed. Pavel had returned. As if hearing my internal thoughts, Pavel entered the room with his hair in a platinum mess about his face. In the light, he was even more beautiful than I remembered. However, Beauty was the Beast in this case if my throbbing migraine was anything to show for it.

Pavel’s light hair was in disarray, but in a sort of I-meant-it-to-appear-messy kind of way. Light blue, azure depths focused on me from where he stood in the doorway. The bastard even had perfect white teeth, which were currently mocking me with the sultry smile he offered my direction.

Jerk.

The Russian’s black t-shirt was stretched over his taut, well-sculpted chest, very nearly bursting, and it was only a slight—okay—tremendous distraction from his mesmerizing eyes and perfect, smirking mug.

All-in-all, I was almost certain they were gay. Two men living in close quarters of equally stunning beauty, there had to be a catch, and it was assuredly that they bat for the all-man team. The other catch being they were likely serial killers, and very presently, kidnappers.

We’re not gay, Blondie proclaimed with exasperation, nearly throwing me from the bed with the incredibility of his statement.

How the hell—? I started, suddenly unable to breathe.

You are hard to tune out. I won’t, though. Your mind is very entertaining. Pavel gave me a knowing look before turning to Lucas.

She is not yet aware of her powers and even more naive to our world. I was able to sort through her memories, and she has lived as a human from infancy. Her mind is unprotected, which led me to believe she has yet any control or understanding over her powers.

I had presumed as much, Pavel. Lucas seemed aggravated by the information. You could have enlightened me to such things last night before I nearly ran her head through a wall.

Yeah! If you could read my mind, you should have said it earlier, you bastard.

Pavel's eyes met mine, mirth dancing within them.

Definitely a bastard.

Well, I was quite preoccupied with keeping our barrier intact, wasn’t I? And you left me very little room after discovering her.

Yeah, I felt about as invisible as a fly on the wall. They were speaking to each other as though I wasn't even in the damn room. Not that I could blame them. In comparison to these gods, I was inconsequential and easily forgettable. So instead, I focused on the previous conversation about certain abilities I might harbor.

Was I like, a superhero or something? Could I kill people with my eyes or climb walls with the palms of my hands and soles of my feet?  Or maybe, could I even fly? That would be super cool but also sort of ironic since I was afraid of heights.

Victor will wish to be informed of her existence, I heard Lucas say as images of myself in a cape and tights danced in my head.

Pavel's head jerked towards me, a grin breaking out over his face. The mere action nearly startled me into a drooling mess of a fan girl. You look good in a cape, Moya Solnishka, but I’d much rather you visualize yourself without any clothes at all.

My cheeks flared, and I did my best to glare in his direction. Did the man even understand how invasive reading my thoughts was?

I visualized him catapulting across the room and was surprised when he was sent backwards and into a wall with a loud thump. Lucas’s eyes went wide as he jerked his head towards his friend, and then towards me. Pavel was momentarily stunned before he was at my bedside, his face every image of fury. I sunk into the mattress, cowering at the ferocity in his eyes.

Damn, Russians were intimidating when angry.

Calm down, Pavel. You know she could not have possibly done it on purpose, Lucas said from behind him, appearing within the blink of an eye to hold the Russian back should he act upon his anger.

I honestly wasn’t sure what had just taken place. How did I do that?

I'm awesome, I accidentally voiced out loud.

My eyes widened and glanced quickly towards the two men. Pavel was still every bit as scary as he had been the night before, but Lucas, well, he looked very close to losing his composure to a fit of giggles. Did big men like him giggle? It was certainly an entertaining image.

Pavel's face relaxed and his lip upturned. I guess not, the Russian said as he shook Lucas off. But do it again, Moya Solnishka, and I will not be as lenient.

What did you say to an angry Russian? Not a damn thing. So I merely nodded and clasped my hands tightly behind me in an effort to subdue the trembling. Even though I was minimally ashamed of my actions, I was also pretty amazed with myself. This was not the first time something like this had occurred, but I had always attributed it to coincidence. Now I wasn't so sure.

Addressing Pavel once more, Lucas referred back to their previous conversation. I will speak with Victor tomorrow. Today, I think it wise that we speak with Isabelle.

Izzy, I corrected, hating the way my name sounded. I was by no means making myself familiar with these two, but I abhorred my full name.

Izzy, Lucas repeated with a smirk. I assume you have questions.

Damn right.

Then let us answer them.

Chapter Three

To say I was prepared for what the two of them might enlighten me with would mean that I was ready to believe in witches, demons, and vampires. Which I wasn’t.

Lucas painted a world that was similar to what one could read in one of my paranormal romance novels. He described beasts that lived on the flesh and blood of humans, and the opposing creatures