Read Online Lucca by Karen Michelle Nutt - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Karen Michelle Nutt
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overkill.
Leroy was one of the Watchers or so the files claimed. He lived at
the residence for fifty some years. Usually Watchers didn’t stay
that long in one place. When they didn’t age, people became
suspicious. Only, Leroy had aged or at the very least used glamour
to make it appear as if he did. He’d seen the pictures in the file
from the young man to the older gentlemen with thinning gray hair.
To keep up such a strong glamour, he had to be one of the original
two hundred angels sent down to earth to live among the humans.
Only they didn’t sit back and observe. God punished the Watchers,
banishing them from Heaven. Zaiden often wondered how those
originals went on, living century after century without finding an
end to their punishment. Some, he supposed, made the best of it.
Leroy Fennings obviously had been one of them.
His hand slipped into his designer jeans’
pocket and pulled out the PS device designed to pick up
preternatural signatures. The rectangular bronze device measured no
bigger than an I-phone, but thinner and lighter in weight. He held
the device over the blood splattered on the black and chrome
kitchen table. How did someone manage to slaughter Leroy in such a
manner? Being a full-blooded Angel, his body should have turned to
dust upon his death. Even the Nephilim returned to the earth in
such a manner.
A series of bars scrolled as it read what it
picked up. Then the screen cleared and Leroy’s face popped up. He
frowned and moved to another spot near the stove to repeat the
process all over again. A few seconds later, the results proved the
same. He maneuvered his way around the woman who was probably the
medical examiner since she looked to be taking tissue samples. She
was petite, almond skinned and with big dark brown eyes.
Attractive, he thought. He caught sight of the badge. Georgia
Humphrey, medical examiner. He’d been right.
He crouched down beside her to run the scan
over the lump of mutilated flesh. It was like Leroy had been put in
a microwave and someone cooked him from the inside out, exploding
him into the gore left behind. The screen flashed on the PS.
Leroy’s smiling face appeared on the screen. “Poor bastard.” No one
deserved this kind of death.
“Hey, you.” Zaiden didn’t bother turning
around. No one could see him while he used the glamour.
“Stop what you’re doing. Now.”
The woman’s tone of annoyance held a rough
edge, bordering on royally pissed off. He recognized the tone. It
was the same one Sarice used when speaking to her brother, Blaize,
right before she pummeled him. The two Darklins were like wildcats,
spitting and hissing at each other over one disagreement or
another, but there was no doubt the two cared about each other. If
it came down to a fight, they’d have each other’s backs.
Out of curiosity, he pivoted on his feet,
leveling his gaze at the female barking orders. The woman possessed
fine long hair, the strands more orangey red than gold. She wore
civilian clothing, but the badge around her neck and the Glock in
her hand told him otherwise. A female detective and a human, only
this human could see him. For a moment he wondered if his glamour
had slipped. His involvement with Sarice left him drained at times.
Sex with a Darklin couldn’t be compared, but the extra indulgence
of blooding proved draining—literally.
“What’s going on, Juliet?” Georgia stared at
her with concern. He waved his hand in front of Georgia’s face.
Nothing. Since the M.E. couldn’t see him, it was perfectly
reasonable to assume his glamour still held.
This woman, what did the M.E. call her? Ah
yes, Juliet. Zaiden stood slowly with his hands raised in mock
surrender. “She can’t see me… Juliet,” he drew out her name in slow
meaning.
Juliet’s eyes widened a fraction. “You’re
one of them.”
“Excuse me?” the medical examiner asked, not
realizing Juliet’s statement was meant for Zaiden.
“One of them?” Zaiden asked. “What do
Leroy was one of the Watchers or so the files claimed. He lived at
the residence for fifty some years. Usually Watchers didn’t stay
that long in one place. When they didn’t age, people became
suspicious. Only, Leroy had aged or at the very least used glamour
to make it appear as if he did. He’d seen the pictures in the file
from the young man to the older gentlemen with thinning gray hair.
To keep up such a strong glamour, he had to be one of the original
two hundred angels sent down to earth to live among the humans.
Only they didn’t sit back and observe. God punished the Watchers,
banishing them from Heaven. Zaiden often wondered how those
originals went on, living century after century without finding an
end to their punishment. Some, he supposed, made the best of it.
Leroy Fennings obviously had been one of them.
His hand slipped into his designer jeans’
pocket and pulled out the PS device designed to pick up
preternatural signatures. The rectangular bronze device measured no
bigger than an I-phone, but thinner and lighter in weight. He held
the device over the blood splattered on the black and chrome
kitchen table. How did someone manage to slaughter Leroy in such a
manner? Being a full-blooded Angel, his body should have turned to
dust upon his death. Even the Nephilim returned to the earth in
such a manner.
A series of bars scrolled as it read what it
picked up. Then the screen cleared and Leroy’s face popped up. He
frowned and moved to another spot near the stove to repeat the
process all over again. A few seconds later, the results proved the
same. He maneuvered his way around the woman who was probably the
medical examiner since she looked to be taking tissue samples. She
was petite, almond skinned and with big dark brown eyes.
Attractive, he thought. He caught sight of the badge. Georgia
Humphrey, medical examiner. He’d been right.
He crouched down beside her to run the scan
over the lump of mutilated flesh. It was like Leroy had been put in
a microwave and someone cooked him from the inside out, exploding
him into the gore left behind. The screen flashed on the PS.
Leroy’s smiling face appeared on the screen. “Poor bastard.” No one
deserved this kind of death.
“Hey, you.” Zaiden didn’t bother turning
around. No one could see him while he used the glamour.
“Stop what you’re doing. Now.”
The woman’s tone of annoyance held a rough
edge, bordering on royally pissed off. He recognized the tone. It
was the same one Sarice used when speaking to her brother, Blaize,
right before she pummeled him. The two Darklins were like wildcats,
spitting and hissing at each other over one disagreement or
another, but there was no doubt the two cared about each other. If
it came down to a fight, they’d have each other’s backs.
Out of curiosity, he pivoted on his feet,
leveling his gaze at the female barking orders. The woman possessed
fine long hair, the strands more orangey red than gold. She wore
civilian clothing, but the badge around her neck and the Glock in
her hand told him otherwise. A female detective and a human, only
this human could see him. For a moment he wondered if his glamour
had slipped. His involvement with Sarice left him drained at times.
Sex with a Darklin couldn’t be compared, but the extra indulgence
of blooding proved draining—literally.
“What’s going on, Juliet?” Georgia stared at
her with concern. He waved his hand in front of Georgia’s face.
Nothing. Since the M.E. couldn’t see him, it was perfectly
reasonable to assume his glamour still held.
This woman, what did the M.E. call her? Ah
yes, Juliet. Zaiden stood slowly with his hands raised in mock
surrender. “She can’t see me… Juliet,” he drew out her name in slow
meaning.
Juliet’s eyes widened a fraction. “You’re
one of them.”
“Excuse me?” the medical examiner asked, not
realizing Juliet’s statement was meant for Zaiden.
“One of them?” Zaiden asked. “What do
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