Read Online The Master by Melanie Jackson - Free Book Online Page B

of imminent danger. Needing no more encouragement, he leapt for the doorway. The heavenly vision stepped back swiftly, pulling the two smaller angels with her, then the door slammed shut on a second lightning strike that fell only feet from the doorstep.
    It took a moment for the bright afterimages to clear from Nick’s assaulted eyes, and for his pupillary reflexes to return to normal. His body wasn’t entirely his own either. Nick felt drunk almost, or like a puppet whose strings had suddenly broken. But when he was finally able to stand erect and see clearly again, his first impression was reconfirmed; the woman who had offered him shelter in this tumble down shack was without a doubt the loveliest creature he’d ever seen. He could only stare. She was exotic in some way he could not describe—her hair, her face, all of her was exquisite and somehow foreign. And her voice was velvet, chocolate; it summoned up everything he’d ever longed for. In short, she seemed perfect, and he was half-afraid of ruining things by talking to her and discovering that she was, after all, only another illusion.
    Then he realized that she was addressing both him and the children, and he couldn’t properly hear her because of the ringing in his ears.
    Nick shook his head, trying to clear it, though he knew only time would calm his tympanic membranes assaulted by the thunder. The feeling of being slightly inebriated would probably persist until then, too; the lightning had been dangerously close.
    â€œThat was the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. Sorry. That last clap all but deafened me,” he said. “I can’t make out what you’re saying. It all sounds like garbled Greek,” he added with a smile, all the while wondering if he was speaking too loudly since he couldn’t really hear himself.
    â€œNot Greek, Lutin,” the angel said, and this time he heard her plainly. She returned his smile shyly, and added in a gentle voice: “Please, come closer to the fire. You look very cold and wet. What a terrible night to be traveling.”
    Lutin? But that couldn’t be right. That was a French word for goblin, wasn’t it? He’d never seen a goblin or heard one speak, but he had heard some nasty rumors about them from people who’d vacationed in Sin City before the flood, and he was certain they didn’t speak like this young woman. Come to think of it, they couldn’t look like her either. Goblins were supposed to have four arms.
    â€œThank you. I’m drenched and freezing. I wasn’t expecting this storm. Just four hours ago, the weather service said it would be clear. This storm must have come in on the Polar Express.”
    â€œSudden storms happen in the mountains sometimes,” the vision agreed, helping him remove his coat. The brief touch of her warm hands raised the hair on his arms—his
arrector pili
apparently liked her, too. “Perhaps that is how you got lost, Mr. . . . ? ”
    â€œI’m so sorry. I’m forgetting my manners. My name is Nicholas Anthony—Dr. Nicholas Anthony,” he added, since the title lent a certain respectability. “But please call me Nick.”
    He offered his hand, and after a moment she took it. Perhaps it was a leftover effect from the lightning coming so close, but her touch seemed to send pleasant shocks up his arms. The electricity traveled a path to his belly and then a bit lower. His penis stirred. Embarrassed by his body’s response, still, Nick didn’t retract his hand.
    â€œI am Zee Finvarra,” the woman said. After a moment she added, “And these are my brother and sister, Hansel and Gretel.”
    â€œNo way,” Nick said without thought. Then, attempting to see into the folds of her faded denim skirt, where the children were hiding, he corrected himself. “I mean, what lovely names.”
    â€œI thought so, too. It’s why I chose them,” Zee said