If I were of the mind to purchase Id buy them all, he remarked, but unfortunately Ive no permanent residence. Bit of a world traveler.
That must be exciting.
There is something about you, Eden. He leaned in close and his fruity scent enticed her to remain in place, despite the creepy stranger signals he was sparking out at her. Do you by chance, he whispered, wear a sigil on your body?
A sigil? That was a weird question, but oddly intuitive.
Could he also know what she knew?
The man glanced about the crowded gallery, not appearing too interested in her response.
No. What Eden knew about her paintings was private, personal. He hadnt a clue, and she didnt dare discuss it because she had a healthy fear for mental wards.
Compelled to get away from the man, Eden slipped away while he studied the painting, insinuating herself behind a few tall men in business suits.
Todd appeared and slipped a goblet of pinot noir into her grasp. I thought you were taking off before six, Eden? I can close up shop and handle the stragglers. He tugged at his pink tie; it clashed brilliantly with his purple shirt and his soft emerald eyes.
Thanks, Todd. Did you talk to the guy with the white hair and all the nose rings?
Not yet. He just wandered in. Creepy?
To the tenth degree. He makes me feel uncomfortable. And yet, intrigued. Could a person be compelled and repelled at the same time?
Want me to go punch him for you?
She hugged Todd across the shoulders. No. Save those valuable fingers for your IT work. I think Im going to sneak out, though. Ive been here six hours. Need to sit and put my feet up. See you tomorrow evening for part deux of Eden Campbells fabulous debut.
Ill be here. But itll be a close call. Ive a shift at Cloud Nine until five. He kissed her check. Talk to you later, sweetie.
Eden tilted down the wine and claimed her purse from the office before deftly making her way toward the front door.
Rolling up her left sleeve as she gained the door, she spied the top of the strange mans white hair. He still stood before The Fall. His attention was rapt, so she was able to slip out without his notice.
After hobnobbing in the stuffy gallery for hours, Eden welcomed the refreshing summer rain. She lifted her face to catch the light mist. She should have utilized her fathers limo, always at her disposal, but the drivers son turned twelve today, so shed given him the day off. She wasnt one of those trust-fund babies who thought they were entitled to everything. At least, she tried not to be.
The July sun peeked through the clouds and glinted high on the windows of another trendy little gallery across the street. She examined her forearm. It had stopped tingling and the skin wasnt red so it couldnt be a rash.
Tapping the birthmark below her inner elbow, she wondered at what the punk had asked her.
Do you wear a sigil on your body?
How could he know? Was it possible he knew things like she did?
No. He must have seen her tug up her sleeve. Talk about a cheap pickup line at its strangest.
Waving her arm, she sought a cab. The sidewalk was cluttered with people en route to the subway for the supper rush. Toeing the curb, Eden was distracted by the sudden appearance of the white-haired man charging toward her.
A cab pulled up with a squeal.
Startled by the mans intent path toward her, Eden rushed for the cabs back door and managed to open it just as the punk grabbed her by the wrist.
You were holding out on me, Eden.
The wild look in his eye cautioned her. His crooked grin freaked her. Let go of me!
He stroked his fingers over her forearm. A number. Thats an interesting one. Six, he pronounced with a hiss.
She struggled, but his grip pinched her skin.
Then he did something so bizarre Eden could but stand, frozen like a scared alley cat, and watch. He licked her forearm, right below the weird birthmark that looked like a Roman numeral six. As if from a cats tongue, the contact abraded her skin.
His exposed eye now glowed a brilliant blue as he drew his gaze up to hers.
Survival impulse kicked in. Eden leaned against the cab and kicked high. The spike of her heel sunk into his gut. The man staggered backward with a yowl of pain.
Eden bent and landed in the backseat of the cab butt-first. Go! she yelled. Theres a creep after me. She slammed the door shut as the cab spun away from the curb.
Fight with the boyfriend? the cabbie asked in a Texan accent.
What? She was so flustered, she sat sprawled across the backseat, arms groping for hold and one leg still poised for another kick against the door. Boyfriend? No, he dumped me after theNo! Ive never seen the guy before.
Theyre all a bunch of crazies. Where to?
Just drive!
She shuffled upright on the seat and looked out the rear window. The punks arms pumped vigorously.
Hes running after us! He couldnt possibly catch a car on foot, could he? Take the next left turn. Dont slow down or let him catch up.
Yes, maam. A car chase. Havent done one of those in a while.
Yeah? Theres a big tip in it for you if you lose the guy.
Hes on foot. The cabbie gunned the engine. No problem.
Shaking the rain from her hair and tugging up her sleeve, Eden stroked her forearm. It was pink.
He licked me, she said in horror. What did you say?
That man, he licked me. Why do you think hed do that? Oh my God, I wonder if he has
AIDS? No, I couldnt get it that way. What are you doing? I said dont stop!
Sorry, maam, red light.
Eden twisted up onto her knees and scanned the sidewalk. No sight of the punk. He was thin and she hadnt nailed him for being overly strong. That shed been able to kick him away impressed her inner kick-ass chick. He must have given up. Though it was likely a man on foot could catch a cab in this rush-hour traffic
Thunk.
The man landed on the trunk of the car on all fours, as if an animal had dropped from above.
Holy crap, the cabbie said, and rolled through the green light. That is a mite dangerous.
Shake him off, Eden warbled nervously. She slid her hand along her thigh, feeling for the small blade she kept strapped there. Hes climbing onto the top of the cab.
I dont want anyone to get hurt, the cabbie protested.
A sudden right turn resulted in a clatter across the top of the vehicle. Eden saw the punk land on the asphalton two feet. Not like hed been whipped off the car and couldnt catch his bearings. He was agile and determined. One glowing blue eye remained focused on the cab.
Unbetievable, the cabbie said. Theres a short tunnel ahead. Well lose him in there.
Go for it!
The punk stood in the middle of the road, right on the yellow no-pass center line. Arms curved out in a fierce stance, he stomped one booted foot and snarled.
Eden couldnt comprehend this.
He must be on drugs to have survived being thrown from the top of the car, and then to stand as if nothing had happened. Now he ran after the cab like some indestructible robot from a sci-fi movie.
Drive faster!
The cab interior went dark. The red lights lining the inner walls of the tunnel flashed intermittently. The cab slowed.
What are you doing? Traffic is going faster than this. Keep up!
Its an angel the cabbie said in a wondrous tone.
What? Eden leaned over the front seat, dodging her head down to see around the rearview mirror. Im the only nut who ever thinks she sees anI dont see anything. You have a clear lane. Keep driving!
She snapped her fingers next to the cabbies ear. He shook his head as if snapping out of a trance.
Daylight burst into the cab as the car cruised out of the tunnel. Ahead, a four-way stop did not slow the cab. Eden gripped the drivers-seat headrest and twisted her body to scan out the side and rear windows. No sign of the punk.
Then the cab turned leftinto oncoming trafficand Edens body was thrown from the back of the cab into the front. Her head plunged toward the passenger side floor. Impact thudded her shoulder. Metallic blood trickled across her tongue.
The vehicles tires left the tarmac. The cab flipped and landed upside-down, spinning twice before slamming into a street signal pole. Glass shattered. Iron bent.
Eden blacked out.
* * *
Her eyelids fluttered.
The smell of gasoline mixed with the sweet odor of blood. Her chin was shoved down to her chest and her legs felt higher than her shoulders.
Trapped.
Blinking rapidly, Eden grasped for what had happened. The accident. Theyd run a stop sign. Because the punk with the eye patch had tracked them across the cityon foot!
She eased herself out through the open door and landed on the street on her knees. Safety glass littered the ground, but she avoided it. Peering into the taxi, she spied the cabbie, his head on the steering wheel. There was no visible blood, and he was groaning.
Not dead, thank goodness.
A constant honking car horn effectively cleared her foggy brain. Other vehicles had been involved in the crashtwo more, she saw from her kneeling position.
Fore in Edens mind remained the strange man. Hed literally been hell-bent on getting to her. Was he still in pursuit? Had he been hit by one of the cars that had collided in the accident?
She slid shaky fingers along her forearm. It itched where he had licked her. She scratched, but a drop of blood on the seat distracted her. Where had that? She touched her head. A gash across her eyebrow bled. Didnt feel deep. It didnt hurt at all, which could be a good thing, or very bad.
A slide of fingers under her skirt and along her thigh verified the small blade still there. She could have been poked with it. Shed been fortunate.
Have to If the punk found her what would he do? Heart racing toward a cliff, she couldnt think beyond the insanity her pursuer had instilled in her. Hide.
Shuffling backward, Eden scrambled along the curb until she stopped at a spinning tire attached to a battered SUV. The radio inside the car blasted a Jimmy Hendrix tune.
Bent over, she crept-walked around the front of the SUV and spied a magazine stand on the sidewalk. She dove to the ground behind the wooden rack, her position hidden from the accident scene.
The sound of a new crash, like rubber-soled boots landing on a trunk, set her rigid. Already her heart beat maniacally. She couldnt get more alert or tense.
Here, pretty, pretty.
It was the punk. Clasping her arms about her legs, she winced when her forearm crushed another cut below her knee. She would not cry. She must not make noise.
What would a man who had followed her through traffic, been thrown off a moving vehicle and was sorting through the scene of a wreckage want with her? No answer was good.
And any answer tested the boundaries of what was real and what could only be supernatural. Eden believed in beings not like herself. She had to, because she believed in angels.
The boots stomped the sidewalk not twenty feet from where Eden hid. She heard a snorting noise, like some kind of animal. He was sniffing. It was as if he were a wild cat stalking its prey.
She didnt like thinking that wordprey. Her gut clenched and she tried to stifle the uncontrollable need to sob.
Boot steps slowly approached. They paused and she heard a sniffing sound, as if he were testing the air. Then the boots jumped onto a vehicle and she heard metal crunch beneath them.
In the distance an ambulance siren wailed. Eden realized people from nearby shops had begun to step out and were gathering near the crashed cars.
Not here, the punk growled under his breath. Bitch got away. He landed on the asphalt. It sounded like he was walking away.
The back of Edens head fell against the boards behind her. She could be injured but she didnt care. It was a relief to know the creep had given up. Finally.
She scratched the itch on her forearm. As if a wasp sting, it burned worse than any of her cuts.
The crowd exhaled a coltective gasp, as if theyd witnessed something strange or horrible.
A pair of heavy leather biker boots landed on the sidewalk right next to Eden.
Chapter 2
The punk leaned over Eden, extending his hand for her to grasp. She fixated on the shiny steel bar pierced through his nose as if a bullring waiting for tether. His smile was wrinkled. It didnt meet his kaleidoscope eye. Nothing on his face was cohesive.
He did not speak, yet the eye not covered with the patch screamed at her. The promise of something vast and unfamiliar shouted from that eye. It frightened her.
And it compelled her.
Shed almost touched that feeling once. A year ago. Joy.
The crowd again gasped in unison as rubber peeled across the asphalt. Out of the corner of her eye, Eden saw a motorcycle do a one-eighty. The rumbling steel bike approached the accident too quickly. Surely it would crash
The rear tire stopped two feet from her legs.
The white-haired punk snarled and leaped away from her. It was a physically impossible move, because he soared straight up through the air, flipped in a backward somersault and landed on the other side of the crashed cab.
My lady, take my hand, commanded the black-leather-clad motorcyclist. If you want to be safe.
Too much happening. So much to register. But Eden heard safe and scrambled to her feet.
Yet she looked to the punk, standing poised to leap upon the hood of a stalled car. Still, his eye beckoned.
I can give you what you seek. If you dare to take it.
Now, my lady! the rider insisted.
Shaking from shoulders to legs, wanting to scream, and wondering why she could not physically make a sound, Eden was tugged onto the motorcycle behind the imposing man.
She recorded sensations only. The rough slide of leather under her palms as she groped to wrap her arms about his waist. The burn of the exhaust cylinder when she initially put her shoeless foot right on it.
The intense realization that the man was solid, hard and all muscle. Yes, safe.
The rider gripped her by the ankle and pulled her foot higher to hook behind his booted foot. She sucked in a gasp as his fingers clasped about her bare flesh. At this frantic moment it was too strange to feel desire, yet she did.