Love Bites Then it Sucks, Julie Steimle [top 50 books to read .TXT] 📗

and distant. Almost disdainful toward Asahel.

“Yes, Sariel. She is still mortal and still feels hunger. She has got to be starving now, and I doubt she will be able to get past the hunger stage—”

“Because she is not like the elves,” cut in another voice, this one sardonic. “She still clings to her fleshy life.”

“Exactly,” Asahel said.

I frowned. Honestly, yes, I was hungry, but not starving. But what did he expect me to eat? I couldn’t bite a thing. But being immaterial made me feel less hungry.

A throat cleared. Then a familiar female voice piped up, “I hate to be a spoilsport to your amusement, but that demon isn’t as bloodthirsty as you make her out.”

The silence after (whom I was sure was the bag lady talking) felt heavy. I wasn’t sure why. Was it because she was objecting and had contradicted Asahel? Or was it because she was right, and Asahel didn’t like to hear it? I was hungry, I guess. But for real food. I couldn’t care less about blood. And it wasn’t a grumbling in my tummy as much as an itch. And wasn’t for the hot red liquid, even though I still had the inner urge to drink it if I could.

“And she has hardly figured out the rules,” another finally chimed in. “She barely knows how to light fly yet. When she gets up to speed, then you will have to worry.”

Harrumphing, Asahel retorted, “She will never get up to speed. I can promise that. She cannot let go of mortality.”

“That’s why she will be starving,” chimed in that sardonic voice again.

Let go of mortality… I hated that thought. Did I really have to? Mortality was what kept me connected to Hanz.

“I could kill a hotdog right now,” muttered one of the guardians up top.

“Get one later,” muttered the bag lady.

Get one later? My heart thumped a little harder in my chest. Did that mean there was a way to get food after all?

Harrumphing more, Asahel said, “You two could learn a lesson or two about letting go of mortality. Neither of you really need to be carrying along that much junk.”

“It’s a good cover,” the bag lady said.

The other one ‘Uh hmm’d, chiming in.

I wondered what they meant by that.

“Do you have anything else for us?” asked another of the guardians whom I had not heard before.

“Yes,” Asahel said with a getting-back-to-business voice. “Rumor has it that vampires have been spotted entering the city. Keep an eye out. I have a feeling the Order of Blood has ordered a hit on someone. There may be a death soon—or a conversion.”

“A conversion?” one of the guardians asked, not sure what that was.

I listened in also, guessing the meaning of that.

“That’s when a human becomes a vampire,” one of the other guardians replied.

I shuddered. That was what I thought. I knew about the Order of Blood. I had slain a large chunk of them, ridding them from the caves in the mountains near my hometown in California. They had not come back since. The Order of Blood despised me for it. But they had killed my birthfather, and they had feasted on so many hikers in our mountains that it had to be done. And the town was safer for it, besides.

“And you, keep a closer eye on that school,” Asahel said bitterly to one of them.

“It’s not my fault,” a bitter sounding guardian said. “I have to duck into shadows because of those three.”

“I thought there were four,” one of the others murmured.

“That female joined the CIA,” the bitter one replied. “She’s now at West End under the watch of Harold there.”

I smothered a chuckle. There was a guardian angel named Harold? As in a Harold angel? When I was a kid, I remembered hearing Christmas carols singing about herald angels while thinking their names were Harold and they loved to sing about a lady called Gloria who lived in some place called Eggshell-sea-us Day-o. I had long learned that it wasn’t so, but the name Harold had always made me laugh since.

“She’s also in frequent contact with that Tom Brown.”

I froze. They knew Tom Brown. I had met him once. Half-imp, half-human. Decent guy. Rick’s old private school roommate and good friend. He looked like a ghost with his platinum blonde hair and fair skin, but his smirk and orange eyes showed that his father was most definitely a little devil. The imps called him Trouble and they adored him. I knew he was a CIA agent, but I didn’t know where his actual home was. I had heard a rumor that his mother had just gotten out of prison after a ten year stint for armed robbery, but I didn’t know much else about him. Did he still live in New York City? I could send an imp to him, and he could contact Rick for me.

But I wondered if an imp would actually do that for me. Would it cause trouble? They only acted for me when mischief was caused.

“So is that kid, Mayhem,” the bitter angel said. “They work together outside the school. The kid is training to be a mechanic.”

My heart leapt. Roddy was here in New York. I totally forgot. I figured he was still terrified of me, but he was a good kid. And he would be going to Gulinger High.

“All the same, don’t neglect the school,” Asahel said. “That one possessed girl is going to break soon and—”

“And she is being guarded by those three,” the bitter guardian muttered. “So are you referring to a mortal ‘soon’ or an eternal ‘soon’?”

I wondered what he meant by that. What was a mortal ‘soon’?

Huffing, Asahel, replied, “Soon as in undetermined. Tell me, those three imps—what are they doing to keep the Lorelei in check?”

“Befriending her,” the bitter angel muttered.

Asahel exhaled. “Oh, so then this will be a later soon than an early soon. I see.”

None of that made sense to me.

“And he visits that school frequently,” the bitter one added.

“You know,” spoke up the cool and distant voice identified as Sariel, “for a guardian, you seem to hold an intense desire to end the life of that mortal. Perhaps you need a reminder of what your duty is?”

Asahel sighed. “Sariel, it is an old feud. They have been marked for death since birth. He is just frustrated.”

Who had been marked for death since birth? That sounded awful.

“And guardians have also been sent to preserve him,” spoke up Sariel. I could tell this was an argument starting.

“Including those demons…” the bitter guardian muttered.

“God works in mysterious ways,” the bag lady wistfully muttered.

 I nodded to myself, agreeing. And I decided to go. I wanted to see a piece of the city before I was shoved back into my little territory again to reap the depressingly dying.

Pushing off the building, I soared toward what I guessed to be Central Park. I was glad no one could see me, though I wondered how soon the angels of the area would detect me. Us meeting was sure to end in a fight, but I wanted to get a look around. It was night, so foot traffic was less. People were being more cautious while others were taking advantage of the dark to commit crimes. I overheard several kinds of shouts down below, many of them full of trouble as the imps screamed for attention.

But then I heard one imp bellow, “Just shoot him in the face!”

There were no guardian angels on duty down there. I knew they were still up top that skyscraper. Were they even aware of what was going on on the ground?

I tore down there on my giant wings, landing in front of a plain-clothed cop whom the other guy with a gun had just fired at. With my scythe, I knocked the bullets away and stood my ground.

Immediately I felt a pain shoot into my shoulder, and one grazed my left ear.

“Holy cr—Eve get out of the way!” a familiar voice shouted at me.

I turned with a look to the one shouting then rushed, him, pushing him to the ground where he had cover from flying bullets.

“Die you moth f—” The shooter let off another round.

I rose. This time, letting the bullets fly through me, I approached him (who could not see me) and with my hand stroked up the back of his neck.

He shuddered, nearly dropping his gun.

That moment gave the police the chance to rush him and take him down. I merely stepped out of the way.

Holstering his gun, the man whose voice I had recognized, rose off the ground and walked over to me. “Eve, what are you doing here? Are you ok? You’ve got—”

“I’m fine,” I said, turning to gaze into his face. I smiled. Recognizing my old friend Matthew Calamori, his tousled brown hair and beautiful Italian grin, he was a sight for sore eyes. I had not really seen him in years, though he still looked the part of a super-cool detective.

“Did you get shot?” He reached out to check my wounds, though I backed from his touch. “What are you doing in New York?”

The ruckus around us continued, though some of the cops looked at Matthew funny.

“Who’s he talking to?” one of them hissed to another.

That’s when it hit me. Matthew could see me, and he was not a ghost. They could all see him, after all, but not me.

Matthew even glanced at them, puzzled. He reached out to pull me to the side, but I ducked from his reach again.

“You shouldn’t touch me,” I said, standing my scythe to the side to make it obvious to him.

But he did not seem to see it. Only me. “Why not?”

With comprehension, I blinked, “How come you can see me?”

He stared more. “You’re kidding, right? I saw you fly down and somehow fight off his bullets. But you got hit—which is weird. And you’re bleeding.” He reached out to touch my wound. “We need a medic!”

I pulled back before he could make contact. “Don’t touch me, Matthew. I’m no longer what I used to be.”

He stared at me, retracting his hand. “What do you mean?”

“They didn’t tell you?” I drew in a breath. Had Hanz not told the Seven about the letter? “My wedding with Hanz. It’s cancelled.”

Matthew nodded. “I heard a rumor, and I had wanted to come, but… Wait. What do you mean it is cancelled? You were head-over-heels for that guy.”

I nodded. “I am. But didn’t they tell you what happened? Why it was cancelled?”

Matthew looked puzzled. “They? As in Hanz or your family?”

Staring, I shook my head. “No. The Seven. The Holy Seven. Hanz was supposed to have told the Holy Seven about what had happened to me.”

This time his eyes widened. “Wait a second. You mean that was why Jessica and the others all went to California early?”

I could not believe it. They had not told Matthew about it. But then I realized that of course they would not have told Matthew. I had not requested it, and Hanz had to be a terrible mental state. I had to tell him. “Matthew, I’ve been turned into—”

But Asahel and the other two gray angels seized me, ripping me straight into the sky.

“HEY!”

“What did I say about keeping the rules?” Asahel bellowed at me while I felt my arms nearly get yanked from their sockets.

“Ow! Let go of me you tyrant!” I kicked at his shins. My foot struck leg and he yelped, jerking away. Apparently fast flying was not the same as fast dodging.

The other two gray angels braced me back from him as he let go. We halted high over the city

“Why did you go there?” Asahel bellowed.

“There was a shooting!” I snapped back, pointing down.

“It’s not your territory,” said the angel bracing my right. I looked to him. He had the face of a statue. It was expressionless and looked like it had been carved out of granite. His eyes were that cold. He had to be Sariel.

“I was