House Of Legions (The Angel Descendants book 1)

Chapter 8 (Clare)

Blazing hot lava, molten fire, dancing in his gaze, it was a live rhythm of red, orange, yellow, and black flames threatening to be unleashed. What the hell is this man? His eyes snapped shut and she realized with dread that she said that out loud, shoot, “Sorry.”

When he didn't look at her, knowing it was trite but she had to say something she added, “They are exquisite, like the sun at the height of its brightness.” You are exquisite, she completed to herself, with thick brows that are perfectly shaped.

Geared in a grey leather pants and a light shirt that hanged loosely on his body. Whilst a hilt of a dagger stuck out on the right of his pants wrapped in a chain sheath made out of gold and heavy metal. He looked as if he’d been born to wear this attire. It matched him perfectly.

She couldn’t say he looked ancient because he wasn’t. In fact the world seemed under developed and small for this warrior man.

The tall stranger stood there waiting for her to say something else, was that hope on his face. After what felt like hours getting lost in his lava gaze, she managed to get more control of herself and a thought struck her, “Hey, how do you know where I'm staying, do you know me?”

Clare felt flushed when he tightened his jaw line, his features sharp and pointy. He had the sexiest nose ever, a perfect slope, defining the crease on his lip.

However, the said lips didn't answer her question but warned her instead, “Whatever you saw tonight keep it to yourself, we wouldn’t want any awkward occurrences happening.”

She frowned staring in to his molten eyes, “What are you anyway?”

He flinched so quickly, she almost missed it, but she didn’t, nor did she miss the tension in his shoulders, “lets’ just say I’m special.”

Unconsciously she touched her shoulder with her right hand rubbing it, “Are the guys I saw at the church like you?”

He smiled as if holding a laugh, “No actually, they a lot like you.” He opened his mouth then closed it before a full tooth smile broke out, and holy was he beautiful, “Let's slow down with the questions!”

She blurted, “You not thinking about erasing my memory are you ? I hope not, I’ve watched some series with that shit and it ain't cool, but on second thought, if I have to choose between that and death, I think I’ll go with the first option. Oh gosh I'm rambling. I tend to do that, amongst other things but I'm sure you don't care, I’m not gonna see you again am I.” Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

He looked confused, and going by his slight gapped mouth, well, she wasn't going to look deep into that, “Okay, well.”

He shook his mane, naturally to clear his head, “If hypothetically you did supposedly tell anybody, they’d just think your crazy, now that, I’ve heard of.”

Examining her from head to toe he didn't change his pose, “You should eat more,” he muttered. She stared at him thinking maybe he was teasing her, but no, the guy was deadly serious.

His gaze paused on her chest, his breathing laboured, “Saving your life was a favour. I’m not interested in bedding you..”

What an arrogant prick, and to think she called him her saviour. Jack ass, she all but screamed in her head, “I asked a simple question. Sex wasn't in my question Angel-boy, and quit staring at my boobs.” When he didn't look away, she snarled, “All Braun and no brains, you are more like those crazies from the church than you think.”

He was amused by Clare’s sudden outburst which just pissed her off more. She ignored him and opened the gate. She walked four steps when he appeared in front of her. Startled, she jumped back,

hand on her chest, gawking at him.

His fiery vision burned her with intensity, regret, there was no smiling or amusement now, “I’m sorry, please, I wasn't trying to be rude. Just don't, aah.” He turned his back to her, then spun back around, his eyes narrowed, “Don’t expect much from me. You’d just be disappointed.”

Learning along time ago to hide her emotions she rolled her eyes, belying the lump stuck in her throat, that he actually apologized. He was the first one to ever utter those words to her, “Story of my life Angel-boy. Whatever, it's late. I really just wanna forget this night and I’ll keep your secret for saving me and all.”

His eyes widened and a worry frown marred his skin. Talking just loud enough that she could hear him, “Put some ice on that.”

He looked at her shoulder, “It’ll be fine in the morning, You’ll see me sooner than you think.”

His eyes sparkled with the light reflected from the moon, “Unfortunately for today our meeting is over, the others are waiting for me,” he turned his head, hair blocking his face, and laughed aloud as though he couldn’t believe his words.

Clare laughed a little too, she couldn’t explain it, but for some unknown reason, she couldn’t be upset with the guy. He did save her life even though he was a bit of an arrogant ass.

When she finally paid him more attention it was to notice he’d been staring at her, eyes wide in wonder, lips tight, nostril flared, “Goodbye Clarebella.” He bowed his head, turned his back, and walked out the gate. Which automatically opened for him.

She wasn't surprised by this, maybe she was too tired or just really good at supernatural shit, she didn't know. The only thing she was certain of as she walked the flight of stairs to the apartment was that he

called her, “Clarebella.” It didn’t sound bad, as she said it out loud. A tad bit too old school for her taste but she could deal.

After sneaking into the apartment she went straight to her room. Another teenager would have run to their parent, but not Clare, this was something she’d deal with herself. Her mother wouldn't know comfort, she wouldn't have the words Clare wanted to hear, she never did.

As Clare stripped and winced at every ache and pain in her body, she was well aware that her mother could fix the physical problems. Michelle Miller was the best general surgeon you could find, but Clare needed something deeper, she yearned for a mother’s touch. She wrapped her arms around her naked skin, swallowing the lodge in her throat. “If I can handle not knowing, I can handle anything.” She repeated the mantra until her breathing steadied. She wasn't a crier, no matter how bad she wanted to howl at times.

Thirty minutes later she lowered her naked form into the bathtub and relaxed. Closing her eyes, she tried not to think of her strange encounters. But the picture of the guy at the church kept popping in her head. He did look surprisingly similar to her, except for the hair.

There was more to it than that, Clare knew she had seen him somewhere. It was in the past year or so, but where. Then it hit her, it was on the Harvard website. So he was educated after all. She mentally added that to her checkout list, Nathan.

Feeling remotely better once she had on her pink and blue silk pajamas. She didn't dawdle around the room picking up her clothes, nope, she was wiped and barely managed to put the light off before she threw her body on the bed. Careful not to land on her injured side.

Her shoulder still throbbed from the fall, so she put a cushion underneath it, giving it some support. Clare rested silently in pain, thinking the worst about what would’ve happened if those guys in the car had taken her. They would’ve raped and killed her, that was certain. She felt the wetness on her cheek,

chastising herself for not paying attention, and now crying about it like a baby. She was blaming it solely on fear of the unknown.

Angel-boys faced popped in her head, he had saved her and for that, she’ll always be grateful. She was safe in her bed because God had answered her prayers. Her eyes grew heavy, but not before she realized that God was the answer to all her prayers.