Angel's Kiss

By Lynne Stevie

Alexandria Hayes-Lewis was blessed with the perfect life. By day she managed her family’s detective agency in Seravan, the beautiful beach town where she was born and raised. By night she made love to her devilishly handsome husband.

Lexie never knew she’d been marked at birth by an Angel's Kiss—until one ordinary case turned deadly.

A brutal attack awakens a deeply hidden family legacy: a superhuman strength and vitality. Not only is she stronger—her gift also increases the power of immortal beings. With the secrets of her heritage unlocked, and her legacy revealed, Lexie becomes the prey.

Terrified by changes she doesn’t understand and sensual nightmares she can’t control, Lexie desperately searches for ways to harness the power flowing through her veins. But when people die and her family is threatened, she takes the ultimate step against those who want to shield her, those who want to possess her, and those who want to kill her. In a frantic bid for freedom, she enlists the help of an unusual guardian and an ancient weapon.

Will it be enough to save her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lynne Stevie
• Release date: Jul 20, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476093338

Lynne Stevie

Hi fellow readers. I was raised on a small farm in the Midwest, at a time when there were only 3 television stations. Oh the horror!Growing up miles away from any other families gave me the opportunity to hone my imagination and plenty of time to read.After earning a bachelor degree in Criminology I married my college sweetheart and traded farm country for the sugar white beaches of the Florida Panhandle. Now I spend my time writing and taking care of my three children, two dogs, one guinea pig and my terrific husband.

Book preview

ANGEL’S KISS

by

LYNNE STEVIE

ANGEL’S KISS

Copyright © 2012 by Lynne Stevie

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

To Sophia

Never lose your imagination!

Acknowledgements

A HUGE thank you goes to my friend and mentor Best Selling Author Traci Hohenstein. You read my one page, single spaced dream scene and said, WOW, I like this, keep writing. I still have that one page and that one scene grew into this novel Angel’s Kiss. Thank you for not letting me quit and for helping me be a better writer, editor, and PR person.

A special thanks to my first readers Shane Frampton and Laurel Abbe. I am grateful that you liked it even in its messy stages and I hope you like the polished version even more. A big shout out to Kay Keppler for being a wonderful editor and for helping me corral my ideas. Any mistakes in this book are not her fault, but mine, because I didn’t listen to her.

And an extra special thank you to my wonderful husband and family who never said, You can’t write a book. Your encouragement helped me through the late nights and early morning writing sessions. I love you all!

TABLE OF CONTENTS

COVER

TITLE

DEDICATION

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

ANGEL’S KISS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

BIOGRAPHY

BACK COVER

ANGEL’S KISS

Chapter 1

Carried Away

I watched my prey in the mirrored wall behind the bar, hoping I wouldn’t be recognized. My disguise was good, but in our small Gulf-side resort town, everyone knows each other. Plus, as a descendant of the founding family of Serevan my family and name, Alexandria Hayes-Lewis, are well known. The last thing I needed was for a friend or a business acquaintance to recognize me and start asking questions about why I was out alone tonight. This was my last chance to catch this cheating bastard and I didn’t want anything to screw it up.

The man in my sights, Philip Janeck, had just finished dinner. While watching him tonight, I had to admit our client Mrs. Palma Janeck had a good eye for man candy. Tall, dark, and handsome, oh my! He was over six feet tall with a chiseled jaw and dark wavy hair that looked so silky even I wanted to run my fingers through it.

My bar stool was close enough to Janeck’s table that I could hear bits and pieces of the conversation he and his friend were having. I caught phrases like Big Ten and SEC. I had to work hard not to yawn as they bantered. As boring as I found their conversation, I noted that Janeck sounded reasonably intelligent, which worried me. I hoped he hadn’t figured out I was bait.

Frustrated he hadn’t hit on me yet, I twirled the rich, buttery wine in the delicate crystal glass that was in front of me. When I noticed him sit back in his seat, I adjusted my position on the bar stool. I moved to keep him in view, but also to make my skirt rise and show off the lace at the top of my thigh-high hose. I needed to get his attention if this evening was going to be a success.

Can I get you anything else? The bartender startled me with his deep voice.

Oh. No thanks. Just the check, please. And get out of my way, I thought as I smiled up at him. He’d parked himself right in my line of sight.

I hope your friend’s okay. The bartender said as he motioned to the empty seat beside me. It took me a minute to remember I’d told him I was waiting for someone in order to keep the seat open.

Thanks, he’s fine. I just got a text, I touched my Blackberry on the bar. Something came up, we’re meeting later. My target’s head popped up. Where was he going? If he was leaving, I was screwed. I leaned in a little to get a better view.

It’s a crime that he left you sitting all alone, the bartender continued.

Crap, I’m attracting the wrong man. Now that I thought about it, he’d asked several times about my friend. I thought he just wanted the seat for a paying customer, but I knew he wasn’t concerned about the customers right now.

I was going to head home, but I hate to see you drinking alone. The bartender was leaning over the bar now, too, and I could smell his cologne. Over his shoulder I saw my target turn toward the restrooms. So he wasn’t leaving yet. Would you like some company tonight? I’m off in…

Excuse me. I cut him off as I slid down from my stool and headed toward the restrooms. I needed to get in front of Philip and get his attention. I’d been trying to hook this bastard for a week. He wasn’t going to slip through my fingers again.

I caught him as he was leaving the men’s room. I pretended to stumble over my own feet, and grabbed his arm for support.

Whoa, he said. I must have surprised him, but he stood firm as I barreled into him.

Oh, I’m soo sorry. I righted myself, but I didn’t let go of his arm. Thanks for catching me. I looked up at him using my best doe-eyed look. I guess I shouldn’t have had that second glass of wine, he, he, he. Ugh, that sounded pathetic even to me.

I’m glad to be of service. Are you all right? He placed his other hand on top of mine, and I noticed a spark of interest in his eye. Sweet, now we’re getting somewhere.

I could be…better? I looked up into his brown eyes and licked my dark burgundy lips.

Hmm, he leaned over to whisper in my ear, you have no idea how much I’d love to help you feel better...right now. Heat flooded my system and if I didn’t know better, I’d say I was drunk. However, he looked back at his friend, another time perhaps? My head felt fuzzy and little prickles of goose flesh were breaking out all over my body. He straightened up and pressed his hand down where it held mine on his arm. Then he turned and walked back toward his table.

I stumbled into the ladies room to recoup. Well, that went totally wrong. I’d been in control until he whispered in my ear. What the hell happened?

I looked in the mirror and my face was beet red. Blushing, are you kidding me? I fanned my face, trying to cool off. Shaking myself in a vain attempt to clear my head, I hurried out. My target was leaving as I took my seat. He caught my gaze in the mirror and I quickly looked away.

Wha, ha, ha. His laugh floated through the room and I felt the flame of my blush all the way to my toes. I sat stupefied as he walked out of the restaurant.

When the door clicked shut, I picked up my phone from the bar and pressed J. As I waited, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My cheeks were still red, and I was biting my lip while my nails tapped out chopsticks on the bar. I was acting like a school girl with her first crush.

That’s enough. I sat up straight and pulled my fingers into a fist. Time I got back to acting like a professional.

Yeah, boss, Joey answered.

Sorry, you won’t need your camera tonight. I didn’t let Joey get in a response. Can you follow? Riley’s waiting at the house to take over once he gets there.

Yeah, I’m on it. I heard his car start. What happened?

Nothing, just… I noticed the bartender watching me. Thanks honey. I raised my voice a little. I’ll tell you about it later. Okay?

Got it. The line went dead.

Thanks. I motioned to the bartender without making eye contact. With my thoughts swimming as I pulled out some cash, left it on the bar and made my way to the door. The host opened the door and the warm night air surrounded me, taking my breath as I stepped out into the empty strip mall parking lot. The beginning of October and still there was no relief from the southern heat. I spotted my car, but I also caught sight of the open sign at Miss Lucy’s Gossip Parlor. Maybe a cup of coffee would clear my head.

Lexie! Decaf-grande-mocha!" the Goth apparition behind the huge espresso makers yelled.

I looked around the coffee shop; I was the only person in here. What’s with the yelling and the look—coal-black hair and a ring through his nose? Really, his parents must be proud. I tried to hide my chuckle as I grabbed the coffee and left a tip. Poor kid looked crazy out of place in our little patch of southern coastline that we affectionately called the Redneck Riviera.

The smell of coffee cleared a path in my brain and the first sip was heavenly, just what I needed. Mmm, the contented sound slipped from my lips. I made a bee-line for the Help-Yourself-Cocoa and stirred in a generous helping as I thought about the evening.

Proving that a man is a cheating bastard is one of my least favorite jobs to work. But my family’s firm, Haynes and Haynes Investigations, has been taking domestic cases since before I was born. I know mom and dad never liked domestic cases any more than I do, but I doubt if couples will ever stop cheating on each other, so there’s job security.

Usually, catching a guy is easy money for me. Show a little leg; mention that you’re vacationing alone. Boom! They’re paying the tab and escorting you back to your hotel. Joey, my photographer does his job and snaps a couple of good pictures before we enter the room. I tell the guy that I had a change of heart, Oh woe is me, and I can’t go through with it. He leaves. I deliver the pictures to the wounded spouse, and boom, we’ve earned our fee. It’s sad, really; nine times out of ten, if the wife’s away, the man will stray. Thank heaven I found my husband Alan and don’t have to worry about all this drama; he’s my rock.

My target tonight, Philip Janeck, is proving to be more difficult than most. Damn, I thought I had him tonight. There was no missing that sexy look in his eye as he leaned in to whisper in my ear. What stopped him? ‘Another time perhaps,’ he’d said. What did that mean? He didn’t ask for my name or number; how were we supposed to meet another time? I capped my coffee and hobbled out the door. My new heels were beautiful, but I’d give anything for a pair of Teva’s right about now.

Mrs. Janeck was right to be suspicious; her husband is way too smooth not to have women flocking after him. What would have possessed her to marry him? Okay, I mean I get that he’s hot, realllly hot. At 6'2" with dark wavy hair and an ex pro surfer’s body, he’s a poster boy for tall, dark, and handsome. Plus, that voice…ooooh. I felt a little tingle at just the thought of his voice. But with all her money, you would think she’d have more sense.

Sense—I’d made a joke, a lame one. Money…cents. Man, was that corny. Dad would have loved it, though. I wished he were here. My heart ached at the thought of him. Man, I am tired.

As I made my way to my Jeep, my phone broke into my melancholy thoughts. I began the delicate job of balancing my coffee while searching for my keys and phone. Oh well, at least the phone was easy to find in my itty-bitty purse. I pressed the green button and put the phone to my ear.

What’s the word? The deep bass of Ottie’s voice filled my ear.

Ottie, or Alden Jones, according to his Social Security card, is my partner at Haynes and Haynes Investigations. True to form, he didn’t even wait for me to say hello before he started grilling me.

Hello to you too, Ottie, I said, my voice dripping with honey. Teasing him about his manners is fun, but I also hated to break the news that we didn’t get Philip Janeck.

Did Joey get some good pics of the husband? he asked, his voice was thick with excitement. Did he put up a fight? That red wig you wear to disguise yourself is the cat’s meow. You own the room when you wear that thing; they say men go for blondes, but…

Ottie’s little rant was cut short as my phone flew from my hand. Dazed, I watched my coffee spill out of my cup before I realized my feet had left the ground. The air whooshed out of my lungs as somebody yanked me backward. I had the sensation of riding a roller coaster. I could feel the wind against my neck and my body being pushed into the restraining bar. After a moment of disorientation, I realized that I wasn’t on a roller coaster. Someone had taken me so fast I hadn’t had time to even scream. I was being carried off like a naughty child.

I am not a child.

Hell! I’ve taught self-defense. I threw my head back to use his weight against him. Nothing. Then I tried a classic Krav Maga twisting move. He didn’t notice.

At 5'6" and 120 pounds I’m used to being the smallest in the match, and I’ve learned that in real life you don’t lose points for fighting dirty. I keep my nails short, but they’re still a weapon. I clawed at his arm. His long-sleeve shirt was in tatters by the time I finished, but his arm still felt as solid and smooth as PVC piping. I tried to pry back his fingers. He didn’t even flinch.

Exhausted from my struggles, I decided to stop fighting and conserve my energy. Instead I tried to focus on my surroundings, but we were moving too fast to recognize anything. I couldn’t even see the pavement below his feet.

I must have been in la-la land, because the jolt as we came to a halt had me dangling from his arm like a rag doll. Maybe I hit my head when he snatched me, but it felt like we had been flying and just crash landed. My brain was ringing inside its cage and I was nauseated. I guess my stomach hadn’t kept up with my body. If he let go of me now, I would end up in a pile at his feet.

Now that we were stopped, I focused on my surroundings. The air felt damp and smelled like salt and seaweed. I tried to straighten up as I heard the sound of waves crashing. We were at the beach? The restaurant was over five miles from the beach. How…?

Focus, I told myself. Get away first. Then you can figure out how he managed to carry you all the way to the water in just minutes.

He held me with my back against his chest. Only the tips of my toes were touching the ground. His strength was unbelievable. Using just one arm he’d managed to capture both of mine and pin them to my sides. I could feel his breath on my neck, so he couldn’t be that much taller than me, but his arms were holding me as if I weighed nothing. As I registered the panic in my own breathing, I realized that he wasn’t breathing hard at all. Just as I was considering bashing my head into his nose, he forced my head to the side and caressed my neck like a lover.

Just a little taste for my trouble, he whispered against my skin.

His breath was like an ice cold wind, and it made the hair on my arms stand up. I shivered at the hunger in his voice and felt his teeth brush my neck. Then I felt the pop of my skin giving way under his teeth and something clicked inside me. Every point of skin-on-skin contact burned as if a tiny flame had been lit to combat his cold touch. The blood pulsed in my finger tips and my heart sped wildly. I screamed in rage.

And then I got an idea. The heels!

He raised his head from my neck and began to turn me around to face him. When he moved, I slammed all my weight down on my right leg, forcing the stiletto heel of my prized Manolo Blahniks into his foot. I heard his breath leave his throat in a hiss and I was thankful for the expensive well-made pointy heels. His hands dug into my arms as he tried to turn me faster to face him. As I spun, I lifted my foot and grasped my shoe, wrenching it off. My vision blurred as I spun with my improvised weapon. The tiny fires that crackled under my skin erupted, like fire ants marching inside my veins.

Pain burst inside me. A jolt reverberated through my arm, letting me know that I’d hit something. Stars danced in front of my eyes, and I struggled against the pain and the blackness and the pounding in my head. Then I realized that my arms were swinging freely. He’d let go of me!

This was my chance to get away. My vision was blurry, but through sheer force of will I got a glimpse of him. He had dark, messy hair and lips so red the rest of his face seemed invisible. With a shock I realized I was crouched three feet in front of him ready for another attack. How did I get away from him? Why was the blood in my veins searing me from the inside out? I tried to hold on to consciousness, but I couldn’t.

As I collapsed I watched a look of confusion and surprise came over his face as he pulled my four-inch stiletto out of his temple.

Chapter 2

The Morning After

Ahh...it’s so bright. I can’t sleep. Damn it. Alan left the blinds open again. I moved my arm to cover my eyes while I reached for the covers with my other hand. Ugh, where are the covers?

There weren’t any covers, because I wasn’t in a bed. I seemed to be...on a roof.

Oh God! I said, sitting up so fast that my head rang. My hands moved over my body, taking inventory. Face—okay, arms—okay, clothes still on—grrreat, legs—still in working order. I’m okay. I closed my eyes in a silent prayer and let out the breath I didn’t even know I was holding. Although the heat coming off the flat tar roof was uncomfortable, I took in another breath and I realized I felt terrific. I should be freaking out since I just woke up on a roof, but I was just happy to be all in one piece and fully clothed.

I could hear sea gulls squawking nearby—and not just the gulls, but also the rustle of sea oats and crabs scuffling around the dunes. The air wafting over me was heavy with salt and moisture; I could almost taste the ocean. All of these sensations assaulted me at once and for a moment, I was overloaded by the smells, sounds, and textures. I knew where I was and then…I remembered the dark-haired man with my shoe stuck in his temple.

Was I still in danger? I jumped to my feet and surveyed the area. The roof I was on seemed to be surrounded by a wall, but I was up here alone, at least. Any doubt that I had been attacked went right out the window when I realized I was missing a shoe.

Shit! Those were brand new Manolo Blahniks! I mean, they were on sale, but still! Okay. Stop worrying about the shoes, Lexie. Get a grip. First things first. Find a way down, and then get help.

I’ll call Alan. Where was my purse? I looked around, hoping the purse would be with me. Shit! Shit! And double shit!! It was gone. I’d have to go to the DMV and get another copy of my investigators license. He got my favorite lipstick, and my Blackberry. Crap!

Bastard, I spat. I forced myself to take a deep breath. First things first. I took off my remaining shoe and hiked up my skirt, pulled off my ruined hose, and squished them into my shoe. After I’d done that, I stood a little straighter, smoothed down my skirt, and felt better. At least I didn’t look like a victim anymore. I’m not sure why, but that was very important to me.

I looked for a way down. How did my attacker get me up here in the first place? Something caught my eye—two posts sticking up above the wall that surrounded the roof. I walked toward them, hoping they’d lead down. The roof felt springy under my feet, like that new rubber bark all the playgrounds were using. Fun! I felt like a ballet dancer—strong, lean, and nimble. I wondered how long I’d slept.

Thinking about the time made me check for my watch, which was still on my arm and still working. Thank goodness for small miracles. It was 6:45am. For a split second, I wished for a cup of coffee, my drug of choice, longingly remembering my mocha from last night.

Had I been drugged? Maybe the little shit behind the counter slipped something in my mocha. They must have been working together, the attacker and the coffee shop employee. How else could someone have towed me all the way to the beach and up here without my remembering?

But that didn’t ring true. I’d only had one sip of the coffee before it spilled out of my cup.

The two posts that had caught my eye were part of a telescoping ladder that descended to some scaffolding and another ladder. I worked my way down three stories and found myself in a parking lot full of construction equipment. The workers should be here soon. Dennis, my brother, usually started his crews around 7am, even in the fall. I hope whoever shows up first doesn’t think I’m just some crazy lady carrying one shoe. And hopefully, they’d have a phone.

I cringed as I remembered the guy with my stiletto stuck in his head. Was I strong enough to have impaled him with a shoe? And if so, where was he? Because, if I’d stuck a four-inch heel in his temple, he certainly wouldn’t have just walked away.

Maybe I was in shock, and the horror of what happened would hit me once I knew I was safe. I hoped my mind would keep protecting me until I got home. I didn’t want to have a meltdown in front of people I didn’t know.

Hold it together, Lexie, I whispered to myself.

Hey, lady! A deep voice bellowed. A big guy in a hard hat had arrived. My knight in shining armor. He yelled as he crossed the parking lot.

What are you doing inside this construction zone? It’s dangerous! There’re no trespassing signs everywhere!

I was leaning against the temporary power pole holding my shoe, hugging myself. It was a chilly morning, I felt exposed and not just because of the sheer blouse and short skirt I wore. I watched his anger soften and his stomping boots slow as he got close enough to really see me.

Lady—are you okay? He asked, taking his hard hat off and putting it under his arm. That simple gesture made me feel better, a southern gentlemen taking his hat off for a lady. He must be a local contractor. He held his hands out as if he thought I might fall over. Boy, I must look bad. Strange, because I feel like I could take on The Times crossword puzzle and actually, not have to cheat. I must be in shock.

What happened? Do you need me to call someone? Are you hurt? Then he answered himself by pulling his phone out and dialing 911. Before I could speak, he was reporting the incident and asking for EMTs. He’s probably right, I thought. The police need to know about this guy before he attacks someone else. But what could I tell them? I didn’t even get a good look at his face.

I looked back up at the commercial building. The guy who carried me up there had to have been incredibly strong, because carrying dead weight three stories up is not for weaklings. And that ladder-scaffold concoction that I’d climbed down was tricky. Why couldn’t I remember that climb? My construction worker/knight in shining armor finished the call.

Yes sir, I’ll stay with her until they arrive, thank you. He snapped the phone shut and looked at me as if he was afraid to say anything because I might fall to pieces.

Sir, could I use your phone to call my husband? All I could think about was getting home. The man who attacked me took my purse and...

Oh yes—yes please, he said handing me the phone before I could finish.

I hoped Alan had gone to bed early last night and wasn’t up worrying. He’s a freelance writer, so he almost never has to get out of bed early. He’s a night owl, reading and writing until past midnight on most days.

Yeah. He answered on the first ring. Not a good sign.

It’s me. I’m okay, I said, trying to sound okay.

Lexie? Where are you? What happened? Why don’t you have your phone? Ottie and I have been trying to reach you and...

Alan, I said forcibly. I’m okay. Hold on. I should have paid attention when my friend here was telling the police our location. I asked him.

"Excuse me, sir. Where are we? Old Beach Road and…

Yes ma’am, we’re at The Hotel Sea Crest, intersection of Shore Drive and Old Beach Road. And my name’s Shane. He was still holding his hard hat under his arm and looking at me as if he was scared I’d start crying.

Thanks Shane…for everything, I said with a small smile on my face.

Lexie, are you there? Talk to me! Lexie? Alan’s voice drew me back to the phone.

I’m here. I’m at the old Sea Crest Hotel, corner of Shore Drive and the old Beach Road. Can you…come get me?

Honey, I’m already in the car. How did you get way over there? Ottie called after you guys got disconnected to let me know that you were on your way home. When you didn’t get home by midnight, I went out looking for you. Are you really okay? I’ve been going crazy. I found your car. Was it you who spilled coffee all over the roof?

I’m okay, at least I...I think I am. It was just a mugger. Did you see my purse? Then I wondered again if the coffee had been drugged. Alan, call Ottie and have him see if he can find my cup and get a sample of that coffee, I want to have it checked.

I’ll let him know. And no, I didn’t see your purse. Honey, I’m on my way. We’ll figure this out, don’t worry. Sirens? I hear sirens. Are you hurt?

This nice man, Shane, called 911 when he found me on the construction site. I’m not hurt, just come and get me. I reeeally don’t want to deal with the cops and medics on my own.

After replaying the attack twice for Officer Maloran, I was ready to go. I told him everything I could remember. Although, I left out the part about my blood boiling and seeing the attacker with my shoe sticking out the side of his head. It seemed too crazy to say out loud. I just said that I hit him with it and now I couldn’t find it. He listened and jotted down notes while I talked. Nice guy, but his cologne was killing my nose and he needed to brush his teeth.

Miss Lewis…

Mrs. Alan corrected him.

I rolled my eyes. I hate it when Alan gets all possessive. But