Angel Slayer. Michele Hauf

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      “That!” He gestured angrily toward the painting. “You’ve quite the talent. One could call it a preternatural talent.”

      “You think?” Heartbeats skipping, Eden beamed at the painting. No one had ever labeled her work that way. She was the only one who believed she had—

       Stop it, Eden. He hasn’t a clue. Do not make a fool of yourself.

      “If I were of the mind to purchase I’d buy them all,” he remarked, “but unfortunately I’ve 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 hadn’t a clue, and she didn’t 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 I’m going to sneak out, though. I’ve been here six hours. Need to sit and put my feet up. See you tomorrow evening for part deux of Eden Campbell’s fabulous debut.”

      “I’ll be here. But it’ll be a close call. I’ve 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 man’s 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 father’s limo, always at her disposal, but the driver’s son turned twelve today, so she’d given him the day off. She wasn’t 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 wasn’t red so it couldn’t 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 man’s intent path toward her, Eden rushed for the cab’s 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. That’s 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 cat’s 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. “There’s 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 the—No! I’ve never seen the guy before.”

      “They’re all a bunch of crazies. Where to?”

      “Just drive!”

      She shuffled upright on the seat and looked out the rear window. The punk’s arms pumped vigorously.

      “He’s running after us!” He couldn’t possibly catch a car on foot, could he? “Take the next left turn. Don’t slow down or let him catch up.”

      “Yes, ma’am. A car chase. Haven’t done one of those in a while.”

      “Yeah? There’s a big tip in it for you if you lose the guy.”

      “He’s 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 he’d do that? Oh my God, I wonder if he has

      AIDS? No, I couldn’t get it that way. What are you doing? I said don’t stop!”

      “Sorry, СКАЧАТЬ