Chapter Three

 

Juliet inserted the quarters into the slot and pushed the lever. The washing machine jumped into motion, the water filling the tub. She couldn’t wait until her washer and dryer were delivered to the apartment and the Laundromat was a thing of the past.

“Auntie Jules?” Owen had made himself at home with his comic books on one of the seats lined against the wall.

“Hmm?” She opened another machine to do a load of whites.

“When will my father come to visit again?”

Startled at his question, her hand slipped and the lid to the washer slammed shut with a bang. She took a deep breath before she faced him, bracing herself for an onslaught of questions she couldn’t readily answer.

Owen’s pale strands looked almost white against the healthy peach color of his skin. He tilted his head to the side, the gesture reminding her of her sister Marie, his mother, but his eyes were Raziel’s. They were the striking silver-blue too bright to be anything other than angelic. Owen knew his father was… different. They talked about Otherworldly beings, but she hadn’t told him the whole truth.

Raziel wanted to be the one to tell him when he was older. Owen would be ten next month. The Archangel needed to tell him soon. “Your father will visit on your birthday.”

Owen’s right eyebrow rose in an arch, another trait of her sisters. “Do you think he’ll remember?”

He better. “He will.” She smiled trying to reassure him. Owen looked like any normal boy his age, all limbs and skinned up knees, but he wasn’t human. He was Nephilim and he needed his father’s guidance when he went through the Awakening, the time when he got his wings. Nephilim matured anywhere between twelve and nineteen. Already the boney nubs on Owen’s back had grown. It was rotten luck that Owen would probably be an early bloomer. He was young and he needed to keep his true-self hidden. She feared youth would make him forget and he would reveal himself to the wrong person. “Your father promised.”

Owen sniffled. His hand slid into his pocket, pulling out a Kleenex to blow his nose. His chronic runny nose proved another sign the change was coming.

“Auntie Jules?”

“Yes.”

“There’s a guy staring at us.” He pointed toward the front door.

Her brows furrowed as she turned to see what her nephew meant. Sure enough a man stood just outside the door, peering in at them with intent purpose. His broad shoulders and wide chest were complimented by a narrow waist and lean hips. His hair was worn long, scraping the collar of his shirt in luscious waves of golden wheat. He looked like he’d been in a fight recently and yet his chiseled features were too beautiful for the rugged man.

His gaze leveled on her with such intensity, it made her think he’d been looking for her and his search had finally ended.

Her nerves danced and her stomach did a quick somersault as the man’s hand went for the door handle and pushed. She took a step forward to meet him. It was imperative she found out what he wanted. You. He wants you. The words whispered in her ear.

“Auntie Jules, do you know them?”

Them? That sobered her and she halted her steps. She hadn’t noticed the other man there until now. Her gaze shifted over him. Tall, lean and with auburn hair. “Nephilim.”