Portia

Chapter 2

2

I quickly find the office. It’s the only one with a snarky poster on the door: a pic of a rainstorm with a caption that reads ‘Purgatory, because sunshine is for losers.’

I knock lightly. “Hello, Pops? Are you here?”

No response.

The door’s unlocked so I walk right in. The place is decorated in all manly man stuff: leather club chairs, recessed lighting, and dark violet walls. There’s even a wide balcony that makes it easier for him to land, angel-style.

I spot the alchemy books right away. The leather-bound volumes sit in a neat stack on his mahogany desk. I gently turn the old vellum pages and marvel at the illustrations. Reading a book is like coming home. Everything’s warm and cozy. If only people could be that way.

Something rustles on the balcony. I set aside the book to check things out. Peering through the balcony’s glass doors, I find someone waiting outside: a muscular guy with black tousled hair. He wears jeans, biker boots, and a leather jacket. He’s a total bad boy and a handsome one, too.

Wait, what?

I never go for the bad boy type. I like my men clean-shaven and buttoned up with nothing out of place. You know, the kind of guy who irons his jeans. Sure, those men look at me in horror, but at least they’re usually polite about it. I consider that a win.

I frown. Chances are, this guy will react the same as all the others. I should walk away. There’s a reason I’m nineteen and I’ve never had a full conversation with a man who’s not a relative. I nod once to myself, the decision made. I am definitely leaving right now.

For some reason, I don’t go anywhere.

Instead, I keep right on staring. The guy leans casually against the outer wall of the mansion, his right boot propped against the brick siding. His long, black tail sways lazily behind him. I give myself a mental kick in the butt.

You need to leave. Go, go, go!

I do no such thing.

Not only do I stay in place; I try for a better view. No matter how I shift, I can’t see the guy’s face. My skin tingles with curiosity.

Screw it. I’m going in.

Part of me knows that this is a big mistake, but I can’t stop myself for some reason. With silent steps, I walk onto the balcony. Instantly, an electric awareness charges the air between us. The guy starts turning toward me, and then stops. Moving slightly, he refocuses his gaze on the line of trees. Rain patters on the tin canopy that stretches above our heads.

There’s no question about it. I saw that half-look. This guy totally knows I’m here. Still, he doesn’t turn to greet me. Instead, he stares off into the trees, his tousled black hair hanging over his eyes.

For a full minute, I look the guy over. He’s well over six feet tall with broad shoulders that are more than twice as wide as mine. From the way he stands to the set of his jawline, every inch of him exudes confidence, power, and trouble.

“Hi.” My voice comes out about an octave higher than normal.

Smooth, Portia.

The Mystery Man slowly turns to face me. At last, I get the close-up I’ve been craving. The man has intelligent brown eyes, a nose that’s been broken a few times, and scar along his strong jawline. The imperfections only make him more appealing. He watches my stare and bit by bit, his full mouth arches into a crooked smile. Butterflies take up residence in my stomach.

“Hullo, luv.” His accent is British, deep and hypnotic. Surprisingly, those words aren’t accompanied by any signs of terror. It’s dumbfounding. I stare at him for way too long without saying anything.

Start talking, Portia.

I revert to the basics. This is Pops’ office, after all. “Is the Archangel Xavier expecting you?”

A mischievous light twinkles in his liquid-brown eyes. “Without a doubt. Are you here to keep me company while I wait?”

A jolt of happiness moves through me. He doesn’t seem frightened of me, but maybe he hasn’t noticed my marks yet. It’s a little dark out here.

“Sure, I can stay with you, but…” I gesture around my eye and wince, waiting for the terrified look to cross his face. “That’s only if you don’t mind.”

His smile doesn’t waver. “That you’re a Princess?”

“What?” I must have heard him wrong. “Did you say Princess?”

“That I did. Princess Portia. That’s you, isn’t it?”

“Sure, that’s me. That’s not what I meant, though. It’s my marks. They make everyone nervous. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Not that you look uncomfortable. I was just checking.”

Wow. Babble much?

I decide that now is a great time to look at my sensible shoes and plot my quick escape.

“Portia, look at me.”

I slowly lift my gaze. Mystery Man fixes me with a stare that’s so intense it could cut diamonds. “Please keep me company.”

I’ve never done drugs, but they might feel something like the rush of happy that those words bring to my soul. “Sure. I can stay.”

“Good.” His grin returns. My knees go wobbly.

The quiet that follows is somehow comforting. More like a warm blanket than the awkward silence that usually happens when I talk to guys. My gaze lands on his tail. Mom has one like his, as does every decent Arena fighter in Purgatory. “Are you from around here?”

He lets out a low chuckle. “Not in the slightest.”

I look at him expectantly.

“You really don’t know who I am, do you?” he asks.

My skin turns so red, even my scalp burns with embarrassment. “No. Should I?”

“Come to think of it, no, you shouldn’t.”

I inspect the man more closely. “Something about you does seem familiar, though.” My body feels light as a feather. I’m having a conversation with an actual guy that doesn’t involve terror and running away. And hey, I’m even having fun.

Another face pops into my mind. “Do you know my brother, maybe?”

“Everyone knows Maxon.” A playful light dances in his eyes. “Guess again.”

“Are we making this a game, then?”

“Only if you wish it.”

I tap my cheek, pretending to consider this turn of events. “Fine. A guessing game it is.”

“Brilliant.”

“Let’s see. Are you maybe a quasi-demon… But one who’s not living in Purgatory?”

He winks. “I’ll give you a hint. I’m one of the Furor.”

I scrub my hand over my forehead. That makes him a full-blooded dragon shifter. Now, I’m really stumped. I may be part Furor, but I know hardly anything about them. All of a sudden, that seems like a huge miss. “Are you from the Hexenwing tribe of Furor? I know their Level One spells.”

The arrowhead end of his tail moves in a ‘no’ motion. “Wrong color dragon scales.”

I snap my fingers, trying to make memories appear. Maxon talked about color schemes for Furor scales. I didn’t pay attention. “Don’t tell me. Black scales mean you’re from the Thornclaw tribe. Or is it Shrillroar?”

Another chuckle. “Neither.”

“Okay, I need a hint.”

“Why not ask your Mum? Her scales are the same color.”

“True.” I can’t help but laugh. “Wow, I need to take an interest in the after-realms outside of magic.”

“Maybe I can help on that score. How about I come round for tea sometime? We can have a chat.”

“Tea.” My mental gears try to process this. Doesn’t happen. He’s not scared or running away and now, he’s talking about beverages. That doesn’t mean what I think it means, does it? “I’m not sure.”

“Perhaps you fancy a pint, then?”

“Of ice cream?” Finally, my mental gears start clicking again. “Oh, as in you and me? On a date somewhere?” My eyes almost bug out of my head. “That’s not a good idea.”

His brows lift ever so slightly, like this conversation is our little secret. “And why’s that?”

I know nothing about people in general, let alone men?

“I have a very busy life.”

“Doing what?”

“You know. Books. Stuff. Things. It’s cooler than it sounds.”

Do I seem like a loser or what?

“Quite busy, indeed. Though perhaps you could squeeze in a cuppa.” He leans in closer. “In between Stuff and Things.”

His attention makes me woozy. The feeling’s so lovely that it takes me a while to process what’s happening. I gasp when I realize it. “You’re looking at my marks.”

“I know. I like them.” And the way he says the words, there’s no question this time. He means it.

The moment freezes for me. This is a man. A very attractive man. He really likes my marks. I’m not sure whether to cheer or cry. In the end, I shake my head in disbelief. “You like them?”

“Ah, you’ve no idea how much.”

With those words, I go from confusion to all-out panic. This has turned too real, too fast. “I have to go now,” I say quickly. “I have, you know, stuff to do.” And I’m terrified out of my skull.

He nods slowly, and the look in his eyes says ‘this isn’t over.’

As I rush through Grandpa Xav’s office, I hear the Mystery Man call after me. “See you soon, Princess.”

Every word sends a happy jolt of anticipation through me.

Oh, I hope so.