Angel: Private Eye Book One by Odette C. Bell

Author:Odette C. Bell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: urban fantasy romance, urban fantasy series, urban fantasy adventure, fantasy adventure mystery, fantasy detective romance

Chapter 8

That morning, I awoke expecting attack. An explosion. The sky to fall in. Vampires to come spurting out of the pipes in the bathroom. Demons to come dripping down the walls.

Except nothing happened at all.

For the first time in weeks, there wasn’t even a cloud in the sky. It was quiet and strangely peaceful.

For some reason the vampire hoons that usually rode their motorbikes right up to the intersection outside the window had taken the morning off. Not to mention the werewolves that always tore up and down the pavement shouting and screaming and snarling at each other.

I lay there for several minutes with my wrist pressed over my brow, my fingers grinding my eyes shut. My teeth were bared and my body was tensed, ready for an attack.

The memory of that vampire’s strange placards burnt brightly in my mind's eye. So brightly, that as I closed my eyes, I could see the mock salute he'd given me.

Groaning, I eventually pushed the covers off and stood.

A few slices of the bright and cheery morning light were making it through the cracks in my blinds.

I frowned at them. Not the blinds, but the cherry light.

I quickly padded into the kitchen, made myself a cup of coffee, and sat down to read the paper.

The paper always magically appeared in the kitchen, right next to the coffee machine. It was here long before Mr Marvelous made it in in the morning.

I hadn't even bothered to ask how it got there, probably magical rats for all I knew.

Not for the first time since I'd started working here, I was beginning to appreciate how much I didn't know about this world, and how much that was costing me.

Thumbing through the paper, I half expected to find some new grisly murder or crime. Some fell magical deed to take the edge off the goddamn bright sunshine outside.

Nothing. Not a thing. It seemed as if last night, aside from the party, nothing much had happened in Hope City.

I finished my coffee and allowed myself the smallest smile. Because, hey, maybe my gut instinct was wrong, and today really would be a good one.

It was approximately five minutes later, when I was pulling on a pair of mom jeans and my most comfy top, that I got a message on my phone. It wasn't from Sarah or Mr Marvelous. It was from frigging Benson. And no, don't ask me how he got my number.

I stared at the screen, bottom lip caught between my teeth, a pained hissing wheezing sound filtering from my pursed lips.

He wanted another vial of my blood. Apparently he wasn't done running tests yet.

Instantly, a sick feeling clutched at my gut as I realized what I was doing. I was giving a vampire my blood. This wasn’t like going to the doctors and realizing you needed a couple more tests.

This was like giving a vampire a pre-made snack.

That fact hit me over and over again. But there was nothing I could do. I'd signed

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