Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews and follows! I really appreciate it! This chapter is reallylong, but it is the first time they actually meet SO, I think it deserves to be. Keep reviewing, it inspires me to continue writing. ENJOY

Chapter 3

It was the end of February, and Rixon and I were sitting at a table in the back of Enzo's Bistro where the lighting didn't entirely reach. Enzo's is a quaint café mostly taken up by respectable high school students of Coldwater. In other words, it was not the kind of place where you would find me hanging around.

I had requested to be seated at the table in the back because it was shadowy area, where I wouldn't attract a lot of attention. There was a candle on my table; the flame was smothered between my fingers as soon as I sat down though. Rixon was visually bored, sprawled out in his chair across from me.

I rocked my chair on to the back two legs, stretched my arms, placed them behind my head, and stared pointedly at the entrance. I was running some more surveillance on this Nora Grey girl, and this appeared to be her favorite place to grab a bite to eat.

I was still watching the doors when Rixon began to sing, "I'll wait for you till I turn blue. There's nothing more a man can do. Ya drank with demons straight from"-he paused-"Hell. They nearly won as well."

I smiled and looked at him, "Warming up for your American Idol audition?"

He kicked me under the table, "When are you going to tell me what you're up to?"

I tried to play it off, "Up to?"

He raised his eyebrows incredulously, "We've been coming here- Enzo's is it? - Every Thursday night round eight. Five weeks in a row. And you thought I didn't notice."

So he had caught on more than I gave him credit for. Damn it. I wasn't ready to confess my reasons, so I stalled, praying that he hadn't picked out the object of my fixation.

"Four weeks," I corrected.

He rolled his eyes dramatically, "The lad can count."

I lied, "They have a good coffee."

"Right then," he countered, "Trouble with that is, you can't taste it. Moving on to lie number two, then?"

"I like the atmosphere," I offered up.

Rixon was bugging out, his eyes almost popping out of his head, "Every girl in this place is under twenty. What do you say we scam up some birds a little closer to our own age…seven hundred, at least."

"I'm not here for the girls," I sighed. But to myself I was saying just one of them. Thinking about her made me subtly check my watch and flicker my eyes back to the door. She should be here soon.

"Not here for the girls. Not here for the gambling, the drinking, the fighting," he ranted, "By all accounts, we're blowing a perfectly good night in a reputable establishment. Either you've started listening to the wee little angel on your shoulder, or that iniquitous brain of yours is tossing around some scheme."

"And?"

Rixon was wrong; the angel on my shoulder had been silenced and tied up a long time ago. I was driven by my desire to satisfy my own personal wants and needs. And right now, all I want is to get my human body. The ultimate prize.

"And I'm betting on the latter. What I want to know is what worthwhile scheme involves a squeaky clean high school hang out?" he questioned as he glanced around the room trying to understand.

I was looking out the window by the door when I saw her familiar shadow jogging to get inside. It was pouring out there, and the girl was running with her hands above her head, pathetically trying to shield her hair from the rain. When she reached the door she pushed it open extra far, allowing enough time for her blonde friend to follow suit. The two girls shook off the rain and stamped their feet for a moment before being seated three tables down from my own.

Rixon was still talking to me, prodding for answers, but I had tuned him out completely.

The redhead that had just scampered in had my full attention. She was shorter than her friend, but still tall as far as human girls go, and she held her self with impeccable composure: controlled expressions, straightened shoulders, and a slightly raised chin that others may assume is due to vanity. But I knew that it was more of a cagey, unassuming, and prudent notion. A hint of a smile tugged on my lips when she pulled her hair into a messy ponytail, missing some pieces. Due the black running pants and wide-necked sweatshirt she kept playing with, I could've assumed she just been at the gym, even if I hadn't already memorized her routines and schedules. The fact that she liked to exercise outside was only a small detail on my list of things I had learned about her. She only went to the gym when her blonde friend, the yo-yo dieter, dragged her along.

The hostess led the two girls to a table only a few down from my own. That wasn't good. For the last four weeks, I'd been watching her at the opposite side of the restaurant. Observing her as she would put her face on her hands and listen intently to whatever meaningless gossip the blonde was interested in that moment.

I slouched in my chair and angled my signature baseball cap to hide my face, trying to remain unnoticed. I felt an unfamiliar feeling, anxiety. I was unsure as to why though, I was never one to be scared or nervous for consequences when doing something blameworthy. I had to be smart here. I had a carefully devised plan, and her noticing me in a restaurant was definitely not going to float. Eventually, after I knew every detail I possibly could on her life, I was going to introduce myself as a random, perfect stranger. But this would happen on my time, when I said so.

The girl sat just a couple of yards away, stabbing her straw at the poor, defenseless ice cubes in her glass. The laughable irony, defenseless, just like her. With that last thought to guide me, I focused in on their conversation.

"I don't know about you, but I'm thinking we need to finish sophomore year off with a bang," announced the few pounds over curvy blonde, "No more ho-hum. This year has to be remembered by future classes. And nothing says memorable like snatching Joey Mancusi as my new beau. I already jump started my this-is-how-I'm-gonna-get-him plan. I Sharpied my cell number on his garage door. All I have to do now is sit back and wait.

The redhead was grinning at her friend, "For the restraining order?" The way her face lit up with the smile was beautiful. And she had no idea the effect she had.

Blondie argued, "What, you don't like obvious?"

"His parents are going to blacklist you. Hope you don't need a chiropractor anytime in the future, as his father's the only one in Coldwater," red reasoned, "Any way you look at it, seven digits on a garage door doesn't make for the best icebreaker."

I couldn't look away from her long barstool legs and elegant features. This week more than last, she was devouring my attention. She looked nothing like Chauncey, and I almost wished she did. Killing a creature such as herself was going to be more difficult than killing a girl who looked like my vassal. Only a small mark on her wrist confirmed their relations. It was the heritage mark of her Nephilim bloodline.

Thinking about her made my mouth twitch with the hint of a smile. I was over taken by the urge to make her cautiously perfect world crumble. One line, one conversation would be all it would take. I could make her blush with under five words, and I'd bet money on it. My train of thought was stopped by the pretty voice of my soon-to-be victim.

"Maybe next time go with a text. 'Hey Joey, here are my digits.' Works for the rest of the population."

Blondie sighed, "Fudge it. Snagging Joey Mancusi was a crapshoot anyway. What we need to do is set our sights elsewhere. Road trip to Portland. That would make Marcie blow steam out her ears. You and me hanging out with college guys while she modeled slutty swimsuits and prom dresses at J.C Penny in front of drooling, prepubescent freshmen."

I lost track of their conversation when Rixon scraped his chair across the floor.

"I give up," he stated, "I. Give. Up. What are you after?"

I sipped my coffee, "Quality time with you, my best buddy."

"See, when you lie to me it hurts. I thought we had something special. I thought our joint eternal sentences of damnation were our bond. I know you're up to something and if I have to, I'll beat it out of you."

"Give it a rest," I said with irritation tainting my voice.

Not giving up he continued, "I'd like to. Problem is, I'm not stupid."

"You act stupid," I put plainly.

"Right, thanks for that. For your information, there is a difference between acting stupid and being stupid," he said, offended.

Sarcasm coated my tone, "It's a fine line, but someone has to draw it."

Rixon smacked the table with both palms, "What are we doing here other than taking an honest stab at death by boredom? And if you don't come clean in the next three seconds, I'll make good on my threat to make a punching bag out of your arrogant smirk."

I spoke to his mind, Patience. When I bring it up, this is what I'm talking about.

He returned the gesture, keeping our talk private. Digging up each other's flaws, are we? Tsk, tsk. That's no way to kindle a friendship. As for your flaws, you've forgotten how to have fun. Why don't we go find a group of Nephilim to terrorize?

He stood up, ready to leave. I stood with him, I was good at picking my battles, and this wasn't important enough. But suddenly, my conscious thought was over ruled by a certain blonde three tables down.

"Why can't any of the guys at school look like…those two guys over there? Yowza." Too late did I realize she was referring to Rixon and me. When I looked in their direction they were staring at us. Well, this is extremely inconvenient.

I was still watching the redhead when Rixon's fist slammed into my jaw, her face was dominated by shock and her mouth formed an 'O'.

"Told you I'd beat it out of you," Rixon snorted. As he dodged around the table, trying to get out of my reach before I came to my senses.

When I was standing, Rixon barreled into me, slamming me against a wall and shattering a picture frame at the same time. When I looked into the corner of my eye, I saw her, gasping in alarm and confusion. Her expression egged me on.

I ducked the next punch, and that was Rixon's last chance to hit me. With a quick uppercut I had drilled his jaw. I was then focusing on attacking the midsection, aiming right for the ribs and flesh right around the stomach. That was when his arms dropped, trying to protect his core, and I moved my hits upwards. Once, twice. Twice more. I had landed five solid directs hits to his skull before Rixon shuffled backwards with his hands raised in surrender.

"You want me to scream uncle, that it?" Rixon huffed as he grinned. He was finally having fun for the first time all night.

When I looked up, the blonde from a few tables down was weaving through the tables, heading for us. She handed Rixon a napkin while saying, "You've got a little blood…"

"Thanks, love," he murmured as he dabbed the napkin around his mouth and winked at me.

I heard his voice slip into my head, Said I wanted a girl closer to seven hundred, did I? I meant seven hundred…give or take.

I was not pleased with the attention our brawl had brought us, and I glared at the back of Blondie's head wishing I could mind trick her into going back to her table and ignoring us. But then Rixon would know that something was up with those specific girls. In less than a day, he wouldn't remember her name, but she would remember his, which posed a problem.

"So tell me love," drawled Rixon, "Ever ridden on a Ducati Streetfighter? I'm parked out back."

Blondie threw her purse strap over her shoulder and paused only for a moment, "Does your friend have a bike too? He could take my friend, Nora." She waved at me, and then shot her friend a look that said 'Come here right now'.

The redhead was exasperated as she warned her friend, "Vee,"

Blondie… erm, Vee ignored the silent caution as she faced Rixon, "First things first. Someone should clean you up. I took a babysitting course this summer. When it comes to nosebleeds, I'm your girl." She dragged Rixon with her to the restroom. But I knew he was cool because he said, "Lead the way, Nurse… Vee, was it?"

I ran my hand through my hair, and noticed the same expression of disbelief on the redhead's face. Two minutes earlier, I was in perfect control. But now, a Mack truck might as well have run over my plan and spit it out the mud flaps. The redhead shifted her weight and looked up at me before swiftly forcing her eyes to the kitchen doors. I frightened her. I wonder if it was a natural thing, or if somewhere, deep down, she knew what I planned to do to her.

I was unsure of my next move, because in my head, I couldn't help thinking about making her uneasy, but regretted the thought of it because I didn't want to scare her off. I liked being close to her.

She broke the silence, "Think you could tell your friend to cut back on the slickness factor? If he gets any oilier, third world countries are going to start looking to him as a supplier."

I smiled down at her only to be caught off guard. She was prettier up close. Much prettier. Guarded but expressive eyes, an aristocratic nose, a few freckles sprinkled across her nose, and her hair. It was wild, rebellious, and seductive. I really wanted to snap the pony tail holder that was containing it, watch it fall loose onto her shoulders.

Starting a conversation I said, "So, you're from around here?" I knew the answer. She's lived in Coldwater her entire life, in the same old farmhouse on the outskirts of town.

She tried to look distracted but responded, "It would seem so. And you are…?"

"Jev."

I could tell from the twist of her mouth that she thought it was an odd name. Most humans did, it was given to me hundreds of years ago, when I was still an angel.

"And you?" she asked, "Are you from around here? I haven't seen you before."

"I keep a low profile."

"Why's that?"

I shrugged, "You ask a lot of questions."

It was the truth, I could see more and more bubbling behind her thoughtful eyes. I couldn't have her ask the wrong questions, I needed to be in control. So I ended the conversation. I may have acted like a jerk, but considering the plans I had for her future, I could've been a lot worse. I wasn't expecting a pang of guilt in my stomach. I wanted her to keep talking to me, so I decided to replace my previous answer.

"I'm in town on business." It was vague, but enough information so she would hopefully continue talking.

"What kind of business," she questioned softly.

Hmm… "Genealogy. Tracking down long lost family members."

"Which family are you researching?" She looked as if she wanted to offer assistance. But the thing was I found who needed, and she was standing in front of me.

"Langeais."

"I'm not aware of any Langeaises in Coldwater." She almost sounded like she was accusing me of something.

I rubbed my thumb across my lips, wiping the smile that threatened to show, "Sounds like I've got my work cut out."

More questions, "How long are you planning to stay in town?'

"As long as it takes," I hinted, "It would speed things up if I had a tour guide, someone to show me around."

She had a wry smile, she knew I was flirting, but she was going to tease me.

"You're in luck. Vee is an excellent tour guide."

I was going to make her play into my game, "But I prefer redheaded tour guides."

She shrugged her shoulders, "Sorry, I don't know any redheads."

"Check the mirror this morning?" I asked playfully.

She tapped her nail to her lip drawing my attention. She was warming up to me; it was just taking a little longer than it would have with other girls. As far as I was concerned, the whole world was only us two. That was kind of scary, because I hadn't felt like that since I before I fell.

"I did. And I recall seeing a brunette."

So obviously she's deluded, "Might need to get your vision checked."

She didn't miss a beat, "So that explains why you have three eyes, two horns, and one very yellow fang where your front teeth should be." She squinted and cocked her head at him.

I grinned, "Busted. I'm a monster. Jev is my deceptively harmless- and shockingly handsome- alter ego."

She smiled in triumph, "And I'm on top of it."

"Is that a Freudian slip?"

She blushed from my blunt response. Self-consciously shifting her weight, and then she decided on starting on a new topic.

"How long does it clean to take to clean a bloody nose?" she announced as she waved her arm towards the bathroom door.

I chuckled, "Not sure that's the only thing they're doing in there."

Her eyes were wide with obvious innocence. It was adorable.

"Maybe…Maybe you should go knock on the door."

That was not appealing to me for multiple reasons. Least of all because Rixon might be mad if interrupt something. Topping the list was the fact that I wasn't quite ready to stop talking to her.

"Won't do any good. The only thing that will get Rixon's attention is the sound of his bike starting. Someone breathes on it and he notices the condensation. You want get him out of there, that's your best option."

She stared incredulously, "You're saying I should take his bike for a ride?"

That was a joke. I doubted she even knew how to start it, let alone ride it.

"More like be my accomplice," I let the idea dangle.

"And you want me to go with you, why?"

If I was being honest with myself, it was so I could get her alone. And not so I could kill her. I dropped my gaze to her mouth, which I was secretly imagining planting a kiss on.

"Let me guess, you've never been on a Ducati Streetfighter." Not a guess. One look at her and even someone who hasn't been stalking her for months could tell she didn't do motorcycles. Did I say stalking? Wow, that sounds creepy.

She angled her chin higher in defiance, "How would you know that?"

"Ride one once, and that's all it takes. You're hooked." I hitched a thumb at the exit, "Now or never."

She almost looks like she contemplated it for a moment. "I don't just get on stranger's motorcycles."

Wow, she played the stranger danger card. I wonder if I could get her to make a bet with me.

"Oh c'mon… Don't be a pussy cat," I teased.

She bit her lip. Sexy.

"I don't think it's a good idea."

"Let's leave it up to fate. If I guess your favorite number, you come with me. If I don't, you can leave with your friend."

She hesitated, "Oh… Alright."

"To make sure don't cheat, I need you to write it down. And because there are a lot of numbers in this world, I want you to narrow it down for me."

"Fair enough. It's between one and twenty." She turned and wrote her number on a napkin, which she then promptly put behind her back. "To give you a fair warning," she continued, "You only get one guess. Are you sure your mind reading abilities are up to par?"

I snorted, "My mind reading abilities are great. Just be ready to go for the ride of your life." My innuendo made her blush a deep red.

I thought for a minute, about everything I'd learned about her in the past few months, about her personality, and about how her concentrated expression was driving me crazy. I was about to guess randomly when I saw Rixon sneak out of the bathroom.

I shot into his mind, What number is written on the paper?

He shook his head, Why should I tell you?

The redhead spoke, "You are taking forever. Hurry up, or I'm going to call it a forfeit."

Please?! Be a friend.

Alright, but next time we fight, I deserve a fair shot before you bust my face.

Whatever you want.

Seventeen.

I spoke aloud, "Seventeen."

She gasped, but then composed herself, "You are a very good guesser. A deal's a deal."

I knew she was nervous by the way her eyes kept flickering between me and the door.

"You know, mate, I am ready to go home," called a rough Irish accent.

The redhead had spun around to see Vee waltzing out of the restroom waving her hand like a fan and mouthing 'Ooh La La'

"Guess I'm gonna have to take a rain check on that ride then," said the redhead to me.

I nodded, "Guess so."

Rixon grabbed his jacket and I grabbed mine. We started to walk towards the exit, but I stopped, turned my head, and smirked at the redhead.

"Goodbye, Nora." I said before walking out of the restaurant.

I only spoke her name for my own pleasure. This is really bad, because I had refused to even think it due to being afraid that I would start seeing her as a human being, not Chauncey's descendant. I didn't mean to say it, but I did. And now she was going to haunt me, even more than normal. Plus, she wouldn't remember our conversation, because I had to keep my plan on track. Tonight, while she and her friend are sleeping, their minds are going to be erased of ever seeing Rixon and myself at Enzo's.