panels along the walls. The floorboards were exposed and
polished to a high sheen, the rich brown of the wood lending a
comfy warmth to the area. A large corner couch set took up one side of
the living room, separating a small conversational area from the larger living
and relaxing space.
The couch, settee and a
few scattered, overstuffed chairs were all of sleek, supple black leather.
Blade noticed with private approval that the low coffee table had been made
from a deep, rich mahogany. A few red oriental-patterned rugs were spread out
under the furniture. Only two paintings graced the walls, both
vivid , eye-catching abstract scenes full of red, black, silver and
green.
Blade stood in front of
each painting for quite a few minutes, entranced by the play of shadows and the
depth the simple splashes of paint conveyed. Finally, curiosity about the rest
of the room helped him to tear his eyes away and he glanced over her CDs.
Interestingly, there were
more than a few of his own favorite jazz and blues
collections on her shelves. He mentally made note of a few he hadn’t yet
managed to discover. Ange’s collection was also
eclectic, with almost every style and genre represented to one degree or
another.
Her bookshelf ran heavily
to thrillers and suspense novels, with little divergence. Blade pulled a few
books from the shelf to scan their blurbs when the titles intrigued him, but
then became drawn to a few of the tomes on magic and arcane law she had shelved
nearby.
“That one has some
excellent hypotheses,” Ange said as she re-entered
the room, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. “But their basis isn’t always
sound. Hamner et al, the thick title next to it, they
have much better founded arguments but they refuse to open their eyes to
anything not already proven these last twenty or more years.”
“You are just full of
surprises,” Blade replied as he returned the book to its place on the shelf.
“Well at least you can’t
complain of being bored,” she teased him as she rested her head against his
shoulder. Blade wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head, her
hair silky and soft against his lips.
“Never,” he vowed. “You
ready?”
“Yeah,” she agreed with a
stifled yawn. “Let’s go get some sleep. We only have a few hours ’til we’re
supposed to meet Jarred for breakfast.”
Blade let Ange lead him from the room and out the front door again.
The large duffel slung over her shoulder lent him the perfect excuse to get
something he’d had on his mind for a few days now.
“You keep your bag,” he
insisted as he quickly snatched the keys from her hand. “I’ll drive.”
Ange cocked an eyebrow at him and stood
still next to the large machine.
“No wizard has driven my
bike,” she said flatly. Blade’s grin widened in delight.
“I should hope not,” he
agreed firmly before he leaned close to her to whisper enticingly, “but I’m not
just any wizard, am I?”
Ange seemed to chew on this thought for a
moment. After what felt like an age she finally nodded her head, her bangs
falling into her eyes. “Okay,” she agreed.
Blade’s grin widened. “Really? Seriously?”
Ange nodded again. “Yeah, I think so.
Damn, I really must be crazy about you.”
Blade climbed onto the
monster of a machine and started her up. A loud, low vibration rocked through
her chassis and Blade could feel the girl purr to life beneath his legs.
Pulling his helmet on he nodded to Ange , indicating
that she should climb up behind him, which she did.
Revving the engine Blade
knew he was enjoying this far too much and with a quick turn he let the bike
loose. They pulled away down the road, wind buffeting them, but Blade kept a
firm hand on the handlebars.
Even beneath the helmet
Blade gasped at the air racing past him as they took turn after turn with
increasing speed. The bike felt like a live entity between his legs, the act of
straddling the machine making him feel as if he were