Smoke and Mirrors : Royal Angels I

Squirrels and firebirds

~Victoria~

Whoever said angels were divine clearly hadn't met Biscuit.

I refused to move when we landed, not even bothering to look out the window.

Biscuit had taken that as an invitation to haul me onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Let go of me!"

I tried to bite his neck. He snapped his head away before I could, though he couldn't see me.

Which got me thinking.

"Can you read my mind now?"

"Sure." I could practically hear the eye roll. "I'm Batman."

"That's still not a 'no'."

"I can't, Shortcake. I'd have to be a pure blood and it takes a lot of work. Plus," he said, the poster child of nonchalant. "What makes you think I'd want to?"

"Oh, I don't know." I replied, innocently.

In great detail, I imagined us alone on a beach somewhere. Him taking his shirt off. Me running my hands over his chest. Up his abs, then his chest, to his neck.

And strangling the life out of him.

Biscuit dropped me on my äss.

"I knew it!" I yelled, triumphant.

He merely gave me a confused smile, as the gravity of the situation slowly sank in.

"Get out of my head! Right now."

"Gee," he said, casually throwing me over his shoulder again. "I wonder why I'd do that."

"Because I'm getting out of these godforsaken ropes sometime." I said, murderous. "And you're going to regret it."

"You threaten people like an eight year old." He ruffled my hair with his free hand. "Next time be more specific. Maybe add body parts."

Biscuit was petting me while teaching me how to deliver a death threat.

What was wrong with this guy?

Biscuit stepped out the door, and walked down the ladder. Bright sunlight fell on my face, and beyond the tarmac, all I could see was an endless expanse of forest.

Daniel followed after us, eyeing me warily.

"Can't you just shove her in a suitcase or something?"

Before I could respond, a curt voice responded.

"That can be arranged, sire."

A sharply dressed man in black livery held open the door of a limo. If Biscut was Batman, this guy wasn't Alfred - he looked about thirty with hazel eyes and dark brown hair.

He would've looked handsome.

That is, if he hadn't been eyeing me like I was yesterday's leftovers.

"You know, a lot of things can be arranged." I told Daniel, plotting my revenge.

"No need for any arrangements, Marcus." Biscuit muttered. Maybe this mind reading thing had its advantages. "Let's just go home."

Before we got inside the car, Biscuit pulled me to the side.

"Do yourself a favour." He said, point blank. "Don't run, don't plot and most importantly don't annoy me. You think you can do that, Shortcake?"

"You know damn well I can't." I snapped. "I've got a family -"

"A father who abandoned you and a sister who's expecting you to follow in his footsteps. Not exactly family goals, princess."