The Guardians: An Urban Fantasy Romance Read Online Free Page A

direction. Who’s this girl and where do we find her?”
    “Her name is Addison Monroe, and she lives right here in New Orleans. Finding her won’t be a problem. Convincing her you’re not insane will be.”
    Micah frowned. “Girl don’ know she a Naphil?”
    Reniel shook his head. “No, she is unaware of the battle that rages on between Heaven and Hell, or her place in it.”
    Jack shook his head, downright flabbergasted. This was unprecedented. The Nephilim were some of the key players in this war that took place on the battleground of Earth. Both sides always wanted the Nephilim for their own, but they always had a choice to make. God didn’t mess with free will; Lucifer not allowed to, either. Even Nephilim with the blood of demons could choose to fight for the side of Heaven—after all, even the devil himself had once been an angel. The reverse proved true for Naphils born of angels. Because of so much competition for the allegiance of the Nephilim, the Guardians had been tasked with protecting them, guarding them, and keeping them away from the influence of either side until they made their choice.
    “That’s impossible,” Jack said. “Isn’t it?”
    Reniel sighed. “It’s kind of a long story, and it’s complicated. The first thing you need to know is that she’s the daughter of Eligos …”

Chapter 3: Deadly Dancer
     
    Addison sashayed down the catwalk, her platforms clicking over the stage as she reached for the gleaming pole at the end. The rowdy cheers greeting her passed through one ear and out the other. With a mechanical precision born of experience, she gripped the pole with both hands and wrapped one leg around it. Swinging to gain momentum, she joined the first leg with the other, using her thighs to grip it tight before bending backwards. Reaching behind her head with both hands, she held on as she executed a perfect upside-down split, earning her even more cheers, whistles, and a shower of dollar bills across the stage.
    Sliding down and flipping right side up, she dropped back to her platforms and worked the crowd, though her mind wasn’t focused on the task. She’d danced to “Cherry Pie” so many times, she could do it in her sleep. After two years of working at Temptations on Bourbon Street, she had mastered the art of stripping for tips while her mind wandered elsewhere. Just then, it was on her final semester of college classes, and the English degree waiting for her at the end. It was the sole thing that made her crappy job bearable … hell, the only thing that made her entire existence bearable.
    Someday, she’d pack her stuff and move far, far away from New Orleans and make something of herself. Maybe she could teach, or even pursue her dream of publishing a novel. Anything would be preferable to this. The men—and a few women—in the crowded club didn’t know her. They didn’t see anything other than the size of her breasts and that she knew how to shake her ass. To them, she was nobody … just a piece of flesh to throw dollar bills at. While she had never been ashamed of her job—she made more money in a week than most people with regular nine-to-fives—she had always wanted more. Ever since she’d been a little girl growing up in a dilapidated trailer, Addison had wanted to be someone.
    She would be. Addison Monroe was nothing if not determined.
    She crouched near one corner of the stage, swinging her vibrant red hair as she dropped to her knees in front of a group of young guys crowding that edge. She collected the bills scattered near that side of the platform and tucked them into her g-string without missing a beat. She then reached down to pull a near-non-existent fishnet top over her head, revealing the red leather halter underneath.
    Flashing a friendly smile to the blond jock-looking guy who slid a fiver into the string against her hip, she arched her back in a feline fashion and rolled her hips.
    “What’s your name, gorgeous?” he bellowed to be