Swoon Worthy Wednesday: Rekesh Saint-Louis (Lucifer: Sons of Old Trilogy)

Name: Rekesh Saint-Louis

Age: 108

Synopsis: Have you ever wondered what could be hiding in the shadows?

Well, for eighteen-year-old Zahara Faraday, she doesn’t have to wonder. You see she comes from a lineage of Light Witches, those who have chosen to help protect and serve between the supernatural world and the human world. The only problem is Zahara, like her father Solomon, is as human as a human being can be whereas her mother, Mia, and her Aunt Catalina, were born as Light Witches. As a family they hunt down rogue supernaturals—creatures who harm humans or who have committed an act against their kingdom. 

Zahara’s hunting skills are usually kept dormant since her parents would prefer she live life as a normal human girl without knowledge of the supernatural world. She plans on doing just that—except when she finds a couple being attacked by fairies, she has no choice but to step in. Before she can return to pretending to be blissfully ignorant, Zahara encounters a problem she isn’t the least equip to handle: Bryan Hamilton, the good looking new co-worker she has to help train. In a heartbeat, her best friend, Becca King, has set her up on a double date with herself and her new crush, Rekesh Saint-Louis, who happens to be the most powerful leader of the biggest Imago Coven in South Florida –supernatural creatures with the ability to control water . . . and suck out human souls. 

Zahara has no time to focus on how she’s going to explain her double date with her best friend and the enemy they have a tentative truce with to her parents because soon one of the members of Mia and Catalina’s coven is found murdered with a strange tattoo of a snake with wings carved into his arm.

Zahara is then thrown into a whirlwind battle with an angel determined to have revenge against God, an Imago coven she doesn’t think they should trust, and slew of dream-eating fairies and powerful Nephilims, hybrid children of angels and humans, more than happy to rip her to shreds.

Normal jus t got a deadlier definition.

Why we love him: Other than the fact we practically drool all over ourselves when we think about Rekesh's six-foot frame, thick dark hair, chocolate eyes that a girl could get lost in and those impossible full lips that a girl wants to get lost in, he's also sophisticated, suave, and knows how to rock a three piece suit. From the very first moment I was introduced to Rekesh, I was blown away into Swoonville, because let's face it ladies, not only can this guy walk the walk but he also talks the talk. I swear he wields sweet talking like it's a super power. *dreamy sigh*

Sneak Peak!

“You seem to have a penchant for getting into trouble.” Rekesh’s smooth voice spoke from the door.

 Zahara and Bryan turned their attention to him. Bryan stared in curiosity, and Zahara set her lips in a tight line. Rekesh’s long, toned arms were displayed in a short-sleeved, dusky-gray T-shirt and his legs in a pair of tightly fitted, black pants along with a pair of black and gray sneakers. His inky-black hair was combed back, and his chestnut-toned eyes wore the same smile his full lips did. Rekesh’s eyes glanced over her hand in Bryan’s, and she quickly pulled it back, standing up straighter.

“What are you doing here?” Zahara asked, staring at him with suspicion

.

“I was invited,” Rekesh reminded her. He looked past Zahara and Bryan and his smile widened. “Becca, how lovely to see you.”

Becca cleared her throat, forgetting she still had a piece of granola bar in her mouth and choked. She coughed a few times, swallowed the granola bar, and gave Rekesh the smile she reserved for when she flirted with boys.

“You came!” she exclaimed. “I thought maybe you got lost.”

“Not at all, you were most helpful with the directions,” Rekesh said. He took her hand and planted a kiss upon it.

Zahara stared at her best friend in disbelief as she giggled. She rolled her eyes and grabbed the collar of Rekesh’s shirt. “Can I speak to you a moment?” she asked, but didn’t bother waiting for a reply. She yanked Rekesh back toward the door and outside, fully aware if he hadn’t been cooperating she wouldn’t be able to move him even an inch. She dragged him over to the picnic table, which sat under a tree, and released the hold she had on his shirt. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked again, placing her hands on her hips.

“As I already explained, I was invited; or did you suddenly develop amnesia and forget the invitation having been extended by Becca herself?” Rekesh replied, fixing her with a steady glare. He straightened out his shirt and walked over to the table, sitting on top of it.

Zahara arched an eyebrow. “You can’t tell me you only came here because you wanted to see Becca.”

“Of course not, I am after all the irresistible-dangerous Imago, so that must mean I have a sordid plan.” Rekesh leaned forward, looked back and forth, then added in a whisper, “I plan on taking Becca back to the Darkling Hotel and have her become my votarist.”

Zahara took a swing at his face. Rekesh simply sat back, unfazed. “You even try to kidnap my best friend and have her become—”

“Yes, I know, unbearable pain and torture,” Rekesh said with a yawn. “I do not plan on harming your friend. I have no ulterior motive. I like Becca; she’s bold and cute.”

“You. Are. Not. Allowed. To. Date. Her,” Zahara said through gritted teeth. Her eyes were siltted and her hands had formed into fists.

“You should calm down, you’ll end up attaining gray hair before you hit your nineteenth birthday,” Rekesh teased.

Zahara growled at him and Rekesh sighed. “If I promise to keep things between Becca and myself platonic, will you call off the death glare?”

“She’s off limits, Rekesh, I mean it,” Zahara said and folded her arms.

“As you wish, Lady Faraday,” Rekesh said with a bow of his head.

“Can you cut the bull or am I gonna have to shank you?” Zahara threatened, retrieving the dagger from her back pocket.

“Drop the dagger,” a quiet voice spoke from directly behind Zahara. Zahara yelped and jumped back, a shiver crawling down her spine. A pair of forest-green-colored eyes met hers, predatory and hard. She was surprised he had a blue Mohawk, and both his ears were pierced with crosses hanging from them. An orange tank declaring in bold letters ‘Fiction is Truth,’ hugged his defined chest, while a pair of black and gray checkered jeans covered his legs. He wore a pair of black and orange Converse and a black watch in the shape of a fang on his wrist.

“Zahara, meet my right hand, Leanian,” Rekesh introduced.

“Nice to meet His Creepiness,” Zahara said with a sneer. “In case your douchebag of a boss has never told you, sneaking up on a girl with a blade is never a nice way of saying hello.” Leanian remained unmoving, staring intently at Zahara. “Oookay then,” Zahara said, turning back around to face Rekesh. “Silent type, fits the whole Imago persona well.”

“Leanian is the more hands-on type, which proves to be far more beneficial.” Rekesh eyed the dagger in Zahara’s hand. “If you’re still planning on shanking me, I suggest you change your mind. Leanian would most likely break every bone in your arm before you took a step in my direction,” he said, not as a promise, but as a fact.

Zahara returned the dagger back to its sheath and into her back pocket. “Mind?” she asked, indicating the bench. Rekesh bowed his head and Zahara sat down. “I need to ask you about something.” Zahara glanced back to Leanian, who was still standing in the same spot, but his eyes had calmed a fraction of an inch and he had his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. He had his eyes roaming the property, but Zahara had a feeling his ears were more than attentive to her conversation with Rekesh.

“Speak as freely as you wish. Leanian is bound to me, he is trusted with my life,” Rekesh explained.

“Right,” Zahara said with one last look at Leanian. “Okay, well, I wanted to ask if you heard about the attack of a coven member just last night.”

“Joshua Stanton?”

Zahara nodded. “He was murdered by an Imago. Do you know anything about it?”

“How do you know an Imago killed him?”

“Fought him, sent him back to the Angel Kingdom.” Zahara ran her hand over her neck, remembering the grip of the Imago’s fingers.

“Then the Angel Kingdom will handle finding out where he came from,” Rekesh said with a shrug.

“That will take time and by then another member of the coven could die!” Zahara leaned forward and ran a hand through her hair. “You’re the leader of the biggest Imago rogue coven in Florida. You can’t tell me you don’t at least have clues or theories on who would openly kill a member of my mom’s coven.”

Rekesh was quiet for a few moments and Zahara wondered if taking the dagger back out would be a good way to make him talk. She thought of the idea of a broken arm and decided against it.

“I do not know who was sent to attack Joshua or why, but there has been a rumor traveling the supernatural circles as of late of a new coven forming somewhere in Miami. As to whether or not the new coven is all Imagoes or some other kind of supernatural creature, no one knows yet.”

Zahara looked down at the grass, watching it sway lightly in the warm breeze. She knew all rogue supernaturals, no matter what type, understood that attacking a human, and especially killing a human, was forbidden. The Watchers would step in and no supernatural—rogue or otherwise—wanted to deal with one of the Watchers. Facing down an angry Imago is not the same thing as facing a pure, full-blooded angel. If there was a new coven attacking humans without a care for facing The Watchers, then things were going to get even uglier real soon.

“There was a symbol left on Joshua.” Zahara winced as she remembered Joshua’s arm. She looked up toward Rekesh. “It looked like a snake with wings; would you have an idea why the Imago would take time to carve that symbol into Joshua’s arm?” She didn’t miss the way Rekesh’s body had tightened at the mention of the symbol, or the way Leanian had glanced back at her.

“Are you sure you saw the symbol correctly? You could have mistaken the blood in your shock.” Rekesh slumped forward, seeming to have relaxed, but Zahara could see the tightness in his eyes.

“I know what I saw, and I know you know what it means,” Zahara accused.

Rekesh stood up and brushed his pants off. “Zahara, go home and enjoy your life. There is a reason why your parents and Catalina do not want you out hunting. Whoever killed Joshua was sending a message. This isn’t over.” Rekesh started to walk away, Leanian following behind.

“That’s it?!” Zahara yelled, stomping after him. “You give me some ominous message that doesn’t really help me at all and then walk off to go enjoy your night?! Are you friggin’ kidding me?!” She went to grab his arm, but Leanian grabbed her hand instead.

Zahara cried out and fell to her knees.

“Leanian,” Rekesh said in a stern voice. Leanian dropped Zahara’s hand and stepped back. Rekesh kneeled down in front of her and tried to take her hand. Zahara slapped him away. She spit on his shoes then rose and stomped off back toward The Cave, massaging her hand and mentally slapping herself for ever thinking trusting an Imago would be a good idea.

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