Wicked Omens (Cursed Coven Book 5)

by Patricia D. Eddy

  “I need you to stand back,” he said as he pulled his arm away from Maddox’s strong shoulders and prayed his legs would hold him. “This could be dangerous. For both of us. But we can’t get rooms with me looking like a vagrant.”

  Maddox stepped back, though uncertainty lingered in his brown eyes. Fuck, Killian wanted to reassure him, but he was too scared he’d knock down the entire building unintentionally. Ducking into an alley and turning away, he almost convinced himself it was better to face reality now. He and Maddox had no future together. They were simply two people in the right place at the right time to help one another. And that time would soon be over.

  Trying desperately to center himself, Killian reached for his magic. It was always there, just under his skin, but now, without the dampening cuff, it felt wild. Untamable. And he feared it—more than he feared anything. Including his own death.

  “From prying eyes, now do hide, all that frightens and derides. Those who look will only see exactly what I wish to be.”

  The spell crackled over his skin, and the new brand under his shirt flared again, red hot, then cooled as the charm took hold. Behind him, Maddox gasped.

  “It worked, then?” Killian asked as he turned back to the angel.

  “You’re wearing a suit. Boots. The blood stains are gone. As is your stubble. You look…perfect.” The last word escaped almost on a sigh, and Killian longed to take the man in his arms and apologize for everything. But he couldn’t hold the charm for long, so instead, he pushed past Maddox and headed for the row house.

  “Come on. I’ll get us a couple of rooms. We’re businessmen in town for a conference.” He kept his voice level, but inside, his heart wanted to crack into pieces.

  Until Maddox threaded his arm through his. “No. One room. You can be the businessman. I’m just tagging along for a vacation with you.”

  “Maddox—”

  “Not here.” The angel opened the front door and gestured for Killian to enter. “The rest of this conversation requires privacy. And maybe alcohol.”

  Killian shook his head as he climbed the three steps up into a small lobby. “You are a very bad angel.”

  “You have no idea.”

  A white-haired gentleman named Frank at the check-in desk took Killian’s credit card and ran it through an old-fashioned carbon-copy machine. “Just for incidentals, y’hear? Bill’s due when you check out.”

  At least something was going right for him. Killian breathed a sigh of relief and leaned an elbow on the counter. “I don’t suppose there are any stores in the area that deliver? Some cock-up with the airline sent our baggage to New York City, and we won’t have it back for two days.”

  Frank huffed. “Airlines don’t give a crap about service these days, do they? Paul’s Menswear will fix you up. You call them in the morning and tell them Frank sent you.” He looked them up and down. “Actually, here.” He slid a pad of paper and a pen across the counter. “Write down your sizes and what you need. You’ve probably been traveling all night and day, yeah? I’ll call them first thing in the morning.”

  Killian offered the man a weary smile. “You’re a proper gentleman, Frank. Have them charge everything to the same card as the room.” After scribbling a short list for the both of them, he accepted the key from Frank and thanked the man.

  Before he could say a word, Maddox snatched the key from his hand and threaded his arm through Killian’s. “Come on, love. The trip was brutal. We need to sleep.”

  Killian’s cheeks heated, and he offered Frank a shrug as Maddox led him up the stairs and down the hall to their room. Their room.

  As soon as Maddox flicked the lock behind them, Killian dropped the charm. His feet ached, and the brand across his chest was a constant dull burn. Stripping off his filthy socks and tossing them in the trash, he went directly into the bathroom. “I need a shower. Take the bed. Get some rest,” he said as he shut the door.

  A wispy tendril of smoke curled up from Killian’s shirt, and he swore and yanked off the burnt, stained, and torn material. In the bathroom mirror, he stared in wonder at the markings across his chest. No longer simply lines and whorls, they’d taken shape—a shape Killian recognized. Angel wings.

  Killian traced shaking fingers over the design. They were nearly complete. Thick lines arced from his sternum all the way along his collarbones. The feathers bore reddish hues, and as he inhaled deeply, they almost seemed to move—just as Maddox’s feathers had done when he’d extended his wings.

  Fuck. He understood now. Maddox was his curse. The Divine had given him a second chance, but Thea had taken it from him—from both of them. Because there was no way Maddox would ever accept him. Not after what he’d done. And with how badly Delphine wanted what Maddox had stolen, the angel’s life—his earthen life—was forfeit.

  He had to convince Maddox to go back to the celestial realm. It was the only place he’d be safe.

  Turning on the shower, Killian stripped, tossing all of his clothes into the trash. As worried as he was about Delphine and Jezebel tracking them down, he needed a few minutes to think. To figure out how to drive Maddox away without destroying the angel—or himself—in the process. The hot water ran down his back, easing the tension in his muscles, and for a moment, he let himself remember kissing Maddox. How good he’d felt held in the angel’s embrace as they’d flown over the city.

  He’d been terrified. Contrary to all the stories that involved brooms, most witches didn’t actually fly. But with Mad…the terror had quickly faded.

  “Killian.” Maddox stepped into the shower, wrapping his strong arms around Killian’s waist from behind.

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” The angel’s cock pressed against Killian’s arse, and his hands traveled up to the wings branded across his chest. “Don’t touch you? Don’t comfort you?”

  “None of it.” Killian pulled away, wiping the water off his forehead and slicking back his hair. “I don’t deserve—”

  “What do you know about angels, Killian?” Maddox turned him, cupped his cheeks, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

  “Nothing, it seems.”

  A bottle of body wash sat on a little shelf in the corner, and Maddox spilled some into his hands, then started massaging Killian’s shoulders and back. “I’m a lesser angel. All of us are, other than the archangels. I don’t have power over life and death. I can’t cure disease, can’t take away pain.”

  His strong fingers worked a particularly tight knot at the base of Killian’s neck, and Killian groaned. “I beg to differ. You’re doing a bloody good job of that at the moment.”

  Maddox’s chuckle settled Killian in a way he hadn’t known he needed, and he relaxed as the angel’s hands traveled lower, down, over his ribs, to his obliques, carefully avoiding the now sodden bandage on his side.

  “We can fly, of course. Those of us who have earned our wings. We have a small bit of glamour. You might call it…a perception filter of sorts. It’s what allowed me to sneak into Magnolia House without being seen.”

  Now, his fingers cupped Killian’s arse, and his voice lowered as he pressed closer. “We have one more ability.”

  “If you’re going to tell me you have a magical willy, be prepared to prove it.” Killian’s own cock stood at attention, and he ached to bury himself deep inside the angel, but he didn’t deserve even this much closeness, let alone more.

  “Well, to be honest, I don’t know. I’ve never…”

  “Never?” Killian angled his head to catch Maddox’s gaze over his shoulder. “You’re…beyond fit.”

  “Fit?”

  Killian almost laughed. “Sorry. It’s a phrase where I come from. Means…hot. Handsome. Fuckable.”

  “Oh.” Maddox curled one arm around Killian’s waist and rested his cheek on Killian’s shoulder. “Fit. I like that.”

  Get over yourself, Killian. Of course he’s a virgin. He’s a bloody angel. And he’s certainly not going to come down to earth to fuck you.<
br />
  “I want you, Killian,” Maddox whispered in his ear. “That last ability? We can sense emotions. Human emotions. Joy, sorrow, regret, fear…all of them. Including need. And arousal.”

  Thick fingers wrapped around Killian’s cock, and Maddox angled them so the water sluiced down their joined bodies, providing just enough lubrication for him to start stroking slowly, up and down Killian’s shaft. He rubbed his thumb over the crown, and Killian shuddered.

  “I killed—”

  “I know, baby. And you need to tell me all of it. But I used my gifts to sense your feelings at the cafe, and I know…I know you’re a good person. One who’d never kill on purpose. It was an accident, yes? You lost control of your magic?”

  He was still gripping Killian’s arousal, his movements slow and controlled, and Killian groaned, “Yes.”

  With his free hand, Maddox traced the lines across Killian’s chest. “I may not be able to work miracles, but I know a sign when I see one. This is a sign. A beautiful, perfect sign.” Quickening his strokes, Maddox closed his teeth over the shell of Killian’s ear, and pleasure shot through him, all the way down to his balls.

  “I won’t last,” Killian grunted as Maddox gripped harder, using his thumb along the pulsing vein on the underside of Killian’s cock. A drop of pre-cum escaped his slit, and Maddox inhaled deeply. Against Killian’s arse, the angel’s dick throbbed, hot and thick, and shite. He’d never been much for playing the bottom, but fuck if he didn’t want the angel inside of him.

  “Let go, baby. Just…let go,” Maddox urged, and when he started kissing down Killian’s neck, the pleasure overtook him.

  With a strangled moan, Killian did as his angel asked, and his seed painted the shower wall, coating Maddox’s hand, the scent mixing with the soap and filling the steamy air.

  Fuck. Killian needed more, but as he collapsed against Maddox’s strong chest, his exhaustion caught up with him, and he slumped in the angel’s embrace.

  “Shhh, Killian. Let me take care of you now.”

  A rhythmic pounding roused him from sleep, and Killian rolled over, the sheets whispering over his skin. He could sense his angel. Close by. Happy. Fulfilled.

  Wrapping himself in his flannel robe, Killian trudged out to their kitchen. He could still smell Maddox all over him. The scent of their lovemaking. Of home.

  “What are you doing, angel?” he asked as he leaned against the door jamb. Maddox brought an axe down onto a fat log, splitting it into two pieces.

  “Keeping us warm,” Mad replied with a smile as he swiped a hand across his brow. His dark brown hair was damp, and the muscles of his back glistened from the hard work.

  “I have all sorts of ways we can accomplish that particular task.” Killian loosened the belt of his robe to show Maddox his growing arousal.

  “Stop that.” Maddox hefted the axe again, then looked over his shoulder to give Killian a wink. “At least until I’m done here.”

  “We have enough firewood for the winter,” Killian said. “But it’s been hours since I had you. Come inside. I’ll draw a bath.”

  “Give me ten minutes, love. I like this work. It feels...good.”

  Killian couldn’t ignore the happiness in his angel’s voice. Every day, Maddox surprised him.

  Jerking awake, Killian rolled over to find Maddox in the bed next to him. The angel had helped him wash his hair, wrapped him in a fluffy robe, and tucked him in. And now, he slept soundly, the bruises on his torso nearly gone, and his handsome face relaxed.

  The dream had felt so real. The two of them, living together, being together. Like they were meant to find one another. Killian stared down at the brand on his chest. The angel wings were nearly complete, and when he touched them, they glowed with a subtle warmth. Wrapping his arms around Maddox, Killian closed his eyes and let sleep take him.

  Chapter Ten

  Maddox

  A knock at the door made Maddox jump and his heart stick in his throat. The clock on the bedside table read a little after ten in the morning, and as he scrambled out of bed and shrugged into his robe, his stomach rumbled loudly.

  Checking the peep hole, he blew out a breath. Frank stood in the hall, holding several bags with Paul’s Menswear printed across them in big, golden letters.

  “Here you go, son,” Frank said as he handed over the bags. “Everything you ordered. You need anything else?”

  “Food,” Maddox said. “I can go out and get it, but I don’t know the area.”

  “Nonsense.” Frank nodded towards Killian, tucked under the blankets. “Truth be told, you’re the only guests today. The only guests I’ve had all week. You want pastries? Something more substantial? You ever had a shrimp po’ boy?”

  Maddox had no idea what that was, but he thought they needed more than just sweets. He offered Frank a smile. “No, sir. This is our first time in New Orleans.”

  “Then if you can wait a little over an hour, I can hit up the best place for ‘em in the French Quarter.” After patting Maddox on the shoulder, Frank shut the door, and Mad sighed. Maybe he should rest. Curl up with Killian and let the witch know he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Or… Retrieving Killian’s phone from the bathroom counter, he slipped the room key into his pocket and stepped out into the hall to call his brother. Sin would know what to do, and maybe…if he had a plan by the time Killian woke up, he’d be able to convince the witch to stay with him. For good.

  “Mad, thank fuck,” Sin said as soon as he picked up the phone. “Don’t do that to me again.”

  “I’m sorry. But I had…something important to take care of.” Maddox rested his back against the wall and sank down onto his ass. “I’m in trouble, Sinclair.”

  “No shit. You’re in New Orleans. Are you going to see Mist tonight?”

  “Probably. I haven’t gotten that far yet. Until Killian can—”

  “Killian?” Sin’s voice rose slightly. “Mad? Who’s Killian?”

  Maddox told his brother everything. The bargain he’d made with Azrael. How the curse had blinded him, sent him into the path of an oncoming car. Killian saving his life. How he was falling for the handsome, tortured witch. And how they’d scattered the celestial sand to the winds.

  “I failed, Sin. I wanted to help you. To bring you back to the celestial realm. What good is an angel who can’t save his own brother?”

  “Maddox, you are not to live your life for me. I know you wish to help me atone for my mistakes. But I was the one who fell prey to La Fiura. I let her control me, use me in the most vile of ways, and kill…so many people.” Sin’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Atoning for my crimes…that is something only I can do, brother.”

  “But Sin, I don’t want to return to the celestial realm without you.” Maddox thunked his head against the wall and stared up at the ceiling.

  Over the line, a sigh carried. “Brother, I don’t think you want to return to the celestial realm at all.”

  Maddox closed his eyes. “There’s nothing there for me. Without you, without…”

  Killian.

  “Mad, no one can live their life for another. That isn’t truly living. You’re half human. You were born of two worlds. As was I. And at some point, you must make a choice. The human world, or the celestial one.” Someone knocked at Sinclair’s door, and he cursed under his breath. “I have to go, Mad. But please…whatever you do…do it for yourself.”

  When he returned to the room, Killian was still asleep, and seeing the man’s face relaxed did something to Mad’s insides he liked very much. Stripping off his robe, he climbed into bed and draped his arm over Killian’s waist. Sleep wouldn’t come, though. He could only think back over his very long celestial life. If he stayed on earth, would he retain his immortality? He could definitely be hurt. His various injuries were mostly healed, but when he moved, he still felt the dull ache in his arm and wing.

  Bruises decorated his torso, fading now into yellow and deep purple. His fingers ghosted over the band
age on Killian’s side, and he wished he had Raphael’s unique gift of healing.

  “Do that again,” Killian murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

  “This?” Mad skimmed a light touch over Killian’s ribs. “Why?”

  With a quiet grunt, Killian rolled over, and his erection tented the sheets. “You have to ask?”

  “Killian, you need to rest.” Cupping Killian’s cheek, Maddox brushed his lips to his, and suddenly, neither one of them were tired. Killian’s fingers threaded through Maddox’s hair, pulling him closer and kissing him so thoroughly, Maddox found himself panting when the witch finally pulled away.

  “I need you. Need...this.” Killian linked his fingers with Maddox’s. “I don’t know why.”

  “I do.” Maddox leaned in, tracing Killian’s new brand with his lips and tongue. The witch shuddered under him, thrusting his hips against Mad. “We were meant to find one another.”

  “This curse...” Killian’s voice shook, and he nudged Maddox’s chin to get him to look up. “I killed a man. One I cared for. Deeply.”

  The shimmer in Killian’s blue-gray eyes nearly broke him, and Maddox pulled him into his arms. “Tell me. All of it.”

  They huddled under the blankets, Killian’s head on his shoulder. “Oliver was Jezebel’s brother. He was turned into a vampire when we were twenty. But he vowed he would not let that come between us.”

  “You were intimate?” A wave of jealousy rolled along Maddox’s spine, and he forced it away. This Oliver was dead and gone, and Killian needed his support now.

  “No. We were going on holiday. I think...we’d talked about making it our first time.” Swiping at his eyes, Killian turned over, his back to Maddox’s chest. “Oliver’s sire was reckless. He failed to teach him how to feed without killing. Ollie learned, but not until he’d killed three men by accident. One...he was a werewolf. Another member of the pack came after him.”