by J. L. Madore
Sweet Lady, she was confused.
Austin said she’d suffered the same sexual drive during her pregnancy, so likely it would pass.
At least she’d had Zander to pleasure her.
Images of Zander filled her mind. That male was one tall, dark, sexual warrior. His gallantry. His deep, sultry voice. His hair—mercy, he had a mane of hair a female could grip into and tighten her fingers into fists.
Thea rubbed the tingling in her arms and tried not to die of embarrassment. Had she truly been fantasizing about Zander? She seriously needed to excise this ache for physical contact.
Lifting the vacuumed-sealed packaged penis, she turned it over to read the back panel.
One-year warranty
Rechargeable
Made from high-grade silicone
Splash proof
Dual motors
Twelve stimulation presets
Three levels of intensity
Phthalate free
Where was the passion? Where was the racing heart and the wet warmth between her thighs? She tugged at the vacuum-sealed plastic and got nowhere. These things were hard to open. She searched for a tear corner or a starting point. Nothing. How was a girl to liberate her plastic penis sealed in this kind of packaging? Scissors.
A quick trip out to the desk in the living room and she was back and armed for liberation. Even that took effort. Plopping down on the bed, she flung the plastic to the floor and held the silicone dildo up in victory. Then she stroked it, flexed it back and forth, wrinkled her nose as she smelled it.
It wasn’t nearly as sexy as she’d hoped.
And now, quite honestly, she’d grown tired of the whole idea. Deeming her first foray into sex toys a failure, she gathered up the pile of products and deposited them in a messy heap on her dresser.
Deflated and defeated, she flopped onto the mattress and pulled the duvet over her head. No wonder her love life was such a mess—she didn’t even want to have sex with herself.
The whistled signal sounded from the front of the warehouse and Seth nodded to Hark. “You good, my brother?”
The Nubian nodded and opened their way. He appreciated working with Taharqa. The silence truly was golden. With skin as dark as a mining tunnel in a blackout and a mood to match, Hark lived the adage, “If you’ve got nothing nice to say, say nothing at all.”
That suited him just fine.
The two of them entered from the back, guns up, ears and eyes open. After centuries of working the streets together, first in Europe, then the new world when settlement expanded, they were one synchronized unit.
Hark shifted left and he scanned right. Stacked wooden skids. Forklifts. Storage racks. The rubber soles of their boots whispered over concrete as they cleared the loading area and started up a short corridor toward the front of the building.
The plans Danel sent them showed the abandoned plastics factory as a two-story maze, with offices at the front, shipping and warehouse at the back, and the industrial plant in between.
If only life were so simple.
If daemons nested, there was no telling what they’d find.
As if on cue to that, a soft whimper came from the shadows on the right.
Seth signaled that he’d check it out while Hark held the line.
The pervasive darkness offered his heightened eyesight nothing but dull, gray silhouettes. With his gun aimed and positioned close to his chest, he outed his moonstone from his pocket.
He brushed a thumb across the smooth feldspar and uttered the words to fire the ancient runes to life. A beam of Heaven’s light erupted from the stone and sliced the darkness.
What the fuck?
Four long rows of cages, floor to rafters, extended into the depths of the building. Inside each of the four-by-four cage cubes, slumped and bound to wheelchairs, sat the bodies of captives. Djinn. Ice Demons. Rugaru.
All tortured and dead by the looks of them.
W.T.F. Seriously.
Shifting between the first two rows, Seth tapped the comm in his ear. “I’ve got a nightmare of fucked up back here, boys. Watch yourselves.”
With the hair on his nape doing a jig, he panned the scene. Not much blood. No flies. The stench of excrement and rot grew as he waded deeper. They must have started the torturing at the back wall and moved inward.
“The cavalry is here, people. Who’s still breathing?”
At least one person in this mess was alive. He’d heard him.
A soft shuffle drew him around the row he was on and into the next. He found a kid, bound to a wheelchair like the others, his head shaved, and locked in some kind of metal torture gear. By the look of him, he wasn’t going to last much longer.
Shit. “I’m getting you out of there, kid. Stay with me.”
The Nephilim weapon of the heavens, a Crystalline dagger, was wicked sharp and could slice and dice anything from the three realms—metal, bone, concrete, marble.
Liiiike butter, baby.
Seth severed the lock on the boy’s cage and checked for booby-trapping before he pulled it open. His moonstone caught a row of silver tubes along the steel framing that gave him pause. The tubes were bundled along the wall, wired together in a long sequence like linked sausage.
“Hark, what do you make of that?”
Hark joined him, panned the room once with his gun, and then leaned in to study what he lit up. He straightened and hit his comm. “We’ve got pipe bombs rigged like dominoes back here. Looks like a trip trigger, but there could be a remote.”
Zander growled in their ears. “Everyone, fall back. Now.”
As Hark started to backpedal, Seth pushed into the cage and went for the boy. Phoenix had been this kid—a throwaway, tortured and forgotten. No one deserved to die like that. He hadn’t given up on his brother, and he wouldn’t give up now.
“Don’t,” Hark snapped. “Z said now.”
“I’m not leaving him.” Seth cut the bindings on the kid’s boney wrists and ankles. “You go. I’m right behind you.”
Hark cursed and started working the kid’s headgear. “Look at him. He’s dead already.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But he’s somebody’s son and deserves a chance to get home.”
Once Hark had the boy’s head free, he evacuated the cage. Seth slung the boy over his shoulder and the minute he lifted him, the chair let off a high-pitched whine.
“That can’t be good.” Seth bolted as fast as his powerful legs could propel him. He beat feet, racing after the Nubian as the world around them burst into high-velocity shrapnel.
The ping and crash of metal debris deafened. He knew the minute the first shards pierced his flesh that he was in serious trouble. “Red metal,” he gasped, pushing hard for the back exit. His thighs and arms burned as poisonous missiles shredded his muscles.
The paralytic of the alloy kicked in and he went down like a stone. Pain exploded from everywhere all at once. The only silver-lining: Hark was far enough ahead that he’d made it to the door. His brother would survive.
Zander rose from beneath the debris-wave that kicked their asses the moment they cleared the front of the plastics warehouse. The ring in his ears knocked him off-kilter but he didn’t have time for things to settle. The building hadn’t completely come down in ruins. Parts of it swayed like a drunken mofo in a windstorm—except no wind.
He searched the scene. Kyrian. Bo. Brennus. “Phoenix, check in!”
An explosion of rubble to his right brought the Egyptian back into sight. Fists clenched, wings stretched to their fifteen-foot span, his skin glowed with the rage of his dark-side. The male was truly, fucking pissed. He launched with purpose toward what was left of the building.
Hark came over the comm. “Seth is not clear.”
Fuck. That got all of them on their feet and on their way. “Seth,” he said into his comm as he launched into the night to get an aerial view. “Speak up, my brother. You good?”
Nothing.
Phoenix landed at t
he back entrance of the factory and looked for a way in. The building was a Jenga stack about to topple. He didn’t care about getting crushed—that wouldn’t kill him. He didn’t want to cause further damage to his brother when the guy was next to dead. At least he hoped they were dealing with “next to” dead.
His connection with Seth had flared with the impaling of red-metaled projectiles. He’d felt his twin’s agony. He’d felt his determination. And then their link dropped to silence.
For the first time since they were boys playing on the riverbank of the Nile, he couldn’t sense his other half.
Not his presence. Not his petulance. Nothing.
“There.” Zander pointed from above. “Phoenix, materialize forty feet ahead and ten to your right. That’s your best bet.”
Phoenix drew a steadying breath and tried to focus enough to dematerialize. Fuck. He was too wound. His hold on things was shot and his dark side seethed.
Between one moment and the next, metal scraped and something shifted. The last section of the building collapsed.
Damn it.
“He wouldn’t leave the kid,” Hark said.
Asshole. Seth would die because he had to play the fucking hero. Riddled with metal, he wouldn’t last long under this POS concrete and steel mangle mountain.
Senseless. Stupid. So-fucking-Seth.
Dark magic surged and snapped Phoenix’s hold.
With a silent cry of rage, he focused on the debris covering his twin and released the kraken. If he couldn’t get into the building, he’d move the fucking building.
“Holy Hell!” Bo yelled beside him. “Get him out, Z.”
“Greek, follow me.” Zander flew down and disappeared behind crags of a jagged building skeleton.
Phoenix held strong, the weight of the building testing every muscle, while the total release of his bottled-up powers burst from him like the greatest orgasm he’d ever had.
Power burned in his cells and lit him up.
Dark energy flowed with consuming certainty—arrogance, actually. This was who he was, and screw any and all who tried to hold him back. He was a dark witch, a Nephilim Watcher, a fucking powerhouse all his own.
His vision fritzed. Somewhere in his distant mind, he knew he’d gone full dark angel and that relinquishing control would cost him. He didn’t give two shits.
Brennus cursed from the sidelines of the clusterfuck that was their night. The explosion had drawn human attention and the sirens of Toronto first responders grew ever closer. He dialed up Colt and prayed the cop was on duty.
“How bad is the exposure?” Colt asked, after he explained.
“At the moment, Phoenix has gone full-witch-Jackson and is hovering half a factory in the air. Kyrian and Zander are beneath the destruction, and with our luck, will fly out with Seth exactly as the cavalry arrives.”
“Fuck me. Okay, I’m on my way.”
The Ice Demon’s words sparked images of the two of them in Austin’s horse ring a few weeks ago. He had fucked Colt—or rather, had been fucked. It had been a moment of anger and emotion. They hadn’t seen one another or spoken since.
Awkward.
Now was soooo not the time to go there.
He dialed Danel next. “Have ye been listening in, Persian?”
The sound of footfalls and heavy breathing sounded on the other end of the phone. “Yeah. Drina’s prepping at the clinic and called Cato down. Have they found him yet?”
“Z and the Greek are looking.”
“Keep me posted. I’m heading home now to donate blood.”
Brennus hung up and rubbed his stomach. The firetrucks were a block away—two, at most. Their sirens echoed against the heart-stopping still of the night. More than the worry for his brother’s safety, or the pending exposure, he couldn’t stop thinking that the release of this much dark magic was going to leave a sasquatch-sized footprint.
And an evil one at that.
He cursed and dialed a third number. “Hey, sorry ta wake ye, lass. We have a big problem and need yer help. Yep. I’m sendin’ Bo to fetch ye now. Meet him out front.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Zander’s heart stopped the moment he located Seth under a section of fallen wall. If the guy lived, it would be a miracle. Clutching a mangled boy to his chest, the Egyptian twin was ripped to shit and utterly motionless. “Kyrian. Help me.”
Kyrian cursed as he got a look. He felt the boy’s neck and then laid him to the side. “Give me one sec with Seth to see if there’s anything I can stabilize before we move him.”
Zander scanned the building hovering above them. “Literally, my brother, you’ve got one second.”
“We’re outta time, lads,” Brennus said over the comm. “We’re up the creek. Humans are floodin’ up the street like ants to a picnic. We’re fucked.”
Zander didn’t have enough foul language in his extensive vocabulary to curse that properly. The Archangels would take this out on them in pain and blood.
Controlling exposure was their primary mission.
And they were the ones holding up the supernatural red flag and waving in the air.
“I’ve got Colt here, Z,” Hark said in his ear. “He set up a safety perimeter down the block. It’ll keep the masses back but there will be inspectors and engineers coming.”
Kyrian slung the kid over his shoulder and grabbed Seth’s ankles with both hands. “Are we good to fly out of here?”
“We’re set with a diversion when you’re ready.”
Zander grabbed Seth’s wrists and lifted. Holy hernia, the guy weighed as much a giant redwood. “Sweet Lady, let this work. Count us off, Hark.”
“Okay, in five. Four. Three. . ..”
Storme waited until Bo stomped the brakes and slammed the Navigator into park. They bailed out as one, tearing down a back alley which led to the wharf. She didn’t need him to point the way because she could feel Phoenix’s energy polluting the night air. She wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in Toronto could feel it.
Despite Phoenix’s anger toward his twin, no one could ever underestimate the bond between the two. Her breath escaped her lips in white cloud bursts as they ran, her eyes streaming from the snap of the wind coming off the water.
They entered a demolition zone—
An explosion went off in the next building.
And another in the third building one down.
Bo wrapped himself around her like a living shield and held her tight as the ground shook beneath their feet. “What the fuck?” she shouted.
A second later, he let her go. “S’all good. Just Brennus’s idea of a distraction. It gave Z and Kyrian time to fly out of the rubble with Seth.”
“Thank the goddess they found him. That will make this easier.” Storme rounded the last corner and wanted to take that back. She’d heard the stories of Zander going Jackson but had never imagined how terrifying the dark angel loss of control could be.
Phoenix stood arms outstretched, his entire body vibrating and pulsing with dark energy. His Mark had the scene lit up like a night game at BMO Field, and his eyes had flipped solid white. “Oh. My. Goddess.”
Brennus turned to her and shook his head. “I’m rethinkin’ ye bein’ here now, lass. He put the building down once they got Seth out but he’s still out of his heed. If he hurt ye, he’ll never forgive himself . . . or me.”
Storme wasn’t afraid of that. Even out of his mind, he’d never hurt her. “Phoenix? You okay, big guy?”
Phoenix turned, his leather Watcher’s vest flared up like a cape behind him. Mine.
She didn’t understand the violence in his thoughts until she realized that Brennus held her by the arm and Bo blocked her way. “I appreciate the gallantry, boys, but you need to back off and give me some space. Right now, would be good.”
Storme checked the sightlines of the surrounding buildings and wondered how they did it—always watching over their shoulders, always worried about exposure.
The red-and-blue lights fro
m emergency services trucks weren’t nearly far enough away. The constant blink and flash spoke to how badly they needed to leave.
“Now, boys. Seriously.”
“We won’t go far, lass. If ye need us, we’re here.”
“He won’t hurt me. I can’t guarantee the same for you.”
Phoenix’s two brothers-in-arms slowly raised their hands and eased away. Once they were around the corner of the next building, their footsteps silenced. She knew they’d materialize to a vantage point somewhere close by.
Phoenix’s hands relaxed a little when the two of them were alone. She curled her finger in the air and smiled. “If I’m yours, Warrior, come claim me.”
She took a step backward and he crouched to launch.
The sight of him, more beast than male, spiked a level of sexual adrenaline inside her which defied logic. “Look at you, glowing against the night, your body taut with power. So sexy.”
Her backward retreat drew him step-by-step from the open. He tracked her movements like a predator, keeping her within striking distance. She undid the belt of her coat and let the two ends of the tie fall loose. Next came the buttons.
“Fly me somewhere private, big guy. I want—” She caught her heel on debris and stumbled. Her arms windmilled, but she needn’t have panicked. Before she even had the chance to fall, Phoenix caged her in his embrace and launched into the night.
“My hero,” she said, tucking her face into his neck.
The bitter snap of wind assaulted her hair. She nuzzled the wide velvet choker that bound them and purred against the warmth of his throat.
As his bonded mate and familiar, she eased him body and soul. As his wife, she loved him to the stars and beyond.
“Mine,” she said, kissing the end of his brutal, childhood scar. “You’re mine, big guy. Don’t you forget it.”
Brennus sent Bo and Hark back to the clinic to check on Seth before texting Colt that he’d skulk around in the shadows until the cop could break away. When the Ice Demon finally jogged over, Brennus had scripted himself the perfect, non-committal welcome.