by Sadie Hobbes
Of course, in the current situation, I had pretty much done exactly that.
Double crap.
I wrenched myself from the man’s arms, not even turning to look at him. “I’m so sorry.”
A deep chuckle emitted from the man’s chest. “No, not at all. My fault for opening the door.”
I prepared myself to see disdain in the man’s face, or maybe some arrogance. Instead, I met warmth from a pair of dark-brown, nearly black eyes. Eyes I recognized. Everyone in Sterling Peak did.
At six foot five with the build of a Viking, Graham Michael, the Commander of the Seraph Force, smiled down at me. His mother was from China, his father from Sweden. The combination made for a widely attractive son. I’d only seen him from afar, but I’d heard more than one citizen of Sterling Peak comment on the fact that they'd like to do more than just look at the devastatingly handsome Seraph Force leader.
But that was not a world that I involved myself in, not even in my imagination. I liked to keep my daydreams within the realm of possibility. The baker for the Camiels? Possible. Manny Sanchez’s cousin who visited last summer? Possible and better in my imagination than reality.
The Commander of the Seraph Force? I might as well daydream about living in one of these houses as well.
The Seraph Force was the national security force charged with leading the fight against the demons. As Commander, Graham Michael was also the head of the Council of Light, the ruling body for all the nation. They made the laws that influenced every aspect of life. While he wasn’t a king, he presided over the meetings and determined the schedule. Each member of the Council had an equal vote and was from the seven ruling families: Michael, Gabriel, Rafael, Raguel, Remiel, Uriel, and Sasquael. Each family claimed a direct line to the archangels. Which made Graham Michael the most powerful and therefore the most sought after man on the continent.
I ducked my head down. “Commander Graham, I’m so sorry, really. Is there anything I could get you? Breakfast, perhaps?” Due to the fact that the same families always ran the Seraph Force, all members were addressed by their title and their first name.
“No, no, I’m fine. I grabbed breakfast back at my place. I just came to check on Donovan.” He waved his hand back in the door.
Lying on the bed, shirtless and with a white sheet covering him from the waist down, was Lieutenant Commander Donovan Gabriel. He and Graham had an almost identical build and height. But whereas Graham’s face was a merging of Chinese and Caucasian features, Donovan’s face only held pure Persian ancestry.
Together, the two often made conversations come to an abrupt halt when they stepped into a room. Words seemed to dry up in most women’s and a few men’s mouths at the sight of them. Add in that Donovan was Graham’s second in command of the nation’s most lethal security force, and well, the two of them were the stars of more than a few individual’s fantasy lives.
“I’m sorry we made so much work for you.” Graham kept his focus on me as he talked. Most Angel Blessed barely acknowledged our existence. And receiving that kind of attention from Graham, well, my words seemed to dry up a little bit too.
“Um, that’s fine just fine. It’s no problem.”
Hanging onto the bannister, his breath labored, Nigel appeared at the top of the stairs.. “Commander Graham … I just learned … you were here. What can I get you, sir?”
Graham gave Nigel an amiable smile. “Nothing, Nigel. I’m fine. Your excellent staff has already offered me breakfast, but I’m afraid I have to hurry off.”
“Let me escort you down, then. Addison, if you’re done, Ingrid could use your help with the buffet.”
“Yes, of course.” I grabbed the basket and hurried down the stairs ahead of them, listening as Nigel made small talk with Graham. I glanced over my shoulder, noting that Graham moved at Nigel’s pace, even though the older man was going much slower than Graham could take the stairs.
I shifted my gaze to Graham’s face and saw he was watching me as well. Heat flared in my cheeks. I turned around, picking up my pace, but an infinitesimal part of me felt warm and not just from the sight of him. He’d taken his time walking with Nigel. It was a kind thing to do.
Huh, maybe some of these guys weren’t as bad as I thought. But almost as soon as I had the thought, I banished it from my mind. Nope, I was not going down that road. Even though I could only remember the last two years of my life, I’d heard of way too many girls who’d thought one of the Angel Blessed were kinder than they’d been taught, only to learn that that kindness only lasted as long as a woman’s willpower to say no.
I hurried down the stairs, wincing as I realized how unhappy Mrs. Uriel would be if she saw me going through the front foyer with a basket full of dirty dishes and clothes. Luckily, no one was around, and she was still in bed. I had another thirty minutes before I needed to wake her up. I darted down the hall, glancing into the dining room as I passed. Inside were three guests, and fourteen-year-old Nathan, the houseboy. Nathan was George’s nephew and the reason George stayed on at the estate, even though as a former member of the Seraph Force he had a retirement savings that would see him through.
I dropped the basket in the workroom and then hurried into the kitchen.
At the kitchen island, Beth blew at a piece of hair that had slipped out of her bun while she rolled dough. “The natives are getting restless. Poor Ingrid is being run off her feet going up and down the stairs delivering food and drinks.”
“What do you want me to do?”
She nodded to the prep room. Through the open doorway I could see serving trays lined up on the counter inside. “Take the chafing dishes out, fill whatever needs to be filled, and then you can help out Ingrid.”
I nodded and hurried over to the trays. I could easily stack them all and carry them out, but I also knew that would not go over well. Instead I stacked two and carried them out, backing out the door into the dining room.
“Oh, let me help you with that.”
I looked up into the face of D’Angelo Rafael. D’Angelo was another member of the Seven and had the looks that seemed to confirm his angelic heritage. Wavy blond hair and piercing blue eyes above sharp cheekbones looked down at me with a smile. Before I could say anything, D’Angelo had taken the top tray from me and walked toward the buffet.
I narrowed my eyes, wondering at his game. Because while D’Angelo might look like an angel, he was anything but.
A quick glance of the room showed that Amon Michael was there. Amon was a college friend of Hunter and from a Michael family in the Chicago area. Like the Michael family here in Sterling Peak, the Chicago Michaels were incredibly wealthy, with their hands in many pies. And they had a daughter who, according to the staff scuttlebutt, D’Angelo was very interested in marrying.
Not because he was in love with her. As far as anyone knew, he’d never even met her. He wanted an arranged marriage that would solidify his status as the wealthiest member of the Seraph Force. He would take the Michael last name when they married. The connection with the Michael family might be enough to solidify him as the next leader of the Seraph Force should anything happen to Commander Graham.
Amon watched D’Angelo walk over to the table and place the tray upon it. I couldn’t read his expression to see if D’Angelo’s chivalrous act impressed him or if he saw through the façade.
I walked toward the table, keeping my eyes down. “Thank you, Major D’Angelo.”
D’Angelo laughed. “I’ve told you, just call me D’Angelo.”
I nearly laughed out loud. D’Angelo had spoken to me half a dozen times. And each time he’d looked right through me. He preferred girls younger and blonder. I was pretty sure he did not remember me at all. And he’d definitely never told me to call him by his first name.
I gave a stiff nod and turned my attention to the trays of food. D’Angelo grabbed a biscuit and a glass of orange juice and said something to Amon before heading for the door. He left the glass on the edge of the table.
> I watched him go with narrowed eyes. D’Angelo Rafael was everything that was wrong with the Angel Blessed. He was wealthy, attractive, and had way too much power for someone without compassion.
A pair of warm dark brown eyes floated through my mind, and an unfamiliar stirring erupted in my stomach. Nope, Graham Michael was just like all the others. And even if he was kinder, he was still completely, totally, and irrevocably off-limits.
Chapter 6
Graham
The Uriels’ butler was getting on in years. Graham could tell that he was having trouble managing the stairs now. He knew for a fact that the Uriels would fire him as soon as he no longer proved up to the tasks of his job.
Major Tess Uriel, a members of the Seven—and as she put it, an unfortunate relative of these Uriels—was considering buying a cottage overlooking the river. She would rarely be there and would need some help maintaining it. Perhaps he could suggest Nigel to her.
He shook the man’s hand at the door. He’d known Nigel for years. He was close friends with Mary and Franklin, who ran his house. “Thank you, Nigel. I appreciate you taking care of all of us.”
Nigel beamed as he held open the door. “Oh, it’s a pleasure, Commander Graham. A pleasure.”
Graham stepped outside, but he couldn’t resist taking a quick look back into the foyer.
The maid with those incredible blue eyes had disappeared. She always did. He’d seen her on more than one occasion, usually from afar. Something about her drew his attention every time. He thought it was the confidence. Most servants walked around with their shoulders slumped, trying not to garner any attention. She did the same, but he got the impression it was an act. There was a strain of confidence that ran through her when she met your gaze. She knew what the rules were and how to follow them, but she didn’t believe in them. And something about that was incredibly arresting. Of course, her looks were plenty arresting as well.
Graham shook his head as he made his way down the Uriels’ steps, pushing the woman from his mind. He didn’t interact with anyone else’s staff. He’d had a few relationships, and they had been just that, relationships. He would not be one of those ones living down to the reputation of Angel Blessed taking whatever they wanted.
He rolled his shoulders, thinking about Donovan still asleep upstairs. Graham had left after the meeting last night, but Donovan had stayed on. Graham knew he should have stayed with him, but he couldn’t handle one of Hunter’s parties. The guy had the morals of a snake. And Donovan was a big boy. Plus, he’d been in a mood. It was best to just let him drink it off. But Donovan would have one hell of a headache for the rest of the day.
Graham supposed he shouldn’t be surprised by Donovan’s unusual bout of drinking. Donovan had mentioned that his brother and father were home. The three of them did not get along.
Or more accurately, his father and brother did not get along with Donovan.
Donovan was the firstborn which in most Angel Blessed homes made them the honored child. But not in the Gabriel home. Donovan was the only child of Sasha Gabriel’s first marriage, an arranged marriage. Donovan had inherited the dark good looks of his mother. She had died during childbirth, and Sasha had wasted no time remarrying. His younger brother was born just a year after her death.
Jayden, the younger Gabriel, was the spitting image of his father, with his blond hair, pale-brown eyes, and weak chin.
But the resemblance didn’t end at their looks. The two of them strongly believed that the Angel Blessed were indeed blessed by God. And with that blessing came the entitlement to all the spoils the world offered. The Demon Cursed, in their mind, had been put on this earth to serve them, to pay for the indignity of their birth. Graham had even heard ramblings that in his younger days, Chet had advocated for slavery for any Demon Cursed that broke the law.
Luckily, Donovan hadn’t really been raised by the senior Gabriel. Chet had taken his youngest son on tours of the world, wanting to show him everything that he felt he was owed one day. Donovan had never been invited along. Instead he spent his time at Graham’s home.
Not that Graham had a pleasant relationship with his own parents. But unlike Donovan, Graham was the second son, therefore the less important one. His older brother Brock got all the attention focused on him. He was the heir to the Seraph Force throne, a direct descendant of the archangel Michael. So it wasn’t unusual for Brock to go off with his father on trips all over the world, sometimes accompanied by Sasha and Jayden Gabriel as well as D’Angelo Rafael and his father. As a result, the three spoiled boys had become incredibly close.
And incredibly dangerous.
Before his death, Brock had been the Seraph Force leader. Graham’s father had been peacock proud. Their father had been unable to take on the role due to a club foot. A distant cousin, therefore, had taken on the position, but he’d since grown too old to continue. He’d moved east to head up one of the smaller Seraph Force Academies.
Brock had only led the Seraph Force, and by extension the Council of Light, for three years before he was killed in a demon attack. During that time, Brock had made his mark.
Graham had watched in growing horror as his brother encouraged the Seraph Force to punish any indiscretions by the Demon Cursed. He increased the penalties for even the most minor of infractions, while at the same time cutting wages and reducing food allotments sold in the markets down in Forks and across the nation.
His brother hadn’t been a man of compassion. He hadn’t been a man of integrity. And God help him, Graham believed the world was better off with him gone.
Graham hadn’t been in Sterling Peak when Brock was killed. After two years, he could no longer stand his brother's machinations. If he'd stayed, he probably wouldn't have survived much longer. His brother had made it a point to give him the most dangerous and least respectable assignments.
And every time he came back victorious, Brock stewed a little longer in his anger. Brock held his people’s allegiance by fear. Graham held the allegiance of his brothers- and sisters-in-arms through mutual respect. Brock had been determined to destroy that.
Graham had known it was only a matter of time before Brock’s vindictiveness got someone killed. So rather than letting it come to that, he took an assignment to accompany an occult professor named Marcus Jeffries on his research trip for the year. They’d traipsed the globe looking for patterns in the demon attacks, trying to find any information that would help turn the tide against the attacks, which only seemed to be increasing in frequency.
It had been Graham’s decision to go, but he’d been under no illusions that he would enjoy himself. So he’d been shocked to find himself fascinated with the professor’s research and fascinated by the professor himself. He’d planned on extending his assignment another year when word reached him of his brother’s death. He was immediately named the head of the Seraph Force.
For a moment, he’d thought about turning down the title. People had done it before. But, he knew the importance of his position. As the leader of the Seraph Force and the Council of Light, he set the rules for how demons would be engaged, how society would operate.
The last time he’d gotten drunk, it was with Marcus as they discussed the pros and cons of taking the position. Marcus had pressed upon him the good that he could accomplish as leader. If he had turned it down, Graham had no doubt that D’Angelo would have petitioned for Donovan to be set aside and for D’Angelo to be named the leader of the Seraph Force. If anything, D’Angelo was worse than Brock.
Graham couldn’t sit back and let that happen. If only a sliver of the policies his brother and his friends had contemplated came into play, life would get so much more difficult for the Demon Cursed.
The next morning he awoke with a pounding headache and with the realization that as much as he enjoyed the freedom of traveling with Marcus, he knew that he would need to return home.
So Graham returned home with the expectation that in a few short years he would step away, having hand-
picked a successor to take over. He didn’t want the power that came with the position, even though Marcus thought that was exactly why he should have it.
The door opened again behind Gabriel. A familiar head of blonde hair emerged. For a second, Graham wondered if he broke into a run if he’d be able to avoid him.
“Graham.”
He tensed, gritting his teeth as he turned to face D’Angelo. He focused on keeping his expression neutral, bordering on polite. “D’Angelo. Good morning. Late night for you as well?”
D’Angelo chuckled as he walked along the path. The sun played off his blond hair, almost making it look like he had a halo surrounding him. “The Uriels throw an excellent party. And there was a new serving girl who started. She is lovely.”
It was difficult for Graham to hold back his anger. He clasped his hands behind his back so he didn’t reach out and grab D’Angelo by the throat. Hunter also thought nothing of hitting on the young women or even girls of Forks. And neither of them, if the rumors were true, believed the word “no” was an acceptable response from any of their targets.
Yet D’Angelo was well-liked within Sterling Peak. He had that smooth veneer that never seemed to get ruffled. His good looks no doubt helped sway public opinion. So Graham knew he had to bite his tongue and bide his time. D’Angelo was well-connected with a lot of support.
Graham headed toward the fence, giving D’Angelo a nod. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do. It’s going to be a busy day.”
“Oh, yes, your professor friend is coming to town, isn’t he?”
Graham eyed D’Angelo, once again marveling at the man’s network of spies. Marcus’s arrival was a closely held secret. Yet again though D’Angelo demonstrated an ability to see through the security Graham had put into place. He was a formidable opponent. He might not be able to take Graham on the battlefield, but in the world of politics, he could run circles around Graham, and Graham well knew it.