by Melody Raven
Marcus laughed softly. “Not the reaction I was expecting after rescuing you from a very big fall.”
A corner of Gena’s mouth lifted. “Well, I didn’t expect my knight in shining armor catching me in midair to hurt so much.”
“That gravity is a bitch,” he muttered.
Gena was unable to hold herself back as she reached up and passionately kissed him, releasing all of the fear and sadness that had consumed her ever since she’d seen him dragged away from her.
“You do realize you’re in a room full of people,” came the amused voice of Ironheart from behind them.
Gena glanced over her shoulder and was shocked to see the beautiful blonde standing over a dead John with a sword sticking out of his chest. Next to him were the broken shards of the key, and above them, the ceiling was back to normal. Except for the mess caused by the forceful winds, there was no sign the portal had ever been there.
“What happened to him?” Gena motioned to John’s lifeless body.
“Well, while you two were making out over there, this little bastard got a little upset when he saw his toy was broken. But, really, one way or another he was going to end up on my sword tonight. He just got himself impaled before I had a chance to interrogate him. Hopefully my men can catch some of his allies. They all went running as everything started turning to shit up there.”
Gena felt Marcus stiffen against her back. “We still don’t know who any of them are,” he said.
“You wouldn’t,” said Gena. Everyone looked at her curiously as she reminded herself that she was a semi-human in a room full of vampires, though at least right now most of them liked her.
“Why wouldn’t we?” asked a striking sandy-haired man in a tux that probably cost more than half of Gena’s yearly salary.
“They called that glowing glass thing I had a key. Keys open doors. I think that the key opened a doorway into wherever these rebels came from.”
A few people around her scoffed at the idea, but the secure feeling of Marcus’s arms wrapped around her gave her courage. “Laugh all you want, but I spent the bulk of my night with an angel who has been around longer than any of you. Vampires were never supposed to exist in this world. When they came over, the impact was so great that everyone’s destiny was changed.
“So where exactly did you come from?” asked Gena. Silence was her only answer. She continued, “I think that you and these attackers are from the same place. A doorway was opened thousands of years ago and vampires spilled into this plane. You all call these vampires rebels, but this is no civil war that you are facing. This is an invasion.”
“Your girlfriend is crazy, Marcus,” said Ironheart. “But I kind of like her.”
“You’re right about the crazy part,” came a voice from the crowd gathered around them.
“Said the vampire to the half angel,” muttered Gena. Ironheart’s face broke out in a grin.
The sandy-haired man stopped any further bickering by saying, “No matter how crazy this all sounds, no one can deny what they saw. Marcus, I would like to have a word with you and your human. Everyone else, please remember that the night is still young and this was supposed to be a celebration.”
“I am not human,” said Gena, reminding everyone listening that she was no mere mortal.
The man looked her up and down quickly. “I noticed.” He motioned them forward with his hand as he led the way down the hallway to a plush lounge.
Ironheart also followed them in and shut the door behind her.
“Does anyone want to let me know what the fuck is going on?” asked the man in a quietly pissed-off voice.
Gena looked questioningly to Marcus but kept her mouth shut.
“Obviously none of this was supposed to happen, Aleksander.”
“You had the time to tell me that I should hire extra security, but no way to tell me why or that I should be on the lookout for bombs and non-humans who don’t die?”
Marcus protectively stepped in front of Gena, which didn’t go unnoticed by Aleksander. “Things escalated much more quickly than I anticipated. We both underestimated the skill and numbers of our enemy.”
“You mean the ones from the other dimension,” he said, disbelievingly.
Gena couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “How can you be so skeptical, knowing what you know and being what you are?”
“Maybe I don’t rejoice in the idea of an otherworldly invasion!” shouted Aleksander. A threatening growl came from Marcus's throat. Ironheart didn’t move, but Gena saw her cautiously eying the situation.
“No one wants this,” said Ironheart in a calm voice. “But now that we know, we can prepare ourselves. As troubling as the events of this evening have been, we can count tonight as a win. You should celebrate with your guests.”
Aleksander took a calming breath. “You’re right. We did save a lot of people tonight.” His gaze found Gena. “Thanks to you,” he added.
Gena found Marcus’s hand and intertwined her fingers with his. “Don’t mention it,” she muttered, her adrenaline-fueled courage fading away as it finally sunk in that she was in a room with the vampire king and a famous vampire mercenary.
Aleksander looked to Marcus. “Can I assume that we will be seeing more of her?”
“It’s a safe bet,” he responded, reassuringly squeezing Gena’s hand.
Aleksander nodded in approval. “I hope to see you back at the compound on Monday. Apparently the Council has a lot of work ahead of them. You, too, Marie,” he said to Ironheart.
“I am no Council member,” protested Ironheart.
“Nonetheless, I hope we can count on your experiences to help us in our time of need.” He calmly left the room to go back to the party, making it clear he was not issuing an order, but a request.
Ironheart rolled her eyes at his retreating back. “Fucking royalty,” she muttered as she followed him out, leaving Marcus and Gena.
“That was, um, intense,” said Gena once she and Marcus were alone.
For a moment, he just stared at her, and Gena was suddenly self-conscious. Was he upset that she’d “come out” to his people? “It makes sense, you know? They said they had an army and you couldn’t figure out where they came from. Now we know.”
He tightened his grip on her hand before he pulled her in close. In one swift move, Marcus’s mouth covered hers. His free hand cupped the back of her neck as she kissed him back, the stress of the night all exploding into one fierce embrace.
But before she could push him up against the nearest wall and take things further, he pulled back. “I need to go to the compound,” he said breathlessly. “If they truly do have an army, I need to help Aleksander mobilize our forces.”
She nodded. Gena understood why he needed to go, but there was one lingering question she couldn’t bear to not ask. “If you’re going back with Aleksander, where does that leave me?” asked Gena, afraid to hear the answer. Or rather, where did it leave us?
He blinked down at her as though confused by the question. “You’re coming with me.” The rush of relief that filled her was cut off a second later when he continued, “Considering your mother, you have access to priceless information about these rebels.”
“Oh.” He was right. She might just end up being an asset in this, and for the first time, that didn’t freak her out. She’d looked all those vampires in the eye and held them off. She’d saved the entire building and countless humans and vampires alike. It was rather refreshing to not feel useless for the first time since Ryan had killed her.
“One more thing,” said Marcus.
Gena’s heart kicked up a notch as she met his gaze. “Yes?”
“I love you.”
She stared up at him, practically in awe that he’d said the words. “Really?”
He frowned. “Yes, really. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”
Warmth seemed to spread from her heart to all her limbs as she tried to convince herself she wasn’t imagining things. “You love
me, right? Not Mary.”
“Mary isn’t the one I just caught while taking a swan dive trying to save my people. Mary isn’t the one I almost tore my hands off to get to. And Mary isn’t the one who has been haunting me ever since the moment you walked into my life. Same person or different, I love you, Gena. Please come with me. Let me keep you safe.”
Gena supposed a more experienced, sophisticated woman would make him sweat a few seconds, but she didn’t even think twice before pulled him down for a kiss. When she finally came up for air, she smiled up at him. “And I can keep you safe too,” she reminded him.
“We’ll keep each other safe,” he amended. “You, me, and Lady, right?”
She was suddenly reminded of the other stray she’d picked up along the way. “You, me, Lady...and Ryan.” Before the shock could wipe away his happiness, Gena kissed him once more. “I’ll tell you all about it on the way to Canada,” she promised. “It’s a long story.”
~~~THE END~~~
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Check out Book 3 in the Evil Rising series; HER VERY OWN DEMON!
Kier has been haunting Muriel's nightmares. He's handsome, sure. Every demon is. But he's more devious than the others. More ruthless than the rest. More deserving of revenge.
Ever since he ripped off her wings and reduced her to e mere mortal, Muriel has been planning the perfect revenge. It might not be fun and it might not be pleasant, but she's not going to just kill him. She wants to give him what he took from her. A soul.
And once she has him bound to her with magical handcuffs, there will be nothing he can do to prevent whatever angelic energy she has left over from corrupting him. And spending that much time with a demon won't be pleasant, but it will be worth it.
At least it shouldn't be pleasant. It shouldn't be hot. It shouldn't be tempting. But "shouldn't" is what her demon specializes in...
Read on for an excerpt from HER VERY OWN DEMON!
Pain flooded Muriel’s mortal body as she lay immobile on the cold stone floor. The screaming agony of ruptured organs and fractured bones flowed through her with every breath.
She cursed her own vulnerability. Just days ago, she had been one of the most powerful creatures in the universe. She could defeat an entire army of lesser demons with her bare hands. One cold look from her would cause humans to quiver with fear. Now, just a handful of Azazel’s men rendered her powerless body irreparably damaged.
Through the pain, she creaked out a defiant smile. It didn’t matter anymore. She had distracted the demons, thereby allowing Samuel and his mate to escape sure death. He would survive and stop the apocalypse, just as the prophecies foretold, and her self-sacrifice would earn her way back into Heaven. As soon as her mortal heart stopped beating, she would have her wings back.
Her lungs forced a breath up and out of her throat and she tasted blood mixing with the air on her tongue. The hard tip of a boot slammed into her ribs, and Muriel steeled herself against the pain and now familiar sound of bones breaking. Bring it. The harder they beat her, the faster she would rise as a gloriously powerful angel.
Another foot kicked her in the side of the head, and her entire world went black. She regained consciousness and instinctively rolled into the fetal position even though she knew she was already as good as dead.
A rough voice shouted, but she didn’t have the energy to look up. Blood poured from the newly opened head wound, and she wasn’t sure whether she could see, even if she tried. The menacing presence of the demons surrounding her retreated; she rolled onto her back and fought the urge to cough up more blood. Every cough put pressure on her cracked and broken ribs as the shooting pain threatened to pull her back into unconsciousness.
A demon stood over her. She felt his looming presence. Why didn’t he strike? She tried to see him then. She focused on opening her swollen eyelids, but she couldn’t get them to move. She might not be able to see him, but his presence was still there. Still promising pain. “It’s not every day we get a fallen angel down here.” The demon’s voice was surprisingly close to her face. He must have been kneeling just above her.
A shiver of fear snaked through her, but she shook it off. Pain didn’t scare her. She was secure in the knowledge that she had sacrificed herself to save a mortal and would be getting her wings back.
“All of your organs are bleeding inside your body, yet you still manage to look smug,” he sneered above her. “Fucking angels,” he muttered.
She would have loved to tell him where he could shove it, but it was impossible for her to speak, what with the blood filling her lungs and all.
He whispered close to her ear; his warm breath sent a shiver down her spine. “Did you really think we would let you back into Heaven?”
A few drops of warm liquid fell against her lips. Adrenaline surged, giving her the strength to open her bruised eyes. She tried to evade the blood, but he was much faster than her.
One fist curled in her hair as a strong wrist with a neat gash through the veins was pushed against her mouth. His forearm blocked her nose. “Drink up, my angel.”
Muriel willed herself to suffocate before she ingested any of the vile substance, but her damn mortal instincts caused her mouth to open and lurch for air to aid her injured lungs. Even before she took her first swallow, his blood trickled down her throat.
The substance quickly traveled through all corners of her being as she screamed against the wrist still being forced to her mouth. Her own ice blue eyes met the dark eyes of the demon as she committed his features to memory.
She was no longer an angel, so she could not feel her soul, but she knew that drinking a demon’s blood would forever darken even the purest soul. As the dark magic filled her, healing her wounds and soothing her pains, her soul was being corrupted. Destroyed.
The demon smiled and drew his bloody wrist away from her. “’Til we meet again, angel,” he mocked.
In the space of a heartbeat, he was gone, transported to only God knew where. When she glanced around the dark basement, Muriel saw that all the demons were gone.
As the pain of the savage beating left her body, it was replaced with a simmering rage that no true angel would ever feel.
Every angel knew that a soul tarnished by demon blood could never enter Heaven. The demon ensured Muriel would never get her wings back.
She let out a gut-wrenching scream loud enough to cause the earth to quake. No matter if she had to move Heaven and Earth, his soul was hers.
Five Years Later
Muriel couldn’t believe her eyes when he walked into Alexander’s Restaurant, flanked by three other demons. Though each one was eye-catching in their own right, it was the one who led the pack who drew her attention. He was gorgeous, but that wasn’t surprising. Demons relied on good looks to lure mortals to sin and depravity.
He easily surpassed six feet, and his dark hair and eyes were purposefully sculpted for seduction. Thousands of innocents had doubtless thrown themselves at his feet in the past. She couldn’t suppress a scowl at the thought.
Muriel was no innocent. She supposed she lost any innocence she might’ve had long before she lost her wings. As an angel, her mission was to make sure that destiny unfolded as it was meant to, despite the free will of mortals.
She was essentially a soldier, and she had been a good one. She used to walk into a room, and all beings within hearing distance would go silent with respect. On the few occasions she allowed mortals to see her, they bowed at her feet.
Now, she was lucky if they deemed her services good enough for a twenty percent tip. Pride was a very human emotion that she’d grown fond of. She was proud of her angelic self and she wanted it back. There was no shame in being a waitress, but she never chose this life. She hated that he’d taken away her choice.
It was ironic she was so angry at the demon for taking away her choice to be an angel considering angels, by their very nature,
had no free will. When given orders, they followed. No questions asked.
Even now, Muriel couldn’t say she regretted how she lost her wings. She needed to keep her human charge alive, no matter what. He was destined to stop the apocalypse, and she was tasked with protecting his destiny. When a mortal tried to kill him, she used a non-lethal telekinetic blast to push him back. The fact that there was a window right behind the attacker was just a sad coincidence.
She was accepting of her temporary mortal status, fully believing that she would regain her angelic powers soon enough, as long as she sacrificed herself for a mortal. The son of a bitch who just walked into her diner apparently had other plans.
Muriel reached into her apron pocket to grasp at the cold metal hidden inside.
Angie, the other waitress at Alexander’s, nudged Muriel in the shoulder. “When’s the last time you saw that much tall, dark, and handsome all in one spot?” she asked mischievously.
Muriel pondered the question before she realized it was rhetorical. She mentally shook her head at her confusion. Five years living as a mortal and she could still get tripped up over such small things.
“That many attractive men is never a good sign,” pointed out Muriel, not wanting her friend to get wrapped up with demons.
Angie was a sweetheart who was waitressing on top of taking care of two kids and a husband and still managed to take a night class on the side. Her thick black hair was tied up in a tight bun, but somehow she still managed to look soft and feminine.
She also had the good fortune of being able to eat all of the greasy restaurant food she wanted without gaining an ounce. Muriel would eat one plate of fries and have to spend the weekend in the gym just to even it out.
Now that she was mortal, she took extra good care of her body. She only had a limited number of years before her soul would fade away into nothing, and she was determined to get the most out of it, even if that meant going to the gym five times a week and not taking advantage of the free meals offered by the restaurant to its waitresses.