Chapter Ten
Asmodeus’s residence was quiet tonight. In the four hours they’d crouched on the neighboring rooftop, no one had entered or exited. If it weren’t for the hint of interior lights visible from behind the curtained windows, Ronin might have thought the house was deserted.
An impatient breath escaped Keegan’s lips. “This is pointless. We’re not getting anywhere.”
“Looks like he’s on lockdown,” Taeg said. “He must suspect something’s up now that one of his murder weapons has gone missing.”
Ronin lowered his binoculars. “Change of plans?”
Keegan nodded. “Taeg, you go to Eros and see if you can learn anything new about Asmodeus or anyone who might work for him. We’re specifically searching for a way to break through that shield.”
“Done.”
“Dagan, you do the same at Opiate. Canvass all your contacts and see what you can find.” When Dagan broke into a smile, Keegan added, “You’re working tonight, not playing.”
“Got it, got it,” Dagan grumbled.
While Dagan and Taeg rose and left the rooftop, Ronin lifted the binoculars back to his eyes.
“Ronin, you research myths and legends that mention impenetrable shields, see if you can find anything useful there. I’ll stay here until daybreak.”
“Okay. Would sure as hell be helpful if we knew a dark fae whose abilities matched the one who raised this shield. He’d probably know how to counteract it.”
Keegan’s brows furrowed. “That’s the thing. I relayed to the Council what Amara told you, about the shield being created by a dark fae and not a mage. The Council members assure me they’re putting their feelers out, but they don’t know of any dark fae with such a high level of magic. They didn’t think there were any. The fact that a demon like Asmodeus managed to hook up with one is nothing short of a miracle.”
“Yeah well, the Council wouldn’t be as interested in Asmodeus if he were a small-time criminal. There must be something about him, if a powerful dark fae would agree to provide him support.”
Ronin surveyed the roof of the townhouse one last time. A hint of movement below caught his eye. He trained his binoculars on the spot—the third floor balcony, with its iron railing—and froze.
“Check out the third floor,” he barked to Keegan.
A man walked through the door leading inside the residence. He was bare-chested, wearing nothing more than black slacks, and his face had a smoothly handsome quality to it. Amara had told him the entire third level was Asmodeus’s private quarters. This had to be him.
The sudden rage that coursed through Ronin made him drop his binoculars and rise to his feet. When Keegan stood and reached out to stop him, he realized he’d unconsciously started to lift his sweater over his head so he could free his wings.
“You won’t be able to get through the shield,” Keegan quietly warned him. “We already tried approaching from above, remember? The only thing that going after him now will accomplish is letting him know he’s being watched.”
Shit. Keegan was right. Still, knowing that he was so close to the bastard and couldn’t do anything about it killed Ronin. The demon had hurt Amara. He would repay him in kind.
“We’ll get him.” Keegan squeezed his shoulder. “He’s living on borrowed time.”
His brother was right. Ronin deliberately relaxed his muscles and squatted back down. He lifted his binoculars for another peek.
Asmodeus stood in the same position, with his hands closed over the railing. He appeared to be seeking something out. What was anyone’s guess. Finally, he tilted his head in Ronin’s direction.
Ronin fought the urge to duck. Even if he did know someone watched him, there was no way Asmodeus would be able to see him from his vantage point. So why did it feel like the demon knew exactly where he was?
Something must have amused him, because Asmodeus’s lips curved upward. He turned and went back inside.
Ronin dropped the binoculars, squeezing his hands into fists so tight that one of his muscles tore with a slight pop. He ignored the twinge of pain. It would be fully healed within minutes anyway.
Forget the Council. Forget the bounty. When Ronin got his hands on that demon, it would be to kill him.
§
He hadn’t seen anyone suspicious outside his residence, but Asmodeus’s senses told him someone was there. Ordinarily, that would have pissed him off, but not this time. Not given what he’d discovered.
Asmodeus took a seat in his throne and stared into the scrying bowl in front of him. The mist cleared, so that now it appeared to be an ordinary glass bowl full of water.
Moments ago, when he’d finally gotten a lock on Amara, it had been far different. When he’d poured the scrying water into the bowl, vapor had risen and, within the steam, he’d gotten flashes of Amara’s whereabouts for the past day. Only bits and pieces, but enough for him to surmise what had happened to her. She’d been captured by three men who’d driven her away from the club. If that had been all, he would have been furious that someone had dared to meddle with his property and would’ve sought revenge. But when he’d described their images to Gofrey, his assistant had informed him they were the Detainors he sought.
This was an incredible twist of luck. The bounty hunters must have tracked Amara down for killing their brother.
As fate would have it, the bounty hunters were playing right into Asmodeus’s hands. Clearly, he’d been destined to gain ultimate power, to be indestructible. Perhaps that had been the reason for his misery as a young child. It had all been a test, to see if he would break. To make sure he was worthy of the power.
He must have proven that he was.
Now all he had to do was come up with a plan to lure the brothers here one by one, where he could trap them without as much difficulty as he’d face if he attempted to capture them together. Then he would have his succubi feed off them.
Asmodeus recalled the other information Gofrey had shared. “You know, there’s something about these brothers. I can’t remember what, but they aren’t your typical Detainors.”
Why hadn’t Gofrey mentioned that before? “What are they, then?”
“I’ll get back to you on that.”
He couldn’t help but be curious about these bounty hunters. His quest to collect abilities had attuned his senses toward the rare or unique, and they must be rare if Belpheg was so interested in them. He’d be very interested to learn just what made these brothers atypical.
Asmodeus pressed the intercom that fed down to the lower levels. “Gofrey. Any news on the Detainors?”
After a moment, the low buzz of static preceded the sound of Gofrey’s voice. “Nothing yet, master. I’ll let you know as soon I find something.”
“Good.” In the meantime, a lockdown had been ordered for all of his employees since Amara had gone missing, which meant that none of them had fed since yesterday. That was already far too long for him. “Oh, and Gofrey?”
“Yes?”
“Send Karen up to me.” He gave it a moment’s thought. “Also Briana and Victorine.”
“Very well.”
The lockdown would have to end soon. With any luck, he would have the brothers in his grasp by the end of the week.
§
Down below, on the dark, hellish land of Infernum, the air practically boiled from the heat of the day. But here, in the clouds, the soft, calming breeze caressed his skin. His flared wings. The wings of a child.
He laughed, the boyish sound of innocence, while he chased the flaxen-haired angel through the skies. She giggled with all the carefree joy of a young child and weaved to the right, clearly enjoying the chase. Their bond was so new yet so strongly woven. Family, if not blood.
Somehow he knew it was a dream. The shadow of an old memory. But he brushed that t
hought aside and treasured the moment.
She let him get within inches of her. His fingertips brushed her long hair. Then she shot off like a bolt of lightning. Faster than him. Always faster, despite her younger age. For she was a whole, while he was only half.
A tinkling laugh sounded from somewhere in the distance, stopping him short. He’d know that sound anywhere. It was Flavia. Mother.
“Xander, Lina, time to eat something,” she said. “Come on!”
Lina giggled again and flew off in the direction of the voice. He beat his wings, trying to follow, but he went nowhere.
“No.” Dread choked off his breath as he looked down toward his wings. They’d been clipped.
“No,” he choked out. Not again. Not again.
“No!”
Ronin sat up with a jolt, his heart hammering against his ribs. Disorientation set in, and it took him several long moments to realize he slept on the couch, in the living room of his apartment. Alone this time, since Dagan had decided to crash in his bedroom after getting back from Opiate with no news. Apparently, they were now trusting him not to be an idiot when it came to Amara.
That damn recurring dream. It brought with it the same feelings of dread and loss that he always felt upon awakening. He hadn’t had it for so long that he’d begun to think it forever gone. The timing of its return spoke volumes.
The dream was one of mourning, for things he’d had and lost. Like his mother. Like the flaxen-haired angel.
Like he was inevitably destined to lose Amara.
Despite the fact that he knew better, that he’d warned himself away, he was letting her get too close to him. They had obvious chemistry, and if this had been about pure sex, that would’ve been great. But it wasn’t, and not only because they couldn’t have it without him dying. Something about Amara touched his heart. She was the perfect blend of innocence and allure, of strength and vulnerability. Yet, like all the other women in his life, their time together wouldn’t last.
Would he be able to handle that?
Amara’s sexy, musky scent, the one that had tickled his senses for the past day, grew stronger. At first he thought he was imagining it, but when he heard the soft creak on the wooden floorboard outside of the living room, he realized it was her. She’d been asleep when he returned from his scouting mission, so he hadn’t woken her.
Ronin pushed the thin blanket covering his lower body to the side and swung his legs to the floor as Amara appeared at the entrance to the living room. Her movements were hesitant and her eyes questioning. Brynn and Maya must have visited her while they were out, because she wore a different outfit: gray cotton sleep pants with tiny pink hearts that were a few inches short at the ankles, and a matching gray tank top with a huge pink heart emblazoned on the chest. The top was a tad too tight and she wore no bra, the taut buds of her full breasts poking against the fabric. Beautiful, simply beautiful.
She hovered at the entryway without stepping farther inside, so he stood and walked over to her. “Something wrong?” he whispered.
“No, I...”
She blushed and, when she crossed her arms over her stomach, he understood what she was too embarrassed to say. Her body ached for sustenance. His heart wrenched even while his stupid cock hardened at the thought of foreplay with Amara.
Say no. Walk away from her while you still can. But he was past that point already. He couldn’t leave her hungry and in pain.
Very soon she’d have to really feed...even if the thought of what that entailed made him want to howl in agony. But for now, for tonight, he could ease her hunger.
Closing his hand over hers, he led her back down the hallway to his bedroom.
“Did you find anything at Asmodeus’s place?” she asked once he closed the door to the room.
“Nothing.”
Disappointment shone in her eyes. “No surprise there. He’s crafty. He probably won’t let her leave the townhouse now that I’m not there.”
“How does he keep her fed?”
Her smile was bitter. “Part of our deal was that he would let her feed at her own choosing, that he wouldn’t force her. But with me gone...”
Ronin closed his hands around her shoulders. “We’ll get him. I promise.”
“I know.” She moved one of her hands to his face, traced his mouth with her fingers. “You’re a man of your word, Ronin. I know you’ll do as you say.”
Unable to help himself, he caught her forefinger between his teeth and bit down on it lightly. Her eyes narrowed into slits and her back arched on a moan. Just like that, he lost his control. He closed his arms around her and lifted her, pressing his lips to hers while he carried her to the bed. When he bent over to lay her down, she wrapped her legs around his thighs, trapping him there.
“Don’t go,” she pleaded.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He placed a knee on the bed to support his weight while he reared back far enough that he could slip her tight cotton shirt over her head. Her full breasts enticed him with their pink, beaded nipples. He cupped them and laved one breast, then the other, rolling his tongue around the taut buds.
When she let out a cry and pulled his head in tighter, his cock hardened with painful intensity. The copious amounts of allure she emitted were almost unbearable. They made him ache to tear both their clothes off. Pound into her. Again and again. And again. Until they both collapsed from exhaustion. But he would collapse far before she did, and it wouldn’t be from exhaustion, but from death.
Can’t...give...in.
He concentrated on pulsing his calming energy through his bloodstream and out of his pores. And hell, it actually worked. The heavy tension in her muscles eased a fraction and her body pulled back some of the killer-crazy allure.
Taeg was right. She was good for him. Something about her made him better.
“Please, Ronin. Please.”
It was obvious what she wanted, so he uncurled her fingers from around his head and moved up to kiss her while he undid the drawstring of her pants. She undulated beneath him, sucking his tongue deep into her mouth. What he wouldn’t give to join with her like that, to thrust so deeply inside her that they’d both be as one. Since he couldn’t have that, he focused on the satin feel of her flesh as he slid the pants down and off of her. She spread her legs, and when he slid his fingers through the silky curls at the base of her thighs, he found her hot and wet and ready for him. Her velvety walls closed around the finger he slid in, squeezing him tight.
He groaned and his hips jerked, as if fighting a battle with his cock. It wouldn’t get the taste of paradise it sought, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make her soar. He concentrated on pumping her with his fingers while he sucked each of her breasts into his mouth, nibbling on the taut peaks.
“Harder,” she moaned, squeezing her thighs together. When she took control by sliding one of her hands down her body, rubbing and stroking her clit, he went over the edge. A low cry tore from his throat as he pumped his hips hard against her thigh. For the second night in a row, he came in his pants like a horny, out-of-control teenager. This time she came with him, her entire body tensing and a small shriek tearing out of her mouth. She clamped her legs around him and rode out the wave.
When she finally relaxed against him, Ronin pressed a kiss to her mouth. “Feeling better?”
“Mm. Yes.”
“Be right back.” He gave her another kiss before rising off the bed. He grabbed a second pair of cotton bottoms from his drawer and padded into the en suite bathroom to clean up. At this rate he’d be out of clean clothes by the weekend.
Shit. What was he going to do with her? This arrangement they had was no permanent fix. She needed to feed. So what the hell could they do about that?
The obvious answer was one that made his gut clench and his chest ache.
>
Cresso.
But, knowing what feeding her entailed, how would he be able to stomach arranging for it? And how was it that he’d come to feel so territorial about her? It wasn’t as if the fact that she’d almost killed him through sex established any sort of special relationship between them. Except, somehow it had. At least on his part.
The thought of her with anyone else made him sick.
When he exited the bathroom, Amara lay curled on her side. She’d pulled the covers over her, so that the only bare flesh visible was the curve of her shoulder. Even that was sexy as hell.
She lifted her head. “You’re not leaving yet, are you?”
He’d planned to, but when she asked him that way...“No.”
“Then come here.” She patted the bed and, after a moment’s hesitation, he joined her.
Her smile was serene, but when she spoke, her words made his stomach give an unexpected clench. “Tell me about you and your brothers. How did you grow up?”
He rolled to face her and rested his head on the crook of his arm. “Our father, Mammon, is an avaritia demon. Greedy. He’s also a scientist who worked for the Council cataloguing interdimensional species. After witnessing the different worlds, he had this great idea of cross-breeding different species in an effort to create genetically superior offspring.”
“He purposely created half-breeds?”
“Yes. Using himself as the stud. Didn’t matter that the women were unwilling.”
She gasped. “What species were they?”
“You know my mother was an angel. Keegan’s was a dragon-shifter, Taeg’s an air sylph, and Dagan’s a siren. Mammon found ways to counteract whatever defensive abilities the women had and raped them until they became pregnant. It’s how we were conceived.”
She reached a hand out and trailed her fingers down his bare chest, circling one nipple. “I’m sorry, Ronin. That sounds like an awful way to be brought into existence.”
“It was. After each of my brothers was born, Mammon took them from their mothers. Except me.”
Touch of the Angel (Demons of Infernum, #3) Page 12