Unwrap Me (Storm Lords Book 4)

by Nina Croft

  “They’re going to be up against demons anyway once that army gets out of the Abyss.” They were in the Stormlord offices in central London. Devlin had come here straight after leaving the Abyss. The others had to know what was happening. They had to do something. And fast. Like right now. Before Lilith could release her demons on Imogen. At the thought, his stomach clenched. He could feel himself unraveling. “We need to contact Gabriel. He should know this. He has to do something. He can’t let an army of demons loose on the Earth.”

  Torr crossed the office and stared out of the window while he thought it through. At least he was thinking, not dismissing it out of hand. “Gabriel might do something, but not in the time frame you need. And even if he did go against the army, Lilith would need to die in order for the Covenant to be voided. And there’s a good chance Lilith would survive, and so would the Covenant. Imogen would still die after the five days are up.”

  Why the hell was Torr telling him stuff he already knew? He wasn’t helping. “Then we need to kill Lilith.”

  “Do you think I haven’t thought about it? Even tried a few times. She’s too well protected down there. It would be a suicide mission. Bryce has offered, but she would never trust him enough for him to get close.” Bryce had lost his wife. He’d found her, but she’d been too damaged by all the lives she had lived, and he’d failed to reach through to her in the five days they were given. It had nearly killed him.

  But Lilith would trust Devlin. In fact, she was expecting him. But Torr was right; it would be suicide. If Lilith was killed in the Abyss, it would cause a blast of negative energy that would destroy anything close by.

  “In the meantime,” Torr continued, “Lilith is far too clever to stick her nose out in the open where she would be vulnerable. Maybe if she ever does come to Earth... but that’s too late for you.”

  Devlin rested his head in his hands. His skull was splitting in two. This was payback. He’d always known it was coming. All those bad deeds he’d done. Not only done, but reveled in. Now he was paying the price. But none of this was Imogen’s fault.

  “The others are all coming,” Torr said. “They’ll turn up today. We’ll be here for you.”

  He raised his head. “I’ve fucked up everyone’s Christmas, haven’t I?”

  “I didn’t want to go to Iceland anyway. Bloody cold.”

  Devlin forced a smile. “When this is over—”

  “When this is over, you’ll have your wife at your side. We’ve proved it can be done. Just have faith. Now, you need to go spend time with her. She already remembers you. She remembers she loved you. She’ll say the words; just be with her.”

  “She doesn’t want me with her. She hates me. She’s stubborn. She told me to come back after Christmas.”

  “And you’re going to pick now to start doing what you’re told?” Torr’s tone was incredulous. “I get that you’re scared. But you need to get the fuck back there. You also need to protect her. Lilith knows where she is.”

  “I’ve got people watching her.” Lots of people. And he was getting hourly reports.

  “Go,” Torr said. “I’ll try and arrange a meeting with Gabriel, see if there’s a deal to be made.”

  He nodded. “Thank you.”

  He made his way to the underground parking and picked up his bike. Outside, the weather was worsening, the temperature dropping. The roads would be icy. It would be more sensible to take a four wheel drive, but he didn’t feel sensible. He felt like pushing himself to the limits.

  The roads had all been gritted in the city, but as he turned off the motorway and headed into the countryside, he could feel the bike slipping and sliding beneath him.

  What was he to do?

  How could he save her?

  A wave of helplessness washed through him.

  His wheels slid on a patch of black ice, and instead of slowing down he pushed on faster. Then he hit a corner, lost control, and the bike went out from under him, sliding sideways along the road with him trapped beneath it.

  He was immortal. He couldn’t die like this, although it might be better if he could.

  Finally, he skidded to a halt at the edge of the road. Dragging himself free, he pulled off his helmet, then crashed down on his knees, threw back his head and howled. He pushed himself up, stalked to the nearest tree, and punched it as hard as he could. He couldn’t even feel it through the thick leather gloves.

  He stood, head bowed, pulling the strands of his control together.

  Eventually, he became aware of a sound, the cawing of a hawk. He looked up and straight into golden eyes, rimmed with black. The huge hawk perched on a branch only feet away. It spread its wings and rustled its feathers. It didn’t appear happy.

  Cade.

  They’d all been given various powers by Lilith. She’d returned their wings, albeit a little changed. They could call storms and take sustenance from human blood—something they tried not to do anymore. Finn could turn into a wolf—he’d saved Rachel, when she had been dying, by changing her. Perhaps he could do the same for Imogen. Though he wasn’t sure Imogen would want to be a werewolf. Maybe as a last resort. Cade could turn into a hawk. Devlin had his own thing—he wondered if Imogen was fond of cats. Big cats.

  He blew out his breath, then shrugged. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m over it. Okay?” He forced a smile. “See. Fine. I’ll just be on my way.”

  He crossed to where his helmet lay on the ground and picked it up, pulled it on. Then went to his bike. He righted it with ease. The engine started straightaway, and he slung his leg over. He drove the rest of the way slowly, aware of the hawk circling high overhead. Keeping watch.

  He spent most of the journey tying to work out what he could tell Imogen that wouldn’t violate the terms of the Covenant. He couldn’t tell her of the Covenant’s existence. Nor could he tell her that if she didn’t say I love you in five days, then she was dead, and this time she would not be reborn.

  And the hardest thing...he couldn’t tell her he loved her. And he longed to.

  As he parked in front of the church, the hawk landed lightly on one of the gargoyles atop the tower. Devlin nodded briefly and then headed inside. A sense of peace filled him as he walked through the doors, and he bowed his head for a moment, absorbing the atmosphere. He didn’t pray. He hadn’t prayed for two thousand years. Forgiveness was a two-way thing. God might not have forgiven him, but he hadn’t forgiven God, either.

  The place was decorated for Christmas, with a tree to the right of the door and a nativity scene to the left. A smile tugged his lips as he took in the three angels hovering over the stable. They were pretty authentic, and he was sure the one in the middle looked like him.

  A door opened in the back of the church, and Imogen appeared. Warmth washed over him, spreading a little peace in the total chaos of his mind. She was with a man, a few inches shorter than she was and considerably wider, with ginger hair and glasses. She paused as the door closed behind them, her head raising as if she scented him.

  For a moment, they just stared, and the bad feelings between them faded. Her eyes shone with love. It was still there, beneath the pain and the betrayal. But that would hardly matter unless she said the words. She gave herself a little shake and then headed down the aisle toward him, the man in tow. They both stopped about a foot away.

  “Zaria,” he murmured.

  “Imogen,” she said sternly.

  “Imogen.” He cast his glance to the man at her side, who was clearly doing his best not to appear alarmed.

  “This is my verger, Kevin,” Imogen said.

  Devlin held out his hand, and they shook. He reckoned there was no threat here. “Devlin Royce.” He dropped the man’s hand and turned to Imogen. “Can we talk?”

  “Haven’t we already?”

  “Some more, then.” He took a deep breath. “Please.”

  Some of the strength seeped from her, and her shoulders drooped. She heaved a huge sigh—presumably to signify her unhappiness wit
h him, but then shrugged. “Go on ahead, Kevin. I’ll see you there.”

  They both waited until he’d disappeared out the front door of the church, then she swung around to face him. She was wearing snug black pants pushed into boots and a red knitted jumper with a reindeer on the front. Her hair pulled into a ponytail. The dog collar was missing, and she didn’t look anything like a vicar. Or like Zaria, either. It knocked him off-balance.

  A frown formed a deep line between her eyes. “What happened to giving me some space? To going away until after Christmas?” she asked.

  “I can’t leave you.” It was the simple truth.

  “It’s easy. You just get up and walk away.”

  “Walking away from you would be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

  CHAPTER 9

  As pickup lines went, it was pretty good. But was that what he was trying to do—pick her up?

  Maybe it was time to find out what he actually did want from her.

  At least she was feeling better. She’d managed to get through the parish meeting without throwing up over anyone, and then she’d grabbed half an hour of free time and rushed home to shower and change.

  Crossing from the parish hall to the vicarage, she’d become aware of someone watching her. Her gaze had settled on a man leaning against the corner of the church. He was a stranger, but from his clothes, she recognized him as one of the two men who had ridden in with Devlin last night. She’d peered around, but known Devlin wasn’t close. She could sense when he was around, which was a little scary. The man nodded as she passed but didn’t speak.

  He’d been gone when she came out again, but she couldn’t shake the feeling she was still being watched. But she hadn’t felt in any way intimidated, so she had ignored the feeling.

  “What do you want, Devlin?”

  “I just want to spend some time with you.”

  “Why?”

  He frowned at the question. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting it.

  What would she do if he told her he loved her?

  She’d probably cave in totally and collapse into his arms—and part of her wished that would happen. But he was still frowning, no words of love falling from his lips. While they’d been married, he’d said them all the time. That hadn’t stopped him lying to her.

  Finally, he spoke. “I think you may be in danger.”

  At first the words made no sense, perhaps because they were not what she’d been subconsciously expecting. She frowned. “In danger from what?”

  “I can’t tell you. Just that your visit to Stormlord Securities yesterday didn’t go unnoticed.”

  Okay, still not making any sense. “So, who noticed me? And why would they care?”

  “I can’t tell you the details, but we have enemies. And they would use you to get at me. At us.”

  She gritted her teeth. He was being so cryptic. It was driving her insane. Why couldn’t he come right out and tell her what was going on? “Why would they even think you would care?”

  “Because they recognized you, as I did.”

  “Recognized me as your wife? Are we talking angels?” She couldn’t help it; a wave of fear washed through her. She was falling, falling. Through the hot air, the stench of smoke and burning flesh clogging her nostrils. Screams in her ears. Waiting to crash. To break. She must have stumbled, because suddenly he was closer, his arms around her. She buried her head in his chest, breathing in the hot, spicy scent of him, so achingly familiar. And she was safe.

  But she was safe anyway.

  That was another life. A long time ago and a faraway place. She should move, but one of his hands burrowed in her hair, touching her skin, and at that first touch, pleasure rolled through her, the memory of countless hours making love. Her breasts aching, her nipples tightening, the muscles of her belly clenching tight. A pulse hammering between her thighs.

  She didn’t recognize herself, and the shock held her immobile.

  It was Devlin who pulled away. Enough so he could look down into her face. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”

  But he hadn’t been able to stop them last time. Why would he succeed now? As she pulled free of his hold, his fingers tightened for a second, and then he let her go. She stepped back and could think rationally again.

  “I promise,” he said, “whatever it takes. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

  “Just tell me. Is it angels? Are they still after you?”

  “No, it’s not angels.”

  She blew out her breath. “So who is it?”

  He glanced away from her, something shifting through his eyes. She was guessing he was just about to tell a whopper. “I’m not sure.”

  “You have that many enemies, huh?”

  He shrugged, and a welcome flare of anger sizzled through her veins. It was a big improvement on feeling scared. “Why do I get the impression that you’re keeping things from me? Important things. And maybe you’re lying to me. Again.”

  “I’m not lying. I’m just not telling you the whole truth.”

  She snorted. “A little like—hey, dear, come and have a sip of the Elixir and live forever—it’s not stolen, honest.”

  “I never told you it wasn’t stolen.”

  “You never told me it was. You were a goddamn angel. Of course it never occurred to me you would steal.”

  He ran a hand through his short hair, frustration in every line of his body. “I’ll tell you everything in a few days. I promise. Just trust me—” He must have caught her incredulous look because he sighed. “Okay, don’t trust me, but just let me keep you safe.”

  “I’m not sure what that entails. But I have a job, and you’re gatecrashing my busiest time of year.”

  “I’ll be discreet, just watch over you from a distance.”

  “Like my very own guardian angel. Except, I’ve done that. Been there. Not looking for a repeat performance because it didn’t turn out too well last time.” Her voice was rising, but luckily, the church was empty.

  “I’ll do better this time,” he promised. “If anything else happened to you because of me, I could never live with myself.”

  Was that a threat? But she didn’t think so. Maybe a promise.

  She was silent for a moment, but she could almost taste his impatience. His need to push her. He’d never been the patient sort; she’d used it to tease him, making him wait...

  Pressing her finger to her forehead, she took a few deep breaths. She couldn’t cope with Devlin right now. It was all too much, and she needed time to come to terms with everything she had learned. That wasn’t so surprising. How many people would take the revelation that they’d lived a hundred lives in their stride. She’d actually been doing quite well.

  Now he was telling her that someone wanted to harm her to get at him. And she wasn’t doing so well anymore. She chewed on her lip, saw his gaze follow the movement. His eyes heating up.

  The truth was, she couldn’t make this all go away. She was going to have to deal with it sometime—and deep down, a spark of excitement lit up inside her at that thought. She ignored it. In the meantime, she wanted to stay alive. So yes, she’d accept his protection.

  “You’ll be discreet?” she asked. Though looking at him—all black leather and bad-boy attitude, how discreet could he be in a village like Barnsdale? It was like Sons of Anarchy had come to town.

  “Of course. You’ll hardly know I’m around.”

  She snorted. “Okay then. But you’d better start talking and telling me the truth soon or...” She couldn’t actually come up with a suitable threat, so she just gave another shrug.

  “I will.”

  She waited for him to go. They’d finished talking. But he just stood there. Huge and gorgeous and so close. “Right,” she said. “I have to go and change. I’ve got a funeral to do. And then a carol service rehearsal, and some parishioners to visit in between.”

  He still didn’t move. “Just one kiss.”

  “What?”

/>   “Then I’ll go. Not far. But I’ll go.”

  She blinked up at him. “A kiss? Here? Now? In church? Really?”

  “A kiss between us could never be sacrilegious. You were a gift from God.”

  “Yeah. Right until he took me back.”

  But despite her sniping, she didn’t move, not an inch. As he stepped closer, she was held in place by an invisible force. He didn’t try and hold her, just lowered his head. His lips touched hers with the lightest of kisses, and she was lost as a thousand memories of a thousand caresses crashed through her.

  Then he was gone.

  CHAPTER 10

  Leave while he was ahead. That had been his reasoning. Leave her wanting more.

  Except, ever since he’d walked away from her, he’d been haunted by the idea that he’d gotten it totally wrong. He should have pushed things. Should have kissed her until she remembered what it had felt like with him deep inside her. Then taken her to bed. And she would have made love to him sweetly, passionately, then she’d look up into his eyes and say—

  He blew out his breath. No point in daydreaming. Likely, it wouldn’t have turned out that way anyway. She’d probably have kneed him in the balls if he’d pushed for more than a kiss. Like the first time he’d kissed her.

  Over two thousand years ago, and the memory was so clear. He’d been lost in moments, aware of nothing but the woman in his arms. She, on the other hand, had been the consummate professional and told him that payment was upfront and until then to keep his hands, and his mouth, to himself. Now, two thousand years later, he still found that a total impossibility.

  She hadn’t been lying about being busy. He’d followed her around for the rest of the day, slept in the church again, then followed her around some more. Visits to parishioners, a funeral service, a youth group...

  Occasionally, she would glance over in his direction, usually with a frown between her eyes. But she never acknowledged him in any way.

  He’d made a call to the company and got them to send him a gift box of fruit; figs, and dates, pomegranates and almonds. All the things she had loved in that first life. He’d left the box on her doorstep, rung the bell, and moved away. He was sure he’d seen a softening of her expression as she’d caught his gaze. But in the end, she’d just picked up the box, taken it inside, and closed the door.