After Senator Kenton fled the senate hearing, had he set up here? If so, maybe this was more genius than he’d initially thought. No one would look for a senator in this environment. Senators came to this realm for the pampering, if they came at all. Whether or not they visited, they had people who invested and accumulated money for the finer things in human life.
This was a roof over their head. A yard, which to many was a luxury. But for a male like Kenton? It’d be the first rung of hell.
“Now what?” Jagger parked along the busy curb. The neighborhood had enough traffic coming and going that he didn’t worry about blending in. The problem was the heat. It was too hot to sit in the car without AC, but they couldn’t park here for hours and through the night with the engine running. Eventually it’d draw attention.
“We could keep moving, leapfrog up and down the street while we’re watching the place.” This information was too important to delay. He sent a message to Bryant.
His phone buzzed seconds later. He answered but didn’t get a greeting out.
“What the hell are you doing?” The gravelly voice of his boss radiated with irritation.
“I had a gut feeling. We followed up.” He left out the part where Felicia had confronted his father. “Your right. Something’s up with Sierra.”
“So you followed Stede without letting anyone know? What if he has a team of possessed humans surrounding his place? What if they’re his neighbors? What if it’s a trap? You and Felicia are severely unprepared.”
“There wasn’t time to wait.”
A string of cuss words, some Jagger hadn’t heard before, plugged the line. “You really think Sierra is our leak?”
“I think it’s too much of a coincidence.”
More swearing. “All of us could’ve been killed that day.”
“Like Felicia said, we all have our secrets. Hers must be a doozy.”
“Sierra was raised as the child of a warrior.”
“Right.” He’d heard the story once. Her mother had died in childbirth and her birth father had been killed in the Mist. Nasty battle, but they all were. One of her father’s fellow warriors had raised her. “It’s time to ask some pertinent questions.”
A taxi passed them and stopped in front of the house. Felicia pulled her notebook out, pen poised.
“Wait, there’s someone stopping for a visit.” Jagger kept the phone to his ear and described what he saw to Director Vale. “A woman. Not possessed. Not dressed any particular way but young and sexy. She has a tote slung around her shoulder. Huh. She walked right in.” Were they seriously leaving the place unlocked, or had they expected her and left the door open so they wouldn’t be bothered to answer it?
“Stede’s getting laid?”
“I don’t think it’s housekeeping.” Unless there were cleaning services that didn’t care if their employees cleaned in cute heels and booty shorts.
“Send me your location. I’ll get Dionna to assemble the rest of the team. We can’t take the chance. Bring them in.”
His warrior spirit rejoiced at the promise of action, the opportunity to be productive and get farther ahead of their enemies instead of chasing their exhaust—literally.
He hung up and relayed the info to Felicia. She scowled at her notepad. “I guess I didn’t need this then. Too bad. It made me feel official.”
“You should keep it. Anything to support our case to the senators can’t hurt.”
“As long as the senators are willing to listen and not play putt-putt games.”
He arched a brow. “Putt-putt games?”
“You know, when they dick around making a decision because they don’t really want to. Because they know it’ll be contentious and they might have to answer to the rest of us, so they painfully draw out the process. Father couldn’t stand it, but he did the same thing. Like it’s ingrained in them to never change.”
“They need some new blood.”
“They get new blood all the time.” Every year a few new senators went into training and some retired, weary after centuries of government. They retired to the human realm, where they could live a pampered life with all their investments.
“You know what I mean. That new blood was raised by the old blood. I wish they chose according to more than birthright. It’s a complaint Mother always used to make.” Mother would say that while wearing the same superior look that chased senate trainees away.
She snorted. “I dare you to go there and say that.”
“You’d be surprised at how many agree.”
She narrowed her eyes on the house, like she wanted to quit arguing but couldn’t stop. “Still, they do nothing. They’re conflict averse because few of them ever had to deal with real conflict.”
“You have lots of opinions on senators.”
She clicked the pen closed and glared at the house they were watching. “We all do.”
“Sure, but not as vehement.”
“Like I said, because they haven’t had to deal with the bullshit.”
He tapped his message out. Did Felicia even realize how much more passionate she was about their government than the average angel? Most of the residents accepted their fate, performed their own duties, and went about their long life. Status quo was critical. No one wanted to live an uncertain life when immortality was on the line. Complacency set in without being noticed.
Until his father was brutally kicked out.
He stared at the screen, but it was several minutes before a message came through.
Dionna shot back On our way.
The whole team must be coming. Or what was left. Dionna, Urban, Harlowe, and Bronx. Five. A decent-sized team, but they were hindered without Sierra’s specialty.
“They’re on their way.” He settled into his seat and watched the house.
“I wish it were dark so we could sneak up on them.”
“And listen to them have sex?” Listening to their enemies get it on with the female he wanted to do the same with wouldn’t help his mood at all.
“We could learn a lot.”
“Hard pass. I’ve had to spy on too many sexcapades to ever do it willingly when I’m confident it won’t give me an advantage.”
She opened her mouth, closed it again, then her lips parted once more. The way her brow furrowed meant she didn’t have a snarky remark.
She normally said what was on her mind. Why the hesitation? “What?”
A faint blush tinged her cheeks. “What happens when a possessed human has sex with another?”
He knew more about this subject than he wanted to. “Demons seek pleasure, usually at the expense of others. It’s what gets them off. Often, they’ll get violent, even rape. Some prefer to fly under the radar in order to keep the host from attracting law enforcement, or from getting kicked out of the house when a normally docile spouse suddenly develops a harmful kink. But the act won’t be loving. It’s pure carnal fucking.” And he’d witnessed several times when the unsuspected spouse was delighted at the turn of bedroom events. Too bad it never lasted. He and his team moved quickly.
“What happens if the host gets pregnant? Or the partner? Are there lasting effects on the child from the possession?”
A long breath whistled out of him as conflicting thoughts battled in his brain. “There doesn’t seem to be. It’s something we don’t really watch for, the thought being that it’s only human biological material exchanged.”
“But you’re not so sure?”
“It’s not as if such children are born with horns and black wings. The DNA is human.” No, the problem wasn’t as obvious as that. When he ran across a child who’d been conceived when one of the birth parents had been possessed, they were often…troubled. Tormented. Conflicted. As if they’d never come to terms with the very basis of their identity. They were lost, wandering through life, never growing close to another. “But the energy in the genetic material is altered. It has to be.”
Like Dionna said, what could they do? The indiv
idual was human, neither of Daemon or of Numen. They had to be allowed to live out their life on their terms, subject to human law.
Didn’t mean he liked watching people suffer.
“That’s another issue I have—that problems need to be as obvious as the wings on our back before anything’s done.” She dug out a wrap from the cooler.
He punched the car into gear and swung around the block, coming back around to park in a different spot a little farther away. If his team was coming, they risked being too close.
She handed him a grocery-store chicken wrap. “Good thing we can’t procreate with humans. Do you think an archmaster and an angel could?”
Their kind didn’t reproduce quickly. Some couples were together centuries before they had a child. As for a coupling between the two different winged creatures? “Improbable.”
“Improbable isn’t the same as impossible.”
“We can’t exist in the same dimension in our own forms. Except for the Mist. So improbable.”
“I wonder if it’s ever happened.”
That poor child. “The odds are extremely low. And it’s why we restrict who gets to travel between realms and why.” Except their restrictions were often conveniently lax. “It’s not as if any of us would find a demon sexy.”
“It only takes once. You said it yourself. Demons will take what they want by force.”
He blinked, the idea of the whole process disturbing. “But they’re in the Mist to fight—to the death.”
“Mm.” She picked at her wrap. “Doesn’t mean it won’t ever happen.”
“I guess.” He eyed the wrap. His appetite had suddenly vanished. All the terrifying, brutally vicious demon fights he’d had came back. He’d fought all genders because it didn’t matter. Once he pulled them into the Mist, it was to kill them. It was because he’d witnessed the demon deconstruct and ruin the life of a human. Those same creatures would love to debase an angel. That’s why angels rarely fought alone.
Didn’t mean they all did, though.
He should be the one questioning whether it could happen. Warriors should be addressing the possibility. They knew all the ways fights could go wrong in the Mist. When had he trapped himself inside the box? His thinking was restricted to what his superiors told him to think. Not Felicia.
The back door opened and a dark form slid in. He had a dagger in his hand and was twisted around in a second. Felicia had dropped her wrap and her hand was on her own weapon.
Bronx grinned at them, sunlight glinting off his dark hair. He was dressed in athletic shorts with no shirt on, and earbuds were stuffed in his ears. He was outside jogging. In the middle of summer in Vegas.
Crazy.
“Ingenious, am I right?” He took out his earbuds. “Who would think twice about me running in hundred-degree heat?” His expression turned serious. “I can’t get any closer than running on the sidewalk. All the yards are fenced and I don’t want to test whether that poster about a security system is legit or not. But I heard a few things when I stopped to tie my shoe.”
“I didn’t see you run by.” He’d had his eyes on the place the whole time.
Another flash of white teeth. Bronx was always quick to smile. He’d grin as he buried his dagger to the hilt in a demon’s torso. “I was on the opposite side of the block. And the man-groaning coming out of there was loud enough. Someone’s having a painfully good time.”
Felicia picked up her food and peeled the wrapping back for another bite. “So do we make our move before or after the orgasm?”
Chapter 16
“During the post-coital glow, we strike.”
Hearing Jagger say those words still stuck with her. It’d been on the tip of her tongue to snidely mention that it was what he did best, waiting until all her defenses were down to strike.
She was past that. It was getting harder to remember why she’d sworn off relationships around him.
It should be easier the more he pointed out that she’d make a good senator. If he’d said that a few months ago, he’d have meant that she was deceptive and arrogant enough for the job. But his attitude had changed and with it came a sincerity she hadn’t expected but came to rely on.
He’d been upset and had tracked her down in Las Vegas. He’d approached both Bryant and her sister to find her, regardless of how it might look for him.
And during their stakeout, he hadn’t once sneered at her theories or observations. She got the impression he was kicking himself for not pondering the possibilities himself.
Now here she was, dressed in black tactical pants and a form-fitting, long-sleeved shirt that she’d boil alive in out in the sun. It wasn’t much more comfortable at midnight. The sweat collecting on her brow wasn’t due entirely to the heat. The light pollution of the city didn’t cast nearly enough shadows for her liking. The other warriors were in their own car.
She tugged down the sleeve of the shirt Harlowe had loaned her. “I washed the blood stains out of it. Should be good to go.”
The whole team was here. Felicia not only got to see them in action, but she would join them. It was safer than leaving her alone, and they trusted her abilities enough to include her—with some restrictions. Along with Dionna and Bronx, she’d jump the fence and go through the back. Jagger and Harlowe would take the front door, and Urban had already planned out how to get through the plate-glass window with minimal noise.
No one else knew what a big deal this was. She was part of a group—of angels. Only Jagger knew of her secret and her scars, but the rest had moved beyond the duty of protecting her to absorbing her into their group.
It was a big deal for a girl who’d had her family wiped out one angel at a time. First her mother, then her father. She and Odessa were growing closer, but Felicia wasn’t a part of her life. Not really.
Don’t fuck this up. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—get knocked out again. They were on Earth, so using their wings was a no-go. If they stepped outside of the house, then they’d have to cross into the Mist. But her work with Jagger on learning to fight a creature with wings had infused her with confidence. She wouldn’t be taken off guard again.
The team hadn’t exactly revealed how they’d deal with Sierra. She couldn’t blame them. The thought of betrayal by one of their own was hard enough, but there were the consequences to deal with. They wouldn’t be good for Sierra and no one wanted to think about what would happen.
Their priority was to get Stede.
So she’d concentrate on that too.
It’d be over in a heartbeat. There were six of them and only two inside this house. The neighbors would be none the wiser.
Dionna appeared at her window. Felicia’s heart leaped into her throat. The female moved as silently as an apparition.
She opened the door and glared past her to Jagger in the driver’s seat. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
Jagger’s gaze flicked to the house and back to Dionna. “Based on?”
“It’s too easy.”
“They don’t even know we’re here. Or that we found them,” he said.
“We’re betting our lives on that. How do we know that your father didn’t give Stede a heads-up that Felicia was out for revenge?”
It would be in Jameson’s best interest to set each side against the other. It’d solve his Stede issue and keep the warriors off his back.
But it’d endanger his son. Was he willing to cross that line?
Jagger’s expression was blank. “Do we abort?”
The lines on Dionna’s face hardened. “No, but be alert. There’s more to tonight than bagging a traitor.”
Nerves fluttered in Felicia’s belly and skittered through her body, tightening the scar tissue at her back. A solid reminder that Stede was as cruel as the job necessitated. While Jameson might’ve fiddled with tonight’s events, Stede had already proved himself willing to turn on the fallen. They were tools to each other, nothing more, and that made all of this unpredictable.
When sh
e took her eyes off the dark house, Dionna was staring at her. “Are you ready?”
She gave the woman a solemn nod. As she’d ever be. They were to capture Stede, and Kenton if he happened to be in the same place.
They fanned out. She went with Bronx and Dionna. The idea was that she and Jagger shouldn’t distract each other. The night was dark, and in this neighborhood, the neighbors kept to themselves. It was the best opportunity.
She tried to keep her eyes and ears open for the others but they were undetectable. Turning her concentration to her own movements, she lightened her footsteps and controlled her breathing. She was grateful that Dionna had brought her black athletic shoes instead of boots. It was harder to control how much sound she made than she’d imagined.
Dionna skirted the house, avoiding the motion-sensor light and alarm system. The female defied gravity when she scaled the one-story home to the roof and, with a few flicks of her wrist, disabled the system. Her nod to Bronx was barely detectable.
He leaped the wrought-iron fence and turned to wait. It was her turn and he was her spotter. Dionna crowded close. Felicia planned the move in her head before she rolled into action.
Clearing the top, she landed lightly on the other side. She winced at the crinkle of grass. Stede and whoever was here with him didn’t care for watering. Did they even know grass needed water in Vegas?
But it was better than trying to land quietly on gravel.
Following Bronx, they crept to the back door. She wished it were light enough outside so she could see how he broke in. Warriors were more than masters of fighting. They had admirable breaking-and-entering skills too.
The door was opened a crack and they collectively held their breath as they listened inside. Only the tinny sound of an old cop show on TV. The kind where at least one was dirty. So up Stede’s alley.
Wicked Fire: Angel Fire, book 2 Page 17