“Let’s get some breakfast first, and then we can all watch me and Naz get arrested.”
I was glad I had that second cup of coffee when I got a good look at the body-cams. There were faces on there I hadn’t seen on the night, but I recognized now. A US foreign correspondent. A high ranking German diplomat. A former 90s pop star. There were faces that Naz recognized too, from his other line of work. A drug smuggler from Egypt. The right hand man of an African despot. It was basically a who’s who of scum bags. I wrote down every name. I’d make sure this list got to Ace somehow.
I couldn’t rain down vengeance on all of these people, but there was nothing the Consort of the Devil liked more than a little karmic comeuppance. I didn’t see Uriel, and neither Ace or Gusion came up in the footage. Handy trick.
However, one face looked all too familiar. “Pause that.”
Charlie did as I asked, and the face stilled on the screen. A face I recognized all right, and I wasn’t too surprised to see that asshole at a sex slave auction either.
“This guy is the major stockholder for a pharmaceutical company. He’s been really vocal about his opposition of the NRH supplying drugs at cost price to low income countries. Tried to lock us up in court a bunch of times.” I stared at the guy, with his smarmy smile and his weak chin. My gut clenched, and I knew this guy had something to do with Hope. It was too coincidental. She has a meeting with the UN about our pharma policies, then she gets abducted. You didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to know that there was something suss as fuck about that.
“Zoom in.”
I racked my brain for a name. He had a real uppercrust name. Came from old, old money. Richards. Someone Richards. “Maximoff Richards.”
He was dressed in a tailored suit that did nothing to hide his pudgy middle, his slick haircut hiding a receding hairline and a balding patch at the back of his head. Charlie had frozen him yelling something at the man beside him. I couldn't see the other guys face, he was turned away from the camera. His hand was pushing Maximoff towards a rear door. My eyes caught on something glittering on his shirt.
I poked at the screen, making colors go haywire beneath my finger and Charlie hissed. “Don’t touch the equipment. It’s sensitive.”
I raised my eyebrows, and resisted the urge to run my hands up and down the screen. Because I was mature like that. Charlie was way more picky about who touched his computer than he was at who touched his dick. Well, he was before. I leaned over, and slid my hands into his unbuttoned jeans. “What about this equipment?” I purred, and he sucked in a breath. I wrapped my hand firmly around his semi hard dick and squeezed. He groaned. I removed my hand, making sure to run my fingers across the trail of hair on his lower stomach. “That's what I thought. I’ll make sure not to touch your equipment again.”
Rouen laughed at the stunned look on Charlie's face, and I resisted the urge to grin. “Can you please zoom in on Richards lapel pin, please, Husband?”
Charlie narrowed his eyes, but I could see the corners of his lips curl. “Of course.” He zoomed in, and although the picture blurred a little, I could see it was a circle with seemingly random squiggles in it. It wasn't anything I recognized. It wasn’t this years Gucci anyway.
“What's that?” I asked the guys. I could feel Romanus’ hot breath on the back of my neck as he leaned closer to the screen, and I resisted the urge to turn and kiss him.
“It's a sigil,” Rouen answered.
“An angelic sigil,” Romanus added.
I sighed, and put my head in my hands. “Anyone want to put a hundred bucks on it being Uriel's sigil?”
Strangely, no one took me up on my bet.
“I can’t check until we get back to civilization, but I think that's a pretty great working theory. What do we do from here? I mean, I’m all about avenging Hope, but Archangels are a little out of our pay grade, don’t you think?” Charlie said, his eyes round. He wasn’t wrong. We couldn't be more out of our depth right now.
“Catalogue the faces, and we’ll see what we can do about creating a list. If you can spot anyone else with one of the pins, put them on a seperate list. We’ll give what we have to Ace and Gusion.”
I pointed back at Richards. “This guy we’ll chase up back in the States. My gut says that if he didn’t put the hit on Hope, he knows who did. But we can’t just leave. We need to clean up what we can here. We can’t bring down the whole organisation, but we can put a huge fucking dent in business.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
I couldn’t believe we were shopping again. Seriously, who knew that a blood-fuelled vendetta would come with a need for a whole new wardrobe?
But when Charlie had dragged me into the store, he’d made a good point. I couldn’t meet the Mayor of Calais in bloodstained jeans or a tee that hadn’t been washed in two weeks and had its own collection of suspicious stains.
Romanus and Naz were doing recon on Town Hall, and Charlie and Rouen were doing some kind of pretty woman style makeover thing with me. Rouen, however, had directed us straight to the lingerie section of the department store, and was muttering about thigh highs and demi cups. He was currently holding up a red strip of lace that was masquerading as a thong.
“No thongs.”
Rouen gave me sad eyes. “Not even one little thong?”
I laughed and shook my head, starting back towards the practical business wear I was supposed to be looking at. I liked the playfulness we were all feeling after our forced timeout. I grabbed a plain black pencil skirt and frilly white blouse that dipped low enough to show the top curve of my breasts. It was an outfit that screamed pen-pusher, and didn’t say part-time murderer, at least to the casual observer.
I looked at Charlie and Rouen, as they picked outfits for me, most of which I would put back as soon as they weren’t looking. Rouen in particular looked completely out of place. I could dress him up in a french maid outfit, and he would still look like a predator.
Luckily, it wasn’t going to be unusual for me to have four bodyguards when we went to the camp, especially since the recent attempt on my sister’s life. Charlie’s increased strength meant he no longer had to play backup.
I matched my chosen outfit with a pair of sensible heels, in case I needed to run or kick some ass.
At the register, I placed all the things I’d selected in front of a bored teenage shop clerk. However, Rouen dumped a handful of completely impractical lace and silk on top of my practical outfit. I raised an eyebrow at the lace garter belt and silk stockings, with matching demi bra and french cut panties.
He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “When in the motherland, right?”
I mentally slapped my forehead. How had I forgotten so quickly? No wonder the Gargoyles had been so relaxed since our arrival in France. It was like catnip for their gargoyle souls. The clerk passed me a bag containing my purchases, and I wrapped my hand in Rouen’s larger one.
“When this is all done, do you think we could come back to France, and you could show me where you guys are from? Maybe visit your namesake?”
He kissed my temple. “I’d love that. But I wasn’t named after Rouen. Well, I was, but not until I died. Rouen isn’t my real name.”
My feet skidded to a stop.
“What? Why didn’t you tell me that?” It came out as a high pitched screech and I winced at the noise.
He wrapped an arm around my waist, and propelled me back into motion. “Rouen has been my name for nearly fifteen hundred years. I honestly forgot.”
Naz and Romanus pulled up in front of us as we approached the front of the department store, and I realized that Charlie must have called them at some point. Romanus took one look at my stormy face, and frowned at Rouen.
“What did you do now?”
Rouen crossed his arms over his chest. “What makes you think it was me and not Charlie?”
“Hey, don’t throw me under the bus, dickhead,” Charlie said, sliding into the car beside me and elbowing Rouen as he got in.
“Millenia of experience,” Romanus said dryly. He looked at me over his shoulder as Naz pulled the car back into the traffic.
Rouen huffed. “I may have told her that Rouen wasn’t my name when we were alive. That's all.”
Naz made a loud oohing sound that was straight out of a daytime chat show, and Charlie let out a low chuckle.
There was a lifetime of strained patience in Romanus’ sigh, and I was finding it hard to hold on to my annoyance. Fucking cute bastards.
“My name was not Romanus, either. We decided it was best to make a clean break from our mortal lives. Those last years were bloody and dark for us both.”
I stared out the window, waiting for him to continue. I wasn’t going to let him off that easily. I tied my life to these two, no four, beings, and the only one I really knew at all was Charlie.
“Why Romanus and Rouen?” Charlie asked. Always the curious one. I knew I could rely on him to ask the questions so I could maintain my pouty countenance. Guess who’d just rocketed up to the top of my favorite eternal life partner list?
“We were burned alive in Rouen by Saint Romanus in the 7th century. He poisoned an entire village of people, and when we came through and, uh-“
“Ate everyone,” Rouen provided, and Romanus scowled.
“Yes. Well, their tainted blood was enough to knock us down.” He cleared his throat, the only sign that this conversation was affecting him.
“Down, but not out. We were awake the whole time,” Rouen added, shivering. Not even thousands of years could fade some memories. I crawled over Charlie's lap so I was between the two of them. I pressed my body along Rouen’s, soothing him.
Romanus continued. “We signified the last of all Gargoyles. And we weren’t a good example of our species at the end. Pia, our former Queen, was so gentle, so nurturing. We were a blood-fuelled nightmare come to life. The humans were right to put us down. We decided that the best way to remember how far we could fall was to take his name. Saint Romanus of Rouen.”
I wanted to comfort Romanus, but it would have to wait until I could wrap him in my arms and whisper all the promises of my heart in his ear.
“Well, thats super fucking morbid,” Naz muttered. “I thought my tortured backstory was bad, but it's hard to compete with ‘I was burned alive by a 7th century saint.’”
Rouen buried his nose in my hair, the way he always did when he needed comfort. Romanus was harder to read, my strong, stoic alpha. “What were your names? Before, I mean,” I whispered against Rouen’s chest.
“Caio. But I haven’t been that boy in a long time,” Rouen murmured back.
Caio. It suited him somehow. The gargoyle who barely got to live before he died. I lifted my eyes to see Romanus staring at us in the side mirror. I pushed love down my bond, and the hard look in his eyes softened.
“Vercingetorix.”
I couldn't hold back a giggle. “Holy shit, that's a mouthful.” I gave him an exaggerated wink. “Not that I mind a mouthful.” I licked my lower lip, and his eyes hooded as he sucked in a deep breath, scenting me.
The pheromones in the car ratched up a notch, and Naz let out a relieved sigh when our hotel came into sight. It was a fair way out of Calais, but it was as high class as you could get. A refurbished Chateau, it was a stupid amount of dollars a night, and everything was an antique. No cheap reproductions allowed.
I unbelted myself as we pulled into the long circular driveway. I leaned forward and nipped Romanus’ earlobe. “Ever wanted to break an antique four poster bed?” I purred. His nostrils flared, and when the valet came to take the car, the sexual tension was so high that Naz practically threw the keys at the poor kids face.
We waved away the bellboy, and I went to check-in. The guys naturally formed a V formation around me, looking for threats, protecting my back. I walked up to the desk, and gave the attendant my name.
She was eye-fucking my supposed bodyguards like a starving woman, especially Naz, but I didn’t want to waste time putting her in her place. Besides, they were supposed to be my guards. I couldn't help my top lip curling though. I was the least certain of Naz’s feelings, and a slither of doubt crept into my heart. Charlie had loved me forever, and to the gargoyles, I was their Savior Queen and they would love me unconditionally for it. But Naz, despite his words, was thrust into the life, and did not have any prior feelings for me other than lust.
I was feeling the uncertainty of a woman who was newly dating a stupidly attractive man. When Naz slipped his tattooed hand into mine, I held back my smile.
I was fooling myself. We weren’t like a new couple. We had a direct connection to each others emotions. There would never be any miscommunication.
The concierge looked down at our hands, and then at me. I couldn't resist baring my teeth at her like a feral animal this time. She expedited out check-in process and soon we were climbing the stairs as a bellboy led us to our room.
He opened the big double doors that proclaimed the room as the Presidential Suite, and stood beside the door. I slipped him a fifty and sent him on his way.
The suite was nice, done in reds and creams, every single piece of furniture expensively upholstered and incredibly spindly. The Gargoyles were going to have to sit on the floor for the entire stay. The kitchen was state of the art and three rooms led off the main sitting room. It was opulence to the extreme but I missed our little two room cabin in the middle of nowhere.
Charlie quickly set up his equipment, and visibly sagged with relief when his computer connected to the high speed internet connection. The guy had a problem. His computer was practically another appendage.
Naz hadn’t released my hand, and he pulled me against his chest and kissed me hard. It was a branding kiss. The hard press of his lips moved against mine, and I slipped my free hand around his neck.
He pulled away, and bit my lower lip gently. “I only see you,” he said so low, that I knew he only wanted me to hear. He lifted our twined hands to his chest, pressing my palm against his wildly thudding heart. “This beats because of you. Now it beats for you. Understand?”
I swallowed the hard lump of emotion that seemed to be choking me, and nodded once. He gave me a blindingly bright smile and then pecked me on the lips. “Good.”
He released me, but not before squeezed my ass and made a happy noise. “I’m going to check the perimeter, Alpha,” he said to Romanus, before letting himself out of our suite.
Rouen wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “I gotta admit, he’s growing on me. I might be tempted to change my mind about him being my type.” I rolled my eyes at him, and he leaned in for a kiss. “Are you hungry? I’ll order room service.” I could tell from the way his body was all but curled around me that I wasn’t going to have to touch a fork to eat tonight. He kissed his way down my neck. “Maybe then we can have dessert?”
My body tightened at his words. If I kept up my current pace, I’d soon be walking with a permanent limp. Or like an old cowboy.
“How about we just cuddle and watch pay per view? If we keep this up, I’m going to have to walk around doing kegels 24/7.”
He threw back his head and laughed. It was such a joyous sound, that it made my chest swell like his laughter was actually filling me up. “What if I promise to kiss it better?” he teased.
I pushed against his chest, grinning. “You are such a horndog. Go order us some food before your Queen withers away to nothing but a shadow.” I kissed him, because it was a compulsion that I couldn’t, or didn’t want to, fight.
Charlie was immersed back in his virtual universe, running a check on the faces his program had cataloged against databases in Geneva, the States and against Interpol. Also, he was running a reverse image search. The internet was a powerful tool in the hands of people like Charlie. He could find anything. Anyone.
I walked past him on my way to one of the bedrooms, and I leaned forward to kiss the top of his head. His brain was a powerful thing, and it fucking made me wet as hell. Sure, h
is body was hot. Beyond hot. But what was inside his head, and inside his chest, made my panties damp.
He turned and caught my lips, kissing me back, his eyes closing against the bliss. Mine did too. But then he was drifting away, back to his screen. “I love you, you know,” I said, shaking my head. He was lucky I wasn’t a jealous lover, because if I made him choose between me and his computer, I’m not sure I’d win.
He flashed me that classic Charlie grin. “Me too, sweetheart.”
I went and hung my clothes in the wardrobe so they didn’t crease. I moved to the ensuite bathroom, and appreciated the dark polished tiles and the huge three head shower. Nice. I stripped off my clothes, and ran a hand through my short hair. Fuck, I missed my hair. It was the ultimate vanity, but I loved the deep auburn of my long locks. It identified me. I was the daughter of people who literally survived Hell. A twin. A badass. An upholder of justice, until justice needed a hand. Now, I guess I was a vigilante.
I stepped into the three streams of water and let out an audible moan. Holy crap, this was almost better than sex.
Ha. Who was I kidding? It was better than all the sex I’d had before this month, but nothing compared to my guys. They were out of this world. My body had never hummed the way it did now, like my nerves were constantly aware of them. They were a physical pull on my cells. I leaned my head against the tiles, and let the water beat down on my body.
I knew someone was in the bathroom with me, because my body perked up like the hussy it was, and when a body slid into the shower behind me, I relaxed back against the muscular chest. His scent, not something I could label, wrapped around me, and I knew it was Romanus before I even tilted my head up to look at him.
He kissed my forehead as he reached around me for the fancy little shampoos in the recess of the shower. He squirted some on his hand, and I reached back, running my hand down his body toward the hard cock pressed against my ass.
He gripped my wrist. “Not today, my Queen. Just let me take care of you.” He nipped my ear, making me shiver, and then rubbed the shampoo through my hair. His fingers ran through the short strands, applying the perfect amount of pressure on my scalp as he lathered it with his fingertips. My moan bounced around the marble bathroom as his fingers stroked the muscles that ran up from my neck into my scalp, his large hands and strong thumbs applying the perfect amount of pressure. Damn.
Hell's Redemption- The Complete Series Boxset Page 55