Time after time, the flogger came down, crisscrossing my ass and thighs with red marks that he lavished with his tongue, or brushed with a feather light caress, just using the tips of his fingers. Panting, I turned my head to the side, trying to see his face, even though I could feel the absolute pleasure he was getting from our little scene. I wanted to see the heat in his eyes, feel his lips on mine as I came. But my gaze caught a different set of eyes.
Azriel.
He strode forward like it wasn’t weird for the Angel of Death to be in a BDSM club. Hell, maybe it wasn’t; there’d already been two Archangels here tonight. He held himself so straight, his face completely unreadable as he walked up to Blue and took the flogger from him.
“What the…” Whatever Blue saw on Azriel’s face stole his words. Blue looked between me and the Angel, and took a step away.
“Color,” he growled out.
I stared between them, at the intense look in Blue’s eyes and the strange lack of emotion on Azriel’s. But I could feel their emotions, and Azriel’s were a tumult of desire and confusion and jealousy and straight up lust. The Angel, vowed to chastity by the creator himself, so disdainful of his Fallen compatriots, wanted me with a burning need that stole the oxygen from my lungs.
“Green.”
Blue nodded, and came to stand beside the cross, his eyes watching Azriel’s every move. I expected jealousy or fear, but he had buttoned his feelings up tight.
Azriel put down the flogger and picked up something that looked like a riding crop. He leaned forward, running a single fingertip down the curve of my shoulder blade.
“What is it that you’ve done to me?” he whispered quietly, and I wasn’t sure if he meant me to hear. Stepping back, he stood further away than Blue had, running the tip of the crop up my thighs. He rubbed the flat leather tongue across my wet, lace covered center and my knees went weak. Moving it again, he stroked it back and forwards tentatively, as if he was learning my body by extension.
I bit my lip, holding back the explosion of pleasure that welled under my skin. I wanted this moment to last longer, to give Azriel more time to explore. Letting out a pained moan, I couldn’t hold back any longer, so I just let go.
I came hard as the whip continued to stroke me, throwing my head back and moaning my pleasure, uncaring of the other people in the room who were watching me come apart. Azriel moved to my other side, watching my face as my orgasm made me shudder. He was looking at me like I was a science experiment, leaning so close that if I moved just a little, I could kiss him.
But I held still, allowing him to make all the moves, no matter how much I wanted him to close the distance. He leaned closer until his cheek was brushing the stained timber of the Saint Andrews Cross.
“Saint Andrew would not have approved of this at all,” he whispered, and disappeared. In front of everyone. What the hell?
I turned to look at Blue. “You saw all that right? You saw him?”
Blue nodded as he unbuckled my feet, and then my wrists, catching me as I fell.
“I want to go home now, Blue,” I said quietly as he held me against his chest, his arms supporting me easily.
He nodded, wrapping an arm around my waist, holding me up as we moved through the crowd. Stepping away from me to briefly to talk to the girls at coat check, he was back in a flash, wrapping me in my hunter green trench coat.
We were out of the club and in the back of a cab with a speed that never happened in Manhattan. It was a night for miracles.
Blue tucked me against his body, his hand stroking my hair.
“Hope…” he started, letting his words trail off. His bright pink aura was still there, mashing against the orange of the cab drivers. I knew what he was going to say. Blue had feelings for me, the type of feelings that scared the shit out of us both.
I didn’t push him. Right at this moment my empathy really was a curse.
His voice was gruff when he spoke. “Tonight I am going to make love to you like you deserve,” he promised. No, it was more than a promise. It was a vow.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I woke to Gusion staring down at me in bed, his head tilted to the side. I blinked sleepily and looked over at Blue, who was still snoring and looking heartbreakingly vulnerable in his slumber. I also realized I was naked, and more than a little sore, not only from the club last night, but from the seriously vigorous sex I’d had with Blue when we’d arrived home.
Then we’d snuggled. It had been equal parts weird and absolutely wonderful.
I think that one looks like an elephant, Gus said in my mind. I looked down to where he was pointing, and noticed a love bite on my breast. That one looks like an umbrella, he added, pointing to the other one. They both just looked like angry, red skin to me, but maybe I didn’t have Gusion’s imagination. Blue loved to mark my skin, and sometimes he was a bit of an artist, I think.
I laughed silently, and shifted out of bed. I didn’t want to wake Blue. Gusion’s eyes followed me as I moved about the room quietly, throwing on Blue’s dress shirt that he’d carefully draped over the back of a chair. I tipped my chin at the door, and tried to ignore how the heat in Gusion’s eyes made me want to crawl right back into bed with him. We closed the door softly behind us and moved into the kitchen.
Memphis stood there, holding out my mug, and I felt tears well in my eyes. Which was stupid. Maybe I was PMSing. It was just coffee, not a freaking kidney. But the small gesture burrowed its way into my heart.
I swallowed hard and smiled. “Thanks,” I said, taking the mug, and because I was unable to resist, I tilted my face up for a kiss. The first touch of his lips on mine felt like relief. The more I was with Memphis, and Gus for that matter, the more they felt like a safe harbor, like the place I was meant to be.
But then there was Blue. And Azriel… I had a sudden, very vivid flashback of last night. The guy was only one step above loathing me. I mean, we had a tentative kind of friendship, maybe. But what I felt last night, and what he had felt, was so far beyond friendship it wasn’t even in the same stratosphere. I was pretty sure the definition of a true friend didn’t involve orgasms.
“What happened last night?” Memphis asked, his deep voice bringing me back to the present. I looked between my two Fallen Angels, and smiled to myself. This was going to be good.
“Oh, you know, not much. I just chatted to the Archangel Michael at the bar, he gave me the ability to see auras which I’m still a little pissed about by the way, being an empath was more than enough.” I held up a hand when Gus went to ask a question. “Hang on, I’m not finished. I worked out that Uriel is turning bad people into religious extremists and Blue tied me to a rack and Azriel made me come with a riding crop. Now you can ask questions.”
The silence in the room was deafening, and their stunned expressions filled me with so much glee I could hardly contain it, letting a smug smile curl my lips.
They both spoke at once.
“Michael was where?”
“Azriel did what?”
I began to giggle until I was laughing so hard I had to set down my mug. “Maybe I should start from the beginning.”
By the time I was finished, we were all sitting down, me on the bench top and the angels on the kitchen stools.
“I told you Azriel wasn’t far from falling. You wait, he’ll lose those snowy white wings that he’s so damn proud of sooner rather than later.”
The idea of Azriel falling made my stomach churn. Even now, with the happiness both Memphis and Gus felt in this moment, there was still that underlying sense of loss. I didn’t think it was something I would ever understand. But for Azriel to lose whatever it was that still affected the Fallen millennia later? I didn’t want any part of causing that kind of pain, no matter how I felt about Azriel. I would not let him fall because of me.
Memphis shook his head. “I think you a missing the point here, Gus. The Archangel Michael, the very Hand of God was in a BDSM club. Watching Uriel.”
Gus rolled his eyes. “It’s Michael. He’s basically everywhere.”
“What you are seemingly too dense to understand, Gusion, is that Michael knows. If Michael knows, then the Father knows. If the Father knows, then he is not doing anything to stop it.”
Gus shrugged. “Humans do these things every day. It isn't our purview, or the Angel’s for that matter, to clean up the mess of humanity. Only they can do that. It is lazy to ask for divine intervention when there is so much they can do to help themselves. No, my interest in Uriel extends only as far as the fact that his morally ambiguous plot almost got Hope killed, and that is something that is in my purview. Because I-” he snapped his mouth shut, and a solid wall came over his emotions like a bank vault.
“Because you what, Gusion, Fallen Angel, Prince of Hell?” Memphis prodded, almost cruelly.
“Because I feel things for her,” he turned to me, his face pained, “that I swore I would never feel again. She isn’t only your fated True Love, you obnoxious asshole. She’s my last chance too. But because I never wanted to feel the pain of losing someone again, I ignored my own fate. But there is no ignoring your destiny. It doesn’t give a fuck about your feelings or your plans.”
He disappeared then, leaving me staring at the empty air where he’d just been.
“You guys know how to make a dramatic exit,” a voice said from behind us, and I turned to see Blue, his eyes hooded and his hair adorably mussed. He wore only his suit pants, that were still miraculously perfectly pressed. He walked over and pressed a kiss to my lips, basically daring Memphis to say anything. Memphis’ face tightened, but he stayed silent when I didn’t pull away. We had made an agreement, what felt like a lifetime ago, and he seemed set on honoring it.
Memphis stood, coming over so he was between my thighs where they dangled from the kitchen bench. He gave me a branding kiss that I felt all the way to my toes, a blend of reverent and resentful that only Memphis could master. I let out a low whimper as his tongue pushed into my mouth and he deepened the kiss. Woah.
Then he broke off and looked at Blue, who’s eyes were blazing with anger and jealousy.
“She is not a possession to be had, human. She is a queen to be honored, a soul to be worshipped. What do you have to offer her except death and pain in your short life?”
Blue got up in Memphis’ face, either because he was brave or just plain crazy.
He poked Memphis in the chest, and the way the huge angel looked at the offending appendage, I was worried he’d snap it off. “I can offer her a life. Children. A family and a home. You can offer her the pits of hell.”
With that, he turned on his heel and stomped back into the bedroom, slamming the door so hard that the picture frames rattled on the walls.
My heart was hammering in my chest, as I tried to comprehend what the hell had just happened. Did Blue admit feelings for me? Did he offer to have my babies? I ran my hands through my tangled red hair, huffing out a breath.
“I can’t even, right now.” I shimmied off the bench and padded toward the bathroom. “I’m going to have a stupidly long, hot shower, and then if we are all done beating our chests about who owns me, I know a way to track the members of Tenebrae and maybe do some good in the meantime, yeah?”
I closed the bathroom door gently with a soft click, and washed away my worries under a deluge of scalding hot water.
We sat in the parking garage of Maximoff Richards apartment building one more time. Maximoff was apparently still in hospital undergoing a range of surgeries to reconstruct his knee. Somehow, I was going to hold off on the mournful violin music for his struggles.
No, I was watching for someone else this time.
When I saw my mark exiting the elevator, I slid from the front seat of the SUV and walked over.
Marco didn’t look any different since our last meeting, far less banged up than his employer, and I smiled in greeting. My smile fell when I saw who was behind him though. A beautifully made up woman, her blonde hair falling down her back in what was obviously a very expensive haircut, a designer bag clutched tight against her body. A boy, about six, with big, sad eyes stood beside her, clutching the hand of a tiny, dark-eyed girl, a stuffed bunny pressed against her chest. The Richards family. Maximoff’s wife and kids. Apparently, Marco was the bodyguard for the whole family.
Marco took a step forward, his face a feral kind of angry, standing between me and the group of people behind him. I held up my hands placatingly. “Hey Marco. We are all good.” I searched his aura for the telltale red stain of Uriel, but I got nothing but a furious yellow. I breathed out a sigh of relief. However, I couldn’t say the same for Mrs Richards, who’s aura was stained right up to her shoulder and across her chest. Tenebrae.
I stopped, really staring at the group then. Marco wasn’t standing between us, and Mrs Richards. He was standing between me and the kids.
Well, that was interesting. I stared hard at the little girl with her huge brown eyes that looked oddly like Marco’s and nothing like Maximoff Richards. I remembered what Blue said about that slime-ball, how he beat his wife and kids, and another piece of the puzzle that was Marco fell into place.
I focused on Marco’s emotions, and he had that cold, flat feeling that Blue got when he was working. He was ready to do what needed to be done, to protect the kid. I pushed deeper. Both kids, though only the girl was his. He felt nothing but disdain for Mrs Richards though, although at some point he must have felt something more for her, if my understanding of the birds and the bees was right.
“What’s going on here, Marco?” Mrs Richard’s high pitched voice was grating. “I’m going to be late.”
Marco signed something at the little boy, who translated. “He says that if we would like to get into the vehicle, he’ll be a second. That these people are associates of our Father.”
I felt the surge of disgust in Blue’s emotions, but he didn’t refute the claim.
Mrs Richards’ huffed, and strode off, leaving the kids to trail after her. Marco signed something else, causing the little boy to smile, and the little girl to sign something clumsily back. The boy held the girl’s hand as they walked carefully toward the huge, pretentious BMW.
I put a hand out to touch Marco’s fingers as he watched the kids in the carpark.
I was prepared for the wave of love he felt directed entirely at the two departing figures.
“Yours?” the question was a little redundant.
Cara is mine. Sammy isn’t mine by blood, but he’s still mine, you know?
Apparently, Marco remembered that he could speak directly to me. I’d wondered if he’d write the whole thing off as a concussion induced hallucination.
“Mrs Richards looks like a bitch,” I whispered in a low, conspiratorial voice.
He laughed inside my mind, and it made me smile. She's worse. Not as bad as her husband, but she isn’t a good person. Sadness, frustration, anger all leaked from him, and I could only imagine what would cause such a tightly leashed ball of negative emotions.
“I’m here to fix that, I guess. I want to bring them all down, but especially Maximoff Richards. But I’ll need your help. I’ll make sure the kids don’t suffer any hardship, I swear it. Plus, I know some really good lawyers and some really ‘persuasive’ people, I guess you could say.”
You sound like a mobster. His eyes were on Blue when he said that. Smart man.
“Not the illegal kind of persuasive. More the biblical kind, I guess.” I winced at my explanation. I sounded absolutely insane.
Marco regarded me, and then Blue and Memphis behind me. The hitman and the Prince of Hell. Well, the watered down version of the Prince of Hell. He still looked as scary as a nightmare under your bed, though.
I see what you mean. Okay, meet me at Giovanni’s Pizza at ten. You know the place?
Uh, yeah, I knew the place. Best pie in the city. I nodded.
Marco turned and left, climbing into the front of the BMW and peeling out of the lot.
&nb
sp; “Giovanni’s at ten,” I told the guys, who were only privy to my side of the conversation.
“Can we trust him?” Blue asked, but the question was almost rhetorical. He came from the old school where you didn’t trust anyone.
But I knew a man who could see your darkest secrets. I turned to Memphis. “What do you think?”
He paused, his eyes watching the BMW’s taillights disappear into traffic. He nodded, but his face was grim. “Only one way to find out.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
I sat on Gusion’s lap as I ate the perfect blend of sauce, cheese and pizza dough. This seriously was the best pizza in Manhattan. Gus had reappeared in the early afternoon, after our visit with Marco the Marshmallow, and went on like nothing had happened this morning. Like he hadn’t had a disagreement with Memphis and basically said he loved me and that I was his fated soulmate.
And you know what? I was okay with that. I had enough on my plate without unpacking all that stuff right now.
Gus kneaded my denim covered hip, making happy little orgasm sounds as he chewed his pizza.
“We need to teach the demonesses how to make this shit,” he said on a moan. Memphis let out a low chuckle.
“Sure, but you can be the one to tell Ace why those harpies are all up in the palace.” I wiggled back further in Gus’ lap, making him emit a noise that had nothing to do with pizza and everything to do with the fact my ass was pressed right against the growing hardness in his pants.
“You sure we can trust this guy? How about we just go home right now?” His voice sounded pained, and I smiled sadistically. No prize for guessing what he’d do as soon as we stepped through the door of my apartment.
I shook my head at him and just enjoyed the moment. How long had it been since I’d just taken a moment and really appreciated how lucky I was? Before Rella’s death, certainly. Maybe even before my abduction. These guys gave me something, a refuge from the constant bombardment of life that was my curse, or blessing. Each one was becoming more and more special to me, and I was petrified that one day soon, they would make me choose. I thought of Azriel.
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