by Harley James
“Jessie, no! You’re mine!”
A roar in her head. She started to draw back from the powerful body that held her close.
“Jessie!” The voice, louder in her head, but distracted. “Fight…fight for us.”
She shook her head, the cold night air caressing her skin when firm hands pushed her sweatshirt up, a man on his knees, his tongue laving her belly. She frowned and brought a hand up to caress the golden head.
Gold hair.
Not Nate’s.
“Sex demon, Jess! Fight him with the rosary—”
She stumbled back with a gasp, her head fuzzy, so terribly disoriented. Like trying to see through the windshield at night during a driving rainstorm. She fell as though in slow motion, twisting away from the large hands that reached for her. Pain bursting as her skin peeled on contact with the concrete.
White hot pain ripped away the confusion.
“Stay away from me, you devil!” She scrambled toward the door of Basilica. Lachlan grabbed her ankles and pulled her away from the church. Her breath came hard and fast as he pushed her back to crawl on top of her. He smiled, and he was so beautiful. Don’t look at him. She didn’t know what to do.
Nate and the archdemon were making sounds that would never leave her head.
Lachlan trailed a hand down her cheek. “I’ll take you away from here and give you the best night of your life. But first, you have to look at me, my sweet.”
She couldn’t help the moan that slipped from her lips at his husky voice. His evil touch. She needed to do something before he completely fried her brain again. But what? Her body went soft as his hands cupped her breasts, the rosary sliding across her heated skin…
The rosary! Her eyes opened. “You will never know how to kiss like Nate.”
Lachlan smiled arrogantly. As he leaned down to kiss her, she shoved the crucifix into the side of his throat. He seized, then began to quake violently, his skin sizzling, flashing red and blue as his screams echoed off the church doors. She pushed out from under him as another white-blue blast of energy heaved everything every which way, shoving her to her knees. She shook her head, glancing to where Nate now tottered, bloody, unsteady on his feet in a shallow crater.
Alone.
Where the hell was the archdemon? Even Lachlan had suddenly disappeared.
“Jessie, get up, move!”
She got to her feet, glancing toward the vicious sounds to her right. The tree she’d shimmied down earlier bent again, its branches spiraling around three demons who ran toward her. Nate launched himself at her attackers, his crescent blades raised overhead. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe as he beheaded the demons with three furious swipes. Filled with raw power, he didn’t even look like himself anymore. He was almost as scary as those he’d vanquished. Her legs wobbled, her head pounded even though the demons—all of them—were gone.
She backed away from Nate. “You f-fight as viciously as they do.”
“Stop being a child. What do you think this is? A polite debate among dinner guests? These bloody demons will suck out your soul while they watch the light die from your eyes. After that they’ll leave your carcass for wild animals to fight over for their nightly entertainment. If you give quarter to a demon, you won’t have the chance to fight the next one.”
“Did you kill the archdemon?”
“They cannot be permanently erased, only sent back to Hell. But no, I didn’t do that either. He’s just playing with me. He—and the rest of his horde—will be back.” Nate brushed his bloody blades on the side of his pants. “This is war in all its horrific reality, Jessica. Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”
With that stinging rejoinder, he turned and walked toward Jawahar, his blades glinting as his arms swung at his sides. She would have never guessed demon blood would be red. Shouldn’t it be black or at least something other than the color of human blood? She was trying to make sense of something that she would probably never understand. Meanwhile the man who’d saved her was walking away, and her heart felt like it was drowning. Something was crushing her chest. She wanted to cry and the tears were right there, but she couldn’t let them fall. She couldn’t let him get away because what if…
“Nate!” Don’t leave me.
He stopped and turned to look at her. His eyes were different than they’d been this morning. Everything about him communicated distance. “I won’t let harm befall you.” His voice was slightly less distant, but still husky-harsh from the recent violence.
She pressed her hands together under her chin, her lips beginning to wobble. “I don’t know how to do any of this.”
He didn’t say anything, just shifted both blades to one hand, then raised the other one to her, his eyes still bright with battle adrenaline.
She should run away. He was scary on so many levels. And it seemed like he was pulling away emotionally, even as that hand beckoned her closer.
Run.
She ran. To him.
It would probably be the worst decision of her life.
Chapter 29
Nate held Jessie close to his body as they teleported, but he released the backs of Jaws and Dorian’s shirts as soon as they were safely inside Mirage. Easing Jessie into a warm bath was his last mission before he’d allow himself to collapse. He’d nearly run dry streaming the four of them at one time after going head to head with the likes of Asmodeus.
He’d nearly lost.
If Jaws hadn’t lobbed that second demon cocktail of holy water, chrism oil, and communion wine at Asmodeus, Nate wasn’t sure he’d be standing here right now.
It shook him. As a Guardian, he’d never come that close to the end of it all.
And with Jessie’s life at stake—hell, the whole world at stake if the archangel wasn’t lying—this was horrific news.
Dorian groaned and rolled to his back on the dance floor beside Jaws. “Dude, thanks for the lift, but tough landing, bro.”
Nate left them lying there and lifted Jessie into his arms. Her rhythmic sniffles chiseled his heart into slivers. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck as he shushed into her hair, carrying her upstairs into the bathroom of their loft. He turned on a dim light, set her down on the bench by the tub, and bent to remove her boots, not trusting himself to look her in the eye. He didn’t know how to face her accusation that he was as brutal as the evil he battled. Was afraid to show her how weak he felt and how distracted he had been by her presence.
He was coming to need her.
He helped her stand, then peeled her olive cargo pants down her legs. His hands shook as they lifted to the hem of the sweatshirt Jinx had left for Jessie, along with enough practical clothes to see Jessie through the next millennium. She needed him strong, and he needed to recharge. His erection grew heavier, thicker, thinking about the best way he could rejuvenate. But he couldn’t make love to her after what she’d been through. If he could get her washed up, remove that sex demon’s scent from her skin maybe he wouldn’t feel so crazed.
The demon had touched her. Kissed her.
Licked her.
His pulse rocketed, remembering it. Reliving the awful rage and helplessness he’d felt for those horrible moments when he’d grappled with Asmodeus, knowing he couldn’t help Jess. How long would it take Lachlan to heal and come back for round three?
How long would it take Asmodeus?
Even when—if—he somehow managed to overcome the archdemon, his soul mate’s life would always be in danger if he kept her with him. Those were the facts. His life revolved around demons.
How could he do that to her? He didn’t even deserve her.
He turned on the shower, raked the sweatshirt over her head roughly, and pushed her under the shower spray. When his gaze finally met hers, her wide, wet eyes instantly quenched his fury, leaving a liquid sense of lamentation. She wrapped her arms around her body protectively, and he wanted to die.
“I’m s-sorry,” she rasped. “I know I shouldn’t have been outsid
e. Scourge ran off, and I was afraid for him.”
His throat squeezed painfully. He hadn’t protected her from any of this, and now he’d made her think he was angry with her. He stepped into the shower fully clothed and pulled her into his arms as her tears finally came in earnest. No, he didn’t deserve her. How could she fit into his world? He could only imagine how she felt. The violence she’d seen. The abject terror of learning that monsters and demons actually existed.
And that they wanted to possess her. Hurt her.
The water sluiced down their faces as he kissed her eyes, her temples, the high cheekbones he loved. Her lips. The warm, cleansing water washed away the blood. Washed away the incubus’s scent from her bruised skin. “Forgive me, Jess. Forgive me.”
Steam rolled between them as tears ran down her face. “I couldn’t find Scourge. And my grandparents…”
He framed her pale face with his hands. “Animal spirits are too good, too pure to be possessed. Besides that, I’ve never met a wilier dog than The Scourge. He’ll hide out until we find him. And as long as Walt and Tilly haven’t ventured out, they’ll be safe. I set heavy protection wards.” And Asmodeus didn’t know anything about them yet. He hoped. “At first light of dawn, I’ll take you to them, and then we’ll track down your scrappy pooch. The demons get way more pleasure terrorizing humans than animals, okay?”
She nodded slowly. “Okay. I was worried for you, too.”
“You think to protect me?”
“You mock my concern.”
“No. It’s only that…” No one has ever cared. Truly cared. “I’m the Guardian, the one who protects.”
Her eyes took on a faraway look that he didn’t like. “Why is this happening?”
He paused for a moment, deciding how much to say. She deserved the truth. And as he knew very well—for better or worse—knowledge was power. “The demons are looking for a relic.”
Her eyes cleared. “A relic you guard.”
He nodded. She was so damn smart. “Long before time began, God ordered Archangel Michael to escort Lucifer to Hell for his insurrection. Angels who’d followed Lucifer’s rebellion became known as The Fallen. Their ranks form different classes of demons who wreck havoc on humanity when they have the opportunity to escape Hell and come to Earth. In addition to watching over humans, Guardians across the globe protect religious artifacts that embody divine power. Lucifer covets these holy objects because they are the keys to releasing him from his cage once and for all.”
Nate held both of her hands, watching her carefully as she processed everything.
“Is he—this Asmodeus—really Lucifer’s child?”
“Afraid so. Satan compels succubus women to visit his cage, then he rapes them to produce heirs,” he said.
“Heirs for what purpose, though? Doesn’t he want to rule Hell all by himself?”
“Indeed. But since his blood runs through the archdemons, they have a measure of his power, and he has some manner of control over them. They are the perfect lieutenants for his army. There’s no way he can win against his brother and sister archangels without a lot of backup.”
“Sister archangels?”
He shrugged. “The Bible was written in patriarchal times. There are a lot of accounts that aren’t completely accurate.”
She rubbed tired eyes. “Tell me more about your family. I know you lost a brother. Did you have other siblings?”
He tensed, though he understood that she was only trying to make sense out of senselessness. He stepped out of the shower, heedless of the puddles he left on the floor. He turned on the tub faucet, adjusting the temperature exactly how she liked it. He stared at the rapidly filling basin, not really seeing the water.
He knew different types of pain by color. A hard kick to his guts usually produced a blinding white, made all the worse by the endless hunger that twisted inside him like a living thing.
Black had always been the tormented, awful sounds he’d heard when his father slipped behind the curtain on his sisters’ side of the room late at night. Black.
Black.
Black.
He’d been shocked that his father hadn’t bled black when Nate had finally found the courage to put an end to those noises.
He flinched when Jessie’s hand touched his shoulder.
“Let’s get you soaking, and then into bed for a long overdue rest,” he said.
Her gaze ran over his wet clothes, her eyes unguarded. “Join me.” He was about to refuse, but she unhooked her bra and peeled off her underwear. “You’re hurt. Let me help you heal.”
His throat dried. She was so lovely. His gaze traced the feminine lines of her face down her neck to her shoulders, the defined clavicle that was such a work of art, the heavy, more-than-a-handful breasts, and her soft belly where he could almost imagine his chil—
He shook his head, the pain in his groin from the wet, constricting pants almost a welcome distraction from the impossible direction of his thoughts. “You’ve been through so much today, I cannot.”
“This isn’t about taking advantage of me. I will ask more questions later. But I need you right now, Nate. I think we need each other.”
He peeled the wet clothes from his body, too weak to think them off, then brought her naked skin to his. He stepped into the tub, then lifted a hand to her. Wasn’t much he’d ever been afraid of. But the thought of losing her turned his insides ice cold.
Their mouths met as their bodies joined. Jessie’s back arched, her hair trailing in the tepid water as she settled down around him. She rolled and swiveled her hips, riding him slow and purposefully. Like she meant it. He’d never met anyone like her. Good to her core. She was drawing him there—to her center—and keeping him, binding him, without even knowing it.
He would learn to pray. Learn to pray for the strength to let her go so she could be safe.
Nate’s hands slicked up her belly to cup her breasts, mesmerized at the way they moved. Gentle little jostles, so different from when his thrusting hunger made them bounce, yet no less erotic. When he leaned down to tongue her nipples, she moaned. He gritted his teeth, nearly losing his control at the carnal sound. She began to move faster. He shifted his hips so she could grind herself harder at the base of his pelvis. Water sloshed over the sides of the tub. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, her breath quickened. His hands came up to fist in her wet hair. Her silver blue eyes met his. He saw himself in them. Felt a belonging.
It was too much. He couldn’t hold on. “Jessie.”
A plea she understood. Her lips opened on a sound he was becoming addicted to, her orgasm a thing of beauty. Jessie in bloom. He watched her flushed cheeks, her eyes, the silken skin he’d come to know as well as his own. Watched her as a sizzling wave of energy speared through his gut, spreading through his veins, into his cartilage, bones, sinew.
He watched her as long as he could.
Then, he let go.
Chapter 30
Jessie stood beside Nate on the heaved sidewalk in front of Mirage, trying to comprehend that the sun was actually starting its daily ascent when the orange light breaking between the tops of the battered skyscrapers made it appear mid-afternoon.
Crazy how being dropped in a five thousand square mile sinkhole changed your perspective.
She stepped over a downed streetlight to better see the fleeting rays. They wouldn’t last much longer. Soon they’d be swallowed up by the growing cluster of ashen clouds that hugged the edge of the jagged building tops.
The streets felt so empty. No cold-weather, hardy mums in pots. They’d all been smothered by heavy layers of dust or crushed by falling debris. No traffic. No people. No noise.
“No birds.” Maybe she missed them most of all. She looked over her shoulder when Nate approached.
“For you, I will bring them back. For now, the safest place for them is far from here. And the safest place for people—even emergency responders—is inside their homes or places of business. Sometimes compulsion
is for the best, Jess.”
Though she hated to concede, he was probably right. The Guardians and the humans in their inner circle had taken the injured they’d rescued back to the club or to various hospitals across the metro, which were fully staffed with compelled doctors, nurses, and support staff who’d been on duty when the city dropped and would continue to be on duty in a continual loop like nothing was amiss until either the Guardians released them from compulsion…or the compulsion failed.
Please let it be the former. What human could possibly best a demon? Until their eyes changed to black when they lost the battle for their souls, the possessed humans looked completely normal. They could usually get close to their next target without raising any red flags—until it was too late. Nate had told her that if she focused, she would be able to detect a demon’s faint black licorice odor.
Not that she ever wanted to get close enough to one to confirm or deny this.
“How much longer are you going to be able to compel the people to stay in their homes or workplace?” she asked.
“Not much longer, unfortunately. Not if I’m going to have enough energy to put down Asmodeus.”
“If you’ve managed to keep everyone inside, does that mean the demons have nothing to do but hunt animals?” If she’d gone to sleep while Scourge was being ripped apart by demons, she’d never forgive herself.
“Scourge is going to be fine, you’ll see. We managed to keep most people inside some form of shelter, but not all. We don’t know why certain humans—psychics, for one—are immune to Guardian compulsion. The demons would have found them first.”
She rubbed her arms as her chest warmed with shame and relief. Someone had likely stood between her dog and certain death last night. “Are we any closer to figuring out how he’s able to keep outside government and military emergency responders from entering the city?” What must they think beyond the force field? Was the national news covering this, their press helicopters circling the Twin Cities? She imagined it like a big bubble encircling the entire area, imprisoning them under glass like specimens under a microscope.