Wicked Nights aotd-1

by Gena Showalter

  “I cannot guess your race,” he finally said. “You appear human, yet you have the demeanor of a Harpy. Therefore, your origins are indeed questionable.”

  Her smile melted into a frown. “You angels and your honesty. It’s beyond annoying.”

  “And yet you will never have to wonder if I truly mean what I say.” He signaled the bartender for another drink for her. A shot of ambrosia-laced vodka, by the scent of it. The sloshing glass arrived a few minutes later.

  She downed the contents and slammed the glass on the tabletop between them. “Mmm, that’s good stuff.”

  “Only the best for my lovers.”

  “I’m not your lover.”

  “But you could be.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Do you want to know what else is good, Cario, woman of questionable origins?”

  One dark brow arched, the expression somehow softening her features. “If you say your penis, I’ll barf.”

  He shrugged, and tried not to smile. “Then I will not say it.”

  “Well, I won’t take you on, just so you know. Not you, and not any of your friends. Your tastes are legendary, and not at all similar to mine.”

  “You would—”

  “Like it if I tried it, blah blah blah, but the answer is still no. But here’s a question for you.” Her head tilted to the side as she lost herself in thought. “If I said yes, that I’d be with one of you, who would you pick? Yourself or one of your friends? Perhaps the right answer will change my mind.”

  He immediately excluded himself from the running. He might need the distraction, but his boys needed it more and he always, always, placed their needs above his own.

  When they had parted upon reaching the club, Bjorn had sported red-rimmed eyes and lines of strain around his mouth. He could use a release. Xerxes had abstained from sex last night, and though he might not like the touching involved, he still needed the contact. And of the two, Bjorn had an easier time picking—and winning—a female.

  “So Xerxes it is. Very well, I accept. I will be with him,” Cario said with a nod, and there was a gleam in her eyes. One of intrigue and anticipation, and he thought perhaps she had desired the angel all along and that was the reason she had come here so often.

  As happy as he was with her supposed change of heart, he gritted his molars. “I would appreciate it if you stayed out of my head.”

  “That’s nice,” she replied, and he knew she had no plans to stop.

  Well, then, if he couldn’t keep her out perhaps he could make her regret listening. Why do you want Xerxes? Did you see him from afar and fall in love with him? Is that why you’ve come here so often? Is that why you’ve never gone home with another male? Surely you realize how hopeless such a love—

  “Shut up,” she snapped. “I don’t love him.”

  “You must feel something. You certainly signed up for the sex fast enough.” He meant no disrespect, was merely pointing out another truth, as well as expressing his curiosity. Besides, he was as easy as she was and had no room to judge.

  “I won’t talk about him.”

  “Will you try and hurt him?”

  “No. Never.”

  Truth. In one fluid motion he stood and held out his hand. “Let’s go, then.” He would take her to Xerxes, then he and Bjorn would drink themselves into a stupor.

  Cario hesitated only a minute before twining their fingers. He tugged her to her feet and ushered her out of the room, up the stairs, past guard after guard and into his personal hallway, where luxury blended with comfort.

  “I’ve never been up here,” she said, her tone giving nothing away.

  “Nor will you ever be again.”

  “A one-time thing, huh?”

  For her? “Yes.” A mind reader would be tolerated only long enough for climax to be achieved.

  Xerxes, like Thane himself, had had the softer emotions beaten out of him. And an ongoing relationship between two hardened beings like Xerxes and Cario could never work. The two would kill each other. Although…if one of the hardened were shattered…

  Look at Zacharel. Once as cold as ice, he now burned white-hot, placing his Annabelle’s well-being above his own.

  The entrance to Thane’s room opened, the sensors recognizing his identity. Bjorn must have watched him on the wall of monitors, because the warrior stood at the ready with two drinks in hand.

  “Where’s Xerxes?” Thane asked, accepting one of the glasses and draining the contents.

  Bjorn’s gaze slid over Cario, and he nodded his approval. “Checking on his charge.”

  “I’ll handle McCadden and send Xerxes to you.” He gave the female a gentle push toward Bjorn and stepped into the hall, shutting the door behind him. Down the hall he stalked. Xerxes’ door was closed, but heated voices trickled out.

  “—lock me up. I’m sick of it!”

  The voice was unfamiliar to him, which meant the speaker was McCadden.

  “Your feelings matter little. I was not told to make you happy. I was told to keep you safe and out of trouble.”

  “Well, I told you. I’ll leave the Lords of the Underworld alone. I’ll stay away from my goddess.”

  “She isn’t your goddess,” Xerxes shouted.

  “She is! I fell for her. I crave her, and I know she craves me.”

  “And that is exactly the reason you will stay here, in this room.”

  A black curse was hurled, and then the sounds of struggling bodies erupted. Oh, no, no, no. McCadden would pay for daring to challenge Xerxes. And if the warrior vomited after this…

  Jaw clenched, Thane pushed open the doors—these opened automatically only for Xerxes—but stopped short when he saw the outcome of the brawl.

  Xerxes had McCadden pinned, one hand at the guy’s neck, the other holding his wrists above his head. The warrior was breathing heavily, peering into McCadden’s eyes with determination.

  “Do you yield?”

  “Never.”

  “Foolish.”

  “No, just proving a point. Now get off me,” McCadden snapped. “Now!”

  Xerxes jumped off the man with a low growl. He tangled a hand through his hair—but he didn’t vomit. “What point were you trying to prove?”

  “That you can’t force me to do anything.”

  “I can and did. I will.”

  “If you think so, then you are as deluded as you claim I am about my goddess.”

  Thane wasn’t sure how Xerxes could tolerate the other’s touch when all others bothered him. “May I interrupt?” he asked.

  Xerxes whipped around to face him, red suffusing his cheeks. “I’ll beat him into submission if I must,” he muttered.

  “Whatever.” McCadden walked away and slammed a bedroom door behind him.

  Thane arched a brow, but mentioned nothing about the fallen’s defiance. “I found you a woman, my friend.”

  Xerxes cast his gaze to his feet, hiding whatever emotion had sprung in those crimson eyes. “Not tonight. I’m too tired.”

  “But—”

  “No. I can’t. I just can’t.”

  Something was going on with him. Something more than usual. “I will give her to Bjorn, then.”

  A terse nod from the warrior.

  He should leave. Thane knew he should leave, but he couldn’t bring himself to abandon his best friend. How tormented Xerxes appeared. There had to be something he could say to help. “I could use some company. Will you join me?”

  “I— Yes.” He threw a glance over his shoulder to McCadden’s door. “All right.”

  He’d cut himself off before speaking a refusal. Xerxes loved him too much to deny him. Thane knew his friend would have preferred to stay here, trying to garner a vow to behave from the fallen angel, but he wasn’t sure that was wise. The two would fight again, and as on edge as Xerxes was, he might do something he would regret. Like murder the first person he’d…not befriended, that wasn’t the word. Maybe…tolerated, since his torture.

  �
�I love you, you know,” he told the warrior halfway down the hall. “No matter what, I love you.”

  “As I love you.”

  When Thane reentered his bedroom, he was surprised to find Cario and Bjorn standing across from each other, silent and glaring daggers.

  From one heated scene to another. Well, he’d certainly gotten the distraction he’d craved, hadn’t he. “Something wrong?” Thane asked.

  Both tossed him a scowl, but only Cario answered. “No. Nothing. Just enjoying…your friend’s…wit.” Her gaze snagged on Xerxes. She licked her lips, shifted from one foot to the other. “Hello,” she said, voice now a shimmering whisper.

  His friend gave no reaction.

  The acrid taste of her lie claimed Thane’s attention. She had enjoyed nothing. Grimacing, he strode to the wet bar and filled three glasses with single malt. He downed his and took his friends theirs, knowing they hated the foul flavor of lies as much as he did. They accepted gratefully.

  “I cannot be with this creature,” Bjorn said, his disgust clear.

  “You were never on the menu,” she replied tartly, gaze still on Xerxes. As tough as she’d looked down at the bar, she now resembled an eager little girl at Christmas, ready to open her presents.

  “What a blessed day this has turned out to be, then,” Bjorn said drily.

  “I’ve eaten little boys like you for breakfast. Believe me, you do not want to mess with me.”

  Bjorn was quick to snap back, “Actually, there’s nothing else I’d rather do than mess with you. And I doubt you’ve eaten them so much as feasted on their rotting carcasses.”

  She lost her eagerness. Actually appeared insulted. “I do not feast on the dead.”

  “You sure about that?”

  Her elbow whipped back, then slammed forward. If Bjorn had not possessed amazing reflexes, she would have broken his nose. As it was, he was able to catch her fist midair, preventing any damage.

  “Such a weakling,” Bjorn said with more of that disgust. Disgust now laced with smug superiority.

  “Is that so?” She knocked her forehead into his, and this time he couldn’t stop her. A grunt left him as he released her. He swayed on his feet.

  Anger rose inside of Thane. “You do not hurt my friends, female. Ever. You told me you would not, and I heard the truth in your claim.”

  Her nose went into the air. “I must have lied.”

  No. He would have sensed it. But it was apparent she had changed her mind. “You will leave now,” Thane said. As if that had still been in question. She was lucky she was still alive. “I’ll escort you out.”

  “Escort me out like so much garbage? I don’t think so.” She spun on her heel and pegged him with the fierceness of her frown. “I’ll show myself out.”

  “Feel free.” He moved aside.

  She cast Xerxes another glance, as if she expected him to do or say something. The warrior did not. Finally, she stomped past Thane, past Xerxes—careful not to touch him. The door slammed closed behind her.

  How many doors would he be forced to replace before this night ended?

  He kept his gaze on the monitors, ensuring she did indeed leave the club. A quick call, and he added her name to the list of people never allowed to return.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” he heard Xerxes ask Bjorn.

  “No.” The single word sounded as if it had been pushed through a cavern of broken glass.

  “My apologies for the poor selection,” Thane said. “If you would like someone else, I can—”

  “No!” they said in unison.

  Fair enough. “What did she say to you after I left?” he asked.

  Bjorn massaged the back of his neck. “She’s a mind reader.”

  Xerxes’ eyes widened as he stepped backward, toward the door, as though he meant to hunt her down and slay her for such an ability.

  “I know,” Thane said. “I figured that was a price worth paying for an hour of her time. Besides, she would not get much from us. Merely sexual thoughts.”

  Rainbow eyes glowing with otherworldly rage, Bjorn snapped, “She mentioned what had happened to us. She knew every detail.”

  “Impossible.” Only the three of them knew the worst of the particulars, and there was no way she could have unearthed so much buried so deeply even with weeks of constant contact.

  “Nevertheless. She did.”

  Should have killed her. Thane picked up his phone a second time and told the vampire at the other end, “I have changed my mind. If the woman named Cario ever returns, don’t turn her away. Detain her.” He slammed the receiver back into its cradle and struggled for calm. “What shall we do for the rest of the night?” They hadn’t spent a night without at least one of them being with a female in years, but now more than ever, he was desperate for a distraction.

  “I want to discuss ways to rescue Jamila’s body so we can give her a proper goodbye,” Xerxes said.

  Shoulder’s slumped, Bjorn muttered, “If there’s anything left of her.”

  “We won’t know until we find her,” Thane said. “We must search every demon hideout possible.”

  “But we’ll be putting our own lives at risk for a dead woman,” Bjorn was quick to add. Searching a hideout was how they’d been captured all those years ago.

  “Some lives. In all the ways that count, we’re already dead,” Xerxes replied softly.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ANNABELLE PACED THE LENGTH of the newest hotel room while Zacharel reclined lazily on the bed. After she’d apologized (and meant it), he’d flown them all over the globe. Days had passed, almost every moment spent in flight as he ensured no demons followed them, and he deserved a rest. But to remain unaffected while she freaked out? So not cool.

  “We’re in Denver,” she said. “Minutes away from my brother’s house.” They’d gone there first, but no one had been home. A blessing or a curse, she wasn’t sure.

  “Yes.”

  Of course that’s all he had to say, the jerk. Why wasn’t he telling her this would be okay, that her brother would welcome her with open arms and she would leave happier than when she’d arrived?

  “I’m going to see him, talk to him.” And question him about the days before her parents’ murder. Cold fingers of dread crawled the length of her spine. Could she do it? Did she have the courage? She could face demons, no problem. But her brother?

  The last few sentences in his final letter played through her mind.

  I never want to speak to you again. You took away the only people I loved, and I will never forgive you for that. For all I care, you can rot in hell.

  “He won’t help us,” she added, her tone hollowed out.

  “He will. Now I will hear you say so.”

  I will not sigh. “Is this the faith thing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine. He will.” She glanced over at her angel and just…stopped moving. He utterly took her breath away. Dark hair disheveled, green eyes alight with need.

  Need. He has need. Of…me?

  A decadent fire consumed her in seconds, burning her up. She remembered how cool his touch had once been, then how hot, and oh, sweet mercy, she wanted to feel that change again…

  “I’m going to keep our bargain,” she blurted out.

  His chest stilled, as if she’d taken his breath away, and his hands flattened on the comforter. “I cannot stop you.”

  Wait. “You want to stop me?” she practically shouted.

  “No. But I think you are currently overdressed.”

  A laugh bubbled up. Sneaky, teasing angel. “Well, then, let me see what I can do about that.” Trembling, she reached down, fisted the lapels of the hotel robe she’d donned after taking a shower and slipped the material from her shoulders. Hair cascaded into place, tickling her bare skin, and his body went taut.

  “The rest, sweetheart.” A hum of arousal rose from him, luring her, always luring her. “Remove the rest.”

  He wanted her naked, she realiz
ed. Vulnerable. His to do with as he pleased. Just then, she was utterly okay with that.

  She hooked her fingers into the edges of her panties she’d bought in the gift shop, hesitated only a moment then pushed the tiny scrap down her legs. A conscious effort was required to straighten and hold her arms at her sides rather than hiding her curves. She was okay, but she was also nervous about his reaction.

  “You are so beautiful, Annabelle. A work of art.” Slowly Zacharel rose to his haunches, wings stretching out behind him. He removed his robe and crawled to the edge of the bed.

  Oh, baby. He was the work of art. Every inch of his body was cut by hard muscle and potent sinew. Skin stroked by the sun glowed with crushed diamond luminosity. But…the smudge of black on his chest, just above his heart, had spread, little rivers winding out of it in several different directions.

  It wasn’t a tattoo, couldn’t be.

  “Zacharel,” she said, concern for him overshadowing her desire.

  “You and you alone have nothing to fear from me.”

  He’d misunderstood her concern. “Zacharel…”

  “Come here, sweetheart. Please.”

  Sweetheart. How could she resist such an endearment? And the please? Yeah. Utterly helpless. They could discuss the smudge later.

  Much later.

  A step closer to him… Another… She paused. “I know this will be your first time. I don’t want you to worry if—”

  “We will not have sex,” he said, the force of his determination a hard brush against her skin. “Not today.”

  “But…why?” And was that whiny tone hers?

  “When we are finally together, you will not fear me in any way.”

  “But I’m not… I wasn’t—”

  He waved his hand through the air even then crackling with tension. “I have considered this a lot. I have never done anything with a woman, but now I will do everything with you. And in the doing, we will build up to the sex.”

  Uh, just what did “everything” encompass?

  Okay, so, maybe she was a little scared. But that wasn’t going to stop her.

  “I want you, Annabelle,” he said in a silky tone.

  “I want you, too.” An achy whisper.

  “Then come the rest of the way.”