Angel Fire: Angel Fire, Book 1

by Johnston, Marie

  Yes, it was. His team was getting too close to someone and they had used Kreger to take care of the problem they were creating.

  This time he did move to the couch to fold her into his embrace. She curved into him, crying softly against his shoulder. Her warmth seeped through his gown, a different kind of intimate than before. Even his body knew she only needed comfort, not proof of how she affected him.

  She’d paid for him doing his job. The only Numen powerful enough to order Kreger around were other senators. Even if an angel of lower status blackmailed Kreger, they were still in the realm. The problem originated in Numen. A conspiracy.

  “You wanted to know why I chose you to sync with.” Her words were muffled against his robe, like she was ashamed by her upcoming admission. “Because I saw your picture and thought I could finally sleep at night with a male like you watching over me. A warrior that wouldn’t let the bad guys hurt me if they came back.”

  He closed his eyes. And he’d assumed the worst of her.

  “I’m sorry.” She sniffled. “I’m being such a baby. A grown angel afraid of the dark.”

  “Don’t,” he growled. When she cowered at his harsh tone, he realized his error. “Don’t ever feel bad about your fears.”

  That was enough to comfort her. He held her while she cried quietly, releasing the pent-up emotion of keeping a significant, terrible secret for so many years.

  Bryant considered her situation. She had agreed to mate with him because she feared for herself and had no one to turn to. She trusted him to protect her and it was his innate duty to protect the angels of the realm. He’d help her—and keep his hands off her. When she was safe again, they would annul their sync. She’d be free to pick the life she wanted and not the one she was driven to out of fear.

  As much as he wanted her, she wasn’t his to have.

  Chapter 10

  Odessa couldn’t say how she knew a change came over Bryant, but she was ensconced within his embrace, wrapped warmly in his thick wings. But it went from touching consolation to…perfunctory. Like he’d mentally distanced himself from her.

  She couldn’t fault him after her show of sobbing and sniffling into his strong shoulder, basically confessing that she was the weaker sister. And afraid of being alone. All after her sister had copped to luring her ex into sex—her ex who had already been looking for another bed to warm. If all that didn’t scream what a catch Odessa was, she didn’t know what else would.

  Odessa was never going to get ahead with the warrior. One step forward, two steps back. The idea of a real relationship was getting further and further away.

  Her emotions stable, she straightened out of Bryant’s warmth and peered into his concerned, shining eyes. Her breath caught. She’d only known him as edgy, irritated, angry, and mostly cranky. This new look into Bryant made her heart stutter. The normal harsh planes of his face had softened; his gaze had warmed. He hadn’t shaved lately, and the dark shadow of stubble framed the scarred ridges on his left side.

  Odessa traced his scars, her fingers whispering over the raised planes. Could he feel anything? Was there any sensation left in the cindered nerve endings?

  He stiffened, and she feared he’d pull away, but she continued and he remained still. Deftly, her fingertips stroked the uneven lines by his mouth, up to his cheek, and feathered along the scarred striations pulling at the corner of his eye.

  “Is that why you don’t smile?” she murmured, her thumb stroking the injured corner of his mouth.

  “What?” He sounded strangled, his body tight next to hers.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile.” She skimmed her thumb away from his lips.

  “I can.” His breath tickled her. “But that side won’t move as much.”

  “So that’s why you don’t. But you should.”

  She continued her perusal, aware she was affecting him, but not knowing how. Finally, she reached his ear, outlining the withered ridges. He flinched, but froze at her censuring expression. His ear deserved the same attention as his face. Much of its shape was retained, though mottled and scarred like the other skin, it definitely had taken the brunt of the angel fire.

  From his ear, she flitted her fingers around the back of his head. She searched for how far the ruined skin ran before normal healthy skin dominated, then caressed around to his jawbone and down his neck. Much of the same wrecked skin ran under her touch, though not as severe as his face. Odessa lingered as the base of his throat, admiring the strength in the corded muscles of his neck. They flowed into a wide chest that could only be found on a warrior with hours of training and warring.

  Pushing the shoulder of his robe out of the way revealed how shallow his breathing had become. She had a tiger cornered in a cage, one who didn’t know whether to bite the hand petting him or bare his belly for her stroking.

  She knew what she wanted him to do.

  Sliding a hand around the back of his head, she drew downward. The glow of disbelief in his face before her lips touched his almost made her grin.

  Odessa took charge of the kiss, licking and tasting. If her sister wasn’t in the other room, she might finally have this male.

  His wings hugged her closer, then he suddenly drew back.

  They’d been having a wonderful connection. She gazed at him through her lashes to cover her confusion.

  He tenderly unfolded her from his embrace. Another contradiction to why he’d stopped. Tucking his wings behind him when he stood, he held his hand out to help her rise.

  As Harper would say, WTF?

  “Go upstairs and get into some loose clothing. I’ll go in the office and get changed.” Before she could question him about his sudden mood swing, he shouted for her sister.

  Felicia came out. Her strained, pinched expression broke Odessa’s heart. The worst moment in her life had been discussed with a stranger. Odessa’s reaction to Bryant’s treatment paled in comparison.

  To Bryant’s credit, he didn’t shoot her sister a pitying look, or even worse, avoid looking at her entirely like their father had. He glanced over his shoulder, not turning entirely, and now that they were standing, Odessa knew the discreet reason why.

  “We’re going to get changed. Can you move the furniture out of the way?”

  Stark relief that he hadn’t brought up her traumatic past wafted through Filly’s features. Then confusion twisted her lips. “Sure?”

  “Great. Be right back.” He snatched up his duffel on the way to the office.

  Odessa exchanged baffled glances with Felicia and went up to her room.

  After Bryant shut the office door, he barely prevented himself from collapsing on the marble floor.

  No one. No one touched his scars. Neither had anyone ever touched the rest of him with the compassion or reverence she had. The way those teal gems had lit with curiosity, learning the contours of a face not even he bothered with.

  He’d almost popped off the couch like a hot kernel in scalding oil when she fondled the knob that used to be his ear. He often entertained the notion of getting rid of it all together, but it was still able to offer some protection to his ear canal. And for the removal to be permanent for an appendage like an ear, he’d have to use angel fire.

  No deal. The searing, agonizing pain from the first round still sang loudly in his memories.

  Then Odessa’s elegant fingers had moved down his chest and he was ashamed at his body’s response so soon after her confessions. He had just thought about helping her start her life anew, one where her safety wasn’t dependent on him. If she touched him like that again, ever kissed him like that again, his resolve to not mate her would crumble like a soggy cracker.

  Shite, he’d better quit thinking like that. His heart was beating harder in his cock than in his chest. Going through his gear, he dug out some black sweats and a T-shirt. After he dressed, he searched for his inner peace until his body was back under control. When the sisters conversing outside the door broke through his trance, he floa
ted out of his meditation.

  “Bryant, the furniture’s moved,” Odessa called.

  “I’m dying to know the type of crazy you’re bringing to this place,” Felicia added.

  Stepping out, all of his serenity almost exploded at the sight of Odessa. He managed to nod his approval at her choice of athletic shorts, longer than her sister’s, and sports bra and tank top. She didn’t need to bare as much skin as Felicia for her appeal to be undeniable.

  Bryant switched his attention to the main room. Felicia had indeed muscled the furniture to the edges, leaving the area rug open. Perfect.

  “Great. Felicia, you said you can take care of yourself. I assume that means you know basic self-defense.”

  He was learning Felicia’s personality wasn’t one to wilt away, even after the nightmare she’d survived. He had suspected there was more to her, and her extreme measures to protect her sister had issued a strong point, along with her ability—rather, willingness—to shove heavy furniture out of the way. She wasn’t an aimless, troubled female. He didn’t know how much of her reputation she’d earned or how much was exaggerated—possibly with her help—but she acted deliberately, that was for certain.

  Felicia’s eyes lit up. “Are we teaching Ode how to fight?”

  Odessa glanced between them. “Oh, I couldn’t. I mean, I’m not the type to hurt a living creature.”

  Warriors were rarely bred from the ranks of the elite. Their status in Numen made them too arrogant to take orders from others. They clung to a belief that Numen were too divine for brutality. Many felt too far removed from lowly humans to engage in rough behaviors like fighting. And there were those, like Odessa, who didn’t believe humans to be lowly, base creatures, but firmly adhered to no-violence policies.

  Bryant would have to change that idea. “To defend yourself, you might need to hurt some creatures.”

  Felicia nodded emphatically. “And hitting something is an awesome form of stress relief.”

  “So is a bath.”

  Felicia shrugged, her wings still morphed into her back. “I don’t like my skin getting wrinkled.”

  Odessa frowned at the room and hugged herself. Bryant feared his attempt was an uphill battle, until she spoke. “You’ve learned to defend yourself?”

  “I’ve learned more than that, Ode. I’ve learned not be defenseless or helpless.” A hard edge radiated off Felicia. What had the female been up to in the human realm for so many years?

  Learning to fight, apparently.

  His mate turned to him, her mouth in a resolute line. “Let’s get started, then.”

  * * *

  The respect Bryant had for Director Richter had grown exponentially in the last sixty minutes. An hour ago, Bryant, Odessa, and Felicia had arrived at the director’s office. They unloaded their accounts of past trauma and new and old conspiracy, and the male had listened without interruption.

  Director Richter sat behind his elaborate oak desk; books and training manuals lined the wall behind him. His wings were relaxed, arms crossed, and his off-white gown moved with muscles continuously tensing and relaxing. He pinned Bryant with a grave stare. “Vale, you’re saying that the mission Senator Montclaire sent your team on was intended to kill you all because you got too close to a conspiracy that may originate with one of the senators?”

  “Yes, sir. We were on the trail of a powerful archmaster. He seemed more connected than other demons, more deliberate. And he always seemed to know which humans were especially vulnerable and had no watchers monitoring their actions.”

  The director’s features pinched, but he nodded. “Miss Montclaire and Lady Vale, you think you two were attacked to persuade your father to be a corrupt senator’s lackey and order Vale’s team to be terminated?”

  Both sisters agreed. Odessa’s small smile appeared cautiously optimistic that the director could and would help them. Felicia’s gaze was wary. She must be uncomfortable having another know of her personal trauma.

  The director continued, his attention aimed at Odessa. “The notes you gave Cal contained observations of human trends that suggest an organized movement against our realm? Maybe even an organized demonic movement?” When Odessa nodded, he kept going. “You surmised that a black rose tattoo means they are a follower of whomever the leader is. A bloody barbed wire tattoo means they’ve done more than follow. The hub of activity is the club the missing watcher cited in her report?”

  Odessa’s smile faded. “Actually, I think a barbed wire tattoo on the right biceps means they’ve done more than claim devotion. There’s disturbing evidence that might suggest they’ve acted almost like a sylph and helped to create conditions ideal for human possession. It would make sense the bloodied barbs are even more significant. A higher rank, so to speak.”

  “Any more tattoo messages?”

  “I assume there are, but I haven’t narrowed them down yet. If we can discover what humans are doing to give them more value to demons, then we’ll start seeing more tattoo trends. Right now, I’ve catalogued every ink symbol Magan reported. There’s just nothing else numerous enough to determine a trend.”

  The director leaned forward, his elbows on the tabletop. “Do you think you could go through your list again and identify more significant symbols now that you know there is indeed a pattern?”

  “I could try.” Odessa glanced at Bryant in question.

  Bryant nodded that he’d be with her. “Sir, I request to be pulled off duty until Odessa’s safety is secured. Urban can lead in my place.”

  “Your team will be reserved for special duty.” When Bryant opened his mouth to argue, the director held up his hand. “I can’t have them targeted again. Not until we know why a senator would send a team into a trap.”

  He was crack on. Urban and Dionna needed to be questioned on what they remembered from fourteen years ago when Bryant had earned his scars. The revelations of the past twenty-four hours might shed new light on what had happened. Maybe they could fill in anything Bryant had forgotten or missed while he’d spent months in agonizing recovery. The other four members had replaced the previous team members that had gotten killed, and their ignorance of the situation could be fatal.

  “Miss Montclaire will need protection,” the director continued. “Vale, who do you think will be best from your team?”

  “Oh, dude, that’s so okay.” Felicia broke in, her brass hair gleaming under the skylight when she shook her head. “I’ll just lay low in the human realm.”

  “Bronx or Dionna would be my choices. The others”—Bryant assessed his mate’s sister—“might clash personality-wise.”

  Odessa’s perfect lips twitched like she was trying not to snicker. Her sister had been tenacious, ruthlessly running Odessa through self-defense moves, much more authoritative than Bryant would’ve been. He had been glad to have her there. Where he would have backed off and let Odessa gather herself, Felicia had been relentless. She hadn’t let up until Odessa had executed each move perfectly, without flinching.

  “No.” Felicia was adamant. “I don’t want a warrior getting all up in my business.”

  The director offered another solution. “We can assign you a female—”

  “Even worse.”

  “Felicia, you have some admirable skills.” But she couldn’t offer herself enough protection. Maybe giving her some say in the decision would make it easier to swallow. “We don’t know who we’re up against or what kind of resources they have. You can have your pick from any of my team.”

  Odessa reached for her sister’s hand. “Filly, please.”

  Felicia grimaced, torn. Odessa’s worry was clear. All these years, they’d been trying to protect each other. Bryant hoped Felicia would give Odessa the peace of mind.

  “Fine.” Felicia’s mouth grew wide in a sly grin. “Only if I get Julian Hancock.”

  Oh, bugger. What had he set poor Jagger up for? “May I ask why?”

  “You can ask all you want.” She flipped her ponytail. “He’ll know
why.”

  Chapter 11

  Jameson had his woman up against the wall, ramming into her, her legs wrapped around his waist. They were just inches away from where they could be seen by Andy in the meeting room, and he liked it like that. So did she. Andy had bad news. All the more reason for Jameson to finish his business with Lindy before he went and got all tensed up.

  “You’re so big,” she breathed in his ear, and he came undone.

  Once he finished grunting like a bull into her hair, she lowered her legs to the floor. After she extracted him from her body, she rolled off the condom. He liked that about her. She kept her panties off, let him take her anywhere, and cleaned up after them. He might keep her longer than planned.

  She gave him one more scorching look that almost earned her round two, but he couldn’t let a female distract him from business. Jameson leaned in, nipping and licking her neck.

  “Here.” He reached into his wallet and gave Lindy a few hundred-dollar bills. “Go get something fun for me to rip off tonight.”

  She palmed the bills then him before walking away. Her hips swayed in a way that dominated his attention. Not that it took much. He loved women’s bodies, loved how they gave such pleasure, let him forget…

  Zipping himself back into his slacks, he also closed his suit jacket to make sure any wetness on his clothes was covered. He was a walking cloud of sex, but he needed to look professional.

  He ran his hand over his slicked back hair, then straightened his tie to finish making himself presentable. When he breezed into the board room, Andy waited with a stack of papers and laptop open in front of him.

  Jameson chose his normal chair at the head of the table. “Give me the bad news first.”