Angel Fire: Angel Fire, Book 1

by Johnston, Marie

  Her breath caught. Is this it? If they moved forward and had sex, they would be bound together for eternity. Did he want that? From the looks of him, he wanted her.

  “I was just checking that you were all right.” He sounded forced, strangled.

  How would she sound when she answered him? Breathy? Needy?

  “Yes. I was just going to take these boots off. They hurt my feet.”

  When he didn’t move other than to give a slight nod of his head, she crossed to the settee on the far side of her room and sat. She stretched a leg out to untie her boots. They came just over the knee, the tie at an easy spot for her to work on, but it was like her fingers weren’t connected to her mind. She fumbled at the laces. The imposing male in the room with his wings nearly quivering with repressed desire distracted her.

  She sensed him drift closer before she saw him. Her fingers uselessly picked at the knot.

  “I just can’t seem to get this.” She laughed nervously.

  He squatted down in front of her and put one knee on the floor so he straddled her foot.

  “Let me help.” He focused on the flimsy strings.

  She gave up on the ties and held her breath, trying not to remember how capable the talented fingers were that were unlacing her boots.

  He deftly picked at the bindings and when they were loose enough, he lifted her foot and slid the boot off. Cool air flowed over her skin. She sighed in relief.

  Bryant shifted the other knee to the floor and worked on the second boot. Same held breath, same mesmerized gaze, she tried not to move as he loosened the ties and slid it off.

  After dropping the boot to the side and giving her bare legs one last scorching look, he glanced up.

  “I got the feeling I upset you earlier.” His words were like a caress, his slight accent making her shiver, a movement that didn’t go unnoticed.

  And he’d come to find out why? Her heart melted. “No, but I think we should talk.”

  “About what?”

  “Us.”

  He shuttered his gaze. She feared she’d lost him and the raw honesty she’d seen. She cupped his face before he closed himself off. She expected him to pull back, instead his eyelids floated shut and he leaned in to her touch.

  “Do you want to stay synced with me?” She was afraid of his answer.

  He opened his eyes, and she was pinned with amber fire. “The decision isn’t mine alone. What do you want, Odessa?”

  She loved how he said her name. “I asked you first. Do you want me?”

  Hot hands landed on her thighs, and she almost gasped at how much she needed him to touch her, caress her. She wanted to feel more of him on her naked skin. He rubbed small circles with his palms, the vibrations settling into her core.

  “I want you more than I’ve wanted anything. Looking at you all day, not being able to be with you…it’s painful. You ask me if I want eternity with you, and the answer right now is that I’d agree to anything to lay with you.”

  She had wanted honesty, she got it.

  “What do you want, Odessa?”

  She stroked his cheeks with her thumbs before dropping her hands to his strong shoulders and savoring the slide of the smooth fabric of his black shirt under her fingertips.

  “When that guy told us about killing the warrior, it hit me. That’s what you do.” He stopped massaging her thighs, waiting for her to continue. “You put yourself in danger every day for our kind.”

  “Yes,” he said softly. “It’s who I am, and I won’t change that.”

  “I like how you stand up for what you believe in and protect what’s yours.” Unlike her father. “I realized that we’re wasting time. You could be killed, I could be killed. What are we doing tiptoeing around each other?”

  He was rigid, his muscles tight, like a coiled snake, ready to strike. Calloused hands slid farther up her legs, over her shorts, and to the buckle.

  “Be very sure, Odessa. We’ve already synced. If you say yes, there’s no going back. You are mine.”

  “And you’re mine,” she whispered. Oh God, was this going to happen?

  He hooked his finger over her waistband. “It won’t matter if you’re a higher class than me. It won’t matter what your father does. I won’t quit being a warrior. But I won’t live in the barracks. I will be here with you, in your bed.”

  Finally.

  Odessa realized she spoke that word out loud when he bracketed her hips to drag her shorts down. Arching back, she gave him the room to do so. They were so snug, sticking to her skin, he tore at the seams, ripping them off her.

  “I hope you didn’t want to keep these. But those fucking boots are going to stay.”

  He really had liked how she’d looked. Odessa bit her lip. What would be his next move?

  He lifted her shirt and removed it. She was naked before him.

  “Odessa,” he rasped. “I can’t believe how beautiful you are.” He cupped her breasts as if weighing them in each hand. “Perfection.”

  Splaying his hands across her ribs, he ran them down her belly, his avid stare soaking in every visible inch of skin. She wanted to see him, wanted every bit of skin on his body for her perusal, but the way he was making her feel…intoxicating. She wanted more.

  He didn’t stop, skimming his hands past her belly button and down to stroke her core, but he didn’t linger. He lifted and pushed her thighs until she was bared to him, her slick pink folds greeting him, waiting for him.

  “You’re so beautiful, so wet for me.”

  He languidly stroked his thumb between her crease.

  Odessa moaned and arched into his touch. Reclining, she settled into her soft wings, allowing him complete control over her center.

  “I’ve got to taste you.” He dipped his head toward her.

  She exhaled a gasp as soon as his silken tongue found her sweet spot. A low growl of approval resonated from his chest and he licked the length of her slit, dipping his tongue into her. Her hips undulated in response. Only one word rimmed inside her skull.

  More.

  “My word, you’re like honey.” Increasing the pressure, he flicked his tongue against her clit, changing pace, building the intensity.

  She spread her hands out over his scalp, loving how each small muscle flexed as he worked his tongue against her. He wrung gasps from her. She was trying not to shout, aware they still had company downstairs, but when he inserted one long finger, she almost cried out.

  She clamped down on her bottom lip. He thrust and set a steady pace. She moved with him, seeking the release her body so desperately needed.

  “Do you want this, Odessa? Do you want me?”

  Still biting her lip, she wanted to snarl at him to keep going. When she saw the stark reality of his question in his whiskey pools, she knew he meant more than just climaxing.

  Before she could pant her yes, he dipped his head back down, attacking her nub, smoothly sliding his finger in and out. She was lost.

  Her release hit like a lightning bolt slamming through her body. The rush of energy was so strong, she feared her heart would stop. She wanted to scream, to shout his name, wail into the night, but the sound froze in her throat. Flinging her head back against the cushions, she rode the wave of her orgasm, barely keeping her fingernails from scoring Bryant’s skull.

  He kissed her drenched skin and removed his hand before raising his head. She wanted to fall into a boneless heap, but she wanted Bryant more. He crouched back on his heels, watching her as if awaiting her reaction to what they’d just done, expecting it to be negative.

  “I want to see your body,” she said.

  With measured movements, he unbuckled his shoulder holsters. He was shrugging out of them when there was a pounding at the door. Odessa jerked upright and Bryant froze.

  “Vale?” Dionna hollered

  “What the fuck?” Bryant hissed.

  Odessa gulped, afraid the warrior might open the door and walk in even though it was her private quarters and this male
was her mate.

  “Vale!” Dionna tried again.

  “What?” His anger at being interrupted poured into that one word.

  “Director Richter’s here and he needs to talk to you.”

  Bryant dropped his chin to his chest. Was he counting?

  Odessa uttered her thought out loud. “It must be important.”

  His gaze snapped to hers, and except for a brief flare of uncertainty, he calmed his expression. He was back to being the cool-headed team leader. Did he think she wanted him to go?

  “I’ll wait here for you,” she offered. “For when you’re done.”

  The flush of heat in his gaze mixed with relief. Instead of leaving, he held out his hand. She accepted it, liking how he was still very aware of her body.

  “Crawl into bed and cover up before I open the door.”

  She did as he asked, not bothering to put on anything before she burrowed between the covers. He tucked her in. Repressed heat touched with tenderness wavered in his expression. Odessa was struck by the intimacy of the moment. He had just been as close as a mate could get, settled between her legs, but drawing the covers up around her was…sweet.

  He’d been gruff, cranky, obstinate, bossy, serious, angry, passionate, but not tender. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought him capable, she hadn’t expected to experience it.

  Enjoying the view of his tall, powerful body striding toward the door, she gave him a little wave when he looked back before he left.

  Alone once again in her room, she could hardly wait for him to return so they could seal their sync once and for all.

  Chapter 18

  Jameson glared at the senator. “I thought you said you had your end contained.”

  After texting his Numen contact a big WTF, the senator had agreed to meet him in their prearranged spot. An off-the-beaten-track area of the desert where they were safe from prying eyes of all kinds.

  “There’ve been some complications. It’s getting taken care of,” Beto Kenton replied smoothly, his slate-gray wings held high and proud like most obnoxious elite angels.

  The distinguished male had perfectly coiffed yellow-blond hair and an oval, angular face with deep-set sharp blue eyes. At first glance, he looked like a Numen whose calculating ambition could be easily dismissed.

  “Warriors were in my club.” Jameson loomed over the senator. His plans had nearly dissolved, and after all he’d suffered. “Good thing there was only one archmaster in attendance, and that he’s a colleague of sorts. Otherwise, I’d have one very important demon thinking I’d turned traitor.”

  Gerzon would rip him apart. Jameson’s followers might be loyal, but the real test would be when they witnessed the slaughter of their own as Gerzon and his devoted mowed them down to get to him.

  Instead, Jameson had convinced Sandeen any Numen interference would be quickly dealt with. The male had nursed his busted nose, mostly concerned with a delay in his research and whether his host could still get it up. That right there was a good reason why Jameson didn’t trust him. Any being with the ability to wield power should do so. Sandeen talked like a shrewd, dynamic male—at times. Mostly, he acted unaffected and patient. Why wasn’t he satisfied with anything less than overtaking a realm?

  Senator Kenton’s gaze darkened. “They will be dealt with.”

  “It’s not just a few warriors we’re talking about here,” Jameson gritted out. “They work in teams—you know that. Can you deal with seven warriors without drawing attention?”

  The senator raised himself to his full height, which was still inches shorter than Jameson. “I did last time, didn’t I, when Gerzon had a team of warriors trailing him?”

  “And if I recall correctly, half that warrior team is still around, still causing me trouble.”

  “I told you they would be dealt with. This kind of work takes finesse. An entire team of warriors and a senator’s daughter being terminated will raise eyebrows. I have a plan to make it look like an accident, but it will take time.”

  Time? He knew all about time. These plans had been in progress for decades, and he was reaching the boiling point. It was still early yet, his power tenuous, but he was so close he could taste sweet victory. In the quiet moments before he drifted off to sleep, he imagined marching into the realm, over revered Numen soil, and looking the smug senators in the eyes that had determined he was no longer worthy of his wings. Then, with the power of the Daemon legions at his back, he’d slaughter every last one of them before turning on his hateful, spiteful mate that had spearheaded his exile. Chanel. The angel that had seized his ascension ability, and especially the angel that had severed his wings from his back, would pay. Each angel that heard his screams that day would suffer the same pain.

  If the incompetent fool before him didn’t ruin everything.

  Kenton was Jameson’s eyes and ears in Numen and that was the only thing keeping him alive now. The double scythe damn near vibrated against Jameson’s chest as if it had a natural affinity for angelic blood and it wanted that blood spilled.

  Senator Kenton’s arrogance and superiority complex led him to Jameson, seeking to use him as a means to overthrow the Numen government. Jameson long suspected the senator had observed his demise those long years after he’d lost his wings. And when Jameson had started to thrive, he’d stepped in. The senator didn’t want to protect humans, he wanted to use them to rely on their kind for survival and to worship the Numen as the senator thought just.

  What he didn’t realize was that his time was severely limited once Jameson breached his former realm. Once the senator’s use was fulfilled, he would meet the same fate as Jameson’s punishers.

  * * *

  Bryant’s mind wanted to wander back to his time with Odessa, but the task at hand was too important. Director Richter had shown up, interrupting the most decadent experience Bryant had ever had, and filled him in on the bad news. Enforcers wanted to infringe on his duty to protect Odessa.

  “I don’t trust them,” he had stated plainly to his boss.

  “I don’t either, Vale,” the director had agreed. “That’s why I want you and Odessa to interview each enforcer and select for yourselves which ones you want protecting the mansion.”

  Both Bryant and Director Richter agreed that at least two of Bryant’s team should hang around, and no enforcer would be allowed inside the mansion. Odessa didn’t need to be bothered with interviewing strangers tonight, not after he’d had her laid out and vulnerable just minutes ago. The thought threatened to make him hard again. It had been no small battle calming his body down after he had to leave a beautiful female who seemed to openly desire him, and not just the experience of being with a battle-hardened soldier.

  Since it was late, the director had agreed to let Bryant conduct the interviews and then, if she wished, Odessa could cross-examine them in the morning when she was rested.

  He was on his sixth candidate. They needed at least three, and Bryant was severely critical and highly suspicious. So far two enforcers had been rookies just out of training, one had been too interested in Odessa, and one he almost drop-kicked back to the precinct for not taking this assignment seriously. Only one had passed his rigorous interview so far.

  Bryant was beyond impatient to get back up to his mate and finish what they’d started, but he needed to make sure she was protected by nothing but the best. Director Richter stood next to him out on Odessa’s lawn because Bryant refused to allow a single enforcer through the doors of the mansion. The dark of night was lit only by the faint glow of moonlight and a scattering of the fireflies that constantly roamed the realm.

  Candidate six was wrapping up a spiel on the best form of hand-to-hand combat when Bryant cut him off.

  “You’re dismissed.”

  The enforcer stopped and looked to Director Richter.

  The director pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thank you for your time.”

  The enforcer stalked off the lawn and took flight.

  “For Heaven
’s sake, Vale. What was wrong with that one?” Fatigue weighed on his boss.

  “He was arrogant. I don’t trust him.”

  “If arrogance was used to rule out every candidate, then your entire team wouldn’t qualify. I don’t want to rush you, but you need to make your choice before Stede interferes.”

  The guy was right, but Bryant didn’t like it. He trusted his team, and no one but them, with Odessa’s safety.

  “Fine,” he growled. “That guy will do.” But he wasn’t chasing him down. “Bring on the next one.”

  The seventh candidate was a female with a short pixie cut and the build of the gymnasts he used to see on cereal boxes decades ago. Maybe humans still did that, but he quit eating his Wheaties when it got to be too much of a pain in the ass to hide his face in the grocery store.

  She was professional, and even though she was young, she still had years of experience policing their realm.

  “You start the next shift, Tosca.” The tiny enforcer bobbed her head at Bryant’s orders. “One of my warriors will be on hand until all of you have worked at least two full shifts.” Bryant knew Stede wouldn’t like it, but it was an innocuous request and Stede’s refusal would raise too many questions.

  After getting the first enforcer settled into his shift with Dionna and giving the director his good-nights, Bryant practically sprinted through the door and bounded up the stairs. His shaft was back to full and throbbing by the time he strode into Odessa’s suite.

  A small, round orb like a snow globe cast a gentle yellow glow near the four-poster bed. He suspected Odessa made sure to never sleep in the dark after her attack, especially if she was alone.

  The soft sounds of steady breathing told Bryant that he would not be finishing what he’d started earlier with her. She was fast asleep, curled up on her side under the blankets he had tucked her into himself.

  Damn.

  He walked quietly to the bed to gaze down at his mate. To make sure she was all right. That was as good an excuse as any. Her curtain of hair fell over her face and draped across her bare shoulder.