Letting go of his shoulders, she flung her arms wide, past her wings, clamping her hands on the edges of the shelves. Bryant licked and nibbled at her neck, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body.
She tightened around him, hugging him deep inside, resisting each slide out, wanting to keep him close.
He moaned against her neck. “If you don’t want this, say it now.”
Her answer was tightening her legs to take more of him in. She was so close to an explosion, and she wanted to lose herself with him. He groaned again and pumped into her, his hands digging into her flesh.
Rearing his head back, the cords stood out in his neck as his face pulled tight. Her name was like a devotion on his lips as he released inside of her.
Warmth spread through her, her knuckles white with the force of her grip on the shelves. His climax spurred her own.
“Bryant!” Stars exploded in her vision. A deep sensation of bonding settled over her. A reassuring glow of comfort and warmth signaled her soul intertwined with his. They were still tangled together with her wrapped around him. Two halves part of a perfect whole.
They quivered together as the finishing aftershocks faded. Odessa peeled her hands off the shelving. Scrolls littered the floor. She twined her arms around Bryant’s shoulders, burying her face into his neck. She loosened her legs slightly; the impressions of his tactical belt probably marked her thighs.
Bryant turned his face into her hair. “Are you all right?” His spoke so soft, affectionate, she smiled into his neck.
“I’m awesome. You?”
“I’m not done yet.”
She smiled wider, biting her lip. “I noticed.”
“But we have work to do, and I couldn’t stand it if anyone walked in and caught us.”
After the ruckus they just made, anyone in the archives may indeed come searching.
He gently cupped her chin, lifting her face up, searching it intently. “You sure you’re all right?”
She let her smile shine again. “I’m fine. Really.”
He looked around them, at the mess on the floor. “This isn’t where our first time should’ve been.”
“Are you kidding? It was fabulous. Think of the story we can tell.”
He gave her a stern look, as if it was no one’s business where they got it on. Of course not. But…the archives!
Bryant pulled out of her, as hard as he was when they had started. He helped her settle her feet back on the floor and drape her dress down. With more than a little difficulty, he tucked himself back in his pants. She straightened her dress, and he stopped, his body rigid. With visible restraint, he stepped back and pivoted to the side.
“I don’t stand a chance against you and that damn dress,” he mumbled before he headed to the door.
The dress had been the right choice. Same with her decision to forgo underwear.
“So I was thinking,” she said, following him, “that the way we deal with fallen is to forget about them. It’s almost as if speaking of them brings bad fortune. I doubt their records would be given their own room. The way we angels obsessively keep records, I know they have to be down here, in a dedicated area. They would probably be stuck in a nook or shelf that’s, like, an afterthought.”
He stared at her with the same gleam he’d had when he looked at her dress. “Makes sense. If you had to come and throw something down here, where would you go?”
Odessa mentally ran through all the different areas she could remember in the archives. They’d already gone through the main ones, so what records area would have spare room?
“Land records. Not much changes here, and we often live in the same homes for centuries. I bet there’s room for a shelf of non-land related stuff.”
“We’ll head there.” Bryant crossed to the door but stopped and held up a hand for Odessa to be silent.
She could hear angels speaking—and they were getting closer.
A male’s voice drifted through the door. “I’m telling you, I heard shouting from over here.”
Odessa’s eyes widened.
“Is this like your office?” Bryant whispered.
Why would the archives be like her— Oh! The hidden panel door. They each skimmed the room, hands out, feeling for a wall that could double as an entrance.
The handle on the door jiggled turned downward.
A breeze lifted her hair. “Odessa,” Bryant hissed. He had a narrow panel cracked. She scurried toward him. He nudged her inside the dark office and slipped in after her but didn’t rush to shut the panel. It whisked closed as the main door swung open.
Bryant grabbed her hand, but they remained still. Her heart was racing at almost getting caught, but Bryant’s grip was firm, his breathing measured. She attempted to follow suit.
A male and a female murmured on the other side.
“Ugh, this room needs a cleaning,” the female said.
“Agreed,” the male replied. “We must’ve heard the scrolls clatter on the floor. Some of these shelves need repair.”
“I shall leave a note for the cleaner.”
The door opened and closed again.
“Think you can find the land record room from here?” Bryant released her hand to tap a light sconce on the wall, feeding it only enough energy for dull illumination.
She glanced around the empty office. The archivists must’ve abandoned this space, but like Cal’s office, it was surrounded by several doors.
“No luck on labels.” Bryant went to each door, one by one, and listened. Odessa did the same and the ones they didn’t hear anything in, they investigated. One panel opened into a sparse, tiny room.
“This is it,” Odessa said. “It has to be.”
She charged in, her hip bumping a rolling cart partially filled with scrolls. Her free arm cartwheeled as the cart rolled away, but it wasn’t helping. Her balance was gone, and the wheel’s faint squeaks were heading toward a shelf. They didn’t need to attract any more attention.
Bryant yanked her into his chest before that could happen and with her hugged to him, he caught the cart with a boot.
“Sorry.” Her words were muffled because she was content to stay draped against his hard body.
He chuckled and she sucked in an awed breath. He was smiling. The grin was lopsided, his injured side not rising as high as the other. Only the eye on his uninjured side had the tell-tale crinkle of a good laugh.
He immediately dropped his grin, his face settling back into the stern facade he usually wore.
Odessa reached up to caress the damage on his left side. “Is that why you don’t laugh much, or are you a tough crowd?”
He softened under her touch. “A little of both I guess.”
“Well, I’ll have to learn your sense of humor. I like your smile.”
His brows drew together as if he didn’t understand what she’d said. “We’d better start our search in case those angels come this way.”
Okay, she’d give him that one. She’d made more progress with him today than she thought possible only hours ago. Hell, only minutes ago.
Switching her attention to the shelves, she nodded. Just as she’d guessed. The shelves were only half full, but there wasn’t a section that looked haphazard.
“What are these?” Bryant stood over the cart. He snatched one, undid the tie, and rolled it open. “I knew this guy.”
Odessa peered at the scroll. In loopy calligraphy was a name and date, followed by a section that highlighted in detail all crimes committed, and ended with what the angel had to say for himself.
“He was a warrior, exiled when I was in training,” Bryant elaborated. “An archmaster was hunting Numen families that lived in the human realm. This warrior killed at least three of the demon’s hosts trying to stop him.”
That sounded bad, but… “Aren’t the human hosts usually dead after an archmaster possession?”
Bryant shook his head. “Their soul is corrupted, but it’s not up to us whether they can be saved or not
. The host can die from what the demon did to it during possession and drop dead as soon as the archmaster quits using them like a puppet.” Bryant turned grim. “That’s a game many archmasters like to play. Ultimately, it’s our job to try to save the human life, not write it off as a lost cause, or sacrifice it to do our job.”
Odessa shivered. The stories she’d heard whispered in corners her entire life were real. She’d known, but it was different being confronted with the evidence of lives destroyed. “He was exiled for killing humans. Do you think he could be a suspect?”
“If he’s still alive. Many fallen succumb after a few decades among the humans. They can’t handle the pressure and have no sense of the danger humans face each day.”
She couldn’t imagine losing everything and having to start over in a new place with nothing. Numen were a coddled and spoiled race. They had a task to carry out for the Almighty looking after His creations. Many thought themselves better than humans, more advanced, more civilized. In some ways they were. But humans had many obstacles and hardships to overcome, many experiences Numen would never find themselves facing.
Bryant set the scroll on an empty shelf. “We’ll put our strong suspect pile here. Any we know for sure are deceased or incapable, we’ll stack on the neighboring shelf. Then we’ll take the suspect pile back your place.” A mirthful glint flickered across his face. “Since my team is freed up from protecting the mansion, we can all fan out and search for the fallen.”
Chapter 20
They quickly searched through scrolls. Bryant could barely concentrate. His body was still humming from the quick coupling with Odessa. That feeling when he came inside of her, when their bond solidified…bloody epic. He had just climaxed, but he was ready to go again. The archives weren’t the place, though. He couldn’t tolerate the idea of someone else witnessing Odessa’s passion. That was for him alone.
He still couldn’t believe she’d goaded him into taking her. She hadn’t realized how little it would take for him to ignore his resistance. Anticipating her regret, he anxiously waited for her to realize her grave mistake. It would come soon.
Yes, he could pleasure her, keep her satisfied in bed. She was a passionate female, expressive in her desire. His confidence nose-dived when it came to keeping her happy on a daily basis. As an adult, he’d only ever lived in the barracks with his fellow warriors. Hell, he’d never had a steady girlfriend, never kept a relationship past the first couple of encounters. And that was before he’d become disfigured. After that, he was fortunate to find a willing body when his natural sex drive became too distracting. None had been Numen females, either. From the averted gaze and changed paths when they saw him in the vicinity, he hadn’t bothered trying, keeping to the human realm to sate his body’s needs.
Odessa read through scrolls, using her training to skim pertinent information and make instant decisions. He was grateful she was the one with him, trusting her instincts with the scrolls over anyone else he could think of. No wonder Cal had gone to her when the watcher showed some concern with her observations. Bryant had no doubt Odessa hadn’t chosen to be an analyst to stay isolated and hidden from her greatest fear. Her talent was unmistakable.
As they worked for the next few hours, Bryant wondered if Dionna had found them missing yet. Maybe she had already switched with another member of his team. He hoped she warned them to leave him and Odessa alone. Or was Enforcer Stede trying to start some shit and banging the mansion door down? Either way, his team would take care of it.
“I think that’s it.” Odessa brushed off her hands. The lower the layers of scrolls, the more dust they’d had.
Although they had looked through all the names, their priority was the most recent fallen. They’d likely still be alive, hold a grudge, and still know the angels in power. No fallen would be ruled out, but it was a place to start.
Still…Bryant stared at the empty bin.
“What’s wrong?” Odessa asked.
“I can’t say why, but I feel like we missed something.”
“Do you think there are more stored somewhere else?” He appreciated how she didn’t brush off what his gut was telling him.
“No, this seemed about right. There’s only been about three to five fallen a century.” He glowered at the empty bin longer but couldn’t come up with a reason for what his intuition told him. “I’ll put everything back, if you’ll gather up the eight we’re going to start searching for.”
He put the other scrolls back, attempting to get them close to the disorder they had been in before. Anyone coming to add another name to the pile or enter more land records into the room wouldn’t know the bin had been tampered with.
Odessa gathered up the leftover scrolls. When they were ready, he asked Odessa where the best place in the house would be to hide them.
He had already come to the conclusion himself but didn’t want to force her. He could tell when she came to the same decision he had. Color leeched from her face and she swallowed.
“My old room,” she said, reluctantly. “Anyone who gets in the mansion might search the office and my suite first.”
“Have you been in there since…?”
Odessa averted her gaze, her hands twisting together. “No. I tried when I moved back, but I couldn’t get past opening the door to the wing.”
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It was a traumatic experience for a child, and you’ve had to hold onto it as an adult.” He laid a reassuring hand on her arm and was rewarded with a grateful smile. “We’ll fly to your suite’s dais first. I’ll check in with my team, then I’ll walk with you to your old room.”
They managed to skirt the halls, spying and listening to avoid others. As soon as they hit an exit, they stepped out and took flight. Anyone that saw them would only see a couple out and about together. Once they landed on the perch outside of her room, he went to the door and listened. “It’s quiet. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay. I’m going to find a bag or something to put these in.”
Before he left, he checked on her one last time. She was heading to her closet, most likely to rummage around for a container. She caught his eye and sent him a smile that she’d be okay. He forced himself to return the gesture. She had said she wanted him to smile more, but it was like molding stiff wax. He couldn’t help how he looked so he might as well let her get used to it. The compulsion to please her wasn’t helping, either.
* * *
There it is! Odessa pulled out the pink drawstring backpack with neon yellow piping she’d bought when she first started working in the store. Dumping the scrolls into the bag, she pulled the strings tight and perched on the edge of the bed waiting for Bryant to get back. Her fingers played with the piping, memories of learning to work among humans cascading through her mind. At the store, she could forget she lived a life in fear. She could forget how alone she felt. She could live.
Her stomach fluttered. She wasn’t alone anymore. She had a male, a partner who was determined to eradicate her fear, make her safe.
That male. She still couldn’t believe he was hers. After waking up this morning, she was sure Bryant couldn’t wait to go his separate way.
Now he was hers. She was his.
The sex… Delicious. He’d taken her hard and fast. It was exactly what she had needed. He’d been coiled to detonate if he didn’t get into her. He made her feel desired. Wanted. Needed. Emotions that had been lacking her entire adult life.
She was sitting in her delayed afterglow when Bryant cautiously walked in. She knew what he was concerned about. He was willing to accompany her into a place where a nightmare had occurred. A nightmare that had followed her like a second shadow, threatening to get much worse if she told anyone. A nightmare that eventually claimed her mother, almost took her sister away, and destroyed her relationship with her father.
Going into her old room was the last thing she wanted to do. At least it had been, before she met Bryant. With him, her old room and what had ha
ppened to her family was something she could face. No longer would an empty space hold her hostage.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Not yet.” She left the bag on the floor and stood. Untying her dress behind her neck, she let it drop to the ground.
Bryant’s breath whooshed out as she stood naked before him.
“I want to be with you first. Then we’ll go to my old room.” She waited. The next move was his.
He unstrapped his shoulder harness and tactical belt and dropped each of them on the floor. “The rest of my team will be here in two hours.”
“Then my old room can wait. We have to show them the scrolls anyway, right?” She might not be begging, but she sounded breathless, needy.
He stalked toward her, drawing his shirt over his head and letting it drift to the floor.
It was her turn to stare. The body of her mate. Mouth. Watering. Her fingers twitched to run over the ridges and planes of his stomach. His arms were corded, rippling with sinewy muscle.
She licked her lower lip. The intensity of his gaze burned along her breasts and her belly. He kicked his boots off, snapped open his pants. He came to a stop before her and kicked those off, too.
She stroked along his shoulders, the ripple of the scars on his torso tickling her palms. Fully dressed, he cut a fine figure. But naked… “You are stunning.”
His wings were folded behind him, betraying the sexual tension he was holding in.
“Odessa.” He dropped his head and ran his tongue along her lips. She opened for him, tasting him. She wanted more.
Grabbing his thick shaft in one hand, she dropped to her knees and cupped his heavy sac in the other.
“I want to taste you this time.”
His look was fire. This was freeing. It was power. She didn’t beg, didn’t plead. They both wanted to be here because they were mates. For once, she felt like herself in a relationship. And she wanted to pleasure him for him, not to keep him around, not to perform tricks to keep his interest. For him. And for her.
Angel Fire: Angel Fire, Book 1 Page 19