Angel in Chains

by Cynthia Eden

  “I’ll give you everything that I have.” His promise.

  She smiled at him. “I know.”

  “And I will love you long past this life.”

  He was seriously going to make those tears start. Ah, hell. Who was she kidding? They’d already started. She was past the misting stage.

  Leaning forward, Jade pressed her lips to his. This kiss wasn’t as desperate as the one before, but the need still flowed between them. She could taste the salt of her own tears in the kiss.

  As she kissed him, her fingers slid down between their bodies. She found the bottom of his shirt and yanked it up. Their mouths parted only long enough for her to toss the shirt to the floor.

  “I love you,” he whispered before their lips met again.

  I love you.

  Her hand pressed over the thick bulge of his erection. He’d always made her want, far more than any other man.

  But then, he wasn’t just a man.

  She unsnapped his jeans and lowered the zipper. His cock sprang forward. Heavy and full, right into her hands.

  One day, she’d love to have his child. A child with his bright eyes and slow smile.

  But maybe his smile wouldn’t always be so slow. Perhaps one day, happiness would come easily to him. And to her.

  One day.

  She didn’t want long foreplay then. Didn’t want anything but his mouth on hers, kissing her so softly but deeply, and his cock filling her body.

  Az positioned his shaft at the entrance to her body. She was more than ready for him.

  With one smooth thrust, he slid deep into her sex. She gasped into his mouth because the fullness felt so good. Everything with him felt good.

  Right.

  She rose slowly and stared down at him. His cock stretched her inside—a wicked good pressure—as he grew even bigger. She tightened her inner muscles around him. Held even tighter.

  The nightmares were over for them.

  Life was finally beginning.

  His fingers closed around her hips, and he lifted her up. The length of his flesh stroked right along her clit, and she smiled at the surge of pleasure.

  Then she pushed down on him, and he filled her even better than before.

  She didn’t look away as she rose and fell on him. His eyes burned up at her, but he didn’t take control of the pleasure.

  Neither did she.

  This time, they were equal. Giving. Taking.

  Her breath panted faster as her heart thundered in her chest. His pupils widened, seeming to make his eyes go pitch black.

  More.

  Her knees pushed into the bed. He picked up the tempo with her as his hips plunged harder.

  Jade’s fingers stroked over his chest. Found his tight nipples and stroked them. His cock jerked within her in eager response.

  The need built. The tension tightened. The pleasure waited just out of her reach.

  She leaned toward him and her hair slipped over his skin. Jade had to kiss him. Had to feel his lips on hers when the pleasure swept over them both.

  Her lips touched his. His tongue slid into her mouth, skimming right over her lower lip.

  Then he was rising up, holding her tight, even as he kept his lips on hers and his cock in her. He sat on the bed, his legs balancing her so that they faced each other.

  The position drove his cock even deeper into her. I like that—like it a whole lot.

  Her hands curled around his shoulders, and she kept kissing him. Rising, falling, taking him inside as far as he could go.

  Jade’s fingers slid along his back. Traced the heavy scars that had made him into the being that he was. Az shuddered beneath her touch, and his thrusts became rougher.

  She’d told him before that she wouldn’t break.

  Jade stroked him again. Again and again and knew that later, she’d kiss those scars on his back. But for now . . .

  The climax slammed into her. It blinded her with a wave of pleasure so intense that her heart seemed to stop.

  And Az was with her. As he came inside her, Az held her even tighter.

  Her lips lifted from his, and she stared just over his shoulder at the shadow of his wings. Wings that she couldn’t touch, not really, but wings that marked him as what he was.

  Fallen.

  An angel cast out.

  An angel that she loved.

  The pleasure slid away so slowly. She shivered as her sex contracted in a little aftershock around him.

  There were more questions that she needed to ask. More truths that she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to hear. But for now, she had him.

  He loved her.

  And that was all she needed.

  They went to Sunrise that night. The club was closed. Marked off with yellow police tape. No thick line of eager humans waited to slip inside and dance with danger.

  Az figured they’d be back. Sooner or later, they always came back.

  He and Jade eased under the tape. A hard shove of his hand had the club’s front door opening. The inside of Sunrise was hollowed out and blackened from the fire. He stared at the floor, remembering what it was like to be trapped while Jade was dragged away.

  Never again.

  His fingers intertwined with hers.

  “Well, well . . .” Sam’s voice boomed as he strode down the hall. “Here to help me torch the rest of this place?”

  Sam’s Seline was by his side, but her face didn’t have the same mask of unconcern that Sam wore. No, when she looked at Sam, there was worry in her eyes.

  Az shook his head. “We’re here to help you rebuild.”

  Sam blinked. “You? You’re into destruction and death, not into putting some two-bit bar back together.”

  But the bar mattered to Sam. He could see it.

  “It’s time to move on,” Sam said with a shrug. “More places to see in this world. More things to—”

  “This is home.” Their new home. “And we can rebuild.” He offered his brother a smile and both Sam and Seline stared at him in shock.

  “Uh, Az, did that hybrid shifter hit you on the head?” Seline wanted to know.

  Jade laughed lightly at that. He loved her laugh. To him, that was the sound of pure—

  Happiness.

  “I realize that I owe you a debt,” Az said, “and I’m here to start repaying.” Because he would be the man that Jade deserved. She said that she loved him as he was. Well, she’d love him more once he atoned. Once the darkness was gone from his soul.

  He’d make her happy every day of her life, and he’d see to it that she never feared again.

  He blinked and found Sam in front of him. “What’s happening here?” Sam demanded as he studied Az with eyes that seemed to see too much. “What did I miss in that cemetery?”

  Some stories weren’t meant to be told. Az offered him a faint smile. “Everyone always said we’d kill each other one day.”

  Sam wasn’t smiling back. “No, they said if we did, the end of the world would come.”

  Jade sucked in a sharp breath at that hard truth.

  Seline strode toward them. “Sam . . .” A warning note entered her voice.

  Finally, Sam’s lips twisted into his usual hard grin. “But I don’t see the end of the world.”

  Hopefully, you won’t ever. “Fate can change.”

  Now his brother stepped back in surprise. That too-sharp gaze of his widened.

  “It can change,” Az said again, and that was all that his brother needed to know.

  Slowly, Sam inclined his head.

  “Now why don’t we get started cleaning up this place?” Jade asked, and Az saw her nose wrinkle. “Because, no offense, but it really smells like piss in here.”

  Piss. Ash. Hell. Whatever.

  Seline laughed a bit as she agreed with Jade. She came closer, and Jade lifted her eyes to the ceiling as she said, “While we’re doing the cleaning, tell me we get to ditch that cage . . .”

  The cage, though blackened with soot, still swung
from the ceiling.

  Seline looped her arm with Jade’s. “Oh, no,” she told her as they walked away. “I’m rather fond of it.” She glanced back and winked at Sam.

  Sam’s face softened as he gazed after her. But when he turned back to Az, tension spread lines near his mouth and eyes. “Fate . . .” He sighed. “You should know better than to think that it can be totally changed.” His voice was pitched low so that the women wouldn’t overhear his words.

  Yet fate had changed.

  “Jade was meant to die last night.” Sam jerked a hand through his hair. “How long do you think you’re going to be able to keep her by your side?”

  Forever. Az’s stare darted to the left. Found Jade. “I told you, fate changed.” He paused and turned his focus back to Sam. “I changed.”

  Sam studied him in silence. What was he seeing? The shell Az had been before? Or the man he was becoming?

  Then his brother nodded and offered his hand.

  Az stared at Sam’s extended palm. He’d been the one who sat in judgment when Sam had been banished from heaven. He’d watched as his brother fell, and he’d fought not to show any emotion.

  “You were always stronger than me,” Az confessed.

  Sam frowned. His hand began to lower.

  Az didn’t take the hand. He grabbed his brother and held tight. The brother he’d lost centuries ago. The brother he’d found again. “I’m sorry.”

  He should have fought for Sam that long-ago day. He’d make damn sure he always fought for him now.

  The wall he’d kept around his heart was gone. Battered away by Jade. Now he felt—so much.

  But Sam had frozen against him. Az stepped back. Stared right into eyes so like his own. Sam had been his only family. The one closest to him, until that bitter day that had burned a divide between them. Burned as surely as Sammael’s wings had burned away.

  “You were the better angel,” Sam said slowly, softly. “I could never follow the rules.”

  No, he hadn’t followed those rules. And nearly a whole army had been killed by his fury.

  But . . .

  “Some of those rules are shit,” Az admitted.

  Sam laughed, a sputter of surprise, and so did Az. He laughed and felt . . . free.

  Strange. An angel without wings had finally found his happiness, and it was with a family standing in a burned-out club on one of the wildest streets in New Orleans.

  Jade glanced over at him. He couldn’t miss the love in her eyes.

  He realized then just how lucky he was. Once, Sam had told him that angels weren’t always pushed out of heaven because they’d done something wrong. Sometimes, they lost heaven as a reward.

  Because they were offered something . . . more.

  He saw that more in Jade’s eyes.

  Thank you. He sent the silent thought out and knew that it would be heard by the one that mattered.

  All he’d needed to do was experience a little fall in order to find his paradise.

  As the last streaks of darkness slid from the sky, Az walked out onto Jade’s balcony. The sun would be up soon. He could already see the faint streaks of red—like blood—sliding across the horizon.

  He stared at the darkness and quietly called, “Bastion.”

  Az knew the angel would come. He’d caught Bastion’s scent several times that night.

  A rustle of wings, then Bastion appeared beside him. The angel was frowning. Ah . . . Bastion had better be careful. He was showing more and more emotions lately.

  Soon he might find himself walking with humans.

  “I have an offer for you,” Bastion said with a dramatic air.

  At that, Az lifted a brow. Maybe it was too late already. The guy almost sounded human.

  Az glanced toward the open balcony door. The white curtains billowed in the breeze. “What kind of offer?”

  “You can come back.”

  His hands tightened around the railing. “Says who?”

  “The angels in charge.”

  But they weren’t really in charge.

  “I’ve earned redemption?” Az knew he sounded doubtful. “How?”

  “You . . . ah . . . haven’t earned redemption.”

  He frowned. Right, thought so.

  “But some think you might be perfect for a new position that is becoming available.” Bastion paused and cleared his throat. “The punishment angels need a leader. After the way you dispatched Brandt—a being tainted by evil who possessed our own powers—you seem the first choice for the job.”

  Az didn’t speak.

  “You’ll get your wings back. Your full powers. You’ll even have an army of angels at your beck and call again.”

  His gaze returned to that open balcony door. “What happens to Jade?” Az asked quietly.

  “Ah . . . well . . .” Bastion exhaled. “Nothing.”

  Az looked at him and waited for more.

  “She’s off the books. Your Jade isn’t slated to meet her end for a very long time.” Bastion shrugged. “Seems someone gave her a direct dose of angel blood,” his lips curved lightly, “so she has a very un-human-like life expectancy now.”

  The tightness in Az’s chest eased.

  “You can come home tonight. Ditch this world and be free again.”

  He had his freedom.

  “I only wish Marna could come, too.” Bastion’s gaze turned toward the empty street below them. “But she is lost.”

  Perhaps.

  Perhaps not.

  Bastion’s wings stretched behind him. “Let’s leave so that we can—”

  “No.”

  Bastion’s wings froze. “Uh, I’m offering you a chance to return through the gates. For power, for—”

  “I’m not leaving.” He wasn’t even tempted.

  He could see Bastion struggling to understand. “For . . . her?”

  Az nodded and stared silently back at the angel.

  “You’d trade all that heaven can give, for a human?” Bastion seemed both shocked and horrified.

  Az still didn’t speak. What was there to say? Heaven had given him his human. He needed nothing more.

  A muscle flexed along Bastion’s jaw. “Fine. But know that the offer won’t be made again. You’ll be chained here, forever.”

  Promises, promises.

  Bastion turned away.

  “You should be careful,” Az had to tell him. He felt it was only right to offer the warning. After all, he’d almost killed the guy. Amends had to be made some way.

  Bastion hesitated and spared him a fuming glance.

  Ah, there it was again. “When you let the emotions get to you too much, the lure of the earth will become too strong.”

  “I won’t fall.”

  How many angels had said that? He’d said that. “We all have temptations.”

  “I know my duty. I won’t—”

  “You’re already weakened, and you don’t even realize it.” How could the angel be so blind? He’s blind, just like I was. “The rage got to me first,” Az admitted. “The fury about things I couldn’t control.”

  Like Sam falling.

  Innocents dying.

  The guilty sliding away from the punishment angels.

  Fury had been his weakness. It was also Bastion’s. “You’re enraged over Marna. That rage is burning in your gut right now.”

  “You know nothing!” Bastion snapped at him.

  “I know the sound of emotions when I hear them.” He’d warned the angel. The rest would be up to Bastion. “Be careful.”

  “I don’t need care. I don’t need—”

  “I once told Sam that it was the fire that would make him scream the loudest when he fell.” The fire that burned away an angel’s wings and stole so much of his magic.

  Fear flickered in Bastion’s eyes. He rose into the air. “I won’t fall.” His wings carried him higher. “I won’t.”

  He was already on the path to a fall. The angel just didn’t realize it yet.

  “W
atch out for the burn,” Az whispered. Because he could see it coming. “It’ll make you scream.”

  The angel vanished.

  Az didn’t leave his post on the balcony. He waited for Jade to come and join him. He’d known she was there all along. No way to miss that sweet scent.

  The curtains rustled once more.

  “You . . . you can call him back.” Jade’s voice was hushed.

  “Why would I do that?”

  “So you can get home.” She came toward him with the softest whisper of sound as her bare feet slid across the balcony. “So you can get your wings back. So you can—”

  He turned and caught her hands. “Spend the rest of my life missing you?”

  Her gaze searched his.

  “No. I’m where I want to be.” Jazz music drifted up the street. “Where I’m meant to be.” With her.

  The world wasn’t a safe place. It was brutal and hard and filled with evil . . . and good.

  Angels weren’t just needed in heaven. They needed to be here. Protecting the ones that they loved. Fighting to hold a balance between good and evil on earth.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Jade said and her full lips tilted into a smile, a smile that was echoed in her eyes. “Because following your butt into heaven wouldn’t have been easy.”

  His own eyes widened. Would she have truly—

  Yes. He could see the answer in her gaze. Jade would have gone with him anywhere.

  Fair enough. He would gladly follow her even through the gates of hell.

  “Now I can stop worrying about trying to grow my own wings,” she teased as her arms wrapped around him. “That was not going to be an easy job, let me tell you . . .”

  The sun was rising. The darkness gone at last.

  “You don’t need wings.” Az pulled her closer.

  “Damn right I don’t.” She licked her lips and rose onto her toes. “And neither do you. I want you, I love you, just the way you are.”

  As he bent his head toward her, Az realized that if he had to do it all over again . . .

  He’d fall, in an instant.

  Just to be with her.

  Some things in this world were worth dying for, but there were far more—far more—things that were actually worth living for.

  He’d always live for Jade.

  He kissed her and knew that he was home.