Angel Bait (Angel Assassins #1)

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Angel Bait (Angel Assassins #1) Page 20

by Tricia Skinner


  Patience. Tonight he expected to be free of his troublesome enemies — and ally.

  Around him, vampire thugs triple checked their weapons, the bricked room engulfed in the pungent aroma of sweat. Saul breathed in deep, filling his lungs to capacity, anticipating the coming bloodshed.

  A dark shadow passed over the second floor windows and disappeared. He rose from his chair. The building’s dual steel doors screeched on dry wheels as they rolled open. His gang froze to a man as Beleth strolled in, his mighty black wings arched behind him.

  Saul tipped his head to his lieutenant. The vampire turned and exited the room.

  “Where is she?”

  “Being retrieved.”

  Beleth raise an eyebrow, then gave the assembled gang a slow, contemplative stare. The angel’s expression was flat and unimpressed. “Is this pathetic show of force on my behalf?”

  Christ. Saul wanted to gut the bastard. The guy had guts — and massive balls — to act so superior on his turf. Saul forced a smile to his lips. “I believe in taking precautions. Detroit’s a city where the weak are killed and eaten.”

  Beleth rolled his eyes. “The weak populate all cities on this forsaken planet. Only Heaven is immune.”

  Low grumbling erupted around the room. Saul hid his smirk. If the fly boy wasn’t careful, Beleth would get to demonstrate weakness with his body riddled with bullets.

  “Get your hands off me!”

  Every head turned to see Saul’s prize shoved into view. Ionie’s hair tangled over her shoulders, highlighting her exotic face. The trembling girl was history, replaced by an ill-tempered beauty he wanted to sink into with more than his fangs. Saul stole a glance at the angel.

  Beleth stood as rigid as a plank. Saul wished he’d hurry and confirm Ionie’s angelic connection and get rid of her.

  “Call off your dog, or I’ll rip his face off!”

  Saul grinned at Ionie’s display of temper. Fiery, tough, and unfazed by the presence of his men or the black-winged devil.

  Utterly delightful. “You’re sexy when you’re angry, but mind your manners. You wouldn’t want my partner to get the wrong first impression.”

  “Like I give a shit,” she said, casting daggers of hate at the angel.

  Beleth returned her scorn with a lopsided smile. He stepped towards the woman and studied her. Saul waited, curious to know what the angel planned. The Renegade stretched out his arm. A tendril of light spun from his fingertips and into the Ionie’s chest. She cried out.

  “Where did you find her?” Beleth asked.

  “Does it matter? She’s the one you want.”

  “Yes, she is. See how my Grace recognizes her?” The angel cupped Ionie’s chin, lifting her face. “Your mother was easy to find, but you eluded me.”

  “Wha-what about my mother?”

  The unpracticed smile widened on Beleth’s face. “When I found her, she still lived. She asked for you.”

  What was this shit? Saul stepped closer.

  “You’re the angel people saw.” Ionie’s skin turned ashen, like coal left to burn too long. “Did you try to help her?”

  Beleth’s shoulders shook with his laugh. “Why would I do that? The bullets did my job for me. Those were dangerous times. I didn’t confirm your existence until long after I went back into hiding.”

  The Renegade peeked over his shoulder. Saul read the calculating set in his sinister eyes. “The last time we spoke, she was under protection. How is she now here, and where are the half-breeds?”

  Good question. Oren should have delivered the message by now, yet there was no sign of the assassins. Saul stole a glance at the two vampires guarding the front entrance. Each shook his head. Annoyed, Saul forced himself to face facts: his revenge on Jarrid had slipped away. That weasel snitch likely fled the city instead of doing as ordered.

  “We took care of them,” Saul said.

  “I’m to believe a ragtag bunch of blood drinkers managed to kill an elite team of assassins,” Beleth said.

  Saul’s temper rose and his fangs elongate. The constant insults spewed by the angel grated on every nerve in his body until he wanted to rip his jugular out. Maybe he should. He could still achieve his end goals without Beleth’s angel army — it would only take longer.

  Before he could test his theory, a loud explosion blew the factory’s steel doors off their hinges.

  • • •

  The Eternal Order swarmed into the former bread factory, guns in each hand, the moment Nestaron blew the doors. Acrid smoke plumed and swirled around the shell-shocked vampire gang. Jarrid reached inward and freed his Grace. White cold energy soared through him.

  The first gunshots rang out. He pushed his power outward to pulse around the other nephilim. As long as they remained within range, he could shield them. Bullets fired from all angles and slammed into the invisible wall, only to stop and fall like pebbles. He raised his guns.

  “Jarrid!”

  Ionie’s cry came from a far corner. He uttered a low curse. To get to her, he’d have to unprotect his team.

  “Get her the hell out of here,” Cain yelled. “We’ve got this.”

  In one smooth burst, the assassin sprinted from Jarrid, unsheathing his daggers in a graceful slide. Three vamps were on Cain before he could yell a warning.

  He didn’t need to. The lethal blades sliced two thugs at the waist. The third, terror struck, fell with a choked off cry in his throat.

  Cain focused on that vamp. “Shoot yourself.”

  Unable to break from Cain’s mind control, the vampire raised his handgun in trembling hands, turned the cylinder to his forehead, and pulled the trigger.

  • • •

  Around Jarrid, his brothers squared off against waves of bloodsuckers.

  Nestaron launched himself over a crate, his arms outstretched like he could fly. He curled into his landing, but at the last moment, the rust-haired assassin thrust his hands out at a cornered group, and opened his mouth. The deep sound resonated in Jarrid’s head, though he fought on the other side of the room. The vamps caught in Nesty’s sonic boom weren’t as lucky. The five screamed, dropping their weapons when they tried to cover their ears.

  Jarrid turned away. He’d seen his brother’s power before.

  Must feel like a bitch when your bones exploded inside your body.

  Another vamp fired at Jarrid, emptying an entire clip into the shield. Two shots from his beloved guns dropped the guy flat. Without breaking his momentum, he scanned the room for Ionie.

  Where were Saul and Beleth? If the cowards had her, they had better start praying.

  He swung his fist into another thug, cratering the man’s face.

  No one will keep me from her.

  “Looking for me?”

  Jarrid spun. A blast of enormous energy shattered his shield. The force drove him high into the air until he careened into sea of dead bodies. His vision sputtered in black and white flashes. He hurt all over.

  He leaned against the floor, desperate for his legs to work. The blast hadn’t come from Saul. Only one person would dare …

  He struggled to his feet. A pair of strong hands slipped under his arms, aiding him.

  “Son of a bitch,” Cain said, gripping Jarrid’s arm. “You need to diet.”

  Bile rose in Jarrid’s throat at the sight of Beleth standing like a fallen god across the room. The angel’s eyes glowed with indescribable power and obsidian wings hung from the Renegade’s back like an eclipse. Jarrid had once heard wings were connected to Heaven and turned black when removed from angelic purity. Now he believed it.

  Beleth was as far from pure as an angel got.

  “Don’t tell me this is the infamous Order,” the outlaw said, studying each of their faces. “Where is Tanis? Still licking t
he wounds I gave him?”

  Saul moved forward and shoved Ionie to the ground. Jarrid growled. Every bruise she suffered would be paid back in kind. He took a step forward only to be restrained by Kas.

  “Not yet, bro. Keep it together a little longer.”

  Easy for him to say. That wasn’t his woman being manhandled by a lunatic. Jarrid nodded his understanding. He trusted his brothers with his life — and Ionie.

  “Looks like we’re at an impasse,” Saul said. “I have the human prize and a full-blooded angel on my side.” The vamp’s lips curved into a sneer. “What do you have, Jarrid? Three half-powered boy scouts. I win.”

  “Your dog likes to bark,” Cain said, his attention on Beleth.

  “Does he do tricks, too?” Kas asked.

  Amusement faded from Beleth’s face. He broke his glare to stare down at Ionie. Jarrid saw her short intakes of breath and knew she was in trouble, the proximity to the Renegade a danger.

  “Give her to me and I’ll give you a one-hour window before I hunt you down,” Jarrid said.

  Ionie lifted her sweat-soaked head. He stiffened to see silver opaqueness covered her once dark-brown eyes. How much time she had left, he couldn’t guess.

  “Christ’s blood,” Nesty said. His brother had arrived at the same conclusion.

  She would die if they didn’t get her away from Beleth. Jarrid dipped his head. He never expected to feel anything like love. Now he was close to losing it.

  No goddamned way. He loved her and would rather be dead than live another day without her by his side.

  “Why don’t we move this drama along?” Saul said. “I hate long goodbyes.”

  The vampire sank his knife into Ionie’s prone back. Her eyes flared for a second, then closed as she crumpled.

  “No!” Jarrid roared his anguished cry, exploding what was left of the factory’s windows.

  The Eternal Order surged forward.

  Beleth raised his hands, manifesting a ball of heated energy. He launched the sphere at the brothers, but Jarrid raised his shield a second before it struck.

  The impact sent him flying backward. His Grace shuddered inside him, weakened by the second encounter with full angel power. He coughed, surprised to taste blood.

  Shit. One more hit and he’d be history.

  Jarrid tried to stand, gripping a wall for balance. He fought to stay vertical. He focused on the scene. Horror swept over him.

  His brothers took on Beleth with every ounce of their souls.

  And they were losing.

  Blood dripped from Cain’s ears, nose, and mouth as he tried to control the Renegade’s mind.

  Please, God. If Cain could twist the bastard’s thoughts, Beleth could be made to kill himself. The Renegade staggered under the assassin’s power.

  Hope surged in Jarrid’s chest. Then Cain fell to his knees, gripped his head, and released an agonizing scream.

  No! His brothers were not going down. Jarrid struggled to stand.

  Not like this.

  Nestaron thrashed on the floor next to Cain, his skin flushed bright red as he tore at his throat. Beleth was suffocating him. Without his voice, the assassin couldn’t use his resonance.

  Dizziness nearly sank Jarrid. He heaved his faltering power at Nesty and Cain, projecting a wall of ice around his stricken brothers. Nesty gasped out loud, sucking oxygen into his starved lungs. Cain fell to his back, moaning.

  “Beleth!”

  The Renegade turned his glowing eyes on Kas. The assassin unloaded a barrage of gunfire at the enemy before he hauled ass towards Beleth, his body a battering ram. The two rolled across the floor, fists flying. Nesty rose to help, but another gunshot rang out. The bullets clipped his brother’s legs and chest, dropping him.

  Jarrid’s disbelief gave way to uncontrolled rage when he spotted Saul. The vamp changed clips. Jarrid stalked closer. Debilitating heat continued to ring his Grace, weakening him. It didn’t matter.

  He didn’t need angel juice.

  He’d shred the murderous bloodsucker with his bare hands.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  A half-breed gripped Beleth’s throat in both hands, squeezing.

  Two down. He lost sight of the one called Jarrid, but he bet the assassin headed for Saul.

  Served the mongrel right.

  Searing pain tore through Beleth. His current enemy yanked on his wings, determined to rip them from his back. He toppled the assassin, giving him a knee the gut for his trouble.

  “I’m going to burn you to ash,” Beleth said, coughing. The pain was acute, but he’d grown use to suffering. Earth was an endless purgatory. Unsteady, he forced his legs to hold his weight.

  “We finish this now,” Kas said.

  Beleth peered over his shoulder. The nephilim’s eyes followed his line of sight. The Order — his family — lay broken around them.

  Beleth smiled, triumphant. “You’ve failed. They’ve burned out their pittance of Grace and will soon die without it. No being can live without a soul, even abominations of nature.”

  “We abominations were made by assholes like you who couldn’t keep their dicks in their robes.”

  Beleth shrugged, then winced. His face wrinkled at the blood oozing from bullet wounds the half-breed had inflicted.

  Never doubt an assassin to hit his mark. “The woman is dead. All that’s left is for me to finish you and reclaim my place as Heaven’s General.”

  The nephilim laughed, though it cost him. His left arm hung crooked against his shoulder. “Oh, you think the Directorate will welcome you once they learn about the innocent lives you snuffed? Doubt it. Your former friends enjoy being seen as the good guys. You, asshole, are bad for public relations.”

  Fighting the assassins, and the bullet wounds lodged in his body, left Beleth weak. If he remained, he might not have enough power to kill the last one. He reached out. His power rushed through his body like a volcanic eruption. Heat burned in his veins. His body became engulfed in a living white-blue fire.

  The woman. She could renew him. His Grace remained within her.

  Raw power slammed into his chest. Beleth howled and flew back into a wall. He tore his gaze from Kas.

  His heart skipped several beats. He’d forgotten the other assassins! Beleth tried to summon his reflective shield, but he was too late. One of the abominations was in his mind.

  Crippling pain weighed on his soul as Nestaron’s voice tore pieces inside him apart. He was too weak to push the intruder out.

  In a vivid moment, Beleth, former general of Heaven’s Army, felt fear.

  • • •

  Ionie sensed heat nearby, but she also felt cold. Her body was an icebox, freezing her limbs to the hard floor. The heat compelled her to open her eyes and find it. She blinked, certain what she saw was a terrible hallucination.

  Deja vu.

  Bodies lay everywhere. Dozens of bleeding corpses, some still clasping weapons. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sounds came out. Her fingers scraped concrete when she tried to raise her hand.

  A glaring light across the room drew her gaze. Three spheres clashed, illuminating the factory in the brightest glow she’d ever seen. Squinting, she made out the outline of wings — dark and imposing. The other figures … Oh shit, Cain, Nesty, and Kas were fighting Beleth.

  The heat inside her doubled in intensity, causing spots to appear behind her eyes. The pull was stronger when she looked at the warring enemies. Her soul wanted to join the cyclone of fire. Deep down, she trembled, knowing it belonged to the enemy. She closed her eyes tight, praying the pulses would cease.

  Ionie opened her eyes. Jarrid, her love, prowled behind Saul. The usual shimmer in his eyes was diminished, like a low phone battery, and he bled from more holes than she could count. She mouthed
his name, but he didn’t stop.

  The heat called to her like a distress beacon. Her whole body cried for it, begging her to move closer. One touch, that’s all she wanted. She looked up in time to see Saul spin, his gun pointed at Jarrid, who cried out and launched himself at the vampire.

  The gun discharged several times, bullets drilling into her lover’s torso. His body shook from the volley. Jarrid stood there, motionless, then collapsed in a bloody heap.

  Something inside her snapped. Her body drowned in heat, infusing her with strength. Wild power, untrained and kindled by fiery vengeance, burned away the cold that had settled in her. She pulled herself up, meeting Saul’s surprised eyes.

  “For JP,” she said in a voice so unlike her normal one.

  She raised her hand, the fingers spread wide, and she pushed.

  The vampire’s skin crackled and fire ignited his clothes and hair. Saul screamed, his body consumed. He flung himself down, rolling to extinguish the torch he’d become.

  He failed. Ionie made sure of it.

  Welts blossomed across Saul’s exposed flesh, then burst, releasing black blood to trail down his body. Ionie stared into his cavernous red eyes until they liquefied and oozed out the sockets.

  His cries stopped, but hers started. Ionie screamed, the power inside building. Her legs wouldn’t obey. She walked toward the three fighters, drawn to the Renegade’s heat, unable to stop.

  The nephilim barely held on against Beleth. She plodded closer, but the outlaw raised his arm. The Renegade was on his knees, his body surrounded by a flickering white-blue fire.

  Beleth, the angel who’d destroyed her life, gave her a wicked smile. He may be injured, but his power was stronger.

  An army of moths fluttered in her gut. She had no idea how to control the thing inside her, but Beleth did. One look at the angel confirmed her dread.

  He would make her kill her friends.

  • • •

  Jarrid clutched his dagger, his reflexes primed, ready to wipe out the threat to Ionie. Moving hurt like a bitch. He assessed his injuries with a quick pat to his torso.

  Three broken ribs. He rolled to the less crackly side of his body then shifted his legs until he was more or less vertical.

 

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