Unholy Proposal (Unholy Inc Book 1)

by Misty Dietz

  Snarling.

  She screamed as the nearest figure leaned closer, opening his mouth on a lusty inhale as though inhaling her sound.

  No, it’s your fear. Goddammit, Jessica, run!

  The moment she bolted sideways, Asmodeus fell to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs—Nate! Get away!—and something warm swooped down from the sky and carried her skyward.

  Chapter 28

  Jessie screamed and struggled against the arms that held her close when they landed on the large, flat top of the Basilica’s portico. The arms that pinned her weren’t a man’s if he could fly, but he was taking the shape of one. That included the enormous erection pressed against her bottom. “Please, let me go,” she whispered, eyes widening at the Marilyn Monroe breathless quality of her voice. Oh, he smelled divine. She shivered and half-clawed, half-pulled the arms tighter around her. What the hell?

  “Halt your fightin’, lass, and enjoy the show. It’s not often we get front row seats to a beat-down between a Guardian and a Hell Prince.” He spun her around to smile into her eyes. “And it’s all for you, my sweet. How important you must be, no?”

  Lachlan. His name filtered through her consciousness. Her knees softened, and she wanted nothing more than to melt into him. Her hand lifted to trace that stubbled, square jaw, the soft, full pads of his lips that were descending—

  BOOM!

  A blast of energy ripped Jessie from Lachlan’s hold, hurling her spread-eagled against the Basilica’s round, stained-glass window before she plummeted back down onto the platform. Pain washed through her shoulder, but her head was now clear of the sex demon’s influence. Lachlan rolled his neck and stepped toward her. She dug inside her pocket, uncovered the flask, and flung a stream of holy water on the incubus. Lachlan bellowed in a voice that seemed to come from the pits of Hell. Then he vanished. She exhaled, shaking all over. Now what? If she jumped from here, she’d either break her neck on the concrete steps or…

  Oh Lord, oh shit, oh heavens.

  …expose herself to the growing number of black-eyed demons gathering around on the lawn below. Dorian and Jawahar fought back to back with ninja-style precision, but there were so many. Nate was shredding Asmodeus’ chest with a weapon she’d never seen before. Looked like two crescent blades tied together so there were four points. Nate sliced several more horrible cuts, blood spurting everywhere. Then he looked up, locked eyes with her, and then at the tree nearest the steps. Before she could tell him to watch out, the tree stretched its branches toward the platform where she stood and Asmodeus rolled sideways, wrapping Nate’s legs in his own, slamming him back to the ground.

  “Nate!”

  Use the tree. Get ins—

  The crunch of bone and the slippery sound of blood. Jessie’s gorge rose and tears blurred her vision. Hurry. He’d left himself vulnerable to move the tree for her. The least she could do was keep it together and get inside the church.

  She brushed at her eyes, picked out the widest branch, and bent down on her hands and knees to distribute her weight. She closed her eyes as she moved onto the branch, then started breathing again when it held her. Quickly she maneuvered her way down the tree, dropping to the concrete steps when she was close enough.

  Right in front of a pair of black, soulless eyes.

  The demon raised a blade with a snarl, but before she could reach for her holy water, his head went sailing sideways.

  “You’re welcome, my darling.” Lachlan grabbed her before she could scream, bringing his lips to hers forcefully. She beat and scratched and pushed at him until she forgot why she was fighting. No fighting. More kissing. A warm hunger. The sounds of fighting and horror faded. A tender hand at her breast, kneading.

  Jessie, no! You’re mine!

  A roar in her head. She started to draw back from the powerful body that held her close.

  Jessie! The voice, louder in her head, but distracted. Fight…fight for us.

  She shook her head, the cool night air caressing her skin when firm hands pushed her sweatshirt up, a man on his knees, his tongue laving her belly. She frowned and brought a hand up to caress the golden head.

  Gold hair.

  Not Nate’s.

  Sex demon, Jess! Fight him with the rosary—

  She stumbled back with a gasp, her head fuzzy, so terribly disoriented. Like trying to see through the windshield at night during a driving rainstorm. She fell as though in slow motion, twisting away from the large hands that reached for her. Pain bursting as her skin peeled on contact with the concrete.

  White hot pain ripped away the confusion.

  “Stay away from me, you devil!” She scrambled toward the door of the church. Lachlan grabbed her ankles and pulled her away from the church. Her breath came hard and fast as he pushed her back to crawl on top of her. He smiled, and he was so beautiful. Don’t look at him. She didn’t know what to do.

  Nate and the archdemon were making sounds that would never leave her head.

  Lachlan trailed a hand down her cheek. “I’ll take you away from here and give you the best night of your life. But first, you have to look at me, my sweet.”

  She couldn’t help the moan that slipped from her lips at his husky voice. His evil touch. She needed to do something before he completely fried her brain again. But what? Her body went soft as his hands cupped her breasts, the rosary sliding across her heated skin…

  The rosary! Her eyes opened. “You will never know how to kiss like Nate.”

  Lachlan smiled arrogantly. As he leaned down to kiss her, she shoved the crucifix against the side of his throat. He seized, then began to quake violently, his skin sizzling, flashing red and blue as his screams echoed off the church doors. She pushed out from under him as another white-blue blast of energy heaved everything every which way, shoving her to her knees. She shook her head, glancing to where Nate now tottered, bloody, unsteady on his feet in a shallow crater.

  Alone.

  Where the hell was the archdemon? Even Lachlan had suddenly disappeared.

  “Jessie, get up, move!”

  She got to her feet, glancing toward the vicious sounds to her right. The tree she’d shimmied down earlier bent again, its branches spiraling around three demons who ran toward her. Nate launched himself at her attackers, his crescent blades raised overhead. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe as he beheaded the demons with three furious swipes. Filled with raw power, he didn’t even look like himself anymore. He was almost as scary as those he’d vanquished. Her legs wobbled, her head pounded even though the demons—all of them—were gone.

  She backed away from Nate. “You f-fight as viciously as they do.”

  “Stop being a child. What do you think this is? A polite debate among dinner guests? These bloody demons will suck out your soul while they watch the light die from your eyes. After that they’ll leave your carcass for wild animals to fight over for their nightly entertainment. If you give quarter to a demon, you won’t have the chance to fight the next one.”

  “Did you kill the archdemon?”

  “They cannot be permanently erased, only sent back to Hell. But no, I didn’t do that either. He’s just playing with me. He—and the rest of his horde—will be back.” Nate brushed his bloody blades on the side of his pants. “This is war in all its horrific reality, Jessica. Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  With that stinging rejoinder, he turned and walked toward Jawahar, his blades glinting as his arms swung at his sides. She would have never guessed demon blood would be red. Shouldn’t it be black or at least something other than the color of human blood? She was trying to make sense of something that she would probably never understand. Meanwhile the man who’d saved her was walking away, and her heart felt like it was drowning. Something was crushing her chest. She wanted to cry and the tears were right there, but she couldn’t let them fall. She couldn’t let him get away because what if…

  “Nate!” Don’t leave me.

  He stopped and turned to look a
t her. His eyes were different than they’d been this morning. Everything about him communicated distance. “I won’t let harm befall you.” His voice was slightly less distant, but still husky-harsh from the recent violence.

  She pressed her hands together under her chin, her lips beginning to wobble. “I don’t know how to do any of this.”

  He didn’t say anything, just shifted both blades to one hand, then raised the other one to her, his eyes still bright with battle adrenaline.

  She should run away. He was scary on so many levels. And it seemed like he was pulling away emotionally, even as that hand beckoned her closer.

  Run.

  She ran. To him.

  It would probably be the worst decision of her life.

  Chapter 29

  Nate held Jessie close to his body as they teleported, but he released the backs of Jaws and Dorian’s shirts as soon as they were safely inside TERRA. Easing Jessie into a warm bath was his last mission before he’d allow himself to collapse. He’d nearly run dry streaming the four of them at one time after going head to head with the likes of Asmodeus.

  He’d nearly lost.

  If Jaws hadn’t lobbed that second demon cocktail of holy water, chrism oil, and communion wine at Asmodeus, Nate wasn’t sure he’d be standing here right now.

  It shook him. As a Guardian, he’d never come that close to the end of it all.

  And with Jessie’s life at stake—hell, the whole world at stake if the archangel wasn’t lying—this was horrific news.

  Dorian groaned and rolled to his back on the dance floor beside Jaws. “Dude, thanks for the lift, but tough landing, bro.”

  Nate left them lying there and lifted Jessie into his arms. Her rhythmic sniffles chiseled his heart into slivers. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck as he shushed into her hair, carrying her upstairs into the bathroom of their loft. He turned on a dim light, set her down on the bench by the tub, and bent to remove her boots, not trusting himself to look her in the eye. He didn’t know how to face her accusation that he was as brutal as the evil he battled. Was afraid to show her how weak he felt and how distracted he was by her mere presence.

  He was coming to need her.

  He helped her stand, then peeled her olive cargo pants down her legs. His hands shook as they lifted to the hem of the sweatshirt Jinx had left for Jessie, along with enough practical clothes to see Jessie through the next millennium. She needed him strong, and he needed to recharge. But he couldn’t make love to her after what she’d been through. If he could get her washed up, remove that sex demon’s scent from her skin maybe he wouldn’t feel so crazed.

  The demon had touched her. Kissed her.

  Licked her.

  His pulse rocketed, remembering it. Reliving the awful rage and helplessness he’d felt for those horrible moments when he’d grappled with Asmodeus, knowing he couldn’t help Jess. How long would it take Lachlan to heal and come back for round three?

  How long would it take Asmodeus?

  Even when—if—he somehow managed to overcome the archdemon, his compar’s life would always be in danger if he kept her with him. Those were the facts. His life revolved around demons.

  How could he do that to her? He didn’t even deserve her.

  He turned on the shower, raked the sweatshirt over her head roughly, and pushed her under the shower spray. When his gaze finally met hers, her wide, wet eyes instantly quenched his fury, leaving a liquid sense of lamentation. She wrapped her arms around her body protectively, and he wanted to die.

  “I’m s-sorry,” she rasped.

  His throat squeezed painfully. He hadn’t protected her from any of this, and now he’d made her think he was angry with her. He stepped into the shower fully clothed and pulled her into his arms as her tears finally came in earnest. No, he didn’t deserve her. How could she fit into his world? He could only imagine how she felt. The violence she’d seen. The abject terror of learning that monsters and demons actually existed.

  And that they wanted to possess her. Hurt her.

  The water sluiced down their faces as he kissed her eyes, her temples, the high cheekbones he loved. Her lips. The warm, cleansing water washed away the blood. Washed away the incubus’s scent from her bruised skin. “Forgive me, Jess. Forgive me.”

  Steam rolled between them as tears ran down her face. “Scourge ran away. And my grandparents…”

  He framed her pale face with his hands. “Animal spirits are too good, too pure to be possessed. Besides that, I’ve never met a wilier dog than The Scourge. He’ll hide out until we find him. And as long as Walt and Tillie haven’t ventured out, they’ll be safe. I set heavy protection wards.” And Asmodeus didn’t know anything about them yet. He hoped. “At first light of dawn, I’ll take you to them, and then we’ll track down your scrappy pooch. The demons get way more pleasure terrorizing humans than animals, okay?”

  She nodded slowly. “Okay. I was worried for you.”

  “You think to protect me?”

  “You mock my concern.”

  “No. It’s only that…” No one has ever cared. Truly cared. “I’m the Guardian, the one who protects.”

  Her eyes took on a faraway look that he didn’t like. “Why is this happening?”

  He paused for a moment, deciding how much to say. She deserved the truth. And as he knew very well—for better or worse—knowledge was power. “The demons are looking for a relic.”

  Her eyes cleared. “A relic you guard.”

  He nodded. She was so damn smart. “Long before time began, God ordered Archangel Michael to escort Lucifer to Hell for his insurrection. Angels who’d followed Lucifer’s rebellion became known as The Fallen. Their ranks form different classes of demons who wreck havoc on humanity when they have the opportunity to escape Hell and come to Earth. In addition to watching over humans, Guardians across the globe protect religious artifacts that embody divine power. Lucifer covets these holy objects because they are the keys to releasing him from his cage once and for all.”

  Nate held both of her hands, watching her carefully as she processed everything.

  “Is he—this Asmodeus—really Lucifer’s child?”

  “Afraid so. Satan compels succubus women to visit his cage, then he rapes them to produce heirs,” he said.

  “Heirs for what purpose, though? Doesn’t he want to rule Hell all by himself?”

  “Indeed. But since his blood runs through the archdemons, they have a measure of his power, and he has some manner of control over them. They are the perfect lieutenants for his army. There’s no way he can win against his brother and sister archangels without a lot of backup.”

  “Sister archangels?”

  He shrugged. “The Bible was written in patriarchal times. There are a lot of accounts that aren’t completely accurate.”

  She rubbed tired eyes. “Tell me more about your family. I know you lost a brother. Did you have other siblings?”

  He tensed, though he understood that she was only trying to make sense out of senselessness. He stepped out of the shower, heedless of the puddles he left on the floor. He turned on the tub faucet, adjusting the temperature exactly how she liked it. He stared at the rapidly filling basin, not really seeing the water.

  He knew different types of pain by color. A hard kick to his guts usually produced a blinding white, made all the worse by the endless hunger that twisted inside him like a living thing.

  Black had always been the tormented, awful sounds he’d heard when his father slipped behind the curtain on his sisters’ side of the room late at night. Black.

  Black.

  Black.

  He’d been shocked that his father hadn’t bled black when Nate had finally found the courage to put an end to those noises.

  He flinched when Jessie’s hand touched his shoulder.

  “Let’s get you soaking, and then into bed for a long overdue rest,” he said.

  Her gaze ran over his wet clothes, her eyes unguarded. “Join me.�
�� He was about to refuse, but she unhooked her bra and peeled off her underwear. “You’re hurt. Let me help you heal.”

  His throat dried. She was so lovely. His gaze traced the feminine lines of her face down her neck to her shoulders, the defined clavicle that was such a work of art, the heavy, more-than-a-handful breasts, and her soft belly where he could almost imagine his chil—

  He shook his head, the pain in his groin from the wet, constricting pants almost a welcome distraction from the impossible direction of his thoughts. “You’ve been through so much today, I cannot.”

  “This isn’t about taking advantage of me. I will ask more questions later. But I need you right now, Nate. I think we need each other.”

  He peeled the wet clothes from his body, too weak to think them off, then brought her naked skin to his. He stepped into the tub, then lifted a hand to her. Wasn’t much he’d ever been afraid of. But the thought of losing her turned his insides ice cold.

  Their mouths met as their bodies joined. Jessie’s back arched, her hair trailing in the water as she settled down around him. She rolled and swiveled her hips, riding him slow and purposefully. Like she meant it. He’d never met anyone like her. Good to her core. She was drawing him there—to her center—and keeping him, binding him, without even knowing it.

  He would learn to pray. Learn to pray for the strength to let her go so she could be safe.

  Nate’s hands slicked up her belly to cup her breasts, mesmerized at the way they moved. Gentle little jostles, so different from when his thrusting hunger made them bounce, yet no less erotic. When he leaned down to tongue her nipples, she moaned. He gritted his teeth, nearly losing his control at the carnal sound. She began to move faster. He shifted his hips so she could grind herself harder at the base of his pelvis. Water sloshed over the sides of the tub. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, her breath quickened. His hands came up to fist in her wet hair. Her silver blue eyes met his. He saw himself in them. Felt a belonging.