by Gina Kincade
I trail off and Isaac shakes his head. “It was my fault,” he admits. “I shouldn’t have done anything. I knew better.”
“Friends?” I offer and he gives me that gorgeous smile.
“Of course,” he agrees, stepping in to give me a hug. His arms are warm and comforting when he wraps them around me, and I can still feel that tickle of attraction between us, even though we both know nothing is going to happen. Isaac holds me longer than he should, tilting his head into my neck and smelling it. “God,” he groans. “You smell amazing after sex. Lucky bastard.”
I pull back and glare at him pointedly, to which he just shrugs. “Hey, can’t fight your nature,” he explains, releasing me. “And bonus, now I know exactly how you sound when you come.” He nods to my room, where Dom is sleeping, and a hot flush heats my cheeks.
“You could hear—”
Isaac shakes his head with faux innocence. “Yeah, quiet is not really your forte.”
“Oh jeez! I can’t believe—I’m so embarrassed!”
Only Isaac smiles sweetly, as if this is just another tiny thing he and I get to share.
“Like I said, Dom’s a lucky bastard,” he says.
Our eyes connect and there’s a comfort between us, but there’s also a charge under it. It’s as if we both know how close we came to happening, so the only way for us to deal with it is for him to point out every awkward thing in the most overtly sexual way he can.
“You are a trouble maker,” I say, and he lifts his hands.
“Guilty as charged.” He smiles, laughing, before leaning in to kiss my cheek. He hovers over my skin longer than he should, that tiny spark of attraction still flaring, but somehow less charged. It’s as if we’re tied together by something else, by how close this came to being a disaster for both of us. “And uh ...” he says cheekily, breaking the moment. “Now I have some dirty audio to remember you by.”
I slap his shoulder as he pulls back laughing. “Don’t ever tell that to Dom!”
He nods and smiles.
There’s a sparkle in his eye as he steps back to pick up his luggage. He walks past me and I watch him open the suite door and walk out into the main corridor. He turns back before the door shuts and looks at me one more time.
“It’s been a pleasure, Ilsa,” he says. “And, I want to make sure you understand. Dom’s my friend. I know it doesn’t seem that way with how I acted, but the truth is he’s one of the best guys in the world. And I’m really glad you’re the one who’s going to make him realize just how great he is.”
I’m stunned to hear him say that and he nods like I better remember it. I step forward to tell him there’s someone out there waiting for him, someone perfect, but he winks and shuts the door before I can say anything. I stare at the closed door and know he’s not the kind of man who needs to hear something like that. I have no doubt Isaac will walk fearlessly into his life ready for the adventure, and there’s a woman out there somewhere—someone far more adventurous than me—who will brave that wildness with him.
My adventure is lying naked in the next room. He comes in business formal, with a briefcase and a brilliant mind, and the ability to leave my skin bruised with the smell of him.
And tomorrow, my adventure will take me home.
The End
About the Author:
Elle Berlin loves writing smart, sexy stories that get your pule racing. High-Rise Heat is her first novella, but not her last. She’s new to erotic romance genre, but not new to writing, having traditionally published novels in other markets. Elle recently fell in love with the romance genre and now she can’t wait for her characters to start making out. When not writing, you can find Elle sipping wine, doing yoga, hiking, rocking out to Taylor Swift, and binge-watching Game of Thrones.
Where to find more of Elle Berlin:
Elle Berlin’s Smart n’ Sexy Reader Group: bit.ly/ElleBerlinNewsletter
Get your pulse racing as part of Elle Berlin's smart n’ sexy reader group. Never miss a new release, learn about hot hot hot giveaways, and satiate all your book boyfriend desires.
Welcome to the fun!
Connect on Social Media:
Instagram: @elleberlinauthor
Facebook: @elleberlinauthor
Twitter: @elle_berlin
Pinterest: @elleberlin
Website: https://elleberlinblog.wordpress.com/
Rise of Silver & Steam by Lexi Ostrow
Copyright © 2015 Lexi Ostrow All rights reserved.
Edited by CLS Editing
Cover Art by Bliss Creations
DEAR READER,
It is important to notate that, in actual history, Big Ben was a construct on paper in the early 1830s. Construction did not begin until May 31, 1859. For the purposes of this series, history has been altered in traditional steampunk fashion, and also by creating Big Ben nearly thirty years prior. I hope you'll enjoy such an alternate timeline, and for more information on the amazing Big Ben in history, click here.
xoxo,
Lexi
Thomas Agardawes has a bride that resists him, and a job that he doesn't like. When a Royal approaches him on only his third day as a master at the Clockworker's Guild, his life is turned upside down. Demons lurk in the underground and he has been assigned the task of leading the force against evil.
Seraphina has torn her wings from her body to save a lover's soul, but he spurns her. Revenge blossoms, and she plots to make Hell her own and force humans to pay for what they took from her. Nothing will stop her, and her corruption runs soul deep.
Layel, a Pure Angel, has fallen for a human, and it's almost cost him his wings. That is not the hardest task to face. He must convince a man to run a secret group to hunt demons as they've come out of Hell to hunt the humans. If he succeeds, he will then need to train them all.
Three souls that couldn't be more different collide in unexpected ways as the Alliance of Silver and Steam is born, and the secrets of demons unleashed on the world. See what caused the silver to melt and the steam to rise.
Chapter One
1627
Demetrious’ lips pressed firmly against hers. Seraphina’s whole body heated, despite the battle that was raging around them. A blood link could do that to a Pure Angel, but so could love. What they shared was both. When he pulled back, the rainy London weather hit her lips, and she missed his warmth immediately.
“Be safe,” he whispered in her ear before turning to face the others. “The mission is the same. Protect the humans. They have no idea what has started this row. In and out. No humans hurt.”
She watched as he turned on his final word, and moved silently into the tavern with three other Pure Angels. Seraphina focused on him and felt him through their blood link. She could feel it as he burst through the wooden door, as if she had splintered the wood herself. Closing her eyes, she gave a small nod and wished the quartet luck. Protecting humans was rarely dangerous with their strength, but she hated being separated from him.
“You heard the commander. We know our orders, and the Incubus demons will be the hardest. Do not draw blood until you see their eyes go black or feel their persuasion. However, the Apostos demons that are in the area will be more dangerous. Kill them before they blind you,” Layel, Demetrious’ second, said with as much authority as Demetrious’ voice had held moments before.
Layel’s wings were perhaps the whitest she had even seen, and as they shimmered in the rain, she couldn’t help but wonder what the humans would think if they ever saw them. Would they know of the beauty and serenity held within? There were no traces of darkness within Layel, and most Pure Angels desired him, humans likely would as well. He was untouchable, though. She’d never seen him look at any Angel, male or female. He was all battle, all protection.
Walking slowly around the corner, there was no sign of the inky-dark Apostos Demons. They were demons of darkness, able to blind prey with their inner light, and then feast on them, body and soul.
She shuddered a
s she felt Demetrious kill an Incubus through their link. It was time for their portion of the sect to protect the streets. She grinned at his triumph as if it were her own. It was, in a sense. Any time a battle group protected humans, it was a victory, no matter who had done the work.
She blinked and realized that Muriel and Layel were already walking around the side of the tavern. Her hand slipped easily around the angelic metal blade, and she locked eyes with the two Angels that were to hunt with her.
They didn’t get to say anything.
Without warning, six Apostos were in their path. One’s eyes began to open, and she saw a spear sink into its chest. Layel’s spear. The warrior rarely used daggers or his physic gifts, and to an extent, she was amazed at his skill in battle where the rest relied on their demon talents. He was a champion with his spear and blades, though.
Seraphina slammed her dagger into the Apostos demon’s chest. Light flared out of its eyes, and all traces of life slipped away. The wind whipped her hair in her eyes, and she fluttered her wings to pull the long red strands away.
“Seraphina!”
Layel growled from behind her, and she opened her eyes. She hadn’t even realized they’d returned while she fought. Blood trailed over his chin, and Muriel had plenty matting her fair hair. She looked down at her own hands and saw the dark blood of her own kill, and her lips curved into a wicked grin—both she and Demetrious were succeeding.
“There will be time for your celebrations later. This night will end soon, and we cannot be caught in daylight where human eyes will, without a doubt, see our wings.”
She rolled her eyes at him and turned to throw a dagger into the chest of an Incubus Demon rounding the corner on their group. “Layel, it is a battle, it is us protecting our charges. Surely, even you can find some joy in triumphs.”
The words were no sooner out of her mouth than a shrill scream followed them. Seraphina whipped her head to the left and stood horrified as an Apostos Demon sucked the soul from Samuel’s body. Like a bolt, she lunged and slammed her dagger between the creature’s shoulder blades. Her eyes slammed closed to avoid the blinding white light as the demon died. When she opened them, Samuel was still.
“Leave him. There is no time,” Muriel’s voice screamed through the rain and wind.
Blinking away her rage, Seraphina dropped her dagger. Eyes landing on an Incubus Demon, she inhaled deeply, daring its toxic scent to try to muddle her mind. Twisting her wrist, she curled her finger in the air, and then flicked her hand. The Incubus Demon lifted and connected with the tavern wall. He growled and attempted to stand, but Seraphina was faster, angrier. Her nails sunk into the demon’s chest, sending blood trickling over her hand in a stream, and the monster’s howl into the night. She shuddered as her nails squished into the Incubus’s heart, and the creature stopped fighting altogether.
Screams were breaking through the stormy night. Human screams.
Seraphina tugged her hand out of the Incubus Demon and tried to ignore the suctioning sensation as it freed from the dead demon’s chest. All around them, humans had piled out of the eatery. Many looked too drunk to understand, a few stood in awe, but the majority shouted obscenities and raced towards them.
“Kill them!”
“Angels aren’t real!“
“Destroy the evil!”
The humans’ shouts, sadly, were not swallowed by the dreary weather, and Seraphina sighed as she turned and sent an Apostos Demon backwards with a kick to its midsection. She heard a gurgled cry and saw Muriel behead the creature from the corner of her eye. Another cry tore from the humans gathered, despite them having seen that what was murdered was not human or even animal. Their anger was tangible, shimmering in the air around her.
Humans were supposed to fall into an obedient trance around all Angels. It would seem that when something, such as rain impeded their vision, they were able to maintain their wits. How has this never occurred before? Seraphina thought as she rolled the blade in her hands, not knowing what steps to take.
“No one is to harm anyone.” Demetrious’ dark form passed through the hole in the building. His wings were unfurled, a glorious light, so different from the Apostos, seemed to radiate off of them. “We have come to help. You have had true evil amongst you this eve. We—”
Demetrious did not get to finish. A human had lunged forwards and sunk a broken ale bottle deep into her love’s abdomen. She watched, horrified, as her lover doubled over in pain, blood beginning to expel from the wound. All at once, chaos erupted. Two more humans stepped forwards, and she saw them drive their knives into Demetrious, into his stomach and chest.
Her body pitched forwards to the ground as the link they shared flared with Demetrious’ injuries. Convulsions wracked through her body, and she hadn’t realized she’d fallen to the road until her head slammed forcefully into it. As quickly as the assault had started, it stopped.
Pain, terror and anger exploded forth into the dirt as comprehension dawned on Seraphina. Her fangs extended, and her eyes would have been a deadly black if she’d been able to see herself in a looking glass.
Dead.
Demetrious is dead. The thought was the final thing she comprehended. Suffering unlike anything she had ever felt tore through her body, like shears through cloth, and she struggled to push herself up. A severed blood link was oft debilitating, and she could feel her body trembling, could feel the haze of darkness settling over her as her mind and body tried to cope with the loss.
“Not just yet,” her voice was scratchy and almost inaudible. She preferred it that way. It meant the humans had no idea what was coming for them. “I am done protecting you!” she screamed into the rain and wind, so loudly her throat went raw.
Then she attacked.
LAYEL LET OUT THE BREATH he’d been holding. His head spun from the chaos and terror around them. Slowly, his eyes scanned the dirt path and took in the blood, death and horror they had all created. That Seraphina had almost single-handedly created. There was no way to clean up what had been done though, not until she had been seen too.
The rain had stopped. The battle had ended. Yet, the problem had just begun.
“Hold her down! Be careful not to harm her,” he shouted at the Angel closest to him, Muriel.
Without a word, the blonde took a step closer to the curled form lying in a pool of ichor. Layel watched as Muriel slowly reached her fingers towards Seraphina’s back and rested them betwixt her shoulders.
Seraphina didn’t move. Layel took a step closer to the two female Angels. Seraphina could be in a state of shock. Layel had never been blood bonded and hadn’t felt a stirring of anything moments ago as he’d been otherwise engaged with an Incubus, but her agonized cry of Demetrious’ name made it simple to deduce what had occurred. Their leader, Seraphina’s lover, had either been dealt a blow or was dead. They had all shared a tasting of each other’s blood, to link them for strength, but it would not have been enough to alert them all to a lost life. It would have, however, been overwhelming for Seraphina.
He’d ignored the Incubus he’d been battling at the time Seraphina had made the sound and had been stabbed himself before Muriel had killed the creature. His ichor was running dangerously into the dirt, but he couldn’t force himself to care.
Layel had been too late, too slow, to stop Seraphina. He wasn’t even sure he’d wanted too as he’d comprehended how foolish the humans had been. However, with her manslaughter done, with the damage done, he wished he’d forced himself to intervene. The bodies on the ground would forever mark Seraphina as near Fallen, but they would mark his soul as well. She had done so with just cause, and he would not fall because of that.
“Do not place your hands on me,” Seraphina’s voice was quiet as she spoke into the bloodied ground.
“Seraphina, please rise. We are concerned.” Layel tried to keep his voice as level as possible, but his own emotions ran wild with the knowledge of how many humans had just been slaughtered.
“
I said do not place your hands on me!” Seraphina snarled and whipped her head back to look at them, causing Muriel to step backwards.
There was a craze in her eyes. One Layel had never seen the likes of before, though it was akin to the look of a human or demon under a blood craze. Her lids were opened so wide, he could imagine how badly the blowing wind was hurting her. Yet, tears did not fall, and she did not flinch. Her eyes remained as they were, and Layel shuddered. Back and forth her eyes twitched, side-to-side in such a quick motion, Layel found himself unnerved by the action. Seraphina's upper lip was tugged back. Her fangs still showed, and Layel could see the blood splatters from the humans she had just murdered against her face and her teeth.
Ignoring her warning, he reached towards her once more. Pain raced through his hand as her fangs pierced the flesh, dead in the center of his palm. His own eyes flashed a deadly black, showing the demon he truly was. Without thought, he struck her cheek. He was far stronger than her on any day, but she was crippled by grief and madness, and his blow sent Seraphina tumbling backwards. She tipped arse over tit and lay sprawled on her back, staring up at the sky.
She made no sound or attempt to pick herself up. Layel sucked in a deep breath through his nose and moved to bend down beside her. Their eyes locked, and in hers, he saw pain and madness. A madness he feared would consume her if he did not act. Being blood bonded oft did not go well for both parties, and in that moment, he knew that Demetrious was truly gone and Seraphina was standing on a cliff’s edge— staring into the abyss.
Ichor was the only solution.
Layel had never partaken in a blood bond, he’d never wanted too. However, if Seraphina were not immediately linked to someone else, they would lose her to death, or worse, to Hell. Without thinking, he shifted his weight and dropped to the ground beside Seraphina. His fingers trailed over her chin in a manner that might have been deemed sensual had they been lovers. However, it had merely been concern.