Rapid Pulse: A Limited Edition Spicy Romance Collection

by Gina Kincade

  Closing her eyes, this time in regret, she stood outside in her husband’s tunic as people bustled by her. She could hear the sounds of the London morning, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about anything happening around her. She had been unfaithful to her husband, and he had left. What was worse, she had drunk blood and enjoyed it. What manner of a demon did that make her?

  SERAPHINA DRAGGED A long, sharpened nail down the spine of the only Asag Demon to have ever reached their prime. She’d named him Ian. His body twitched under her nail, and she smirked. She’d practically raised the creature, and now he was going to do her bidding. He was perhaps the most loyal demon in Hell.

  “I want you to begin to reign terror on the humans in France. Take as many demons as you need with you, but do not get caught. We are too small in number to seek our revenge, but that does not mean we cannot play with them.

  He nodded eagerly before jumping off the bed where she’d been healing his latest wounds. With a last look at her, he bolted from the room, and she smiled. Nothing had been working in her favor as of late. London seemed to have a protector in Layel. If he would not or could not fall, well, she had to turn her attacks elsewhere if they were to succeed.

  Flashing herself to the dungeons, she appeared just inside the cell of a treacherous Imp. His blue skin was nearly completely peeled off around his hands, exposing bone and black-bloody stumps of muscle around it. Scratches shone an angry black from where her nails had clawed his body. Demon manacles wrapped around its feet, locking them together. Its head lolled at an unflattering angle, his neck wasn’t broken, but there wasn’t much will to survive left in the demon.

  She had seen to that.

  For three days, she had spent more hours in the cell than away from it. The Imp hadn’t expected to be caught, but her spies were everywhere, and he could only deliver messages to the Pure Angels for so long before it was his downfall.

  She took a step closer and viciously kicked her toes into the bottoms of the demon’s three-toed foot. The small creature did not so much as stir. “I can see the rise and fall of your chest. You live,” she growled out.

  The demon did not move, did not so much as open an eye. Anger flared to life, and without thinking, she bent down and snapped the Imp’s neck. It shrieked as she did and then dropped to the floor. She narrowed her eyes at the lifeless body.

  “I remember there were days when demons would take torture, kicking and screaming as they spit their blood in your face.” She sighed wistfully.

  “I believe you have likely destroyed that, My Lady,” Lucius said by way of greeting.

  She turned and found the Nightmare Demon just outside the cell and grinned. He had brought her more souls then. Sauntering over to him, she closed the cell door once she was out. “I take it your return means your assignment was successful?”

  She saw a flash of something, regret perhaps, in his eyes before he spoke. “I have three souls to turn over to you. Three pointless deaths.”

  Lifting a brow, she looked him in his black eyes, “What was that, demon?”

  Lucius paled considerably and leaned back from her. “Nothing.” Reaching out to her with his hand, he clasped his fingers around her forearm. “Flash us, now. If I do not give you what you demand, my body will likely use it all.”

  Without hesitation, she flashed to her bedchambers. Lucius walked to the wall her bed rested against and placed his hand, palm flat, onto it. She couldn’t see anything as he began to siphon the small piece of soul that he owed her, but the wall swirled briefly, and she smiled.

  His penance for sleeping with Arial’s wife was servitude instead of death. She’d bedded the Nightmare Demon and had felt it a shame to kill him, but to appease her warrior, she’d had to do something. Lucius killed for sustenance, like many demons. She demanded a part of each kill. Angels could manipulate souls, it was why she had tried to save Demetrious’. She had no plans for these, it had just seemed a fitting arrangement to know that the humans he killed could never find eternal piece because their souls had been half-devoured by a demon and half- trapped by another.

  Removing his hand from the wall, he turned at looked at her, his black eyes gleaming with annoyance at having to share his energy. “It is done.” Lucius had the common sense to bow respectfully.

  “Thank you. Consider this a small break in your contract. If you were more easily able to infiltrate Angels, I’d never allow this, but every good servant deserves at least a small break.”

  His lips pulled back as if he meant to say something. He did not, merely nodded his head and strode past her.

  Seraphina smiled at nothing in particular. She had fallen so far and risen just as high.

  Chapter Eleven

  Thomas had been staring at the parts invoice for the better part of two hours and still could not focus on them. His mind was reeling from not only seeing the bloody Angel again but also Audrey’s story. He wasn’t certain how he was supposed to feel. He knew that she likely felt compelled to sleep with the Angel, but it didn’t take away the bite of anger. She’d betrayed him and had admitted to enjoying doing it. Most men would have their wives hung by the neck until dead for such an offense. Yet, he could not bring himself to turn her in.

  Honest love had grown betwixt them. He went to bed with her curled in his arms and woke up with her still there, an oddity for many couples. There was no part of him that did not feel her betrayal as anything but a deep knife cut. That didn’t mean he wanted her to die for it. He’d experienced Layel’s compulsion only briefly and had wanted to touch the creature. There is no telling what Audrey’s experience must have been like. Alone, afraid and likely near death after being attacked by bloody demons.

  Would you have done something similar? Are there no other forms of gratitude that would be enough? He’d heard that on occasion, the men of the guard were able to lay with a woman once saving her. It was possible this was the same thing.

  Shaking his head, he rubbed at the back of his neck and rose from the chair. There would be no work done this day, he was lucky he hadn’t stumbled into a pub and drunk himself silly. His life had been nothing short of surreal the past three days, and maybe it would be best if he just wrote it all off as nothing and pretended neither of them knew of demons.

  “Could you do that? Could you hold her in your arms and not imagine her writhing in pleasure beneath Layel?” He didn’t get to answer his own question as a knock sounded on the office door. Sitting back down he tried to gain a measure of composure. “Come in.”

  Jules, the Guild’s newest apprentice, peeked his head around the door as he pushed it open. “My apologies, Sir. I’ve come with a letter bearing the Royal Seal. I was told to deliver it hence and not to delay.” Jules stretched out his hand and passed over a scroll, identical to the one Thomas had received at his home.

  “Bloody fucking hell,” he growled as he took it and dropped it in the waste bucket under his desk.

  “Sir, I do not think it would be wise to ignore King George,” Jules said nervously.

  “Dually noted, Jules. I will be certain it is known that you gave me the summons, and I ignored them. Off with you, surely you have some manner of skill to be working on.”

  Jules nodded his head and left, closing the door behind him.

  Thomas sunk into his chair and let out an exasperated sigh. Sunlight filtered in through the window, and he wondered what it would be like to just enjoy the world, to love his wife and forget anything had happened. While he might not have been able to answer his question moments before, he did want to think on it, if he could.

  “Thomas!” a voice barked loudly.

  Startled, Thomas jumped out of the cushioned chair and looked around his office. Sitting barely three meters away, in the beige wingback chair, was Layel. Without delay, Thomas jerked open the desk drawer, procured the goggles he’d placed in there when he’d arrived and slammed them onto his face so quickly that he scratched himself as he did.

  “Get out.” />
  Layel rose, though his wings were hidden under his shirt, he was still an imposing man. His caramel hair seemed to flow around him as he moved towards the desk. Thomas felt himself shake, with fear or anger, he was not certain.

  “We have a situation on our hands, Thomas. One that starts and ends with your unwillingness to save your species, to save the world.”

  Thomas snorted and pushed backwards in the chair, trying to put some distance between him and the Angel. “My issue starts and ends with you having fucked my wife.” Saying the words aloud was painful, but Thomas did not falter.

  “That is of little consequence.”

  “To who? Certainly not to me. Certainly not to my wife, whom I left in tears as she told me of her transgressions. Do you know what happens to women for dishonoring their husbands?” He was so angry little puffs of air were being pushed out his nose as he spoke.

  “They are put to death,” Layel said plainly.

  Thomas was horrified. The Angel knew and did not care. The sound of blood rushed in his ears, so loudly Thomas cringed. “Get out.” The words were louder than he had intended, and he worried someone would enter to see if he was all right.

  “I will leave once you come to your senses. Your King has requested a service of you. Are you not loyal to your country?”

  “I am loyal to my country, to my wife, to my guild. I am not faithful to a bunch of bloody demons that should not even exist!” His chest rose and fell deeply with his words.

  “The problem with that, Guildmaster, is that we do,” Layel snarled. “You rejected this fight before you knew I had bedded your wife, something of which I do not regret, but I am sorry for. She is a lovely woman, and one I would be glad to call my own if I were human.”

  Thomas practically jumped over the desk, teeth bared as he snapped them at the Angel. His hands wrapped around Layel’s shirt, and he pulled back one hand to punch him. One moment he’d been readying a strike, the next he felt his body sail backwards, slamming so close to the window he nearly shattered it.

  Pain lanced through him and he groaned, trying to push himself up from where he had fallen on the floor. Layel was in front of him before he could do so. His eyes flashed black for a moment, and Thomas swore he saw fangs. His fingers wrapped around the goggles and tore them away before Thomas could even reach up to hold them against his face.

  “This has gone on long enough!” Layel’s voice boomed in the room and shook the small cup of tea on the desk. “While I did not allow you to strike me now, if I allow it, will you reconsider your ridiculous refusal?”

  Thomas stared at him, mouth agape, before letting out a bitter chuckle. “You cannot honestly believe that allowing me to land a few blows will be cause enough for me to endanger my life?”

  Layel’s eyes indeed went black at the words. A fathomless black, devoid of anything akin to emotion. Thomas felt as if the gaze was swallowing him whole, he was overcome with the need to listen to the Angel, to do anything the man asked.

  Layel lifted a hand as if he meant to strike Thomas, but let it drop to his side with a growl. “This is not about just your life. Pure Angels, those of us that have not given into evil, have been fighting the rest of demon kind since your lot was still drawing on cave walls with charcoal. When you help us, you will be gifted with things far beyond your comprehension to aid in your task and keep you as safe as can be.”

  Layel leaned down, right in Thomas’ face. The hot wetness of his breath made Thomas shudder before the Angel spoke again. Thomas knew he should be afraid, but all he could focus on was the beauty of the Angel’s face as his lips moved in speech.

  “Or safer than you are wandering the street not knowing which person you pass is a demon in disguise.” Layel pulled back, grabbed the goggles and gave them to Thomas before walking a few paces away and crossing his arms.

  Quickly, he placed the goggles over his eyes, holding them there. His whole body shook as Layel’s words filtered over him. Were there so many demons in plain sight? Chills erupted, and the air on his arms stood straight up. If being a part of this secret sect was the only way he could keep his family safe, perhaps he had been too hasty. Layel had appeared no less than three times since the offer, and Audrey had been attacked. Perhaps it was time to consider the possibility that his best chance at survival lay with the offer.

  Closing his eyes, he sighed deeply. “I will consider it.” His eyes flicked open to see a satisfied nod from Layel. “I will, however, also take your offer to unleash some frustration on you.”

  This time, Layel did chuckle. “Very well. Tie those goggles properly and secure them, or you’ll wind up attacking yourself to spare me. Not that I’m against such actions, but if this is the only way you will see the light of reason, I am prepared to allow it. What I did to your family was wrong, and I have only not fallen from it because I once led my people. I was so pure, one evil was not enough to drop me down.”

  Thomas took in the power Layel controlled as he tied the goggle strap and fastened them over his eyes. “I want to go somewhere else. My office cannot be destroyed, and I do not want anyone checking in when they hear noises of a struggle.”

  “I can assure you, there will be none, but if that is what you wish.” Layel stepped forwards and wrapped his hand around Thomas’ shoulder.

  One moment, they were inside the room, and the next, in an alley just outside the castle grounds. He let out a low whistle as he spun and looked around. That explained how the Angel came and went so silently, the bloody creature could transport, like magic. That should be the only thing that surprises you in the days to come, you poor sod.

  “When this is all done, remember your end of the bargain. You will allow us to use men from your Guild in our fight against the demons.”

  Thomas nodded his agreement, even if he was still wary of the idea.

  “Thomas, get inside,” there was a deadly note in Layel’s turn.

  “Absolutely not.”

  Layel turned to him, his eyes that deadly black again. “There are Fallen Angels coming. We can sense demons. It’s in our blood to know when others are around. Get inside.” Layel pulled a giant sword from his back.

  Thomas stepped backwards, stunned that he hadn’t realized the Angel had a weapon on him, it must have been concealed somehow. Layel swung his arm, turning the sword upwards and lunged, waiting for the newcomers to appear.

  “If I’m to fight these creatures, these demons, it is time I learn what I am up against,” Thomas said, holding his ground, his expression daring Layel to argue further.

  LAYEL COULD NOT BELIEVE what he was hearing. Not three minutes prior, Thomas was complaining about his own pathetic life, and now, he was standing beside him claiming he wanted to face Fallen. Layel closed his eyes and breathed deeply, the sing of his blood was strong, letting him know demons were near. There was truly no time to argue with the petulant man, and they were practically out in the open. He could hear the bustle of the city just beyond the small alley.

  Reaching into his boot, he grabbed a dagger and tossed it to Thomas. “Always keep one in your boot. You don’t know when or where you’ll run into a demon.”

  Thomas caught it with an expertise Layel hadn’t been expecting. He flicked it into his hand and whirled, placing his back against Layel’s. He was impressed with the human. While he’d expected the chosen guard to have fighting skills, he had never anticipated the man chosen purely for the use of his Guild, would have them as well. Layel was more than a little proud of King George’s choice.

  “Stay close to me, there is no need to be back to back, Fallen can fly.”

  He felt Thomas shutter against him, and they both began to walk towards the mouth of the alley. His eyes grew round with shock when he spotted the three Fallen—a woman and two men that he hadn’t even known had been lost. He whistled a shrill trill that had all three Fallen turning to him.

  “Layel,” Sanriel said, a wicked grin curving her lips. “Seraphina would be proud if we brought ba
ck his head.”

  “Seraphina?” Thomas asked beside him.

  “Remember our first interaction, when I said someone was creating chaos?”

  “I don’t believe we got that far,” Thomas said as he edged back into the alley, away from human eyes.

  “Well, we might have if you did not panic. Seraphina is the woman in charge of demons. Lucifer was real. He is dead. She is the one to worry about now,” Layel said. As he finished his sentence, still holding his sword, he snagged a dagger from his other boot and set it sailing, lodging into one of the men’s shoulders.

  An inhuman howl filled the space, and three sets of glistening, dark black wings unfurled. Layel didn’t know if they would take to the sky, but if they did, humanity was going to learn about them whether he wanted them to or not.

  Sanriel was on him before he had a chance to swing his sword. He crashed into the ground, shocked by the female’s speed. Kicking his knee up, he drove it into her abdomen and released his sword. Bringing his hands up, he wrapped them tightly around her neck. Her blue eyes bulged, but oddly, instead of reaching to remove his hands, she covered hers as far around his throat as she could. He could feel her nails stabbing dangerously into his neck. Aside from that, she was not strong enough to truly block his airflow. He, however, was.

  She must have felt herself dying because she let go of his neck and frantically clawed at his hands. Blood dripped down his arms, but he did not let go. Her legs began to thrash about, and he lost his hold briefly as she kicked him in the inner thigh. When she finally stopped kicking, her eyes closed.

  Tossing her to the side, he grabbed his sword and pushed up. He could hear Thomas and the sound of metal hitting metal. Turning, he was stunned to see that one of the men was on the ground, not dead, but his wings had been cut off. Layel ignored Thomas’ battle and walked next to the Angel.