Devil Hath Come (an FBI/Romance Thriller ~book 7)

by Kelley, Morgan

  “Oh, hell no! I know you too well. If I even let that cat out of the bag, you will torture me endlessly.”

  She started laughing. “That’s okay. I know for a fact from personal conversations we’ve had, that you were originally born in California. I’ll just run you in reverse to find out. I have all night.”

  He wasn’t sure if she was bluffing or not.

  “If you’re wondering, I’m not.”

  Chris hated when she just knew. “Fine, but I swear to God, I will tell everyone all your secrets from years ago if you ever bring it up.”

  That the men’s attention.

  Callen leaned forward eagerly. “What kind of secrets are we talking about?”

  Chris went to open his mouth to spill the beans.

  “It’s a deal. I won’t say a word to anyone but the people in this room,” she swore, offering him a fist bump as her oath.

  Both men were disappointed and didn't hold back the groans. They were fascinated with her life when she was a newbie agent.

  He sucked it up and just told them. “My mother named me Orion Leonard. Okay?”

  Elizabeth started giggling. “It’s kind of cute.”

  Chris started laughing. “Great. I just gave the most sadistic woman on the face of the earth information to blackmail me. I am so off my game. This love thing is a mess.”

  Then he did it again.

  Shit!

  There was more laughter. “Chris is in love, Chris is in love,” she chanted like some child.

  “Elizabeth! I didn't even say it to her yet, so don’t you dare!” Now, he had this to worry about too.

  Ethan put his hand over her mouth for the man. “It’s the only way to really get her to stop.”

  “I’ll have to remember that,” he snickered.

  Callen shook his head. “Then we have to kill you for touching her. It’s a catch-twenty two.”

  Chris kept laughing as he headed for the door. “Good night bosses. You’re free to commence debauchery. I’m going to go get dinner.”

  When he was about to close the door, he heard her. “Good night, Orion!”

  He couldn’t help but smile. He really loved his job, and the people that he worked with. Patting his pocket, he realized his keys and wallet were still down in the room. It looked like he was heading there first before grabbing food.

  He was sure that love was the reason his mind was completely a mess, and Chris honestly didn't mind at all.

  At the knock, she was confused. She was just getting out of the shower and dressed. Cyra had given Chris a key to her room, and then it hit her. Maybe his hands were full. He was bringing his clothes and take out back.

  Going to the door, she pulled it open, laughing, only to have the wind knocked out of her as someone took her to the ground. It didn't take her long to realize that it was her partner, and he smelled like booze.

  As his hand went for her breast and he leered in her ear, she knew it was a very bad situation.

  Everything in Cyra screamed one thing.

  FIGHT!

  As she struggled to get away, he pinned her under his body weight. That’s when the fear really began. God, what she wouldn’t do for her gun. His free hand was trying to get her drawstring pajama bottoms down, but she’d been smart enough to tie them.

  “Bitch, I’m going to show you what a real man is like, not that wuss you’re sleeping with,” he growled, right before biting her neck, deep enough to sink his teeth into her skin and leave a mark.

  Cyra tried call for help and fight, but her shouts were muffled when he sealed his mouth over hers to swallow the yell. Tears filled her eyes, as she sent out a silent prayer for Chris to come back and save her.

  Chris whistled all the way to the door and was prepared to knock, when he heard the muffled scream. Everything in him went wild as he pulled out the key to the door and rushed in the room. There on the floor struggling was Cyra, trying to get out from under a man who was trying to violate her.

  He charged, throwing his full body weight on him to get her free. The melee ensued as they crashed into the dresser, and Thomas Rickard was momentarily stunned. Chris punched him first in the face and then gut. Nothing in his life had ever filled him with such anger as watching this man putting his hands on his girlfriend.

  Rage filled him.

  In all his life, he’s never been this ready to take a life so willingly. All it took was Cyra’s life being in danger to draw it to the surface.

  Suddenly, he saw the telltale movement of Rickard’s right arm. It meant only one thing. Noticing Rickard’s gun was free, Chris flinched as the sound of a gunshot filled the room. He knew he needed to keep Cyra safe, and he blocked the man’s arm with his torso.

  Grabbing the man’s head, he slammed it off the dresser.

  Everything momentarily stopped.

  “Cyra, call Ethan,” he muttered, keeping his body over the man so he couldn’t get free. All he could hope was that her partner didn't come to before help arrived. Chris grabbed the gun from Rickard’s limp hand and slid it across the floor and under the bed. Now, it wasn’t easily accessible to either party.

  Cyra tried to keep from breaking down as she did what he asked, praying they’d hurry.

  When Ethan got the call, he wasn’t sure if his agent was kidding or dead serious. “We’ll be right here.”

  Elizabeth jumped up. “What happened?”

  “Agent Rickard didn't head back to FBI West. Instead, he just tried to assault Cyra and Chris is trying to contain him.”

  “Shit!” All that she could picture was her friend being hurt. In a fist fight, she didn't know if he could take a trained agent. “Oh God,” she muttered.

  They raced from the room, barefoot and partially clothed. All that mattered was that they reached their friend to help him out. As they approached the door, people were out in the hall, alerted by the sounds of a gunshot. At the door, Ethan pounded on it with his palm, as he waited for someone to answer.

  “Cyra! Let us in!” yelled Elizabeth.

  The door was wrenched open, and they moved fast. On the floor was Chris, holding down a now struggling man.

  “We got him,” stated Blackhawk, waiting for Chris to get up. “What happened?”

  Elizabeth stared at her ME. His white dress shirt had a large stain of blood on it, and Cyra looked like someone had tried to tear her clothes from her body. They’d come incredibly close on this one.

  “I came down to get my jacket and when I got to the door, I heard her scream. I rushed in to find that bastard attacking her. She was pinned to the floor.”

  Chris moved towards Rickard with deadly intent in his eyes.

  “Bullshit, she wanted it!” The agent struggled to pull away from Callen, who had him in a painful wrist hold.

  Everyone looked at Cyra for her story.

  “I opened the door without looking. I thought it was Chris. He knocked me down and tried to rape me,” her voice cracked. “He bit me,” she pointed at her neck.

  “That’s a lie!”

  “Shut up!” Elizabeth stated. “You think she bit herself on her own damn neck? Get him out of here!”

  “His gun is under the bed,” Chris stated.

  It was the least of Elizabeth’s concerns. Her focus was on her friend and his wound. Without thinking, she was immediately at his side and lifting his shirt. “Ethan, when you come up, bring the first aid kit. Chris has a flesh wound.”

  He nodded as he assisted Callen in dragging their agent away.

  Rickard wouldn’t let it go. “I’ll have all your jobs. I’ll get even if it’s the last thing I ever do!”

  Elizabeth slammed the door behind him. “God, what a moron,” she muttered as she crossed to the bed to retrieve the gun.

  Cyra stood there with her arms across her body. The adrenaline was crashing and she began shaking. When Chris moved towards her, she went into his arms and buried her face in his neck.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. He’s never going to hur
t you again. I promise,” Chris crooned. “You’re safe now.”

  Elizabeth reassuringly patted her agent on the back. “It’s okay, Cyra. You're both pressing charges against him. He could have killed you both. I don’t want to even hear either one of you try to back out of it.”

  She nodded, unwilling to let go of the man holding her.

  At the knock on the door, Elizabeth went to peek out. It was Ethan, holding a first aid kit and a trace kit.

  “Is he handled?” she inquired.

  “Yeah, someone heard the shot and called the cops. I just sent him off with one of Chief Lowry’s officers to dry out in the tank. I’ll call and get him transport in the morning back to FBI West. He’s going to jail for this one.”

  Elizabeth took the one kit. “Ethan, can you do the trace on Cyra and I’ll handle Chris?” she asked, knowing they both needed to get their sides of the story for the official report.

  “Works for me,” Ethan answered.

  She turned towards her ME. “Okay Chris, you need to head into the bathroom and get undressed.”

  “What?” he answered as he stared at her openmouthed.

  She started laughing. “I just wanted to see what it felt like to be the one that didn't have to take my shirt off in front of a room full of people.”

  “I can handle this on my own,” he reassured, as Cyra relentlessly pushed him towards the bathroom.

  When she had heard the gunshot, she was sick to her stomach. The agent in her wanted to help him by getting her gun, but she kept it in the bottom dresser drawer. During the fight, the men were blocking her access. That left Chris on his own, and Cyra had been forced to watch helplessly.

  Elizabeth pulled on a pair of gloves to keep bacteria from the wound. Poking at it, she waited to see if he hissed.

  “Shit! That hurts, Lyzee!”

  The adrenaline was crashing and she could finally laugh about it. Now that she knew her friend was safe, she could find the humor in it all. “See? You always poke at my wounds just like that. I’m just giving you a little taste of your own medicine, my friend.”

  Chris laughed. “You have a horrible bedside manner.”

  “Her ‘in bed’ manner makes up for it,” Ethan said, typing up an email to Gabe before he took care of Cyra.

  “Shut it, Cowboy.”

  He only grinned, as he offered their female agent his hand. They needed to get her official report and swab for trace on that bite wound. “Come with me. We’ll be right in the next room and as soon as we’re done, you can come back in, okay?”

  She turned to watch Chris, not wanting to leave his side.

  “I’m fine. Go ahead, sweetheart.”

  When she was gone, Elizabeth closed the door. She stared into her ME’s eyes and dropped her voice very low, “This could have gone horribly wrong, Christopher! If that gun was turned slightly you would be on your way to the morgue and that would have pissed me off.”

  Didn’t he know it? “I’m well aware.”

  She pulled out the things that she was going to need to clean the wound. “Tell me what happened and do it from the beginning. I need you to be concise and clear, since this is your official report.”

  Chris took a deep breath before beginning. “All I heard was her scream, and it scared me, Lyzee. Then I saw him putting his hands all over her and I completely lost it. I tried to only kick the shit out of him, but he was drunk and mean.”

  Elizabeth put antiseptic on the wound. “I saw his face, you wailed on him pretty good.”

  Chris grinned at that. “Yeah I did. Remember that case we worked together in Baltimore? It was the one where the suspect came after the team and took out two of our techs in front of us?”

  How could she forget? She carried their deaths on her shoulders. When you lost people you were supposed to protect, it stained your soul.

  “You pulled me aside and told me that we were going to the gym. For weeks, you taught me how to protect myself and fight. It seemed to come in handy tonight.”

  Thank God she did.

  “I owe this one to you.”

  She put the bandage and tape over his side. “Friends don’t keep score, Chris, you know that,” she stated as she stood.

  “Thank you, Lyzee.” He hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. “I appreciate that you took the time to make me learn how to protect myself. If you didn't, this wouldn’t have ended this way.”

  When he pulled away, she patted his cheek almost motherly. “I’m glad you feel that way, because I have to send you back to Quantico to re-qualify.”

  He stared at her in shock. “What? Why?” Chris asked incredulously.

  Elizabeth began laughing at the expression on his face. “Yeah, I have no idea. I really just wanted to say it to you for a change.”

  Now, he was laughing with her. “You’re never going to let me forget this either, are you?”

  She shook her head. “Tonight, you got very lucky, Orion. The planets all lined up.”

  “Oh my God! I’m doomed,” he stated, as he fought hard not to laugh.

  “You don’t like that one? How about ‘the stars were in your favor’?” she asked, grinning.

  He shook his head.

  “Twinkle twinkle little star?”

  Chris pushed her out of the bathroom and closed the door. The adrenaline crash was finally starting. He too began laughing, because if he didn't, he would think about what could have happened if he had been five minutes late.

  * * *

  He watched them from the darkness as he hid from the people who had no clue.

  The witches just had their memorial. It was a wake for the coven members in true Goddess fashion.

  Now, they were disbursing and heading to the sanctuary of their homes. Shortly, he would have to make his move.

  Already, he could see the one who he had to have as she walked away from the others. Now, he only needed to wait and snatch her in the darkness.

  The little lamb was coming right to him.

  It was appropriate, since they were much like sheep. They followed their leader and were oblivious that there was a better master to serve. They spoke of light and airy feelings, when what really truly existed was dark, sin, and pain.

  Most of them had no clue, when it came to what was happening all around them. They obliviously moved through life not noticing that the weaker were nothing more than prey.

  They deserved to be picked off by a stronger, more powerful force.

  His dark Lord would show them. He only required two more women, and then Elizabeth Blackhawk would be his.

  The star would be complete.

  Wouldn’t his master be proud?

  He grinned wickedly as the prize was near. The blonde would have no clue what was coming.

  Death was knocking on her door.

  * * *

  After all the paperwork and reports had been filled out, Chris didn't want Cyra to sleep in that room. In fact, he wasn’t too keen on being in there himself.

  They moved all of her things across the hall and decided to call it a night. Chris cleaned her bite mark after it was photographed and swabbed. He knew that those kinds of wounds were the most bacteria filled and infected rather easily. When he was finished, Chris sent her off to shower.

  Cyra was being incredibly quiet and that made him nervous. He never had to face anything like this before, and he was in uncharted land. Sending off a text to Ethan Blackhawk, he asked him what he should do. This was a test if the man really meant what he said about being friends. When he got the answer back, he was relieved. For now he had a plan of action, and that didn't make him feel so out of control.

  Getting undressed, he stripped out of his shirt, jeans and shoes. He was extremely exhausted from the lack of sleep, work, and then the fist fight.

  He started laughing.

  Yeah, his life was an adventure.

  As the water shut off, he waited for her to redress and come out. When the door opened, she didn't look like a tough FBI agent
anymore. Cyra resembled a scared little girl.

  “Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly.

  She couldn’t speak. Everything was replaying over and over again in her mind. Shaking her head, the tears filled her eyes.

  Chris opened his arms, knowing that she was going to need someone to offer her comfort.

  Without even thinking, she crossed the room and climbed onto the bed. The minute his arms pulled her into his body, the tears began their descent.

  “I was so scared, Chris,” she whispered between the sobs.

  He knew how she was feeling. “So was I.”

  Earlier, when he’d told Elizabeth that he loved Cyra, he still wasn’t one hundred percent sure. At that point, he could joke about it, but now he saw the truth.

  It wasn’t lust.

  His emotions weren’t propelled by the sex.

  Chris Leonard was in love.

  As he held her through the emotional storm, he began to make his plans to tell her everything in his heart, so they could start their lives.

  Together.

  * * *

  Standing in the space he had selected, he examined the altar and his handy work. This might be the best one ever. Where the other ones were made of wood and stone, this one was simple and made of nothing more than the earth.

  What better way to send off a woman who believed in the magick of Mother Nature, than to let her blood soak deep into the ground?

  In fact, she was now closer to his master, and he could take her energy right there and then.

  This was perfect.

  Constructing the circle had taken a great deal of salt, but he needed it to be large.

  Not because the sacrifice was bigger, no, but because he wanted to walk around her and take her in from all angles. This one was very attractive, and he was despondent that he couldn’t enjoy her more.

  Yes, he wanted to touch them sexually, but his master didn't want that. No, he wasn’t to have any of them but the final one. He’d known from the start when he saw her on the television that she’d be his last one and final gift. Waiting for her would make it that much better in the end.