by TW Knight
It was as much a plea as a command.
Bass was so hot and hard, he thought he would explode with need for the woman in his arms. This was so new and exciting— and frightening —he'd never needed to be with someone for the sake of being in their presence. With Bree, being in the same room filled him with a storming emotions ranging from possessiveness and hunger to peace and clarity.
Sliding his hands down to her ass, Bass lifted. Bree wrapped her legs around his hips, placing his throbbing cock right against her entrance. He moaned against her lips, her wet heat against him intoxicating.
Turning, he carried her to the pool and set Bree in the steaming water. She was shorter than he thought, the water coming up to cover her perfect breasts.
"Well, now that's a problem," Bass muttered, removing her bra.
"What?"
"I might just drown getting to my favorite part of you," he answered, pulling her close for another mind numbing kiss. "Then again," he mumbled against her lips. "It might be worth it." He vanished below the surface with a smile.
Bree trembled beneath his touch as he trailed kisses up her thighs. Afraid she might sink beneath the water, Bass reappeared, tossing her panties to the side.
Her heated gaze undid him.
Lifting Bree, he entered her in one smooth thrust. "Oh, yeah. You feel so good," he whispered against her neck as she moved against him.
With each thrust, they bobbed, the heated water caressing their sensitive bodies. When Bass backed into the wall, he wrapped one arm around Bree's waist and used the other to leverage them onto a boulder sitting just below the surface. As he positioned Bree's legs on either side of his hips, she arched back. Her hair fanned out in the water.
***
Bree felt as though her very being floated along with her body. Every nerve ending came alive with fire as her orgasm grew. Bass' urgency built with each thrust. Bree's climax overtook her as if lightning pierced her soul. Gasping, she pulled herself forward to ride out the waves of pleasure in Bass' arms.
***
Bass reveled in Bree tightening around him. Her heat set him ablaze. His climax raced through his body. When she screamed, it took him a heartbeat to realize it was from fear not ecstasy. In the next breath, he was fully transformed into his demon and shoving Bree away from him, his wings fanning out to provide a protective barrier. He didn't sense any danger, but he didn't doubt Bree's instincts.
When she came up sputtering, Bass grabbed Bree and pulled her to him. "What was it, babe? What scared you?"
Bree struggled for air, pointing at an overhang on the cliff side above them. "It—it— wings—sword—big," she stuttered.
Bass swung around, but there was nothing behind him. "What did you see," he asked, returning his attention to Bree and reigning in his demon.
Gasping, she shouted, "I saw an angel."
Chapter Thirty-Two
Bree shivered despite the humid air, and it had nothing to do with the wet bra and panties in her back pocket. Bass' eyes when she'd said she'd seen an angel set ice to her soul. It wasn't anger in his gaze, it was fear.
Bass hustled her from the pool so quickly and back toward the manor, she'd barely had a minute to pull on her shirt and jeans. He, of course, didn't mind rushing through the woods completely naked. The moment they reach the foyer of the villa, Bass gave her a quick kiss then flashed upstairs to get some clothes. Bree only waited a minute before he returned wearing a low slung pair of jeans and carrying a hoodie which he wrapped around her, adding a kiss on top of her head.
Pulling Bree into a protective embrace, he whispered, "We need to talk to Kaz. Now."
Bree nodded, numb to everything but her warrior's touch. She needed her arrogant bastard back. She needed him to yell, to challenge the angel, do something, anything to show he wasn't afraid because his fear echoed through Bree with every breath.
***
Bass stroked the back of Bree's hand with his thumb as she once again described what she saw back at the pool.
"I'm telling you." She huffed, blowing a strand of drying hair from her eyes. "It was an angel. Like Biblical warrior angel, not messenger of God angel."
Kaz snorted. "Sometimes they're the same thing."
"Fine. Whatever." She pulled away from Bass and threw her hands in the air.
Cassidy tossed a balled-up paper at the big warrior and glared before turning her attention to her friend. "What made you think warrior?"
"Oh, maybe because he looked like an extra from Spartacus. You know, old school. Breast plate, leather skirt thing, boots, big sword, looked like a gladiator with white wings and he glowed." She shivered. "Pervert was watching us."
Bass looped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, his forehead against her temple. He wanted to apologize for not protecting her. For exposing her to danger. Hell, he wanted to find the feathered bastard and rip his wings off. Instead, he turned to Kaz and asked, "Why is the barrier failing? First Lucifer gets in and now one of them." He spat on the last word pointing upward with his middle finger.
"We're still trying to figure that out, Bass," Rail answered. "I'm convinced it has to do with whatever outlet Lil-it was using to pass on information about us to her master last year. What has me confused is every test we do on the barrier comes back that it's strong and stable. No holes, no weak spots, no fluctuations."
"Test it again," Bass snapped. "Did you think maybe it's you and Cassidy—"
"Back off." Rail stood, placing his hands on the table and leaned forward. "Don't you think we're all just a little concerned about this?"
Bass saw the reflection of light cast by his glowing eyes on the polished wood table. He’d ’s seen Rail and Boomer— even Tam —go ballistic, hyper-alpha-male when it came to their women, but never expected he would lose control among his friends. Then again he never thought he’d have someone in his life like Bree. "I know. I know. We all have someone to protect." He took a deep breath. "But that bastard was too damn close. Close enough to kill us."
"But he didn't, so it wasn't an attack." Kaz leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking.
"A warning?"
"Maybe. Did he say or do anything?"
Bree closed her eyes. "I'm not sure, but I could have sworn..."
"What, babe?" Bass took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to face him. "What is it?"
She blushed. "When we were, well, there was a minute right before I saw him when I— I... God, this is embarrassing."
"There's no one else here but me. You can tell me anything."
Leaning in, Bree whispered, "When we came— you know, together —it felt like I'd been struck by lightning, and that's when— I swear I heard someone say, Damn it, when I opened my eyes and saw him."
Bass rolled her words around in his head a minute before he exploded. "Damn it? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Setting Bree back, he pushed out of his chair and paced around the conference room. "Was he pissed we were together? Seriously, if I catch that bastard—"
"Bass, please."
Bree's voice echoed in the distance, calling to him from somewhere in the red fog filling his thoughts. The scent of her fear filled his nostrils and flooded his brain.
The rage flooding him rolled away like a wave returning to the sea. Bree stood in front of him crying.
"Oh, baby." He slid his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her head. "I'm sorry I scared you. It just made me so mad." He let out a breathy laugh. "I got pissed at him for scaring you, and then I scared you. Not much better, am I?"
"You're way better," Bree mumbled against his chest, sending little pleasure vibrations through him, igniting his possessive-protective-lusty instinct again.
"You good?"
Bass lifted his eyes to find Rail and Kaz positioned on the other side of the table between him and Cassidy, ready to take him down. Hard. Cassidy on the other hand appeared more perturbed than frightened standing with her fists braced on her hips.
How close to transforming had he been?
"Could we open a window and let some of this demon-laden testosterone out and get back to the problem of our unexpected visitor?" Cassidy shoved her way through her muscled protective wall and took a seat. Neither male said a word, although Rail did roll his eyes when he returned to his chair.
Bass laughed and rained kisses over Bree's face.
***
Bree stalked around her room, a caged animal ready to claw herself out. Once the other warriors were called into the meeting, she and Cassidy retreated, leaving them to talk things over. Cassidy excused herself to confer with the other soul-keepers, leaving Bree to rest per Bass' orders.
Problem was, Bree was too keyed up to relax. She took a hot shower and changed into comfy shorts and one of Bass' soft cotton tee shirts, tried three times to start a book, and even attempted to look at what she needed to study for her mid-term.
What she needed was to punch something.
Sam would understand. Sam would let her punch him. But Sam, freed from the infirmary two days earlier, was avoiding her.
"Damn him."
Finally reaching her bullshit limit for the day, Bree trudged downstairs to locate her brother after finding his room empty. To her surprise, she found Hogart in the media room yelling at futuristic warriors shooting everything in their path in some ruined city on another planet.
"I thought you would be in the meeting with the others," she said, flopping on the couch next to the big man.
He shrugged and cursed when an armored character on the big screen exploded.
"Sorry." Bree moved to leave. "I distracted you—"
"Pah." Hogart tapped the pause button and set the controller to the side. "Sam introduced me to this game last night. Interesting concept, practicing battle this way, but not nearly as much fun as the real thing."
"Wait, the two of you are talking?" Bree cursed and punched a throw pillow.
Letting out a long breath, Hogart scrubbed a hand over his goatee. "He's still avoiding you?"
"Apparently." Bree closed her eyes and let out a slow breath.
"Your brother has issues."
"Don't we all?" Folding her arms over her chest, Bree sank back into the cushions. "Sorry. That was rude."
The warrior chuckled. "Not so much, I think. As you said, we all have issues."
"I'm afraid for him, Hogart. He's been through so much."
"As have you."
"Yes, but I had him with me. Always. We could be angry and fighting and still have each other's back. He's never shut me out like this before."
"Give him a few more days. He's still hurting. Blaming himself for not being stronger, for not resisting the dark influence. For hurting you. If he doesn't come around, I'll dangle him off the edge of the North cliff until he gets his head out of his ass."
"Hogart!" Bree burst into laughter. When she calmed down, she leaned over his lap and snatched the game controller. "I'll show you a better way to put Sam in his place. I know all his moves."
"You're on."
Two hours later, Bree was glad she'd stumbled across the big man. He wasn't nearly as scary as he'd always appeared in the past. He cleaned up well. In fact, he was a tad sexy. Especially when he smiled and his tattoo wasn't visible. The bird still freaked her out.
The video game helped keep her mind off her brother, Bass, and the intruder.
"Can I ask you something?" Bree inquired, never taking her eyes off the virtual battle raging in front of them.
"Ask."
"Your tattoo." She indicated his face. "How long have you had it?"
Hogart's thumb slipped from the controller and his avatar took a nose dive off a building. "That is an odd question, little sister." He gave her a sideways look.
"Bass mentioned he had to have his tattoos redone because they would fade away." Bree twisted in her seat to face him, the game forgotten.
"This interests you why?" The warrior arched a silver eyebrow.
"I'm not sure. I just feel there's something important to it."
"Three, four thousand years ago," he answered warily. "A holy man in the Northland did it."
"Did you ask for the bird?"
"It was the time of Odin. I asked for a symbol of power so people would remember the old ways." He ran his fingers over the inked feathers running back into his hair. "I did not realize it would be permanent. I expected it to fade just as other markings faded."
"I'll have to talk to the others, find out if over the years they had any of their tattoos updated by holy men, shamans, priests or whoever before they met Zach and his magic ink." She ran her hands through her hair. "And if any of them turned out to be permanent."
"I'm sure that there have been humans who discovered the magic formula of the inks over the ages." The big warrior shrugged. "Shamans would consider it a sacred gift from the gods and a way to mark themselves with powerful spells."
"That makes sense. But..." Her thoughts drifted. "I know you guys had direct contact with the ancient humans, what about the angels who replaced you?"
"Fewer powers and less influence over man. They were more like guiding spirits than teachers. Only under orders were they to reveal themselves to designated humans. Think of them as Muses." He tilted his head to the side. "What are you thinking, little sister?"
"Could someone have remained hidden from the Hierarchy, teaching the humans true magic after all the angels got yanked back to Heaven?"
Hogart rubbed his goatee. "You mean one of the guiding spirits? Doubtful, but not impossible. The knowledge was to be stripped from all who possessed it. But, what is the saying? Someone could have slipped through the cracks."
"Invisible spirits!" Bree's jumped in her seat. "Bass said the shaman who did his back piece was directed by spirits; they told him to give him the dragon. Bass needed it."
"A spirit instructed the Northman to do this." Hogart touched the raven's profile again.
"Okay, if the spirits were angel guides or whatever, why were they concerned with what images you got?"
"Human belief has power, gives power. It is the basis for all religions and Gods. Perhaps these images were to help us in our battle against the demons. To give us power. That was the origin of marking one's body. Symbols of power and enhancement as well as commemoration." Hogart's eyes glowed. He growled. "I see your mind, little sister. You think they marked us for Lucifer." He stated it as a fact, not a question.
Bree shivered. "Not necessarily. Although Zach said some of the tattoos he's seen on the demons were relatively new and mixed with symbols he thought were banned a long time ago. Old Arcane symbols, he called them. But as you said, others could have learned the magic without intervention and this could have nothing to do with Lucifer or the other angels." She chewed her lower lip. "I don't know where I'm going with this, and I'm giving myself a headache." It was like the answer was just out of reach.
"Too much thinking. Go rest."
Bree puffed an errant strand of hair from her eyes. "I should be studying. I've only got two days 'til my exam and it's already been postponed once."
"I understand that your education is important to you, but are you learning anything from these classes that we cannot teach you here?"
"Yes."
"That would be?"
"A different way to think." When she stood, Bree smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Besides, I'm not a quitter."
Hogart watched her leave with a smile. "No, little sister, you are a fighter."
Chapter Thirty-Three
"There you are."
Bree yelped. Spinning, she punched her brother in the chest. "Damn it, Sam! I've been looking for you everywhere."
"I guess we just missed each other," he said, avoiding her gaze.
"For two days? That's the excuse you're going to go with?" Bree crossed her arms and canted her hip to the side. "Really?"
"Well..." Sam rubbed his chest. "I'm sorry. I deserved that. But I just didn't know what to s
ay to you."
"In the infirmary, I know you didn't hear me, but—"
"I heard you."
"You did?" She punched him again. "You were faking being unconscious?"
"Would you stop hitting me?" Sam walked away, heading for the front door. At the threshold, he stopped. "Walk with me?"
Bree let out a long breath to release her frustration and joined her brother. Wrapping her arms around his left arm, she leaned into his shoulder. With a skip, she lifted her right foot and used her heel to kick him in the ass.
They didn't say another word for almost a half hour, but Bree didn't care. She was just happy to have her brother back.
When Sam did speak, he was so quiet, Bree wasn't sure she'd heard him. "What?"
"I said that I liked it."
"I don't understand." Bree swallowed the acid crawling up her throat, afraid she did understand.
"I couldn't face you because I was ashamed."
Bree stopped walking and took a step back, releasing his arm. "Are you saying you liked trying to kill me?"
"No! No. God that's not what— I liked the power, not what I did to you. The anger. The rage. It was like a drug. It made me feel free."
***
Sam watched his sister's expressions shifted like an abstract painting. Her emotions morphing between horror and disbelief. How could he explain it? "If it had been anyone else, I think I would have kept going. It felt like something broke inside." He rubbed his sternum. "I was running wild, you know. Like a rollercoaster with no breaks. Then everything changed. Something grabbed me, pulled me back. Something, I don't know, showed me what I was doing. Like looking in one of those carnival mirrors, all twisted and distorted." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "When I realized it was you I was trying to kill, I fought the rage. That's why I've been staying away from you. That feeling is still there. It's like a hunger gnawing at me. Pushing me. It wants me to fight. Fight everyone. I feel like I'm going to explode. I'm afraid I'll hurt you."