“I trust him with my life!” She shoved him backwards and darted around the couch to put it between them. “You don’t know anything about us, so why don’t you keep your mouth shut?”
His smile widened as if he found her amusing. “Temper, temper.” He circled the couch, a predator stalking his dinner. “It must be hard trying to fit into his world after growing up so . . . Well, there’s no nice way to describe your pathetic life, is there? Poor little girl with a dead whore for a mother and the ultimate deadbeat father. Shuffled from one foster home to another. No one loved the ugly little girl, did they?”
She was so shocked, she could only gape. Words wouldn’t come no matter how hard she grappled for a stinging comeback. To add to her mortification, angry tears sprung to her eyes. He was getting off on hurting her. She wasn’t there to entertain him. She wasn’t there to wait on him hand and foot. He was using the safe house, but that didn’t mean he had the right to mess with her! She’d been nothing but kind to him, especially since knowing he’d lost his wings. It was a horrible blow and she knew it was tearing him apart inside. Dec should’ve left him to rot in that stupid park. But nooooo. He had to be a friggin’ hero. As usual. With no thoughts at all about how this asshole would disrupt their lives. Well, she wasn’t going to stand for this. She’d talk to Dec—no, make that she’d demand that Dec—get rid of this monster as soon as he got up. In fact, she’d just go wake him the fuck up right now. Why did he get to sleep?
Af’s cold chuckle interrupted her internal tirade with the force of a bucket of ice water over her head. She glanced up to find him staring at her as he absently stroked the shimmering red and black tat on his chest. He traced the infinity loops with the tip of his finger and laughed even harder when she practically lunged at him.
“What?” she hissed.
“You’re almost pretty when you’re in a rage.” He winked at her. The monster actually winked! “No wait. My bad.” He peered closer as if he were giving it serious thought. Picking her apart like a dissected frog, he finally wrinkled his nose in disdain and said, “Not quite.”
It was too much. “You asshole!” The bubbling anger she’d kept locked down erupted and she hurled a stone coaster at his head. He ducked it easily and walked off, leaving her standing there fuming and wanting to murder him, or anyone for that matter, who got too close.
As luck would have it, that someone turned out to be Dec, about two minutes after Af sauntered back to his room. She was still plotting messy ways to cut off his head when Dec came in with Loki hot on his heels. The pooch headed straight to the doors to go pee. She nearly yanked them off their hinges.
Dec’s eyebrows nearly hit the top of his head when Rori jerked the doors open and practically drop-kicked the poor puppy outside. Sensing the danger, Loki swung his ass to the left nearly crab walking through the doors. With a confused glance over his shoulder, he skipped over to the fake grass and watered it while watching Rori for signs of attack.
He knew the feeling. Geez. What was up with her? She didn’t even say good morning, and she seemed to be grinding her teeth. “Is something wrong, love?”
Her head whipped around so fast he was surprised it didn’t fly right off. Her lovely cheetah eyes nailed him to the wall. Um, right. Had he done something wrong? Backpedaling mentally, he replayed everything he’d said or done in the past 24 hours, and then did it again in case he’d missed a clue someplace along the way. They’d made love slowly and thoroughly last night, not once but twice, before drifting to sleep in each other’s arms. Scratching his chin, he studied the stiff set of her shoulders some more. He’d been Orgasm King last night. She had no reason to be cranky. Did she? Did she expect more? They could go back to bed if that’s what she wanted. He was game.
As if reading his mind, she demanded, “Do you think I’m beautiful?”
“Beyond belief. Why?”
And more teeth grinding.
What the hell had he missed? Moving closer, he decided to nut up and gather her into his arms. When she didn’t knee him in the balls or punch him, he took a risk and tipped her chin up so he could kiss her pouty mouth. Gently and tentatively, lest she bite him, he brushed his lips over hers. At first she stayed rigid, but in a second or so she curled her tight body to his. He thumbed her lower lip and teased her mouth open for a long, lingering kiss that should convince her that she was more than beautiful. She was breathtaking. She was a siren he’d never resist. How could she doubt herself?
Just to be sure she got the message, he pressed her back against the wall and feathered his knuckles along the side of her lovely face. “You are more than beautiful, my angel.” Her eyes fluttered closed at his touch. “You are breathtaking.” He trailed his mouth over her temples, burying his nose in her hair. “Shall I tell you what I think?”
With head tilted back, she gave him full access to her throat as she softened and opened herself up to him. The more he touched her, the more she melted. Her breath came in shallow pants, her breasts brushing his bare chest as she struggled to breathe.
“Tell me.” Her words were more thought than sound as her head rested against the wall, her body no longer strong enough to hold it up as desire swept through her veins. He smoothed one palm over her breast, cupping it, cradling it as the priceless treasure it was. Her nipple hardened with his attention but he only stroked it softly.
Not in a hurry, he continued to caress her face, kissing the tip of her pert nose. “Your nose is adorable. Perfectly tipped. Sculpted like a Roman goddess.” Next he traced her cheekbones with his mouth, breathing in the spicy fragrance that clung to her skin. “And these cheekbones. Good God, woman. They beg for kisses. Especially when you’re flushing so sweetly.”
Her lush mouth parted for his tongue and he kissed her lazily, taking his time to tease and tempt until she arched her back to be closer to him. Releasing her breast, he slowly dragged his palm down the curve of her waist to grip her hip.
“Open your eyes and look at me, Rori.” When she did, her clear bourbon irises sparkled in the pale morning sunlight. Her thick black lashes framed the most mesmerizing eyes he’d ever seen on any creature. Her eyes clung to his with longing and hope shining in their depths. God help him. He was so lost in her. He held her gaze before lowering his mouth to her ear. “Your eyes swallow me whole. When you look at me, I am lost.”
Her breath hitched and a single tear slipped down her cheek. “I love you so much.” Her thickened words slammed into him with the same force they always did. Her love humbled him; brought him to his knees with the force of the joy in his heart.
Still moving as if she would shatter, he gathered her closer, crushing her breasts to his chest, clutching her ass with both hands, and sliding her over his erection until her breathing turned to moans. She clutched his face between her palms and slammed his mouth over hers.
When they finally came up for air, he was so hard his only focus was throwing her to the floor and making her scream out his name. Instead of going all caveman though, he locked his eyes to hers and vowed, “You are my Heaven. There is nothing more beautiful than that. Don’t doubt yourself. Ever. Got it?”
She nodded with that sexy, dazed half-smile she got when she was really turned on. Her hands roamed along his waist, dipping into his shorts to stroke him. Her fingers wrapped around his shaft until he sucked air through his teeth and arched into her touch. She whispered “I’m so in love with you right now,” as her palm and fingers worked magic on his cock.
Sucking in another breath, he closed his eyes and pushed against her hand, loving the feel of her gentle torture, “Only now?”
Suddenly serious, she used her other hand to stroke his jaw and pressed a kiss over his heart. “Every second of every day. Always.”
“Well, isn’t this charming?”
They froze at the smartass comment from the dick in the kitchen. Af poured himself some orange juice and waved the glass in their direction. “Don’t stop on my account. I like to watch.” He adjus
ted a bulge in his shorts and smirked. “Let me know if you need any help. I haven’t heard Rori screaming at night, so I’m willing to offer some tips.”
Rori yanked her hand out of Dec’s shorts like it was on fire.
Before he could get a word out, Af offered, “Or I could just take care of her for you since you don’t have the cajones to do it right. She’s not even cute, but hey, she’s already juicy and ready to go. I’ll just keep my eyes shut.”
He was choking the shit out of Af before he even knew what he was doing. The roaring in his ears drowned out the rest of the world. He was going to rip this prick apart with his bare hands.
Af drove his knee into his gut and used that distraction to loosen Dec’s grip long enough to breathe. With a great lungful of air, he threw Dec against the marble island, pinned him in place with a forearm across his windpipe, and snarled, “You want to kill me? Give it your best shot.”
“You got it.” With that, he slammed his forehead into Af’s face and plowed him into the opposite counter. Glasses went flying; dishes crashed to the floor. Loki howled.
Af might be bigger than he, but Dec was supercharged with a fury he’d never known. How dare this douchebag talk about Rori like that? She’s a good woman. Kind, considerate . . . His fist slammed into Af’s jaw, once, twice, and once more for good measure. Selfless, giving . . . Af’s head snapped back with each blow until his eyes rolled back in his head and his hands fell to his side.
Hauling him upright for a little nose-to-nose, Dec demanded, “You done yet?”
In response, Af gazed at him with a hint of a smile twisting his bloody mouth. His chuckle was barely audible, but it raised the hair on the back of Dec’s neck. His swollen eyelids fluttered and he whispered, “Bravo.”
“Dick.” Disgusted, Dec flung him to the floor and turned to check on Rori.
She was gone.
Rori couldn’t have been more horrified if she had woken up to find herself walking buck naked through Times Square during rush hour. Not only had that revolting Af creature caught them making out—with her hand wrapped around Mr. Crowley, no less—he shot Dec down with his ugly comments. For an angel, he was a complete tool. She wanted to rip his throat out and she was one of the most non-violent people she knew! Everything about him set her teeth on edge. His smarmy comments, his slimy insinuations, and the way he talked to her as if she were garbage. How dare he? She’d never done anything to him! Since he’d been there, she’d only tried to help him be more comfortable. The first couple of days he wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t get out of bed, wouldn’t talk. She’d gone out of her way to bring him food, urge him to talk, offer sympathy. He shoved her away every time.
The fight was ugly. But then so was Af’s attitude. His face was bleeding from his nose, mouth, and a gash on his cheek. Served him right. Go Dec! She watched Dec’s fist collide with his mouth again and winced as a spray of blood hit the wall behind the sink. Ewww. Okay, that’s probably enough violence for one morning. She took a step towards the kitchen when the walls began to undulate, the floor shifted ninety degrees, and her vision went black.
She opened her eyes with a splitting headache, a nasty taste in her mouth, and a huge sigh of resignation. Great. Where was she now? Peering around without moving her body, she took a deep breath and regretted it instantly. Jesus! What was that smell? Gagging, she pinched her nostrils shut and stood up. A gutted fish carcass clung to her ass for a split second before falling away with a soft thud into a pile of other dead fish.
“Really?” She threw her hands up to the universe. “Out of all the places for me to land, you feel the need to dump me in a pile of dead fish? This is beyond gross.” Brushing who knows what else off of her shorts, she picked her way from behind the three-foot high retaining wall that seemed to divide the fish dump from a shack on a short, rickety pier. It was empty at the moment. Of course it was. It felt like the middle of the night. The moon was buried behind a band of thick tropical clouds. The air was drinkable with the threat of rain. Her skin prickled and every sweat gland in her body shifted into high gear. A wasp-sized mosquito and four of its best buds landed on her arm.
This sucked big time, but she might as well see what was up. The spontaneous projections were rare these days, so this must be important. The big reveal could wait a minute though. In between swatting at more mosquitos and keeping an eye out for people, she took time to braid her hair to get the heavy mass off of her sweaty neck. Ugh! It was hot. Time to move. The sooner she saw what she needed to see, the sooner she got to leave.
The pier she’d woken up on wasn’t alone. There were ten other ramshackle wooden piers jutting from the rocky shore. Some of them were topped with tiny shacks like this one, while others had shady-looking boats tied to them. The boats ranged from rowboats to one or two sleek cabin cruisers. Across the water, a foreboding mountain range dominated the landscape. Behind her, a shantytown sprawled in all its ugly glory. The corrugated metal roofs gleamed dully with an occasional flash of lightning from the storm building above them. A gust of wind lifted her braid and brought faint male voices with it. She froze.
Carefully slipping into the nearest fish shack, she peered between the warped boards that made up the walls. From her vantage point, she had a clear view of the street that led away from the docks. It seemed to wind upward to the left into the town. Thunder rumbled from across the water, the storm building its momentum as it crossed the mountains. Another flash of lightning snagged her eye. There!
Hugging the shadows—not just a man—a soldier. Moving as quietly as a wraith, he swung his head back and forth, studying the street, carrying an AR-15 like an extension of his body. That lovely feeling of impending doom smacked her dead between the eyes. Behind him, three others snaked along; all heavily armed as well. As they got closer, the soft crunch of boots on gravel broke the heavy stillness. She caught herself glancing uneasily over her shoulder. Things were about to get bloody.
After a few minutes, she counted six men. One by one, they passed her hiding place and headed into the town. There was only one thing to do now. She didn’t want to follow, but the vision wouldn’t let her go if it wasn’t important. She wasn’t in any danger. Whatever was happening had already happened. She couldn’t change it; she was only a watcher. No, she couldn’t change a thing, but she sure as hell could watch in horror as people died. It was awesome being psychic. Not.
Just as she started to slip away from the building, something moved on the water.
Chapter 9: Crossing the Line
“NO, NO, NO!” Dec flung himself toward Rori’s empty body. She’d collapsed in a heap, her head narrowly missing the corner of the coffee table. Automatically feeling for a pulse, he exhaled with relief when he found it. Thank God! It was erratic and fast, but she was alive. Straightening her limbs so she wouldn’t cramp up, he smoothed a stray lock of hair from her face and glanced skyward. Please come back to me, baby.
Begging wouldn’t help. She’d come back when the past was done with her. Where was she? What was she seeing? It wouldn’t be good. It never was. When she came back, she’d be wigged out and weak. Damn it! He friggin’ hated this! Hated the loss of control. Hated the risk to her soul. The warding sigil tattooed on her shoulder didn’t mean squat. He didn’t trust it to work—not when it came to his girl—he was the only protection he trusted, and he couldn’t reach her now.
Thanks to Ikini and Azrael, she would always feel tainted inside. No matter how many times he tried to reassure her that it wasn’t true, she felt dirty, used, broken. That lack of confidence left cracks in her armor; left her vulnerable. That tat could only do so much if she wasn’t inside the body that held its power. Spontaneous astral projection was one of the only times she was an easy target for a demon with enough mojo to snatch her soul from an alternate plane.
It was one of the only times he couldn’t get to her if she needed him. He hated feeling this helpless! These little trips of hers took decades off of his immortal life. Tucking her ag
ainst his chest, he stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Don’t go too far.”
Rude and obnoxious even now, Af invaded their space without waiting for an invitation. “Is she dead?”
Dec ground his teeth together and tried to count to ten. Why, oh why, didn’t he break the fucker’s jaw? “You can sense her heartbeat, you dumb fucking dickhead. Why would you even ask that stupid question?” He rounded on Af and shoved his ass out of the way. “Sometimes I wonder how in the hell you got to be an angel.”
Af’s smart mouth puckered up like he’d been drilled again. Instead of defending himself, he flexed his fingers like he wanted to restart the festivities from the kitchen. Bring it. He was game if Af felt froggy.
After a few seconds of glaring at each other some more, he shrugged. Whatever, man. He might as well do something useful while he waited for Rori. The disaster in the kitchen wasn’t going to clean itself up. Af stared off into space before crouching next to Rori, expression curious. Dec warned, “Don’t you dare touch her!”
“Calm down, Prince Charming. I’m not going to hurt her. I’ve never seen anyone astral project before—just curious—that’s all.” He reached for her hand and Dec snatched his wrist, hauling him upright again.
“I. Said. Don’t. Touch. Her. Your energy isn’t safe for her. Especially while she’s vulnerable.” He crowded Af’s space until he retreated several feet. “In fact, why don’t you stay this far back? I don’t know how much of your darkness will leech out, and I’m not willing to risk her soul.”
Af threw up his hands and backed up, eyes lingering on Rori’s face. The attention made Dec nervous. Very nervous. The last thing they needed was the Angel of Wrath sticking around. It was shitty luck that he ended up here in the first place. Friggin’ bad omen for sure. No one in their right mind wanted anything to do with Af. He trailed hate and chaos behind him like a fog. Even the most tenderhearted creature snapped eventually. He was toxic. The longer he was around, the worse the darkness became. For him to show up right before the wedding . . . Well, he wasn’t going to let that thought even rattle around his brain. The wedding would be perfect. He and Rori would get married and live happily ever after as he promised.
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