Saol Mates (Primani Book Six)

by Laurie Olerich

  “Damn it to Hell!” Launching back to his feet, he stomped over to the doors. Locked. Peering through the dark glass, he didn’t see anyone. There were no other cars parked out front. Shit. Now what? Wait here? Walk more? His feet were tired and he was thirsty. Damn human traveling sucked. If he had wings, he’d be flying. His feet wouldn’t hurt. If he had his wings, he’d already be kneeling chest deep in Seth’s torso. Fucking Seth! Uncurling his fist, he blew off some steam by blowing up the gas station. It went up in a nice cloud of smoke. Now that feels good.

  An hour later, he was still walking, more like limping, along the highway when he came to a rest stop. A handful of cars were parked there, but one contained a female driver. Better option than another male. Rubbing his chest ruefully, he winced at the twinge of pain that lingered. Looking left and right for witnesses, he walked right up to the green minivan and jerked the door open. A woman screamed her lungs out the second she saw his face. Behind her, two kids joined in the noise until he muted the lot of them. “Shut the hell up! Why is everything so damn loud on this plane? This is why I hate humans.”

  Panicking, the woman struggled to unbuckle her seatbelt. He laid his hand over her shoulder and turned her face to his. Locking his gaze to hers, he asked softly, “What’s your name?”

  She didn’t blink. She didn’t respond at all. Good. She’s under.

  “What’s your name, woman? Answer my question.”

  “My name is Tracey.”

  “Thank you, Tracey. I’m not stealing your car. I won’t hurt you or your kids if you cooperate. You will drive me until I tell you to stop. Is that clear? Nod if you understand.”

  She nodded woodenly.

  “Good girl. Now I’m going to let you go and climb into the passenger seat.”

  Before he got into the van, he opened the side door and put both kids to sleep. It was either that or he’d kill them. He despised children. So noisy. So messy. Probably better to just let them nap. His rage was just barely under control, but even he drew the line at taking human life unnecessarily. When he got into his seat, the woman was looking at him for instructions. He said, “Just drive north. I’ll tell you when to turn.”

  Once they got on the highway, he leaned his head against the seat and closed his eyes to search for Irina’s golden little signal. It was still holding steady in the Catskills.

  “How far are we from Hunter Mountain?”

  “It’s about two hours from here.”

  Travers waited in the shadows, pacing with pent-up adrenaline. Red-faced and sweating rivers, he rounded on Seth the moment he crossed into the room. “Finally! What the hell have you been doing? I’ve got a show tomorrow. I spent a lot of goddamned money on this and I don’t want to fucking rush.”

  Cutting his eyes to the crew, Seth pasted a bland expression on his face and brushed off the man’s complaints. “You’ve got plenty of time, Mr. Travers. We can start now and you’ll still have six hours to do anything you want.” He let his eyes drop to the man’s crotch and added in a more nasty tone, “Surely your cock can’t last longer than that?”

  Not bothering to laugh, Travers stepped up on Seth with more than a little madness glittering in his eyes. His beefy hands were clenched tightly, a tic jumped in his jaw. The man was definitely on edge. Best to give him the bitch before he had to knock him out. Bad for business, that. Staring the man down, he said evenly, “Will this work for you? The rack is ready.” He passed the big spender a black leather face mask and offered, “We can provide whatever else you want. This is your fantasy.”

  Grunting in annoyance, Travers said, “You’re damn right it is. For two million dollars, I should get a fucking cheerleading squad.”

  Seth was positive the man’s cock couldn’t handle an entire squad. “So this is acceptable then? Do you need any tools? Special toys?”

  The man took a minute to sweep his eyes around the room, taking in the medieval rack, concrete floors, the drain, and the single hanging light bulb. “Just bring me the bitch and make sure she’s awake. I’m not paying to fuck a corpse.”

  “Yet.”

  Chuckling meanly, the cowboy smiled in a way that bothered Seth, and said, “Yet.”

  Right on cue, the door at the top of the stairs swung open and one of the guards appeared with Irina stumbling in front of him. With glazed eyes, she swayed into the railings on the way down the steps but kept her footing. At the bottom, she lurched into Seth with a sharp gasp of recognition.

  “Seth! Please do not do this! I am begging you. I’ll do anything you want.” Dropping to her knees, she clawed weakly at the front of his slacks before he caught her wrist and hauled her upright.

  “Save it for the camera, sweetheart. You’re about to become a movie star.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but the words slurred away as Pox readjusted her meds. Holding her steady, the demon shook his head behind her. Her eyes fluttered a couple of times before she slid down the front of Pox’s leg.

  Tony, the cameraman, interrupted the drama. “Boss? Mr. Travers is ready and the crew’s set.” He nodded his head towards 422 and asked, “That how you want her? She’s not too lively.”

  “Give her a couple of minutes. We only gave her enough to shut her up. By the time it matters, she’ll be alert and screaming her fucking head off.”

  Tony gave him a thumbs up and scuttled back to the shadows to get Travers mic’d up. Seth studied the woman with a frown. It was too bad, really. He’d hoped for one last blow job before she was gone. She had a luscious mouth. Dismissing the lost opportunity, he ordered, “Chain her and get the blade for Travers. He’ll want the black one.”

  Irina’s signal was growing weaker. Af scowled into the darkness. How much farther was she? Expanding his sight outward, he tried to pinpoint her location again, but the usual glimmer of her soul was fading. Come on. Come on. Where are you, my little guidepost? Don’t wander off. I need you to find Seth. Holding his breath as the signal blinked, faded, and blinked back to life again, he was relieved when the signal settled into a dull glow.

  “There you are. Stay put now. I’m almost there.”

  Startled at the sound of his voice after so many hours of silence, Tracey swung her head in his direction.

  “We’re almost there, Tracey. Turn right onto the next road. Then drive five more miles and stop. When we get there, I need you to stay in the car and wait for me. I’ll need a ride back and I’ll have another passenger. Do you understand?”

  She blinked and turned back to the road. “Yes, I do. I’ll wait in the car.”

  Af turned to check the back seat. Tracey’s two children were soundly sleeping with their sticky fingers clutching worn out stuffed toys. Children were chubby-faced little demons if anyone asked him, but no one ever did. The one nearest to Af was a boy. He could sense it as easily as he sensed humans’ emotions and read their pea brain minds. The child was snuffling softly in his sleep. It was not cute. It grated on his nerves.

  They were nearly there. His skin tingled with recognition as the dark energy reached him through the pitch-black forest. Like ripples on a lake, the demon’s evil spiraled ever outward from its source.

  Seth was here. Finally!

  There was no reason to rein in his temper now. He was two miles away from getting this cursed sigil off of his back. Two miles away from getting his wings released. Two miles away from ripping the bloody, fucking scales from Seth’s body. It was time to set his nature free. He was Af! He was the Angel of Wrath! And he was pissed off on a global, extinction-level, annihilate-everything-in-sight scale. As he drew upon his own dark energy, his eyes smoldered with the white incandescence of pure, righteous fury. His arms went rigid with an overwhelming need to rip and destroy. His powerful heart raced as it sent blood pounding through his body, filling him with strength, giving his wings—

  Searing pain?

  Arching his back with a grunt of surprise, he clawed at a blade sticking between his shoulders. But no . . . It wasn’t an attac
k; no weapon was shoved into his back. As he dragged his fingers over his skin, his wings strained desperately beneath the surface. The agony was breathtaking, but oh, so welcome. They were still there! Embracing the pain, he threw gasoline on the fire of his rage by bringing his last memory of Seth’s face to mind. Splattered with Af’s blood, distorted by the flames and shadows of Hell, with eyes glowing with their snakelike pupils—and a smug smile pasted on his mouth.

  Seth was about to eat his own teeth.

  The van slowed to a crawl and then a complete stop as Tracey pulled over and parked. The wooden building was set back from the road. Lights were on inside and Af identified a handful of guards around the entrance. Demons and humans mixed. They were no match for him. He’d be inside before they could blink.

  “Where are you, Irina?”

  Her signal was gone.

  “And cut. That’s it.” Tony’s guttural voice broke the spell.

  No one moved. In his director’s chair, Seth raised heavy lids and used his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his hairline. The material came away bloody. Blinking to clear the fuzzy orgasm haze, he glanced down at the fine spray pattern across his white shirt before flipping his eyes towards the rack.

  Travers’ naked body lay sprawled where he’d finally collapsed on top of the girl. The creaking of metal hinges seemed preternaturally loud now that the screaming had stopped. It was the rack. Its swaying gradually slowed until it simply stopped. The patter of dripping blood filled the void. As his brain started firing again, Seth zipped his slacks and gave Pox a stiff nod. “Clean him up.”

  Pox lifted a shaky hand towards the rack and asked, “What about her?”

  “Burn everything.”

  Chapter 21: Unnatural Disaster Area

  EACH AND EVERY ONE OF AF’S CELLS SCREAMED for vengeance. It was time. Quickly skirting the tree line with both eyes trained on the house, he stalked closer to the entrance, hoping to surprise his prey. His heart thundered in his ears. His fingers clenched and unclenched as his body readied itself for maximum damage. He was so close now. So close to getting what he needed. So close to being whole again.

  He felt Seth. Felt the dark horror emanating from the cabin. Felt the weight of gruesome death settle over him like lead. The demon would pay for this night’s work as well as every other. He would feel the same terrifying hopelessness as his victims. As if conjured by Af’s thoughts, Seth walked through the front door. The demon paused to speak to the guards before taking the steps with almost gingerly movements. Deep in thought, he dug into his pocket for keys to the sports car. Reveling in the agony streaking between his shoulders, Af drew a steadying breath and loosened the tight rein he’d been keeping on his power.

  Af peeled away from the shadows. “Where is the girl?”

  Seth stiffened at the sound of his voice. Turning slowly, he studied Af between narrowed lids before his mouth curled into that smug smile. “Dead. Very dead.” He let his eyes roam over Af’s thunderous expression and radiating fury, and added casually, “But you knew that, didn’t you? You’re not here for her.”

  Taking a step closer to the demon, he replied coldly, “No, I’m not. I’m here for you.”

  Seth’s expression was still smug, but something shifted. His eyes hardened with a calculating gleam. “Sorry, old friend. I can’t stay to entertain you.”

  Launching himself like a cannon, Af tackled Seth, slamming him against the side of the car with a force that shattered the window. With glass raining down on them, he snarled, “I want my wings back! Undo this spell!”

  Seth only smiled and grunted, “Not gonna happen.”

  In the next second, his corporeal body dissolved into molecules that slid through Af’s fingers into nothingness.

  “Damn it and bloody hell!” Uriel’s infuriated roar ricocheted through the labyrinth that was Tartarus. Hard-edged demon guards swallowed uneasily and considered leaving their posts as he stormed past them with his ass practically on fire with frustrated rage. Lucifer was going down! He had had it up to his eyeballs with his brother’s petty machinations. He’d pulled some stunts over their existence, but this was going too far. Grabbing the nearest bastard by the throat, Uriel growled, “Move one inch and I will torch you! I’ve had just about enough of your kind today.”

  The guard’s eyeballs rolled around to look for some kind of backup from his fellow demons. Everyone else took a step back and suddenly found their fingernails fascinating. Uriel shoved the guard aside and stalked back to his office. He was on a mission and any distractions might end up ash. The urge to smite half of Hell was bubbling dangerously close to the realm of possibility. It would serve Lucifer right. Ass!

  Two minutes later, the first shock wave hit him between the eyes so hard he actually blacked out for a few seconds. Gripping the edge of his desk, he shook his head to clear it. “What in the hell was that?”

  There weren’t supposed to be any meteors in Earth’s vicinity. Had something slipped through their radar? He wasn’t prepared for mass extinction. He didn’t have enough staff to handle the intake process.

  The second wave knocked him completely out of his chair. His ears rang with the sonic boom. Digging a finger in his ear to pop it, he froze in horror as comprehension dawned.

  Containing the force of a meteor impact, that sheer destructive power could only come from one being. What in the name of their father was he blowing up?

  In the next several seconds, one pulse after another hit Uriel from all sides, sending him careening off balance as he threw on armor and strapped on his sword.

  “Raphael! We have a situation. Grab your sword and bring everybody!” he bellowed for backup before using his sight to locate his fellow Angel of Destruction.

  If Af had finally gone insane, he wouldn’t be open to reason. There would be no talking him down. They’d have to take him by force and it would be both messy and noisy. There was no telling how bad the human casualties would be. Cleaning this up would take an army of working angels and the Archangels’ Primani units. Restraining Af would require more firepower than he and Raphael could bring to the party. Time to call in the big guns.

  “Michael!”

  Dec sat bolt upright in bed with the sound of cymbals clanging in his ears. Completely disoriented, he squinted into the dark room, waiting for his brain to start firing on all cylinders again. What the shit was that?

  There it was again! The bed was vibrating. No, not the bed . . . The whole damn building trembled.

  What now?

  “Rori! Wake up, love. Something’s wrong.” He gave her a gentle nudge to help with the waking part.

  “Of course there is. It’s our wedding day.” The muttered reply was mostly hidden by the pillow she’d dragged over her head. He nudged her again and she pushed herself to her elbows, blinking sleepily. “Are those car alarms?” Rori’s voice grew stronger as she shouted over the noise.

  Every car alarm in the city must be going off. The sound was unbelievable even inside their room. Better check it out. He was halfway to the window when the most important alarm went off.

  Their Primani emergency signal went ballistic inside his head, and he nearly slammed face first into the wall. Clutching at his temples he yelled, “I got it! Be right there!” and the buzzing stopped as abruptly as it started.

  “Shit! I’ve got to go! Stay in the apartment no matter what! Promise me.”

  “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

  “Code Red.” He dove for his gear and was dragging on combat boots and trying to shove his arms into his t-shirt at the same time when Rori came over to help.

  “What’s that mean? It can’t be good,” she asked while she dragged his shirt over his head and shoved his arms through the holes so he could focus on zipping up his boot.

  “It means that all Hell is breaking loose somewhere. Possibly literally.” While he did the other boot, she grabbed his weapons from the closet and handed them to him one at a time.

  Pulling her close, he gave her
a hard kiss. “Definitely not good.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Don’t know. Don’t care. We just follow the signal.”

  A split second later, Sean materialized in the bedroom, dressed for combat and dripping with weapons. His face was taut with urgency; his eyes already backlit with his saol. “You good?”

  Familiar heat built behind his irises as his body did its combat prep thing too. Dec nodded once and they dematerialized together.

  “Never in a thousand years . . .” Dec’s brain must be stuck. He couldn’t make sense of the scene in front of him no matter how many times he blinked to clear his vision.

  “Holy Mary Mother of God.” Sean’s strained prayer pretty much summed it up for him too.

  Beside them, Dimitri wagged his head in utter disbelief, murmuring, “I know, right?”

  “Who is that?” Alex asked as he joined their group.

  Killian replied with more than a little awe in his voice, “That, my friend, is the Angel of Wrath.”

  “He looks pretty pissed.” Alex leaned forward to get a clearer view around Killian’s back.

  Probably that was the biggest understatement of this century.

  Code Red was reserved for global catastrophes caused by powerful demons, or, as in this case, rogue angels who’d lost their friggin’ minds.

  Shining like a miniature sun, Af was the center of a debris field with about a half mile circumference. It looked a lot like the air burst pattern of an atomic bomb without the mushroom cloud. Trees were broken like toothpicks in every direction except for the one in which he was facing. Since it seemed like he was systematically annihilating one section of trees at a time, the ones in his line of sight were goners.

  The destruction of the forest was shocking enough, but that wasn’t the worst part. That was pretty impressive, but it wasn’t the crushed trees that had the entire Primani corps standing in teams around the perimeter. It wasn’t the damage to the beautiful hardwoods that had drawn a legion of armed angels.