Maybe he’d go to a club and look for somebody who wanted to be his girlfriend for an hour. What he ought to be doing was looking for a poker game so he could balance out some of his losses. But that behavior wouldn’t qualify as self-sabotage.
He hadn't walked five steps away from the entrance to the bar before Baph's men grabbed him.
"Well, there he is. Pretty as a dark angel. Hello, Storm." Baph was wearing the expensive overcoat that he always wore, winter or summer, and a smile that could only be described as chilling.
"Dick."
The guy's name was Richard. Angel called him Dick just to dick with him, but privately, that was in his own head, he thought of him as “Baph”, short for Baphomet, because he bore an uncanny resemblance to the ancient infamous engraving. Angel didn’t know what species the guy was, but he put the goat in goatee. In addition to notable facial hair, he had vertical slits for pupils, horns and was probably sporting a sizable pair of breasts under all that outerwear.
Angel would bet on it, but even he had to admit that wasn’t saying much. After all his poor management of the betting impulse was what had brought him to that moment.
Baph’s tone was sugar sweet. Too sweet. "Let’s go over here and have a little dialogue.” Following the direction his eyes went when he said, ‘over here’, Angel deduced that ‘here’ meant the alley. He thought about trying to run for it, but the two goons anticipated that move and grabbed him first. He had a matched pair of thug accessories, one on each side forcibly escorting him to the far side of the dumpster, past the reach of street lights.
"You know I like you more than most of my addicts. And not just because you’re so pretty. So it’s going to hurt me to hurt you and that makes me even angrier than if I didn’t have feelings for you.”
“You have feelings for me?” When there was no reply, Angel said, “Look, uh, Richard…”
Baph sneered. “So it’s Richard now, is it? Shut it, junkie.”
“Junkie?”
“You object to the term? The monkey on your back doesn’t care whether your Jones is chemicals or horses. Do we agree you owe me money?”
“Yes.”
“It’s unfortunate that you’re choosing to spend your time in low class bars nursing hooch when you could be doing something productive. Like winning enough money to pay your debts. What do you think I ought to do about that?”
“Give me another week?”
Baph laughed without making any noise. “Sure. Sure. Another week. No problem. But I think it needs to be an incentivized week. Seems painfully clear you’re lacking motivation. So we’re going to give you something painful to remember when you’re making choices during your week’s reprieve. Maybe it’s your looks that’s your downfall. I can fix that for you.”
Baph reached into the overcoat and withdrew a surgical-sharp instrument that seemed to match his reputation for liking to deliver his own messages. Personally. When Angel realized that the situation was serious and coming to a head, he started struggling to get out of the hold the gumbahs had on him.
It was then that the miracle occurred.
Angel was jerked free of the hold the two miscreants had on him just before they were privileged to have their heads knocked together by an angel. It was as close as either would ever come to communion with one. Meanwhile, the demon, Deliverance, grabbed the intended victim, whom he believed to be his son-in-law, and vanished with him.
Kellareal and Deliverance had happened upon Angel Storm at the same time. After a half hour debate they agreed to call it a tie. Next they fought over who would get to deliver Storm to Litha.
“How did you get to be friends with my daughter anyway?”
“I was watching her. I followed her into a pass. She sensed she had a tail and doubled back on me.”
“Something about your phraseology suggests to me that you may be a fan of film noir.”
“I am a fan of film noir.”
Deliverance stared at Kellareal for a minute. “Why were you watching Litha?”
Kellareal smirked at the demon. “Like you don’t know.”
“Pretend I don’t and tell me.”
“The Council wants her watched because she has enough power to go Carrie on the whole world.”
“Oh, that.”
“Yes, that.”
“And you were ‘tailing’ her?” The incubus punctuated the air with quote fingers when he said tailing. “Since when are angels in the biz of following demons?”
“Like I said, she’s special. You know it. And I’m one of them.”
“Them?”
“An emissaric seraphim.”
“That supposed to mean something to me?”
Kellareal looked at Deliverance like he was an imbecile. “Perhaps not. The point is that I was given the task of keeping tabs on your girl and we ended up being friendly.”
Deliverance could not hide his distaste at that possibility.
“Back to the issue at hand. I’m her father and his father-in-law. I was present when he wandered off and caused all this trouble and I should be the one to put him back where he goes.”
“Actually, since you’re the one who lost him and caused all this trouble, you’re the last creature we should entrust with his safe return.”
When the demon could see that no argument was getting him anywhere, he finally said, “Please. I need the win.”
“Did you say please?”
“I did. And you heard me.”
“Say it again.”
Deliverance wanted to launch himself at the black-eyed blonde and take him to the ground, but he held his temper. “Please.”
To Kellareal, getting the demon to beg was as good as a win. With a smile full of smug, he acquiesced, which left Deliverance with two thoughts about the emissaric seraphim: first, that Kell was surprisingly decent for an angelic chap and, second, that the angel was a sucker for not insisting on negotiating a better deal than two utterances of the word ‘please’.
It took less than four minutes to get to the vineyard and Deliverance chuckled all the way. He also made sure he had a death grip on Storm.
Litha was going to be so happy and so surprised. The demon sensed what part of the house she was in and dropped the lunker in the master bedroom right outside her bathroom door. He knocked softly.
"Litha. It’s Dad. I have a surprise. And don't say I never did anything for you."
Without waiting for a response, he popped out, feeling triumphant and thinking he deserved a femme feast in celebration.
Angel couldn’t begin to process what had happened. One minute he was in an alley about to be cut, the next he had his arms full of a soft, curvy woman who had flung herself at him and then grabbed on, demanding kisses like her life depended on it.
He knew Baph was wonky. Maybe there were odd ideas about punishment wherever he was from. Or maybe the piece was like a last meal. Either way, he was partaking.
Litha had been coming out of the shower wearing a towel. It had disappeared seconds after she rushed that big body and collided with the one person who could put her world back on its axis and make it start spinning in the right direction again.
She stripped him out of his pants and boots, but couldn’t wait longer than that to get him inside her. The threat of being without him forever had ramped her desire into a tight spiral. So she left him in his tight-fitting tee and nothing else. She wished she had six hands so she could touch him everywhere at once. On one level she was in the middle of a prelude to the most feverish fuck of her life. On another level she was checking to make sure he was okay.
He interrupted both her preoccupations by grabbing her up and dropping her onto the bed seconds before she felt his weight settle. It felt good. It felt familiar. It also felt… different somehow.
The sex was rough compared to what she was used to, but she didn’t care about that. When Storm fought, he fought hard, holding nothing back. In general, he approached life with a similar intensity, but his bedroom
manner was characteristically different. He had a preference for lengthy foreplay and slow, tender, sweet, sincere lovemaking. The pounding into her body was almost brutal. She ignored the distant look on his face and chalked up the hurried humping to the same desperate feelings of separation and uncertainty she’d been suffering.
He yelled out an orgasm and collapsed on top of her. It wasn’t like Storm to be oblivious to whether or not she’d been properly pleasured, but they’d both been through a lot. And she was so glad to have him there.
“Welcome back.” She smiled into his mouth. "I'm going to need another shower. Why don't you join me? Let’s get clean together then I’ll feed you and you can tell me everything."
She pushed at him to get his weight off her. When he rolled off to the side, she rose from the bed and headed back toward the bath.
He turned his head to watch her saunter away and felt a sizable appreciation for the sight of her curvy backside. Yeah. Sizable and growing larger between his legs. Again. So soon.
Normally Angel didn't do play and stay, but he was up for a repeat with Green Eyes. He got up to follow her. She’d invited him into the shower and he didn’t need to be asked twice.
Litha turned and smiled just in time to see him grab the shoulders of his tee with both hands, jerk it over his head, and drop it on the floor.
Her smile faded when her eyes drifted downward to the elegant and intricate dragon tattoo that started at his left pec, ran around his ribcage and ended out of sight at his shoulder blade.
"You got a tattoo?"
"Yeah. Like it? It's not exactly new."
"Not new? What do you mean 'not new'?"
Angel cocked his head at her look of confusion. "I've had it since I was nineteen."
"Nineteen?"
He smirked at the question as he prowled toward her.
"What's with the question, sweet tits? You're starting to sound like a parrot."
Litha's brain circuits scrambled to put the puzzle pieces together and she didn’t like the picture she was getting. "What's my name?"
He stalked toward her. "Names aren't really my thing, cutie pie."
“Oh gods.” Her knees felt weak and she might have been a little lightheaded for a second.
Storm would never call her something so ridiculous. He knew how she felt about stupid pet names, especially those that involved pastry or produce: cupcake, pumpkin, peaches, pie.
Her look of horror kept pace with her growing realization that the man whose semen was currently seeping down her thighs, was not her husband. She emitted a sound that was a cross between a cough, a sob, and strangulation, then grabbed a bath sheet off a hook within reach and hurriedly drew it around her. The imposter responded by sculpting Storm's face into a wicked smile that her spouse simply did not have in his range of expressions.
"Aw, baby, don't cover up now. I like the view."
While he grabbed a corner of the towel and began playfully pulling it away from her, she grasped the black diamond pendant and squeezed. If Deliverance thought he was in trouble before...
When Litha’s dad appeared a moment later, Angel jumped and yelped a little.
Deliverance looked at the unashamedly naked Storm and smiled. “Having fun yet?”
Litha gathered her bath sheet around her with as much dignity as she could muster, circumstances being what they were, and hissed at her father.
"You know, you would think that, with a name like Deliverance, you could manage to deliver the right Storm."
The demon jerked his head at a naked, confused version of Storm. “It’s not him?"
She shook her head. "Definitely not."
Deliverance openly sniffed the air then knowingly looked at his daughter.
She hated the scarlet blush that she knew was creeping up her neck toward her face, darkening the already pink effect of the beard burn his stubble had left on her cheeks. But she didn't hate the color of humiliation nearly as much as she hated her dad at that moment. If she had ever been more irate, she couldn't remember when. Pair that with righteous indignation and she was summoning every scrap of remaining patience to make her voice even enough so that she didn't sound every bit as crazy as she felt at the moment.
"Get. Him. Out. Of. Here."
"Where do you want me to take him?"
Litha turned to face the wall and put one hand out in front of her against the tile for support. "Just get him into some pants and wait in the kitchen."
"Okay."
He had the gall to sound dejected. Turning to the unwanted version of Storm, the demon raised his eyebrows.
"You heard her. Cover it up and follow me." When Angel didn't move, Deliverance snapped his fingers and waved his hand in front of the guy's face. "If you're waiting for me to dress you, that's not...," he stopped and looked at Litha's tense posture, "that’s probably not going to happen. Pants on and come with me."
Looking a little dazed, Angel pulled on his pants and shirt and grabbed his boots on the way past, casting a look over his shoulder at Litha as he left. He followed Deliverance down the hallway to the kitchen where the demon leaned against a counter with his arms crossed and glared at the confused transplant like the whole thing was his fault.
Good-Looking-Angry-Man might not have anything to say, but Angel had questions.
"Where is this? Who are you? Who is she? How did I get here?" His eyes darted around the kitchen. "Never mind. Scratch all that and let me make it simple. What the fuck is going on here?"
Good-Looking-Angry-Man made no move to gesture or speak. Angel decided he would give it as long as it took to pull his boots on. When time was up and there was no answer forthcoming, he stood and glanced toward the back door.
"Fine. Then I'm out of here. See ya."
"Sit down."
It wasn't an invitation. It wasn't a command. It sounded more like a foregone conclusion, as if Deliverance had never experienced not getting his way and couldn't even conceive of the possibility.
"Why? It was a sweet bag, but I'm done with her and you don't seem to have any answers soooo..."
If Angel Storm had understood that he was talking to a powerful, eight-hundred-year-old elemental that some called demon, and that the “bagging” to which he referred was said demon's daughter, he might have been more concerned about the flash of irritation he saw in those black eyes.
"Done with her?"
Deliverance's tone was incredulous. No creature in the cosmos would dare talk about Litha with such an absence of respect. He didn't consciously call a fire ball to his hand. His emotional reaction just brought it on involuntarily. It would have felt marvelous to laugh while the contemptuous underling incinerated, but he didn't want to see any more hurt or shame or disappointment on his little girl's face. And he didn't want to be scolded anymore either. So he willed the hot flame to change to cool blue and then spit out.
"What the hell?" Angel's eyes had gone wide when Deliverance produced fire from nothing.
"Sit and shut it or you may find I'm the hell humans like to use to scare children."
Angel Storm wasn't fond of following orders, but decided to make a prudent exception in that case. He sat. And shut it.
For a long time, Litha stood in the bath not moving, just trying to wrap her brain around what had happened and process. That meant a few tears and a lot of curses. She felt betrayed by her own body. It wasn’t a willing infidelity. It couldn't have been willing if she'd thought dragon man was her husband, but in final analysis, how much of a difference did that make? She'd taken another man inside her and the shame of it made her nauseous.
Storm. He was out there somewhere probably scared he couldn't find his way back, while some look-alike loser was getting off in their bed.
She took a hot shower, scrubbing her skin until it was raw and red. The whole time she was having to work hard at beating back a feeling of queasiness. All that scouring didn't make her feel better, but not doing it would have made her feel so much worse.
When she couldn’t stall any longer, she pulled on some old soft jeans and a long sleeve tee. Litha sat on the edge of the bed and called Elora. Mercifully she picked up on the second ring.
"I need you. In fact I need both of you. Can you square away some babysitting for a couple of hours?"
Elora had been sprinkling some raspberry vinaigrette onto a salad. She didn't have aspirations or desire to be a great cook and she didn’t prepare food often, but sometimes she liked to eat in with her little family - just herself and her two boys. She stopped tossing and grew serious.
"Of course. What do you need?"
Litha sighed. "I need a meeting. You, Ram, and Glen. Your apartment in twenty minutes. Rosie’s been with Glen for the last four hours. She can come if he wants to bring her.”
“Okay. Litha. Tell me what’s wrong?”
“It’s just too much to explain on the phone.”
When Litha joined her guests in the kitchen, she was holding a pair of handcuffs lined with purple sheepskin.
"Which one of us are you planning to use those on?" Storm's doppelganger sounded like he was hopeful that it was a joke.
Her eyes grazed over him before she leveled her father with a look.
"I’m going to Ram’s and Elora’s. Give me a ten minute head start and then bring… him to the inside of their apartment. I don’t want anyone to see him." They heard an audible clink when her palm slapped the counter. When she removed her hand, there was a key sitting on the shiny black slate. Holding the cuffs toward Deliverance, she said, "You will use these. When you arrive with our guest, I’ll unlock the cuffs."
Deliverance knew he had made an even bigger mess of his mess, but couldn't help being who he was. So, picking up the cuffs, he said, "And you just happened to have these lying around because..."
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