by Nina Croft
“Well, it’s as well we don’t want to pass.” Ash whirled around and waved his right hand in the air. He spoke words in a language Faith didn’t recognize in a harsh, guttural voice. It was as though he tore a hole in the fabric of the universe. A great gaping maw of darkness.
Christian moved to stand in front of them. “She’s not here,” he said. “The one you want. She’s gone.”
More men spilled out of the stair well and took up position around their small group. They all bore swords, though none as big as Christian’s. The blasts came again and they were whirling, deflecting the rays of light.
“Tara,” Ash called.
Tara hesitated and Christian glanced back over his shoulder. “Go.”
She nodded and stepped closer to Ash. He was still holding on to Faith, now he dropped her arm and gave her a rueful smile.
And he changed.
As she stared, he metamorphosed into something else. Right in front of her eyes. He grew until he stood over seven feet tall. Faith took an instinctive step back, her mind refusing to process what was happening. Then he sprouted wings. Not nice fluffy, white ones though. Oh no. Because that would have meant he was an angel. And one thing she was sure of—had known right from the start—Ash was no angel. The wings were black as midnight. He spread them slowly until they wiped out the light, shrouding them in darkness. Faith took another step back, then another. She looked up and up into his eyes and they glowed with an inhuman darkness. His face was the same but subtly changed. The cheekbones sharper, his lower lip fuller.
He held out a hand to her. “Faith, come.” When she didn’t move, his dark eyes narrowed. “If you stay here, you could die. Trust me, Faith. I’ll keep you safe.”
The wings flapped and cool air brushed her face. She glanced around. Time seemed to have slowed, the flashes of white lightning still rained down on them, and Christian and his men still fought on, but it was as though they were cocooned in a bubble.
Trust him?
Could she?
Tonight, her whole world had changed. In fact, her whole life had been shown up to be a lie. She’d thought she worked for the good guys; instead, she’d been working for the very organization responsible for her mother’s murder.
She glanced outside to where the angels were shooting at them. They hadn’t paused to determine if there were innocent people in the building. They wanted something, no someone—the abomination? And they hadn’t cared who they hurt in the process.
So much for the good guys.
What did that leave her with?
The bad guys.
But her faith in her own ability to trust had been washed away.
“Come with me, Faith. Let me show you who I am.”
He spoke in a low, seductive voice.
“Ash, you have to leave,” Christian yelled from the side. “Tara go—jump, you’ll be fine.”
The bubble burst, and the crashes and clashes thundered in her ears. Tara dashed for the black hole, a bolt of light nearly catching her. She hovered on the edge and then she jumped.
“You need to take my hand, Faith.” When she still hesitated, he curved his lips into a sweet smile. “Please.”
And in that moment, she trusted him. Whatever he was, he’d protect her, look out for her, hold her in the darkness. However dark it should become. And in his arms, maybe she could be strong enough to face whatever came next.
She stepped forward and slid her hand into his, saw the triumph flash across his face. He pulled her against him and into his arms. “Hold on,” he murmured.
And they were flying.
She kept her eyes wide open as they rose into the air. Then they dove toward the black hole, and it swallowed them down.
A small scream escaped her throat as the blackness closed around her. She clutched tight onto Ash’s shoulders felt his strong arms tighten, and they were going down.
She tried not to think about where they were heading. It could have taken seconds or minutes or a lifetime. She lost track, lulled by the soft whoosh of beating wings in her ear. Finally, light showed below them and they landed gently. For a second longer he held her and he lowered her to the ground.
She steadied herself on shaky legs, before glancing at Ash—still seven foot tall—no change there.
“I have to go back for the others,” he said.
She nodded. And he flapped his wings, lifted into the air, and vanished in seconds.
Faith stared up after him until a small noise off to the right made her turn around. Tara perched on a low wall. She gave Faith a weak smile.
They were in a courtyard surrounded by tall stone walls and behind her loomed what appeared to be a huge fortress built into a black mountain. Torches flickered in sconces around the courtyard casting an orange light, and above her head, the sky had the purple glow of twilight.
One thing was sure; she was no longer in London.
“Welcome to my father’s home,” Tara said.
Faith swallowed. “Oh shit. I’m in hell.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Ash’s mind was not functioning correctly. He was acting on autopilot. Had been since the moment danger had struck and he’d leaped straight for Faith. Every cell in his body screaming to protect her.
For a second, he’d forgotten his daughter even existed.
He still couldn’t believe it.
He’d searched around for Tara, found her with Christian, and realized that it was the vampire’s job to protect her now. He would keep Tara safe if anyone could.
Ash had known he was coming to care for Faith, had tried not to think about it too much because the whole idea terrified him. He’d once sworn he would never love anyone again. That had changed when he’d discovered Tara still lived.
But not Faith.
She was human. He would lose her—that was inevitable.
And the main reason he’d gone into the relationship was that he’d thought he could never care for her. She was the total opposite of Lily. Maybe that was why she’d sneaked up on him.
From the expression on her face when he’d sprouted the wings, their relationship was probably over before it began.
Total abject horror.
Well, she was going to have deal. Because she owed him, and he always believed in collecting his debts. He remembered the taste of her on his tongue. The feel of her shaking with need in his arms. Her cries of pleasure.
Yeah, she owed him.
And in the end, she had trusted him.
He came out of the portal to find things pretty much the same. The sky filled with a whole host of the bastards. In his mind, angels were pretty much on a par with the fae in terms of how they viewed the other races. Elitist bastards the lot of them. Thought they were better than everyone else.
He lunged to avoid a blast and swore softly.
Christian had ten other vamps with him now. Presumably, all that had been in the building when the attack happened. They were holding them off, but being pushed steadily back.
Christian glanced briefly his way. “Tara?”
“Safe.”
Christian nodded a small smile flashing across his face. He appeared to be enjoying himself. Probably the relief of getting Tara back and knowing she was safe. Or maybe just enjoying a good fight—vampires were hard to kill, especially ones as old and strong as Christian.
Unfortunately, on this world demons were easier to dispose of, especially by avenging angels who wielded the white fire.
How had they known Roz had been here?
It didn’t matter. Something had led them to the Order. Of course, the angels knew of the Order’s existence and had been involved in setting up the original Accords. But otherwise, they stayed out of the way and kept themselves to themselves. One of the advantages to them being elitist he supposed.
He couldn’t see Ryan or Graham. He needed to get them to safety. One direct hit and they’d be ashes. Then he would come back, join in the fight. Kick a little angel butt.
And after that…he
’d introduce himself to Faith.
“Ryan!”
The detective’s head peered around the door to the stairwell.
“Yeah?”
He didn’t seem inclined to leave his safety.
“We’re leaving. Get over here now. And where’s Graham?”
“Here as well.”
He ducked another blast, heard it sizzle across the tip of his wing.
“Now!”
Ryan raced toward him, Graham close behind. Ash held his arms out. “Take hold and don’t let go. Graham gripped his lower arm immediately. Ryan hesitated, but shrugged and grasped hold of his right wrist.
Two more blasts headed his way and he dived for the portal. Christ, they were holding on tight, he thought his bones might snap. He landed hard, but Ryan and Graham were still attached.
“You can let go now,” he suggested.
“Shit,” Ryan muttered. “Double shit. Where the fuck are we?”
Ash bit back a grin. “Where do you think?”
“Believe me, I’m trying not to.”
Faith stood beside Tara. She appeared a little shell-shocked but otherwise okay. Ash nodded. “I have to go back. You’ll be okay. My…housekeeper should be here. She’ll show you where to go.” He looked around. Where was his housekeeper? “Shera,” he yelled. “Get out here and bring my sword!”
Tara rose to her feet and came over. “You can’t go back,” she said. “You don’t have any protection. They’ll kill you. I’d give you my talisman, but they took it from me.”
“I’ll be all right. I’ve fought these bastards before.”
“Talisman? Protection?” Faith hurried over. She reached into her pocket and pulled out pulled out the talisman. “Is this it?”
Ash leaned down and kissed her on the lips. He didn’t know where she’d found it, and he didn’t care. He took the chain from her outstretched hand and slipped it over his neck. “Thank you.” Leaning in, he kissed her again, longer this time, pushing his tongue slowly inside her mouth. She didn’t try to stop him, in fact her lips parted sweetly. Triumph rose inside him, and he was losing himself in the taste of her when someone coughed behind him. Shera. He pulled away.
He stared down into Faith’s eyes. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be back soon.”
He had to go. Since when had staying with a woman won out over a big bust up with a bunch of asshole angels?
He was in trouble.
Backing away, he turned to Shera, and she held out his sword. “Look after them,” he said, taking the weapon. “She goes in my room.” He nodded toward Faith, then launched himself into the air.
He shot out of the portal and straight into the fray. The vampires were pushed back against the far wall now, Christian out in front. He flashed Ash a grim smile, then whirled to deflect a blast.
“Hey,” Ash shouted to for the nearest angel, then swooped down. The angel turned and raised his hand, but before he could release the white fire, Ash slammed into him hurtling them both to the rooftop in a flurry of wings. He shook free, raised his sword, and sliced the angel through the middle so he vanished in a flutter of white feathers.
That wouldn’t finish him for good; he would materialize back where he came from. But it would get rid of him for the moment and it would hurt like hell.
With a beat of his wings, he pushed himself into the air and dove for the next one, a wild exhilaration filling him.
A good fight and the prospect of a hopefully not so good woman. He’d show Faith how to release her darker side and love it.
…
Faith peered around at her little group of refugees. “I don’t know about you lot, but I’m ready to wake up now. More than ready.”
Ryan scrubbed at his already messy hair as he looked around him. “Count me in. Maybe we could pinch each other.”
Faith ground her teeth together. “‘Trust me,’ he said. So I did, and look where that got me. Hell.”
“Actually,” Tara said. “They like to refer to it as the Abyss, and apparently, it’s not so bad.”
“Humph. A rose by any other name and all that crap. And I’ll take your word for the not so bad bit. Do you come here often?”
Tara grinned. “No, I’ve never been. Ash invited me, but…”
“Yeah, I heard you don’t get on.”
So Ash was seven feet tall, had black wings, and lived in hell. Put all that together and that probably made him a…
Her brain balked at even thinking the word. Maybe when she was alone she’d allow herself to think about it. She could go into hysterics without embarrassing herself too badly.
The woman—the extremely beautiful woman—who’d handed Ash the sword studied them, her lips pursed and her nose wrinkled as though she’d smelled something unpleasant.
“Would you like to follow me?”
Faith wasn’t sure. Actually, she was sure—she didn’t want to follow her. But at the same time, she was intrigued to see Ash’s home. Did he spend most of his time here? So far, it didn’t appear particularly cozy. She glanced at the others to see what they thought about the idea. Ryan shrugged. Graham was still staring around him, not appearing too bothered by his location, but she’d already guessed he must be aware of what went on at the Order.
“Lead the way,” Tara said.
The woman spun on her heel and stalked away. They shuffled after her. She was dressed like a female version of Ash in his bad-ass gear but her leather pants were way tighter as though she’d been shrink-wrapped into them. She wore a scarlet shirt on top, tied in a knot at her middle, and knee-high black boots with four-inch heels. Her long black hair hung to her waist. Faith didn’t like her, but decided not to analyze the reaction to closely.
“Who is she?” she whispered to Tara as they followed her through an archway and down a wide corridor. The walls were stone, the floors flag-stoned and cool against her bare feet. She hadn’t bothered to put her shoes on, but then she had been thinking of other things at the time—like that the whole building was shaking and it had nothing to do with the mind-blowing orgasm she’d just experienced.
“Her name is Shera. Roz knows her quite well—apparently she’s a complete bitch.”
“But what does she do?”
Tara cast her an amused sideways glance. “Well, according to Roz she doesn’t sleep with my father if that’s any help.”
Actually, it was, but she wasn’t going to admit to that. “Anything else?”
“She’s his sort of assistant/housekeeper. And she’s a cat.”
“A cat?”
“A shape-shifter.”
Faith’s feet stopped moving, and Ryan bumped into her. “Sorry,” she muttered. She could do this. “Is that like a werewolf?” She was proud of how cool she sounded. Then she remembered something she had read in the files at MI13 and totally discounted at the time. “Hey, is Carl a werewolf?”
“Yes,” Tara replied. “He is. And no, a shape-shifter is different. Werewolves are born human—they have to be attacked by a werewolf to turn into one. Shape-shifters are born that way.”
“Oh my God. You’re Ash’s daughter that makes you half…” Faith trailed off. Shit, she still couldn’t say it. She’d have to practice. Something else to do when she was alone.
Tara laughed, then sobered up. “It’s a lot to take in. You’re actually doing really well.”
“Nah. I’m in complete denial. Hey, do you do that wing thing and shoot up to seven feet?”
“I wish. Though actually, I’m still discovering what I am and what I can do.”
“I take it your mother was human?”
“No. she was fae. She died when I was born.”
“Okay. Fae. So have I met any of those?”
“No. But if you stick around you will. Roz’s father is on the committee. He’s fae, and he’s also my uncle.”
“So Roz is half Fae. Is that where she gets the witchy powers?”
“Partly. But partly from her mother who was half angel.”
&
nbsp; Faith stopped again. This time Ryan avoided running into her. “Roz is part angel? Right of course she is. I could tell that the moment I met her. Not.” Anyone less angelic, Faith had yet to meet. Then again, the reason they were here was because they’d been attacked by a load of angels. So maybe angels weren’t very angelic. She started walking again.
“That’s why they attacked. They hate anyone with mixed blood. They want her dead.”
“Ah.” She fell silent needing time to take in all the new information and decide whether she was actually going insane.
They came out of the corridor and into an enormous hall, like something out of a medieval film set, but luxurious, with high vaulted ceilings and richly colored tapestries on the stone walls. A long, intricately carved wooden table that would probably seat a hundred, stretched along one wall. More torches flickered from around the room and a chandelier dangled in the middle of the ceiling. She breathed in the scent of exotic spices.
“So this is your dad’s place.”
Tara smiled. “Impressive isn’t it?”
“What is he—some sort of lord of the underworld?”
“Prince of Hell?” Ryan offered.
“My Lord Asmodai is one of the seven Princes of the Abyss.” Shera the cat, or the housekeeper, or whatever the hell she was, had paused, no doubt when she realized that they were no longer following her.
Faith looked at Tara. “My Lord Asmodai?”
Tara giggled and Faith felt a smile tugging at her own lips. This whole setup was so impossibly unreal. And maybe it was better that it stayed that way. Because considering the implications of all this was way beyond scary.
Would he want her to call her “My Lord” or “Your Highness” or…
She remembered what Ash had said about locking her in a dungeon, chaining her to the wall, and having his evil way with her. But she had never thought that he might actually have a dungeon. Now, she was betting he hadn’t been joking. A wave of heat washed over her, flushing her skin.
“Are you all right?” Tara asked.
“Why?” She knew she sounded defensive, but hell, she was feeling that way.
“You looked a little odd. They’ll be all right you know. Christian and Ash. They can take care of themselves.”