Isaiah's Undoing- the Warrior's Curse

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Isaiah's Undoing- the Warrior's Curse Page 5

by Tigris Eden


  Great, Raz was on another one of his long-winded speeches where he complained that they were all old, and he was in with the times. Truth was, they had all acclimated as time went on. They were well aware of today’s colloquialisms, as well as urban slang. Castiel just enjoyed messing with Raz because their younger brother was an easy target.

  “Fuck you, Raz,” Castiel shot back. “And spare us your dire tirade about fitting into the mortal world. I may have to work here, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Castiel ground his teeth, a sure sign that he was getting ready to burn out, something they all needed to avoid. He was rage personified when he saw red.

  Whereas Grey would silently assess situations, Cas went balls-out into the fire, no matter the outcome. They’d saved his ass countless times, bailing him out because of his recklessness. Raz was the womanizer of the group, always going for the short skirts and the tight shirts. Raz didn’t care if they were mortal, immortal, or other. He only cared about one thing, and that was the end result.

  Isaiah was the level-headed one. At least, that’s what he’d been told. Level-headed and calm.

  The bathroom door creaked open, and Isaiah looked over to see Dalila stick her head out. She’d left her hair free, and the curls hung loose and silky around her face. A sudden urge to run his fingers through the strands danced through his mind.

  Raz’s entire body turned, while Castiel and Grey just stood, mouths open.

  Isaiah marched up to the door and blocked his brothers’ view. Hissing, he said, “What the fuck are you doing, Dalila? Don’t just come out of the restroom. I said to take a shower.”

  She flashed a deer-in-headlights look, her beautiful honey-colored eyes wide, the centers darkened to a fiery glow.

  “Please.” She stepped around him and headed straight into the center of his new personal nightmare. He’d explained the situation to Grey and hoped like hell his brother had had the common decency to let the others know.

  Isaiah could tell the moment Dalila had been taken off guard. He knew his brothers were intimidating—they were all big, himself included. Her back got a bit straighter, and she shifted her weight between first one leg and then the other. She was nervous.

  Good. Maybe now she’ll listen.

  Ω Ω Ω

  When she opened the bathroom door, she heard the voices, and still, it didn’t register that he was talking to others.

  Yup, I’m in way over my head.

  Three other men took up space in the front area. All equally big. Oxygen particles could be seen scrambling to share space with their presences. Her lungs attempted to force air to acknowledge them. Her eyes hurt from the savage beauty they represented, and static muffled all sound but her own breathing.

  She tried to speak, only the sound of a strangled mouse caught in a trap emerged from her lips. The one closest to her had black hair and dark turquoise eyes. Broad shoulders and a killer smile were all she had time to notice before he stepped directly to her, circling her like a hawk.

  “Hey, sugar, what’s shakin?” Whisky soaking up sugar. The wolf devouring the lamb. His voice was orgasm-inducing, and his eyes tracked her every movement. She almost swallowed her tongue. The guy was gorgeous. The tone of his words was deep and sweet, a fathomless pit filled with blackberries soaked in nectar. A slow fall into purple honey. She could almost taste his voice, even though their lips hadn’t met. He was that potent.

  “It’s okay, sugar, I have that effect on all the mortals. Once you go Raz, all others will be bad.” He gave her what she thought was his cockiest grin and then winked. Looking over his shoulder toward Isaiah, he cracked a grin. “Grey can wipe her after I’ve sampled her.” Before she could comprehend his meaning or decipher Isaiah’s reaction, the other guy was up against the wall, hanging by his feet.

  “Dalila is off-limits, Raz. Got it? Don’t you fucking touch her!” He shot a deadly glare toward the tallest of them. “I want you to wipe her clean, and don’t let this fucker anywhere near her.” The whole time, the one dangling by his feet kept staring in Dalila’s direction. And then he winked. Actually, winked at her. Upside down.

  “Wipe me?” The pitch in her voice bounced off the walls of the room, testing the foundation.

  “Aww, come on, Isaiah. She would be into me.” Dalila looked at the one Isaiah had called Raz and quickly looked away. They were all magnificent. The giant one over in the kitchen had his hip propped against the counter, his feet crossed at the ankles.

  He appeared to be relaxed, but Dalila could tell he could jump into action at a moment’s notice. He was hard and currish-looking. The eyes spoke to her first. Combustion. Explosive tendrils of heat that wafted in a choreographed dance, and hypnotic in a way that calmed her. Amber orbs pierced her. His black hair and deeply tanned skin made his eyes flare. He, too, had a collar with markings on it. Just beneath the collar, she could see the ink from a tat. Dalila wondered where those tatts led, but quickly, she shook the thought away. This one had a stop sign all over his body, with a heavy dose of fuck-off thrown in.

  There was another by the fireplace. He was leaner than the rest of them, but wore a collar like the others. His hair wasn’t exactly black, though it wasn’t quite brown either. His eyes were a disturbing violet. Electric violet. He didn’t look as lethal as the larger one, but he did have an air of danger about him.

  Raz’s eyes were turquoise. Right now, they almost looked emerald green, his hair black with auburn highlights. Mischievousness wafted off him, his eyes plotting some secret game that only he knew about. Dalila could tell he was a firecracker.

  “Isaiah.” Dalila sighed. “Please put...Raz—is that his name?” The one by the fireplace nodded. “Please put Raz down. Can someone tell me what the hell is going on around here?”

  Isaiah watched her over his shoulder, nodded, then let Raz slide to the floor. The male stood, adjusted his shirt, and flipped Isaiah the bird while taking a seat on the couch. He dragged his hands through his hair, winced, and then looked up at Dalila. When he did, the playfulness from earlier had vanished. In its place was an extremely cold, calculating man.

  The temperature in the room dropped at least ten degrees, and his eyes were back to being more turquoise than green. Isaiah took a step toward Dalila. In turn, she took a step back.

  “Please, have a seat. No one here is going to hurt you.” Melodious words wrapped around her body, caressed her ears, easing the worry in her gut. The male in the kitchen stood from his slouched position. His amber eyes tracked her movement, and his voice soothed her into submission, but her brain kicked back.

  She seriously doubted that she would not hurt after this experience. What could she do, though? If she tried to leave, she was as good as dead. She also had every intention of gathering information. Yesterday’s debacle was a thing of the past. How could she not question them? She’d been presented with a rare opportunity. She needed to take advantage.

  “I’m sure my brother has explained that it’s dangerous for you to leave on your own. The reason for the wipe is simple. We take your memories, and you can go back to the way your life was before all of this happened. It’s best for everyone,” Raz, explained. He sat forward with his elbows braced on his knees as if he needed to be at eye-level with her.

  “Best for everyone?” Now she was getting pissed. She was perfectly capable of deciding what was best for her, not them. Controlling-ass men and their acts of chivalry.

  She could hear Jared in her head, telling her what she could and could not do. She wanted to explode, rant and rave at the craziness of these men, who thought she’d be better off if she just did as they told her.

  Ha.

  She’d wait them out if she had to.

  They’re Warrior Angels, idiot. They can wait you out until your dying day. You’re mortal, they’re not.

  Dalila’s heart sank. Did she honestly want to be stuck with immortal babysitters? Dread rolled down her spine. Four men—four sinfully gorgeous men. Women dreamed about momen
ts like these. If only she felt the same. Right now, all she felt was caution.

  “Dalila, what Raz is saying is correct. You can’t know of our existence. You’ll be in more danger than you are even now,” Isaiah growled.

  “If you take my memories of this, I won’t know that I’m in danger. Thereby making it more dangerous for me and making me more vulnerable to whomever or whatever is a danger to me.”

  The men in the room looked at one another as if silently having their own conversation. After what seemed liked long minutes, the one with the violet eyes spoke. “We eliminate the danger, and then we wipe her. It’s as simple as that.” He looked straight at her, not blinking, not even smiling. He simply pierced her with his electric violet gaze.

  “When this is over, you will be wiped. Understand, mortal?”

  “Dalila...my name is Dalila. And your name is?”

  He didn’t even look in her direction as he spoke. “I don’t care what your name is. There is no reason for you to know mine, as you will not remember it when the time comes.” He fixed his icy stare on Isaiah.

  “Stop while you’re ahead of the game, brother. Way ahead of the game.” Violet Eyes walked over to the sliding glass door, and his black wings burst free. Gravel and dirt from the ground stirred in a mini vortex of air as he lifted off, soaring into the sky. There was a distinct sound as the air wavered, and then he was gone. Dalila must have had her mouth open because Raz chuckled.

  “Awesome, huh?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  Raz smirked. “You guess. Sure, try and pretend like you don’t wish you had awesome, wicked wings the color of night. But I know you do.”

  He pointed a finger in her face and then gently tapped her nose as he winked. “You want to fly just as much as the next mortal. It’s in your genetic makeup. Mortals always want what they can’t obtain. By any means necessary.” He flashed a boyish grin, a simple smile that held all kinds of secrets. Things she knew were likely dark and dirty. Sure, Dalila wanted to fly. Who wouldn’t want the opportunity to fly and soar toward the heavens? Life as she knew it officially sucked in Normalville.

  Isaiah paced the length of the living room and looked at his brother. Again, it looked like some internal conversation was going on between them. Grey nodded, and then Isaiah grabbed Dalila’s keys off the table.

  “We’re going to head back over to the state park and make sure that we haven’t left anything that Azazel can use to track her. I need to make sure he didn’t leave any clues behind, too. Anything at all.” He motioned with his head for her to follow.

  “Clothes. You said I’d have fresh clothes,” she squeaked. She was not going to wear the same thing she had worn yesterday.

  “Oh, right. Clothes.” Isaiah nodded toward Amber Eyes. There was a bit of disorientation, and then she was dressed in fresh clothing, a simple T-shirt and some form-fitting jeans. Dalila even had on fresh underclothes and socks, and a pair of sturdy boots. Isaiah looked her over, and Raz grinned.

  “Ready?” Isaiah asked.

  Too stunned to speak, she just nodded and followed him out to the car.

  Ω Ω Ω

  Dalila stepped out into the sun. Rays pierced her pupils, causing a steady ache in the backs of her eyes. She was returning to the park with Isaiah, while Raz and the others stayed behind. Violet Eyes didn’t like her, and if she weren’t mistaken, they were all Seraphim. Or as she remembered from her college world religion class, the Burning Ones. Warrior Angels that when inflamed could take on the strongest of armies. What was with the damn collars? She was too curious for her own good.

  Despite everything that had transpired over the last twelve hours, she was more interested in their history than her safety.

  It’s the geeky nerd in you.

  That’s what Lyric would have told her. Damn, she still needed to call her boss and loyal friend but given the whole showing-of-the-wings episode, she hadn’t had time. Lyric was the owner of Psyche and longtime friend.

  Dalila looked back to watch as Isaiah locked up and walked toward her. Even his stride was sexy; men like him had no business being out on the street.

  Not so much of a nerd to notice his manliness, are you?

  Hell, she wished she could land a man that looked as appetizing as he did. She banished that notion immediately. She was done with men. She would do as Isaiah and his brothers had asked. She’d stay put until this was over, but after that, Operation Start Over would take effect ASAP.

  For the sake of not going there, men were off the menu. Her diet would no longer include strong, virile, and hotter-than-hell men.

  You’ve never had that type of man, so how can they be off the menu?

  Fine, so they weren’t, they were just at the five-star restaurants she could never afford to eat at.

  Getting in her car, she immediately realized how small the space felt. Isaiah’s enormous body swallowed the entirety of her Bug. “Your mom must have fed you a lot of red meat growing up,” Dalila mumbled.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Sorry, you’re large.”

  “No, your car is too small,” he said.

  She started the car and pulled out of the driveway. Tongue-tied and not able to think of anything else to say, she blurted, “You sure are way out in the country. Is this even where you live, or is it your base of operations for whatever it is you and your brothers are searching for?” Small talk would make things comfortable for them. Although in Dalila’s case, it wasn’t working too well. She kept sneaking glances in his direction. He was one giant distraction.

  “This is where I sleep, but it is not my home.” He sounded annoyed.

  Now that she had time to consider the whole situation, it was exciting, sitting next to a real Angel, a Warrior Angel at that. Dalila hit the steering wheel in excitement. “I totally remember now what the collars are for.”

  Isaiah stared at her as if she were all kinds of creepy. Still, she continued. “You are warrior class Angels, but not like the Archangels. Higher. The collars are your service indicators until you meet your other half. Right? I can’t remember the whole story, but my friend, Lyric, the one I did the paper with, was fascinated with the lore behind the Burning Ones. We worked meticulously for hours on this project. She was specifically interested in what she called the burning period.”

  Damn, it felt fantastic to know what she was talking about. Putting her college education to use. Not a wasted education, after all. “I don’t remember all the symptoms or signs for the burning period, but I do remember reading how intense it is.”

  What she’d read about the burning period was that it was an intense bonding between the warrior and his mate. Myth. She remembered her professor stating that it was speculation only.

  “There wasn’t anything concrete written in any of the books I read on the subject. One book wrote that it was an intense feeling, that if the two partners became one, they would reach a new level of oneness so complete, they’d become one in all things. Mind. Body. Soul. Literally. Everybody should strive for that kind of relationship. Then again, it was all speculative…” Dalila’s voice trailed off as she realized that she was babbling. Had she said all of that out loud?

  “Sorry, I tend to vomit words when I’m nervous.” She cut a sideways look at Isaiah, who was still staring at her in shock. Isaiah scooted closer to the door—if that was even possible for a man of his size.

  I must reek or something…Shit! Morning breath, and I didn’t even roll the windows down.

  She quickly let in the fresh air, keeping her eyes on the road. She dug into her glove box for her gum. It wouldn’t totally get rid of her bad breath, but hopefully, it would no longer offend him. There hadn’t been anything she could use to clean her mouth with back at the farmhouse. Popping the gum into her mouth, she savored the spicy punch of cinnamon. Dalila moaned out loud.

  “What are you eating?” Isaiah asked.

  “Oh, Big Red. Sorry if I offended you with my morning breath.” She quickly
averted her gaze back to the road, too embarrassed to look at him now.

  “You didn’t offend me. Your fragrance is quite nice.”

  Coming to a red light, Dalila pulled to a stop. Isaiah leaned in close, inhaling her scent, taking a deep breath and then exhaling. Her pulse jumped. Was he truly that close to her? Smelling her? She gripped the steering wheel tighter, hoping it would calm her nerves, stop her from reaching out to rake her fingers through his jet-black hair.

  Nope, she wasn’t going there.

  “No, there’s no foul odor coming from your mouth or your body.” Hot breath scorched her skin. A car honked behind them, snapping her back to her senses. She continued to drive forward. Okay, he was in her face, maybe he was being affable. But, God, the effusion of him smelled like the air before a storm hit when you smelled the rain coming to wash away the stains, making everything clean, new, and beautiful.

  Too quiet, everything was too quiet. There was a reason people called these awkward silences. Isaiah had said there was a reason for everything. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “What’s your reason?”

  “My reason?” Isaiah asked.

  “Yeah. You said everything happens for a reason.” She tossed her hand out to encompass the space between them. “Your reason for being here, this moment, being in the car with me.” He sat back in his seat and brushed a hand through his hair.

  “Simple. I am here because I am searching for something. You are here because you got in the way. Do the math, and you will come to the same conclusion I did last night.”

  As if she would know how she’d ended up in his path. He was the celestial being, not her.

  “I didn’t ask you to hit my car last night, Isaiah. I didn’t ask to be held against my will, told I would die if I didn’t listen to your every word. And I sure as hell didn’t ask to be given a heavy dose of your day has careened into the Twilight Zone. So, fuck you very much.” She slapped a hand over her mouth before she could take back that last part and took a moment to gauge his reaction.

 

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