Dirty Angels

by May Dawson

  He began screaming. Suddenly two men launched themselves through the woods toward us, running at breakneck speed. I threw my second fireball and it caught one man's jeans, sending them ablaze, but I didn't have time to make a third fireball. I knelt again, hiding behind the wall. Fire. Fire. The heat was in my hands.

  He launched himself over the wall, tackling me. Something metal dug into my side, and I felt a buzz that turned into a burst of agony. My muscles contracted, jittering out of my control, cramping and tightening.

  Mom shoved him away from me. Her eyes were wide when they met mine, but I tried to push myself up to my feet, even though my muscles were still loopy and weak. My toes caught in the dirt and I launched myself up and at him, but my legs wouldn't hold me. I landed heavily on my knees.

  From my peripheral vision, I saw two more men running toward us. I glanced at them quickly, hoping like hell it was my guys.

  Nope. Company men.

  "I don't have to keep both of you alive," he said, drawing his gun from the holster inside his jacket.

  I raised my hand toward him. Fire.

  And suddenly the woods were ablaze.

  For a second, I thought it was my fault.

  The man who had just drawn his gun on us froze, looking toward the flames. And despite myself, despite knowing I should attack him while he was distracted, I found myself turning to look, too. It was eerie; it felt as if I were compelled to turn.

  There was a man on fire.

  But he wasn't a Company man. He stood tall and resolute, unfazed by the flames that licked across his skin and surrounded his glowing head.

  No, he wasn't on fire; he was fire.

  He stood tall—at least as tall as Jacob—and the sword in his hand was on fire, too. He looked at me, his eyes ablaze, and then turned and strode toward the man who still held a gun on me.

  The man who had intended to kill my mother stared at him slack-jawed, for a beat too long, and then suddenly realized he was in lethal danger. He turned the gun on the man-on-fire instead. He pulled the trigger frantically, the gun bucking with the recoil in his hand as he squeezed off the rounds as quickly as he could. They resounded in the woods, but the man on fire didn't even acknowledge them.

  The man-on-fire ran him through with the sword.

  As the man who had threatened us slid off the sword into a pile on the ground, the man on fire looked to me.

  "What are you?" I couldn't make sense of what he was. Although I was thankful he seemed to be on our side.

  "I'm an angel, you idiot child," he said.

  An angel. Like Jacob's father. And not just an angel, but a cranky asshole angel. It gave me pause. Could I imagine this man-on-fire running his hands over Wendy's tattooed arms as they kissed?

  The Company men had stopped, staring at him. He took one step toward them and they began to flee, running back through the woods. For a second, I thought he was going to let them run. Then he launched himself after them, a thread of flame through the woods. His passage left the leaves and branches untouched. The foliage not only didn't catch fire, they seemed not to move in his wake, as if his touch on this world were as light as a feather.

  Except for the men screaming in the woods.

  "We have to run," Mom said, offering me her hand up. "Angels are never good news."

  "They aren't all bad." I put my hand in hers, letting her help me up. My muscles still ached, my knee sore as ever. "Where are those men of mine?"

  My mother's eyebrows lifted. "Excuse me?"

  "We'll catch up later," I promised her. Together we limped out of the woods, trying to skirt the area where the angel was massacring the Company's men

  We were almost to the clearing when I heard the slow beating of wings behind us.

  The angel hung above the earth, his sword still in his hand, his fiery wings folding back toward his body. By the time his bare feet touched the ground, the wings were gone. The flames blinked out, too.

  Now in front of us was a handsome man. His face was untouched by age, unwrinkled, his skin flawless. Despite the fresh skin, his features looked like a mature, grown man's, with a wide jaw and a perfectly symmetrical face. He looked unnaturally beautiful. His eyes were like molten gold, bright and ever-shifting, and surely not a human's eyes.

  He still gripped the sword in one hand.

  He stared at us without speaking.

  A shiver ran up my spine. "Thanks for the save."

  He inclined his head slightly. "You're welcome. But nothing is free, so tell me, where is your demon?"

  "My demon?" I repeated. "I mean, I'm still pretty screwed up about losing my sister. And I do love hard lemonade, but I don't like to talk about that in front of my mom. Overall, I could probably use therapy, but I think my demons are under control."

  He took a slow step toward us. "Your demon. The one you consort with."

  "I wouldn't call it consorting." Whatever the hell that means. It wasn't something I was doing with Nimshi.

  He took another step forward, and even though he was no longer ablaze, I felt the heat off his body from here. "I have no fight with you. But I intend to have that demon."

  "I don't know where he is."

  "I don't believe you, child." He took another step toward me, but somehow it brought him impossibly close to me. He towered over both my mom and me.

  "Get away from her."

  It was Ryker's voice, low and harsh. I glanced past the terrifying angel to see my Ryker. The quick flash of joy and relief I felt seeing him alive was overwhelmed by fear as he staggered. He had one arm tucked across his bloody chest, his sword held low in the other hand.

  The angel turned to face him. "More idiot children," he muttered. More loudly, he said, "My quarrel is not with you, child of woman. I seek..."

  "I know," Ryker interrupted the angel. "You're looking for Nimshi, the half-demon? Trust me, I'd give him to you. But I don't know where he is."

  Ryker came to a stop. I could see he was weak with blood loss, but even so, he looked past the angel to me. When our eyes met, he winked.

  "Everything's going to be okay, Firestarter," Ryker promised.

  "I appreciate your optimism," the angel said. He turned to me. "Call your demon."

  "He's a half-demon," I said. "Half human. And he's not mine."

  "You give yourself away," the angel said. "You care for him."

  Levi broke out of the trees, breathing hard, and came to an abrupt stop. He had his sword in one hand and his gun in the other, but he skid to a stop, staring at the angel. Then he looked at me. His eyes were shrewd and calculating, as if he were gauging just what it would take to get me out of there safely and away from this angel.

  "It's nothing personal," I said. "I'm just a cuddly Care Bear kind of human being. Now, we're going to walk out of here, and you're going to watch us go."

  Golden eyes met mine evenly. "No."

  "I'm God's special project, remember?" I said. "I don't think He'd appreciate you threatening me very much."

  He cocked his head slightly to one side. "God abandoned us both a long time ago, Lilith."

  "I don't believe that," I said.

  "If you won't call the demon," he said, "You're no use to me."

  "Zuriel." Jacob called from the edge of the clearing, his voice rough. He, too, held his bloodied sword lightly, out to one side at the ready. In his free hand, he held a fireball like mine, but it was a bright blue.

  Zuriel turned to face Jacob. "Is that how you greet your father? With a threat?" His lips quirked up just slightly, taking in the blue fireball. "And an ineffectual one at that?"

  "I knew it," I muttered.

  "Let them go," Jacob said. "She doesn't know how to summon the demon. She has nothing to do with him."

  "You've all sullied yourselves," Zuriel said. "Leaving him alive. How any son of mine—"

  "I'm no son of yours," Jacob interrupted.

  These men of mine were apparently pretty fearless about being rude to powerful beings.

/>   "True," Zuriel said. "You're nothing to me."

  Jacob watched his father, his eyes full of hate. The fireball blazed in his hand.

  Zuriel's eyes turned back to me, his gaze cold. "Call your demon. Or I'll start with him."

  "Nothing doing."

  "Ellis..." my mom hissed. Apparently she was on Team-Humor-The-Scary-Angel.

  The angel was gone in a second, and cool air swept over my skin; for the first time, I realized just how much heat he had thrown off.

  Jacob whirled, throwing the blue flame at him. The angel moved so quickly I could see nothing but a shiver of gold through the trees. Then Zuriel's sword was at Jacob's throat. Zuriel winced. His sleeve seemed to be on fire with blue flame, but he shook it off, the flames dying down as if they were nothing but an inconvenience.

  "Call your demon," Zuriel said again, because apparently he was a bad listener and hadn't heard me say that Nimshi was neither mine nor wholly demon. "Or this time, I will not falter."

  "I don't know how to do what you're asking me to do! And I don't know where he is."

  "I do," said a new voice.

  Nimshi was behind Zuriel. I hadn't even seen him move, too distracted by the bright blade at Jacob's throat.

  Zuriel twisted to see Nimshi, too, just as Nimshi drove a dagger into his side.

  The angel's mouth twisted in anger. He reached out for Nimshi. That meant the sword dropped from Jacob's throat.

  Nimshi ducked under Zuriel's arm, already pushing Jacob ahead of him. Together, the two of them raced toward Ryker and Levi. I grabbed my mom's arm, all of us running for the clearing as the angel took one step and landed heavily on his knees.

  Behind us, I heard the angel roar in frustration as he wrestled with the dagger in his side, trying to draw it out.

  "It's poisoned," Nimshi said shortly. "But it won't hold him long. It gives us just a few minutes."

  "Demon magic," Jacob said, his jaw set.

  "You shouldn't be complaining," Nimshi said.

  The six of us loped across the field toward the FBI van. Its doors still stood open. A dead man lay halfway between the trees and the van.

  "This is all a colossal disaster," Ryker said. He kept falling behind slightly, and Levi stayed with him, urging him on to the truck. "I hope the Company has a clean-up crew ready."

  "I think maybe we killed them all," Jacob said. "Between us and... him."

  "There are always more mercs," Ryker said.

  As we reached the FBI van, Levi threw himself into the driver's seat. Jacob glanced back at the tree line and then dug into the side of the van with his sword, scratching a rune into the metal, frantically muttering in Latin.

  Ryker groaned as he climbed up into the van, but that didn't stop him from turning to offer a hand back to my mom, who climbed in behind him, looking dazed.

  "Smart," Nimshi said, watching what Jacob was doing for just a second. He caught me with a hand on my wrist. "You can always summon me, you know. Call my name and I'll come find you."

  My wrist burned under his touch. I jerked it away, turning my wrist over to find a still-smoking tattoo, a single Hebrew letter. N.

  "You're not my demon, despite what that demented angel thought," I said heatedly. "And I'm not yours. Take it off."

  He shook his head. "I want to make sure you're safe. If you won't call when you need me..."

  Jacob finished the incantation and glanced back toward the tree line. Zuriel hadn't burst out after us yet, but we all expected it soon. "Argue in the van. Let's move."

  "I'm never going to need you," I said. My wrist still burned. "I just wanted to protect you from them and from the angel because—"

  Nimshi grinned as if I'd admitted more than I said. "Because why?"

  "Because I want to kill you myself," I said, even though I didn't mean it.

  And he knew it damn well, because he was still smirking at me. "Once again. Sorry for the trouble, sweetheart."

  Jacob swung into the car. "Let's move," he said again impatiently.

  Zuriel flew out of the tree line, a golden blur zooming over the grass.

  Jacob grabbed my wrist, yanking me into the car. "Let's not die today, Princess."

  "I'll hold him off," Nimshi promised, just before he slammed the van door shut.

  Levi slammed down on the accelerator, and we took off fishtailing through the field and back toward the road.

  "We can't leave him!" I shouted. I found myself sprawling across the floor as the van took a hard turn.

  "Demon might as well make himself useful," Ryker muttered.

  "He's your brother!" I said.

  Ryker shook his head slightly.

  Behind us, blue arched across the field.

  I got my sore knee underneath me, launching myself off the floor and to the door. Just as I got my fingers around the handle, Jacob tackled me. I struggled against his powerful arms folded around me, kicking and fighting him, as he dragged me up into a seat with him. He held me tight against his hard chest.

  "We would all die for you," he said, his voice low and sure in my ear. "It seems it's no different for him. Don't waste the one gift he could give you."

  It wasn't a gift that I wanted. Not from any of my boys.

  14

  "Can you get it off?" I demanded of Jacob, holding out my wrist to show him.

  His brows knit together as he stared down at the tattoo. He rubbed his thumb over it, as if he couldn't believe it were there. My skin was red and sore where the mark was, and I winced at his gentle touch. "I can try."

  "Not yet," I said, pulling my wrist out of his grip. "I do want to call him. Once. To make sure he survived."

  "I thought you wanted to help him," Jacob said, cocking his head to one side.

  "I think if we can help him redeem his soul, we should."

  "You send a hell of a mixed message, Firestarter," Ryker said. "Since you just threatened to kill him back there. Which, I have to say, that's my girl."

  "I threatened him because he tattooed me without my consent," I said. "Maybe with a soul, he wouldn't be such an asshole."

  "Look around you," Levi said, his eyes still on the road. "I wouldn't hold out high hopes."

  My mom cleared her throat loudly. She sat on one of the van's benches, properly seat-belted in, and as prim as ever. Her sneakers and knees were both pressed together demurely, her hands folded in her lap, the way she had taught me to sit. Or tried to, anyway.

  "Mom," I said. "These are my Hunters. Levi is the one driving. The broken one is Ryker." I reached out and slapped Ryker on the shoulder. He grunted faintly. I guessed that hurt. "And this is Jacob."

  "The angel's son," My mother repeated it like she was still trying to come to terms with the idea.

  "I'd hardly call myself his son," Jacob said. "But I suppose he is the reason I'm the best-looking and most powerful brother."

  "With that divine modesty, too." I quirked an eyebrow at him. "Don't you ever tackle me again."

  "I promise only to tackle you when you're trying to do something idiotic," Jacob said. "So it's all up to you, really."

  "It was the wrong thing to do, leaving him." I looked back through the rear window. There was a quiet road behind us.

  "Zuriel shouldn't be able to follow us," Jacob said. "Angels can track people. They have a stronger version of Ryker's projection, but he can't track us as long as the ward on the car holds. The house is warded, too."

  I flashed back to his agony in my mom's house, when the wards that were up impacted him, too. "But that means you..."

  "I can live without some of my powers at the house," Jacob said. "I'm still the most badass."

  "You're still the most annoying," Ryker muttered.

  Jacob leaned forward between the seats, looking Ryker over closely. Even from here, I could see that Ryker was pale and sweating.

  "Go away," Ryker said, shoving Jacob back. Or trying to, anyway; he didn't succeed in doing anything more than making Jacob raise an eyebrow.

  "H
e needs you," Jacob said, turning back to me.

  "I'm fine," Ryker said.

  "Don't try to be a hero," Jacob said. "You're losing a lot of blood. Ellis will be fine... I can charge her up if she needs it. I didn't take much damage back there."

  "It's weird," Ryker muttered. "Her mom is here."

  "Well, don't die for awkward," Levi said.

  "Come on, I can sew you up back here if Levi promises not to slam on the brakes." Jake gestured Ryker into the back of the van. "Then Ellis can work her magic."

  "I'm not getting sewn up in the back of a moving van," Ryker grumbled. "Give me the quick-clot and leave me alone."

  "Your abs will still look cute," Levi said. "Ellis, tell him."

  Jacob, grumbling, searched through the medical kit. He handed Ryker a white packet. Ryker ripped it open. Ryker gritted his teeth before dumping it into the wound. A chemical scent, almost like burning flesh, filled the car. He hissed out loud in pain.

  "Great," Jacob dead-panned. "Now get in the back and let Ellis do her thing."

  I bit down on my lip, feeling the flush in my cheeks. Of course I wanted to help Ryker, but the thought of kissing a boy while my mom tried to stare out the window and ignore us was agonizing.

  Jacob met my eyes, his eyes widening, jerking his head to one side to indicate Ryker.

  I shook my head. I would do anything for Ryker, but he didn't want my kisses now. Just thinking about the way I'd embarrassed myself in the dojo, with my hands on his belt buckle and his gentle rejection, made heat rise to my cheeks.

  Jacob's eyes were on mine as he said, "Ellis' mom? Can we talk frankly?"

  "No," I answered for her. "This is a long conversation that's best held back at the house—"

  "Your daughter is a reincarnated Lilith. That's why everyone wants to kill her." Jacob began.

  I thought of my mom's posters and print-outs hanging all over her bedroom wall, and I knew she knew something. But I didn't know what she'd put together. I was dying to find out. I wanted to know how she knew that Ash's death wasn't my fault.

  "So anyway, as part of the reincarnated Lilith deal, we're her team. Her guys. We would all die to protect her, we all love her fiercely—even if some of our manners are a little lacking—" Jacob clapped his hand on Ryker's shoulder. "And she can heal us. But it takes contact. Would it bother you terribly if she kept Ryker from bleeding to death? It's a nice van, it would be a shame to ruin the seats."