Angel Seduced

by Jaime Rush

  Their mouths were so close, if either of them moved forward, they’d be kissing again. She could sense him holding back, reining in a powerful urge.

  She moved back an inch, and gods, his eyes were like black ice. “What did it say?”

  “‘Use me.’ It wanted me to release it. I didn’t, and I got my ass handed to me. I’m going to release it. Because it’s all I have now.”

  “No, Kasabian. Don’t do it.”

  “And when I release it, you cannot be anywhere near me. Because it wants you.”

  That statement coiled through her, scary and seductive at once. “Why? Why me?”

  “Because I want you. The desire I thought I’d stuffed deep inside me came awake when we met. And so did this thing inside me.”

  “There were tons of beautiful women at the bar, all drooling over you. They were easy.”

  “I didn’t want anyone.” He moved his hand in small circles across her stomach, his fingers leaving dizzying trails of their own. “Their desire was pleasantly painful, yes, like a dull ache. You made me feel different. From that first time I saw you, I’ve been obsessed with you.”

  “I became obsessed with you, too, that night. Despite your warning. Maybe because of it.”

  “You’re a beautiful and sensual creature, and your guarded smile made me want to get past your walls. Just doing this”—he trailed his hand lower, his thumb slipping beneath the waistband of her pants—“starts an inferno inside me.” He brushed his cheek against hers, the slight rasp of his stubble rubbing her skin. His mouth moved against her ear. “And if I fuck you, I’ll feel like I own you. And trust me, you don’t want me to feel that way. Now that my angel is gone, I’m all Shadow.”

  Maybe he thought the raw word would repulse her. And it should. Instead it rocked through her. “You say it as though I don’t have a choice.”

  He slid his hand all the way into her panties, palming her mound. Her breath caught as his finger slid into her folds and brushed her clit. “Do you have a choice, love?” His finger moved farther down, sliding over her opening. “You’re wet for me.”

  All the control she’d held so carefully fell away at his touch, along with that endearment. He stroked her, sending shock waves to her core. Yes, that controlled part of her shouted, while her body melted against him. Control. It meant everything to her, the ability to shut off her feelings, to protect her ability. And herself. It took every ounce of strength to push him away. She stumbled on weak legs toward the door. How could she become so compliant, so lustful?

  His chuckle was low and soft, even as his eyes shone black. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s the Shadow. The faster you break this bond, the sooner you get your life, your control, and your magick back. And the safer you’ll be. Go, Kye. And don’t let me touch you again.”

  Chapter 8

  Silva stood beside the man he considered his father—even if he never spoke the word—as the Caidos arrived for an impromptu meeting in the courtyard. Like a king and his son, the two of them hovered above the gathering men from the balcony of Treylon’s suite. Except a real prince would know what the meeting was about.

  Treylon turned to Silva, his voice low. “Hayden Masters, one of the Caido boys who escaped with Kasabian, has been investigating missing children. The boy who escaped stirred his interest; probably Hayden discovered they have the same mark. For now he’s been circumvented, but he’ll need watching. I don’t like trouble when we’re this close to our goal. Demis says the others are having trouble as well, but damn it, I don’t want to be part of the problem. I want to be the solution.”

  Treylon didn’t just want it, as far as Silva could tell. He ached to be the one to release the curse and prove that he was a valuable member of Caido society. Ironically, he didn’t consider that the people in his life might feel the same need to feel valued.

  Demis, the fallen angel from whom Treylon had descended, would not deign to talk to Silva, even when Treylon hadn’t been there. Another conversation Silva had been left out of. He, with his sketchy background, had no idea which angel was his forebear. But they were all bastard children when it came down to it.

  Demis was one-third of the unlikely alliance that was the Tryah—angel, Deuce god, and Dragon god. Treylon didn’t like when Silva reminded him that the Tryah had tried to obliterate Crescents by inciting a war on the island more than three hundred years ago. Recently, they had hatched a scheme to free the tethered gods, enlisting the help of the very Crescents they had once been willing to kill. Demis was sure that if the angels were released, the Caidos’ curse would end. But his promise to those who helped was greater and more definite: to bestow both immortality and power beyond anything they’d ever conceived.

  If the gods could be trusted.

  Silva had found no one in life who could be trusted completely. But he wasn’t doing this for the power, since he had plenty of that. What he ached for was acceptance and respect. He wanted Treylon to see him as an equal, a valuable asset.

  Treylon gave him a dark look. “Don’t do anything else to botch this up.”

  Sure, remind him again of how he’d nearly ruined everything a few weeks ago, all to procure a newborn. “You’re the one who’s getting desperate, pushing everyone. I took a chance, and it backfired. But it turned out all right in the end. Only my name was implicated, and since I do not legally exist, no one can find me. Or trace me to you.” Silva raised his arms to encompass everything in front of him. “And we are here, in this beautiful place.”

  “Our benefactor had to relocate guests to accommodate us. My connection in the Concilium had to do a quick cover-up. I don’t like needing help.”

  “But you do need help, from me.” Silva gestured to the Caidos below who had put their lives on hold to assist him. “And them.”

  Treylon’s mouth tightened. “I mean from my peers.”

  Ah, the Caidos here worked for him, not with him. Even Silva, who had been with him the longest. It would have to be enough to know that the old man needed him, even if he never voiced it. Or thanked him. But it was hard not to resent being given little credit for his loyalty.

  Treylon headed downstairs to the courtyard, where twenty Caidos now formed a line military-style. Most of these men, in their late teens and early twenties, had been culled from the streets as Silva had so long ago. Treylon made sure they all felt as though they owed him a debt of gratitude. Servitude. Each bore the mark on their chest as a result.

  Silva traded a look with Gren, who was clearly curious about the impromptu meeting. He’d been curious about Kasabian, too, jealous that Silva wanted to keep the man whose name he’d called out once in the heat of ecstasy.

  Treylon clasped his hands behind him. “A boy escaped yesterday and ended up at the Guard. Fortunately, one of our people alerted me and our contact made sure that he was extracted before he could tell them anything. He is now recuperating and will return to us before our deadline, to assist us in our task.”

  Treylon’s cold eyes assessed the group. “Someone here allowed that boy to escape.” Though his voice appeared calm, a deadliness edged his words. “Someone jeopardized the entire program. I want that person to speak up now. I will show you mercy if you confess.”

  The men glanced at one another, shifting nervously. No one spoke.

  Treylon walked from man to man, spending several seconds staring into each of their eyes. He paused in front of Beldeen. “I know it was you.”

  Beldeen’s face blanched. “No, sir, I—”

  “You flinched when I first mentioned it. And now your expression gives you away. Tell me why you released the boy.”

  Beldeen swallowed hard. “He was so ill. I memory-locked him so he could not tell anyone where he’d come from. I couldn’t bear his suffering anymore, and you would not let up. I’m sorry.”

  Treylon released a long breath. “You gave in to your nature. It is understandable. But not forgivable.” He slapped his hand over Beldeen’s face. The Light that came from h
is palm melted his face. There was only one scream, terribly short, and then blood and flesh dripped down the man’s shoulders and chest. He collapsed.

  “You said you would show him mercy,” one of the others stammered, stumbling away from the body.

  “That was mercy. He did not suffer much, now, did he?” He surveyed the rest of the group. “Does anyone have any other concerns?”

  Silva saw Gren’s eyes shift away, and in that moment, he knew that he would tell Treylon about Kasabian’s visit so that he could move to a higher position in the group. They had shared their bodies, but not a real bond. They only used each other. Gren’s mouth parted, and his hand began to rise.

  Silva sent a black whip at him. It wrapped around Gren’s neck, strangling the words he wanted to utter. Gren clutched at the whip, his face nearly purple.

  Treylon turned to Silva, still calm. “The reason for this?”

  “He’s a traitor,” Silva said. He jerked Gren to his knees. “I saw him sneaking around the grounds earlier. I knew he was up to something. I believe he may have been working with Beldeen. They’re lovers, you know.”

  Gren shook his head, but the only sounds he could make were grunts.

  “I want to hear what he has to say,” Treylon said, stepping closer to Gren. “Release him.”

  Silva snapped the whip, and Gren’s head fell from the stump of his neck. His body followed, pouring blood onto the pristine white stones. “He was trying to send his Light into me. I had to end him.”

  The other Caidos had moved away from Gren, but their horrified gazes remained on the body. They would take the warning well.

  “Clean this up,” Treylon ordered no one in particular. “Take them to the interment room.” He spun and stalked away.

  They would not be interred properly, however. A dead Caido had to be sealed away in a holy crypt within twenty-four hours of death or he would turn into a wraith. Wraiths came in handy when one could control them. Silva smiled briefly, but anxiety quickly returned. He followed Treylon. Did he suspect something? Why had he wanted to hear Gren’s last words?

  “They were necessary kills,” Silva said, coming up beside him.

  “Now we are shorthanded. The solar storm erupts today. That means we have two days before the waves reach us. If we aren’t prepared, we will fail.” He paused just inside the doorway of the building. “We have worked a long time to make this happen. It will be a longer time before another storm of this magnitude hits. How are you doing on the new recruits?”

  “I have a call in to Gemini.”

  Treylon grunted. “You deal with him. I’ve implemented the other part of the plan.”

  “The one I told you about?” Yes, damn it, he wanted credit.

  Without warning, Treylon’s hand was around Silva’s throat, his thumb pulsing over his carotid artery. “Never use your power in front of the others without my permission again. You may have dark power, but I have old power. Do not make me use it.”

  Humiliation washed over Silva, followed by rage. It rose within him, eager to annihilate the old man.

  My father. Can’t kill my father.

  Silva nodded his acquiescence even as he hated himself for it. Treylon released him and walked away, so unafraid of Silva’s power that he left his back unprotected. Better to consider it trust rather than arrogance.

  He flexed his hand, watching the black talons stretch from his fingertips. Killing Gren had fed the monster within. Unfortunately, it wasn’t sated. Instead, it was as hungry as ever. He fed it images of Kasabian, bound and helpless.

  Just wait. You’ll have what you want soon.

  Treylon stepped into the lobby of the alternative healing building where Kye Rivers had her counseling office. The building also housed massage therapists, intuitive readers, and other types of Deuce healers. But probably no one who could help him the way Kye could.

  He approached the young lady at the reception desk. “I have an appointment with Kye Rivers.”

  “Oh, didn’t you get the message? I’m so sorry. I tried to catch all of her appointments. She’s having…technical difficulties and is not taking any appointments for the next couple of days. I’m happy to reschedule.” She started clicking keys at the computer.

  He had gotten the message. He’d just chosen to ignore it. “I really need to talk to her. Desperately,” he added, holding her gaze. “And perhaps I can help her as well.”

  The woman hesitated, but she was caught up in the Thrall and merely nodded. “I’ll ask her.” She disappeared down the hallway, returning a few minutes later. “She’ll be right out.”

  He wandered the lobby, pretending to look at the pictures of waterfalls and sunrises. Silva had relayed Kasabian’s revelation about this woman’s ability to inure Caidos to the pain of their lovers’ emotions. Treylon found the idea interesting indeed. Thus protected, Caidos could channel even more essence without burning out. He was under so much pressure to fill the vessel, ensuring that it would be ready in time. The effort was particularly hard on the children, but even the adults were showing signs of fatigue. And at the critical time when the solar storm hit, he needed all of his Caidos in fully functioning mode if they hoped to free the angels.

  Kye Rivers’s supposed technical difficulties worried him.

  A tall blonde with a tennis player’s physique came down the hallway. For a sensual Deuce, she was dressed modestly in blue pants and a beige pleated top. She held out her hand, then let it drift down when she saw he was Caido. “Hello, I’m Kye.” So she knew that Caidos didn’t touch others. Did she know why? She must, to have developed such magick.

  “I’m Carl Wallen. Thank you for seeing me.”

  “As the receptionist told you, I’m afraid my magick is on the fritz right now.” This concerned her greatly. He could both feel and see it on her beautiful face. “But we can certainly talk.”

  Once they were settled in her office, he got right to the point. “I understand that you’ve developed a magick called the Cobra. I am very interested.”

  Her expression fell. “I have, but it’s not available to the general Caido public yet. It’s not even supposed to be known to the general public.”

  “M’dear, you don’t think something like this will stay quiet for long, do you?”

  She frowned. “I suppose not. I’m just not ready to start fielding requests yet. I want to keep it on the down low until I see some consistency with the side effects in my trials.”

  “Don’t worry, Kasabian told me in confidence. I will keep it as such.”

  “Kasabian?” She nearly spit the name out. “You know him, then?”

  “For a long time. How well do you know him?”

  According to Silva, Kasabian had a crush on her but didn’t intend to act on it.

  She shrugged. “Not that well, actually.”

  “Please don’t be upset with him for telling me. In fact, I’d rather you not say anything at all. He only said something because he’s aware of my situation. Tell me about the mechanism of your magick. How does the Cobra work?”

  Her mouth pursed as though weighing her words, deciding whether to trust him or not. She’d reacted to Kasabian’s name, but would that influence her to help or to evict him from her office? He contemplated abducting her. Oh yes, he had ways of making a Crescent talk…

  After several seconds, she heaved a deep breath. “The process is a continuation of the Essex. I’m a Zensu Deuce, and it allows me to harness certain…energies…better than other Deuces, whose powers are better suited to different spells. My magick acts as a conduit that allows a Caido and non-Caido to make the Essex permanent.”

  “So the Caido’s essence is balanced all the time, and his lover’s emotions do not harm him?” When she nodded, he said, “Interesting. You mentioned side effects.”

  “All the emotions the Caido has ever repressed are released, which totally overwhelmed one Caido. And the two lovers are bonded.” Something about that aspect bothered her. “And it has, in two instanc
es, unearthed lost memories. I have performed it only five times.” She briskly rubbed her arms. “But as I said, I can’t do anything right now.”

  “And that upsets you greatly.” He softened his voice and tilted his head. “I pick up a lot of turmoil. And heartache. Is that what’s causing your impairment?”

  She hesitated for another long moment, then nodded. “It’s always been a problem.”

  “Perhaps I can help. Did you know that Caidos can heal emotional trauma?”

  Her eyes widened. “That’s right. You can take away heartache.”

  He felt a rush of hope from her. “Tell me about this person who has broken your heart.”

  She paused again, obviously not comfortable sharing personal information. “He’s a…Deuce. A player who broke his promises.” She wasn’t going to elaborate by the way she turned away from him. “A mistake. Is your healing permanent? Will I just…forget about him? Not feel anything for him?”

  Ah, he’d found the right enticement. “It will, though having any kind of interaction can reignite all those feelings. Perhaps if I heal your heartache, your abilities will return. And you can help me.”

  “I’m not sure healing my heartache will help in my particular situation.” She rubbed at her collarbone for a moment. “You want me to perform the Cobra for you and your lover?”

  “Yes, but for an unconventional reason.” One that would be more likely to endear her to his request. “My Deuce lover is dying of cancer.”

  “Cancer? That’s unusual for a Crescent.”

  “I’m afraid she’s done the Essex with me too many times over the years, and it’s sapped her magick. And made her prey to human frailty. I wish for us to be bonded so I can take some of her pain. I cannot heal her with my magick, and I’m afraid she doesn’t have much time left. Maybe if my essence is permanently inside her, it will cure her. I’m sure that’s untested, but you are my only hope.”

  He didn’t need his Thrall to lure her; his expression of pain touched the compassion he sensed inside her, along with her need to help others.