All for You

by Dana Marie Bell

  Damien rolled his eyes. “Asshole.”

  “Testa di cazzo.”

  Damien glared at Dante, who grinned and gave him the finger. But their antics distracted Gabriel, who sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Children.”

  The two settled down, Damien returning to his computer and Dante to staring out the window.

  “Seth.”

  He winced. That intense regard could be disconcerting, especially when Gabriel was displeased with you. His mother said his name in that exact tone whenever he’d done something wrong. “Yes, sir?”

  “Any news?”

  The Double Trouble Team shared a glance, then Dante gave Seth a thumbs-up. “Go for it.”

  Go for what? “Ah. The Shem we hunted last night said he’d been paid to find Abby, but he refused to name his employer. He also told us his job was to watch, not harm.”

  Gabriel nodded, the displeasure turning back to Dante and Damien. “And you couldn’t tell me this?”

  Dante shrugged. “It’s Seth’s assignment.”

  “We wanted him here before we gave you the update.” Damien didn’t even look up from his computer screen, but Seth could see the guilty flush working its way across his cheeks.

  “Thanks, guys. I’m touched. Really. And just so you know, you’re both dickheads.” Dante had called them all testa di cazzo enough times that they all knew what it meant.

  Dante chuckled. “Yeah, we know, but we’re your dickheads.”

  “God help us all.”

  Seth laughed at Gabriel’s quiet mutter. The angel didn’t make jokes often, so it was surprising when he did.

  “Seth, you’re in a prime position to guard Abby. Consider that your assignment. Focus on keeping her from harm, and let the others do the investigating.” Seth nodded, and those violet eyes turned on Damien, who suddenly lost all interest in his computer. “Find out who the employer was, and barring that, find out why a Shem would be interested in not immediately feeding off a human. There’s some kind of payment trail—money, blood, souls. Find it and follow it.”

  Shemyaza fed off of humans, hunted them for blood, emotions. Souls. If a Shem was hunting Abby, then it wasn’t because of her big, amber-colored eyes or her pretty red hair.

  The Shem would devour her, destroy her. And the Neph existed to stop them.

  Damien nodded once. It was as good as done.

  “Dante.”

  Dante practically saluted.

  “Find out if anyone in Abby’s family has had dealings with the Shem. It’s possible she’s a pawn in a larger game, which is why she’s under watch. Damien can assist you if it goes back further than a generation or two. Maybe there’s a connection that we’re missing.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Damien glanced up from his computer screen. “Do you think this has anything to do with her psycho ex?”

  Seth grimaced. Just the thought of what Abby had suffered through was enough to make him want to growl. “I have no idea, but it’s worth checking out. We need to find out if Douglas Finley is a Shem or not. If so, his ass is currently in jail. That might be why he hired someone to follow her.”

  Dante nodded once, crisply. “I’m on it.”

  Seth tilted his head. It was oddly quiet in the mansion. Half of Gabriel’s cell, the Neph that guarded the state of Delaware, lived in Gabriel’s compound, their hunt for the Shem their full-time jobs. Only Seth, Piotr, Damien and Dante had chosen to live apart, and their brothers had never understood it. Still, it was odd not to have Rafe, Sasha, Zeke or Micah underfoot. “Gabriel? Where is everyone else?”

  Gabriel froze for just a second. “Out on assignment.”

  Okay. Seth knew better than to push. Gabriel would tell them what was going on when he was ready, and not before.

  Those violet eyes met his. “Keep her safe, but remember. Our first priority is the Shemyaza. Do what you must.”

  Seth lowered his eyes so Gabriel wouldn’t see the lie in them. “Yes, sir.”

  * * *

  Abby opened the front door with a greeting that barely passed her lips.

  Seth was standing right behind Trish, looking so yummy she almost drooled.

  “Are you going to let us in? It’s freezing out here.” Bill elbowed his way past her, his sense of big-brother privilege kicking in.

  “Abby, you remember I invited Seth tonight, right?” Trish elbowed her in the stomach in a move so subtle, it could be seen from orbit.

  “Sure I do.” Not. She darted a quick glance at Trish, who looked like she was trying very hard to hold back her laugh. She considered strangling her sister-in-law on the spot, but decided not to. Bill might miss her.

  She opened the door wider. “Come on in. Dinner will be ready soon.” She smiled at the group in general as they filed in. She cleared her throat, hoping to dislodge the daddy of all bullfrogs currently sitting right in the middle.

  Lord, have mercy. Seth wore a tight pair of blue jeans designed solely to showcase his incredible ass. The soft gray button-up hugged his chest and abs, highlighting the gray in his eyes. She managed to notice all of that in a lightning-quick glance, too terrified to keep her eyes on him for longer than a few seconds.

  She ushered him in and hoped she wasn’t about to make a complete fool of herself. If she survived tonight, she’d decide whether or not Trish got to live to see morning.

  “So, what’s for dinner?” Trish asked. She gave Abby a thumbs-up when Seth’s back was turned.

  Abby did her best to ignore the insane woman. Trish was one of those people who got an idea in her head and immediately acted on it. It had gotten her into trouble more than once, but her heart was in the right place, and she rarely did something to deliberately hurt someone. This time was no exception. “Fajitas. Chicken and steak.”

  Abby handed around four glasses of sangria, smiling as Seth took a cautious sip. His brows rose in pleasant surprise before he took another, bigger sip.

  Dear God, she hoped her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

  “I’m stunned. You? Making Mexican? Say it ain’t so.” Bill laughed as Abby blew him a raspberry. “What was it you made last time?”

  Abby picked up her glass, took a sip and smiled at him. “Shrimp enchiladas.”

  “Oh, yeah. Shrimp. My least favorite food in the entire world, next to liver and onions.”

  Abby toyed with the stem of her glass, watching the light play in the red wine, and shrugged. Her hands were shaking, but focusing on teasing her brother instead of drooling over Seth was helping. “Give me some salsa, a little cheese, liver, onions and taco shells, and I think you’ve got a meal.”

  Bill shuddered. “Ugh. Don’t even try it.”

  Abby batted her lashes at her brother. “Would I be that mean?”

  “Yes.”

  Trish laughed as Bill gagged dramatically. “Now you have to make them.”

  Bill glared over at his wife. “I hate you, woman.”

  Trish made kissy faces at her husband, who pulled her into his arms and clamped a hand over her mouth. “You make me liver and onions and I’ll tell Mom about those Playgirls you hid when you were fifteen.”

  Abby snorted. Now she was certain her face was beet red. “Please. Like Mom doesn’t know about that.”

  Seth coughed. “Bill, you shouldn’t blackmail your sister.”

  Trish squirmed free of her husband’s hold. “Yeah, you shouldn’t blackmail your sister.”

  “Especially since you told me where you hid your Playboys when you were fifteen.” Seth winked at Abby over the rim of his glass.

  “Busted.” Abby snickered behind her hand.

  “Totally.” Seth held out his glass, and Abby clicked hers against it. A tingly feeling rushed through her at the warmth in his expression.

  She’d never have guessed that she’d bond with her dream man over nudie magazines, but hey, whatever worked. She led the way into the kitchen, curious to find out what kind of bonding could occur over fajitas.

 
* * *

  Huh. This was his first visit to her home, and her town house wasn’t anything like what he’d anticipated. He’d expected cool and serene, not the chaotic, rich colors that dominated Abby’s living room and kitchen. Her home showed a warm, inviting woman lived within it, and he liked what he saw.

  The rust-colored sofa and cream oversize armchairs were complemented by the walnut coffee table with its top of broken, brightly colored mosaic tiles. The walls were painted an amber color that reflected the light of the pierced tin lamps that were hung all over the room, the rich walnut moldings accenting the golden tones. Above her small fireplace was a painting of a Mexican fiesta, all night shadows, bright colors and gleaming lanterns. Her kitchen was equally warm with rust-and-amber-striped fabrics on the chairs, amber walls and Mexican-style pottery lined up on top of the dark cabinets. The slate tile blended seamlessly in with the café-au-lait-colored carpet. Little touches of turquoise and aqua were the only cool spots in the entire town house. It was nothing like the pale blue and white decor that Fiona had preferred. When he tried to picture Abby in his home, he found he couldn’t do it.

  All in all, fire seemed to suit Abby much better than ice.

  She was certainly igniting a fire in him. That soft, green T-shirt of hers was hugging her curves. Her jeans showcased slender legs and a to-die-for ass. Even her hair, normally pinned up in a sloppy bun or pulled back in a sleek ponytail, was down around her shoulders, a mass of fire he longed to bury his hands in.

  He was so screwed.

  “Seth?”

  “Hmm?” Someone had asked him a question that didn’t involve sinfully tight jeans. He mentally scrolled back. It was something about his day job as an architect. Because of his status as a Nephilim, he’d needed a job where he could set his own hours. He loved designing, so he’d become a freelance architect. “Oh, right. The Benning project. So far, so good. All of the contractors are on time for a change. No major disasters, lots of minor ones, business as usual. Although I have to admit it’s the first time I’ve been asked to design around a griffin.”

  “A griffin?” Abby appeared curious, her eyes sparkling with humor.

  “Don’t ask. I’m still not sure I understand it myself. Finding stonework with feathers in it is giving me hives. What about you, Abby? How was work?” Abby worked for a salon named Mane Frame.

  She grinned at him, as easy and relaxed as she hadn’t been when he’d first arrived. He’d seen the way her hands shook, the way her cheeks flamed. But he could also see the quirky, cute woman inside the shy shell, the one who teased her brother about liver-and-onion tacos. That was the woman he wanted to bring out, the one he desperately wanted to get to know better.

  “We had this one woman come in today, you know the ones who bring in a picture of Paris Hilton and ask me to make them look just like her? Except I’m a beautician, not a magician, and this woman was ancient. Blond hair would have been awful with her skin tone, and the cut! Oh, man, it would have been awful. She would have resembled a shar-pei with Barbie hair. Anyway, we’re supposed to steer clients away from anything that makes them look asstastic, but she refused to listen, and after a while she started sounding like a yappy dog...”

  So far, so good. Her smiles were coming easier, her laughter more free as she relaxed in the presence of her family. He’d even managed to make eye contact, her gorgeous amber-colored eyes spearing into him.

  It had been a while since a single glance from a woman took his breath away.

  Seth’s smile became wider the longer Abby talked. She was animated as she described her interaction with her various clients and her temperamental boss, Nancy. He watched the play of emotions across her face, thrilled when her warm grin was turned on him. Her arms waved, nearly knocking over his glass, but he managed to grab it before it spilled. She smiled an apology and continued talking.

  He even managed not to freeze up at the sight of burn scars on her right arm. He exchanged a glance with Bill, who shook his head with a slight scowl. The burns were off limits.

  For now.

  He’d have to make sure Bill understood that to Seth, those scars were badges of bravery. She’d survived. Hell, she’d thrived. They merely enhanced her beauty, not diminished it.

  She was also a good cook. The fajitas had been done to perfection, the chicken spicy, the rice just right. The wine and the good food created a relaxed atmosphere, and Seth got to see Abby at her most vibrant. He hadn’t seen her this at ease since she was in high school, when she’d been his friend’s awkward little sister.

  It was wonderful to see it now. Seth kept quiet, and simply enjoyed the show.

  * * *

  “So, what’s for dessert?” Bill asked.

  Abby smiled over the hot oil, adding another triangle of dough. “Homemade sopaipillas. Hope you guys like honey or strawberries, because I forgot to pick up chocolate.”

  “Heathen.” Trish got out the honey and the strawberry puree, more than familiar with Abby’s kitchen. “How could you forget chocolate, of all things?”

  “After the attack of the shar-pei Barbie, you’re lucky I remembered you were coming over.” Abby shuddered. “I’m going to have nightmares for a week.”

  “Woof.”

  Abby maneuvered the hot sopaipillas onto a plate. She took them to the table, sprinkled them lightly with confectioner’s sugar, and everyone dug in. The only sound to break the silence was “Mmm,” warming Abby’s heart.

  After dinner, Abby brought out the cards and the popcorn. They always had popcorn on hand when they played cards—mostly because Abby had banned Nerf guns. “Anyone want to play canasta?”

  Trish cleared the kitchen table as Bill grabbed a pad and pencil.

  Seth raised a brow. “Canasta? What’s that?”

  Trish was standing behind Seth, waving her hands madly.

  Subtle, Trish. Very subtle. Abby took the hint. If she was going to try and get closer to him, she had to make a move. She grinned at Seth, knowing it was a pale imitation of her earlier easy smiles. I hope I don’t look like I have gas.

  “It’s kind of like rummy, but to win you need make something called melds out of sets of seven cards. Jokers are wild, but you make more points if the meld is pure and doesn’t contain them. And you can make a meld off your partner’s cards.” She had to admit, Trish’s idea of having him come to dinner with them had worked out brilliantly. She’d been able to relax in a way she wouldn’t have been able to on a date.

  The confusion on his face was absolutely adorable. How could such a masculine guy appear so...cuddleworthy?

  As Bill began to shuffle the cards she shifted so that she was seated across from Seth. “It’s okay. I’ll teach you how to play.” Which was probably Trish’s plan all along.

  Bill snickered. “Wait until we break out the cribbage board. Then it’s every man for himself.”

  “Yup.” Trish took the seat across from Bill, smirking at her husband. “He’s gonna be so happy to have someone else join him in his lonely loserhood.”

  “I don’t lose that badly.”

  Her fingers on her forehead in the shape of an L, Trish began to sing. “L is for loser, that’s good enough for me.”

  Bill threw popcorn at her head.

  Seth chuckled as Trish returned fire. “I’m not very good at card games. I’m a lot better at board games. I really kick ass at Clue.”

  “That’s okay.” She patted his hand, startling herself. It was the first time she’d voluntarily touched a male who wasn’t family, and she felt fine. No fear, no anxiety. It was nice. She resisted the urge to caress his fingers. Okay, better than nice. His hand was lean, but strong. “We’ll take pity on you.”

  “I’m not that bad. Really.” He patted her shoulder, and she had no desire to shrug off his touch. Maybe a relationship with someone like Seth was possible after all. “It’s just a card game. How hard can it be?”

  She shook her head and proceeded to teach him the rules of the game. They were
going to get creamed, and she couldn’t care less.

  An hour and a half later, they conceded defeat to Trish and Bill. The other couple had wiped the floor with them. They had made more inroads into the wine, and Abby decided to blame the wine rather than admit that it was the sight of her partner that kept distracting her. He leaned back in his chair and smiled ruefully. “Next time we’re going to kick your asses.”

  “Hell, yeah.” Seth toasted the other couple. “Because next time we’re playing Clue.”

  Abby was still giggling as she walked him to the door, Trish and Bill not far behind them. “Seth?”

  “Hmm?” He was shaking his head at something Bill or Trish was doing behind her.

  Abby ignored them. She was used to the antics of her brother and sister-in-law. “You’re welcome to come again, if you’d like.”

  His gaze snapped to her face, the blue gray of his eyes darkening, turning pure blue, yet they were far from cold. “I’d like that.”

  She could feel her cheeks flushing. “Me too.”

  She wasn’t certain how long they stood there before Trish and Bill elbowed their way out the door, taking Seth with them. He turned back toward her as he headed to his town house. “Good night, Abby.”

  She gulped. She could hear the desire in his voice, feel the warmth of his gaze. Trish was right. Seth wanted her.

  Now all she had to do was decide if she had the courage to let him have her.

  Chapter Two

  “Seth? What’s wrong?”

  Seth sighed. He couldn’t believe he’d knocked on her door, but damn, he was exhausted, and he couldn’t keep himself from trying to see her. They’d passed each other a few times in the week since the dinner with Trish and Bill, and he’d watched over her from afar, but it wasn’t the same.

  He’d missed her, missed the sound of her bright laugh and the way her cheeks flushed when he looked at her, far more than he’d thought possible.

  “Seth?”

  He straightened up from where he’d been leaning on her doorjamb. He couldn’t tell her the truth, that he’d been fighting Shem all day. “I don’t mean to impose, but I just pulled sixteen hours at a job site, cleaning up a contractor mess, and I’m dead on my feet. Would you be so kind as to order me a pizza, or something? I think the only reason I’m still upright is I haven’t eaten since...” He scratched his head, unwilling to tell her it had been yesterday. “Yeah. I think my stomach’s going to beat me to death and eat me.”