by JL Madore
She smiled a wry smile. “A few pressure points I’ve mastered. Wait till I get some massage oil and have you on my table. You’ll lose your mind.”
He already had, but couldn’t wait for round two. He shook his head, chuckling. “You are a wicked, wicked woman.”
Wrapping her in his arms he pulled her up to her toes. Her bare chest slid against his and he bent to kiss her. Parting her lips, he swept his tongue inside.
Austin’s hand curled around the length of his already recovering shaft. “Arms up.” She nodded to the upper nozzles again. “I’m not done with you yet.”
“I have a few talents of my own I’d like to share.”
She nipped his lower lip. It was rougher than a lover’s bite. She was aggressive and didn’t that get him hard. She bit him again. A sting had his blood racing to the pounding beat of his heart. She slapped his ass cheek. Hard. “I gave you an order, soldier. Now. Arms. Up.”
His growl echoed all around them, his beast prowling to the foreground. She’d better be careful or he’d bed her until neither one of them knew what day it was—consequence be damned. They would hit the horizontal until they were so sated and spent neither one of them would dream of getting out of bed.
Ever.
He resumed his position and her fingernails raked up and down his flesh. At her mercy, he allowed himself to be exposed. The dominant male in him wanted control, but he loved that she had a plan. He wouldn’t deprive her of her fun. Wouldn’t deprive himself either.
Sliding around to his side, she straddled his leg. One hand slipped across the tender cheek of his recently tanned backside and the other caressed his front, teasing and toying with his reawakened erection. The look in her half-hooded hazels said she was still scheming. “What are you up to?”
She started working a slow, shattering rhythm. “You’ve taken good care of me. I just thought I should even the score.”
“I don’t keep score.”
With her gaze locked on his, she rinsed away the soap she’d spread over him and sat on the small, built-in ledge. He hissed as her lips parted and she took him in her hot, little mouth. His hips jerked as her tongue slid over his blunt head and then circled the slit at the tip. Blood pulsed in his shaft and pressure started building again.
He’d never allowed anyone to touch him like this. Over the centuries, he refused any female going down on him. Too personal. Too intimate for an act that meant nothing. With Austin it meant something. It meant everything. He watched, absorbed as her cheeks hollowed as she sucked on him.
Sweet mother, she stunned him, consuming as much of his length as she could manage. Dreamy decadence danced across her face as her erotic purr pegged him in the chest. Not being allowed to have intercourse didn’t seem like such a sacrifice while her tongue swirled around the girth of his cock and she nibbled down his shaft. This more than made due. The attention blew the top off his brain.
Soft kisses deepened to hunger and then grew to a rough and greedy demand. She tugged at his sac, manipulated his skin, fingered one orb and then the other, all the while taking him deep into the back of her throat. She devoured him, tracking what got him hot, running her grip tighter as she slid up and down his length.
“That’s incredible. I’m close. You might want to—”
She plunged him into her mouth, deeper, rougher. Her hunger didn’t feel like an in-the-moment fling, it felt like possession. The stealing of his soul. Each time she withdrew and her lips paused at the end of his shaft a shudder racked through him, stealing a little more.
His body seized. How long his release lasted, he had no clue—a minute, ten, a lifetime.
The orgasm destroyed him, while her tenderness left him spent. Ages later, Austin kissed her way up his chest, running gentle hands over his quivering muscles. He leaned against the cool, granite, his head tilted back.
A sly, feminine chuckle filled the shower. “Hope you don’t mind me taking point on this one.”
Zander’s head lolled to his shoulder. He made no attempt to close his gaping mouth. “Smart ass.” He dragged his arm from his side, touched the control pad and the water stopped.
Someone knocked on the bathroom door.
Zander blocked Austin and growled. “Someone better be dying out there.”
Kyrian laughed on the other side of the door. “Night falls within the hour, my brother. The garrison has gathered.”
Shit. Right. Zander scrubbed a hand over his face. Whoever chose Austin to act as a distraction knew what they were doing. He didn’t even know what day it was anymore. Thankfully, though, the sexual retreat had burned off his beast’s angst and he’d stopped glowing.
“I’ll be right out. Give me a minute to restart my heart. I recently suffered a coronary.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Fifteen minutes after the shower of his lifetime, Zander walked to the dining room, fighting gear on, a plan on the table, and Austin on his arm. Aside from the chaos swirling around them, things felt about as good as he ever remembered.
The minute they appeared in the doorway, all talk ceased.
“Well dip me in chocolate and call me candy.” Seth lowered his tumbler from his lips.
All heads turned as one. Austin’s breathing quickened, her scent indicating when the full impact hit her. Assembled in one room, no matter how spacious, a garrison of Nephilim made a serious impact. The scraping of six chairs on hardwood, had her stiffening against his palm.
The males rose as a unit, a dozen variations of ‘What-the-fuck?’ and ‘What’d I miss?’ bouncing off the golden walls. Zander raised a hand in warning. “Warriors. My brothers. You haven’t been introduced. This is Austin. Austin, these are the Watchers of the Gray, my comrades in arms, and the men who had our backs today.”
Zander laid his arm across her shoulder and squeezed. The action drew her close in a room filled with violent men and also blocked her from stepping back and showing weakness in front of a group that respected strength. “Along the table on your left, Kyrian and Danel you’ve met and the twins are Seth and Phoenix. Along the table on your right, the Celt is Brennus and the Moor is Taharqa, aka Hark. Boys, say hello, so Austin can see you.”
She nodded politely to each and then looked up at him with pleading eyes.
“Kyrian, will you take Austin and Stetson to the kitchen and show her where everything is? I think she’s had enough testosterone for one evening and might prefer some solitude.”
The relief in her smile told him he’d nailed that one.
Zander poured a drink and when Kyrian returned, he started the meeting. “Seth and Phoenix, I assume you’ve been updated on the ambush earlier this evening.” When heads nodded, he continued. “Tanek’s loss is incomprehensible. It changes the playing field and has birthed ideas of grandeur and rebellion. The new reality is that we can no longer take our immortality for granted. The Dark Ones are feeling empowered and we need to adapt.”
“Well the Shedim need to adapt to us lighting them up on sight,” Danel said.
Seth emptied his glass and slammed it on the table. “Between the killing in that warehouse and what they did to Tanek, I’d say it’s open season on Shedim.”
A heated outbreak of male acknowledgment filled the room.
“Yer woman kens too much,” Brennus said, pouring a second glass of scotch. “Ye see that, aye?”
Zander raised a hand. “Austin is not a point of discussion.”
Harsh voices erupted around the room. Zander switched to the old language and cut them off. “Enough. Austin is not your concern.”
“The archangels will never—”
“They left her in my care,” Zander snapped. “Thank you for coming to our aid tonight, but the woman is my guest. She will stay until we make it safe for her to return to her life. End. Of.”
He ignored the looks and stepped to the altar arranged along the buffet. Sulfur flared when he struck a long, hickory match. Holding the burning wood over the wide white pillar, he lit the
two wicks.
“Lady Divinity, we honor you. We ask that you watch over us and vanquish darkness and evil from our lives.” He moved to the scarlet candle. “Michael, Ruler of the Choir’s army we call on you.” Next, he lit the gold candle. “Auriel, Ruling Prince of Powers we call on you.” The last candle he lit was blue. “Gabriel, Ruling Prince of the Cherubim we call on you.”
With a shake of his wrist, the remnant of burning hickory extinguished. He laid the charred piece of wood in a copper bowl and took his seat at the head of the table. His scotch hadn’t touched his lips before the air charged with the impending arrival of their celestial bosses.
The three archangels arrived.
Colour danced over the walls and surfaces as light threw off them like prisms turning in the sun. He had ceased noticing centuries ago, but with Austin there, he watched with renewed interest. Michael arrived, jaw tight, his blond lengths bound in a cue at the back of his neck. Next came Auriel, ebony-skinned and the fiercest looking of the Seven. Gabriel finished the trio, a misleading softness to his whiskey-colored eyes.
As the motley crew of his men continued to grumble with side conversations, they glared at him and threw back drinks like they were dying of thirst.
The three Ruling Princes glided along the window wall to the empty chairs. Michael held out his hand and the bottle of scotch flashed from the silver tray to his palm. He poured himself and his fellow archangels three fingers of amber liquid which they each held in the air.
“To Tanek,” Auriel said, raising his glass. “The bravest of males. A devoted leader. A formidable fighter. He shall be missed. Our deepest condolences to you all.”
Everyone drank. Zander couldn’t help but feel he had been measured against an impossible example and had been found wanting. He tipped back his glass and let his throat burn.
“However,” Michael broke in, “duty remains. Evil swells in loss and emotion. The tides are rising against you and now is no time to be divided in focus.”
“What do you know of the Cherub taken?” Zander asked. “Why did she come here?”
Auriel slid his glass onto the table and leaned forward. “Someone accessed your life file, Zander. The Library of Lives is heavily restricted but one of the Keepers found that the seal on your private file was broken.”
Zander’s gut tightened but he wasn’t surprised. Not after the scene at the warehouse.
“I believe the female came to you directly by way of apology.”
“Did she know who breached their sanctum?”
Auriel scowled. “There is no way to be certain. The other Cherubim are deeply shaken both that someone gained entry to their temple and that their sister has been taken. They send their deepest apologies.”
“Please tell them, I hold no animosity toward them. Evil is as evil does. And assure them we still hope to return their sister home to them.”
Auriel nodded. “I promise you all, the repercussions for abducting a member of the Choir shall soon be the terror of the Earth. Those involved shall suffer, horribly. All those involved. The brutality shall become legend, the telling of the horror rippling into the Otherworld in waves.”
Zander had no doubt. “We will bring her home to you. One way or another.”
The room fell silent as everyone nodded.
Michael stood, shifting to stand behind his chair. “Other than the Shedim mess, what are your tallies for the week? Innocent death count?”
“Three,” Zander said, meeting his hostile gaze head-on. “Hark and Brennus found three ritual bloodlettings on young human males a few nights ago.”
“Ritual bloodletting?” Gabriel frowned, looking skeptical. “I didn’t sense any death by ritual.”
“It was Darkworld for sure. All three victims were twenty-something men, firstborn sons of no one special, killed within their own homes. Each place glowed wall to wall to ceiling to floor in sigils and imagery.”
“And their blood?”
“Not a drop to be found.”
Gabriel scowled. “Might they be the work of the same Shedim slayer you encountered?”
“I’d never say never, but we haven’t found any connection.”
“Yet,” Kyrian said.
Zander nodded. “All three had their organs intact. What we know for sure is that the runes and symbols stemmed back to the ancient world. Black magik.”
“Aye,” Brennus said, “it filled the room with an evil Hoodoo I’ve never felt. Ye could sense the darkness creeping inside ye, from the stone walk. Left me head swaying. A foul black footprint, to be sure. All three sites, the same thing over agin.”
Kyrian ran his fingers through his hair. “What races benefit by the gathering of that much human blood or a ritual kill?”
“That’s the question.” Zander pursed his lips. “Danel’s been tracking it from the ritual angle. Brennus and Hark have been trying to find the blood trail.”
“And other than the Shedim and these?” Michael asked.
Kyrian finished off his drink and set his glass on the table. “The Djinn have been quiet.”
“Aye,” Brennus chimed in, “keeping their heeds down after the crop circle uproar last month. Dumb-ass adolescents, they ken the rules better than that.”
Several men chuckled while Kyrian went on. “Spirits are behaving more or less the same as usual. Danel fed a few of our local spooks Friday night and the Poltergeists and Shadows all seem to be towing the line.”
Danel nodded. “That Night Shade tipped me off about the mixed bag of fuckers about to attack Zander and the woman in the street tonight. It was messed up. Different factions united for a coordinated attack in broad daylight.”
Zander ground his molars together as Michael rose to his feet. “They did what?” The last word echoed around the dining room. The archangel planted his hands on the table and leaned in. “An attack in view of a human?”
Zander took a long inhale and then let it out. “Eleven were dispatch—”
“And the woman, that woman, accompanied you when you were engaged?”
Zander’s gaze narrowed on Michael. “What’s your point?”
“Simply that the arrival of your companion accompanies a level of chaos heretofore unprecedented: a Cherub kidnapped from your property, three men slain in a demonic ritual, eleven daemons engaged in battle with a human present, Tanek—a six-thousand-year-old immortal—expired, dismembered and his body deposited within your property. And despite being ordered to keep your distance, her scent seeps from your pores like a whore’s perfume.”
Zander’s chair hit the floor as he squared off with his sire. “You think she’s involved with our world going to hell? Austin, a woman that until two days ago knew nothing of our fucked up life, is an evil criminal mastermind tearing down the foundation of our secret society? A temptress here to dismantle the garrison?”
Zander wanted to grab his sire by the throat and do something stupid. If he got himself killed there would be no one to protect her. His gaze remained locked on his superior. “Come after me, that’s fine. Bring it. But let me be clear, Austin has no part in this. She will not be harassed and her honor will not be questioned. I won’t allow it.”
Lights flickered as Michael raised his brow. “Be of care, Zandros, you overstep. More progress will be made as commander if you tether your aggression rather than offend me with heated threats.”
Zander inhaled, grasping at the last of his control.
Michael raised a hand and the lights returned to normal. “I make no judgment against the woman. I simply point out that when considering recent events objectively, there is a multitude of things that coincide. I believe we all find that disturbing.”
Zander straightened to his full height. He’d always played by the rules that if you fucked with one of his brothers you’d pay the price. Austin wasn’t Nephilim but she was still his, even if he’d never be able to make that official. “What are you saying? Spit it out, Michael.”
“I’m ordering you to keep y
our distance from her. Until we know more, she remains in your charge but your tie to her goes no further than your duty to protect her. She is human.”
If Zander had the power to combust someone with his mind, his sire would have been the biggest fireball known to history.
Kyrian stood, calm and restrained. “This decline into chaos and the decision to forego the laws of exposure in front of an innocent, likely have more to do with Tanek’s assassination going viral through the Hell Realm than it does the woman.”
“That fact,” Michael said, “and the fact that her Otherworld synesthesia makes it impossible to reinsert her into her life, is the single reason she remains.”
Zander exhaled. “Can we get back to the bigger issue.”
“Daemon’s thinking us vulnerable?” Brennus said.
Zander nodded. “Whatever the weapon used on Tanek, he was powerless to fight. Colt’s coroner said his flesh didn’t regenerate and the steel released a paralytic that left him defenseless. That was one dagger in the hands of one enemy. Like it or not, images of a Watcher being carved alive has rallied confidence and united rebellion in the Darkworld. We’re facing the threat of an all-race revolt.”
Kyrian emptied his glass. “And that plays into the rumors on the streets.”
“What rumors?” Auriel asked, gesturing for Michael and Zander to take their seats once again. “Discontent in the Darkworld is the rule, not the exception.”
“Ahh, poor bastards,” someone barked.
“The rumors,” Gabriel repeated.
Kyrian pushed his tumbler toward the Celt for a refill. “Several are circulating. There’s talk of a gathering of Darkworld alliances here in Toronto. Gregor has come out of hibernation. I’ve also heard a Dimme Queen is in town—”
“A Dimme?” Gabriel snapped. “Dimme don’t leave Europe. They prefer old country.”
Seth pulled a stick of candy from his vest pocket and unwrapped it. “Maybe she ate all the children in her village and decided to go for takeout.”
Zander rubbed his palm over his aching jaw. “Brennus, call upon Azazel and see what weapons he has in his armory for dispatching a Dimme. It’s been centuries since we’ve come up against one of those bitches. It is one, isn’t it?”