by Lexi Ostrow
“They have shown nothing but contempt, my Queen.”
She nodded. “What of Helena and Greta? Are they in our sights?” For weeks, she had been trying to lure the Pure Angels towards one of the three entrances to Hell. They never came close enough to drag them down. For a whilst, Seraphina had begun to suspect they’d been warned away from the entrances, that someone knew what she was doing. Only three places led to the underworld she ruled. Three places where the demons that looked human could escape to the world above—a cave inside Kebnekaise, a mountain in Sweden, and an entrance low beneath the waves in a cave in the Atlantic waters and directly beneath the wondrous Big Ben.
All the areas were accessible by anyone, but she’d usually had the most luck at finding the Pure Angels around the London city streets for obvious reasons—it was the only one truly in a populous area. She considered that it might be time to look to the other locations, but not until she had her Alliance member under her control. An army was nothing if the enemy was still larger.
She tapped her fingers on the wall next to her. The thumping resonated through the walls and filled the silence in the office. Neither Fallen spoke and anger boiled in Seraphina’s blood. Passiveness in a Fallen was useless. It seemed to be the one thing she could not force upon a created Fallen. They didn’t have the same drive to help. The blood connection, and the simple euphoria that certain acts brought a Fallen wasn’t always enough, which meant she needed to start enticing those on the brink of falling to do so and not just chasing the warriors and forcing them to fall, they took far longer to fall.
“If you both are simply going to stand their groping each other, get out of my office.” They bowed their heads, and she swore she saw a bit of a snarl on Muriel’s lips, but she ignored it. They would never be on the same page, but as long as the revered Muriel had been forced to fall by her hands, it would be enough to not kill her and destroy her soul as only Angels could do.
They left, and she turned her attention to what she saw in the mirror. Her thoughts were muddled, and she blamed the image of Demetrious that stood behind her. Lucius had unleashed her own personal terror, and there was no putting him back in the box. That had been the true reason she’d let the demon go; if his work could affect her that much, then she had no desire to see what he could do at close range.
“It is all on you. You were too slow, too pathetic. I died because you could not hold your own in a fight and save me.” The nightmare of her former love verbally attacked her, day and night, never stopping.
For months, she had screamed at the illusion, attacked it, and threatened it. The specter had finally become nothing, except a reason to achieve her goal. The man was why she hated humans, and his constant assaults made it all the more desirable to rid the world of humanity. There were times, mainly when she was laying with a man, that his presence could bring her to shakes. Yet when she was alone, he fueled her desire to finish what she had started, so she might move on from his memory and find a permanent bed partner—one that lived up to what her former love had been.
The knock on the door did not startle her, she was expecting the Kappas. “Come in, only one of you, or I will kill the rest.” She sat down in the black leather chair behind her desk and waited as she heard a shuffle of feet and a chorus of strange croaks outside the door.
It opened slowly, and the large Kappa Demon she had dealt with at Lake Biwa came in. His black eyes were smug, and she couldn’t wait to slice his head from his shoulders. She’d never planned to give them access to the lakes in Hell. She would slaughter all the other demons one day, so that only the Angels were left, but not until the fight was over. Then it would be demon against demon.
“It is done.”
The croaked voice made her twinge; she didn’t like the raspy quality of it. “You are confident you infected Philippe Clemis?”
The demon nodded.
“The male with long hair close to the shade of a sweet?”
She saw the pouch of skin on the creature’s neck bubble as it swallowed. Her hand slammed onto the desk, and she pushed out of the chair, already assured of the demons failure.
“Male? You only instructed on what he looked like.”
Her voice may as well have been laced with poison barbs of her own. “Yes, and who did you infect if you claim it is done?” She placed her hand gently on top of the dagger resting in front of her on the desk.
“You did not specify a male, my Lady.”
Her fingers slowly curled over the hilt of the dagger. She said nothing.
“We infected someone of your description. Long dark hair the color of sweets, a hunter at the Alliance. But, but she was a she.”
She picked the dagger up. “Pray tell, how did you miss the name Philippe Clemis as belonging to a man?”
“We, we, we didn’t. They stood together, my Lady. Together!”
She leaned over the desk, slashed the dagger against the green slimed skin and gagged as the smell of lake water spilled out with the demon’s thick, green blood. Why they didn’t all bleed red was beyond her.
The demon’s knees buckled, and its webbed hands went to its throat in an effort to save its worthless life. She could hear the sounds of its chokes and gurgles from the floor, but she didn’t get up from the desk. She would need to find out more about the woman they had turned, perhaps it would not be a total failure. She was still a hunter, and whilst Seraphina would have preferred to take down the biggest menace to her species, she would settle for the one the man had appeared with, as there may be an emotional connection she could work with.
The disgusting sounds of a creature trying to cling to life suddenly ceased, and she rose to go and find two demons. One to clean up the mess and slaughter the rest of the Kappas, and an Illusion Demon to impersonate a clock worker and learn what they could of the woman.
She didn’t bother to look at the leader’s dead body on her floor as she stepped out from behind her desk. “Never send a pawn to do a queen’s job.”
Eight
“Too bloody small,” Philippe growled low in his throat as he paced his small room and muttered under his breath.
He’d been shocked to wake up and find his arm curled protectively around Odette. More so because he would have assumed her father wouldn’t dare allow it than the fact that he’d slept beside her all night. She’d been his to protect, and he’d let her down. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to undo the bites from the Kappas.
That’s because you like spending time with her.
He growled at himself and flinched when Odette let out a small moan from the bed. She’d been lying on her side when he’d awakened, almost as if she hadn’t moved a meter the whole night. She certainly hadn’t moved when her father had come by and told them to come to his office when she woke up.
Which might be right now.
The small groans filled the room again, and he was torn betwixt chuckling at her apparent dislike of waking up and concern that the sounds could be from pain. She rolled slowly on the single bed, and for an instant, he feared she would toss herself off in a fit.
Philippe had crossed the space in an instant. However, the thud of his boots had caused her eyes to shoot open. She screamed, and there was pure terror in her eyes as they locked with his, and he could only wonder what she saw. Lucius hadn’t been in that night. The weak tended to call to him as easy prey, so whatever had plagued her sleep had been the devious creation of her own mind.
Scream after scream filled his ears. He forgot all fear of the poison and grabbed her by the shoulders as soon as he could get a hold of them with her squirming. “Odette. Odette, shh calm yourself. You’re just in my chambers.”
The screaming continued, and she slapped at his face but missed.
“Bon Dieu! Odette!” he snapped her name and held tight to her shoulders.
Her green eyes landed on his, and he could see nothing but fear in her soul. He instinctively dropped to the bed and pulled her into him. Her breasts crushed again
st his chest, and he tried to focus on her fear, rather than the blood racing to his member.
The tears were rather effective at distracting his lust. He could feel them, wetting his plain cotton shirt. Her body wasn’t wracked with sobs, nor did howls of pain come from her, like some women when they cried. She was softly crying against him, and all he could do was hold onto her, praying to something that she made it through.
He rocked on the bed, holding her tightly enough she knew she was safe, no matter what. “Me belle felle, what do you remember?” His voice was more soothing than he ever thought he could make it, and he felt the strings around his heart tightening. He’d already admitted to himself that, after little over a few weeks, he liked her presence. A kiss shouldn’t have been enough to addle his mind with other thoughts, and yet, he cared for her and knew it. Maybe not like a lover did another, but he felt attachment and responsibility towards her.
She pulled back, her dark hair a tangled mess around her head, and he saw the tears staining her cheeks, dripping through blood she had somehow smeared on her face as she’d slept from her injuries. Nothing dulled the fire in her eyes, not even the fear he saw.
“Everything,” she whispered with trembling lips. Tears slipped from her eyes in quick rivers down her cheeks, falling each time she blinked, but Odette stayed upright, staring off into space throughout the ordeal.
Philippe stood up from the bed. If she found the situation improper, she hadn’t said, and he would not test the waters any further. He pulled on a proper set of clothes, instead of the white top and black breeches he’d worn after waking. He did so in silence but swore he could see her process everything. The unspoken statement was that she was not dead, which meant she was to turn.
“Philippe, why was it just me?” Her voice wasn’t meek by any standards. In fact, the feisty woman he’d been tangling with since her arrival seemed to have awakened.
He slipped his communicator over his wrist, put the dagger in his boot and turned back to her. “I promise you, I will find out.”
She nodded as her eyes trailed up his body. He was fully clothed, but he had not yet put on his vest and overcoat. It was the most undressed she had seen him. She bit her lower lip, and he felt it like a punch to the stomach. What had happened the night prior betwixt them hadn’t been the Incubus.
“Mon Dieu! Forgive me,” he said the words even as he was closing the space betwixt them. He didn’t reach out with his hands, just put his mouth on hers. Immediately, lust soared through his body, and he growled low as she pushed the kiss further, pressing against him and twining her hands in his hands. He was losing himself in the kiss, in Odette. Every slip of her tongue against his, every moment they remained in an intimate embrace without touching, set his body on fire. He’d kissed women, though not many since joining the Alliance four years before. Nothing had ever felt him like this. There was a sense of magic in her kiss, and all he wanted to do was stay locked away from the problems she faced and explore what he felt.
She was the one who moved again. Her body pressed against Philippe’s, and her tongue began to claim his. She was taking control, and not once did he think to stop her. His hands went around her back and pulled her to him, aligning their bodies perfectly. His erection was full long before her hips ground against his, and the extra sensation was maddening.
They stood pressed together, mouths gently exploring each other for what felt like an eternity. His hands trailed up and down Odette’s back as hers continued to twist and pull in his hair, the kiss shifting and igniting. His mind was on nothing except getting her beneath him.
Her hands left his hair and tugged at the ties on his shirt collar. Her fingers brushed against his chest, and the small action shot need through him. He pulled back from the kiss to allow her to pull the shirt over his head. His mouth trailed from her lips and down her collar bone, and he growled when the coppery taste of blood covered his tongue.
Abruptly, he pulled back from their embrace. The poison in her blood.
Odette vocalized the fear first. “Shit. No. No, Philippe, no.” Her arms were waving in the air and tears were filling the corners of her eyes.
He tipped her head back and closed his mouth over hers again to calm her and fill himself with her taste, instead of the tainted blood they hadn’t yet washed from her body. When he felt her sway into him, he forced himself to pull back slowly enough that he didn’t seem disgusted with her, which she must have thought.
“Do not tell me no about that. Do not deny that something is betwixt us. I don’t mind it, and as annoying as you are, you’re a damned good hunter and a brilliant, beautiful woman. I am sorry for your losses; I have none of my own to understand. But I will not hold back from the first woman to make me feel anything since I devoted my life to the sole purpose of getting rid of demons so humans could be safe.” He was breathing heavy, both from the passion coursing through him and from the anger he felt at the idea that she might push him away.
She opened her mouth and closed it tight four times before finally speaking. “I’m to be a monster in a short time, Philippe.”
“We are going to your father’s office to see to that right now.” He hadn’t meant to sound as harsh as he had, but the damage was done.
She flinched and took a step around him. “Then we had best be going.”
He wrapped his hand around her wrist and spun her. There was no longer a danger of spreading the poison and killing her; that only happened in the first critical hours. “You’re ignoring the issue.”
She jerkily pulled her wrist from his grasp. “The issue is that I came to London to flee the memories of my dead husband and children.” She emphasized the words, and he felt a little sick. “Instead, I have found myself in another attack. I cannot worry about how badly I want your lips on mine. Not whilst it’s such an insult to the memory of my husband and collides with saving my life.”
She stormed out of the room, and he felt like an arse for the smile that spread on his lips just before he took off after her. She had most certainly admitted to what was betwixt them.
The lift jerked to a stop, and she cursed as her body slammed backwards into Philippe’s. For a man who had told her he didn’t let women distract him, he had done a wondrous job making her forget that she was on a one-way ticket to her death. She supposed she should thank him for the distraction, even if it had her head spinning with hopes of surviving the impossible to see what made him tick.
She may have woken up that morning, proving the Kappa’s bite wasn’t a mortal wound, but that meant they had chosen her to be a blood slave. She would grow fangs and lose the ability to control her actions. She’d heard rumors it was not always the case, and the fact that they could take over her at any time had bile rising in her stomach.
“Odette, I don’t know what we’re walking into.”
She turned and saw the ends of her hair whip across Philippe’s eyes. “What’s your point?” her voice dripped ice. She hadn’t meant for it too, but it wasn’t his life that was over, it was hers. She knew her father; he may have allowed two stray demons into the Alliance, but they controlled themselves. She wouldn’t be anything but a piece on a chessboard. If the Kappa’s knew they hadn’t killed her, she would be nothing but a vessel. Not much was known about the process, except for the cases they had recorded.
“I just want you to know, there’s going to be an Angel in there.”
Her heart pounded so loudly in her ears it was deafening. She could see her father’s lips moving, but couldn’t hear another sound. Being in a small space with an Angel, even a Pure Angel, was not on her goals in life.
Her whole body trembled, and Philippe pulled her to him for the second time in one morning, rubbing her body with his hands. He was trying to comfort her, to shake the shock. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she felt him force her forward with his body weight. Closer to the office.
Odette felt the rise and fall of her chest erratically matching the pounding of her heart. Her feet mov
ed because Philippe was forcing the motion, and her body obeyed the unspoken command not to fall on her face. Then he wasn’t moving her anymore. She felt sick to her stomach when the realization of why they were no longer moving sunk in. She slowly opened one eye, and then the other.
The door to her father’s office was open, and she could see him sitting behind the overly dramatic wooden desk. His eyes were not on her and Philippe, but rather the corner of the room hidden by the wall. She turned again to face Philippe.
“I will make your next hunt hell for this, Clemis.”
His breath was a whisper against her ear as he leaned down, “I was warning you, ma belle felle.”
She shivered at the sensation, and then he put a hand on her lower back and pushed. She stumbled forward and hit the ground. Pain darted through her wrists, and she cursed at Philippe. She heard his chuckle before she felt him pick her up as if she was a rag doll. Perhaps she was weaker in her condition. Betwixt his kiss and the information about an Angel, she hadn’t had any time to access her own body.
There was most certainly a Pure Angel in the room. She could feel the presence without even looking up. When she did, her voice caught in her throat. The male in front of her was the most amazing being she had ever seen. Long blond hair flowed to his waist, and majestic white feathers peeked up from behind his shoulders, indicating the wings he had folded in. His eyes were as silver as the polished flatware they used at Christmas, and when he smiled, she felt an overwhelming need to run to him. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and swear her allegiance.
“Odette put these on, or we will never get anything done.”
She heard her father, but couldn’t take her eyes off the demon in the room with them. Something was slammed in front of her eyes, and she felt a snap behind the back of her head. Green colored tones broke her connection on the Angel, and she realized someone had put crystal goggles on her.