by Madelyn Ford
“Just who the hell are you speaking to?”
Tory flinched at Michael’s demand. “My guides. They say the demon hunts me.”
“Exactly how is this my problem?”
Wrapping her arms around her torso, Tory tried to fight off the chill sweeping the room at Michael’s icy tone. The tiny kernel of hope she’d been secretly protecting since she’d discovered the truth of her birth withered and died. She should be used to it, having learned long ago no one gave a damn about her. At least no one living. So why the hell did it hurt so badly?
“I will release you.” The words were forced out around the sob fighting for freedom, but Tory managed to hold back the tears.
Michael opened his mouth to speak but it shut with a definitive snap when an inhuman screech rent the air. The mist lapping at Tory’s calves split, a portion swirling violently toward Michael until stopping inches from the magical barrier it too could not cross. Stretching and lengthening toward the ceiling, it began to slowly transform until in its place stood the iridescent figure of a young woman.
“You conceited bastard,” Ari shrieked. “You owe me.”
Startled by Ari’s appearance—the spirits rarely, if ever, showed their human form to Tory much less anyone else—it took Tory a moment for her outburst to sink in. It certainly sounded as if Ari had some familiarity with the angel but that couldn’t be. Ari would have told her before she’d ever attempted this fiasco. Wouldn’t she?
“Ariadne,” Michael said softly.
The way he breathed out her name and the sheer fact he looked like he’d been run over by a Mack truck confirmed Tory was not the only one eating a big helping of betrayal. Never in a million years would she have believed any of her guides, but especially Ari, would dupe her in such a way. And why? For what purpose? Since Michael had appeared, Tory had felt like she was driving down a one-way street in the wrong direction. The stooges had been the only beings on Earth Tory had felt she could trust. Until now.
“You owe me,” Ari repeated, this time at a whisper and Michael sighed heavily, searching Tory out with his eyes. She felt those blue orbs sweep over her frame, slowly, like phantom fingers reaching out to draw her close. Then Michael nodded.
“If you return to where you belong, I will deal with Asmodeus.”
Ari glanced over her shoulder at Tory. Her face was etched with sadness and seemed to beg for understanding, but Tory found herself a little short on that emotion. Maybe if she’d had some clue as to what was going on… Hell, who was she kidding? She would have still been pissed had she known all the spirit had apparently been hiding from her.
“Your vow, Michael, and I will go.”
Michael only hesitated for a second before nodding in acquiescence.
“The words. I am not foolish enough to believe you without the words.”
As the angel’s eyes narrowed in a mixture of anger and indignation, Tory was glad the piercing gaze was not aimed at her. She would have wet her pants. But Ari just rested her hands on her hips and waited.
“I vow I will deal with Asmodeus.”
“And you’ll protect Victoria. You, Michael. Not one of your little followers.”
His fists clenched, released, then tightened again as he glared down at the apparition, and Tory fell back several steps. Baiting a pissed-off angel seemed like a really bad thing to do, and since she was the only other being in the room still living, Tory figured she would be the one to pay if Michael decided to come after someone.
“You have my vow,” he practically snarled, seemingly not the least bit happy about Ari’s demands. Not that Tory could blame him. She wasn’t particularly pleased herself. The last thing she wanted to do was spend any more time in the angel’s presence than absolutely necessary.
“Release the spell, Tory.”
Her head shot up in surprise and she found Ari had turned toward her and was watching her solemnly. “Just like that? Without a word of explanation? I don’t think so.”
A ghostly hand reached out to caress her cheek. “It’s the way it must be, baby girl. I can no longer protect you. But Michael can. And he will. It’s time.”
Stupidly, Tory shook her head. Time for what? She couldn’t even form the words to ask. Ari had been with her for as long as Tory could remember, long before the death of her mother. She couldn’t imagine a tomorrow without the spirit in it, even if her faith in Ari had taken a hit.
“I would never allow you to come to harm,” Ari said softly, her ghostly gaze filling with unshed tears. “Release him.”
Tory hesitated a moment, her mind trying to remember all the reasons why this was such a bad idea, before sighing as she reluctantly knelt at the edge of the circle. Using the blade still covered with her blood, she cut a line in the chalk, effectively breaking the protection spell. A powerful blast of energy hit her square on the chest, knocking her on her butt as she unconsciously drew the power back inside her body.
Towering over her like an avenging warrior, Michael held within his tight grasp a mighty sword, the likes of which Tory had never seen. The leather-wrapped handle had little adornment, only a leaf print etched in the silver base. Nothing really to remark over. The blade though was another story and had her frozen in disbelief. If one could actually call it a blade. The damn thing was a good three feet of red and orange flame swaying menacingly.
She was so dead.
Tory squeezed her eyes shut, hands over her head, waiting for a blow that never came. Instead, she heard Michael stride past her. Peeking from beneath her fingers, she watched for one surreal moment as he swung the blade of flame directly into the apparition that was her best friend. Then, with a flash of light and a loud popping sound, Ari was gone and Michael was standing over her again.
“What have you done?” Tory whispered, past caring she might anger him. There wasn’t a damn thing she could do if Michael decided to take her life. She figured at least with the angel it wouldn’t be the painful experience the demon hunting her would make of it.
“Get your ass into that circle and bespell it. I will return shortly.”
Her jaw dropped. That was all Michael had to say to her. “Now just one minute—” Her sputtering came to an abrupt halt when Tory found herself in Michael’s arms. But only for a second. Instead of dealing with any arguments from her, he’d scooped her up then dumped her in the middle of the pentagram.
“Why me?” he mumbled. Then one minute Michael was there and the next he was gone.
Chapter Two
Striding through the maze of intricate passageways, Michael wrestled to get his temper under control. He was leader of the Powers, an elite group of warriors originally formed to police their own kind but whose sole purpose was now hunting down and terminating those who joined Lucifer’s ranks. He should have been immune to the trappings of humans. Or so he would have liked to believe. It was a valuable lesson born home by a tiny blonde he could have crushed with his bare hands if he’d been inclined. But he hadn’t and it just pissed him off.
Instead, the need to draw her into his arms had slammed him in the chest. For the briefest moment, he’d actually felt his soul reach for hers. Michael had stopped that shit almost immediately. He’d seen what mating with a human had done to Gabriel. The death of Ariadne Duchesne had damn near destroyed him. In the four hundred years since she’d been slain, he and Gabriel had spoken maybe a couple dozen words and those had all been laced with hostility. At least from Gabriel’s end. He blamed Michael for her death. It was why Michael had agreed to help the human. He wanted to make amends. Not because she made his dick harder than a spike and his soul cry with need.
“Big of you to grace us with your presence.”
Michael folded his arms across his chest and arched a brow at his second in command, hardly amused by Zadkiel’s sardonic drawl. Never mind Zadkiel had been the one Tory had been trying to summon. Tory… Best to forget about her with all that luscious blonde hair smelling of lilacs.
Shit. If he got a har
d-on Zadkiel would never let him live it down.
“Maybe if you’d had something of interest to impart, I’d have stuck around.”
“How’s this, lord asshole? A report has come in from Skath. A witch managed to scry upon one of Lucifer’s high-ranking lieutenants.”
“Who?” Michael demanded, letting the asshole comment slide because when Lucifer’s name was uttered in his presence, the rage flooding his system usually prevented him from concentrating on anything else. The knife his once best friend had quite literally embedded in his back was not something Michael had ever thought he would forget. Until today. Today the all-encompassing fury was replaced with something feeling suspiciously like fear.
Zadkiel cocked his head to the side, studying Michael for a moment. Holding his breath, Michael waited for the smart-ass comment that never came.
“Asmodeus. He’s somewhere in the Houston area.”
As the air rushed from his lungs, Michael nodded, glancing away. If Asmodeus was in Houston he was far from Boston and Tory. “Gather a team and keep me informed. I want to know every move he makes before the bastard makes it.”
“Michael, what’s going on?”
Michael had turned to leave, wanting to gather a few things from his room before he returned to Tory, but Zadkiel’s quiet question stopped him in his tracks. He sighed. It wasn’t like he was particularly surprised. He didn’t usually get involved in the hunt unless it was for one of the top-ten ruling archdemons. He commanded and his lieutenants followed. It was how things had worked before Ariadne had pulled him into this mess. Before Tory.
“I have the chance to fix things with Gabriel. It’s a long shot, but a shot nonetheless, and one I can’t pass up.”
“What? How?”
Michael smiled at Zadkiel’s surprised excitement. He’d have shared Zadkiel’s joy if only he didn’t fear there was much more at risk than Gabriel’s friendship. Michael suspected his entire way of life was in peril, his very soul in jeopardy.
“I believe I know what Asmodeus is after, but I do not understand why. There is a human he hunts, one I have vowed to protect.” At Zadkiel’s cocked eyebrow, Michael sighed. “It is a long story, but Ariadne’s spirit had latched onto the human and it was to her I have given my vow. I can only hope once Asmodeus has been destroyed and the human’s safety is ensured, my debt to Gabriel will have been repaid.”
“Just like that?” Zadkiel questioned, his tone laced with skepticism.
Glancing over his shoulder, Michael shrugged. Truly, he doubted it, but it was the first chance he’d ever gotten to repair the mess with Gabriel. He suspected the only way he’d ever receive Gabriel’s forgiveness was by experiencing the soul-crushing death of a mate. His mate. And Michael swore there wasn’t a chance in hell of that ever occurring. His job did not include a mate, no matter what Victoria Bloom made him feel.
“Let me deal with this human, Michael. If you vowed to protect her, wouldn’t it make more sense for you to lead the hunt? There is no one more capable.”
Michael turned back to Zadkiel. Here was his chance. Though he had given his vow to Ariadne, technically since she was not the one who had called him into the circle, he was not required to uphold his end and he could send Zadkiel in his place. And his lieutenant was correct. Relations with humans were not exactly his forte. Hell, he’d probably end up doing more harm than good. So why did the thought of Zadkiel anywhere near Tory make him want to hit something?
The answer was something Michael would rather not consider, though he knew. Deep in his heart, he knew.
“While nothing would give me greater pleasure, the vow I gave was very explicit. I must ensure Tory’s protection.”
“Tory?” Zadkiel repeated quietly and hearing her name on his lieutenant’s lips reinforced Michael’s belief. He was screwed with a capital S. He tightened his fists to keep from popping his second in the mouth.
“Care to elaborate?” Zadkiel glanced down at Michael’s clenched fingers.
“No.” And with that snarled pronouncement, Michael stormed from the room, taking the flight of stairs two steps at a time. Stopping only when the door to his bedroom was closed tightly behind him, he was glad he had not run into anyone else. Of course, the look on his face probably would have dissuaded even the most persistent. Well, except for maybe Raphael. He enjoyed tweaking Michael’s temper for his own sadistic amusement, but since Raphael had no cause to be here Michael felt relatively safe. But just in case, maybe he should see about keeping Raphael busy for a while. Which lead his thoughts back to Tory. He definitely didn’t need Raphael showing up in the middle this assignment.
Damn it. He didn’t need this mess right now.
But the one thing Michael knew was there was no avoiding it. Few angels suspected the truth about mating, and the small minority who had found theirs believed themselves to be the exception. It was a lie, of course. Across time, across space, across dimensions, there was a soul mate out there for each one of them. Angels had been created with the capacity for great love, and what grander love existed than the unselfish bonding of two individuals?
Stuffing articles of clothing into a duffel, Michael tried to ignore the dismay that always overcame him when he considered those early days, when Earth had been discovered and some angels had set off to occupy the planet. It was then the first changes had begun, when Lucifer had first met Lilith, when the first visions of hell had been conceived.
Sighing, Michael zipped the bag closed. He’d fought it, strived to keep Lucifer and Lilith apart, just as he’d attempted to dissuade Gabriel away from Ariadne. But neither had listened to his misgivings, and he’d been right. Both instances had turned out disastrously. Now it seemed it was his turn. Would history repeat itself once again? Or would the Fates look more kindly upon him?
Doubtful. Those bitches hated him.
Raphael had once suggested bribing the trio. With chocolate. Shaking his head, Michael’s lips formed into a small smile. Raphael was always unintentionally pissing them off and getting his ass burned in the process. Michael, on the other hand, had never cared one way or the other. Guess it helped the Fates were terrified of him.
Throwing the duffel over his shoulder, Michael left his room, wondering if this was the last time he would be gracing these four walls. Or was he destined to return a haunted shell like Gabriel?
Maybe he should pay the Fates a visit, see if Tory had crossed their notice. But then he decided that would just be asking for trouble. No need drawing attention if there wasn’t any.
Exiting the Hall of Powers, Michael surveyed the landscaping making up Heaven. It was one of many different dimensions. There were others, like Hell, Fairie, Merwood and Earth, where humans and those with human origins could travel between, but it was believed the only entrance into Heaven for those earthbound was through death. Michael was one of the few who knew differently. It was another lie, propagated to prevent the fallen from attempting to surge the Pearly Gates. If they could only find them. Finding the entrance to Heaven, that was the trick.
Michael and the rest of the angels were not tied to the Earth like their human counterparts, but aside from that fact, they had far more in common with the species then most would be willing to admit. Hell, humans were the children of angels, after all.
Damn Kronos and Rhea for starting this mess. If they’d kept their hands off each other he wouldn’t be in his current position.
Shaking his head, Michael concentrated on his intended target, visualizing Tory before teleporting back to her. A moment passed as he tried to get his bearings. The small enclosure was hot and filled with a fine mist that obscured his vision. It took Michael those few seconds to determine where he was, and when he finally did the duffel slid from his fingers. Tory was before him, naked as the day she’d been born, standing under the spray of water, a clear glass door the only thing separating them.
For one split second, Michael wondered how long it would take him to strip off his clothes and join her.
>
Blonde hair, darkened by the flow of water, cascaded down a slender back, the ends coming to rest an inch or two above a tight, heart-shaped ass. His body tightened, his dick lengthening and hardening against the zipper of his jeans. Then Tory turned and Michael almost swallowed his tongue.
Dipping her head under the shower head, she arched her back, thrusting small, perky breasts into the air. Involuntarily, his hands rose, reaching for those mounds and the cherry-tipped nipples proudly on display. Barely taller than a pixie, Tory was mostly long sleek legs, legs he wanted wrapped around him.
Groaning softly, Michael clenched his fists, forcing them back down to his sides. What he wouldn’t give to drop to his knees, burying his face in the blonde curls shielding her sex; to free his dick and sink into bliss. Harder than steel and pulsing with need, his dick more than agreed. But his brain, the sliver not blood deprived, recognized something was wrong with the scene before him, and he desperately clung to that thought.
Then it hit him.
“Why the hell aren’t you where I left you, safe within the circle of protection?” he bellowed, causing Tory to let loose a shriek, her hands jerking in a vain attempt to shield her nakedness from his view. But her image had been burned into his mind and Michael already recognized what a lost cause it was. He would have her, of which there was no doubt. The question was would he be able to keep her?
Eyes wide, Tory stared at him, and Michael wondered if maybe he had been right when he’d first believed her to be dim-witted. It would just be his luck. There was little he found more irritating than stupidity and incompetence. His time with her would be doomed before it ever even began.
“Get me a towel,” she finally snapped, and when he didn’t jump to do her bidding, Tory added, “Now.”
For such a little thing, she sure had balls.
“Well, don’t just stand there.”
Michael barely suppressed the grin from breaking free. “Maybe if you asked nicely I would be more inclined to do your bidding. Otherwise, I can continue to enjoy the view.”