Angel Lover

by Tricia Skinner

  She shook her head and an uncomfortable silence descended after the waitress left. The action of a Red Wings hockey game above the bar had everyone’s attention except Kas and his secretive guest. The weight of her hidden gaze likely matched the one he leveled her way.

  When the beer arrived, he left it untouched. “Now, why am I here?”

  Mariel leaned forward. “I have information.”

  Kas waited.

  “How well do you know the politics in this city?”

  Odd icebreaker. He eased back and hooked his arm over the chair. “Well enough.”

  “Most major cities operate smoothly. Each species follow rules set by their leaders,” she said. “There are also laws for all, and for the most part, the laws are followed.”

  “Old news,” Kas replied, a faint smile on his lips. “Fast-forward to the good stuff.”

  The line of her jaw ticked, then she said, “Only one city is different. Detroit has its share of lawbreakers, but it’s the only place where extreme enforcers reside. The Bound Ones. Your team.”

  Kas took a swig of his beer and hid his faltering grin. His team was known for their occupation, and while various public safety divisions trusted them to handle their business, a few remained uneasy about an assassin brotherhood within city limits.

  He lowered the bottle and indulged in the sight of the woman across from him. Her speech was refined, not gutter rat, as he’d expected. She also had all her teeth, so dental insurance wasn’t an issue. Despite the mediocre disguise, he liked what he saw.

  “Get to the info.”

  “Does that not intrigue you?”

  “Nope.”

  Mariel pursed her lips, a move he found particularly sexy. “Kasdeja, technology and electronics expert of the Bound Ones. Born in the second millennium BC.”

  He strained to appear unfazed. His heartbeat, however, ramped up. “Go on.”

  “You are Nephilim, the only child of a former watcher angel and a human female,” she continued in monotone. “The Directorate are your superiors.”

  Intelligent and resourceful. He revised the profile he’d begun in his head. Kas’s gaze hardened at the shrouded woman. She calmly faced him, the lower part of her exposed face blank of expression.

  “You primarily answer to the leader of the Bound, an angel named Tanis.” Mariel entwined her fingers on the table. “A few months ago, he was badly wounded in an altercation with local police. You consider Jarrid, Nestaron, and Cain to be brothers, though none of you are related by blood. Shall I continue?”

  His pulse drummed behind his temple. Regular informants didn’t have access to personal data on him or any of the team, not unless they had powerful friends who could produce the intel.

  Who was she? He’d remember if they’d met before, but nothing came to mind. Right now, Mariel’s facts coiled his gut tight. Ally or enemy? He slid his hand to the dagger at his waist.

  “You are not what I expected,” she said.

  “Too handsome?”

  She dipped her head and fumbled with her fingers. “You are not unpleasant to view.”

  The comment came out shyly, as if her impression of him was a real surprise. Too bad she wasn’t in a respectable line of work, because he wanted to press her for what she’d expected him to be.

  Instead, he controlled the temptation to use his Grace to read her thoughts. The bar contained too many eyes and ears. If she were there to cause him trouble, he’d prefer taking her down without the witnesses.

  “Seems like you know one or two things about me. Want to reciprocate?”

  “I am not an interesting subject,” Mariel said.

  “You interest me.” The words left his mouth smokier than intended.

  Her lips parted, and she shifted in the chair. “I cannot understand why.”

  Again her tone whispered secrets. Kas had flirted with hundreds of women and enjoyed the byplay, but she wasn’t kicking off the right vibe. The nails of her thumb and middle finger clicked together. If Mariel wanted to play the seduction game, he’d play.

  He skimmed his fingers on the table surface. “Need me to give bullet points?”

  She wet her lips and barely offered a nod.

  Yeah, time to play.

  “Dangerous women excite me.” He leaned back, his legs open and his tone sultry.

  “I am not—”

  “You are, and you do.”

  Now she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Kas struck again. “Mysterious women give me ideas.”

  Two very busy hands stilled. “What kind of ideas?”

  Images filled his head, and Mariel featured in all of them. First he’d peel that cloak off her just like unwrapping a birthday gift. He’d touch the golden skin that snared his interest then tilt her head so he could soothe the lower lip trapped between her teeth. Tracing the scar at her neck, the slopes of her breasts and the curve of her ass—all would receive the same treatment. And when she moaned his name, he’d discover if she was as insecure as she appeared. The throb below his waist liked the idea.

  Ally or enemy? Dammit. He had to know.

  Kas rose slowly from the table but kept the chair in front of his bulge. He lowered his head until her light, soapy scent drifted close. “Let’s take this conversation somewhere private.”

  …

  Mariel gazed up at the attractive half angel and wrestled with the terms of her mission. Up close, his hulking torso strained against his T-shirt at the forearms, biceps, and chest. All of it complimented fat-free cheekbones and waist-length sable hair that disappeared behind him. That was not the fashion she’d seen on most men, but the healthy-looking strands made him appear Native American, an Apache or maybe Cherokee. Add his denim jeans and multicolored shirt, and Kas seemed to be a man both cool and unpredictable.

  And his comments had reduced her to a gawking, speechless new recruit. Even now her throat remained dry, but other sensations demanded analysis.

  “Mysterious women give me ideas.” He’d never explained the meaning, but her closest translation made her fingers twitch to touch him. The half angel didn’t seem the type to do anything boring. She struggled to suppress her interest.

  Had she succeeded in seducing him? Her inexperience with such subterfuge worried her. In the past, her colleagues had offered her physical distraction. A male’s body was pleasurable, or at least the last time she’d taken a partner she’d thought so. After the failed mission, no one touched her.

  At any rate, Rahab hadn’t left her time to purchase clothing appropriate for seduction. Her plain black pants and matching tank top hidden by the cloak were all she could fashion with her limited resources.

  “Coming?”

  Mariel studied him from behind her sunglasses. She was a fool. This disguise hindered her fumbling attempt at enticing the Nephilim. She should have delayed the meeting until she looked the part of a sexy female. Still, Kas wanted to converse in private, and he seemed eager.

  She rose from her chair and smiled a little. “Where shall we go?”

  “Just a drive.”

  She noticed his too calm response conflicted with the stiff lines in his face and shoulders. She swiped her clammy palms against her cloak as a slight edge of panic set in. His hand rested on a dagger, sending warning beeps through her head.

  “I am here to help you,” she said with a nod to his weapon.

  “So you’ve said.” Kasdeja raked his gaze over her. “Who gave you the info on my team?”

  “The same people who wanted us to talk.”

  “Names.”

  “Of course. Have you changed your mind about leaving?”

  The mission objectives replayed in her head. She would deliver the Renegades’ message and their offer, and then the Nephilim would choose to agree, or not. If he didn’t…

  Mariel didn’t hide her pouty frown. Rahab had told her to make the offer impossible to refuse. Her feminine wiles apparently hadn’t helped one bit. That left the information on the removal of th
e binding.

  She adjusted her cloak to cover a slight tremor in her hands. “A drive would provide ample time to continue conversing.”

  The Nephilim’s size matched all angel-kind. He had a warrior’s body. Though her eyewear subdued his rich skin tone, she wished it could dull his attractiveness.

  Conscious of the imposing man walking behind her, she changed her stride and adopted a sway in her hips she’d noticed the waitresses used. Three steps later, her knees clipped and her gait wobbled. She overcorrected and stumbled into one of the seated humans.

  “Hey, baby,” said the surprised man. “Come sit on Big Papa’s lap.”

  Her whole body flushed with embarrassment. “No, thank you.”

  She straightened and strode from the bar without checking how much the half angel had seen. God of All, she wasn’t trained for this. Now she realized just how stupid—and reckless—Rahab’s plan might be and how expendable he viewed her. Kasdeja wouldn’t be won over with a few words and a coy smile. If he decided she was trouble, the dagger at his waist wouldn’t stay sheathed.

  Outside, the streetlight in front of the bar threw a circle of weak illumination, but she welcomed the wind against her scorched skin.

  “You break something?”

  Mariel peeked over her shoulder. “What do you mean?”

  Kasdeja’s face scrunched up. “Looked like you dislocated a joint back there.”

  Humiliating. No more sexy hips. She continued walking without the sway. “Where did you park?”

  A firm hand clamped onto her arm and spun her.

  “No more stalling,” the Nephilim said. “We talk here.”

  Mariel tipped her head to his hand lock, flattened her lips, and then stared straight into his determined face. “Let go.”

  After a long beat, he complied. Gone was the flirtatious half angel who’d summoned warm shivers across her skin. The man before her was all business. Before her stood a half-breed.

  She stepped back to increase their distance. “I have been asked to bring you an offer from my associates.”

  He stepped forward, causing the cushion of air between them to evaporate. “Spit it out.”

  “The Bound are tools the Directorate use when it’s convenient.” Mariel raised her chin to face him down. “You are little more than servants, despised for your breeding, unwanted except for your skills, but in all ways insignificant to Heaven.”

  The hot fan of Kasdeja’s breath billowed under her hood, washing her senses. His aroma was masculine and earthy and six degrees of bad news.

  “You paid attention in half-breeds 101, I’ll give you points for that,” he said in a low tone.

  The assassin’s eyes glowed with the power of his angelic soul, and belatedly, Rahab’s warning rung in her head. He’s a mind reader.

  It took only a moment before tingles spread over her brain. She fired her Grace a few seconds too late.

  Kasdeja swore and pushed inside her head. “Who can remove the binding?”

  The odd pressure increased, and she allowed her power to envelop it.

  “What the hell?” He sucked in a breath. “Static?”

  “Back off.” Adrenaline coursed through Mariel’s body. He’d caught her guard down. Had he read anything else in her mind? It was time she left. Staying would turn this into a suicide mission.

  “Since you will not listen to me, someone else can deliver the message.”

  Her heart lodged in her throat, she turned away. If Kasdeja pressed, he wouldn’t like what he found. Rahab would just have to find another way to get his cooperation.

  The Nephilim grabbed her shoulder and squeezed. “You’re coming with me.”

  Training instincts kicked in. She slammed her elbow into his abdomen and cracked the back of her fist into his throat. Kasdeja coughed but recovered too quickly. He reached for her again, and she blocked his arm with hers. He switched to his other arm, and she matched the move.

  She had once fought demons on the plains of Damascus. She’d hunted dark elves in their underground cities. She’d survived the ambush that had left her team—her friends—dead. No way on earth would a lone Nephilim bring her down.

  Desperation fed her, and Mariel pressed her attack, but suppressed her strength. If she could do some damage, she’d make it back to the Renegades while Kasdeja remained alive. She spun a roundhouse kick toward the half angel’s stomach, but he knocked her leg aside. He smoothly dodged her punches but purposely avoided leveling a few of his own.

  She grappled for a way to end the fight. This was a mistake, and she wondered why she refused to cause him unnecessary harm. Feigning a jab to the left, she struck his face on the right. His head snapped to the side, his long, loose hair flying. A lucky hit.

  Kasdeja swept one of her legs. Twisting, she narrowly missed a face-plant into the pavement and rolled away from his boot before it collided with her side.

  The fight had moved them deeper into the parking lot. Half a dozen cars and trucks, parked inside and outside the painted lines, made maneuvering dicey. The Nephilim’s arm came around faster than she expected and slapped her into a spin.

  Mariel reached toward the blades hidden in her boots but changed her mind. She stared at him and caught the stormy menace in his eyes. Distracted, she failed to avoid the back of his arm as it drove into her stomach.

  The air whooshed from her lungs and Kasdeja pressed in, not giving her time to regain a breath. He locked his large hands over her wrists, lifted her off her feet, and shoved her, suspended by her wrists, against a brick wall. A sunburst exploded behind her eyes. Agony blasted through her body and escaped her mouth in a sharp cry.

  “Damn you. I should bury you,” the assassin said in a choppy voice.

  To her utter shock, he eased his hold and then yanked off her cloak. Night air fanned across her heated skin.

  She pulled off her sunglasses and glared into his eyes.

  “God of All.”

  With her cloak removed, Kasdeja could see her damaged body. Open surprise washed over his face, his expression a blend of shock and denial. When he stepped away, she closed a mental door on her disappointment. He’d reacted just like everyone else.

  “Your eyes,” he said. “Can’t be. You can’t fucking be.”

  Mariel kept her mouth shut, held her head high, and fisted her hands at her sides. She still had a mission to complete.

  “You’re an angel…without wings.”

  Chapter Four

  A spitball could have knocked Kas flat on his ass, because he’d be damned if he believed what he gawked at. For the moment, his vocal cords seized, but that was cool. He wasn’t forming many complete thoughts, since a woman with the silver eyes of an angel glared at him.

  The reddish bricks served as an urban backdrop for Mariel’s exposed body. The thick scar along her neck disappeared behind her back—a back that didn’t have wings.

  The swift ascent of his anger threatened to shake him apart. Heat accumulated in his fists. Some asshole had chopped off Mariel’s wings and left her an abomination, a cruel punishment for a race that thought beauty and purity started with feathers.

  Without the disguise, everything he’d guessed about her looks proved startlingly true. Large almond-shaped eyes peered at him under generous lashes. Not ripped, yet toned enough to give her clothes an attractive fit—his perusal swept over the glow of her skin, the contours of her face, and the confident stance of her posture.

  No doubt—Mariel had been a soldier. A very beautiful soldier.

  “What happened to you?”

  The look she threw could sear a T-bone. “That is not the purpose of our meeting. If you have completed your observations, we can finish our talk.”

  Her prickly reply struck him, but before he could answer, Mariel winced and doubled over, a pained hitch trapping her next breath. All too familiar with the sound of pain, especially when he’d caused it, he mentally kicked his own ass. He shouldn’t have forced the fight in the first place.
r />   “Lemme check the damage.”

  “Do not touch me.”

  He stifled a dozen curses and eyed her back. “There’s blood. Talk while I look.”

  Drawing closer, he began rolling the shirt up, but Mariel straightened and pulled away.

  “Save your pity, Nephilim.”

  Kas dropped his attempt to help. “How’d it happen?”

  Not that he expected her to answer. The wingless angel had more secrets than the NSA, which was why he almost missed it when she mumbled, “I failed on a mission. The Directorate chose my punishment.”

  Outrage slammed him the moment she said the name of the ruling angel board. A-grade assholes, every one. He wasn’t surprised they’d leveled such a harsh penalty against a soldier under their command. The Bound Ones were living examples of the board’s ruthlessness, but to remove an angel’s wings would make her an outcast in Heaven.

  Pity was a rare emotion, but he felt it tickling up his spine. “Then you’re not from—”

  “I was sent into exile, alone, until I found others willing to take me in.”

  Willing to take her in? A disgraced angel wouldn’t have many friends. It wasn’t like she’d fit in with silver eyes, so there was only one group she could have found refuge with.

  Renegades. A dagger was in his hand before he realized he’d grabbed it, but his grip tightened on the hilt. “I should gut you where you stand.”

  Mariel glanced at the blade with dulled eyes. “Do what you must, Kasdeja.”

  Her posture shifted minutely, but she made no move to defend herself. Would she just let him kill her? The dagger’s blade would make the death swift, merciful. He was Nephilim, a member of the Bound. This was his purpose. Snuff the enemy, whoever they were, wherever he found them.

  “Defend yourself,” he ordered. Was her angelic strength limited without her wings? She could fight, and that at least would give her an honorable death, if he got lucky.

  “I will not.”

  He expected rage, or begging. Hell, a sob would do, but whoever Mariel was, she was no simpering weakling. Why she refused to accept the chance he’d given her to save her life made about as much sense as why he’d provided it.