Angel Lover

by Tricia Skinner

  “Explain.”

  “He…spoke flirtations.”

  “Did you have carnal relations?”

  A gasp nearly exploded from her parted lips. She regained control of her emotions under Mastema’s scrutiny. “We met in a public place.”

  If he noticed she’d left off the “sir,” he didn’t react.

  “I believe you said she understood the gravity of this mission.” Thankfully, Mastema’s attention had diverted from her to Rahab. “Clearly, sending this undesirable to beguile the half-breed was ill considered.”

  Anger suffused Mariel’s body until she thought her bones would crack from the tautness.

  “I agree that part of the mission was an abject failure, but do you not find it peculiar the woman is even alive?” Rahab asked.

  Mastema eyed her with disgust. “Go on.”

  “Kasdeja spared her after she revealed her association with us. He should have killed her, per his standing orders. She is his enemy, as much as we.”

  The cold smirk on their leader’s face was more unnerving than she could have fathomed. “Mercy? Why did he show you mercy?”

  She had tried to figure that out on her drive back to base. Before she muttered a reply, Rahab spoke up. “Perhaps a broken angel touched his humanity.”

  The two perfect angels shared a good laugh at her expense, but she wondered at her superior’s words. Kas was half human, and according to what little she understood about his origins, he might be more attuned to emotions, which angels dreaded and repressed.

  Emotions he stirred in her.

  “You shall meet with him again,” Mastema said, observing her closely. “Draw him to you in any manner necessary. Give him whatever he requires. We shall see if you survive another encounter with the abomination.”

  Once again she would play the temptress. Her chest sank at the thought. “Yes, sir.”

  “What of the other half-breeds, old friend?” Mastema asked Rahab.

  “Each member of the Bound is tied to the other in some fashion. They even accept the angel Tanis without question, as their father,” he said in a contempt-layered tone.

  “Tanis,” Mastema hissed, moving to the opposite table of instruments. “I once believed the injuries he had suffered would kill him. I should never have left the task to another.”

  Mariel knew an ancient grudge existed but little else. “Sir, the Bound One’s hesitation may have more to do with the Directorate.”

  Mastema carried a tray of test tubes across the room, careful not to jostle the black liquids inside. Placing the collection next to the microdissection machine, the angel opened a petri dish and selected one tube. “You believe he fears those fools enough to ignore this opportunity? Fear is weakness.”

  “Sir, he mentioned his hatred of his superiors several times,” she added, “so it could be he worries over their potential wrath toward his team.”

  “I chose the mind reader to complete the next phase,” Mastema said as he continued his work. “If his choice is not as predicted, you know the outcome.”

  The Bound Ones were a key in their plans. To what those plans were, she’d not been privy. “Sir, his ability poses no threat to you or Rahab, not with the conditioning I have performed after you accepted me.”

  Flatly delivered, her response shouldn’t raise suspicions. Kas had spared her. This gesture was all she offered in return. From now, she considered them even.

  “We prefer Kasdeja. There are others in the Bound who have angelic talents that would require more effort to control, but it would not be impossible.” Rahab’s icy gaze held hers. “If the half-breed does not accept our offer, I will kill him myself.”

  Chapter Seven

  Walking the two-acre backyard of the Renegades’ headquarters did little to ease Mariel’s exhaustion. After being dismissed from the lab, she’d removed her cloak in reckless hope the night air might soothe the pain from her burning shoulders and back.

  Not even a puff of breeze accepted the challenge.

  She trudged across the trimmed grass and stumbled onto the pea-gravel walkway leading to her front steps. Holy Father, if she could only fly again. The instant the image crossed her mind, phantom wings sent a spasm through her. Her footsteps faltered, and she gripped the wood railing to keep from falling. A metallic flavor touched her tongue, and she belatedly realized she’d bitten the inside of her cheek.

  “Keep moving,” she said aloud.

  Against a blue-black sky, a Renegade descended toward the back of the mansion. As she watched his perfect landing, the black feathers that marked his fallen brethren fluttered in the wind.

  Rapid breaths pushed through her nose. Her wings once had been beautiful and cloud white. God of All, she’d loved flying. More than anything, she missed soaring through open spaces, buffeted by cool winds, untouchable and lost in the precious freedom of floating. The memory turned into yet another ache that punched through her soul and settled stone-like in her stomach.

  What was an angel without wings? Not an angel.

  Despite the pain, she set her spine and made walking her sole priority. Just keep moving.

  She’d had plenty of time to get used to being an outsider, whether in Heaven or on Earth. Even among the Renegades, angels despised failure and admired beauty most of all. So they most certainly thought even less of scarred freaks.

  At the front door, she typed her access code into the security display. Unconsciously, she stroked the scar that had thickened at her neck. Angels didn’t like reminders that they could be captured, or broken, or destroyed.

  Mariel swallowed past the bitter memories turning her throat hot. She kicked off her boots after entering, her mind drifting back to the night’s encounter. Recruiting Kas would take extreme care. If he would even listen.

  The unsettling news that the fallen angels could remove the binding on the Nephilim’s powers was a complication she hadn’t anticipated.

  She stumbled to her bedroom closet, paused to listen to the night sounds drifting into the room, and pulled a plastic step stool from under a pile of discarded clothes. Balanced, she removed the false plank from the ceiling and carefully tugged the small backpack from its hidden nook.

  Outside, crickets sang undisturbed, which was exactly what she wanted to hear. If she’d had an unexpected visitor, the loss of chirping was Mother Nature’s alarm system.

  The purple communication orb shimmered under the closet light. She concentrated, and the heat from her Grace warmed the orb.

  “This call is unscheduled.” Kaonos’s arctic tone flowed through the supernatural device.

  “There is a problem. They have told me to enlist one of the Bound.”

  The angel’s voice dipped an octave. “Which half-breed?”

  “Kasdeja,” Mariel replied. “They offered to remove the binding.”

  “The ritual cannot be completed outside the Chamber of Healing. How will they accomplish the task?”

  How many times would the Directorate’s head of security ignore her warnings? She’d be better off dealing directly with the board. “They do not trust me with the how, and I doubt they ever will. Mastema has little or no trust in the other Renegades, only Rahab.”

  The high cost she’d paid to gain access to the secretive organization bubbled in her veins.

  But a decade spent infiltrating the Renegades’ organization wore on her. The spy mission provided her superiors a way to track the enemy, but rarely had they acted. Her immortal life was constantly at risk.

  “Move forward with their request,” Kaonos said. “Offer the abomination their prize for betrayal, but ensure he does not learn anything useful.”

  “I have done so.”

  “Without my sanction?”

  As if his micromanaging was required. “There was not time.”

  “Well, what happened?”

  “He rejected the offer.”

  “Did he? Interesting,” Kaonos said. “Sweeten the offer. Tell the half-breed you’ve seen proof the
binding can be removed. Push him to accept.”

  “Kasdeja is not a fledgling,” Mariel said, not caring if she sounded incredulous. “He will have suspicions, and his mind reading is an issue. I cannot keep him blocked at all times.”

  “So you cannot complete your mission?”

  When the Directorate had enlisted her to infiltrate the enemy, she’d agreed for two reasons. First, they’d forgive her the loss of the team under her command. Second, they’d grant her Renewal, the healing ritual she craved to return to full angel status. She’d get her wings back.

  She measured her response. “Not at all. Kasdeja will not find what he seeks.”

  The orb cooled after the call disconnected from Heaven’s side. Keeping secrets was nothing new, but keeping a Nephilim from Ascension—freedom for his angelic soul—would require all her training, all her resolve, to pull off.

  Once in the bathroom, she gazed at her reflection over the sink. “Tinker, tailor, soldier, spy.”

  What would Kas think if he learned the woman he’d pegged a traitor actually spied for their mutual employer?

  She removed the facons, long daggers she’d strapped against her legs. The blades had been a celebratory gift from Pharia, the newest member of her former team.

  Her fingers froze at her waist. Pharia, Forfax, Xaphan, Hamaliel, and Bagnae. She’d thought of them ceaselessly, never forgetting their faces, their voices, or their deaths.

  “I miss you, my friends.”

  The painful shower didn’t last long. Dried, clothed, and pondering her next move, Mariel’s thoughts centered on the handsome target she’d need to snare. If the Nephilim was as weak to a woman’s charms as Rahab suggested, then she should try to woo him again.

  The question was how.

  She ran a finger over her smartphone and opened a text window. “Are you hungry?”

  A stupid question, but she sent it anyway.

  “Asking me out, little angel?” came Kas’s reply.

  In spite of herself, she smirked and typed, “Does food not tame the savage half human?”

  “I could eat. Where?”

  Mariel took her meals in the mansion or at her cottage. That wouldn’t do. “Suggestions welcome.”

  “Six Mile Road. Jimmy’s BBQ joint. One hour.”

  Looking away from his texted response and out the window, Mariel failed at suppressing her smile.

  Chapter Eight

  Kas arrived at his favorite low-key restaurant on full alert, all sensors tuned up. The dinner invitation had him so dazed, he’d actually read the message several times, then he’d jumped from his bed and torn through his closet like a teenage boy on his first date.

  This was not a date, he repeated over and over. If he was lucky, Mariel would arrive alone, but he wasn’t counting on that scenario. If her associates planned to attack, he was ready.

  Under his sport coat were a few extra weapons to even the odds. He even wore his earpiece to summon the team, not that they’d arrive in time to do more than scrape his internal organs off the walls.

  “Well, well. If it ain’t mah retirement plan in the flesh.”

  Kas grinned and faced the warm smile of the proprietor, Jimmy Stewart. The Bound lived to devour the human’s barbecue meals. The African American was blessed with a godlike ability to cook ribs, brisket, chicken, and any other animal that made customers worship at his sneakered feet.

  “How you doing, old-timer?”

  Jimmy scowled up at him. Only five-foot-eight, his dark brows did an admirable job of conveying his displeasure. “You ain’t so big I can’t serve up a knuckle sammich wit’ a side of kiss mah ass.”

  Hands raised in surrender, Kas waved off the Texan. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Just here to eat.”

  A full ivory grin reappeared. “Well, now you talkin’ sense. Sit yo’ butt down and lemme get a tray started.”

  He followed the order and strode through the restaurant. The place hadn’t changed since his last visit. The same framed photographs of celebrities who’d dined there covered every inch of wall. Everyone knew Jimmy’s was the place to go for droolworthy food.

  Despite the late hour, the place had a good crowd. The owner had one standing rule: everyone eats. Race, species, religion, color, sexual orientation—the restaurant admitted all, and no one caused trouble.

  He headed to a booth in back, far from the door but close to the kitchen. Jimmy had shown the Bound the area so they had a way to slip in or out if called away suddenly.

  After a quick check on each patron’s location, Kas settled in. Barely ten minutes passed when he saw the woman who’d made the surprising invitation, and he choked.

  Mariel stood at the entrance, the wind from outside lightly brushing her brown bob around her face. She wore sunglasses again, but the rest of her outfit was new—and striking. Her knee-high leather boots lay against her athletic legs like a spray tan. His gaze hitched at the honeyed skin of her thighs, then he forced himself to move up to her navy-blue dress. Loose fitting, the hem billowed with the breeze, so that the ends flitted up as if to tease him with a private view.

  Kas’s mouth went dry. He couldn’t swallow enough saliva to gulp.

  “First time I seen you struck dumb as a cord of wood,” Jimmy said next to his table. “That pretty lady here fo’ you?”

  She saw him, and he absently nodded.

  The black man sighed and placed a heaping tray of various cooked meats on the table. “Lord, get this boy some sense.”

  The smack to the back of Kas’s head snapped him out of his ogling. “What was that for?”

  “Lady standing in a doorway ’spects a gentleman come get her, fool.”

  Shit, shit, shit. He sprang from his seat and two-stepped it until he was face-to-face with the vision of pure beauty. At the last moment, he remembered his caution and glanced behind her.

  “I am alone, Kasdeja,” she said, a hint of humor tracing her words.

  “It’s Kas. Just checking.”

  Mariel’s head tilted past him to the restaurant’s interior like a consummate pro.

  “Same.”

  Her wide smile practically melted his knees. He extended his arm, and she followed his direction and walked toward the corner booth. Gentleman or not, the swish of her hips demanded he stare. She must have practiced the enticing move since they’d last met.

  He waited until she was seated then slid in next to her. Nerves jumped under his skin and made his brain shut down. No woman should look so hot.

  “I have not been here before,” Mariel said, her eyes still hidden. “The aroma is most agreeable.”

  With those few words, he couldn’t mistake her Otherness. It was almost comical how proper angels were when they spoke, but he found her precision speech pattern kind of cute.

  “Good place, good food. Said you wanted to eat.”

  “I did.”

  That sensual voice could give a man ideas. Maybe he could convince her to read the menu out loud. He hadn’t paid close attention to the lilt in her voice or the subtle way her lips moved as she spoke. He did now.

  “You must be curious why I asked you to meet me again.”

  Kas sobered and leaned back. “Crossed my mind.”

  The food on the tray sent delicious tendrils of steam around them. A rumble sounded from Mariel’s stomach. Her eyes widened and a tantalizing rose color settled in her cheeks.

  “You actually wanted to have dinner,” he said, surprise flaring as brightly as her skin.

  “Yes.”

  “Is this a date?”

  She glanced at her hands. “To an extent.”

  This is nuts. He was on a date with an angel. “Why?” He hadn’t meant the question to sound like an accusation, but the sudden stiffness in her shoulders told him she’d taken it exactly that way. He rushed on, saying, “I didn’t expect to hear from you.”

  Mariel sipped from the glass of water Jimmy must have left. “Our last meeting ended poorly. I came to apologize.”

  Ha
d she wings, a single feather could have knocked him on his ass at her response. “What?”

  She removed her sunglasses, and the bright silver of her eyes caused his chest to tighten. The reminder of who Mariel was and whom she worked for settled over him. The enemy. That’s who she would always be. Kas put himself on alert once more.

  “I apologize for not finding a better way to provide the information I had. The fight—”

  “We ain’t friends, so save the apology,” he said on a near growl.

  Something close to disappointment seemed to mar her smooth features, and he had the urge to take his words back.

  “That was my intention. A meal and an apology.”

  He wanted that to be true. He wanted it badly enough to analyze each word over and over. She liked him. That was clear. However, why was still a mystery.

  “What game we playing now, little angel?” Kas asked. “Your asshole bosses tell you to soften me up, make me pliable so I’ll take their offer?”

  Mariel looked away. He watched her a moment then gazed at the people sitting at tables and booths. Only then did he notice how many couples sat enjoying a night out. One pair ignored their meal, engrossed in groping and kissing. The man’s hand slid up the woman’s thigh, disappearing beneath her skirt.

  Kas cut a glance to his dinner companion. Eyes focused on the pair, her lips parted and her tongue swiped the bottom one. Kas mimicked her, his fingers twitching to touch her. He couldn’t shake the idea. He hadn’t lied when he said dangerous women hit all his buttons, but at this moment, he couldn’t recall any names. Mariel had wiped all others from his mind.

  “They’re supposed to be devouring the food,” Kas said, still studying his guest.

  “They seem…distracted.”

  “If his hands go anywhere interesting, she’ll react and we’ll know.”

  Mariel’s head snapped around. “They would not dare.”

  “What would you do if they did?”

  A deer-in-headlights look appeared on her face. “I…would ask them to remove themselves and take their affection to a more appropriate location.”