His lips trembled with the need to laugh. Instead, he drank from his water glass. Interestingly, Mariel watched him swallow several gulps.
“Don’t like PDAs, huh?”
She scrunched her face, eyebrows dipped in question.
“Public displays of affection,” he offered.
“Ah, yes. I mean, not that much…touching.”
Kas let the matter drop. He pointed to the platter. “First time here, right?” He cut and placed juicy pieces of brisket, pork ribs, and chicken on her plate. “Best to try everything. You can thank me later.”
A soft giggle left her, and she gifted him with a million-dollar smile. “I thank you now. This is a feast.”
He agreed, but not about the meal. Minus the eyes, she appeared to be a good-natured woman, although he’d not forgotten how she’d talked smack about his clothes when they first met. Her smile was worth earning any way possible.
They ate and chatted like two normal people without an agenda. Mariel had a sense of humor, but he had the impression it was rarely used. Okay, so her jokes were as corny as the ones his brothers used, but coming from her, well, he laughed every time.
“How can you not know what a meme is?” he asked halfway into the evening’s conversation.
“Spell it for me.”
Was she shitting him? “M-e-m-e. Meme.”
Mariel pursed her lips and dabbed at the barbecue sauce coating them. “I do not understand. What is its purpose?”
He clutched his chest and leaned back. “Angel, angel, angel. You’re wounding my geek heart. I’m gonna die right here. Do you even have fiber?”
She made a face. “Fiber what?”
Kas couldn’t help it. He faked an unmanly sob and was rewarded with the longest, deepest laugh from Mariel. God of All, he could enjoy hearing that sound every damned day. Apart from a lack of nerd blood, he liked her.
Awareness of his surroundings faded as every thought in his head slowed. Every sound muted. He saw only one person. He breathed in only her scent. The thump, thump, thump of his heartbeat sped up.
Kas had to know.
The moment his hand curled around the back of Mariel’s neck, he leaned close and kissed her. The startled protest disappeared when he licked across the soft lips that had drawn his attention earlier in the day.
A low moan rose, but whether it came from him or her, he had no idea and didn’t care. She tasted of forbidden fruits, of mystery and danger, of hidden passion and suppressed desire. And may the God of All forgive him, but Kas planned to enjoy every morsel.
…
Mariel was drowning. Emotions she couldn’t control, couldn’t analyze, couldn’t remember, struck her and left her floundering in her chair. Against her lips, in her mouth, the half angel battled her senses and left her only one option: to surrender, to give in to her desire.
Her hand crept up, and her fingers brushed the thick strands of his hair. She twined them, luxuriating in the rich weight, and tugged. The low groan he emitted shot down her body and found a home in her womanhood. The ache intensified and she squirmed in her chair, but that only caused the throbbing to worsen.
Was he equally affected? Bravery she was surprised she still possessed encouraged her to release his beautiful hair and seek his thigh until her fingers brushed the solid length of his hardness.
“Oh, Christ,” Kas groaned, spreading his legs.
She wanted him closer, but their table provided an effective barrier. He leaned into her kiss and, in that moment, she didn’t think her mission was half bad.
Her mission. Was she only doing what she’d been ordered? Was her desire real or part of an act?
The train of her thoughts broke the spell. Mariel snatched her hand back and scooted away from the half angel. Eyes sparkling with arousal, Kas stared at her with such hunger she had to resist the impulse to kiss him again.
After a brief moment, she calmed herself.
“You okay?” he asked, the concern in his voice echoed on his face.
“I did not wish to be hypocritical.” She glanced at the other table, but the affectionate couple had left. “We should return to our meal.”
His features softened, Kas eased back.
She felt sick. Had she seduced him? If so, she’d managed to do so accidentally. Despite her saucy attire, Mariel hadn’t known how she’d accomplish her goal. Now, with him looking so unguarded, she didn’t want what they’d shared to be subterfuge.
What she wanted was more laughter, more stories about internet culture, more of Kas. Where was her bias against half-breeds now? He was too likable, too generous with his feelings.
She touched her temple and rubbed. “I am sorry, but I feel unwell.”
“What? How? Angels don’t get sick.”
She stood quickly and only made it two steps.
“Where you going?” he asked, his grip on her wrist.
Mariel wouldn’t face him. What they’d done, what she’d allowed…she wanted this man for herself, not for a mission, but that could not be. Yearning for the Nephilim would bring neither of them joy. She had to find another way to bring him in without wanting him more. “I must go.”
“Explain.”
Her lips still tingled from his passionate kiss. “I must return. They will not be pleased I have gone.”
“Your bosses can wait.”
His angry tone grounded her. She faced him. “We cannot. I cannot.”
Now she saw the turmoil in his features, and she wished she could wipe it away. “I must, Kasdeja.”
“Back to full names, are we, little angel?”
Internally, the woman and the servant battled for dominance. Didn’t he sense this was wrong? How could she trap him when what she preferred was to give in? She’d never been the object of anyone’s intense desire, and here she was, walking away.
She dipped her head, unable to hold his gaze. “We will speak tomorrow.”
He released her wrist. “Go on then. Run back to your a-hole masters. Don’t want them thinking you’re cavorting with the enemy.”
Not moving an inch, Mariel curbed the tart reply on her lips. His eyes hardened, but the disappointment was there in his clenched jaw and folded arms. If she softened, if she allowed him to get too close, they would both pay a hefty penalty.
Willpower failed her as she reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “I answer to others who would take pleasure in causing us difficulty. Be patient, Kas.”
He looked at her hand then offered a silent nod. He wasn’t pleased, but at least he no longer seemed stung by her rejection. She forced herself to smile, and then she hurried from the restaurant.
Chapter Nine
Three days had passed since the dinner date. When Rahab had demanded progress reports, she’d told him she’d met with the Nephilim each night, embellishing her story of seduction so he came to accept her deception. Truth was, she drove through the far northern suburbs and stayed out as late as she dared, all to throw her superior off her trail. She’d figure out a way to bring Kas in without adding her body to the bargain. Though the idea did not come without the constant debate of mixing business with her craving of the fulfilling pleasure he’d undoubtedly provide.
Mariel inhaled the aromas of Greektown: rich pastries, sweet with honey and baked almonds, and pizzas, thick with sausages, three cheeses, and pepperoni. One slice weighed close to three pounds, a tempting reminder she’d only nibbled on pepper crackers and sipped tea before heading to meet Kas. She averted her eyes from the Fudge Factory, a den of evil for the fitness conscious.
Today Kas had texted, setting up a meeting in the busy tourist area. An imitation early-nineteenth-century clock on the side of the historic Sedgwick’s Shoe Store clanged eight o’clock. She’d arrived an hour early to give herself time to scout. He hadn’t mentioned if he’d come alone. She hoped he would, but she always prepared for a different scenario.
Her pulse ramped up merely thinking of the half angel. After the last few nights of
troubled sleep, she’d dragged herself to her laptop twice and accessed the file Rahab had sent over. Very little covered the period after Kas and the other members of the Bound were taken to Heaven as children. In fact, his childhood had been ignored altogether. The assassin’s exploits as a member of the brotherhood, however, could rewrite The Art of War. The Renegades had entries about various missions he’d served, captures he’d made—kills.
So many kills.
She moved along the pavement, passed the restaurant where they’d meet, and continued up the block.
Kas clearly excelled in his executioner’s role, which contrasted with his personality. The files made no note of his fondness for brightly colored rock music shirts and cowboy boots. He appeared out of time and that, mixed with his striking Native American features, showed his humor and his disinterest in conformity.
The insomnia wasn’t only due to researching him. Their kiss had lingered. The feel of his mouth on hers drove her to stare at the four walls of her bedroom, lost in the memory of touch and need and want. The warmth as they entwined could only have been passion, but that was not a common emotion for angels. Was that why it haunted her so?
The noises from the main stretch of Greektown faded into a low hum, and she found herself standing near a community of luxury townhouses under construction. She hadn’t realized how far she’d walked.
“Great job,” she said aloud then huffed.
“You look lost,” someone said. Murmurs of agreement came next.
Mariel heard shuffling around her and cursed under her breath. The outfit she’d chosen—skintight gray leggings under a cropped red top—likely made her look a little too easy to this bunch.
Five vampires skulked out of one of the units. Loudmouth was a hipster-in-training. Gold chains dangled from his thick white neck. She’d tag him at two forty, possibly two hundred sixty pounds. The glint from one gold-capped fang caught the beam from the overhead street light.
She stepped aside. “Do not let me interrupt you.”
The vamps spread out until all five surrounded her.
“I like this interruption, sexy thang.”
Street thugs always had to sound like school had been an afterthought. She adjusted her stance, her senses alert to the danger the group posed.
Her hands slipped to her hips. “Move, or regret it.”
Loudmouth grinned and his buddies gave almost imperceptible nods. “I was just tellin’ my crew I need a snack. You look scrumpalicious.” He slanted his eyes at another vampire. “We can be friendly.”
If they expected her to shrink away and beg, they’d get one hell of a surprise. Her Grace surged behind her eyes, washing the scene in crisp clarity. “Last chance to leave without pain.”
The group cackled and slapped one another’s backs and shoulders. A half smile crept to her lips. Well, she’d warned them.
The first brave fool lunged, fangs extended, and a snarl rippled from his throat. Mariel danced out of reach, dipped her hands into her boots, and unsheathed the dual facons. The elaborately decorated hilts warmed as her blood heated. She brought her hands up, slicing through the attacker’s fleece jacket.
He stumbled, glanced at the black stain spreading down his jeans, and grunted as he fell.
“Take this bitch down,” Loudmouth yelled.
The remaining four attacked at once. One bite, and they’d know she was an angel. As if her silver eyes hadn’t already told them. Her Grace could heal her, but not fast enough if the vamps all drank from her.
Dodging fangs wasn’t her only obstacle. Now she had to spin away from switchblades and a length of chain.
“Oh, yeah. Warm that blood up,” one vampire said, swinging the chain at her legs like a bullwhip. “Drainin’ you gonna be worth it.”
Mariel ducked a blade thrust at her head, but the chain wielder caught her ankle midkick. He yanked, and she almost lost her footing. She tugged the chain and spun away from another knife before it could sink into her side.
“Making new friends?” came a familiar deep voice.
Everything stopped. The chain around her ankle pulled tight, but the vampires had followed her gaze to the new visitor.
Kas leaned against a light pole, his massive body casting a giant-sized shadow against the hard-packed dirt. He wore a fringed brown suede jacket, bell-bottom jeans that hugged his thick thighs, and cowboy boots. In his hands were two very big black guns.
“Private party, dickhead,” Loudmouth said.
“Since I know what you had in mind for the lady…” The Nephilim tilted his head and then tsked. His glowing eyes narrowed at the bloodsucker. “I’ll stick around.”
Mariel chuckled under her breath.
“You okay?” Kas asked, his eyes showing genuine concern.
“Absolutely.” She squinted at his weapons. “Overkill, perhaps?”
Kas frowned then switched to a lopsided grin, turning the guns in front of him. “How many you want?”
“What the fuck, man,” Loudmouth said. His vampire gang shifted around him.
Mariel offered the Nephilim a genuine smile. “You are thoughtful. Even split?”
The guns disappeared into shoulder holsters.
The vampires finally clued in. The new combatant wasn’t going to blow their brains out.
Then Kas moved.
A jolt of excitement hit, and she plowed her boot into the chain wielder’s jaw. The crack ricocheted off the empty buildings, but she couldn’t take time to enjoy it. A second vampire lunged at her, but she deftly turned, spinning out of his way, then kicked him to the ground. Mariel jumped on the prone body and drew a facon across the vampire’s shoulders. He reached behind his neck, and she stuck the long, sharp blade deep into his heart.
Grunts and the kiss of steel hitting steel made her swing around. As she tugged her blade out of the dead vamp, she tracked the graceful moves of the half-angel assassin.
He was truly dangerous beauty.
The air whipped through his hair, fanning tendrils across his shoulders and back. The three remaining bloodsuckers converged in what appeared like a Hail Mary effort to topple their target.
Kas didn’t look like anyone’s target. The man was a pure professional.
He buried his fist into a face. He plowed his elbow into a gut. He stomped one vamp into the dust.
Mariel rose and openly appreciated his technique. His attention landed on her a split second, then he sent Loudmouth flying like a wingless bat. The bloodsucker thunked into the ground near her boots. Resilient, he wobbled to his feet, circled until he regained his sense of direction, and then growled at her.
Time to stop playing around. Facons clenched in each hand, she crisscrossed Loudmouth’s chest several times, then she backed away until she sensed a looming presence behind her. She took a last step back, not to rest against Kas, but rather to enjoy his closeness.
Together they watched black blood pour out of the stunned vampire’s eviscerated torso.
…
The gang leader’s knees hit the ground, followed by the rest of his lifeless body. Served him right. Coming upon the scene of Mariel’s fight had sparked the need to protect her, but now that threat was over.
He was another.
Kas wiped his knuckles on his dark jeans and stepped away from Mariel. Without warning, he sent his Grace into her mind.
She gasped, and he felt her power flare. He’d expected the fight would distract her, but her weird static wall sprang up, and his power fizzled to nothing. He pushed again, added more power, and received the same result.
Shit. The first stirring of the Act of Contrition made the hairs on his arms rise.
“Stop.”
He heard the cold edge in her tone, but he didn’t have time to think. The Act bled into his veins, swirled into his gut, and rode up his throat in a feral snarl. Kas groaned and doubled over, clutching his abdomen as if he could squeeze the pain away. Perspiration slicked his skin. He ground his jaw. His muscles seized.
One moment, his veins had carried boiling blood. Now, the worst of the torment dulled, and the erratic beat of his heart recovered a steady rhythm. He gulped down the night air and then stared at the delicate hand resting on his arm. She couldn’t have…
“What’d you do?”
Mariel’s eyes shone with her angelic power and her concern. “Is it over?”
The calmly spoken question left him gaping and six shades of guilty. She had the power to stop the Act of Contrition?
No way.
Then he remembered Cain. His brother had practiced using his mind control to lessen the damaging effects of the curse on the team, but this was different. Kas had felt the Act flicker out.
“Tell me what you did. Please.”
“I disrupted the effects.”
“Disrupted. You’re modest.”
Her mouth twitched and the corners of her eyes crinkled. “I saw no reason to allow your pain to continue, though you persisted in snooping where you are not yet invited.”
Kas desperately wanted to know more, but her alert expression warned him not to push.
She brushed dirt and dead grass from her clothing. “Your pain was caused by the binding, was it not?”
He shrugged and let that one drift. Yet another fact she knew about him, and he didn’t know jack squat about her. A wingless angel with the power to disrupt other angelic talents. In the right hands, she’d be an irreplaceable asset. In the hands of the enemy…
No, he’d leave that alone, too.
“Why’d you help me?”
She stared into his eyes, searching, then shrugged and slowly rotated her left shoulder. “The Renegades are not a kind organization. Your weakness is a danger you should not lightly dismiss—if you choose to join them.”
Blood rushed up his neck and settled in his face. She saw him as weak? Anger bloomed in his chest. “I was taken to Heaven at eight years old. There, the Directorate decided to make me an assassin. Can you imagine my training?” He stalked closer until he loomed over her. “When I was not with Tanis, the other angels beat me, crushed my ribs under their boots, punched me until my jaw broke, held my head under water, and burned my flesh with flaming swords.”
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