I may not have done this before, but I have the Internet.
His hips moved in rhythm with my hand. His eyes closed and his breath quickened.
There’s power in controlling someone else’s pleasure, drinking in their surrender, being the only thing that existed in their world, even if it was just for a moment.
A familiar noise interrupted the moment. Why was the Tardis here? It took me a couple of seconds to realize I wasn’t getting an unexpected visit from the Doctor, but rather my phone was ringing.
“Maybe you should answer that,” Lucas said out of breath. “It’s the third time they’ve called.”
Reaching into my pocket, I glanced down at the caller ID. Wes the cock block.
“Hello?” I didn’t hide the frustration in my voice. Someone better be dead or something.
“You need to get your ass to the morgue right now. Damian’s hurt.”
He hung up before I could ask any questions.
Chapter 22
I almost rushed out of the bedroom topless. Lucas grabbed my arm, preventing me from flashing his dad.
“Hold on. What’s wrong?”
Nothing coherent came out of my mouth, but my panic was enough for him to stop asking questions and toss me my shirt. Clothed, I ran out of the room and down the hall toward the front door. I didn’t pause to grab my jacket, just charged through the door and raced to Lucas’ car.
Wes had said hurt, not dead. Which meant the worst hadn’t happened. At least not yet. Damn him and his inability to explain things on the phone.
I skidded to a stop a few feet from the car.
Leaning against the driver’s side door was a man in blue jeans and a plaid shirt, cigarette dangling from his unnaturally red lips. His aura hit me like a croquet mallet. Not man. Angel-blooded.
“Those things will kill ya,” I said.
He took a drag before taking it out of his mouth, then blew out a circle of smoke. Puff the Magic Dragon here.
He grinned at me. “At least something will.”
Before I could tell him to move his ass, we had an emergency here, Lucas skidded to a stop beside me.
“What interesting friends you’ve made, Lucas,” the angel said, a slight southern drawl. I didn’t know Empyrean even had a south.
“You know this guy?” I asked, turning toward Lucas.
Lucas didn’t speak. He trembled, his face pale and his eyes wider than the Gulf of Mexico.
Stupid me. Always a second too late with my realizations.
An angel was about ten times out of my weight class. I reached to grab Lucas’ hand so we could get the hell out of there.
My hand froze in mid-air. My eyes, the only thing I could still move, drifted back to the angel. His hand pulsed with white light, an activated rune.
I was getting really tired of all this magic.
The angel glided over to me. He traced his fingers across my cheek reminding me of a sexual predator. There was hunger in his eyes like he wanted to devour me and then pick out the bits between his teeth with my bones.
“Demon spawn.” His hot breath blasted my face, smelling like rotten fruit. Dude needed a breath mint.
Unfortunately, my body wasn’t the only thing frozen so I couldn’t tell him that.
A sword I hadn’t noticed before appeared in his hand. The blade slid through my belly with zero resistance. He twisted his wrist adding insult to injury before pulling out. Rivulets of blood dripped down his blade. My rivulets.
I felt numb, the magic paralyzing me also blocking the pain. Maybe I should have said thank you for the painkiller. It was more effective than morphine.
There was nothing I could do but stay rooted in place as I died.
The angel turned his back to me, satisfied I was taken care of. Crimson wings shot out of his back, almost hitting me in the face. I could do nothing as he wrapped his arms around Lucas’ still form. My eyes met Lucas’. The pain in his broke my heart.
Within the space of a breath, the angel catapulted himself into the air. Wind buffeted my checks, bringing tears to my eyes.
One moment nothing, the next pain blossomed in my gut, stretching its greedy fingers up and down my body.
I collapsed, holding my stomach, trying to staunch the bleeding long enough to make it to the front door. I used one arm and both legs to inch forward, too weak to stand.
I crawled not for myself. I was pretty sure I was a goner. But someone needed to tell Robert about Lucas. There was still a chance for him.
My numb fingers dug into the snow as I pulled myself forward. One inch, two inches, three.
“Help,” I tried to shout, my voice a ragged whisper swallowed by the wind.
I stopped. I couldn’t do it. Oblivion tugged on my consciousness, promising me an end to pain, an end to worry. Surrender and the sweet embrace of nothingness will be your reward.
I leaked out, rivers of my life spreading like spider webs through the untouched snow. It was pretty in a macabre way. At least I’d be part of something beautiful when I died.
Someone lifted me up. Strong arms cradled me. Damian. My brother was okay. He would stay with me until the very end.
I stared up at the face of my comforter, my brain not registering who this stranger was or the words coming out of his frantic mouth.
Not Damian.
The pain grew worse. The stranger shook me, spittle spraying my face as he looked more and more desperate. I wanted to yell for him to leave me the fuck alone but the movement ignited further pain.
I closed my eyes and surrendered to the darkness. My last thoughts were of Lucas and how I’d failed him.
Chapter 23
I woke up to the smell of antiseptic and blood. Apparently, the afterlife smelled a lot like sterilized death.
The agonizing torment had dulled to an annoying ache, the promise of the end of my hurt another lie. I glanced around the room, greeted with familiar faces, none of which had noticed me yet. I’m pretty sure this was hell. Heaven would have barred Wes from entry just on principle.
Damian stood in the corner listening to Lucas’ dad, Robert, rant, his arms flying in all directions as Damian looked like he was struggling not to fall. Peter watched from the sidelines, arms crossed, looking about ready to step in. Wes sat on another gurney, face pale, shoulders shaking like someone had sucked the last drop of his soul.
”What the hell happened?” I asked, but it may have come out like a mumble.
”I’d like to know the same thing,” Peter answered, turning my way.
I didn’t fight the fatherly hands that pressed against my forehead or gently examined my stomach.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
Everyone’s attention was on me. I felt like a kid during the school talent show who’d just forgotten her lines.
“Still breathing,” I muttered. “Though I’m not sure how.”
“You can thank everyone in this room,” Damian said. “Starting with Robert. He got you here before it was too late.”
“How?”
Wes chimed in. “You’re lucky you’re not more popular. He only had three phone numbers to choose from. Damian was able to heal you.”
“Why do you look like you’d been run over recently?”
“Well you both decided that today was a good day to die,” Peter said. “Damian had already used up his rune to get here before he bled out. Wes volunteered as recharge.”
“I think you took too much,” I said to my brother.
Damian scowled. “I took what I needed to keep you alive.”
“What happened to you, anyway?” I asked. “Who did you piss off?”
“Who did you?”
Looked like we weren’t going to be sharing anymore.
“Can we get back to what’s important? My boy is still missing.” Robert wrung his hands. He reminded me of a fretting hen.
“It was an angel. The way Lucas looked at him. I’ve never seen fear like that. I think it was the same one who killed h
is parents.”
Robert stopped his pacing and looked like he’d ceased breathing as well. “This is all my fault.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Robert didn’t answer, just kept pacing and mumbling to himself. Something about making a mistake that will cost him everything. I stopped eavesdropping on his private vocal thoughts. It was rude.
“We need to find him, Damian. It’s all connected. Terrance, the others, and now Lucas.”
I stood on wobbly legs. Peter caught me before I fell.
“The three of you need rest,” Peter said in his doctor voice. “If you try and find the boy now, you’re going to get yourselves killed.”
“There isn’t time. We have to find him before—”
“There is no we, niblet. You’re staying at home if I have to chain you up in the damn basement to keep you out of the way.”
“I’m not asking to go toe-to-toe with an angel. But if you expect me to sit at home and do nothing while he does gods knows what to Lucas, well, you better use some fucking heavy duty chains.”
“How am I going to be able to focus on saving your boyfriend if I’m worried about you getting stabbed again?”
“Could you just stay at home while someone you cared about was the new pet to some demented angel?”
He ran his fingers through his hair, contemplating how best to stop me from getting killed. “Go through all of the sentinel’s notes again. Try to find what I missed. As long as you promise not to go after the angel by yourself, I’ll keep you informed.”
I nodded, trying not to seem too eager. It was more than I expected and close to what I’d been aiming for all along. To be part of the team. I just wished my first official case wasn’t finding the boy who’d stolen my heart before someone ripped out his.
Damian sighed. “Tell me everything you remember.”
Chapter 24
I flipped through the pages of notes for the hundredth time. They made no more sense than the ninety-ninth time had. My head pounded. I got up to down a few more Tylenol. With how much I’d been taking lately, I was a bit worried about an overdose.
It had been two days, thirteen hours, and, looking at the time on the microwave, forty-two minutes since Lucas had been taken. Damian had stopped home only twice to pretty much tell me he was no closer to finding Lucas.
I don’t think he’d slept any more than I had.
The front door opened then slammed shut. Dread pooled in my gut, sure that Damian was home to gently tell me they’d found him but it’d been too late.
I held my breath, clinging for a few moments to the hope that it was good news instead. Or no news. I could handle no news.
Wes strolled around the corner, whistling. Fucking whistling like he had just come home from working on the railroad.
“News?” I asked before he could get a word out.
He shrugged. “Haven’t heard anything new.”
I glared. “Then why do you look so damn happy?”
“Maybe I’m just glad to see you.”
His playfulness in the midst of my anxiety galled. I didn’t know if he thought pretending to be cheerful would help me or if he just was an insensitive ass.
“Happy to see me? Do I look the least bit happy? Lucas is still missing. I won’t be happy until he’s home.”
He laughed. “Calm down, sunshine. At least you still have me.”
I’d never felt the urge to maim someone as much as I did at that moment.
“Go away, Wes. You might not give a shit about Lucas, but if you care about me, you’d be helping find him.”
He frowned, putting his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m doing everything I can. I’m just trying to cheer you up.”
“You suck at it.”
“So I’m gathering. Don’t worry. Damian is doing everything he can to find your boyfriend.”
He said the word boyfriend the way one would say rapist.
“What is your deal, Wes?”
“You already know.”
“What? Because he’s a nephilim? Get over it.”
He sighed. “It’s not just that. I don’t want to think about you all grown up.”
“I was fifteen when we met. I haven’t grown much since.”
“Maybe I am jealous.”
“Well buck up, buttercup. We need your help to find him before—” I felt sick.
I stood, pushing past him. “I need some air.”
He didn’t follow as I slipped my jacket on and went outside. I headed to the shed in the back that Damian kept locked up.
I looked over my shoulder. Wes was still inside and wouldn’t be able to see me through any of the windows. I took out my lock pick and got to work.
If Damian hadn’t wanted me to get into his secret stash, he shouldn’t have taught me how to bypass locks.
With a click, I gained entry into a wonderland of weapons. Damian always said magic was the last resort, only used in desperation. He would have found Lucas’ fireball of doom irresponsible.
He kept a stockpile of various weapons, everything from handguns and rifles to katanas and daggers. Something for every appetite.
I might be having the stupidest idea ever, but I’m not suicidal.
I searched the shelves, looking for something akin to a Swiss army knife of death. I didn’t know what I’d end up face to face with. Different things required different tactics. Sometimes sharp things worked, sometimes you needed a little gunpowder.
I avoided the guns, though. Didn’t need to blow off my foot accidently.
My eyes caught a faint bluish glow coming from behind what I think was a bazooka. I reached behind blindly and flinched as the blade sliced my finger. The light intensified, satisfied with the taste of blood.
Creepy.
Exactly what I needed.
More careful this time, I reached to grab the hilt and brought it into view.
The double-edged sword was about twenty-eight inches of destructive glory. Runes were etched in ivory into the wooden hilt. The blade itself glowed blue, but I couldn’t tell what rune had been activated to give it the awesome effect.
It called to my soul as if she had been made especially for me. This was my other half. Only together were we whole.
Not exactly a voice, more like the knowledge was just there, hidden deep and only now brought to the surface.
She, because this was way more than some inanimate killing device, pulsed twice and then dimmed until the glow was gone. Looking at her now, she seemed ordinary, below notice.
Looks are deceiving.
I grabbed a leather scabbard and baldric from another shelf. It took a few minutes to figure out how to wear it correctly. I felt like a Roman general from two millennia ago.
It was awkward at first but felt right at the same time.
Next time I’d invest in a belt to keep Gladys at my side. Because yes, her name was Gladys. What else would you call a Roman gladius sword?
Chapter 25
Not having a car sucked. I couldn’t call up Elena and ask for a ride. Even if she didn’t ask questions, which of course she would, I didn’t want to drag her into this and get someone else I cared about hurt.
Wes would have literally locked me in the basement if he knew what I had planned.
The bus was crowded, no surprise considering it was eight am on a Tuesday. I kept my jacket held tightly against me, concealing the weapon that would have gotten me kicked off. No one paid attention to me. Too busy being absorbed in their devices or books.
Wish I had a book. Something to distract me from the seconds that ticked by as the bus stopped for the umpteenth time. Why would anyone choose public transportation unless there was no other choice?
I got off two stops earlier than I planned figuring running the rest of the way would be faster. By the time I reached the sentinel Dougie’s apartment, I was out of breath. Told you I hated sprints.
I climbed the stairs two at a time and reached Dougie’s door. I didn’t b
other to look if anyone was around, just knelt down and got to work.
I shouldn’t have bothered. It wasn’t locked.
I slipped inside, shutting the door behind me. The place had been ransacked. Furniture tipped over, papers everywhere, broken plate pieces littering the carpet. Even the poor plant had been tipped on its side, dried dirt spread around.
I was going to have a hard time finding anything in this mess.
Didn’t stop me from trying. I sifted through the leftovers, becoming more discouraged by the second. Anything important would already be gone. Still, I lingered, avoiding going into the bedroom in case the body was still there.
I sniffed the air. I could still smell remnants of blood but no decay. Would he have begun to decompose in two days?
There was nowhere else to search, and I still had nothing. Determined to leave no stone unturned and knowing that I had no other leads, I ventured down the hall. The door was closed, and I couldn’t for the life of me remember if we’d closed it.
Obviously, someone else had been here considering the state of the place. But I doubted the person had been friendly. If the right people had discovered Dougie's body, the place would have been taped off or under surveillance.
I hesitated with my hand on the knob, an itch developing on the back of my neck. Before I could turn and investigate, someone clamped a gloved hand over my mouth.
“Returning to the scene of the crime?”
I tried to speak, but his hand muffled my words. He moved his hand from my mouth to my throat. I preferred it the other way. He left my hands free to do whatever they wished.
I had two options at the moment. Stab him with the pointy end or try and reason with him. Since at the moment he was my best shot at getting information, I resisted the urge to stab him in the groin, even as his hand tightened around my neck.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” I choked out.
His grip loosened but he didn’t let go. “Talk, girl.”
Nephilim Falling (Trenton Investigations) Page 13