Call of the Siren (Demons of the Infernum) (Entangled Edge)
Page 3
“How’s the side?” he asked once he’d come to a stop beside her.
“Fine.” She took another guzzle of her beer. “You get things squared away with the owner?”
“He’s good.” Dagan placed his hand beneath her chin and turned her face toward his so he could examine the bruise on her left cheek.
The dangerous glint in her eyes told him she didn’t appreciate his man-handling, but when she spoke all she said was, “I’ve already healed it. The bruise should fade in a couple of hours.”
He fought back a wince. For the bruise to be so visible even after she’d healed herself, her cheekbone must have been shattered. He knew firsthand how painful that was. But if Lina had proved anything in the time he’d known her, it was that she was one tough woman.
“You did good back there,” he murmured.
One corner of her mouth ticked up. “Nothing I haven’t faced before.”
Considering she worked as a mercenary, that was no doubt true, and the knowledge of that hit him like a kick to the groin. She willingly placed her life in danger every day. Even though he had no claim to her whatsoever, the thought of that drove him crazy.
“Why do you work as a mercenary?” he found himself asking.
Her grin died. “Why do you work as a bounty hunter?”
Touché. He couldn’t exactly condone her choice of career when he put himself in just as much danger as she did on a daily basis.
“Ronin worries about you,” he found himself saying.
I worry about you.
She swiveled on her stool so she fully faced him, barely missing his groin with her knee. He fought the impulse to back away from the danger it posed. She would see that as a weakness.
Her leg stayed there, inches from his body. Torturing him with its proximity.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” she said, her voice low. Almost teasing. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
A world of hidden meaning rested behind those words.
“Indeed,” he murmured, his heart speeding up at the innuendo. To the untrained, she might be flirting. But he knew better. She was simply being truthful.
As if she sensed the excitement growing within him, she shifted slightly, her knee grazing his thigh. The weight of the air changed around them, growing thicker and more intense. It made him all too aware of the heat pulsing off her body. Made him lose all focus.
Obeying some base instinct, he moved in closer.
“Dagan.” Her voice held a note of warning.
“What?” he whispered.
Something crossed her expression, something almost like…regret?
“We should go tell Ronin what happened.”
Her mention of his brother’s name broke him out of his trance. Shaking his head, he pulled back. “You’re right.”
What had just gone down was big. They needed to tell his brothers right away.
…
Dagan sighed and leaned his forehead against one of the floor-to-ceiling windows lining his oldest brother Keegan’s expansive living room. Keegan lived in the penthouse of the Upper East Side building where Dagan also resided. Four floors down, his and Ronin’s apartment was less than half the size of this one, the view not nearly as grand. Usually he took the time to admire the stunning sight of New York City through these windows, but tonight they provided nothing more than a momentary distraction.
He turned to face Keegan, Ronin, and Lina. Taeg and his fiancé Maya would be here too if they weren’t out of the country, tracking the demons who had murdered her family years before. They’d gotten a solid lead that the two maliki demons were in Europe, and they were currently hot on their trail.
“You’re sure Sam is working for the dark fae?” Keegan asked from the bar in one corner of the room, where he’d gone to pour himself a generous drink after hearing that Dagan and Lina had been attacked.
“Yes,” Lina responded. She paced back and forth in the living room, absently twirling the stiletto knife in her hand. Her long, blond hair flowed behind her as if carried on a silent breeze, and the curves of her firm ass flexed with her movement. He shouldn’t be noticing that right now, but not noticing Lina was impossible. Whenever she entered a room, all the air sucked right out of it. The woman was stunning.
She’d also suffered a harsh blow tonight. Dried blood stained her pink top underneath her leather jacket. While the wound wouldn’t have been serious enough to kill her, she would still be in pain if not for her angelic ability to heal.
The thought of that wrenched Dagan’s stomach. The last thing he wanted to see was Lina in any kind of pain.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Ronin frowning at him, and turned his gaze back to Keegan. When Dagan had first met Lina, he’d been unable to hide his interest, but Ronin had told him in no uncertain terms that he didn’t want him anywhere near his adopted sister. Ronin wasn’t too keen on her being defiled by his man-whore of a little brother, and who could blame him? A woman like Lina was meant to be treasured and adored, not used and cast off.
And what else am I good for, if not for that?
“I mean, Sam didn’t flat-out admit he was working for the fae,” Lina continued, “but it seemed pretty clear.”
“Yeah, the bastard disappeared right out from under me.” His jaw tight, Dagan crossed over to the bar and poured a drink for himself.
“Must have been a spell.” Ronin leaned forward on the leather sectional, resting his elbows on his thighs and clasping his hands together. “Sam probably activated it when he crushed that ball in his hand.”
Keegan took a swig of his drink. “Supports our theory that Sam is working for the fae.”
“Yup,” Dagan said. “A teleportation spell of that magnitude requires some serious power.”
Keegan nodded. “Exactly. It’s not like they sell those on the black market.”
Dagan swallowed hard, his thoughts turning to another man. Another possibility. “You don’t think it could’ve been Mammon, do you?”
Silence blanketed the room at his mention of that name. Mammon was a demon who had tried to take over the world…and he also happened to be their father. He was evil and abusive, and they’d taken great delight in escaping him. After he turned against the Council, the four of them had gladly tracked him down. Rotting in an interdimensional prison had been the very least he deserved. But he’d been broken out several months ago, and they hadn’t heard of him since.
“Only someone with great power could have broken him out of prison,” Keegan finally said. “Whether it was the dark fae or not is anyone’s guess. But if it was him…why? What’s the connection between the two?”
“At this point we don’t know what to expect from Mammon,” Ronin said grimly. “I’m half surprised he hasn’t reared his head by now.”
True. Their father had an awful habit of trying to kill them.
“I can’t believe Sam turned on me.” Lina frowned and rubbed at her side. She almost looked like she was in pain, and that set Dagan’s internal radar off. Given her angelic healing ability, she should be fully healed by now.
Without thinking about it, Dagan set his drink down and crossed over to her. “You okay?” He didn’t wait for a response before peeling back her leather jacket and lifting her lace top just enough that he could examine the spot where she’d been stabbed. Her flesh was unmarred, but it was damn hard to ignore how soft and smooth it was, or the fact that her top seemed more appropriate for the bedroom than for public view. If that wasn’t a recipe for a hard-on, he didn’t know what was.
Lina stiffened beneath his gaze, her fingers tightening on her knife. “I’m fine. Aches a little, is all. I’m sure it’ll go away soon enough.”
“Good.” Before Dagan could say anything more, a wisp of negative energy drifted toward him.
No mistaking where that came from. Ronin.
Ever since Ronin’s first sexual encounter with his now-fiancé Amara, when she had, to her horror, almost killed
him, Ronin’s calming ability had gone wonky. At first it hadn’t worked at all, but once Ronin and Amara had gotten back together it had kicked back in with one notable exception—when he was angry, unease, rather than calm, oozed from his pores.
Damn unnerving.
The Jaws theme played in Dagan’s head as he released Lina’s shirt and backed toward the bar without meeting Ronin’s eyes. He already knew the reproach he’d find in them. Hell, Ronin would no doubt grill him later for turning up at the same place as Lina. The bastard probably suspected he’d done it on purpose.
If only he knew how much Dagan wished Lina hadn’t seen him tonight—at least not in the comprising situation he’d gotten himself into.
Keegan cleared his throat, dispelling the tension that permeated the room. “We need to press forward. If Sam tried to kill you just for asking questions, then clearly we’re on to something.”
“That’s the thing.” Lina flipped her knife in her hand and grasped it by the hilt before sliding it inside her leather jacket. “If Sam had wanted to kill me, he would’ve succeeded.”
Ronin’s body went taut. “What do you mean?”
“He had his chance, but he didn’t want to kill me. He told me so.”
Dagan exchanged a wary glance with Keegan. “Then what did he want?”
“Don’t know.” Lina let the silence settle around them before she lifted her arms overhead and arched her back into a stretch. “Been a long night. Sun will be up soon. I’m gonna head home.”
Without thought, Dagan opened his mouth to offer her a ride. Made sense since she lived all the way down in the West Village and he was the only one of them who had a car, but yeah…he hadn’t thought that one through.
Before he could make the mistake of speaking, Ronin rose from the couch. “I’ll walk with you.”
Lina faced him with an annoyed laugh. “I’m not a child.”
“I know.” But Ronin made no move to back down.
Lina’s eyes narrowed on Ronin, and for one second Dagan feared she was going to reject his offer. In the end, she merely shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Ronin moved to follow Lina to the door, but at the last second, he pierced Dagan with his gaze, ripe with menace and warning.
Point taken, Dagan silently noted. He’d do best to forget all about Lina, with her tight little curves and her smart-ass temper. Even if everything in his nature rebelled against it.
“We should all get some rest,” Keegan said once Ronin and Lina had gone.
Dagan took the hint. He finished off his whiskey and nodded at his eldest brother. “See ya tomorrow.”
As he took the elevator down to the apartment he shared with Ronin, he couldn’t help but think about Lina. They’d learned so little about her in the few short months she’d been back in Ronin’s life. All they really knew was that she was a walking conundrum—a full-blooded angel who worked as a mercenary. Since angels were peaceful by nature, the fact that she made her living kicking ass said a lot. She’d suffered some major trauma in her life.
Just like me.
Lina was like a luscious puzzle that needed to be solved.
Too bad she was the one person who was completely off-limits.
…
A car horn honked outside Lina’s bedroom window, waking Lina from her crazed, disturbing dreams. She groaned and drew her arm over her eyes to block the sunlight.
Desire was a bitch. It snuck up behind you and knocked you on your ass, and just when you were thinking of getting back up again, it crippled you with recurring images of the object of your forbidden lust getting a hand job from another woman.
“Damn it.”
Get over it, girl. Dagan is nothing to you, other than Ronin’s brother.
Yet much as she’d tried to convince herself of that, much as she’d done all she could to stay away from him these past few months, at times she found she couldn’t get the gorgeous demon out of her mind. Especially when she dreamt.
It was all his fault, of course. He was too damn funny. Too sexy. Too Dagan.
And because of that fact alone, not to mention the whole overprotective-Ronin-thing, he was unequivocally off-limits.
Lina abandoned her attempt at trying to remain asleep and rolled over to peek at the alarm clock. A quarter after two in the afternoon. She’d gotten over seven hours sleep, but it sure as hell didn’t feel like it. She threw her pillow across her room with a low growl then dragged her ass out of bed and into the shower. Today’s gig consisted of shaking down a local bar owner for his unpaid cut to the demon boss who controlled this part of town. Might as well get it over with.
After hopping out of the shower, Lina headed to her tiny closet, which in fact wasn’t so small, considering the rest of her cramped West Village apartment. She pulled out a pair of worn, ripped jeans and a black tank top with crisscrossing straps that would accommodate the growth of her wings. The spot where they grew out of her back felt itchy and tight, which meant she would need to fit in a flight tonight. The biggest negative about living in a big city like this was that the sheer number of people made it more difficult to let her wings out as often as she needed to. Thank goodness for her apartment on the top floor of her four-story building. The attached roof deck not only provided a nice view of the neighborhood, but also made the small space bearable.
Lina threw on her clothes and topped them with her leather jacket. Overkill considering it was June, but there was no better way to hide her collection of knives. Just then her cell phone rang.
She read Ronin’s name on the screen and, muttering a curse, hit the ignore button. Their relationship was complicated, to say the least. Ever since they’d found each other again, he kept pressing to renew their former brother-sisterly bond, especially after his father Mammon had broken out of prison and disappeared from the Council’s radar. He acted as if Mammon would go after her, just to spite him.
While Lina couldn’t deny that some part of her was secretly happy Ronin was so eager to reconnect with her, as the saying went: once burned, twice shy. It had killed her when he’d disappeared from her life at the age of five.
Just one more person on the long list of loved ones who’d abandoned her, in one way or another.
Lina headed for her door and threw it open…right as a man on the other side raised his hand to knock. He drew back, startled, and they blinked at each other.
She examined the stranger’s face. There was something familiar about it, about his eyes and the stark lines and angles of his lower face. But no, she couldn’t quite place it.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
His piercing gaze searched her face before he gave her a slow smile. “What’s the matter, Lina? Don’t remember me?”
Her throat closed at the sound of his familiar, scratchy voice. There was no mistaking that.
Suddenly weak and unsteady, she braced her quivering hand on the doorframe and examined him more thoroughly.
Gods, how could she have missed it? True, he looked far different from the last time she’d seen him. He’d cut the dirty blond hair that had once fallen to his mid-back. It now hung in long strands around his face. His yellow eyes—typical of a hubrin demon—had been glamoured brown and now possessed a clarity she had never before seen. His beard was gone. He’d also filled out quite a bit over the past years. Whereas his six-and-a-half foot frame had once been wiry, now his brown leather jacket, ratty jeans, and plain white T-shirt covered layers of muscle. On top of that, his multicolored, moth-like wings were hidden.
But still, how could she not immediately recognize him?
“Thorne.”
His smile widened. “That’s right, baby. I knew you would never forget me.”
How could she? The man had ruined her life.
She forced herself to stand tall, when all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and weep at the agonizing memories the sight of him elicited. “You look better. Does that mean you’re off the drugs?”
Thorne looked her up a
nd down. “I could ask you the same thing.”
Bastard. He would throw that back in her face.
“Two years now. No thanks to you.”
He made a tsk-ing sound. “Still blaming me for your troubles?”
“You are to blame.”
When he only smirked at her, Lina took a deep breath. Thorne had always known how to get under her skin, in one way or another. She wouldn’t let him rile her. But she would figure out what the hell he wanted, and then send him on his way.
“How’d you get into the building?” She didn’t live in a place highbrow enough to have a doorman, but there was a lock on the main door, and guests were supposed to be buzzed in.
Thorne had the nerve to look amused. “The lock on the front door is busted.”
Yeah, and why did she get the feeling that he’d been the one to do the busting?
Her fingers tightened on the doorframe, and she infused a layer of steel into her voice. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
He ignored her questions, instead pushing past her into the apartment. His presumptiveness ignited a bitter burst of fury inside her chest. How dare he assume he was welcome here? Thorne no longer knew anything about her. She wasn’t even the same woman she’d been two years ago.
Forcing back the desire to smash him into the ground, Lina closed the door. “I said, how did you find me?”
Thorne paused in his perusal of her living space and turned to face her. “Been living in this dimension—in the city—for about a year now. I heard some rumors of a hot angel mercenary fitting your description. Couldn’t believe it’d be you. I mean, you, a mercenary? But I asked around anyway, and what a surprise…here you are.”
He’d searched for her? How had he gotten her address? It wasn’t as if she gave that out to any guy on the street. And more importantly, why had he tracked her down? He must know he was the last person she’d ever want to see. The mere sight of him made her stomach clench in agony. Made the memories shoved into the deep, dark recesses of her mind come seeping out in festering streams of anguish.