Eli turned his back on his kind to be with Ryden. Eli could have faced death if the elders didn’t sanction the union. Lucky for the couple, things worked out.
Why would Eli risk it? What happened to turn him? He liked to say he didn’t care, but the truth was he feared whatever infected Eli had worked its way into his bloodstream. He needed answers to stop it. Unfortunately, he couldn’t very well march up to the front door and ring the doorbell. Eli would drive a sword through his heart before he stepped foot on his porch.
He’d have to shadow Eli and see what he could decipher from afar, figure out what attracted Eli to Ryden and find out what hold the female had over him. “Soul mates,” he murmured under his breath like a curse.
He leaned against the tree trunk to only to regret it. His back rebelled with another long roll of burn. His wings fluttered like a beating moth trapped in a window, begging to be released. He’d glanced at his back in the mirror this morning. The flesh didn’t look so raw. His wings looking more like a burnished tattoo, the pattern etched into his skin from his shoulder blades to the small of his back, but the pain still lingered.
He searched his pockets for his cigarettes and came up empty. Wasn’t it his sordid luck? He left the pack in his other coat pocket.
The large bay window in front of the house revealed Eli and Ryden’s living room decorated with a sofa, loveseat, and pictures framing the walls. The happy couple came into view, their expression of twin smiles, laughing about something that was said. Eli’s hand snaked out, grabbing Ryden’s arm bringing her against his chest in an amorous embrace. She wanted him too. The evidence betrayed in her actions. The way she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, drawing him closer. He wondered if Eli used his glamour, but the sod looked just as enamored as she did. Then they moved toward the back rooms, probably the bedroom. “Thank God.” With the way they were hanging on each other, there was no doubt sex was on their mind and he had no wish to witness the sordid deed.
So many questions rattled through his mind. How did Eli keep his strength intact and not kill Ryden in a fit of passion? How did Eli reach satisfaction without letting loose his energy or did he hold back? Really, if he could not be himself, why would he want to commit to a human?
He shook his head. When the urge presented itself, it was far better to couple with a preternatural being than to take a human who was as fragile as a porcelain doll.
The fluttering of wings overhead startled him. He whirled around, his dagger sliding down his shirtsleeve to be gripped in the palm of his hand. His eyes widened in surprise and a curse flew from his lips over his stupidity. Eli slammed into him, knocking him off his feet and onto his back. The impact took his breath away, pain choking the outcry as his back hit the cement. He rolled away, coming to his feet before Eli could dive at him again. He waved the dagger at Eli. “If you’re going to fight me,” he spat, “meet me on equal terms.”
“Why are you here?” Eli landed in front of him, snapping his dove colored wings against his back with irritation, his eyes glowing with an unearthly tinge of amber.
Good questions, but he didn’t really have a snappy come back he wanted to share with Eli. “It’s a public street. I was taking a walk.”
Eli nodded toward his hand. “Were you expecting a fight on your walk?”
“Never know when an enemy might appear. I need to be prepared. My glamour’s limited, you know.”
Eli eyed him closely, probably wishing at this moment he killed him when the Elder Chaz gave him the choice. He opened his mouth to say something but the air clogged with supernatural energy. The streetlights blinked then popped before going out completely. Four Hashasheen demons shimmered into view, dressed in their garb of black leather, their eyes red pinpricks in the night, glowing with intent.
Eli joined Lucca. For the moment, they were comrades. If they survived, they could always resume their personal conflict later.
The demons withdrew their swords advancing on them. Lucca glanced at his dagger and wished he had his broadsword. He lifted his shoulder in a shrug. He’d worked with less before.
“There’s only two each. I believe we can take them,” Lucca said, turning to meet Eli’s gaze. His lips spread into a grin and Eli nodded. He glamoured a sword into his hand and went for the first of the two.
Lucca waved a hand to the remaining demons with a come hither invitation, pissing off the spike-haired demons into charging him. His mistake. Lucca took one step, his arm swinging in an upward thrust, hitting his mark before the demon could finish his downward swing. His hand gripped the demon’s shoulder as he yanked his weapon back. He shoved the demon aside and faced the next opponent, shaking his long hair back from his face. Before he could take this one on, something whizzed by his ear and slammed into the demon’s chest. The demon grunted and looked down at the spike protruding from his chest. Black tarlike goo pooled over his hand as he tried to dislodge the weapon. Lucca didn’t chance a look at who helped him out. He moved forward and finished the job. Two of them down, he whirled around to see how Eli faired. There was only one demon left. The clanging of metal against metal filled the night air as Eli and the demon danced the dangerous two-step of lunges and parries. His gaze landed to the right of Eli where Ryden stood with her spear gun, ready to use it if the chance presented itself. So it had been her who brought down the demon. Admiration for a human was new to him and he didn’t quite know what to do with it. Action was more his style. He went after the demon from the other side.
The demon saw him coming and pivoted to deflect the blow. Eli took the advantage and thrust his sword into the red-eyed demon’s chest, tearing flesh and making its mark. The strangled cry broke off as his eyes glazed to black.
With the thrill of the fight over, the stillness of the night and the reminder of what took place before the demons interrupted came back to the forefront. Eli stared at him. “Friends of yours?” he swore under his breath.
“I was going to ask you the same question.” Lucca hadn’t recognized these demons. His gaze wavered to where the last one sizzled into a black tar, seeping into the crevices in the cement and back to Hell. Good riddance.
The disturbance in the air put him on guard again. His gaze riveted to where Ryden stood. The demon appeared just to the left of her. He was closer than Eli and lunged forward, taking Ryden down as the demon shot off the spike gun, but he was too late. He’d been too slow.
Eli let out an unearthly cry of vengeance, the sound born from a tortured soul. He went after the demon, bent on taking his head.
Lucca rolled away from Ryden, wondering where his act of chivalry came from? His father beat indifference into him until he erected a wall, blocking out his conscience to where he didn’t care about a human’s impending fate, but the wall was beginning to crumble around him.
In the past, when he’d forgotten his lessons, his father would find a way to make him pay. The last time had resulted in Kit Marlowe’s death. The payment had cost too much. Centuries he stayed away from human contact and didn’t care, but then he’d met Juliet, her intoxicating scent clouded his judgment. Her sweet smile poisoning his resolve to keep his distance, her beautiful green eyes, seeing him as a good man and, dammit all to hell, her opinion mattered to him.
He hadn’t tried to save Ryden for just Eli’s sake. He had done so knowing Juliet would have expected him to try.
His fingers went to work at tearing the sleeve away around the protruding harpoon-like metal embedded in Ryden’s flesh. It could have been her heart, he thought. No, it would have been, if he hadn’t tackled her down when he had. He chanced a look at Ryden, trying to ignore the fight behind him. Her face glistened with sweat, her pain evident in her eyes, but she remained calm. “It has to come out. Now,” he told her.
“No, if it’s embedded—”
His gaze locked onto hers. “This isn’t a human weapon, Ryden.” The longer it stays embedded, the metal will break down sending shards through your blood stream.”
>
She gave him a curt nod. “Do it then.”
“On the count of three.” His hand gripped the hilt of the spear and his other hand her arm. “One.” He yanked.
She let out a cry, more of surprise that he hadn’t waited until three than of pain. He did it on purpose. He didn’t want her to jerk away, making him lose his grip. Surprise worked better. He lifted his jacket and tore the bottom of his shirt. He tied the strip around her arm, keeping the blood flow at a minimum.
“You lied.” Ryden’s breath came out in labored huffs as she tried to keep the pain at bay.
He looked at her, his brow arched.
“You said on the count of three.” Her hand fell over his. “Thank you.”
His gaze latched onto her small hand laying over his. He swallowed hard, trying not to act like a sap over her heartfelt thanks. He rose to his feet, intent on helping Eli, but the Watcher had already relieved the demon of his weapon and was going in for the kill. Eli whipped his broadsword around, slicing through flesh and bones with the precision of a true warrior. The demon’s head rolled to the side in a grisly display of serrated teeth, grinning even in death. The body toppled in slow motion as if it couldn’t believe his head would dare leave its shoulders.
Eli whirled around then, his gaze landing on Ryden who had risen, holding her arm. The blood seeping through the shirt, the crimson a dark reminder how close Eli came to losing her.
Eli closed the steps that separated them. Lucca thought he’d take Ryden into his arms, but the warrior surprised him with a left hook to his jaw. Lucca staggered back before righting himself.
“Eli, what are you doing,” Ryden cried out in disbelief.
Lucca’s finger gingerly touched his jaw, wondering how he managed not to loose a few teeth with that punch.
“The Hashasheen demons tracked you here,” Eli accused.
Lucca had thought perhaps they did, but the Hashasheen demons didn’t go after him. He shook his head. “No, they wanted Ryden.” His gaze landed on her and for a moment, Eli remained silent as the words sunk in, knowing them to be true even though he wanted to deny it.
Lucca went over the events. The demons fought them, but each time, they made an attempt to go after Ryden. They just forced them back away from her.
Ryden looked at both of them and gave a nervous chuckle. “Why on earth would the demons want to come after me?”
Eli looked at Ryden, confusion flitting across his brow as he realized it was true. The demons had wanted her and it looked like it didn’t matter if they took her alive. Hashasheens liked to experiment on species, wanting to know what made them tick. Ryden would make for an interesting subject, dead or alive.
“She’s the only living human mated to one of the Fallen,” Lucca stated.
Eli was at her side in a second, inspecting the wound himself. Lucca backed away, thinking it was a good time to leave.
“I’m fine, Eli,” Ryden rested her forehead against his. “Really, it doesn’t even hurt.”
Lucca frowned. Ryden received the wound, yet her words were to reassure her mate that all would be well.
Eli took Ryden into his arms, holding her as if he feared he would only have moments with her. To an immortal, he supposed it could be true. Moments in time. Fallen Angels didn’t live forever, but in human terms it would seem like an eternity. Another reason why taking a human mate seemed pointless.
“Let me see the wound,” Eli demanded. He pulled the makeshift bandage aside.
“I can’t believe it.” Ryden’s proclamation drew Lucca’s attention. Eli and Ryden were staring at her arm. Panic settled in his breastbone like a nagging ache of dread. The Hashasheen had the habit of dipping their weapons in poison. He tried to save Ryden for reasons that still escaped him, but if the spike had been poisoned laced, his attempts to save her were for naught. His brow furrowed as he remembered the poison the Hashasheen used didn’t affect humans. They were immune to it, only causing a slight irritation and nothing more.
Lucca stepped closer, his gaze landing on Ryden’s arm. The wound looked days old with the way the flesh puckered like a red welt. If it hadn’t been for the tear in her sleeve, he would have thought he’d imagined the gash. “How?” He looked at Eli. “You healed her?”
Eli shook his head, his expression flitting from awe, confusion and happiness in a matter of seconds. “I didn’t do this. It’s Ryden. Her body-”
“But that’s impossible,” Lucca said. Wasn’t it? “She’s human.”
“And the bonded mate to one of the Fallen,” Eli stated as if that explained the whole miraculous healing trick.
Ryden touched Eli’s arm, her smile faltering a little. She was scared. Hell, he was a little shook up himself, too. Had Eli changed her in some way? If so, did that mean she’d live longer, too? No one knew what a bonded soul mate entailed. Their father’s took human mates but most died in childbirth, their bodies unable to carry a half angel, half human child to full term and live afterwards. The child drained them, made them too weak, but Eli and he were the Fallens’ children. Human blood flowed through their veins, too. Eli had marked Ryden, a shifter’s bite.
Gideon had told him, he thought the ritual was similar to how shifters mated. We’re shifters. Gideon’s claim had pissed him off, but he knew there’d been some truth to it. They didn’t just conceal their wings with glamour. They shifted from human to angel. “We’re shifters.” He thought he spoke to himself, but Eli heard him.
“So?”
Eli believed they were shifters, too and he was the first of the brethren to take a human mate.
Lucca wanted to ask questions, but Eli only tolerated his presence because he saved Ryden from the Hashasheen demon’s intent. He doubted he would be forth coming with information about finding a soul mate.
Eli wrapped an arm around Ryden. “Let’s go inside. We need to let the elders know of this knew development.”
So it was true, the elders were studying Ryden, trying to find out how Eli had found a soul mate. Correction, his soul mate.
They had only taken a few steps when Ryden pulled out of Eli’s concerned embrace. By heaven, the male acted as if she were going to fall into a million pieces, but he had a hunch Ryden was made of sturdier stuff. She turned to look at Lucca, her lips tipping at the corners. “Thank you, Lucca, for saving my life.”
He stiffened at her words. He saved her life. He hadn’t thought about it. He just reacted. The longer he remained earth bound the more he embraced his human existence. You’re so weak. His father’s words taunted him, but he pushed them to the back of his mind.
“My pleasure.” He bowed, his gaze locking onto Eli’s as he did so.
“We need to sit down and have a chat,” Eli said to him, leaving no room for debate.
“Yeah, well you know where I am.” Without another word, he turned and strode away. He could feel Eli’s heated gaze boring into him. If Ryden hadn’t been injured, their little talk would be now.
As his steps took him farther away, the glamour concealing their night’s happy hour, diminished. Any onlookers who heard the first of the battle would have forgotten it once Eli projected the image of a peaceful night. Human’s minds were easily manipulated.
They’re weak. His father’s nasty voice hissed in his ear as if he had materialized beside him. He stopped in his tracks. A dark presence loomed over this place, but as he stood on the bridge and scanned the area, he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. “Father?” he whispered, half expecting the Fallen Angel to appear beside him. His gaze scanned the boats tethered in the harbor. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Anger welled in him as he shoved his hands into his pockets. The thoughts of his past made him look over his shoulder. Damn his father. “Not all humans are weak!” he shouted to no one in particular, but it felt good to rebel.
His claim rang true. Ryden fought with them tonight. She didn’t whimper when he pulled the Hashasheen spike from her arm. His thoughts shifted to Juliet. Weak did
n’t describe her either—Strong, determined, brave and beautiful. “Enough.” He tried to clear his mind of Juliet, but failed with every attempt. He knew of one way to wipe the siren’s image from his brain. World’s End.
* * * * *
The dark figure glared at Lucca as he made his way over the bridge, but he didn’t go after him. He would wait to make his move. “Timing is everything,” his low growl turned into a harsh laugh. He spread his wings and took flight.
Chapter Twenty
World’s End’s seedy atmosphere laced with stale beer and cigarettes proved the distraction Lucca craved. He sat in a booth in the back of the bar with a Darklin, or Dark Angel, as they liked to be called now. Even the preternatural beings had politically correct terms. Dark Angels were both angel and demon without a drop of human blood running through their veins. In human literature, many authors referred to the Darklins as one of the Fairy folk.
The Dark Angel, Marcy, he thought that was her name, lay sprawled in his lap as if his warmth was a lifeline to her existence. Her lips brushed near his ear, whispering all the nasty things she wanted to do to his body. He’d try anything if it would erase Juliet’s sweet innocence from his mind. He breathed in deeply as he plunged his hand into her dark tresses, drawing her closer for a punishing kiss. Her scent of dark spice threatened to choke him, but he breathed her anyway, wanting to cleanse his senses of all traces of Juliet. Only the more he tried, the more he craved the aroma of cool mint, the healing, light pine scent of rosemary, and the warmth of sunshine.
He nuzzled Marcy’s neck anyway, his hand sliding beneath her short skirt. The poor lighting in the place kept his actions private. He concentrated on the feel of her smooth skin, the warm heat of her, letting him know she was ready for him. Would Juliet’s skin be as smooth? Would she whimper for more as he caressed her…here? “Dammit.” He turned his head away, not wanting to taste the Darklin on his lips.
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