Fierce Angels

by May Dawson

  The three of them exchanged a glance. There was something understood between them that I certainly didn’t understand. But I couldn’t ask in front of Nimshi.

  “That’s all right,” Nimshi said. “I’ll take my chances with the forces of hell. With Samael dead, there’s no one left corporeal. I think I can handle hell’s human army.”

  “I don’t like the sound of hell’s army,” I said, “Even when they’re just humans.”

  “You can just let me out here,” Nimshi said, reaching for the door handle as we neared a red light. But Ryker glanced down the approaching cross street and then just accelerated, booking it through the red light just before cars whizzed through the intersection. I gritted my teeth. Fun.

  Nimshi yanked at the door handle, but it didn’t open. He sat back in his seat, his eyes narrow and wary. “I’m right next to your girl. You might want to go ahead and let me out.”

  “You’re not going to hurt her,” Jacob said.

  “You said that with a lot of confidence,” I said drily. As if he didn’t care if I did get hurt or not.

  “I just know you’ve got him all screwed up too,” Jacob said, his voice amused.

  Ryker glanced over at him, his eyes widening. “Excuse me?”

  “We’ll talk at the house,” Jacob said.

  “No, we won’t.” Nimshi said.

  I felt him shift next to me, going for his weapon. Levi leaned back in his seat, looking relaxed; everyone else seemed awfully comfortable with me sitting cozily next to the blood-splattered murderous half-demon.

  “Looking for your knife?” Levi said. He patted the inside of his leather jacket. “You don’t need that here, friend.”

  “Friend? Why don’t you pull over then, since we’re all friends?”

  “We just want to talk in peace,” Ryker said. “Make sure you’re… safe.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Nimshi said. “We’re all friends. There’s no hard feelings over…”

  “Over what?” Jacob asked, his voice quiet and dangerous.

  Nimshi shook his head. There was an edge of desperation in his eyes, but he, too, leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. He sat stoically as the car raced towards home, the wheels whirring against the wet road.

  28

  When I saw the bright lights of the house ahead, lit up against the night when we pulled down the driveway, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Levi opened the car door and I could see the gravel still moving; the car hadn’t stopped yet. But he jumped out, catching himself smoothly, and slammed the car door shut before Nimshi could lunge across the seats. I could feel the tension coiling in Nimshi’s muscles. He was ready for a fight. Jacob, too, was out of the car in a second, and when they swung open Nimshi’s door, he came out of it swinging at them. Desperately.

  The two of them piled on top of him, dropping him to the ground, a struggle as fists and elbows flew. I climbed out of the car on the other side, feeling sick to my stomach over yet another turn of violence. It was one thing to kill the men who had trapped us in the demon’s case, because we had to survive. It was one thing to kill the Company men who came at us with guns dawn.

  But for Nimshi to have tortured his own brother, that was something else. And for Jacob and Levi now to bear up a bruised, cuffed Nimshi over their shoulders, staggering with him towards the house, was something else altogether, too.

  My brief sense of joy at being home fizzled as I followed them towards the house. Ryker went ahead, already drawing his gun, to clear the house. So the four of them—the four brothers who didn’t know it—went into the house first.

  And I stopped on the porch, looking back at the dark pines that lined the boys’ property. The night was still and warm, the air heavy with the scent of evergreen and dust and summer flowers.

  I didn’t know what to tell them to do with Nimshi. It didn’t matter if he had been born into the world to be the Fourth. We could never trust a demon.

  Brother or not, I bet these boys would kill him easily for what he’d done to Jacob and me. And the thought made my heart rise into my throat, a jolt of anxiety, so I turned and followed the sounds of their voices, down the smooth pine floors and warmth of the house to the basement stairs, and down.

  To a room beyond the office that I’d never seen before, concealed behind a hidden wall in the bookcases, a door that gaped open now.

  I followed them to a bare room, left half-finished, windowless. A cage stood in one corner, a box made of metal bars and cinderblock. It was not much taller than me. Jacob pushed down on Nimshi’s head, making sure he didn’t hit the top of his head, as they shoved him into the cage.

  Nimshi turned, a dangerous look written across his face, but the door was already slamming shut.

  “We just want to talk,” Levi said.

  “And you don’t have enough faith in the three of you to think you can take me? If we just sat around and drank a few beers and caught up?” Nimshi asked.

  “We’re not giving you another chance to hurt Ellis,” Ryker said.

  “You don’t care about that one, huh?” Nimshi jerked his chin at Jacob.

  “He’s tough,” Ryker said. “We’ll be back.”

  Ryker turned his back on Nimshi and nodded me back out of the room ahead of him.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and stormed out. Bossy, bossy.

  Jacob pushed the door shut between us and Nimshi, and then sank into a chair. “Christ, what a day. Couple of days.”

  “Did it to yourself,” Ryker said, taking the seat opposite him, his long, lanky legs kicked out in front of him. “Don’t feel sorry for you.”

  “I never said otherwise,” Jacob said.

  Ryker leaned forward, resting his hand on his shoulder. Just for a second, he looked into Jacob’s face and he said gruffly, “Glad to have you back, brother.”

  I felt a warm glow in my chest, knowing what that would mean to Jacob when their relationship wasn’t the easiest. Jacob gave a quick, curt nod. Ryker leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

  “So why don’t we start at the beginning,” Levi said. “With what the hell you two were doing—and thinking—from the time we left you alone for one damn night.”

  “How did things go with your dad?” I asked curiously.

  Ryker sat forward, holding a finger up, his expression serious. He leveled that finger at me. “No.”

  “What?” I asked flatly.

  “Talk,” Ryker said. His eyes flickered over to Jacob, as if he were taking in how exhausted Jacob was, the evidence of multiple beatings still evident in the split lip, the black eyes, the cut in his eyebrow. “Then sleep. Then we deal with our new friend.”

  “Leave him there overnight,” Jacob said. “It’s the least we can do.”

  “We’ll take turns watching him while these two idiots sleep,” Ryker said, but there was no rancor in it. “Preferably together, given… that.” He indicated Jacob’s face.

  “Talk,” Levi said firmly.

  Jacob shifted reluctantly, but the gig was up. “Ellis and I thought we’d found a spell to reverse the curse between us. So we went to Turner to pick up some ingredients and also to find out what he thought about bringing Ash back from the dead…”

  Ryker rubbed his hand over his face, the movement quick and exasperated. This was already going well.

  “You thought you’d reverse a millennia-old curse from God with some herbs and a Bic.” Levi nodded. “Good call.”

  “In hindsight, it wasn’t the best call.” Jacob, for once, sounded chagrined. It must hurt his pride to admit he’d make a mistake.

  “I didn’t want him bound to me when he didn’t want to be,” I said. “Speaking of being bound unwillingly to destiny, yadda yadda. I think Turner kidnapped us because they wanted the Nephilim, and I came as part of the two-pack. Until Samael grabbed me, he didn’t know who I was.”

  “And when he recognized you…”

  “Nimshi killed Samael. He set us free.”

 
“Not that it would have mattered,” Levi muttered, “Since we were four minutes away from rescuing you.”

  “What did Samael want with you?” Ryker demanded.

  “We didn’t get the chance to find out,” Jacob said. “Since Nimshi bashed his skull open. But on this one, I am Team Nimshi.”

  I nodded, thinking of the glitter in Samael’s eyes when he recognized me. “Me too.”

  “And you think Nimshi is…” Ryker trailed off.

  The silence hung in the room for a minute. Levi crossed his arms over his broad chest, leaning against the book case, but even when he was still, I could feel the tension in his body. Ryker’s deep blue eyes were on mine, his jaw set.

  I took a deep breath.

  “I think he’s the Fourth,” I said. “You guys know how it feels… when we touch each other. And he’s only half-demon.”

  Ryker jumped to his feet, pacing angrily across the floor, swiping a hand through his hair. I turned and met Jacob’s gaze. His eyes were cool, watching his brothers without sharing their obvious agitation.

  Ryker turned back at the far end of the room. “You think my mom had sex with a demon?”

  “Or she was raped.” Jacob said flatly. He held himself stiffly.

  Ryker’s lips formed around the word raped soundlessly, as if he couldn’t say it. He swiped both hands through his hair. “And that… that…”

  “That would be the baby we thought died,” Jacob said. “The demons she fought. They came to collect the baby.”

  “But we saw…” Ryker trailed off, shaking his head. “What we saw. You wouldn’t know, Jacob.”

  “No, I wouldn’t,” Jacob said. “Because nine months after she saved me from the demon’s case, I was already in England.”

  “Could she have twisted our memory?” Levi asked, his voice soft. “If we saw the demons make her deliver the baby… then maybe she used a spell on us. So we wouldn’t go looking for him. So we wouldn’t have to know…”

  Jacob pushed back his chair, standing. “Let’s discuss tomorrow.”

  His voice was gruff.

  “Twisting our memory? That’s black magic stuff.” Ryker shook his head.

  He’d joked before that his mom was a little bit black magic, saying it fondly, like it was naughty behavior but he admired her anyway. The way another kid would betray a parent’s secret like listening to Britney Spears or day-drinking at the PTO meeting. But now he didn’t say black magic lightly.

  Jacob’s feet clattered going up the stairs. I stood up too.

  Ryker pointed to my chair. “We’re not done here, Firestarter.”

  “I am,” I said. “For tonight. You’ll forgive me tomorrow, Dreamstalker. Right now, I have to help Jacob.”

  “Sit down,” Ryker said, jumping to his feet, but I was already turning and running for the stairs. I heard Ryker’s growl of exasperation behind me.

  The downstairs of the house was still and quiet. I glanced towards the front door; I would have expected Ryker to make a run for the woods, if he were the one running from his feelings. But I guessed Jacob would go to his books.

  If I was wrong, though, I’d probably not find him tonight.

  I bet that I knew Jacob well enough by now, although I could feel my heart pound worrying that he would be left alone, and I made my way up the stairs. It was strange to walk back down this hallway, remembering the fight we’d had when we all crowded into this hall a few days before.

  I knocked on Jacob’s smooth, dark wood door. “It’s me.”

  Come to think of it, it’s me was maybe not great incentive for him to open the door.

  But after a few seconds, I could feel his presence on the other side of the door—the cool, clear sense I always had when Jacob was near, as if he stilled my wild heart and made my brain engage—and I could feel him hesitate. Then the door was pulled open a crack. Jacob stood framed in the doorway. His eyes met mine evenly. I parted my lips, but I didn’t know what to say, where to begin to comfort him.

  “She probably couldn’t bear to look at me.” Jacob said, his jaw set. He looked as if he were bearing up stoically, forcing himself to face the facts.

  I was the one who shook my head, denying it.

  “Nimshi was the bargain. I thought she fought her way in there…”

  “You don’t know any of that,” I said. “Not for sure.”

  “What’s the alternative, Princess? That my mother just happened to bed a demon around that time?”

  “Maybe,” I said. I desperately wanted to wrap my arms around him, to hold him close and try to calm his rapid-beating heart, but I knew from our time in the case that my touch would not ease his pain. Not his real pain. “What’s in your mom’s journals?”

  He shook his head. “There’s a missing one. That year. I thought it was because she wanted to make sure I was protected, just like she… burned all the pictures…”

  “I’m sure that was it,” I said, but I was lying. “She just wanted to protect you.”

  “Guess we’ll never know,” he said.

  “Maybe we’ll find her in the Far,” I said.

  Jacob slumped against the side of the doorway, but he also pushed the door further open, inviting me in. “We’re not going to the Far, Ellis. Not without the Fourth. And not with him.”

  “Roxy went into the Far with just two of her guys,” I said.

  “Roxy died,” he said. “You’re not making a great case here.”

  I ran my hand over my face. “Let’s just take a shower and go to bed. We’ll figure it all out in the morning.”

  Jacob nodded. “We need to think about our approach to Nimshi, too.”

  “You need to think about your approach in the morning.” I stepped into the room, gently running my hands over his hard-chiseled abs, feeling them contract slightly even through the thin material of his t-shirt. “For now, let it go. Just rest.”

  He stared down at me, his eyes troubled.

  “Don’t worry,” I said, my voice coming out slightly ragged. “I know you don’t want to sleep with me. To be touched by me. I just… I’ll heal you if you need healing, and I’ll go.”

  “I didn’t say that,” he said. He took my jaw in his hand, his thumb brushing against my lip. The pad of his thumb pressing against my lip sent a jolt through my body.

  Yep. Two hours out of the demon’s case, and I was back to being horny. Even though I desperately needed some rest.

  “You wanted me to stay away from you,” I said, my voice coming out small.

  He swallowed hard, his eyes darting briefly upwards, as if he were seeking strength. Then he looked back down at me. “When I’m having a flashback, it hurts to have anyone too close to me.”

  “But if you aren’t…”

  “It always hurts not to touch you, Ellis,” he said. Those fingers on my jaw tilted my chin up as his head arched down to mine.

  I stopped him with a finger on his lips. Turn-about was fair play.

  “That’s not the sweetest thing to say,” I said. “I don’t want it to hurt. I want you to want me.”

  His brows drew together slightly, regarding me in bewilderment. “Are you new here?”

  “So the spell didn’t work?” I asked.

  He drew back slightly, his eyebrows lifting slightly, as if he was surprised I wanted to talk instead of kissing. But at least I’d successfully distracted him from his guilt over what his mother might have done to save him. Romance, for once, was the lesser horror for Jacob.

  “Guess not,” he said. “But even if it had.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Even if it had…what?”

  He sighed impatiently. “Are you trying to drive me mad?”

  “Maybe. Do I still smell like red-hots?”

  “Like red hots and sexual frustration,” he told me.

  I felt my lips arch in an involuntary smile. “Even if it had… what?”

  “Even if the spell had worked, I’d still want you,” he said, his voice gruff, as if I were pulling a conf
ession out of him. “The bloody lunatic who begged…” he trailed off, as if it hurt him to remember how I’d offered myself up to torture in his place.

  He tilted my chin up, a little more stubbornly, and said firmly, “The bloody lunatic.”

  “You’re still terrible at romance, Jacob.”

  “You’re still a pain in the ass, princess.”

  I rested my hands on his broad chest, feeling the hardness of his pecs, his warmth, and the rapid beating of his heart under my palm. It matched the frantic beating of my own heart.

  His thumb swept across my lips, finding the corner of my mouth, and then his lips followed. He kissed me hard; there was nothing tender in the way Jacob kissed me. It was all heat and passion. It was exactly what I wanted right now, when I was still thrilled to be alive. I pressed myself back into him, kissing him back hard. I imagined my lips bruising him, marking him, making him mine.

  He pulled back slightly, touching the corner of his mouth where it was split.

  My eyes widened. “Sorry.”

  “You’re the best kind of hurt,” he said fervently.

  He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around my thighs, and I wrapped my arms around his neck just before he pulled me up, holding me easily against his body. I clenched my thighs around his lean waist as he carried me into his bedroom.

  “We do both stink,” he said.

  I crinkled my nose at him. “Not sexy.”

  The two of us stumbled through the door at the far corner of his room and into the bathroom.

  “Fine, not sexy,” he said, stepping with me into the shower and setting me down on the edge of the narrow tile seat. Although his fingers brushing up my skin felt pretty damn sexy, come to think about it. “I’m being honest.”

  I glanced up at the showerhead over his broad shoulder. “You have been threatening this for ages.”

  “I wasn’t planning on a cold shower,” he told me. He leaned over, one arm braced on the wall behind me, to kiss me again. His lips were tender this time. “I hoped it would be hot.”

  I took his big biceps in my hands, holding him close to me, kissing him back, and then nuzzled my lips against his beard-stubbled cheek. “I guess I’ll let you know.”