by May Dawson
I fumble with her jeans, trying to shove them down her thighs. She pauses as if she intends to undress me more tenderly. She crouches, her hands tracing down my legs, and looks up at me. “Lean against me and I’ll help you take your shoes off.”
“I can do that myself,” I tell her.
She licks her lips as she looks up at me, and god, the sight could be my undoing. “Maybe I want you to save all your strength for me, Linc.”
Heaven help me. I brace one hand against the wall and ease one foot up at a time, letting her pull my shoes off.
Then she stands and unbuckles my belt. The look she gives me is teasing. “Good boy.”
I growl in response, and she grins as she yanks my pants and boxers down in one move, going to her knees in front of me.
Disbelief turns to desire as she wraps her perfect mouth around my cock. Her hands skate gently over my thighs, her light touch healing on the bruises where Kinley kicked me viciously.
I was already on the verge of losing my mind. Now as her tongue dances over my tip before she takes me in deeply into her sweet, hot mouth, my knees weaken. I can’t stop staring at her face, at her shimmering golden hair that falls over her naked shoulders and breasts as she sucks me off. She keeps glancing up at my face, mischief lighting those beautiful eyes, as if she knows how close I am and she takes joy in pleasuring me.
I let out a rumble as my cock twitches in her mouth. “Eden.”
The word is a warning—we should stop now if she doesn’t want me to come inside her mouth—but she must already know. Those gorgeous eyes roll up to meet mine, her mouth wrapped around my cock, and then she slowly and deliberately swirls her tongue around my cock. I try to hold myself back, but when she begins to draw me into her mouth over and over again, deeper and deeper, there’s no holding back. I brace my hands against the wall above her head as my knees go weak, as my rumble turns into a roar. I shatter inside her, my thighs shaking against her hands.
Then she rises to her feet, a smile across her gorgeous face.
“Come here.” I grab her thighs and lift her easily against the wall again, pressing my body against hers. My cock is already hard again as she wraps her thighs around my waist, her hands gripping my shoulders hard. She kisses me, her lips tasting salty like the ocean, her lips warm. The taste of her reminds me of how sweet she is and it only makes me want her more.
We trade eager kisses as my cock glides across her wet heat. She breaks away, carefully kissing my cheek, finding a spot between my black eye and the swollen bruise across my jaw, and I realize I must look so ugly right now, even though she’s shining and perfect.
“Sorry that I look like a monster right now,” I mutter.
“My monster,” she corrects, “who always protects me. And nothing could stop me from wanting you.”
God. I claim her lips with mine again, teasing my tip against her center, and when she lets out a low breath of desire, I take my cock in my hand and press against her completely. She rolls her hips up, angling herself to take me more easily, and I sheathe myself in her.
She inhales a quick breath as I slide in, as I bury myself in her to my hilt. She feels so good, tight and hot, and my hands tighten on her thighs.
“You good?” I mutter, feeling how she’s stilled.
“Oh, I’m good,” she promises, her thighs tightening as she grinds her hips against mine, pulling me in even tighter.
I begin to move, driving into her over and over, and she lets out a moan into my ear as the heat between us builds. She tosses her head, her hair shimmering in the light, and I bite her neck gently. Her thighs tighten around my waist.
When she comes, I come too, the two of us clinging together.
I carry her to the bed on shaking legs, both of us reeling from the power of that orgasm.
She smiles up at me as I ease onto the bed, my arms still wrapped around her. “You can let go of me, you know. I don’t plan to sneak out again tonight.”
There’s a rueful cast to her lips, as if she’s embarrassed at how her actions played out tonight.
“I know,” I tell her, my voice a growl. I don’t think I can put words to my feelings in the right way, but I try: “I don’t want to ever let you go again, Eden.”
She studies my face, and terrible though I might be at expressing my feelings, she smiles and then she kisses me again.
This time, when we kiss, it’s sweet and tender.
And it turns out I like that too.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Eden
THE NEXT MORNING, as Ever and I walk down the hall to our first class, Gabriel steps in front of us.
“Come with me please, Ms. Greyson,” he says, his voice chilly.
He doesn’t touch me. Some of the other female students stop dead when they see him, before they push each other on like they’re recovering their senses. I shake my head at their girlish giggles, which he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s sexy as hell, or maybe I should say heaven; tall and leanly muscled, his skin bronzed, his bright green eyes in contrast to his shiny black hair.
He steps into my first class and flags down my teacher. “Could you give Ms. Greyson an excused absence, please? We need to have a discussion regarding some of her recent behavior.”
“Noted,” my teacher says. He flashes me a brief smile, and his tone is charged when he says, “Good luck.”
Ever, standing beside me, gives Gabriel a long look.
“Don’t worry, you two will be reunited for your next class.” Gabriel claps Ever’s shoulder, his tone dripping with condescension, but I’m pretty sure it’s all an act. He’s letting Ever know he’ll make sure I’m safe until he returns me to Ever’s protection. The protective act makes me feel stabby, since I’ve done just fine on my own, but it’s sweet, too.
Gabriel heads toward his office.
When I stop to whisper to Ever, Gabriel turns back, his hand settling into the small of my back.
“Now, please,” Gabriel says, his voice polite but touched with the same note of steel as when he offered to let the guards shoot me again if I wouldn’t use my manners.
Part of me wants to tear his arm off for touching me.
Part of me feels a strange ripple of desire. His hand presses my lower back as if he’s escorting me into a nice restaurant for a date. Ha.
His hand falls away as we reach the door. He moves into the office ahead of me. His broad shoulders fill out his dress shirt, which is crisply tucked drawing my attention to the narrow taper of his waist, and his ass looks good in his fitted trousers. I wonder what he looks like naked. It’d be nice to see him smiling for once, looking spent and satisfied, his arm cocked under his head as he gazed up at me…
“Close the door,” he barks as he settles into his chair, and even though that tone grates directly over my last nerve, I don’t even slam the door shut when I close it.
Right. It doesn’t matter how beautiful he is. I’m not happy with him.
“Thanks for coming to Lincoln’s rescue last night,” I say as I sit down. Opening volley.
Lincoln had told us last night that Gabriel had returned from the Sent. He’d made excuses for Gabriel, saying Gabriel arrived after the last blow and couldn’t have helped him anyway, but I still felt furious.
Honestly, I expected Gabriel to be on our side. Whether it was fair or not, he’d disappointed me last night.
We really needed an instructor on our side, too.
Gabriel raises his eyebrows slowly. “Oh, would you like to discuss why Lincoln was punished? Because I would love to talk to you about that.”
“Did you call me in here to yell at me?” I ask skeptically.
“No,” he says, “but it is on the table.”
I glance at the door, and even knowing that we have privacy, my voice still drops to a whisper. “Anything about Kinley?”
He nods slowly. “Yes. Quite a bit. Michael accessed the Sent files about you, which is peculiar as he hasn’t been on your case since a few months
after you ‘disappeared’. We aren’t allowed to indulge in recreational curiosity. It’s the kind of offense that can lead to a reprimand.”
Oh, a reprimand, woohoo. I’d hoped for decapitation.
“I have a Sent file.” I guess that’s no surprise. “What does it say?”
“I wouldn’t know about any updates since I haven’t been assigned to your case for a year or so. I’m not curious.” Gabriel leans back in his chair.
He’s so determined to make sure I know he’s not interested in me. If I were a suspicious kind of person, I’d think he’s trying to hide some inappropriate thoughts of his own.
“You were pursuing me?” I ask. “How come you were so bad at it?”
He ignores me pointedly.
“Still, that’s not career-ending stuff,” he muses. “He’s always made it sound as if he thought you and your little friends might have been there the night his family died. He might hold a grudge.”
He flashes me a thin smile. “You have a knack for making enemies.”
I flash him a smile right back. “But it doesn’t matter, because I have such lovely friends.”
He scoffs at that, even though right now, I’d include him on my friends list. I believe he’s genuinely trying to help me.
I add, “He might, in theory, be checking in on my file because he’s one of my instructors.”
“I think that’s what he would claim,” Gabriel agrees. He sits forward, his green eyes lively. “But I found something a bit more damning when I tried to track down the details of his family’s murder.”
Now things are getting interesting. “What is it?”
“Someone tampered with the files,” he says. “Specifically, David’s time of death appears it may have been altered from the coroner’s examination.”
“Well, that could be damning.”
“It could be. I tracked down the coroner and he referred to his own notes, and he places time-of-death hours before.”
“Just could be?”
He nods. “He is a Sent agent. We don’t have an eyewitness to him doing anything wrong.”
“Oh?” I ask tartly. “Because he beat Lincoln half to death—”
“Oh, did he?” he returns, his voice barbed in a way that makes me wonder if he somehow knew that Lincoln was fucking me against a wall an hour after that beating. Then, more gently, he continues, “You are at a reform school known for rather brutal discipline methods. And our kind heal quickly. Few people outside these walls feel all that sympathetic—especially given the reign of terror you young Lords once enjoyed.”
“I’m sure we’re going to be beaten and abused right into acting like sweetness and light,” I shoot back. “Makes sense. This place is monstrous.”
He can’t argue with me much about this place being a hell hole.
I mean, during the Culling, there literally is a hole to hell.
I demand, “Why are you here? How can you stand to be part of all this?”
His lips tighten with annoyance. He leans forward, resting his forearms on his desk. “Your fellow Nephilim—and the angels themselves—want to see you all take your rightful place in the world. As do I. Do you see how reckless some of these instructors are with the other paranormals’ lives? But Esther and I try to protect you from the worst of it—to give you a chance to learn and live and survive the Culling.”
I shake my head, because it’s hard to imagine any of our instructors as particularly magnanimous.
“Would you be fine with me being beaten the way that Lincoln was?” I demand. “Would you do it yourself?”
He fixes me with a stern look. “Eden.”
I quirk an eyebrow, leaning back in my chair, and cross my legs at the knee. My skirt slips up my thigh. His gaze remains fixed on my face and, disappointed, I continue, “You’re not going to answer that question, are you?”
“Are you going to stay out of trouble so it remains a theoretical?” he demands. He rakes his hand through his hair and sighs before he promises me, “Other Sent agents are looking into the altered files. They’ll try to identify where those alterations in the files originated.”
Subtle change of subject there. “I’m supposed to depend on the Sent? I’m doomed.”
He gives me a severe look. “Can you try to pack away the cynicism for a few days? Give them a chance to work.”
I scoff at that. “I’m sure they really care about the truth. Especially when it would implicate one of their own.”
He seems to search for words. “Sometimes bad people are drawn to power, like being a Sent agent, Eden. I’m not going to deny that they exist in the Sent.”
He goes on, “But most of them are good people. Like you and me.”
Gabriel thinks he and I have anything in common? He’s never been a Lord. He didn’t embrace dark ideals and the seven deadly sins. He’s a free Nephilim, and—as much as he irritates me—he deserves to be.
I raise an eyebrow. “You think we’re good people? That’s cute.”
He gives me a look I can’t read.
Then he says slowly, “Eden, I can’t change how you see yourself. But when I look at you, I see the best of people.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
When it’s time for combat training, the guys and I head out to our favorite spot deep in the woods. The four of us spar, and the guys might be doing their best to kick each other’s asses, but at least it seems good natured this time.
At first, I barely notice the swooping sound of wings through the trees. I’m too focused on evading Lincoln’s attempts to lovingly punch me in the face. But then I hear it again, a heavy beating of wings like something bigger than any normal bird. Like an eagle, or something even bigger than that.
“Time,” I say, grabbing Lincoln’s wrist and deflecting it up to stop him from hitting me. He can’t quite stop himself; he yanks me against his rock hard body. Then he finally stops, our chests heaving as he holds me close. I tell him, “Listen.”
Ever and Julian pause too, and the four of us listen. There’s nothing but the rustle of the wind through the leaves. Then that heavy, slow sound again, near us in the woods. The faint noise grows closer.
Julian squints up at the sky, raising his hand to his forehead. “Are those vultures circling up there?”
“Eerie,” I say lightly.
Then the vultures dive toward us. My eyes widen as I watch the birds plunge toward us.
Their wings spread wide, and they seem to flame at the tips, even though the creatures are dark as night. Their eyes, though, are red and glowering.
“Uh, those aren’t vultures,” Julian says as the same thought registers for all of us.
“Get back to the house!” Ever orders, as I grab a stick off the ground. Lincoln glances at me and follows suit, grabbing a stick.
The four of us take off running back toward the house, staying close together so we can help each other if someone falls. The hell-birds pursue us, diving toward us. One of them slams into Ever, knocking him forward, and he lets out a curt cry.
“Fuck,” he shouts, scrambling to his feet as Lincoln helps him up. He’s bleeding from a gash on his neck.
The same bird wheels and comes at us again, a little braver than his buddies who are still circling overhead. I lash out with my stick as he comes at us again. There’s a solid crack like I’ve just whacked a baseball, and the bird spirals into the trees.
“Nice, Eden,” Julian says.
“Through the woods,” Ever says.
That makes sense--they seem to wheel through the air, then plunge abruptly. The trees should give us some shelter.
“Stay together!” Lincoln reminds us.
As we run through the forest, I hear a familiar chittering sound. Fuck. We’ve blundered into Myrmidion territory.
“We’re on the outskirts of Myrmidion territory,” Lincoln shouts.
“Keep going! We’ll be out of it soon.” Ever calls back.
“Too bad I pissed them off last time I saw them,” Juli
an mutters. A tiny spear sails past my head.
Lincoln’s wings rip from his shoulders, forming a shield for the three of us as we plunge through the woods. Spears plunge into his wings and he roars, but he keeps running.
We burst out of the trees into the clearing that surrounds the Nephilim house
The small training yard outside the Nephilim house is full of students training with Esther. Gabriel is out there too, and they all stare at us in shock as we run full-force out of the woods, shouting and bleeding.
Gabriel’s gaze goes to the treetops behind us, and his eyes widen. “Esther!” he shouts. “Hell’s hawks!”
“Get into cover,” he commands, and the other Nephilim students run past us for the shelter of the dorm.
Esther follows her students into the house, stopping in the doorway to look over her shoulder. Her eyes are wide as she studies the hawks, and it makes my stomach tighten; Esther seems fearless most of the time.
“Take cover,” Gabriel orders us as the sky seems to fill with wheeling hell’s hawks, dark shadows like a whirling cloud above us.
Esther reappears, her arm full of swords. She tosses one to Gabriel, and when she extends her own sword, flame ripples down the blade.
“If we just hide, will they go away?” Lincoln demands.
“No,” Gabriel says as one of the hawks peels off from the flock. It begins to circle above the path in the woods; we can’t see through the trees, but I wonder if the hawk found more prey. Another bird seems to notice and, uttering a harsh call that sounds like a throaty scream, he swoops through the air to join his friend.
Gabriel takes off running.
“Sword,” Lincoln shouts at Esther.
“Watch your tone,” she says, but she throws him a sword. “You kids could take cover with the rest.”
Lincoln plucks the sword out of the air. His wings are still spread, his golden eyes blazing, and he looks far scarier than Hell’s hawks.
“Yeah well, something to prove.” Julian flashes her a smile and holds out his hand.