by J. K. Coi
Amelia sat back on the blanket to shimmy out of her tight-fitting jeans—until she realized she was still wearing her boots.
“Let me.”
Her fingers stilled over the suddenly temperamental laces. He came closer, taking one of her calves in his hand. There was no urgency in his movements as he slowly removed first one of her boots and then the other.
She rested on her elbows, cognizant of his gaze flickering over her legs, belly, and higher, to her breasts. His hands slid up her legs all the way to her hips and fisted the material of her jeans as he dragged them down her thighs, over her knees, and off. Her panties suffered the same fate, landing on top of the rest of her clothes and quickly forgotten.
Sitting back on his heels then, he looked down at her for a long moment. A tic pulsed heavily in his cheek. Worried, she rushed to double-check his mental walls but found them still holding—for now.
“Gabriel?”
“You’re mine,” he said in a grim voice. She trembled in the face of his oath. “Wherever you go after this moment in time, whatever happens to us, never doubt that. Remember what love felt like, Amelia—and don’t ever let that fade. Don’t let it go.”
Her eyes widened.
“Promise me.” His rough-voiced demand ripped her heart wide open as he grasped her ankles with both hands. “Promise forever,” he repeated. “Even if forever only lasts one day.”
“Forever,” she whispered brokenly as she fought back the sudden rush of tears. “You have my promise.”
His hands slid from her ankles up the insides of her calves, splitting her legs with ruthless pressure until he stopped at her knees. Amelia’s sorrow fell away as he removed his clothes with sharp, efficient movements.
When he returned to kneel between her spread thighs, she shivered as his touch melted her insides and set her on fire. His calloused fingers moved over her skin as if he would memorize the feel of her. He tweaked her already-too-sensitive nipples before cupping her breasts for the torment of his mouth. His tongue swirled, his teeth nipped and grazed.
Arching her back with a groan of pleasure, she thrust her hands in his hair to hold him closer. She wanted to be able to slice this moment out of time and keep it with her always, but feared that would be impossible once her transformation to Archangel was completed. “Gabriel, I need—”
“What do you need, angel face?” He murmured the words over her heart before continuing to move lower. “You know I’d give you the world if I could.”
Tossing her head, she instinctively clenched her thighs around his torso, but he wasn’t going to be denied.
“When you come, I want you to shout to the heavens. I need to feel the power of your voice echo in my bones, and I don’t care if all of them hear. Let them all know what they’re missing.”
The bristly abrasion of his chin on her skin as he kissed her belly was a delicious friction that had her gasping out loud. She squeezed her eyes shut, the better to feel every stroke of his thumbs across her nipples, every brush of his hot breath skating over her skin.
She was still trying to take in the mad riot of sensations when he moved lower and dipped his head between her legs. Lights flashed behind her eyelids in a flurry of vibrant, electric color. She was skidding out of control fast, but it didn’t matter. She wanted nothing to mar the perfection of this moment, not worry or doubt or fear.
She let go, freed herself to experience as much pleasure as possible, and felt more than just pleasure. She felt the change—a twinge of discomfort in her belly, a sizzle of heat running up her arms, the rush of power that signaled her Archangel abilities were locking into place.
It happened in a moment, but that was all the time she needed to feel relief that becoming an Archangel hadn’t automatically made her a monster—and a moment was all Gabriel would give her, adding his fingers to her torture, sliding two in and out of her in a frustratingly slow rhythm.
When he finally lifted his head, she was close to screaming but bit her tongue and forced herself to watch him. She wanted another chance to memorize every detail of his face.
He smiled then, eyes flashing with wicked intent as he nipped her hip and started to crawl his way back up her body. She returned Gabriel’s grin, but it was transformed to a hearty groan when he flicked her tight nipple with his tongue before taking it into his mouth.
A glance over his shoulder confirmed that the storm was drawing nearer. The ominous-looking clouds were right over them now. It seemed only fitting that they would be caught in the middle of nature’s awesome fury at the same time the devastating maelstrom raging between them spun higher and hotter.
Gabriel kissed her, tongue penetrating her with fierce possession. Powerful tremors continued to shake her even as he pushed his hard length deep into her wet, willing body. She lifted her hands to his wide shoulders, gripping and shaping the wiry muscles that flexed and shifted above her. Looking into his eyes, Amelia saw her every desire reflected there.
“My angel,” he rumbled. “My strength and my every weakness, all rolled into one devastating package.”
“I love you.” Her voice broke and her vision blurred as he surged deep, shouting her name into the wind.
The first cold drops of rain fell on them both, stinging her cheeks and disguising her tears, but it didn’t hurt nearly as much as her heart.
He wanted to hold her in his arms afterward—hell, he wanted a lot of things when it came to Amelia—but the cold rain soon doused the lingering warmth of their passion and they hurried to dress.
Gabriel scarfed down one of the sandwiches they’d brought along, though he wasn’t very hungry. Quickly, they packed everything else back into the bag, then carefully retraced their steps down the craggy slope, which had turned dangerously slippery and mucky in the storm.
At the base of the small escarpment, on the path circling the lake, which churned in time with the low, rumbling thunder, Amelia suddenly stopped dead in front of him.
He didn’t have to ask. Damn it. The time had come.
“Fuck.”
Above the dark water—floating above it—a lone figure waited. Donato.
The ends of his long black trench coat flapped madly behind him as the wind and rain ripped and tore at it, threatening to blow the bastard away. If only they would be so lucky.
“He’s not alone,” Amelia said, taking Gabriel’s hand.
He nodded, having already picked out most of the other players as well. Three angels stepped out from the trees to their right, another four blocked their way back to the cottage on the dirt path a hundred feet ahead, and he didn’t doubt that they were equally flanked from behind. All were dressed in full angel battle gear, wings steady, swords drawn.
“Cassiel.” Amelia’s whisper was ripe with hurt and disappointment.
Gabriel followed her gaze. That angel stood conspicuously alone on the other side of the lake. He wore no armor and hadn’t revealed his wings, but Gabriel wasn’t placing any bets that he just happened to be in the area.
She’d obviously wanted to believe there was some redeeming shred of honor in that one. Perhaps she hadn’t thought he’d stoop so low as to join forces with an evil lunatic to ambush them in the middle of nowhere, but Gabriel couldn’t say he was particularly surprised.
“Are you ready to do this?” he murmured, squeezing her hand.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded.
“Then why don’t you show them exactly who they’re fucking with, baby.”
She looked up at him. Rain streamed down her cheeks and off her nose, droplets hanging from her long eyelashes. Suddenly, a wicked grin lifted her beautiful lips, and Gabriel’s heartbeat tripled. God, he was so proud of her. She was so damn strong, and he wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to stand at his side in this battle.
“All right, but I want you to stay behind me. Stay safe.” Amelia stretched onto her toes and boldly kissed him before dropping his hand and stepping forward. The spectacular light of her aura brightened with
the force of her power. It encompassed her in glorious colors that were reflected and amplified by the pounding rain as her pure white wings materialized and spread wide.
Clad in gleaming golden armor, she turned her face upward for a brief moment.
“Let them have it, angel face.”
Her face cleared of all expression as she fixed her gaze on Donato, who hadn’t moved from the spot where he hovered in the dark sky.
She raised her hand. A sizzle sounded as the fireball quickly formed in her palm. The rain could not diminish its intensity as she sent it hurtling toward Donato’s head.
The bastard cut left but not quickly enough. He took Amelia’s hit in the shoulder, and his body flew back as he was sent ass over teakettle in the air.
Donato’s pained grunt reached them even over the fury of the storm. “So the little avenger has become one of them. An Archangel,” he cried out, righting himself and glaring at Amelia. “And yet, the human still breathes. Do I sense a division of loyalties?”
Amelia laughed, the pure sound of her voice a direct contrast to Donato’s vicious snarl. “You don’t need to worry about my loyalties, Donato. All of them are agreed in at least one respect—that you’re an annoying little gnat who’s caused enough trouble for everyone.”
The angel’s face distorted with rage, and he came at them so fast Gabriel had no chance to move. The breath was knocked out of him as Amelia shoved him out of the way, and then the sound of clashing swords rang in his ears.
Someone grabbed him and spun him around. Without thinking, Gabriel’s fist shot out to drop his attacker with a hard left hook.
The angel on the receiving end shook off the hit and swore. “What was that for?” Cassiel. The idiot actually sounded surprised that Gabriel would try to defend himself. “I’m only trying to keep you safe from Donato,” he said.
“Right. And after the last time you screwed me over, do you think I’m going to believe that?” Gabriel laughed, but his attention was on Amelia’s battle with Donato.
“You can believe whatever you want, but you’d be wise to accept my assistance considering the number of other angels eager for a piece of you.”
“I’m a popular guy.”
“Given your less than stellar personality, I can’t imagine why.” Cassiel threw him a half-assed sneer, but he was distracted by the other angels surrounding them. For the moment, it seemed everyone stood back to watch Amelia and Donato, as if there was money riding on the fight.
“Amelia seems to have manifested a few new tricks, but she can’t possibly take them all on by herself.” As if to prove Cassiel right, Amelia twisted in the air, escaping a deadly swipe of Donato’s blade by the skin of her teeth.
Gabriel hissed but held himself back. It took everything he had, but he knew charging into the middle of this now would only put Amelia in more danger. “Sounds like you’re sporting some pretty colorful, emotive language these days, Cass. What gives? Get kicked out of your angel realms for dealing with the devil?” Scorn dripped from his voice. “Or did you just decide to come slumming for a while and figured you’d take in a show?”
“I don’t expect the likes of you to understand the consequences of this battle to my race.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. The truth is I don’t give a flying fuck about you or your narcissistic race.” He swung his fist at the angel’s head again, eager to put a dent in that too-pretty face. Cassiel ducked and grabbed his arm, then shoved Gabriel behind him.
Donato’s goons must have decided it was time to get in the game. They moved forward, quickly bearing down on him. Neither of the angels facing him looked familiar, but the two who circled behind had been present at Lila’s house. With a flash of golden light, Cassiel’s white and grey-flecked wings appeared. He drew an impressive sword of his own and moved to stand at Gabriel’s back.
He was surprised at the angel’s sudden flip in allegiance but didn’t have time to question Cassiel’s motives.
They were surrounded and outnumbered, but he threw the first punch, smiling as his fist wiped the aloof arrogance off one angel’s face and sent him careening a few steps into his buddy. “You got something else hidden under those wings of yours?” he called to Cassiel, wondering what it would take to conjure a sword of his own and deciding he couldn’t risk the strain on his flimsy control. Not yet. “Like maybe a submachine gun?”
Cassiel glanced over his shoulder. His own sword was already smeared with blood, but it didn’t look like any of the angels he faced were falling back. “You wouldn’t need a weapon if you accepted your fate and let me help you release Lucifer’s soul—”
“Jesus, are you still singing that perverted angel song?” Gabriel kicked out with his booted foot. He caught one of his attackers in the gut. The angel stumbled, but charged right back into the fray, his sword taking a slice out of Gabriel’s thigh before he could slide out of the way. He blocked the next swipe, and the next. “I meant it last time when I said—” but he wasn’t quick enough to dodge the fist coming at his face, felt his nose crush on impact, “—you could go screw yourself.” He coughed, tasting blood. “I’m not giving you whatever it is you’re after.”
Cassiel’s huff of contempt was audible even over the sound of clanging steel as he fought another pair of angels. “You’d prefer letting Amelia die? Unleashing hell on earth?” he threw back. “Is your life worth so much? I believed you to be honorable…”
“I’ve never been called honorable in my life.” Gabriel snorted and shook cold snakes of wet hair out of his eyes to better see the two angels taking turns pummeling him. They were so quick and so strong, none of the hits he managed to land really made a difference. And yet as much as his nose was broken, one eye had already swollen shut, and he’d taken steel across the thigh so that his blood mixed with the rain and mud, it felt like they were playing with him. Killing time. “And nobody better dare start that shit now.”
His fingers twitched with the power that was now a constant thrumming in his blood, but he held it back and closed his hand back into a fist instead.
“Donato’s a power-hungry sociopath,” he continued, ducking out of the way of a swinging sword, “but at least he’s straight-up crazy—not a backstabbing lowlife creep.” Countering with a hard jab, he connected with the flesh-covered steel of an angel’s cheekbone and his hand throbbed. The angel barely moved. They thought they knew now the extent of his strength, and were no longer fazed by what he dished out. “I’d rather take my chances with him.”
He wanted to smash the matching looks of cold contempt off these bastards who thought they were doing such a great job keeping him occupied while Amelia fought for her life. She had been drawn deeper into battle by Donato and the bulk of his small army. Even as Gabriel dodged fists and steel, he kept the light of her aura in his sights. He saw when she stumbled, and that was the last straw. Gathering the fire inside him, he let it build while doing everything he could to maintain a rigid control over it.
Control was key. He couldn’t afford to slip and give Lucifer the opening he was looking for.
The fireballs exploded from his palms, punching a hole through the circle of angels surrounding them. One after another he sent flying back into the mud, and he kept them back with an invisible barrier that formed for him as naturally as breathing.
Cassiel turned on him then, sword held high. “I gave you one last chance, human. But if you won’t accept your destiny,” he shouted, “I can’t let Donato have you. I’m actually sorry it has to come to this.”
“Yeah, you look really broken up.” He sent out another quick volley of fire and Cassiel went flying into the trees. He smiled but knew the angel wouldn’t stay down for long.
Suddenly, he heard Amelia shout his name. Swinging around, he saw Donato coming toward him while his entourage had her completely surrounded. She looked frantic, trying to plow through them to get back to his side, but she wasn’t going to make it.
He was relieved she’d be out of t
he way for what was to come next.
Gabriel met Donato’s startling blue-eyed gaze. It threw him for a split second because the color was an almost exact match for Amelia’s eyes. “I owe you for the death of my friend,” he said, lifting his voice over the sound of the crashing thunder.
“I have a feeling you’ll get a chance to see him again in good time.” Donato laughed. “As soon as I get what I want, of course.”
“Well then, asshole, what are you waiting for? I won’t even fight you for it. If you want Lucifer, come and get him. You’re welcome to the bastard.”
Amelia had promised him that he would have survived the process, if he’d relinquished the dark angel’s soul to her without a fight. That meant he should have the same chance of survival now, as long as he didn’t resist Donato. The problem being, of course, that he’d be at the bastard’s mercy until the transfer was complete, and Donato was the type of crazy to go ahead and kill him anyway, just for kicks.
Not to mention Gabriel had a few issues with the idea of willingly submitting anything to the person who’d murdered David. But he’d do it. He’d do it because whether he survived today or not, it was his best chance of saving Amelia. And if by some miracle this actually worked, theoretically they’d have a slim window of opportunity to take Donato and Lucifer out in one shot—before Lucifer’s soul asserted itself and flooded Donato with power.
Still, Gabriel really wished he had that submachine gun right about now. The look on Donato’s face promised pain, guaranteed that Gabriel would scream before this was over.
“It’s smart that you’ve decided not to fight the inevitable,” Donato said. “But it only means you might actually live long enough to watch the little Avenger over there die. Her transformation to Archangel is a bonus. It won’t save her, but her blood will usher in a new order for all the angels. She’ll be the first casualty in a war that will finally bring the Archangels to their knees before me. Once Lucifer’s soul has merged with my own, all the angels and all the worlds shall be forced to recognize my power—”