Hellsbane Hereafter (Entangled Select Otherworld)

by Paige Cuccaro

  Except for one.

  Without missing a beat, I crossed the plaza toward the lone man as he watched the light and water show from beneath one of the big umbrellas. He turned his head toward me as I neared, and from the shadows his eyes flashed a brilliant, glowing white.

  My breath caught, heart leaping into my chest for a moment, but then he turned away, gazing back toward the fountain. His dark profile accented the silhouette of his prominent nose and somehow set me at ease.

  I knew this man. He was every bit the unearthly power he seemed, but he was also a trusted ally. I stepped beneath the edge of the umbrella and into the shadows. “Hello, Michael. Fancy meeting you here.”

  The archangel snorted. “There are precious few souls in Heaven or on Earth who would keep an archangel waiting.”

  I made my own sarcastic snort. “Yeah, yeah, so my dad keeps telling me.”

  Saint Michael, the archangel, slayer of Satan, slowly swung his gaze to me, his eyes a flash of glowing white before dimming to the deep blue I’d seen when we’d first met last year. The rules were different for seraphim like Michael who were powerful enough to make themselves look any way they liked. “Sit.”

  I did. Clearly he didn’t get my sense of humor. Who knew?

  For all his power, for all his renown, the archangel Michael chose to look like an average, twenty-something frat boy. He wore a band tee over gray cargo shorts and fat leather sandals. The snug blue T-shirt clung nicely to his chest, his shorts enhancing his narrow hips and muscled legs. He had a jock-star body, with short brown hair brushed softly to one side over thick brows and a distinctly Romanesque nose. He didn’t look like the biblical warrior, mighty right hand to God. But when it came to some seraphim, especially the Council of Seven who weren’t on the same physical plane as the rest of us, looks seriously didn’t matter. His body wasn’t real. It didn’t house his entire spirit the way Eli’s and the others who fought in the war did. Michael’s presence was more of an illusion, like a window he looked through, and he could make it appear however he wanted. Apparently he liked the frat boy look. Whatever.

  I slid the metal chair closer, resting my hands in my lap, as his power prickled over my skin like ice in a rain storm, though there wasn’t even the hint of a breeze. I’d been near him before without enduring the discomforting sensation. He did it on purpose, punishing me for making him wait for my decision. I’d let him stew for months while I decided if I’d take him up on his offer to play double agent for the Council and come to him with info on Jukar and his flunkies. Eli had fallen almost a year ago, and I’d put off giving Michael my decision as long as I could. If I was honest with myself, I still wasn’t sure. But time was running out.

  He’d turned back to stare at the fountain, and I looked over to see what held such fascination. The blue light illuminating the obelisk had turned violet, and just as I turned to stare, it faded to red. Smaller spotlights lit the water jets from beneath, shining up through the shooting streams until it bubbled over and fell back to the granite, pattering with loud plops.

  I waved a finger at the fountains. “I thought they turned those off at night.”

  “They do. I like them better on.” Welcome to the world of angels. Part of the reason Michael and the other Council members only looked through windows at Earth was because that’s the closest they needed to be. Their power could reach through those windows and swat me down just as easily as they could standing next to me. Nice thought. “What did you discover?”

  As far as I knew, my deal with Michael was the only way to get a fallen angel back into Heaven. Of course, earning forgiveness for Eli’s sin of sharing his love and body with me would mean we’d probably never see each other again. But I was desperate. He needed his brothers. Every minute he spent without that connection changed him, making him more like a Fallen: emotional, quick to anger, paranoid, and jealous.

  It was like all the petty emotions of humans that hadn’t been able to touch him before were sinking in, poisoning him, changing him. It wasn’t Eli. It wasn’t the man I’d fallen in love with. I couldn’t protect him from the effects of humanity, but I wouldn’t be the reason he suffered. Not anymore.

  I sighed. Right. No small talk. “Well to begin with, I’m not the only one.”

  His brows shot up. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not an only child. Jukar has a son.” I knew the risk I took with the kid’s life. Jukar feared the seraphim would kill his son just for existing, just for what he might do one day. I bet I could make them a better offer. I bet the seraphim would rather have him on their side than dead.

  “Does it have your abilities?”

  “He.” I hated when seraphim referred to an illorum as “it,” as a thing.

  Michael huffed, clearly bothered by the interruption. “Does he possess your abilities?”

  I shrugged. “Don’t know. I haven’t met him, but Jukar wants me to look out for him, protect him. He says the kid doesn’t even know he’s nephilim.”

  The angel nodded with a passive sniff. “What else?”

  “What else?” I scoffed. “Isn’t that enough?”

  Confusion creased his face. “Enough for what?”

  “Enough to earn Eli’s forgiveness.” Was he being obtuse on purpose, or was he really that clueless as to why I would even consider risking that Jukar would discover I was a double agent? “I mean, you guys are all hung up on me being the kid of an archangel. Now you know I’m not the only one. Isn’t that worth something?”

  The seraph shifted in his seat, angling his body toward me, smugness radiating through every muscle. “Worth forgiving Elizal’s forsaking of his brothers, forsaking the Father, to lay with you, an abomination of the Father’s greatest creation?”

  I swallowed. “Yeah.”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “But you said if I got you some info…” I was starting to whine. Crap.

  “Useful information,” he corrected. “As you said, the nephilim is unaware of his parentage. Until his power has been activated, he is human like any other.”

  “For now.”

  Interest flashed through Michael’s eyes before he shut it down.

  I continued, hoping to capitalize on it. “Jukar wants him to be human a little while longer before he triggers his powers and brings him over. He’s afraid you guys will kill the kid before he can do it.”

  “If he is still human, and his powers still dormant, then he is of no interest to us,” Michael said. “Until his powers are triggered, we seraphim will love and protect him like any other human. He’s an innocent…until he’s not.”

  “What if I used my sword, an illorum sword, to bring him over to the seraphim side before Jukar does?” I sat straighter. Couldn’t help it. Playing a trump card does that for a person.

  “No.”

  “Wha…?” Hadn’t seen that one coming. Why wouldn’t they want another super powerful illorum on their side, someone who had all the perks, privileges, and excuses of being human, plus a mega dose of angelic power?

  “Your cover would be ruined.” His arm rested on the table, and he splayed the long fingers of that hand, studying his nails. “No one but you and I know of our arrangement. Not even the Irish illorum who conveyed the offer knows of your decision. No one can ever know. To all concerned, both seraphim and Fallen alike, you are a gibborim. A traitor.”

  My stomach twisted. I’d known that was what people thought, but hearing it aloud made me physically ill. God, how did I get into this mess? “This bites.”

  He rolled his wrists, palms up in resignation. “It’s your choice. Did you think it would be easy? How badly do you want the reward if your service proves of value?”

  Dumb question. There was nothing I wanted more than to see Eli whole again, to see the damage I’d done to him reversed. “What do you want me to do?”

  His gaze slid back to the fountain, silent for a moment, brows tight. Then he turned back to me. “Perhaps there is a more nefarious
reason Jukar has brought this boy to your notice. Keeping him anonymous would be the best protection. No. There must be something else. Something about the nephilim he fears will be exposed. Something that will reveal him as a threat at some point. Discover what it is, why Jukar really fears for the nephilim’s life.”

  “And if I do? If I bring you something you can use?” I swallowed hard, hating that I might be gambling one life for another. “Can Eli go back to Heaven?”

  His wide lips trembled at the corners as though he fought not to smile. “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On whether Elizal continues to sin.”

  Chapter Five

  Even if I could tell Eli about my conversation with Michael, I wouldn’t. He’d just tell me not to take the deal, that he was happy, that he could handle missing his brothers. In other words, he’d lie. Watching him miss his brothers was like watching someone try to live with only one lung. Some days were good. Other days, not so much. It wasn’t anything I could point to, just a sadness in his eyes, an unguarded moment when his mind would wander, and I knew he endured a pain I couldn’t begin to fathom. My chest physically ached to see that kind of soul-deep pain. He loved me and was happy with me, but I wasn’t what he needed. I loved him enough to do what it took to make sure he got what he needed. No matter what.

  Eli squeezed my hand when Jukar’s stretch limo rocked to a stop in front of my house. I had to play the rich human landlord for my little brother. Lucky for me, my fallen angel father had the funds to pull it off.

  An anxious tickle wiggled through my stomach. I had to admit I was sort of nervous about meeting the little guy. Okay, maybe not so little; he was in college. But he was my little brother. I’d always been the youngest, and I’d never had a brother. What would he be like? What would he think of me? Not that Jukar would allow me to tell him who I was.

  Jukar made everything harder, more complicated, than it had to be. I hated taking any sort of help from him, but I had to get something I could bring to Michael, something that would earn Eli back his grace. More than anything, that was what mattered most.

  I glanced up to flash Eli a smile, grateful for the support. But my breath caught when I met pale blue eyes framed by ink-black brows and silky hair. Crap. There was no doubt about it, the man was hot. Hell, he was an angel. Just touching him ramped my libido into high gear. But it wasn’t the angel thing. It was him: the hard muscled swimmer’s body, the big hands, the soft lips, the unearthly strength and stamina, and the raw, unmistakable desire for me. It was seductive.

  A ripple fluttered through my belly, and I looked away, shutting down my body’s quick response to him. Eli had spent the first year we’d known each other resisting his feelings and desire for me. Now it was my turn. Yay!

  I dropped his hand, rubbed the empty feeling off on my skirt, and headed for the black limo. “Wonder if there’s a minibar in there. I could use a drink.”

  Forty-five minutes later we pulled up in front of the three-story, red brick house on Parkman Avenue. It was only a few blocks from the Cathedral of Learning and the Pitt Student Union, within walking distance of the busy retail shops and restaurants along Forbes Avenue in Oakland, but when the limo door opened, the sound of birds chirping and lawn mowers humming filled the muggy August air.

  The sprawling houses built atop rolling, landscaped knolls, aged gracefully with driveways cut in from the street and shored by six-foot-tall, ivy-covered walls that led to built-in, three-car garages. It was an affluent neighborhood, an elegant slice of community tucked away in a quiet corner of the busy city. So what were a bunch of college-aged guys doing living here?

  Eli climbed out of the limo behind me, straightened the lapels of his duster, and ran a quick hand through his hair. He was so overdressed for the eighty-degree weather, but angels don’t sweat, so why not? I’d tried to get him to change up his wardrobe before, but nothing ever looked as right on him as the frumpy gray duster and the loose, off-the-rack suit underneath. We played a business couple today, so the suit kinda worked.

  I smoothed my butter-yellow skirt and pulled the hem of my sleeveless ivory blouse over the sheath at the small of my back as Eli stepped up beside me. He rested a hand above the handle of my sword, his big palm flat against me, and leaned close to press a kiss to my temple.

  He inhaled, as though savoring the smell of my hair, my perfume, or maybe just me, before he whispered, “You look beautiful.”

  His velvety tone sent a warm shudder rippling through me, his touch tempting me to lean closer. I resisted, stiffening, and took a deliberate step forward away from his hand. “Thanks. We need to focus, though. Hands to ourselves, okay?”

  I glanced back to see confusion flicker across his brows. Doubt warred within his expression, and I could hear his thoughts debating why I didn’t want him to touch me. He was changing, becoming more like the other Fallen every day, suspicious and insecure, and it broke my heart.

  I sighed. “When you touch me, all I can think about is stripping naked and climbing you like a tree. Not the best idea right now.”

  His expression lifted almost instantly, and he smiled. “Lead the way.”

  The steps up to the house curved to the left then straightened, cutting into the hillside much like the driveway. At the top, a large cement patio, decorated with white Adirondack chairs with green striped cushions, leveled the area before the front door. A wrought-iron fence accented a low brick wall around the patio, with two green topiaries shading the narrow windows on either side of the arched entrance. The look was typical for the neighborhood, and so not what I would expect to see outside of a college frat house, although as far as I knew, these guys weren’t part of any fraternity.

  I stopped at the door, finding my balance on the four-inch, nude-colored heels I’d worn. I hated wearing high heels, and anything over flat foot was high. I didn’t appreciate dresses or skirts much, either. I was strictly a jeans and T-shirt kinda girl. Everything else was too much work and didn’t respond well in hand-to-hand fights. Priorities. I got mine.

  But today I wasn’t Emma Jane Hellsbane, half-angel warrior of God. I was Ms. Hellsbane, spiffy businesswoman, here to check on a new investment while secretly insinuating myself into my half brother’s life, so if trouble came knocking, I’d be the one he’d call.

  I jabbed a finger against the glowing doorbell button, listening to the deep tolling sound echoing on the other side. A few seconds passed. I heard voices: someone yelling about answering the door, another person shouting it was probably that lady who bought the house from that company, United America, Inc.

  Was I? Jukar hadn’t told me who he’d bought the house from.

  The door jerked open, and I jumped before I could stop myself. The kid on the other side smiled in smug satisfaction as though my startle was worth his resentment at having to answer the door. “Can I help you?”

  I forced a smile and gave him a quick once-over: navy blue sweater vest, blue button-up shirt, dark tie, light slacks. He was a good-looking kid, probably nineteen or twenty, with a thick head of golden blond hair and dark blue eyes.

  “Hello, I’m Ms. Hellsbane, your new landlord.” I offered my hand. “I believe the realty company told you I’d be stopping by for a final inspection.”

  The young blond leaned forward enough to take my hand, and the second he did, my stomach dropped into the soles of my feet like a quick dip on a high roller coaster. The sensation marked him as nephilim. Was this Abram? Was this my half brother?

  “Yeah, they called us yesterday.” He waved for us to follow. “C’mon in. I’m Pete. Pete Murray.”

  I exhaled, fought to hold my smile, and stepped inside, though the nervous jitters in my stomach doubled. “This is my business partner, Eli, um…Smith.”

  “Sir. Good to meet you.” Pete pivoted, reached to shake Eli’s hand, then continued through the tall foyer. Thick wood furniture polished to a high gloss, plush carpets, and big, finely dressed windows decorated the en
ormous house. A wide staircase filled the space in front of us. Carpeted in forest green, the stairs stretched up to a landing that split in either direction.

  When Pete gestured to the right, I stole a glance to the left, noting a large dining room with a long table that shone in the late afternoon light. Beyond the staircase, I caught a glimpse of wide French doors at the far back of the house but followed Pete into the long living room where four college guys sat.

  “Gentlemen, we have guests.” He kicked the leg of the nearest chair. The boy sitting there jumped and glared back at Pete before he got to his feet.

  The rest of the boys each put down their books or laptops and rose to their feet. They all dressed like good little upwardly mobile young men: shirts, ties, dress slacks, and shiny shoes. Was that for my benefit, or was this really what they wore hanging out in their house while reading and doing homework? That’s twisted. My personal preference for frump attire may have colored my opinion.

  I stopped caring about their wardrobe the second the first college boy stepped up.

  He had to be over six feet tall with a blond buzz -cut and robin’s egg-blue eyes. He offered his hand. “Tom Windfeld.”

  I held my breath, waiting out the sinking feeling that dropped through my stomach. He was nephilim, just like Pete, and when I met his eyes, I saw the pained creases at the corners and knew he’d felt it, too.

  “You bought the house?” Tom asked.

  I swallowed the unsettling response and forced a smile. “I did.”

  He nodded, straightening to look down his nose at me. “Interesting.”

  Eli leaned forward, offering his hand. “Eli Smith. Ms. Hellsbane’s associate. Nice to meet you.”

  The young man took Eli’s hand and offered an acknowledging nod. “Sir.”

  Eli’s seductive silken voice oozed through my mind, like a casual touch, an innocent brush of hands. “Another Nephilim.”

  I shuddered against the bone-melting sensation. “Picked up on that, did you?”

  I’d lowered my mental shields to answer him and left my thoughts thinly protected until we knew better what the heck was going on. The trouble was keeping a handle on the quick spike to my libido his angelic voice stroked through me. I forced a smile for the next boy.