Only You (UnHallowed Series Book 3)

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Only You (UnHallowed Series Book 3) Page 3

by Tmonique Stephens


  “Missing? Defected to the other side?”

  Malphas growled and she felt the rumble in her own chest. “There is nothing sexier than an intelligent woman.” He stepped closer to her. “Defected. Taige is gathering an army, for what purpose?” He gave a careless shrug.

  “Don’t lie. He has the portal. He wants to open it.”

  He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Not possible without an archangel. Is that why you’re here? To survey the situation for Michael?” Malphas held up his hands. “Not that I want his exalted presence polluting my playland. He can stay right where he is in Heaven.”

  “So you want me to play the go between for you and the UnHallowed. Plead your case?” She snorted. “What’s in it for me?”

  His voice was all about the seduction. “What would an angel like you desire?”

  “End hunger, forge world peace, nothing complicated. In lieu of that, I want the Cruor in my possession. Not yours. Because I don’t trust you.”

  A grin spread across his face, reminding her of a shark just before it takes that fatal bite. He removed a hand from his pocket and adjusted the bulge in his pants. “Now you’ve got me hard.”

  “Am I interrupting?” Gideon appeared at the mouth of the tunnel.

  “No, not at all,” she said and stifled her unexpected grin at Malphas’s frown. She tipped her head at Gideon. “What about him?”

  Gideon moved to her side as if they were a united front. She thought of the woman still in the underground cell and let him stay. In Braile’s memories, Gideon was loyal. He loved the UnHallowed and he loved Braile. A sob stirred in the back of her throat. There was more to his story than the betrayal of the UnHallowed, and she wanted to hear it.

  “Release the woman. Release her and I will take you to the UnHallowed. Whether they accept you, that’s up to them, not me,” she ordered Malphas.

  “Dina isn’t going with us,” Gideon said, gaining her attention.

  “You’re leaving your girlfriend in a cage?”

  Gideon’s stark gaze raked her. “My wife, and she has a Darkling inside of her. She doesn’t want to be free. And I agree. When the Darkling is in control, she isn’t. She refuses to put others in harm’s way. For my assistance with the UnHallowed, Malphas will remove the Darkling.”

  And there was the bargain with the devil. She didn’t approve, then again, who was she to judge? She couldn’t say she wouldn’t do the same for her husband if she were married. The determination on Gideon’s face was a big Fuck You to anyone who had a problem with his decision.

  “But she will be comfortable.” Gideon glared at Malphas.

  Malphas gave a curt nod. “Of course. There are several places we can move her. Someplace where she’ll be guarded and protected.”

  Gideon’s gaze glowed neon red, then he gave a brisk nod, and returned to the tunnel.

  Amaya watched him go and waited until he was out of earshot. “I’ve seen humans infected by Darklings up close. Are you sure you can deliver on your promise?” she asked for herself, not Gideon.

  “Who do you think discovered how to achieve the bond five hundred years ago? Discovered and discarded. I have principles.”

  She canted her head to the side and waited for him to continue. In their short time together, she knew Malphas loved hearing his own voice and giving himself praise. He wouldn’t end the story until he’d cast himself as saint and savior, worthy of recognition and praise for doing the right thing, taking the high road. As if doing good was such a monumental achievement.

  “In my time here, I have spent the majority of it as a protector of humanity. Infecting humans brings the wrath of the Celestial Army. That attention is something an introvert such as myself does not need. I love my existence and want nothing jeopardizing it. Do I take advantage? Of course, though no more than an average human.” He gave a short bow, not to her, but in deference to his brilliance.

  Made sense, but that meant the Spaun didn’t care about the Celestial Army. If the Spaun didn’t care about Heaven’s wrath, then… Oh Shit! There was nothing stopping them from declaring all-out war on humanity. Amaya hid her epiphany under a blank mask. “You attacked the UnHallowed. Showing up with me for a tea social won’t keep the lot from gutting you.”

  His snort said, ‘Let them try.’ “I attacked that traitorous Spaun, Taige, and his cohort, Aiden. I knew it was a matter of time before the UnHallowed and Taige came for the Cruor. I enjoy a wager now and then. Hell, I do own a few casinos around the world. So I placed my chip on red—the UnHallowed. Though I did hedge my bet. I sensed their presence hours ago.”

  “And hoped with Gideon in your corner—”

  “Would allow me to explain the benefits of pooling our resources and working together, before the battle ensues, which guarantees drawing the attention of Michael and Braile,” he spat at the end.

  He didn’t know, and couldn’t know according to Gideon. “All that righteous indignation, yet you still infected Gideon’s wife with a Darkling.”

  He sighed as if tired of explaining. “Means to an end. Infect one person and save millions. A war between Spaun, The UnHallowed, and the Celestial Army will spill over. Humans will be cannon fodder. And if the Demoni Lords get loose…think apocalypse.”

  “Would you stand on the sidelines and take bets? You certainly don’t seem the kind to place your neck on the line for anything or anyone, except yourself.”

  And that’s why he doesn’t want the Cruor open, the narcissistic bastard. The planet only had room for one Demoni Lord and he was it. The self-centered, egotistical asshat doesn’t want to share.

  Finally, something worked in her favor.

  “I will do what’s necessary,” Malphas stated with enough conviction Amaya believed he’d do just that, for the good or the bad.

  Now to get his narcissism to work for me. “All right. I’ll help you. Here are my terms—and they are not negotiable.”

  Chapter Five

  “Anything?” Bane demanded from Gadreel the second the former Angel of Weapons exited the shadows in the corner of the dining room. From the neck down, every inch of him was covered in a double layer of leather with a fine empyreal mesh in between, protecting his skin from contacting man-made weapons. Such was the punishment given to the former Angel of Weapons. Gadreel gave a single shake of his head. He was the second one to report in after Tahariél.

  “Do you have any new leads?” Gadreel asked and studied the map tacked to the wall behind Bane.

  Red stick pins denoted Malphas’s various properties and businesses in no less than thirty countries. The maps splayed across the dining table in front of Bane were of specific cities where the Demoni Lord had multiple holdings: New York, San Francisco, Houston, Vancouver, Hong Kong, and Tokyo.

  All of the info Bane had gleaned from the internet. It wasn’t enough. The crafty bastard had to have more holdings, dummy corporations, companies where he was the silent partner, and aliases. It was how Rimmon had amassed his fortune in the human world. There was even the possibility of properties owned by Malphas’s minions—Spaun, most likely, but there were other demonkin above ground to do the bidding of the Demoni Lord.

  Then there was the human contingent to factor. Humans, who for the right amount of money would do anything requested.

  Two days. Two goddamned days of nothing.

  Bane studied the profile he’d pulled up on a tablet Rimmon had provided. The picture was of Malphas behind a podium, accepting a gilded award. The headline read “Philanthropist Donates Fifty Million to Global Health.”

  Bane didn’t see the playboy billionaire the world ogled. He saw the escapee from Hell. He saw pestilence, vermin, disease, and cruelty. He saw all the things Malphas was doing to Amaya in the two goddamn days she was his care.

  The wood beneath his fingers crumbled as the leash on his anger frayed. Then snapped. He flipped the dining table, sending it careening into the opposite wall.

  Daghony clamped a hand onto Bane’s shoulder
only to be knocked away. Bane spun and punched the wall behind him. It was either that or pummeling Daghony, who’d just climbed out of bed yesterday. Pretty, pink, unblemished skin covered his body. It was too soon to ruin it with an unwarranted beat down.

  “Malphas has no reason to kill her,” Daghony said.

  “He also has no reason to keep her alive,” Tahariél—ever the voice of wisdom—muttered as he leaned against the archway to the dining room, his favorite stance. He, Daghony, and Gadreel were the only other ones present. Chay and Kush recovered from their burns at Maximum Effort Gym under the care of Scarla and Sophie. Zed and Rimmon recovered downstairs in their basement suites. Ioath had yet to report in.

  Clusterfuck. From the inception to the execution, the entire plan to retrieve the Cruor was an acid wash to the eyeballs. Hindsight was, is, will always be, a bitch.

  I should’ve taken her with us instead of her showing up on her own. That was the dagger stabbing his conscience.

  Truth be told, he didn’t expect her resourcefulness. No way could she possibly get from Detroit to Vegas in six hours before daylight arrived, not by car, and she wasn’t strong enough to fly that distance in the allotted time. Getting on an airplane was out of the question with her wings visible. He left the farmhouse confident Amaya was grounded and safe.

  He’d never underestimate her again.

  Little good the realization did him now. Seeing her fall through the ceiling on top of a Spaun and the Cruor, he’d never been prouder. Then Malphas appeared and pride flipped to horror. Getting Amaya back was the only thing that mattered. Not the Cruor. Damn the world and everyone in it.

  Malphas. A blinding rage threatened to swallow him. He caught a glimpse of Gideon stepping into the room, rushing to the Demoni Lord’s side in the last seconds before the UnHallowed was pitched into the sun. Bane spun to punch the wall behind him again, harder. From the base to the ceiling, the drywall split and crown molding pelted his shoulders.

  Last Bane heard Gideon was in Hawaii enjoying his honeymoon with Dina, not Malphas’s sidekick. How the fuck did that happen? When did it happen? The list of questions he could compile about Gideon’s betrayal wouldn’t be answered anytime soon, so he let it drop. Suffice to say the traitor was dead the next time Bane laid eyes on him.

  Riél shoved himself away from the pillared archway and righted the dining table on its four legs, while Gadreel snatched up the scattered maps. Riél smoothed the map of Manhattan and pointed to all the red dots. “I searched all of his properties in the borough and the one abandoned textile factory in Albany. They’re all clear. Doesn’t mean he’s not moving her around and couldn’t return, but if he does, I will know it.”

  Meaning, he left an imprint of himself at the scene. Only the strongest of them could leave what equated to a shadow of themselves behind. Not their entire shadow, but just a sliver. Just enough of oneself to send up a flare. The process weakened the UnHallowed and there was a chance Riél would never retrieve the part he’d left as a sentinel.

  “I’ve done the same.” Gadreel volunteered from his safe position on the opposite side of the room. Bane tipped his head to both in gratitude.

  Gadreel eased closer, as was his way, and pointed to a map of San Francisco. “I’ve checked the two properties here, and his mansions on Nob Hill and Beverly Hills.”

  Shadows shifted next to Riél. Ioath stepped free, and halted. As always, the scent of brimstone clung to him. His gaze shifted between all three UnHallowed, then darted to the hole in the wall created by the dining table and Bane’s fist. “What have I missed?”

  “Did you find anything?” was Bane’s answer to Ioath’s question.

  Ioath shook his head. “No trace of him in London or his country estate.”

  “I am strong enough to lend my aid. Where would you like me to start?” Daghony leaned against the table.

  “Same here. What else can I help with?” Riél surprised everyone in the room. The self-absorbed sex-aholic didn’t have a philanthropic cell in his body. “What? I care, and a road trip won’t kill me. I can get what I need anywhere in the world.”

  What he needed was pussy, and plenty of it. That was Tahariél’s—formerly the Archangel of Purity—punishment.

  Riél folded his arms across his chest and rocked back and forth. “Plus, I think we’re approaching this the wrong way. Just because we’ve failed to locate Malphas, doesn’t mean we’ll fail to locate Gideon.”

  Gadreel nodded. “I’ve come to think the same.”

  “Since leaving us six months ago,” Riél continued, “Gideon has been on the grid. He’s lived his life as a human, with a human.”

  “Dina is not human,” Daghony corrected.

  “She is now,” Bane said. They all knew of the sacrifice Dina— a warrior in the Celestial Army—made when she gave Gideon her grace. By saving him, she doomed herself to live as a human when they risked everything to seal the Cruor.

  “What I’m getting at is, he has a cell phone. It’s traceable.”

  Bane contained his excitement. “How is that done?”

  Everyone shrugged. The UnHallowed had no use for phones.

  “I don’t know.” Riél smirked. “But I know a girl who does.”

  “What the fuck are you waiting for? Get on it, right—”

  The air around them shifted and a breeze circled the room, scattering papers, ruffling Dag’s and Riél’s feathers, even though all the windows were sealed tight because the sun hadn’t set. Bane freed the weapons strapped to his sides. The others followed suit and armed themselves. Together they faced the light coalescing in the arched doorway between the dining room and living room.

  The light changed in size and intensity. What started as a faint pink prick of light now had the mass of a dimensional pocket and threw off enough energy as a small sun, though without the power to incinerate.

  Bane shielded his eyes yet squinted through his fingers, and focused on the dimensional pocket forming. This was no surprise attack. The process didn’t take this long. The traveler wanted to make an entrance, and the UnHallowed had a greeting waiting for them. It had to be Malphas and his legion of Spaun using a dimensional pocket to breach the house without an invitation. Bane didn’t know that was possible, but so be it.

  The battle would begin and end here. This is where Malphas would die after he gave up Amaya’s location.

  Daghony and Ioath lined up on one side of Bane, Riél on the other. Gadreel hung back. He couldn’t engage and risk contact with any weapon. Bane understood yet regretted not having the former Archangel of Weapons joining the fight. Footsteps thudded behind him; Bane didn’t have to turn around to know Rimmon and Zed had joined the soirée.

  And what a little party this would be was his last thought as the light died in a brilliant flash, leaving Amaya.

  Not thinking, he stepped forward. Daghony threw his arm out and barred Bane’s way, and an arm—Zed or Rimmon’s, he couldn’t tell which—wrapped around his neck and hauled him back. His struggle to break free lasted between one blink and the next. Only that space of time was necessary for his vision to expand and see both the female he had to rescue, and the two enemies he had to kill.

  Chapter Six

  Sophie took her time, dragging the mop over the sticky floor behind the bar, aware she hadn’t made any progress in the ten minutes since she’d started. How could she when her focus wasn’t on the task, but on the argument on the other side of the bar.

  Not that she could hear the angry words.

  “She was dead on arrival.” Kush tossed back a drink.

  “How is that possible when she had gra—” Scarla was cut off before she, Kush, and Chay had shielded themselves behind a protective bubble. Seen, but not heard. This is what the trio usually did when they didn’t want anyone to hear their conversation—argument—especially in a packed bar.

  Currently, the establishment was closed and had been for the past two days. Not that Sophie knew why or who was DOA. Keep the human ig
norant was the normal M.O. They told her nothing, on the regular, and she pretended to know nothing.

  They’d shut her out enough times thinking just because she couldn’t hear, she didn’t know anything. When one sense is robbed, the others kick in. By no means would she qualify as an expert, but the lips don’t lie, not when you’re reading them. It happened gradually, she’d catch a word or two here and there, which escalated after watching a few YouTube videos.

  She resorted to lip reading, not to be nosy. She understood the UnHallowed had secrets. Living on the fringes of their world, Sophie knew enough to know she didn’t want to know any more. She had a burning desire to survive. Being privy to secrets she couldn’t possibly fathom placed her survival in the kind of jeopardy regular folk didn’t walk away from.

  Except…things weren’t adding up. Hadn’t been for a while. There were gaps in her memory, black holes had carved chunks of time. Incidences where she was at work, then she’d wake in her bed hours later—dressed in the same clothes she’d worn to her shift—with a headache the size of Texas. In addition, her dreams were filled with random conversations she felt should have happened outside of the REM state, conversations mostly between herself, Scarla, Kush, and Chay. Though, she did have random flickers of an argument in the parking lot between a female customer and Chay, Kush, and Daghony.

  Sophie dipped the mop back into the rolling bucket and squeezed out the excess water as Scarla stepped into Kush’s personal space and pointed a finger in his face. Sophie froze in a mixture of awe for Scarla’s gigantic lady balls, and fear. The former Archangel of Atonement wasn’t into forgiveness. Punishment had replaced atonement in his handbook on how to deal with humans.

  And though he treated Scarla like the sister he’d never have, Sophie didn’t trust him to not knock Scarla into the middle of next month. Scarla could probably take the punch and follow up with one of her own.

  If only I could be that badass.

  Absently, Sophie’s tongue glided over her two dental implants, remembering the day when a fist plowed her front teeth to the back of her throat. One slid too far and lodged in her windpipe. She’d almost died, but Ozzy didn’t want to spend another night in jail and performed the Heimlich. Disrespect is what got her teeth relocated. The memory of that particular offense had faded. Once she nuked his Hot Pocket too long and suffered a slap; it didn’t take much to piss Ozzy off.

 

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