Hope For More (Trinity Book 3)

by Devin Fontaine

  “Oh hey, Faith. I didn’t see you,” she chirped.

  Hope shuffled over to Faith, still trying, and failing, to keep the umbrella over Thomas, and gave her friend a hug. “You look tired,” Hope said to the obviously distressed sorceress. Faith’s entire body trembled and she looked even paler than before, which he hadn’t believed possible. Tiny beads of moisture dotted her hairline. It must needs be sweat, as Faith was still tucked under the overhang, protected from the downpour. She was nervous, and far from stupid. Faith knew something must needs be wrong if Dante sent Jack.

  “Yeah, I-I think I might be coming down with something.” The lie slipped easily from Faith and Thomas couldn’t stop his brows from winging up.

  “Oh.” Hope cringed back, afraid of catching Faith’s imaginary illness.

  “Have fun at dinner.” Smooth. Faith simultaneously dismissed Hope whilst encouraging her to leave.

  Thank you, Thomas mouthed when Hope wasn’t looking.

  During the exchange, Jack never stopped staring daggers into the side of Hope’s head. If Thomas didn’t get her away, and soon, the wraith would take matters into his own hands. Should he try anything, there’d be an almighty fight, because no fucking way was Thomas letting the wraith touch a single hair on Hope’s precious head.

  “Let’s go,” he said to Hope. Her gaze flicked between the angel clad in military black, guns strapped all over his enormous body, and the good-looking wraith that had a white-knuckled grip on Faith’s elbow.

  “Umm, is everything okay?” Hope asked no one in particular.

  “It’s fine,” Thomas snapped. “Perfect. My car is right over there.” He pointed toward the lot, nice and far from the threesome.

  Hope turned to Faith, her brows pinched. “You good?”

  Once again, Thomas must needs give Faith credit. She managed not only to smile, but to make it convincing. “I’m great.” She pointed to the fallen angel. “This is Ronin, Dante’s driver slash bodyguard. He’s picking me up from work today.” Hope gave R.—Ronin—Kearney a watery smile. “And you remember Jack.” She tipped her head toward the wraith and Hope nodded. “Well, we’re meeting Dante out and don’t want to be late, so…” Jack went along with the fib and tugged Faith into the pouring rain, moving her in the opposite direction of where Thomas parked his car.

  “Oh. Okay,” Hope said, sounding confused. “I guess I’ll call you tomorrow?”

  “Sure.” Faith quickly agreed.

  By the Fates, come on, Hope!

  This entire exchange was so fucking stressful. Thomas really must needs get Hope out of here. Not only so Faith could dematerialize and get to safety, but because the hairs on the back of Thomas’s neck refused to go down and the icy feeling that trickled down his spine wasn’t caused by the rain or the wraith. Jack and Ronin were also growing edgy. The angel’s eyes were constantly on the move, scanning, studying, assessing the lot for danger. Fates, it made Thomas nervous just watching him.

  Finally, Faith, Jack, and Ronin moved in one direction, whilst Hope and Thomas went in the other. Yellow umbrella covering one shoulder, Thomas took less than two steps when something in the air changed and he felt a familiar shift in energy. The series of events that followed happened so fast, he had no time to react. First, the fallen angel let out a shout so loud it vibrated in Thomas’s chest. Next, the prickling, stinging sensation of someone tapping into the aether hit him with a jolt, and he caught the scent of ozone.

  “No!” Hope screamed and her body collided with Thomas’s. Even though she was small, he wasn’t expecting the hit and it sent him sprawling to the pavement. When Hope shoved him in the side, Thomas’s attention had been focused on locating the newcomer he felt materialize, the one who tapped the aether. Arms flailing, he tipped over and hit the ground right as a thick, sickening gurgle bubbled up close by, barely audible over the hammering rain. Thomas’s skull whacked against the asphalt and his teeth clacked together. Black and white spots blurred in his field of vision, but his ears worked perfectly. As clear as day, he heard Faith’s scream from across the parking lot.

  “Oh my God! No!”

  “Faith, don’t!” Thomas recognized Jack as he shouted at Faith, and his voice conveyed more fear than Thomas believed the wraith capable of feeling.

  The angel roared, which was followed by a loud, horrifying shriek, then a sickening thud. Blinking back the spots from the whack to his head, Thomas focused on the wavy ground around him. Mere inches from his face lay the djinn, eyes glassy as they rolled to look at him. Blood trickled from the corner of its mouth, quickly washed away in a watery red river by the torrents of rain.

  “Don’t, Jack. Please,” Faith sobbed.

  “I’m sorry, Faith,” Thomas heard Jack say. The air shifted again and he knew Jack dematerialized, taking Faith with him.

  The djinn blinked and groaned and Thomas saw Ronin turn it face down and straddle it. He yanked its arms behind its back and fastened its wrists with enchanted handcuffs. World spinning, Thomas planted a hand in a puddle and shoved himself upright. A wave of nausea had him swallowing repeatedly. Fuck, he must needs have hit his head hard. Fingers probing, he checked his scalp for blood, thought it was likely if there had been any it washed away already. All he found was a large, tender lump.

  “What happened?” Thomas turned to the angel.

  Ronin stood and faced Thomas. His chest heaved and though Thomas knew the male was angry, his furious expression slipped away. “The djinn appeared and attempted to attack Faith.” Ronin shook his head, water flinging everywhere, before he continued. Jaw clenched, his dark eyes shone with… something. “Your human shouldn’t have interfered. I had it under control.”

  “My human?” Dazed, Thomas rapidly blinked to get his eyes to focus and rubbed his temples. “You mean Hope?”

  “I’m sorry,” Ronin said, then he hefted the bound djinn over his shoulder and dematerialized.

  “What?” Alone in the parking lot, the rain beginning to ebb, Thomas glanced around. Out of the corner of his wobbly gaze, he spotted a blurry blotch of bright yellow. Hope. Oh fuck. Thomas inhaled and his heart clenched so tight it felt like a knife had been buried directly in the center of the thumping muscle. A single word slipped out of his mouth. “No.”

  Ignoring the nausea and bile and spike of pain in his head, he crawled through puddles, bits of gravel digging into his knees, over to where she lay. “Hope!” Thomas shook her arm and froze when she flopped to her back, limbs loose like a rag doll. “Oh Fates.” His voice cracked. “Wake up, baby, you’re scaring me.” A sob tore from his throat as he gathered Hope in his arms. “No, no, no, no, no. Don’t do this to me. I can’t….” Her head lolled back, revealing her throat and Thomas cried out. What was once a supple column of creamy skin had been completely torn out, four long gashes from the djinn’s claws visible at the edges of the wound. He choked and gasped, unable to breathe.

  “This can’t be happening.” Thomas heaved and sobbed as he pulled the lifeless body close. The rain had stopped, and Thomas cared not that her blood soaked into his wet clothes. “Come on baby.” He gently caressed her cheek. “Talk to me, Hope. Baby. We have so much more to do together. You have to wake up.” His voice hitched and his face was damp. Not with rain, but salty tears.

  “Thomas…” A hand touched his shoulder, but he flinched and shook his head. The wraith was back.

  “No! She can’t be gone. It’s not possible. It doesn’t end this way!”

  Through tear-filled eyes, he stared down at Hope’s sweet face, a face he’d stared into whilst in the throes of passion, or whilst listening to one of her silly stories from work. Gone was the lovely flush of color on her cheeks and the heavy-lidded stare she wore as they made love. Now her eyes were dull and her lips nearly white. Thomas ran his fingers over the bow of her upper lip and his breath caught on a heart-rending sob. Such beautiful lips. Lips he would never have the pleasure of kissing again. Eyes that would never light up when he entered the room. Eyes that wo
uld never again grow heavy with desire.

  “Hope!” He wailed, his entire soul in agony, the green of his life-force shrinking as he clutched her body to his chest. “Hope, don’t you dare leave me.”

  Jack squeezed his hand harder on Thomas’s shoulder and gently tugged in an attempt to separate him from the love of his existence.

  “I can’t,” he sobbed. “I can’t let her go. I won’t. She’s been through so much. Jack, this can’t… It’s not how it’s supposed to end.” He stared up at the wraith, surprised to see Jack’s face crumpled in sympathy. “We’re supposed to be together. I know it in my soul. This is wrong.” His gaze returned to Hope and then, as loud and visible as if a glass vase fell onto a tile floor, his heart shattered into a thousand pieces, and the shards scattered in the light breeze. “It’s not right.” Thomas broke down, crying as he held her for what would be the last time.

  His Hope was gone.

  “I’m so sorry,” Jack whispered.

  Soon they were surrounded. Police, EMTs, coworkers from the courthouse—anyone and everyone except the one person he wanted to see. The one currently being lifted off the wet pavement onto a stretcher whilst zipped in a black body bag. In shock, Thomas stumbled and dropped onto the bumper of an ambulance, his entire being numb from the inside out.

  “Thomas. Hey.” Justice sat next to him and put a hand on Thomas’s leg. “I’m so sorry. I know you really cared about her.”

  “Cared,” he repeated with no emotion. “I didn’t care about her.” Everything that had been numb, feelings he had held back broke free. His voice rose in pitch and volume until Thomas was shouting himself hoarse. “I didn’t just care about her. I fucking loved her! She loved me. She is, was,” he choked and faltered. “She was everything.”

  Joseph, the city coroner, directed his assistants to roll the stretcher into the back of his black van. On wobbly legs, Thomas staggered over, tripping several times on his own feet. He didn’t give a single shit how he looked or what anyone thought. With a final push of strength, he threw himself over Hope’s body and hugged the black vinyl.

  “I love you, baby. I’m so sorry. I’m…” Scratchy and faint, his voice failed and all he could do was cry silent tears. Eventually, Justice’s strong hands pulled him off the stretcher and emotionally hollow, Thomas’s knees gave out. Without his co-worker holding him up, he would have collapsed to the ground.

  “I’m so sorry,” Justice kept murmuring over and over.

  Thomas watched as they loaded Hope up and the doors of the coroner’s van slammed shut. It felt as if his heart, no… his soul was trapped in there with her. Zipped up in a black bag, lifeless and cold.

  Hope wasn’t the only one who died that day and Thomas knew nothing from that moment on would ever be the same. The breeze kicked up a notch and a bright yellow umbrella rolled across the parking lot. Thomas watched it whirl in circles and wished he could go in the van right along with her, because if Hope were dead, he had no reason to exist.

  CHAPTER 16

  “H e looks like shit warmed over.”

  “What do you want me to say, Davin? The female he loved died. We’re about to go to her funeral. Honestly, who gives a shit about how he looks?” Justice hissed.

  They didn’t know Thomas heard every word they said. Well, they knew, they just didn’t know he wasn’t in a walking coma and was actually listening. In the three days since the djinn appeared behind the courthouse to kidnap Faith—and as the others described, Hope threw herself in front of her friend to keep her safe—Thomas hadn’t uttered a single word.

  Pride and Justice, the males hardly friends, bickered whilst Thomas sat slumped over on his tiny sofa. Somehow, these two were tasked with delivering him to Hope’s graveside service. He was certain Lust was the one responsible for sending the Son of Pride, likely at their mates’ request. Since Dante himself refused to leave his penthouse or Faith’s side, he made certain Thomas had help to get him through what was sure to be a difficult day. Faith. Fates, she was probably devastated. Not only had her friend been killed whilst trying to save her, but because of the imminent threat to class nines, she couldn’t attend the funeral.

  “Hey buddy, it’s time to go,” Justice said. Mechanically, Thomas rose and zombie walked to the waiting car. He didn’t remember the ride to the cemetery. All he knew was he blinked and they had arrived. Then he found himself floating across lush grass whilst weaving around headstones. His babysitters directed him toward a tent, specially erected for the service. Hope’s service. That’s when Thomas caught sight of the open grave and a gleaming wood casket. He buckled over, hands over his midsection as reality kicked him in the solar plexus.

  Oh Fates. His legs trembled and he wasn’t sure he could do this. A strong hand wrapped around his upper arm and yanked him upright. Justice, one of the ADA’s, got right in Thomas’s face, gray-green stare boring into him from behind the saint’s black-framed glasses.

  “Thomas, you must needs get a hold of yourself. You hear me?”

  “I-I can’t.” The invisible band he wore around his chest for the last three days constricted and he could hardly breathe. “I don’t…” Tears blurred his vision.

  “Hey,” Justice snapped. Thomas blinked away the moisture and startled at the harsh expression on Justice’s face. “You must needs be strong, my friend. For Hope. Fall apart later. Right now, you must needs be the hard assed, take no prisoners district attorney. Get your shit together and later, I’ll take you out and we can drink until you pass the fuck out, okay?”

  Of course, Justice was right. Hope wouldn’t want Thomas to sob and fling his body over her coffin whilst wishing himself dead, too. Even though the thought crossed his mind a time or ten. He did her no honor if he couldn’t refrain from being over-emotional during the service. If nothing else, Hope deserved respect for her sacrifice. A sacrifice she need not make because the intended victim, the one she threw her body in front of, was immortal. Only, Hope didn’t know that. She knew nothing of immortals. Thomas was the one who dragged her into his world.

  It was his fault she died.

  Fuck. He took a deep breath and shoved everything, all the pain, the heartbreak, the crushing sense of loss, down deep inside his dull, lifeless core. Like Justice said, there would be plenty of time to wallow. First, he must needs get through the service.

  “Okay.” He stood up straight and wiped his face. “I’m ready.”

  No, I’m not. Not by a long shot. And I never shall be again.

  “THAT INCOMPETENT PIECE of worthless filth Thánatos not only failed the mission, but got caught by angels before I could claim the class nine sorceress,” Joshua growled. Abaddon kept a wary eye on him as he stalked back and forth in his office whilst ranting. “That bastard fallen angel shall pay for ruining everything. Fucking djinns. A new djinn, another bloody fucking disaster. No more!” Joshua whipped his head in Abaddon’s direction and sneered. “Get rid of every last Hellhound. Once Michael banishes Thánatos, the alpha will transform. I want those useless pieces of shit gone before the current alpha becomes the next djinn.” The Hellhounds were one of Joshua’s possessions. One of less than a handful he didn’t mind parting with.

  “Aye, my Prince.” Abaddon turned to leave.

  “Wait.” The daemon warrior spun back around for instructions. A slow grin spread across Joshua’s face. “Don’t kill them. Let the filthy dead mongrels loose across the city. If they aren’t in a pack, a new djinn won’t rise. This way, at least we get to have a little fun watching the Hounds shred their way through Michael’s precious humans.” He closed his eyes and imagined the chaos, two dozen fierce, snarling Hellhounds streaking through the streets, leaving death and destruction in their wake. “Let Michael deal with the disgusting beasts.” When Abaddon didn’t move and Joshua scowled. “What are you waiting for? Leave!”

  Abaddon took off, and fast. Good thing, because Joshua was itching for… something. With the other daemon gone, his mind went straight to his most recent a
cquisition. Again. He must needs see it. Touch it. The daemon within compelling every single cell of his being to go. To be with his most prized belonging. The pinnacle of what he coveted the most—except a class nine sorcerer, of course. Greed pulsed from Joshua’s bright yellow core as his daemon’s excitement grew.

  Unable to stop and ponder how wise it was to visit yet again, Joshua dematerialized to the mountains high above Eastlake Falls. The Angel river, which tumbled over a tall cliffs to wind its way through the city, came from a nearby spring. Along with the source of the river, when the glaciers retreated twelve thousand years ago they left behind a multitude of crevices and caves throughout the mountain range. Joshua rematerialized in one of the larger caves. It was dark, but being immortal, his sight quickly adjusted, and to him the interior of the cave was as bright as if the sun shone directly within the deep crevasse.

  From beneath a rock, Joshua removed a small wooden box inlaid with red and orange tiles made from semi-precious stones. Each one painstakingly set by master artisans, creating a stunning and elaborate sigil. Using the utmost care, Greed opened the box and as his heart thundered, so loud that to his ears it echoed throughout the cavern. He stared at the contents, enthralled.

  At first glance, his prize didn’t look like much. When he first acquired it, Joshua was certain that stultus Abaddon had made a grave error. That this pitiful item couldn’t possibly be that which he dispatched a team of daemons to find, that he traded favors for and bribed others for information as to its whereabouts. But the second he lay eyes upon it, Joshua knew it for what it was and his daemon shuddered in ecstasy at the rarity of the item he now possessed.

  Using the tip of a single finger, Greed reverently stroked the surface of the small black stone and quivered from the rush of power that zapped straight to his core. Fates, he desperately wished to hold the stone, feel its weight in his palm, but knew it would be a grave mistake to do so. When Abaddon presented it to Joshua, in truth, he did hold the stone in his bare hand. The very second his fingers wrapped around it, his eyes rolled back in his head and pleasure so intense tore through his being, that Joshua nearly came from the power that flowed from the enchanted object. He understood just how quickly one could be rendered mindless, turned mad and enslaved by the stone.