by JL Madore
She shook her head again and rolled her eyes. “Not what I meant. Yes, broody man, you are oh so pretty to look at. You know you are. What I was confused about is how Seth could possibly have gathered your clothes from the sex club and my bags from the racetrack. He got into the Navigator and we followed him all the way here.”
Shit. Danel’s mind stumbled over how to answer that one when he noticed a silhouette at the hanger door. “Hey, is that your father?”
Thankfully, that sidetracked the convo and Ronnie jumped out to give her old man a hug. “Daddy, you didn’t need to come all this way yourself. I’m capable of getting myself home.”
The silver-haired man brushed his hands over her hair, cupped her face, and then slid them down her arms. “You all right, kitten? Mr. Ambrose here assures me, six ways from Sunday, that the threat to you has been taken care of, but until the vote, I won’t take any chances.”
She kissed his cheek. “I’m good. I promise.”
He pulled her to his side and held out his hand. “I take it you’re the man I have to thank for her rescue? Let me get a look at you, son.”
Danel’s beast bristled, but he forced his shoulders to hang loose and his expression to remain relaxed. He did a little assessing of his own. Ronnie’s father was a fit, good-looking man, with a trimmed mustache and a well-tailored suit. He held himself proudly, shoulders back and his gaze clear and direct.
Danel regarded the proffered hand and held out his own, forcing the man to switch. After the greeting, Danel held up his stump. “Lost this one in the line of duty last year.”
Howton Hennington sized him up and seemed impressed. “What branch of the military are you boys with?”
Danel gave him the same rote response he’d given ten-thousand times. It rolled off his tongue so smoothly, no one ever questioned him anymore. “We’re part of an elite squad that no one talks about. Rest assured, we’re out there every night, keeping innocent citizens safe from all sorts of evil.”
Howton nodded. “I thank you for your sacrifice and your service, son. I also thank you and your team for my daughter’s safe return.”
His team. He glanced around. Yeah, they made a solid team. Zander and Kyrian had tried to keep things smooth for him. Seth and Phoenix had his back. And Hark, Brennus, and Bo were each worth their weight in gold. Funny how you lost perspective on that after a few thousand years.
“So, you’re headed out, then?” He eyed the plane being tended to behind them. Time for her to get gone. Yep, it wasn’t getting any easier standing next to her with the scent of shared sweat and sex smacking him in the face with every inhale.
Damn it. Get going. Wings in the air. Wheels up.
He tried to ignore every primal instinct surging in his blood. He needed distance. He needed to compartmentalize the past three days and lock that shit down.
Zander joined them, drew a deep breath, and threw him a visual ‘you’re a fucking idiot’ glare.
For once in his life, he wouldn’t argue with the man.
“Safe travels, Mr. Hennington.” Zander walked over to Ronnie and squeezed her arm. “Please let Austin know when you’re home and settled. She’s worried.”
Ronnie nodded. “I will. And thank you both for everything.”
Danel was pretty much vibrating on the balls of his feet, as Zander escorted Ronnie’s father toward the rolling steps positioned against the plane.
His beast raged against his hold. Get in the fucking plane. Up, up, and awaaaay you go.
Ronnie clasped his hand and kissed his knuckles. Damn, her skin. He doubled his hold on his animal side. “Are you all right, Broody? You seem on edge.”
On edge? He was over the edge, hanging above the chasm, clinging to a branch about to give. He wanted to kiss her so badly, he had to lock his knees to keep from bowling her over.
He cleared his throat and then moistened his dry lips.
Ronnie’s eyes followed the motion of his tongue. “I suppose we’re all a little on edge.”
The nerve in Danel’s eye started to twitch, bringing up clouded spots in his vision. A panic attack. Really? Shit, that hadn’t happened to him since he was a slave child in Susa. He closed his eyes and tried to calm the thundering rate of his heart.
“You should go.” His voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper. He tried to breathe. Tried to hold his molecules together while they threatened to shatter to pieces.
“Is that really what you want?” she asked.
“Yes.” If she didn’t get away from him now, he wouldn’t be able to hold his beast off. She’d get hurt. Maybe not today but it would happen. She deserved her time left to be safe and happy. “Get away from me, as far and as fast as you can.”
The hurt that flashed in her eyes broke his cold, dead heart. Ronnie jogged to the plane and he got his ass moving.
Zander stepped in front of him, blocking his way, chest-to-chest, while Seth gripped him by the arms from behind.
“Let her go,” Zander ordered. “You’ve got a Darkworld price on your head, remember? For her sake, as well as all of ours, my brother. Let. Her. Go.”
Ronnie accepted the blanket from the flight assistant and curled her sock feet under her. Staring out at the lights of the Toronto sprawl, she wondered why she loved this city so much. The weather was cold six months of the year, damp and chilly two months, and stiflingly hot another two months. That only left two months a year of warm and beautiful.
Georgia remained beautiful year-round, and she would be glad to warm herself to the marrow after such a cold farewell.
“Are you sure you’re well, kitten?” Her father adjusted the blanket over her legs. “You’re pale, sweetheart.”
She smiled. “It’s mid-February in Toronto, Daddy. No sun to work up a tan. I’m fine, really.”
“The hospital is only a fifteen-minute drive downtown from the airport. I’ve arranged a car to take us directly—”
“Daddy, no.” She blinked back tears as she stared out the portal window. “Don’t start us off like this, please. I’m not going to the hospital in the middle of the night for no reason. I already have an appointment in a few days.”
His worried gaze studied her, his blue eyes piercing. “Forgive me, but I think it’s best. Just to be sure.”
“Seriously, no. I’m going home to sleep all day. Believe it or not. I am actually the best judge of how I feel.”
Her father frowned, sighing as he threw up his hands. “Very well. But promise me you’ll let me know if anything changes.”
She nodded and closed her eyes. “Thank you, Daddy.”
In the loft dining room, Zander uncapped a bottle of his oldest Scotch and poured Danel a tumbler full. The men gathered around the long, pine table were in good spirits—and rightly so. Considering everything that had beaten them over the head the past months, they needed to take the win and catch their breath. He passed Danel the glass, and after pouring himself one, he slid the bottle to Kyrian on his left.
Danel was holding his own. He’d practically shoved that human onto her private plane and they’d all breathed a sigh of relief. The Persian knew the drill. The biggest rule-stickler of all of them, he did what needed to be done. The man may have been enticed, but his beast would never allow them to bond. The guy held onto grudges like no one else in history. And for once, that worked in Zander’s favor.
The shuffle in the hall made him smile. “Getcha ass in here, Ringo. Sit at our table, little brother.”
The kid bounded through the stained-glass doors and rushed to take a seat next to his blooded brother and idol, Danel. The room swallowed the kid up, but in a year or two, he’d transition into his Nephilim self and start to fill out.
Zander gestured for Phoenix to get Ringo a glass and they set him up to join the toast. Z lifted his glass and waited until everyone was set. “Welcome back, D. It’s been a tough stretch lately, but here you stand, vital and strong. We’re glad you’re home, my brother.”
The garrison lift
ed their glasses in unison and drank deep.
Ringo needed a couple runs at his but blinked past the burn and set his glass down empty. Good lad.
Z set his glass down and smiled down the table. “You ready to meet your sire, little brother?”
Ringo’s smile faded. “Do I have to?”
Zander shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “Nope. You don’t have to do shit. You’ve got a good year and then some before it’s a forced point. Duck out if you’re not up to it. We won’t let on that we’ve found you, and we won’t judge. Deal with your shit however you want.”
The kid nodded, thinking that over. In the end, he turned and looked at Danel for his take on things.
“Totally up to you,” Danel said, swirling the alcohol at the bottom of his tumbler. “But hit it head-on, and we’re here for you. There are other issues on the table. You’ll just be a blip on the screen cause they’ll all be pointing their beat sticks at me.”
“What if they want to move me or claim me early?”
“Not gonna happen,” Zander said. “You go nowhere until you’re ready. Hell, if you want to shove the Seraph training up their asses, you can stay with us and we’ll train you ourselves.”
Ringo nodded and took in the rest of the group. “Yeah?”
The brothers all nodded.
“Don’t look so worried, buddy,” Seth said. “As far as asshole sires go, you got the peacemaker. Gabriel’s decent.”
“Are ye studied up on your lineage, lad?” Brennus asked.
Ringo straightened as if he’d been called on in class. “Gabriel is the ruling prince of Cherubim—the angel of mercy and vengeance, resurrection and transformation, childbirth and death. He is the guardian watching over Heaven. And where Michael is the ruler of the army of the heavens, Gabriel is the strategist who orchestrates the troops.”
Danel pointed at the kid and got serious. “And though he’s your sire, he is not your father. Will never be. Doesn’t want to be. So, don’t hang hopes on warm and fuzzy. That shit just fucks with your head, got it? We are your family. We are your brothers, and we have your back.”
Ringo surveilled the room and they each let the kid see the truth in Danel’s words. After a moment, his focus got clear and he straightened in his seat. “Okay, let’s do it.”
Zander bumped his fist on the table, proud of the kid. “Okay, I’ll light things up and we can see how badly we disappointed the Choir this week.”
The guys kept the Scotch flowing while he stepped to the altar arranged along the buffet. He struck one of the long, hickory matches and sulfur flared.
“Lady Divinity, beloved mother, we honor you both with thought and deed. Please watch over our growing family and continue to vanquish darkness and evil from our lives.” Holding the burning wood over the wide white pillar, he lit the duel wicks.
He moved to the scarlet candle. “Michael, Ruler of the Choir’s army, we call on you.” Next, he lit the gold candle. “Auriel, Ruling Prince of Powers, we call on you.” The last candle he lit was blue. “Gabriel, Ruling Prince of the Cherubim, we call on you.”
With a shake of his wrist, he tossed the charred remnant of smoldering hickory into the copper bowl to extinguish.
He returned to the head of the table and reclaimed his drink. The room remained uncharacteristically quiet, all of them focused on the newest addition to their dysfunctional family. This was a major moment in Ringo’s transition from his human life to his future as a Nephilim.
The air charged with the impending arrival of their bosses, and Zander nodded. “You got this, kid. Let me do the talking unless I give you the nod. We clear?”
Ringo swallowed. “Crystal, Z.”
The three Archangels arrived, tall and tailored in their fancy white suits. Color danced over the walls and surfaces as light threw off them like prisms turning in the sun. Ringo watched with a calm reserve. Good lad. The kid was tight.
Michael arrived, jaw tight, his blond lengths slicked back. Next came Auriel, ebony-skinned and the fiercest looking of the Seven. Gabriel finished the trio, a misleading softness to his golden-brown eyes.
The three Ruling Princes glided along the window wall to the empty chairs. Michael held out his hand and the bottle of scotch flashed from the silver tray to his palm. He poured himself and his fellow Archangels three fingers of amber liquid and they took their seats.
Michael looked Ringo up and down and side-eyed Gabriel. “One of yours? How is he here?”
Zander took that as his cue.
“Ringo is a precog. He dreamed about us and when he saw Tanek’s snuff video on the internet, he tracked us down.” He would have laughed at their screwed-up faces if it hadn’t been Ringo’s wellbeing hanging in the midst.
“He shouldn’t possess awareness until his time of transition. There are protocols.”
Zander shook his head. “None needed. Things have been explained to him. He knows the stakes and he’s tight. We’ve handled things with his human family as well.”
“Still, he’ll have to come with us—”
“No offense, gentlemen, but that’s not happening. He’s ours, and we mean to keep it that way.”
“He’s not a pet, Zandros. He’s a warrior of the Choir.”
“No, he’s not. In less than two years, he’ll be a warrior of the Choir. For now, he’s our brother. End of.”
“There is no precedent for this.”
“Then there is no precedent against it. Look. Every garrison has eight members. We’re down one since Tanek’s death. As commander, I nominate Ringo to fill the roster. Yay or nay?”
The room filled with a booming round of Yay.
Michael didn’t look like he’d let it go, so Zander rocked on. “Danel is off-roster right now, so it’s three pairs on the street. D and Ringo can run things behind the scenes. We’ll get him up to speed on things. Xxan can start his Seraph training. And Drina can keep an eye on him too. This is my call, gentlemen, and I’ll take it all the way up to Milady to make it happen.”
Michael turned to Auriel and Gabriel. The other two looked rather bored with the whole discussion.
“Fine,” Gabriel said. “The boy is your responsibility.”
Fucking right he is, Zander thought. He dropped his chin in an attempt at deference. “Thank you.”
Michael refilled his glass and frowned. “So, what have you to report on this night?”
“Leviathans,” Zander said. “A shit-ton lot of them.”
Austin waited until the post-mortem with the Archangels was over and the meeting wound down before she knocked on the glass doors. Kyrian opened things up and took the cake platter from her hand. “What have you been up to, sweetheart?”
All the men rose as she followed him in. “Sit, boys. I thought a celebration dessert was in order.”
Phoenix joined her at the table, the clink and shuffle of plates rising from his hands. She handed him the serving utensils and he escorted her to sit with them.
“It’s a chocolate raspberry cake with coconut frosting. My Gran used to make it for special occasions. I thought Danel returning home safe qualified.”
“And Ringo’s seat at the table.” Danel scuffed his knuckles over their little brother’s spiked, ebony hair.
“We have our eighth man at the table again,” Zander said.
“Despite needing a booster seat, he’s a keeper,” Seth added.
They all laughed, ribbed Ringo, and let the stress of the past week dissolve. Austin thanked Lady Divinity for every moment as her boys divvied up the portions and made five minutes’ work of her evening’s efforts.
Once the cake vanished, the sugar high took effect, and the teasing insults and banter really started flying.
Danel took their jibes about his goatee in good spirits and when the target moved on to Brennus and his need for a haircut, he came and sat beside her.
By the look in Danel’s gaze, the warrior was either plum wore out or sadder than a coon dog that got left behind fro
m the hunt. “Are you all right, Danel? Is there anything I do for you?”
He scrubbed his hand over his face and sighed. “You didn’t happen to speak to Ronnie tonight, did you? Did she get back to Atlanta okay?”
She had, actually. Then, two of them had had a lengthy heart to heart on stubborn males who wouldn’t know what was good for them if it bit them in the butt. “She’s home and playing the hermit card for a few days, sleeping and loafing around, watching her favorite TV shows.”
He couldn’t hide the regret that strangled his gaze. And for the first time since she’d known him, he didn’t even try. “Good. That’s good, I guess.”
Danel hated to be touched and certainly not by a human, so she fought the urge to reach out to the man. “I wondered about her pet rats. Do you know how often she fed them or what’s involved in taking care of them? I’ll have to bring them here, or have Drina look in on them at the racetrack.”
He sighed, his smile sad. “I’ll take care of them. And if it’s all right, I’d like to stay there for a while. My apartment is compromised, and this place is . . . well, I need a bit of a timeout, if that makes sense.”
She handed Phoenix her dirty plate. “It makes perfect sense. And yes, your room is for you to use as much and as often as you like. We built that house to give everyone a home.”
Danel took her hand and squeezed it. “The cake was delicious and very considerate. I . . . uh, haven’t been the kindest male to you, Austin. You deserved better.”
She blinked as the sullen warrior turned and made a hasty retreat from the room.
Zander filled the seat beside her in the next heartbeat. He kissed her, his lips a delicious blend of berries and chocolate. He tipped his head to gesture to Danel walking away. “What was that about?”
“I have an idea.”
“Annnnd?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Not gonna jinx it.”
Danel left the door to the cage open and took Sam and Dean back to his bed. The three of them were having a pity party, getting drunk and missing Ronnie together. To commemorate the occasion, they had pizza—deep dish, not frozen—with ranch dip. His liquid intake came from an internet recipe called Get This Shit Goin’, which consisted of sports drink watered down with tequila and vodka. And for the entertainment portion of the evening, they had thirteen seasons of Supernatural to watch on Netflix.