Retribution, Devotion

by Kai Leakes

  Tears rimmed her eyes. She inwardly thanked the Most High for saving her mother and for Dr. Toure fighting fiercely for her mother’s safety. Both of them stood side by side near her and she blinked for a moment, taken aback. The scene of the pair almost reminded her of an old family picture of her mother and father taken in their youth. San had to shake her head as something clicked within her but it quickly faded. Her spirit whispered to her that something was there but now was not the time to inquire about it. Later for darn sure she intended on finding out what that spark was. Her spirit continued its calming whisper of immaculate wisdom, telling her that this family’s love was strengthened and cleansed, and that she needed all of it to bring him back.

  Kyo’s hands rested over Ryo’s heart then entwined with his own hands. Sanna gripped their hands while the knowledge within her mind made her absentmindedly nod as if talking to herself. Her soul was guiding her. Sanna watched her god sister lock eyes with her in amazement, then lifted her own glowing palms in the air. Swirls of yellow light danced over her creamy, tan skin and circled around Kyo’s extended painted stiletto-tipped nails.

  “Wow,” stumbled from Kyo’s lips. She closed her eyes and whispered her own prayer of thanks. She then leaned forward cautiously to lift the makeshift gauze that covered the man she had desired in her dreams. Her fingertips lightly ran over the provisional stitches she had sewn into Ryo’s smooth, muscled, and lightly scaled skin. Each stitch lit up with Kyo’s warm touch. Ryo gave a slight sigh then shifted into the power, his body returning to its human state. Kyo felt her god sister connect to cover him.

  A quick glance down, Sanna traced the improvised stitches Kyo had sewn over her own healing flesh. Her god sister was a true medic and had learned a hell of a lot when she was in medical school. Maybe Kyo’s short time in medical school really was for a reason. That reason being right now. As the old saying goes, everything happens for a reason. Sanna was just grateful for that, that reason was today. Lost in her thoughts, a surge of healing currents exited from her body, then attached with Kali’s, melding with Kyo.

  Kyo’s eyes flashed that of a Dragon’s and her golden wings unfurled from her back in sync. Her growl ripped through the air and filled the spirits of everyone around her. Her power fueled them with righteousness while she bowed forward, pressed her forehead against Ryo’s and kept her fingers flat against his wound. Her lips and shimmering tears traced his face. She found his dry and slightly parted lips then kissed him softly.

  Sanna could tell that Kyo suddenly and innately knew that he needed her. He needed whatever the growing power she now held within her. That desire had Kyo caved into submission and love for him. Kyo parted his lips with her tongue, wetting each dried edge. Her jade-painted metal-hard nails lovingly traced the chiseled sides of Ryo’s goatee-lined jaw as she inhaled him deeply. Sanna could see Kyo’s heart felt afire. It was so alive that it fluttered in a blaze. Kyo gasped then exhaled releasing a faint iridescent mist, which passed from her and into Ryo. The intensity of it, from what Sanna could tell, caused Kyo’s eyes to water with glowing, healing tears. Ancient prayers in Japanese, then Tibetan, flowed from Kyo’s lips. In that moment Ryo’s heart jumpstarted with a clutch from Kyo’s hands, making him jerk up and scream.

  His ‘no’ surrounded everyone and jettisoned outward to blaze any dark entity within close proximity into ash. Sanna stared in awe. His body collapsed back on the cold, cement room with the return of his breath. Sanna noticed Kyo narrowed her twinkling eyes then tilted her head from side to side with a light smile on her pretty face. Sanna knew her god sister was also blown away. Ryo’s wound was now completely healed. His caked-on and dripping blood washed away in the rain revealing slick, creamy, tattooed tan skin and clean, dark, low-cropped hair.

  Kyo’s mismatched jade and hazel eyes glanced around her family then up to the skies as she thanked the Most High for restoring life.

  “Dying is crazy! Damn. But knowledge is power.” Ryo coughed in the middle of a dry heave. Kyo gave a slight tired laugh and helped him sit up, her fingers running down his tattooed, toned back then up over the side of his dragon-tattooed neck.

  Sanna was delighted. Ryo was now sluggishly breathing, staring at everyone, dismayed. His searching oak slanted eyes intently settled on Kyo again while flickers of a million emotions made his irises glow varied colors of the spectrum.

  “I told you I’d find you, baby. Sorry it took being kidnapped to make it happen though.” With a flash of a tired, lopsided smile Ryo’s eyes fluttered in exhaustion then rested on the skies. His muttered thanks brought reality to the present.

  The sun was rising, which meant for Sanna that the Dragons would soon be stone. It was time to go. Besides, she was blacking out from exhaustion. The team quickly parted to scope the perimeter and she felt herself hoisted into Khamun’s arms.

  Chapter 3

  Khamun muttered commands to his tired team. Pacing back and forth, he dropped to one knee to reach down to pick Sanna up with ease. Though she was thick in all the right places, as he liked her vivacious body to be, she was not heavy at all. For him, she felt like a pile of pillows. He noticed how her buttery skin seemed to command the attention of the rising sun’s rays. Each beam appeared to caress her skin. As if on cue, there went his mind, distracting him from what had happened on the roof and dictating that he focus on where he should kiss her next time they were alone. It made his body tighten in need, desire, and love, regardless of the fatigue that was taking over his own senses. He needed to get everyone out of here ASAP, before his and San’s Protectors were vulnerable to attack from Cursed stragglers.

  “Sun is about to rise, we need to get our Gargoyles to safety. Do a quick body check over the whole team for me, Nox, bro,” Khamun casually reminded everyone.

  Lenox tapped his Bluetooth ear bud. Several long strides had him moving across the rooftop, speaking with various Nephilim team members who had come to help. The man paced back and forth with a frown forming across his face while he also gave orders and initiated a quick extraction. Khamun could appreciate that. His brother was about business, no need to question a thing.

  Dr. Eammon, who had come to act as an extra hand with his street team, was adjacent to Khamun. He additionally was taking the time to pull out his iPad in sync, showing everyone the streets of Chicago. “Streets are clear and the Chicago team’s sweep was a success. Whatever demons were still lurking have been disposed of and any pedestrians who were around were hit with the Slayer Runes. Clearing out is authorized, young man.”

  In his Nephilim culture, Elders deserved the utmost respect, especially seasoned warriors such as Dr. Eammon. While his Elder spoke, Khamun noticed the seriousness in the male’s dark eyes. The minimal gray sprinkled at his temple, full goatee, and low-dreaded afro seemed to have spread after the battle. From what the good doctor explained, he understood that his team and every Nephilim solider who was securing the block needed to depart before the human population became alert to their presence. This had to happen before any protection runes depleted themselves.

  Dr. Eammon held an iPad out for him to check out. Khamun studied the many different street cameras on display for him. The pads of his long fingers were his mouse, sliding them across the screen to see different angles of the city. Maps displayed before him, outlining human sectors, Nephilim sectors, known demon dens, and blended sectors of the city.

  Images before him had him frowning, and then idly scratching the side of his beard-covered jaw. Various exit routes in his mind helped him decide which would work better. In confidence, his amber-honey eyes naturally fell upon Sanna. He watched in concern, steadily observing her breathing and slight occasional movements to see if she was okay. Her usually naturally thick-coiled hair was now a wet messy and curly mass that spilled over his arms. Some of it splayed over her shoulders and breasts as well as covered half of her face. This woman had taken him from hell and back to the light in one swift move of her almost death.

  He still wasn�
��t prepared with how deeply she had changed his life. From only watching her as he matured in life, to interjecting occasionally to protect her from the demons that seemed attracted to her like a moth to a flame, to later learning that she was the key to the future of the Nephilim race, he was forever grateful to the Most High for inserting her into his life. A part of him echoed in his mind, whispering, again, and you will protect her from those who will always want her for being who she is. His people were always trained to listen to that inner voice. The echo of the spirit was usually associated with residual memories of past lives that a Nephilim had lived. Accepting, he held that information to heart and noticed that blood stained Sanna’s clothes. He had some choice words to give her but, right now, all he could do was watch her.

  Sanna turned her face upward to look at him with droopy, hooded eyes. She made his heart stop with a glance. His spirit and heart spoke to her. He could tell she wanted to soothe him from his worry, but right now, she could not; she was too weak. Lashes fluttered slowly before him, fighting to stay open, allowing him to perceive that her body was shutting down on her again. Tonight was a long, soul-wrenching event. Plain and simple, everyone needed a moment to digest what just went down and rest.

  “Let’s roll out,” Khamun ordered. Wings unfurled from his back to levitate him in the air. The team’s mental link opened. He utilized the Bluetooth to address other Nephilim fighters. Exit routes were ushered but he quickly changed them for a faster departure plan.

  His body felt electrified causing his wings to span out to cloak the sky. The feel of his locks lifting in the night air, his aura illuminating, projected a spark of the divine for hope in dark times. Tongue flicking over his lips, Khamun used one hand to pull his torn black hood over his head with his power. He bowed his head. His eyes flickered in their incandescent honey hue and he whispered a Transition spell. He used the last bit of energy to send everyone home instead of using the cars. A simple rooftop that was home to a secret battle was now empty with the rising sun.

  Anger took a grip of his body. His abs constricted. His hands shook. They fisted by his side and he closed his eyes trying to calm his simmering fury. She was reckless, too new to be in the middle of a battle.

  Listen to your gut was what his father always taught him. Did he? No.

  He should have forced her to stay at the compound, but no, the Oracle in her called to him, voiced to him that it was time, so he obliged. He was an idiot. His eyes grazed over the women in his arms, his soul mate. She lay quiet sleeping against him, lashes fluttering from time to time with dreams. He wanted to reach out and shake her, literally. Just stand her up on her feet, rest his hands on her shoulders, and shake her until sense slammed into her mind. Then he wanted to kiss her. Tongue her down so intensely that the sweet, intoxicating scent of her arousal would make them both fall back into their bed into a heated mating.

  The idea of losing her literally tore a piece from his core. He had underestimated how battle-wounded she was. As they all shifted through the Transition spell, Khamun saw how her body lit up with beacons that outlined her every wound she was trying to naturally heal. Because of it, he was now seconds away in going to pay his dear cousin another visit and finish what was started. His love for his cousin Marco wasn’t going to stop her death by his hands this time, had he lost Sanna.

  Wrath bubbled within Khamun’s spirit as he prayed on it. He remembered and old proverb that was ingrained in his mind from his past training in Italy with a true Moorish Disciple that, “to him who watches, everything is revealed.” Thinking about everything that had recently happened, he definitely knew that was truth. He had watched and he had learned hell of a lot, so much so that it had changed his life.

  Khamun quietly continued studying Sanna’s resting face. Her gentle face made his memories take him to the moment when she was just a Guide, and he her Guardian Angel. Back then, he would talk to her through her sleep. Connecting to her spirit to calm her fears, anxiety, and sadness, or to let her share the treasures of her life with him through talking in her sleep, it brought him peace. It made him fall in love with her.

  His fingertips brushed over her temples. The subtle movement of him bowing his head to murmur softly to her spirit, connecting to her, caused his locks to spill onto her shoulder. Sparks of soft light danced behind his closed eyelids, intensifying with each breath he took and causing him to shudder. This was different. Before it was a gentle binding, but now it was fierce, strong, and passionate. Kinetic. Muscled cords in his back suddenly tightened. A familiar tension in his spinal column made his shoulders bow forward then ripple in response. He knew his wings were threatening to unfurl, even as his incisors descended.

  “Damn you were reckless, my heart,” he huskily responded while her body curled into his warmth. A drowsy smile played across her soft features in her rest, he noticed.

  “For you, I will be reckless. For my family I will risk all,” she breathed, more like moaned, while shifting in her sleep. The delicate curve of her knee slid between his own solid thighs causing his mind to waver into erotic desire. Even though she was asleep, she is wrong for that, he thought. His lover was seducing him and shit was throwing him off task. He leaned in against her temple with a gentle press of his lips. His light brush had him experiencing her silky skin as if it were the first time.

  “For you I would do the same. For my family I would sacrifice my all but you lie in my arms battered and bruised. I praise the Most High for covering you in protection and healing you before I got the chance to see the stomach wound because, Sanna, you were reckless,” he sensually whispered against her neck.

  He felt himself grip her tight in constrained frustration and protection, shifting her into his body. A slight twitch of the corners of her mouth dropping into a frown while she slept caused him to shake his head in amusement. Her flawless almond skin furrowed in upset against her brow. Khamun could not stop himself from softly chuckling at the sight of her. To him she was the classic epitome of beauty and traces of “around the way” girl. With that of Dorothy Dandridge and Jill Scott, he had heard his mother say. However, to him, she was simply Sanna Steele and his. The pad of his thumb softly brushed over her plush lower lip, until he used his own mouth to trace them with another soft kiss. She tasted like whipped cream, honey, and strawberries entwined into her familiar sparking essence.

  They were soul connected. He knew this without a doubt, especially with that kiss. The Guardian bonding should not have been this intense, yet it was. It was humbly intoxicating.

  “You were, baby. Why even deny it.” Khamun continued to observe her from beneath his hooded lashes. He felt her try to wake but she only shifted against him to slip deeper into the calming, healing slumber he gave off.

  “Protect you . . . I was . . .” She yawned then snuggled closer. Her slim fingers slid through the strains of his locks to lace against each ropy lock.

  “Trying to protect . . .” she sleepily exhaled.

  He gave up. She didn’t understand his worry about it, so he had to let it go, but he knew she could not do that again ever. It was time to move up training, so she could learn from him and defend herself better if she was to run headlong into battle.

  He slowly dissolved his mental link, instantly feeling it reinforce while she shifted up against his body, cupping his face. He watched her head tilt to the side. Soft black crinkled curls fell around her oval face. A curling lone black strand caressed her perfectly plump lips while her long lashes fluttered slowly awake. White sheets slid away from her body in a fluid motion. He could not keep his eyes from trailing down to glimpse her buttery breasts in his shirt. Her typically chocolate rich eyes were now an opulent amber hue with their luminance.

  “If I lose you, I would sacrifice my all to save you. That is why I did what I did. For you. For them. You know what this feels like, so I know how you are feeling. I’ll be careful. For you. I promise,” he heard her lightheartedly say.

  Her hands reached up briefly t
o cup his hard jaw before dropping while she fell back into her sleeping position.

  The simple intimacy. The power in that touch made Khamun blink in slight awe and appraisal before muttering, “Shit.”

  With just a touch, he felt ready to peel away from his mortal flesh to settle into her body within his angelic form. Sweat slightly brushed his brow from the desire that was flushed throughout his body. A cooling calm settled over him once his beloved’s link dissolved. Leaving him in a state of comfort and fading embrace from her psyche. He shakily exhaled slowly, lost in his mental reflections. She was powerful, his woman, his soon-to-be wife, and the Oracle. Damn she is powerful. Their connection alone made his semi-relaxed shaft harder than diamonds.

  Khamun’s Adam’s apple worked up and down with each swallow he tried to take in, fighting to gain some control over his aching body. He needed to chill out. As a result, he shifted out of the bed, and adjusted himself. Thoughts of his love were combating his logic. He turned to observe her beautiful, plush body outline the sheets of his bed. Sensual hunger had him never getting enough of drinking up her image. Maybe I could just kiss her thighs and get a slight taste of her while she rests. Take my time to just give her a little pleasure and let me feed a little from her caramel essence. Maybe?

  Ever since the first time he had laid his eyes on her, he could never stop watching her, wanting her; however, right now he wanted her badly in the most carnal way. However, in the same breath, he needed her to heal and rest. He could smell the fresh application of healing salves his mother had made for the few open wounds she had. The intense sweet aroma had his mouth watering. He could almost taste the blood that seeped into the bandages that covered her.