Forcing himself to focus so he could maybe, possibly, get out of there without spending the rest of his life in a prison cell, Ethan looked back to the dead guy two feet in front of him. The guy in the nice boots stepped over his victim and slowly walked to Ethan’s backpack.
Ethan caught movement out of his good eye of sapphire eyes positioning the Glock in front of her, and then glanced back as the backpack fell to the floor, empty.
“Shit!” the woman swore under her breath, but her curse obviously wasn’t loud enough for the killer to hear, because he walked across the room and practically fell into a chair, seemingly exhausted and uncaring that he was still in a room where he had murdered two people.
Ethan and the female watched closely as the guy’s head fell between his knees, and then he covered his face with his hands and let out a vein-popping scream that could wake the dead. After several minutes of the guy doing nothing but breathing heavy, Ethan watched him slump sideways in the chair and close his eyes.
After a few uncomfortable minutes of silence ticked by without the guy so much as swallowing, Ethan risked a chance at speaking. “I’m getting out of here,” he said, and then moved to leave the way he had come.
“Wait.” She grabbed his arm. “You hear that?”
Ethan stopped and listened, realizing that heavy feet pounded the floor of the corridor outside the open door, and, even though he wasn’t a gambling man, he would almost bet money the people in those boots were heading straight for them. “Yeah, I do. It’s probably the rest of the DEA coming to throw me in a cell for the rest of my life. I’m not staying to find out! If you’re gonna shoot me, then shoot me, but you’ll be the one taking the chance that ‘Serial Killer of the Year’ over there doesn’t wake up when you squeeze that trigger.”
She shook her head. “They don’t know I’m here—”
He shot her a disbelieving glance. “What do you mean they don’t know you’re here? Bullshit! I’m out.” He started to move again, and then realized the volume of soles on floor was too loud. They were too damn close. He wouldn’t be able to get away if he made his move now. Double shit!
“Damn it!” He growled and pounded his fist on the carpet, then just let his forehead fall to the soft floor covering. He huffed, and then looked up at the guy that had just waltzed into the room, murdered two grown men, stole whatever was in the backpack and passed out in the chair. It just didn’t make any sense, he thought.
A comforting hand rested on his forearm and he glared over at her. “I can’t go to prison. My fa—” He cut his own words short as three more pairs of boots, all different in style, but all exceeding his price range for footwear, walked over the broken-down door of the suite and into the room.
Ethan didn’t move.
“Two this time, eh? I guess one of us needs to stay with him at all times,” one of the males said as he tossed the door off the bald guy as if it weighed no more than cardboard.
“Not me. Bastard has been a grizzly ever since he saved the angel and she went back to Heaven. I volunteer Lameria. She won’t care to lay his ass out if he gets physical. Or maybe that is exactly what he needs: someone to lay him. Certainly helps me control my urge when I feel like killing humans,” male number two stated, and then started laughing. His hands were all of a sudden in Ethan’s view, picking Italian Guy up off the carpet.
“Shut it, Fallis,” the third guy said. “He’s going through a tough time right now and nobody knows what the fuck is going on. It could be you or any of us next. We need to get this figured out, and we need to do it soon; these two make five in four days,” he said as he picked the guy up from the chair and effortlessly tossed him over his shoulder. “Poor bastard doesn’t remember a damn thing about any of it, either. C’mon, let’s get those two in the basement with the others and this one in the bed, far away from any trouble… or humans.”
“It figures I would get stuck carrying the big one.”
“It’s ’cause you’re the smallest and have more to prove, Damien,” Fallis retorted with a chuckle.
“I don’t have to prove anything to anybody. I know I’m good. And you’re only upset because, even though I’m smaller, you’ve yet to beat me at any strength contest.”
“Home!” the biggest male bellowed, and the two other males vanished from the room with their baggage. “Damn!” he growled, and stood there a moment longer with the killer on his shoulder, and then he just disappeared, too.
Ethan looked over at the female, expression somber. “No bodies, no product, no evidence, no suspect; case closed. I’m getting the hell out of here before they realize they dropped their keys or something and decide to come back.”
“Wait,” she said, but Ethan did not. He scooted out from under the bed and hurried out of the room.
Chapter 4
Thoros
Thoros sat up quickly and looked around his bedchambers for any threat. He couldn’t remember anything about the night before or how he had managed to end up in his bed, stripped of everything.
Have I brought a female home? Sniffing the air around him let him know that nobody had shared his bed, though he could sense there was someone outside his door. His hands came up to cover his face and he rubbed at the fresh stubble, dreading the conversation that was about to happen. “Christ,” he muttered to himself, “what the hell did I do this time that I need a freaking babysitter now?”
He wanted to shout at whoever it was and tell him to mind his own damn business, but doing that wouldn’t fix anything and, he had to admit to himself, he was beginning to get really freaked out by the recent events.
He huffed as he pulled the sheet over his midsection. “Get in here,” he barked, startling Tooka awake from her bed in the corner. She flew over to him and snuggled under his armpit, as if his harsh words had frightened her.
Thoros smiled as he petted the top of her head, and then pulled her in for a brief hug. “It’s okay, girl. You sleep well?” He chuckled as she rattled on in her language about a fire-breathing dragon in a dream she’d had, all the while enhancing the dramatic effects with the use of her little hands and wings. To a human, the little gargoyle-like animal’s speech would have only sounded like gibberish, but to five of the eight forgiven demons living in the house, she sounded like one of them.
Only those of them that had previously been royalty under Lucifer had come to Earth still possessing their powers. Thoros supposed Lucifer allowed them to keep their magic because he thought they would wreak havoc on the innocent. Turned out that he was the only one doing that, and, surprisingly, it had nothing to do with the power of lust Lucifer had gifted him with.
A few moments passed and the handle turned, letting in a very pretty Phoebe. Her features still held the scars of her sins, but Thoros didn’t see them when he looked at her. To him, they only made her look more beautiful. He cursed under his breath. The boys had set her outside his room because they knew she was the only one of them, besides Tooka, that he wouldn’t yell at.
“How many?”
“I’m sorry?” Phoebe asked, confusion creasing deep lines on her forehead.
“How many did I murder last night?” he choked out.
“Oh… two,” she responded in little more than a whisper.
“Jesus,” he said, and then threw the cover off his lap and started for the bathroom. He heard the quick intake of breath and regretted making her feel uncomfortable around his immodesty, but the damage was already done and an apology wouldn’t help erase the image from her memory. “Sorry,” he muttered anyway, and then slammed the door behind him and turned the handle to make the shower come on. “Tell Baddon to get everyone together in ten minutes,” he shouted through the closed door. “We are having a family meeting.”
***
It ended up being more like twenty-five minutes before Thoros left his room and started down the grand staircase of the mansion. His thoughts had drifted to Josselyn, as they always did when he was alone—or when he wasn’t alone—and a
llowed his mind to wander. The hot spray of water coming from the showerhead and the steam in the room, along with the fact that he was naked, made him completely vulnerable and open for sweet torture from the memory of her.
He had caught himself fantasizing that she was there with him again, and he’d had to immediately turn the water to cold. Regardless of how much he wanted the female, that always seemed to chase away any thoughts of her, at least until he could dry off and throw on some clothes. Then he always rushed to find someone or something to distract him. He agreed with himself that it was better than locking himself in his bedchamber, curling into a ball on his bed and crying like a baby. He refused to let the reality that he would never have her eat him alive.
His shaking hand touched the end of the banister and even he had to admit that the trembling had only gotten worse over the past few months. He knew he was suffering from withdrawal, and Josselyn wasn’t the only thing he was doing without; it obviously wasn’t healthy for a person with a sex addiction to go without sex for three days, let alone three months.
The angel had ruined him, and he hated her for it.
As Thoros walked into the study, he locked eyes with Baddon, giving the giant a curt nod before finding a seat. His good friend had been trying to get to the bottom of this for the better part of the week, but every time he’d suggested doing anything about it, Thoros had refused to participate, convinced it was just a side effect of something Abigail’s angel had done when getting them released from Lucifer, or maybe it had something to do with being on Earth, something the humans were doing that was rubbing him wrong. They were destroying the ozone with their motored vehicles and the consumption of the tobacco they smoked, willingly. Then again, it could be something he had done, and that’s why he was in this room now, tight-lipped and itching to turn and run the other way.
Thoros cleared his throat and sat in an empty chair closest to the door, a good twenty feet from the rest of the group that were willing and waiting to help, and then gave Baddon a do-not-push-me look when the guy raised an eyebrow at him. They couldn’t help unless they shackled him in silver chains. He wasn’t opposed and wouldn’t object to the idea if that’s what they suggested needed to happen.
The thought of killing another innocent human made him want to throw up his last meal. Thinking about that, he realized he hadn’t eaten in days, hadn’t even had an urge to.
“…do you think, Thoros?”
His head shot up and he focused on the group, all of them staring at him, expecting him to answer a question he hadn’t heard spoken. “I’m sorry. What was that?”
Coen stood and gave Thoros a comforting smile as he walked across the room to him. Thoros eyed the fallen angel with suspicion, and then immediately felt relief and relaxation when the guy’s hands touched his temples.
Thoros stared up at him with a silly smile on his face, feeling as if he had just taken a handful of happy pills. “What did you do to me? I feel great,” he muttered.
Coen smiled. “In Hell, the royalty are the only ones that have power besides Lucifer. In Heaven we all had gifts.” He shrugged. “I lost them when I fell, but once I got part of my soul back, I’ve discovered some of my gift has returned. I suppose I’m being tested by God. I cannot say that I blame him. I’m thankful for whatever he allows me to have.”
“Just don’t get greedy, angel,” Lameria said with a smirk.
Phoebe huffed and everyone looked at her. “I’m the only one in this house that can’t defend myself with magic.”
“You’re immortal; why do you worry about defending yourself?” Fallis asked, and then Lameria cut in before Phoebe had a chance to answer.
“I thought this meeting was about Thoros, and why he’s all of a sudden killing people and looking like shit.”
Thoros shot her a puzzled look. “I look like shit?” he asked.
“Have you looked in the mirror this week?” She rolled her eyes as she looked back to Baddon, mumbling quietly under her breath. “That’s putting it nicely.”
Baddon cleared his throat and motioned with two fingers for Thoros to move closer. “Thoros, why don’t you come up here and join us, so you don’t—you know—miss anything vital?” It had been a request, but Thoros knew Baddon wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. And the big son of a bitch could get him down quicker than anyone he’d ever met.
Thoros glared at Baddon from under his lashes for only a moment before huffing, then standing and dragging the chair noisily behind him so he could place it closer to the group.
Baddon continued after Thoros got situated. “As I said before, I think Lucifer is behind it somehow. He still has half your soul—”
“He has half of all our souls! Why am I the only one killing people?”
Baddon took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ve thought about that, and I think it’s because you were the first to turn against him after Abigail. I keep waiting for this to affect the rest of us to confirm my theory, but,” he sighed, “it just hasn’t happened yet.”
“Yeah, that’s obvious.”
“What’s the last thing you remember about last night?” Damien asked.
Thoros thought about it for a minute, his eyebrows drawing together in thought and frustration as he ran the previous day’s events through his head out loud. “I slept until a little after one. I watched an episode of Maury, and then Jerry Springer, and then that show with the doctor that’s not really a doctor…” He snapped his fingers. “He’s always trying to help people better themselves with stuff that doesn’t work—”
“Dr. Oz?”
Thoros clapped his hands and pointed at Phoebe. “That’s it! Dr. Oz!”
“I think he’s really a doctor,” Phoebe replied.
“Back to your day, Thoros,” Baddon interrupted the debate about daytime TV with the loud bass of his voice.
Thoros leaned forward, letting his elbows rest on his knees. “Well, that’s about all that happened.”
“Such a sad excuse for a man,” Lameria retorted in a low voice, but Thoros ignored her jab at his ego.
“So, what happened after you finished watching TV?” Coen asked. “Think hard. What made you want to leave the house?”
Thoros shrugged again. “I don’t really remember. None of you were here and I got bored, I guess.” He sat there for a minute, and then looked up at the group with wide eyes. “I remember a guy on a bicycle. He looked to be in his late-twenties or so, short, dark-brown hair, red t-shirt, blue jeans, and he had a navy blue pack on his back. I remember he flew by me on the bike with a black Mercedes hot on his trail. I fleeted to keep up with him. The guy lost his pursuer at a red light, but I followed him all the way to Caesar’s Palace and… that’s the last thing I remember. Then I woke up naked in my bed about an hour ago with a guard outside my door.”
“The guard was necessary—”
“I know. I’m not bitching. A blanket would have been nice, though.”
“I put one over you, but you were dressed in the clothes you had on yesterday when I left the room.” Baddon turned his head to the side, and then looked over and glared at Tooka. She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Uh-huh, well, maybe we need a pet dog instead of a pet dragon with a crush on Thoros.”
Tooka’s anger flared and she bared her pointy teeth at Baddon, and then flew over to land beside Thoros’ chair.
Thoros chuckled as he stroked her head lovingly. “We’re not replacing you with a dog, Tooka. And she’s not a dragon, Baddon.”
“I know what the hell she is! She was in my damn syde before Murry stole my position!”
Smile still in place, and comforting a growling Tooka, Thoros responded, “Then you know she isn’t a dragon. Dragons aren’t nearly as pretty as kurets are.”
Baddon threw his hands up in defeat. “It doesn’t help when you encourage it,” he said to Thoros, and then pointed at Tooka, who only snapped at his finger with her tiny, sharp teeth. “You pull one more incident like that and I’ll
put you on a leash outside—”
“She’s not a dog, Baddon,” Thoros snapped as he coddled her. “She’s one of us, so cut her some slack, will ya’? She’s not hurting anyone, unlike me. Just leave her alone and let’s get back to the subject of why I’m killing humans.”
“Yes, let’s do that,” a female voice said from the door, and everyone in the room jumped to their feet in alarm. Baddon steadied Thoros as he began to sway. “Sorry I’m late to the party. I had more important things to tend to first,” Josselyn said, and gave them a smirk.
Chapter 5
Josselyn
It was all I could do to stand in the same room with Thoros and keep my cool. I wanted to scream at him and hit him for betraying me, but I didn’t. He’s a demon and that’s what demons do; they fool people and—and they hurt people. Well, I had been fooled once and it wasn’t going to happen again, because I wasn’t about to let him get under my skin or anywhere near my heart this time.
Trusting him wasn’t a necessity to the assignment, and I promised myself I wasn’t going to do anything that wasn’t necessary. I was going to figure out what Lucifer was doing with Thoros, do my damnedest to stop him, and then go find Malcolm.
That was the plan.
Following a plan was not difficult.
I held my head up and focused on the big guy with fire-engine red hair and shocking blue eyes. He was big, but Troy still had him beat by an inch or so.
I started to speak to him, but Thoros beat me to it by turning on the guy as he pointed at me.
“What is she doing here?” Thoros shouted, stunning me even further into silence.
The big guy placed his hand gently on Thoros’ shoulder and tried to move the irate demon to a chair, but Thoros roughly knocked his hand away.
“Sit down—”
My eyes widened in shock as I watched Thoros pull back his arm and put all his strength into the punch that connected square on with the big guy’s jaw.
Good Side of Sin Page 3