Though far below ground, in the ancient sewers of London, Leopold’s bolt hole was luxurious. The curved stone walls were the only hint of the past. The floors were covered in thick rugs. Large, ornate furniture decorated the space, giving it more the aura of a mansion than an underground cistern.
Azazel had full control of Julius’ body and he didn’t resist. He was far too curious what the fallen angel had to say. Besides, Leopold was one of the people he wouldn’t mind watching suffer.
Leopold walked into the room, pausing partway across. His spine stiffened and he spun around. His icy eyes widened.
“You can’t think I didn’t know where you lived.”
“Why are you here?” Leopold’s gaze shifted behind Julius, where the Nephilim paced.
His lips stretched as Azazel smiled. “I thought I’d leave you a gift.”
Leopold swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion.
“Quite benevolent of me considering you failed today.” They strolled to the center of the room, running their hand along the back of a plush couch.
“L-l-leo?” A woman’s voice called from the other room. His wife. Azazel’s revulsion shuddered though him.
“Sinclair used Magic. I’d have been in a better position from here, but you insisted I go. You put me in harm’s way. I’m lucky to be alive.”
“Duncan was right, you are a prissy little cunt, aren’t you?” This time Julius mouth curved from his own amusement. “You let Satrina get away. You owe me.”
“Bullshit. I got you that body.” He pointed to Julius. “That was my part of the deal. But you, you haven’t destroyed the coven. Two guardians still live.”
“Three guardians still live—if you count this one.” Their hand twisted, pointing at himself. “And the coven will die soon. They plan to summon my host and exorcize me from this prison at long last.”
Praise Jesus, it was about fucking time. He needed to make plans—the information he had on Azazel and his activities would be useful for the coven.
“You will come to my tower in a week’s time. Alone or with a different body, I care not.”
Leopold shook his head. “I held up my end of the bargain. You didn’t. If you get stuck in one of those towers again, it’s your own damned problem.”
“No, it’s our problem. You promised me freedom. There were no conditions. No provisions. Just freedom. If you do not hold up your end of the bargain, you’re ash.”
Leopold shook his head. “I can’t control the Nephilim and they’re everywhere.” His gaze darted to the creatures by the door. “They’ll tear me apart if I go outside.”
Julius’ mouth spread in a smile he didn’t feel. “These Nephilim will protect you and make sure you get to my tower in a week’s time.”
“Why a week? This is ridiculous. Fight her now.”
“The exorcism will leave me weak and I will not risk failure. You will release me in a week’s time after she’s exorcised me and then I will destroy her.”
Leopold’s jaw tightened, ticking out his irritation. “And what of that one.” He motioned to Julius. “What if they get hold of him? He’ll tell them everything.”
“No. We have no reason to fear my host. I have some gifts for him, too.”
Gifts? Jesus fucking Christ he didn’t like the sound of that. Not considering the gifts he’d left Leopold.
“If my host survives the exorcism, he won’t remember anything about our time together.”
Leopold scoffed. “Memory spells aren’t permanent.”
They rarely lasted more than a few days.
“Which is why my second gift is a curse. With each rising sun my host will be overpowered with the urge to destroy himself.”
The darkness inside Julius tightened into a sickening knot.
Leopold snorted. “His Vampiric survival instinct won’t allow suicide.”
Azazel laughed. “Yes. It will be interesting to see how long he can fight the impulse. With his survival instinct set against my suicide curse he should experience a slow, agonizing demise should those he protects not kill him first.” Azazel took a menacing step closer to Leopold. “I’ve considered everything, including those things you do not wish to draw attention to . . . such as that pathetic wife of yours. You will obey me.”
Chapter 34
Goddess help her. Elephant-sized butterflies were stomping around her innards, wreaking havoc on her good intentions. She’d been pacing the hall outside her and Duncan’s rooms for the last fifteen minutes. He was in there, she could feel him.
She just wasn’t sure what to say. Or how to say it. Now that she had the Magic issue worked out, how did she go about setting everything to rights with him? He hadn’t come looking for her when he returned with Harry, which worried her. Claire and Violet had seen him come in and taken him to Kat so she could heal the stab wound on his back . . . but he hadn’t even asked about her.
The door to their room opened and Duncan stuck his head out. “Are you about finished wearing grooves in the floor?”
Time was up. She swallowed hard and went into the room. Walked to the window and back to the door.
He caught hold of her arm. “Look, Duchess—”
“No.” She dug the necklace she and Lilith had spellcast out of her pocket. “I need you to wear this.”
The stone—dark green with red blotches—hung from a silver chain. He stared, but didn’t take it.
“Please?”
With a sigh, he took it and put it on. “Now—”
She held up her hand. “You’re going to have to wait. I’m sick over this and I need to get this out before I lose my nerve.”
“Go on, then.” He folded his arms over his chest.
“Lilith and I made that, not the rock of course. . . . Okay we didn’t make it, we spellcast it so you and James—she’s giving one to him—will be protected from our Magic. Negative spells, at least. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. I—”
“’Cause you were wearing yourself out over it, that’s why.”
“Maybe. But now we don’t have to worry about that anymore and I wanted to see if I’ve screwed things up too badly. If maybe you’re willing to give this another go.”
His head tipped to the side. “Another go?”
She’d finally talked to Lilith and told her everything—about her Magic and Trevor and disappearing. Lilith hadn’t even flinched. She’d been sympathetic. If she was going to be honest with Duncan, she had to do so now before all her fears came back. “The guy that I thought the Watchers sent to me . . . Trevor. I killed him.”
“I know.”
He knew? “I didn’t mean to.”
His lips curved. “I know that, too.”
“How?”
“Whenever you’re asleep, I see your nightmares.”
Trina wet her lips. All this time…he knew. He knew and he was still here.
“What I’d like to know is how much you saw when you popped into me head.”
“Just what you saw and heard. I knew you didn’t kill your family. I didn’t realize your wife was so beautiful.” Magazine-cover gorgeous. She smoothed her hands down her tee-shirt.
“I realized a few things tonight, too.” He held up a finger. “One. What you did, barging into me head—”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what else to do, I needed you. I won’t ever—”
“Yeah, you will.” He stepped closer. “I think it comes as natural as breathing to you.”
She swallowed. “I haven’t done that for years. I don’t have to—”
“You do.” He gripped her chin between his fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze. “It’s part of the reason you hid yourself away. You’ve been lying to yourself, you can’t be around people all the time and always be on guard.”
Tears pricked her eyes. “I didn’t ask to be like this. Maybe, if we ask the coven they can—”
“No.” He took a step closer.
She backed away.
; “No one is changing a goddamn thing about you. You have that gift for a reason, did you ever think of that?” He came closer. Let go of her chin to hold up two fingers. “Two. The idea of you seeing in me head scares the shite out of me.”
“Duncan. We can figure this out.” Now that she’d figured out how to protect him from her spells, she couldn’t lose him now.
He lifted the stone. “I’ll wear this bloody thing as long as you want me to on one condition. You let go and be yourself with me.”
“What?”
“All or nothing. Right now, Duchess. Make your choice. Either we do this all the way, or we both fuck off.” He stalked forward again and her back came up against the wall. “I’m exhausted worrying about what you’ll think of me when you finally slip up and end up in me mind. You’re exhausted worrying about always being on guard to protect me from your Magic and keeping your shields up so you don’t slip into me head. We can’t go on like this. So all or nothing.”
What would it be like? To just let go? Part of her wanted to jump at the opportunity before he came to his senses, but she loved him too much to not warn him. “I’m not sure you know what you’re asking me. What if—?”
“Oh, I understand.” He pulled her toward the over-sized armchair by the window, sat, and tugged her down over him so she straddled his legs. “I’m driving meself nuts, worrying about what’ll happen once you’re in here.” He hit his head with the heel of his hand. “Do me a favor and just get it out of the way so I can relax, too.”
“Just tell me.”
“I’ll shade it. Make a muck of it.” He pulled her hands up to his face and kissed her palms. “After the talk I had with Harry . . . I just want it over with. Be like pulling the Band Aid off all at once. Yeah?”
Trina chewed her lip, unsure who was more afraid, him or her. She had no idea what she’d find in his mind. No clue what he may have thought about her in the past. What if she discovered he loved Gertie or Satrina more than he could ever love her?
He pulled her closer, until her forehead rested on his.
“I don’t have to touch you, Dunc.”
“Yeah, well, I need you to.”
Her lips curved and she closed her eyes and reached out to him.
Gertie was a gorgeous woman who liked to sneak into the fights her father arranged at one of his warehouses. Well-dressed, she stood out among those who gathered to bet on the fights. She shouldn’t have been there. Not in Cheapside. Not at a fight. Her presence made him curious and he’d already been enamored of her fair looks.
After his victory, Duncan wound through the crowd to her side. They flirted and he lured her back to his place, to his bed. When she left in the morning he didn’t expect to ever see her again, recognizing the one night stand for what it was. But three months later she returned. Pregnant and disowned, she didn’t know where to go or what to do. Duncan married her.
As time went on Gertie changed. No longer the flirting, adventurous spirit from the night they met. She became mean-spirited, angry, and cruel. At first he thought her temper might be due to the pregnancy, but she became worse, not better after she gave birth to Charlie.
When Gertie yelled and screamed and cursed he took her berating at face value. Everything was his fault. He’d ruined her life. Was too stupid, too useless to provide adequately for them.
He doted on their son, when she refused. He withstood her punches and slaps as if he did indeed deserve them.
The abuse sickened Trina, she ached for Duncan. For Charlie. Now his worry she’d find him lacking made sense.
Gertie had.
Duncan had dyed his son’s diaper purple, just like he’d told her. She smiled at his laughter when he hung the cloth to dry. But when he turned around, Gertie’s beautiful face twisted in rage, visible for a flash before being blocked out by the large cast iron pot she wielded.
Trina tightened her hold on Duncan, grateful that he’d demanded she cuddle close. She’d asked him once if he’d broken his nose in a fight, and he’d said, “Of a sort.”
“Jesus, Gertie.” Duncan grabbed the freshly dyed nappy and put it to his ruined nose to stem the flow of blood. “You tryin’ to make me hit you?”
“Yes! They say you killed a man with one blow. I’ve heard them talking about you in the streets. Hit me like you did him, put me out of my misery.”
He stared. Mute. A hot flush assailing his already throbbing face. “It—” He coughed. “It’s so bad, then, marriage to me?”
“Yes.” Her reply was empathetic. Absolute. “I’m not meant for this.” Her hand opened, encompassing everything around them. The little run-down flat. Duncan. Charlie. “If you have any sense in that thick skull of yours, do this for me.”
His throat burned. “I’m going out.”
“Duncan!”
He kissed his baby’s cheek, pausing to wipe the smear of blood from Charlie’s face. He grabbed a heavy sack, the metal items within clanging together as he settled the bag on his shoulder and strode from the room.
“You’re a coward.” Gertie’s sobs followed him through the narrow hall and down the rickety stairs.
That’s how he knew her so well. He had to constantly guard his temper around Gertie, just like she had to constantly guard her temper around everyone else. If he’d ever hit Gertie, he probably would’ve killed her. She smoothed her thumb over his eyebrow. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Sharing.” She shrugged.
“You don’t . . . .” He stared out the window. “Think less of me?”
Why would she think less of him? She reached out to him again and got the answer. He still believed some of the things Gertie used to say.
She forced him to look at her. “Never.” She spread her hands on his chest, her thumbs stroking over his nipples, making his breath hitch. “You’re the strongest male I’ve ever known. A ruthless fighter. An amazing lover. I’m lucky to have you for my mate.”
“Say that again.”
“I’m lucky—”
“Nah, the last two words.”
“My mate.” She grinned. “I love my mate.”
“Do you now?” His lips twitched. “You planning on showing me how much?”
“Yeah.” Her smile faded. “Every single night.” It was a vow. “You’ll never be my better-something-than-nothing.”
He pressed his thumb to the corner of her mouth. “What am I then?”
“My something beautiful.”
His eyes darkened and his grip tightened on her. “Good. ’Cause you're mine.”
She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. “I need you.”
*****
She’d finally decided she wanted to be his.
“Clothes, Duchess.”
Their clothing disappeared, leaving them skin-to-skin. She nipped his lip, rubbed her breasts against his chest. “I can’t wait.”
No. Waiting wasn’t an option. Not this time. She lifted up and he fit himself to her opening. As always, her body resisted at first. “Damn it, Dunc.”
He grinned. Fit his hands to the curves of her hips and pressed her down. Her body submitted. She turned her face to his neck and nipped him. Wrapped herself around him, pressing closer.
“Christ, I love that.” The way she fussed when he entered her—the way she held onto him seeking solace from the very stretch she’d demanded. The way she cursed him and cuddled into him at the same time. The way she bit him in retaliation when he pushed past her tight entrance. The way she tried to wrap herself around him, pressing every part of her to every part of him as if trying to distract herself from the intensity—he couldn’t imagine what it was like for her, but for him he damned near saw stars with that first thrust. Those breathy sighs and moans whispering over his skin.
“What?”
“You.” He pulled out until just the head of his cock rested inside of her before thrusting back in. “That.”
Her lips parted. Eyes closed. Her hands flexed at the back of his neck
. “Again.”
Yes. Again. He’d never get tired of this. Never. Christ, that was good. Her ragged breath heated his ear. Her nails dug into his shoulders. She rotated her hips each time she sank down on his length, as if trying to get him as deep as possible.
He stood, taking her with him, took two steps to the bed and lay her down. Her legs remained around his hips, his cock still buried inside her. Her hair spread out around her face. He hooked one of her legs over his arm and leaned over her, careful not to put his weight on her. He drew her nipple into his mouth, drawing on the tight bud.
“Oh.” Her hands twisted in the sheets. She bucked against him. “Oh, Dunc.”
Reaching between them, he stroked her off. Clenched his jaw as she tightened around him, as her release pulsed through her. He thrust into her once, twice more and his orgasm raced through him, setting off fireworks behind his eyes. “Christ, I love you.”
Chapter 35
Duncan stood with James on a rise overlooking where the Grigori coven had gathered in a stone circle outside the walls of the Citadel. The children were at the keep, safely tucked away should anything go wrong out here.
Trina walked with Lilith around the perimeter of the Circle. Kat knelt near the center, carving a pentacle into the dirt. From what he understood, once they summoned Julius he’d be bound inside the symbol.
The rest of the coven stood in groups of two or three as they chatted. They were nervous. They milled about, wringing their hands and tugging their hair.
“Hurts like hell.” James glanced at him. “Summoning.”
“Good. Maybe that’ll keep Crowley from trying to mesmerize the coven.”
“None of them will look him in the eyes. They know better. They remember.”
Harry joined them, George pacing across his shoulders—he had a bigger perch now. “Kat told me they’re keeping the spell simple. No embellishments.”
Duncan glanced at him. It was going to take him a while to get used to seeing Harry as an adult and hearing him speak with such a deep voice. “Been talking to her a lot, have you?”
He shrugged. “She couldn’t sleep last night. Neither could I.” He nodded toward the Circle. “They’re bringing Crowley in, separating him from the Watcher, and then banishing the Watcher.”
The Shadow: The Original's Trilogy Page 33