Only One I'll Have (UnHallowed Series Book 4)

by Tmonique Stephens

  His grin eased some of her mortifications. “It wasn’t sexy. Kinda messy.” She plucked at the pillow. “I ran when Eddie shouted. Hard to do that with your ass waving at everyone and pee running down your leg. Very unladylike.”

  “Next time you decide to pee in public, I’ll make sure I don’t miss it.” He propped a pillow under his head and folded his arms across his chest, getting comfortable.

  “I’m all out of graves to pee on,” she mumbled.

  “The scars, I never knew about.”

  No one knew. Only Scarla. She knew it all.

  “He can’t hurt you anymore, Sophie. Not physically.”

  “I know that.” But it wasn’t that simple. The mind holds onto pain longer than the body. “Ozzy broke something in me.”

  “Sophie—”

  “Let me finish,” she yelled and Chay snapped his trap shut. She heaved a frustrated yet satisfying sigh at his closed mouth and punched her pillow. “Why did I stay, that’s what I can’t get over. He didn’t chain me to the bed, lock me in a closet. I could’ve left, but I didn’t. I need to know why. What inside of me wanted to be hurt. What allowed me to let him lie to me, cheat on me, keep me away from my friends, from college. Beat me. He took my life and I let him.”

  Chay scooted closer until only the pillow kept them from touching. “You took your life back.”

  At the end of a gun that took the life of my brother. She couldn’t stop the tears.

  Strong, capable fingers threaded into her hair to rest at the back of her neck, grounding her in the now instead of the past. “This isn’t what Caleb would want for you.”

  “How do you know what he wanted when you never knew him,” she said between sobs.

  “With no one else to help you, your brother showed up and put himself between you and danger. He had to have known the risk and accepted it because he loved you. Caleb was a hero. Don’t take that from him by not living the life his sacrifice gave you.”

  It was true. He was a hero. Her hero, but… “I killed my brother and nothing can ever change that. I have to live with that the rest of my life. How do I do that?”

  “One day at a time, and each day it will get a bit easier. Each day you’ll appreciate his sacrifice. Each day you will forgive yourself just a little bit more. Don’t throw away the second chance he gave you.”

  “I’m scared, Chay.” She gripped the pillow tighter.

  “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, and I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” His voice heavy with conviction. She believed him, but…

  Sophie shook her head. “That’s not good enough. I need to be able to prevent anyone from hurting me again.”

  “If that’s what you want, then we’ll make it happen. I’ll train you and what I can’t teach you, I’ll hire someone who can.”

  That would fix part of her, but what about the rest of her? What about the shit still rotting inside. Everything he’d said touched her heart, sunk into her soul, yet…

  “Come home, Sophie.” UnHallowed didn’t plead, yet that’s what she heard in his voice, a plea to come home.

  Home? The word warmed the center of her chest. It surprised her how much she wanted that, to go back to Detroit, her home, except not like this. She couldn’t return still a broken, fragile thing everyone would tiptoe around and fawn over. Besides, her mother needed her. “I can’t. My mom. I must be here for her. Whatever happens, I’m not leaving her to face it alone.”

  He nodded, but she could see his disappointment. “I wish there was something I could do. Some way I could help.”

  UnHallowed couldn’t heal humans, only angels could. She knew that and didn’t ask, but the fact that he offered, understood why she had to stay, meant the world to her.

  She stretched her hand out. He kissed her knuckles and her palm. Heat stroked up her arm and left her panting. With his free hand, he gripped the pillow and waited.

  Pulling away, shutting this down, would’ve been the wisest course. She’d be wise tomorrow.

  Today, Sophie shoved the pillow away and ended the distance between them. Crimson swamped his irises and his arms caged her. With a tug, he didn’t stop until she lay sprawled on top of him, all that muscle rippling beneath her was exactly what she needed to take away the pain. And what better way than to self-medicate with a dose of Chay. “You want to help…take your pants back off.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Kushiél had no fucking idea what possessed him to agree to this madness. Boredom. Must be boredom that had him holding up a pole at the edge of a crowded convention floor. Bane nudged his shoulder and waved a beer in his face. Kush drained it, pulled at the tie choking him, and sent Bane back for another. Bastard better not complain. This wasn’t his idea of a fun night. So why was he here and in a fucking suit, no less? Damn Amaya and Dina for roping him into this insanity. After the fiasco last night, he should be in the shadows, not socializing. Never mind he could’ve said no, point being he hadn’t.

  Instead of a beer, Bane brought a triple shot of Jack. Kush graced his fellow UnHallowed with a microscopic smile and took a satisfying mouthful. Bane leaned on the opposite side of the pole, no doubt his gaze on Amaya, who chatted with a group of women a few yards away. Next to her was Dina. Both women were lovely and drew attention like a magnet drew metal shavings. Neither Bane nor Gideon seemed particularly stressed over the men fawning over them. In fact, where was— He spotted Gideon on the other side of the room in deep conversation with the mayor, along with Rimmon, who’d organized this outing.

  “Politics,” Rimmon lectured three nights ago during his pitch to get the lot of them to attend. “That is where the real power lies.”

  “Politics and lies, such intimate bedfellows,” Amaya laughed, then sobered quickly. “I hate to agree with you, Rimmon, but the UnHallowed can’t remain in the shadows, completely. There should be a public face, especially now that eleven of you can walk in the sun.”

  Kush had no idea why walking in the sun equaled the UnHallowed coming out of the shadows. The shadows had sheltered them since the Fall. Rimmon was all for it, greedy bastard. Besides, wasn’t Rimmon, the former Archangel of Storms, already their public face? Out of all of them, he dealt most with humans as CEO of Stormborne Conglomerate. If not, then someone needed to inform the asshole.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way. Why are you here?” Bane gave him a pointed glare and let his gaze drift over Kush’s charcoal suit.

  He thought he looked good. Dina and Amaya said so a few minutes ago. Were they lying? He glanced at Bane and had to admit his fellow UnHallowed had cleaned up well, as Scarla would put it. Dark blue suit, crisp white shirt, and tie. He’d shaved his beard, trimmed his goatee and mustache, even cut his hair. Kush had agreed to the suit and nothing else. Not even to tying his hair into a neat queue. He shifted and tugged at his jacket. A straightjacket had more room.

  Bane chuckled, opened his mouth to utter some nonsense that Kush would shove back down his throat with a fist. Amaya, signaling at Bane, caught both their attention. He downed the rest of his beer, shoved the bottle into Kush’s chest, and sauntered away at his woman’s beck and call. Pussy-whipped, that’s what Tahariél had called him.

  Kush snorted as Bane weaved through the crowd to his woman. Amaya welcomed him with a smile reserved for him alone and he tucked her to his side. They were one, which was clearly obvious to anyone with eyes. As were Gideon and Dina, who had moved to the dance floor, swaying to their own music, while everyone gyrated around them.

  A strangeness tugged at the center of Kush’s chest. Wasn’t the first time some random emotion he had no use for tried to break through. He ignored the sensation as he did all the other sensations accosting him through the millennia. A female strolled past him, her third time attempting to get his attention. She wore her guilt like a second skin she couldn’t hide from him. The sour scent of it polluted the air.

  Former Archangel of Atonement, my ass.

  Braile hadn’t returne
d all of Kush’s power, but he’d certainly returned enough for the guilt of every person in attendance to tweak his senses. She stopped, the glint in her eye was full of promise and unfulfilled desires she wanted to explore tonight. Her scent drifted toward him, distinct in its sourness. Her guilt was a living, breathing passenger hitching a ride on her soul. Sex was her antidote, one that failed her each and every time. If he dug deep, he would discover what tormented her, but he didn’t care enough to try.

  He dismissed the woman with a push against her will and a jerk of his head to send her scurrying away. She wasn’t the only female staring at him. For this reason, he’d lived primarily in the shadows, away from the day to day annoyances of dealing with humans. Like most of the UnHallowed, he didn’t care for the species, had no use for them.

  He pivoted and veered for the exit and the first shadowy corner, then he saw…her. By all the laws of nature, she was exquisite. She was tall, and that was before he added her five-inch stilettoes, with a figure that put an hourglass to shame. The low cut red dress hugged breasts that were round and firm, and braless by the slight, distracting jiggle. She had hips that flared dramatically from a narrow waist he could easily envision his hand circling as she straddled him. Her hair fell like a waterfall of fire from a knot high on her head and swayed back and forth in sync with the motion of her hips.

  She stopped traffic, male and female, from lust and envy. Her strut was an aggressive Get out of my way or get run the fuck over. People got out of her way, then stopped to stare as she swept past without a single glance to acknowledge they existed. The bar was her first pit stop. She walked between a group of men, waved at the bartender, who stopped what he was doing and rushed over. She ordered wine, white, and didn’t flirt with the men ogling her every blink while she checked her phone and waited for her drink.

  One of them paid for it before she whipped out her wallet. She toasted him with her glass and strutted away. He stopped her with a touch to her elbow. Kush took a step toward her before he realized his feet had moved. He needn’t have made the effort. Her head cranked around and though he couldn’t clearly see her expression, by the way the asshole jerked back, it was scathing.

  Kush couldn’t stop the grin that stretched his face. In that moment, she reminded him of Scarla and Amaya, and wondered if she could wield a sword. She continued on her way, her gaze scanning the room. Who did she search for? A man? He wondered with a low growl he couldn’t control. She stopped near the dance floor, drawing more attention. It had been a while since he had a female under him—three millennia or more. What was time when one was an immortal.

  Her gaze swept over him and lurched back. The weight of her sapphire eyes settled on him and his cock shot hard as if she’d taken the length in her palm and stroked it. Holy, she had a face equal to the perfection found in the Celestial Order. Long lashes, plump lips with a hint of lipstick, skin flawless on an oval face with a sharp, determined chin. All the beauty paled in comparison to her sapphire eyes circled by a dark ring.

  In his long life, he’d seen exceptional beauty like this before, and never had this reaction. Women with their multitude of never ending desires that couldn’t be fulfilled in a handful of lifetimes, they were feckless creatures, the majority with shifting loyalties. He dealt with them when he had to, more out of curiosity than passion.

  He expected her to look away. Even in a suit and tie, he represented the opposite of refined culture that congressed in the convention hall. Bigger than any male here, he stood out, even as he slumped against the pillar. The tattoos on either side of his mohawk added to his sullied image. Bad boy, Scarla called it. As if he could be lumped into any human category. Any second now, she would veer away in disgust and seek more refined company.

  Her gaze took a leisurely stroll down his body. He straightened from his slouch, so she’d get a full view and bolt. Runaway, human. She stepped forward and didn’t stop until inches separated them.

  “What’s your name?” Her husky tone was all challenge and demand. It raised his hackles. Aggression pulsed under his skin, along with other things. Good thing his shades shielded his eyes, otherwise she’d see the telltale sign he wasn’t mortal. She waited, expecting an answer. One sculpted eyebrow arched, her head canted at an angle, that ponytail swaying.

  “Why?” He spared a single word.

  Her brow knit together, and he couldn’t believe his question confused her. “Why as to your name?”

  He nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets.

  She smirked, downed her drink in one long gulp, her throat a seductive, alabaster column his tongue needed to taste. She pressed the empty glass into his chest. He caught it before it hit the floor. “I don’t play games.” She flipped open her clutch and withdrew a business card.

  “You have the right look and I’m interested. Give me a call and we’ll talk money.” She slid the card into his breast pocket, patted his chest twice, and let her hand slide away in what had to be a caress. Her scent tickled his nose. His nostrils flared, and he pulled her into his lungs. Freesia, clean and breezy, like sunlight in the palm of the hand, filled his chest.

  Brain stuck in neutral at the combination of her scent and her boldness, he watched her spin in those five-inch stilettos and squealing, fake run into Amaya’s embrace. They did the girl thing, jumping up and down, talking too fast for anyone to follow except them. Bane, Gideon, and Dina waited safely outside of their reunion. The squealing and babbling died down when they noticed the scrutiny.

  Amaya called the others over and introduced them. Bane, her boyfriend, Gideon and Dina, husband and wife. Amaya searched the crowd until she found him. She waved him over. He waited until she had locked onto the person Amaya pointed to. The surprise on her face gratified in so many ways. He placed her glass on a nearby table and took his time making his way to them. He let her get her fill and she wasn’t shy about her open appraisal. Her gaze was an intimate caress that made a growl catch at the back of his throat.

  “And this is Kushiél, Bane and Gideon’s brother. Everyone, this is my bestie, Pilar Perry.”

  Her wave was a careless whatever as she focused solely on Kush. “My offer still stands, even though you’re related. Business is business.”

  Amaya got between them. “When did you two meet and what business are you talking about, Pilar? It better not be what I think it is?” she hissed, not low enough for anyone to miss.

  “It’s nothing nefarious. I have a business proposition I think he’d be perfect for.” Pilar shrugged, an elegant motion that caused her breasts to jiggle just enough for his gaze to lock on the motion and for his cock to further thicken.

  “What business are you in? Amaya never said.” Bane hedged, a fraction of a smile on his face. A smile with zero warmth.

  “I sell adult toys,” she said blandly, as if relaying the weather.

  Blink. Blink. A long beat of silence. Then…

  “Do you have a catalog?” Dina said. Gideon did a double take. Bane chuckled, which deepened into a full, bent over, holding onto your side laugh, while Kush stood there wondering what her business proposition entailed.

  “Will he be naked for this business proposition?” Bane wheezed between laughs.

  “Or in a thong?” Gideon joined in.

  “And will there be pictures?” Bane choked out.

  “Please, Heavenly Father, let there be pictures.” Gideon made the sign of the cross at which Dina slapped his hands.

  Amaya glared at Bane and Gideon. “Enough, guys. Come on, Pilar. Let’s introduce you to Rimmon and the mayor.”

  The women headed off while Kush stayed focused on her sleek back exposed to the small dip right above the crack of her ass. Her scent lingered, distinct from everyone else’s for one extraordinary reason. Either she’d never done anything in her life that caused even the smallest amount of guilt. Or, she was a narcissistic sociopath incapable of feeling any.

  Kush intended to find out which.

  Amaya and Pilar cr
ossed the room to join Rimmon. His annoyed glare landed on Amaya then changed to open appraisal when he saw Pilar. He took her hand, kissed her knuckles, lingered. She smiled, laughed at something he said. Her breasts jiggled.

  Kush spun and stalked back to the bar. He ordered a whiskey neat.

  “You all right, man?” Bane was at his right, Gideon his left, babysitting.

  Kush grunted. They’d had to be blind not to notice his interest, and Rimmon’s. If pestered, he’d blame it on Braile. The partial return of his powers had Kush behaving strangely and questioning everything. As an UnHallowed, or an archangel, he’d never been this conflicted. Now, stuck between both, regaining the power to sense human guilt and deliver the appropriate atonement increased each day. Like all the others, he wanted his powers back. What was the human idiom? Ah yes, “Be careful what you wish for.”

  With his back to the bar, he surveyed the crowd and spotted Rimmon continuing to monopolize the mayor’s time, alone. Where were the women? His gaze darted around the room.

  “They’re over there.” Bane pointed to the lavatories in the corner of the room. Kush caught a glimpse of the trio before they vanished on the other side of the swinging door.

  “They’re going to be in there for a while. Let’s go embarrass Rimmon.” Gideon led the way in the opposite direction. Kush lingered a moment. He waited enough times on Scarla to know Gideon was right. It was just…

  Kush scanned the room again, one palm itching for his empyreal sword, the other his tri-blade. He glanced at his brothers. Both were still, their bodies tense, as was Rimmon on the other side of the room. Their heads on a swivel, each searched the room.

  A demon is here, Rimmon said on their private link directly in their minds.

  More than one, Bane’s voice joined Rimmon’s inside Kush’s head.

  Extract the women. I’ll kill it, Kush ordered.

  Then the lights went out.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “What the hell, Pilar!” Amaya shouted the second the door swung closed behind Dina.