Anahita remembered the physical torment she’d been in when they’d done this before and Max had left her wanting. She would not do the same to him. She must have caught him unaware—or he simply wanted it too badly himself—for Anahita was able to free her hands from his hold.
“Your turn,” she whispered up to him. And then she placed her palm over the front of his pants. She gasped at the same time he did. She could feel him throbbing through the fabric. His length was so long and so hard, she almost hurt for him. But just as she was about to undo his pants and bring him to pleasure the way he had showed her to do, Max exploded into an upright position.
He stumbled back, almost tripping over his feet. His eyes roamed, touching her and quickly sliding away to her surroundings. He muttered to himself in an unbroken stream of self-recrimination that Anahita could not quite hear, except in snatches.
Then he turned and ran. Anahita was still gasping from the heights he had taken her body to when the door slammed behind him.
All of the good feelings he’d wrung from her body dissipated into the air. This—this was almost worse than how she’d felt when it had been him who’d received the pleasure, and she who had gone wanting.
She felt dirty. Used. Again.
Who was she fooling? This was worse.
Chapter Eleven
Distance. Distance. Distance.
Max careened down the hall, his raging erection preventing movement without pain, and all the while, that damn word was a litany inside his head, mocking his complete failure at maintaining it.
Distance. Distance. Distance.
He made it all the way to the end of the hallway before he broke. With a roar, he spun into the wall, kicking the plaster hard enough to make a plume of dust explode out and cover him. “Fuck your distance!” he bellowed.
He heard a snort and spun around again to find that his little mantrum had taken place right where the hallway met the main room. Eli and Jericho stood a handful of feet away, both wearing wry grins. Max’s brows crashed down over his eyes. He didn’t know which of these bastards had snorted, but he was going to find out and punch him in the throat.
Before he could act, however, Eli raised an eyebrow and said, “Problem, Casanova?” And then he pointedly flicked his eyes down to Max’s waist.
Max’s eyes followed, and there it was: the biggest hard-on he’d ever sported pushing obviously against the front of his trousers. “Shit,” he muttered, crossing his hands over his fly.
“I hope to God you left her in a better state than you,” Jericho said, “because Jayden will straight up take this out on your hide if he finds out.”
“I can take the angel.”
Jericho’s smile faded. “Uh, no. You really can’t.”
Eli nodded. “Truth.”
Max wanted to throw his hands up, but he still had a pants problem, so his hands stayed right where they were. “Where’s Luke?” he asked in a piss-poor attitude that even he could recognize was obnoxious.
“Came out here looking like someone had kicked his puppy, and then took off for the medical wing like his britches were on fire,” Eli said with a shrug.
Medical wing. “Ah, hell,” Max said, dropping his hands and taking off in a sprint across the room.
“Everything okay?” one of the men shouted after him, the Southern accent indicating it was Eli.
Max didn’t bother to answer, just kept running. Everything wasn’t okay. He’d left Oliver alone. He’d left Oliver alone!
“Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered under his breath, tearing past people who stopped to gawk at him.
He heard the explosive noise coming out of Oliver’s room from the beginning of the medical wing, and immediately, Max knew he’d messed up in a way that he could not compensate for.
Oliver’s voice came roaring through the hall, nearly bowling Max over. His friend was screaming—not obscenities, but in fright. Max had never heard him make that noise before, but he instinctively recognized the desperation of Oliver’s fear.
“Put him out,” Luke begged.
Max skidded into the room, not having to pause to open the door because people in scrubs were rushing in and out. Luke was standing at Oliver’s side, clinging to the man’s hand as he thrashed on the cot and continued that dreadful screaming. Without breaking stride, Max hurried over to Oliver’s other side. Oliver’s blue eyes found Max’s face, and Oliver’s panic increased. “Where are we?” Oliver shouted, gripping Max’s hand so tightly he heard some cracking.
“We’re safe, man,” Max said quickly. “We’re safe.”
But Oliver’s screams drowned Max out. A man in blue scrubs shoved Max out of the way, and the light gleamed off of a syringe right before the nurse plunged it into Oliver’s thigh.
Almost immediately, Oliver’s screams faded and then went out completely. His blue eyes slid closed, and his breathing evened out. Most of the medical staff left the room with only two staying behind to make notations on charts and check Oliver’s vitals and make notations on charts.
Max stared at Oliver through eyes that were growing dry from a lack of blinking. “He woke up alone,” Max said under his breath.
“No,” Luke whispered gently. “I was here.”
Max’s head snapped up, and he blinked at Luke until he came into focus.
“But you know he needs you when he first wakes up.”
Max nodded silently, guilt pouring through him almost more severely than he could handle.
“Stop your bitching.”
Both their heads swiveled in Oliver’s direction. The gravelly statement had come from Oliver, who was staring at Max through bleary but calm eyes.
“I don’t need anyone,” Oliver said. “I’m a regular fucking rock.”
A half-laugh burst from Max’s chest motivated by relief. Oliver’s face was completely relaxed. All evidence of the torture he’d been experiencing was absent. “Oh yeah,” Max said. “Your screams: very rock-like.”
“Damn straight,” Oliver muttered, his eyes drooping. “Just call me Alcatraz.”
“That’s terrible,” Max said, edging closer to Oliver’s cot as the remaining medical staff left.
“Of course it is. You geniuses roofied me.”
“Your screams, remember?” Luke said.
“Oh, yeah,” Oliver said, his words slurring. “This shit’s great.” Luke and Max glanced at each other before focusing on Oliver once more. “I want pudding,” Oliver muttered, and then his head drifted to the side.
Luke cleared his throat and gestured for Max to join him out in the hall. With one last look at Oliver’s peacefully sleeping face, Max followed Luke out.
Jericho and Eli were leaning against the wall opposite the door. They straightened when Max and Luke came into sight. “Everything okay?” Jericho asked.
“Yeah,” Luke said, clapping Max on the shoulder. “Everything is okay.” And for Max’s ears alone, he added, “Truly okay, my man. You understand me? He’s fine. No harm no foul.”
A tiny fraction of Max’s guilt dissipated from his shoulders. A tiny fraction, but a welcome relief nonetheless. He nodded to Luke and turned his attention to the other two men. “Luke will want to debrief us,” he said.
“Really?” Eli said, his brows rising. “He was barely in there with Anahita. He had time to learn something?”
“Prepare to be amazed,” Max said. He could see Luke duck his head and knew the man was blushing.
“Follow us to the meeting room,” Jericho said, turning on his heel and walking out of the medical wing in giant strides that they all had to work hard to match, despite the fact that they were all taller than average themselves.
Jericho led them to a room that housed a long, mahogany table surrounded by a dozen leather chairs. They all naturally congregated at the far end where they could watch the door easily—old soldier habits die hard.
“Okay,” Max said to Luke, knowing from experience that he had hit intel pay dirt. “Lay it on them.”
Max frowned and saw the expression mirrored on Jericho’s and Eli’s faces.
Luke continued, “The man Anahita was talking to was an angel named Remiel, and he did something to his Temptation—I’m fairly confident that he killed her.”
“No,” Jericho said, shaking his head. “Are you serious?”
“Very,” Luke said. He placed his hands on the table and stared at them rather than at the other men. “And Anahita looks up to him. It wouldn’t be remiss to call it ‘idol worship.’” He flicked a quick glance at Max, and then returned his eyes to his hands. “Max isn’t safe from her, and if he isn’t safe—”
“None of us are,” Eli finished for him.
“There is some hope,” Luke said softly. Max found himself swallowing hard. “Anahita is definitely ... conflicted where Max is concerned. But she is also resolute. She wants something—very much wants something—that only our deaths will bring about. She doesn’t take this goal lightly, and neither should we.”
Luke raised his head and pinned Max with a heavy look. The and you treating her like a booty call will not help our case was heavily implied in that single moment of eye contact. Max’s eyes shifted away, and he tried as surreptitiously as possible to finger-comb his hair over his scar.
“You got all of that?” Jericho asked. “From a five minute conversation?”
“Well,” Max said, “a conversation and an ill-conceived pass.”
He could feel Luke’s discomfort, and Eli’s and Jericho’s brows shot up. They looked at each other and then back at the two of them.
“Along that vein of thought,” Max said, examining his fingers casually. “The angel and I—we’ve come to an agreement.” He looked directly at Luke. “An exclusive agreement.”
Luke’s face fell. “You’re in a relationship?”
“I wouldn’t say relationship.”
Either Jericho or Eli coughed uncomfortably, but Max didn’t look away from Luke.
Luke’s jaw went slack. “You’re friends with benefits with an angel of the Most High God?”
Max frowned. Luke had been watching too much television while staying with Oliver in the medical wing. “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds douche-y.”
“How would you put it?”
“…I wouldn’t say friends…”
“I’m going to punch you again. You want me to punch you again.”
“Do you guys, uh, want to be alone?” Eli asked.
Both of their heads snapped in his direction. “No!” they said simultaneously.
The door opened and bounded off the wall with a crash. Silence reigned as all four of them looked at the doorway that housed one irate Jayden. His green eyes flashed. “Do I want to know what friends with benefits is?” he asked.
“No,” all four of them said in unison.
“I tried to visit Anahita,” Jayden said as he walked into the room, his eyes never leaving Max. “She would not even see me. Kept assuring me she was fine. From the other side of a closed door.”
Remembering what Eli and Jericho had said about Jayden’s ability, Max imagined a wall surrounding his thoughts and tried his best to make sure Jayden couldn’t see through it.
Jayden narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side, but after a tense moment, he merely pointed his finger at Max and said, “If I find out this casual agreement you two seem to have is anything other than Anahita’s greatest wish, you will be destroyed.”
“See,” Luke said beneath his breath. “They are anything but predictable, even when around their Temptations.”
“You have no idea,” Jayden said, the threat in his tone clear. “Now, who wants to tell me why we are using Anahita as bait?”
Eli sighed heavily. “Told you guys to stay away from him,” he said.
“He came to us!” Max protested.
“I gleaned this plan from your thoughts,” Jayden said, turning his attention to Eli.
Jericho laughed outright before catching it and trying to disguise it as a cough when Eli glared at him.
“I’m distracted, okay?” Eli said, running a hand through his hair. “Genesis doesn’t sleep much, and I miss my wife, if you know what I mean. We’ve been stretching the Impulse pretty thin these days.”
Jericho definitely looked like he knew what Eli meant. Genesis was the first child born of an Impulse Pair. She was still a newborn, so if she had any special powers or there were any effects on her life, no one could tell yet. Apparently, she was normal in the keeping-her-parents-up-all-night sense. And Eli and Abilene would have to continue to see to each other’s physical needs on a regular basis or face the same effects that plagued Oliver. The Impulse didn’t take vacations, even for new babies, as it turned out.
“Yeah, that’s the part I’m not looking forward to myself,” Jericho said, slapping Eli on the back. “Worth it, though, right?”
Eli’s eyes seemed to twinkle. “You have no idea,” he said with a wide, lopsided smile.
Max turned to look at Jayden again and caught the angel looking at the two fathers wistfully before blanking his expression entirely. Jayden walked over to them and took the vacant chair at the head of the table. “So, Anahita,” Jayden said, most of the ire gone from his voice. “Why have you chosen to spy on her?”
Luke spoke up first. “She’s meeting with another angel who is directing her mission to kill Max, Oliver, and myself. We figured some intel would not be remiss.”
Jayden nodded. “Remiel,” he said.
All attention, already focused on Jayden, sharpened in a nanosecond. “You know him?” Eli said, his words measured.
“Come on, humans,” Jayden said. “Anahita has taken over my mission. It stands to reason I know everyone she knows, especially the head of the Warriors.”
“Jayden,” Jericho said, leaning forward, “why wouldn’t you tell us this before?”
Jayden straightened and seemed to glare down his nose at Jericho. “I did not know if it was pertinent yet.”
Max scowled. “Everything is pertinent.”
Jayden turned his head and narrowed his eyes at Max. “Indeed.”
Max had the urge to stretch the neck of his shirt away from skin that suddenly itched.
“Before you get your feathers ruffled,” Jayden continued, “you should know that I was telling you everything I thought you needed to know as soon as I knew it. For example, I told you the location of these two.” Jayden gestured to Max and Luke with a wide sweep of his hand. “I have my suspicions about Remiel’s motivation, but I was saving judgment until I was sure.”
“You have suspicions?” Eli asked, straightening.
Jayden sighed. “Do not speak to me as though I owe you all I know,” he said softly. “I have gained much in Grace, but everything else I have known for my entire existence is now lost to me. I cannot betray my brethren lightly. You must know that.”
Max felt the slightest softening toward the angel, but refused to allow it too much hold.
“Will you tell us your suspicions now?” Jericho asked.
Jayden looked at the man, then opened his mouth with obvious reluctance. “I am not sure my mission—now Anahita’s—comes from the Most High,” he said.
He saw the others lean forward in his peripheral vision, and Max made himself slouch in his seat, though everything in him perked up, telling him the angel knew much more than the simple words promised.
“I first suspected when I discovered that He spoke to you all. That He spoke fondly to you all. You’ve dubbed it the Voice,” Jayden said. “Some of you embrace it, others spurn it”—his eyes flicked to Max briefly—“but it is always constant on His side. He likes you. Why would He order me to kill you? And this Knowledge Max, Jericho, and Dahlia have…” He paused to glance at Max. “You sense that we are
evil whenever we get close to killing you, correct?”
Max nodded and saw Jericho do the same.
Jayden smiled wryly. “Angels are not evil, are they.” It was not a question, and Max frowned. That was an excellent point. “We would only be evil if we were pursuing a mission outside of the Most High’s will,” Jayden continued. “I was given the order to guard the Trees from all human interference when Adam and Eve were banished from the Garden of Eden. But I was only given those orders that once. The Most High never again repeated them.” He paused and looked at the table. “Remiel did,” he finished softly.
“What does that mean?” Max asked, finally leaning forward. “Spell it out for us, angel.”
Jayden’s eyes flashed. “Much has changed since the humans’ betrayal in the Garden of Eden. Anger has had time to abate. Humanity has again become a favorite with the Most High. It is a fact that some of the brethren—who have always remained faithful to the Most High’s commands—resent. It is ... possible ... that some of those brethren would have organized themselves to mete out the punishment they believe is due.”
“I thought angels didn’t have free will,” Jericho said. “How would they be able to organize themselves into a rebellion?”
“That is true,” Jayden said. “There are two possibilities: this could be the Temptation of several of the brethren, and they are facing their Falls by doing this; or, this could be the manifestation of some of the brethren obeying the Most High’s initial command to the letter, disregarding His changing feelings toward humanity. He has not spoken to us on the matter since the beginning, and that allows us to assume His original order still stands. Though,” Jayden said, looking across the room at nothing, “I’m beginning to see such beliefs are ignorant at best.”
“Then why not disregard these beliefs?” Max asked.
“No free will, remember,” Jayden said. “We are limited in our actions. Only those who approach their Fall have leeway in this, and even then, that leeway leads to destruction, so most avoid Tempting themselves by following laid down edicts to the letter if not the spirit.”
Of Alliance and Rebellion Page 12