Salvation: A Realm of Flame and Shadow Novel

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Salvation: A Realm of Flame and Shadow Novel Page 9

by Phillips, Christina


  Sure, there were radicals who wanted to overthrow humans, and the unifying doctrine of the Watchers was a loathing of archangels. But ancient ritual and history aside, countless friendships were formed between the members. Connections that helped them to survive in a world unaware of their existence.

  And if Nate could once more gain entry to the temple of the Watchers, he’d destroy it without a second thought.

  It was a massive relief when their food arrived, and she didn’t need to answer him straight away. Or look at him. But when they were once again alone, there was no excuse not to meet his curious gaze.

  He was clearly still waiting for her response.

  “Hmm.” She hoped she sounded convincingly neutral. Unfortunately, he appeared to require more. “It’s not something you can talk about with just anyone.”

  “Is that the reason your relatives treated you so badly? Because you tried talking to them about things they didn’t understand?”

  She really needed to be more careful what she said to him. Not that it mattered. And he was right.

  In a way.

  “Something like that.” Except the only supernatural race had been her. “I was fourteen when they disowned me.”

  “That’s rough.” He was no longer smiling. “Just because you can see things they can’t?”

  There had been more to it than that. After her mother’s protector had died, his legitimate heir had evicted them from the only home she’d ever known. They’d gone to live with her grandmother and aunt and when they’d tried to pimp her out, to earn her keep, she’d destroyed everything in their house in a wave of telekinetic terror.

  Probably best not to share that with Nate.

  “They were very old-fashioned.” A euphemism, if ever she’d heard one. And only if compared to those living in the twenty-first century. None of her relatives’ contemporaries would have found anything terrible about flinging a brat of Satan into the gutter.

  “They were total pieces of shit,” he said. She blinked. He sounded mad. On her behalf. “No one should turn their back on their own kid.”

  “It happens all the time.”

  “Doesn’t make it right.”

  She took a forkful of her rich stew to keep her mouth occupied. An archangel was the last person she’d expect to care about such issues as parenting. The Watchers’ histories documented archangels’ efforts in that area, and they weren’t a great role model when it came to their own offspring. After all, when Earth had reset her celestial clock millennia ago during the Great Cleansing, they’d fled the planet, leaving their children behind to perish.

  She took a sip of the full-blooded, red wine they’d ordered and cast Nate a surreptitious glance. He had a brooding expression on his face.

  Don’t ask. But she couldn’t help herself. “Do you have any children, Nate?”

  “Gods, no.” He sounded both taken aback by her question and horrified by the possibility. “That’s never going to happen.”

  Now that attitude was more like the history she knew. Unlike demons, archangels had rarely reproduced during their occupation on Earth, and certainly not afterwards.

  Also unlike demons. Their numerous descendants, who knew nothing of their demonic bloodline until they were brought into the fold, was testament to that.

  Not for the first time, unease slithered through her as she considered that fact. The Watchers pushed that distinction between the two races of immortals as being more proof of demon superiority, but she’d never seen what was so great about demons spreading their seed and then ignoring the outcome.

  How different would her own life have been, if her father hadn’t vanished after seducing her mother?

  “How about you?”

  His question thrust her back to the present. Once upon a time, she’d longed for a family of her own. But as she’d told Nate, she no longer believed in fairy tales. She had a different kind of family now, with her friends in the Watchers. “No. I’m committed to my career.”

  “Your nightclubs.”

  It wasn’t a question, and yet she got the distinct feeling he was asking her one.

  “Yes.” She sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him about her role in the Watchers.

  “And Octavia could help you with your minor emergency?”

  She’d forgotten that was what she’d told him earlier today. Although to be fair, it wasn’t a lie. “She helped clarify something for me.”

  “About Inanna.” Again, it wasn’t a question. And yet, it was.

  She resisted the temptation to fidget beneath his scrutiny. She didn’t owe him anything. Not even the truth. She didn’t usually have such a hard time avoiding awkward conversations. Long ago, her survival had depended on her learning to lie with conviction.

  If she didn’t uncover the truth, Eblis believed Earth would become the battleground for ancient immortals. She needed to discover what Nate knew about the sword.

  He’d never share, not even with a human who knew dhampirs walked the Earth. She had to give him more. She had to tell him she was aware of the existence of that weapon.

  It’s too dangerous.

  Yes, it was. She was insane to even consider it. But just being with Nate was a form of madness, anyway.

  “Inanna isn’t my only passion. I also adore antiques and sometimes Octavia can help me source certain items.” Let him think she relied on Octavia’s expertise because she was an immortal and had an impressive network. “But unfortunately, she couldn’t this time.” No way would she put her friend in danger.

  “You came to Romania to ask Octavia about an antique?” There was a faint trace of bafflement in his voice. She couldn’t blame him. It did sound absurd. Who would fly across Europe to ask that kind of question?

  Unless the antique in question was not of this world.

  Was she sure about this? There was still time to change her mind. But once the words were out, there was no turning back.

  Go for it. All she had to lose was her life.

  “Not just an antique.” And Nate wasn’t just an archangel. She was playing with fire, all but daring him to question every aspect of her carefully constructed life. The prospect should horrify her, not send illicit thrills of forbidden anticipation colliding through her blood. Against all the rules of circumspection that she’d lived with for so long, she said the words that could seal her fate. “I believe it’s an immortal forged sword.”

  Chapter 10

  Nate

  Nate stared at the woman opposite him as her careless remark thundered through his brain. Yes, he’d intended to discover why she had come to Romania, and how she knew Octavia. But he’d never expected Isabella to so casually confirm that she knew of the existence of dhampirs, and he sure as hell hadn’t anticipated her tossing an immortal forged sword into the conversation.

  He swallowed the contents of his glass, but the alcohol didn’t help shove his reflexes into gear.

  Her gaze didn’t waver from his as she waited for his response. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in a distracting riot of curls, and her royal blue dress clung to her like a seductive, second skin.

  He took a measured breath and hauled his focus back into line. It was unlikely the sword she spoke of was the one he’d taken from the castle. It was simply coincidence.

  Another one. They seemed to flourish around Isabella. Despite how he didn’t even believe in them.

  “What makes you think this sword was forged by an immortal?”

  For a fleeting second surprise flared in her eyes, as though his reaction wasn’t what she’d expected. “Rumors and speculation, mainly.”

  Right. Some of the tension in his muscles relaxed. The universe was full of rumors and speculation and very little of it meant anything.

  “Nothing tangible, then.”

  “I can’t prove its existence.” She sounded reluctant to admit that. “But it was allegedly used in an assassination attempt on an archangel.”

  What the fuck? Where had she found her
information? The attack on Azrael was known by only a handful of immortals.

  Nic had a spy in his midst.

  He had to reply to her, but he was damned if he knew where to start. “An archangel?”

  “I know. Pretty unbelievable, but that’s the word on the street.”

  On the street? Which fucking street did she hang out on?

  To give himself a few seconds to analyze her comments, he picked up the wine bottle and refilled both their glasses. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long enough for his brain to figure it out.

  He gave up.

  “Who told you this?”

  She shrugged, as though she hadn’t a clue that she’d just knocked his world view off its axis. That’s because she doesn’t have a clue. “I picked up bits and pieces here and there. You know how it is.”

  “The Internet?” If so, he needed to check it out. He’d had no idea Earth’s Internet had evolved to such a degree.

  “You haven’t heard anything about this, then?” Her beautiful eyes were guileless. Her ignorance of the danger she would be in if she pursued her curiosity was terrifying.

  “Why are you interested in it? This isn’t simply a coveted antique to add to your collection.”

  “So you believe me?”

  He resisted the urge to tug at his collar. It was already undone but damn, it was hot in here. He had the surreal sensation Isabella was leading him into a rabbit hole of his own making. But for some warped reason, he couldn’t lie outright to her. “Yes. But that doesn’t mean it’s true.”

  Even though it was.

  “Will you help me search for it?”

  He already knew where it was. And he suspected Astrid had every intention of destroying it. But even if she didn’t, there was no way it would ever return to Earth.

  There was something Isabella wasn’t telling him. It drifted in the air between them, an intangible awareness just beyond his grasp. What was she hiding from him? More to the point, why?

  They’d already established he wasn’t freaked out by the so-called supernatural.

  He could discover the truth easily enough by invading her mind. But that was a tactic he reserved for enemies. Was she being used by Dagan as a human front to hunt down the sword? Whatever the reason, he wasn’t leaving her side until he had Dagan. And the truth.

  Under the guise of searching for this elusive sword.

  “Okay.”

  Her eyes widened. Had she expected him to refuse?

  “You will? That’s… great.”

  “Why did you ask me, if you were so sure I’d say no?”

  She tucked a long curl behind her ear. A striking red and carnelian lion hung from her earlobe. Another symbol of the goddess, Inanna.

  “I hoped you’d say yes, but I wasn’t counting on it. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact you don’t think I’m crazy.”

  “How many other races do you know?”

  “How many do you?”

  He grinned. “Like that, is it?”

  She returned his smile, and it took his breath away. It was the same smile she’d given him last night. He hadn’t realized just how guarded she’d been with him today. But now, it seemed she’d finally forgiven him for staking out her club.

  “How many other races are there?”

  Even he didn’t know the answer to that. Not if she wanted him to include the entire universe. But here on Earth?

  “Fuck knows.”

  She laughed, and shook her head, almost in wonder. “You’re funny.”

  “I’m funny and weird. Not the look I was aiming for.”

  “What were you aiming for?”

  “Irresistible?”

  “I wondered where your ego had gone.”

  The young human who had taken their order came over and took their plates. He waited until they were alone again before leaning across the table. “My ego doesn’t stand a chance around you.”

  She blinked, her long lashes hiding her eyes for a fleeting moment, and her smile faltered. Her gaze turned oddly wary. What the hell had just happened?

  “Where do you think we should start?” Although her eyes were still dark with desire, and voice temptingly husky, he knew she wasn’t talking about sex.

  He wrapped his fingers around her hand. She didn’t protest. “At your club.”

  She stiffened. “Why do you think it would be there?”

  “I don’t, but I think someone who had it was there. Is that a problem?”

  “I guess not.” She hitched in a jagged breath. “Do you want pudding?”

  There was only one thing he needed right now. “I want you.”

  Bella

  “Let’s get out of here.” Her voice was hoarse. If she had any sense, she’d be mortified by how easily Nate could charm his way into her bed. Clearly, her good sense had taken a hike. She hoped it didn’t reappear until morning.

  He held her coat for her, and as she concentrated on fastening the buttons, his thumbs grazed her neck in a sensuous caress. She swallowed, relieved he couldn’t see her face. Sex was one thing, but the truth was brutal. It was more than that. If it was just sex, she could handle it. But it was so much harder to ignore the rush of warmth deep inside whenever he did or said something unexpected.

  Like being pissed off by how her family had treated her. Or the enchanting way he poked fun at himself. Archangels weren’t meant to even know the meaning of self-deprecation. Nate was a revelation in so many ways, and it was killing her that she had to keep reminding herself of his true nature.

  Before she had time to find her card, he had already paid. That made twice in a row. “Next time I’m paying,” she said, as he held open the door for her.

  “Deal.” He slung his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Before she could stop herself, she slid her arm around him. Damn it, he felt so good.

  The temperature had dropped, and the breeze was chilly, but she wasn’t cold. The stars glittered in the frosty night sky and she snuggled closer to Nate as they descended the hill through the covered stairway.

  She pressed her cheek against his shoulder, and his woolen coat was like a soft caress. Tonight, she wouldn’t think of all the reasons why he was the last one on Earth she should be with. Or reflect on all the ways she should be planning to destroy him.

  Tonight, in this beautiful, fairytale village, was for her.

  The village that was in the shadow of a vampire’s castle. A looming reminder, in case she had forgotten, that she didn’t believe in fairytales.

  As they walked along the road to the guesthouse, a group of drunken youths staggered their way. They were loud and made obnoxious comments, clearly oblivious that both she and Nate understood their language.

  It didn’t bother her. She’d faced far worse than lewd jeers in her time.

  Tension vibrated through Nate’s body and she glanced at his face. His expression was lethal. Before she could stop him, his arm shot out and he grabbed the nearest youth by his coat, hiking him into the air. The guy’s toes dangled an inch above the ground and none of his friends appeared inclined to intervene.

  “What did you say?” Nate’s voice was low, but menace radiated from him. Warmth bloomed deep in Bella’s chest. No one had ever defended her honor before. It was strangely touching.

  “Nothing,” the unfortunate human gasped, as he attempted to loosen Nate’s fingers from his coat.

  “Apologize.”

  She didn’t think he was going to comply. The words were clearly lodged in his throat. But then Nate gave him a little shake and the rest of the guy’s bravado vanished.

  “I’m sorry.” His eyes practically rolled back into his head with fear and his friends edged back, apparently mesmerized by how badly their night was going.

  Nate dropped him and the guy landed on his hands and knees, before scrambling to his feet.

  “Get out of here.” Nate swept his gaze across them, and without fail, each one shuddered, before turning tail and disappearing down th
e road. His arm tightened around her. “Are you okay?”

  He sounded concerned. She guessed if she was a regular human woman, she might’ve been shaken up by the encounter. Especially if she’d been on her own. But in the past, she’d broken more than a few bones of misogynistic shitheads who’d thought she was fair game to attack.

  Nate didn’t know that, though. And although his chivalrous behavior shouldn’t give her the warm and fuzzies, she couldn’t help it.

  “I’m fine,” she assured him. “It’s not spoiled the evening.”

  They entered the guesthouse and she held his hand as she led him up the stairs. Once in her room she turned to face him, their fingers still interlocked. She should pounce on him, pin him to the bed. Fill her mind with nothing but hot, sweaty sex. Because that was safer than these unwanted, ethereal feelings that craved a connection with him that could never be.

  His gaze was quizzical. “You can tell me if there’s a problem. It’s not like we’re strangers anymore.”

  Why was he so frustratingly observant? She needed to up her game if she wanted to hide her innermost thoughts from him.

  If I want to survive.

  She had to focus on facts, and not fantasy. “True. I don’t tell most people I meet that my best friend is a dhampir.”

  With infinite care, he unwrapped her scarf and draped it on a chair. Should that feel so seductive? When he proceeded to leisurely unbutton her coat, it was all she could manage not to shiver with heady anticipation.

  “Some time you’ll have to tell me how you and Octavia met.” He slid her coat from her shoulders before dropping a teasing kiss against her neck. Heat washed through her and her eyes drifted shut as she melted into his arms. His teeth grazed her flesh and she could imagine his wicked smile as he left a trail of kisses along her jaw.

  He tossed her coat onto the chair and wound his powerful arms around her. She sank against his rock-hard chest and rested her head against his shoulder as his lips teased the tender skin behind her ear. Why had she never known how irresistibly erotic that was?

 

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