“Right.” He guessed this was his cue to leave. “Want me to give you a lift to the airport?” It would be easy enough to hire a car for the purpose. It would be even easier if he could just teleport them both to London.
“What time’s your flight? Or are you staying here for a little longer?”
Fuck. How many flights to London were there from here on a Sunday? He had no idea. He hoped Isabella didn’t, either. “Later today.”
“Well, it’s a bit much expecting you to drive me all the way to the airport and then hang around for hours.” She gave his wrist a gentle squeeze. “Thanks for the offer. I’ll get a taxi.”
“Sure.” He leaned back against the headboard and watched her leave the bed. His mouth dried at the sight of her gorgeous ass and long legs. Any delusion that last night had tempered his lust for her evaporated like snow in the path of a volcano. She pulled on a sweater before turning to face him.
“So, anyway.” She folded her arms. Was she nervous? The prospect jolted him. What had changed between them? “I should probably tell you that I’ve a business trip on Tuesday. So I won’t be around for a few days.”
He ignored the flare of disappointment that burned through him. Because, seriously. “No problem. It’ll give me some time to research that sword you’re after.”
Or, rather, to find out how such information had leaked into the human interwebs.
“Yes.” There was an oddly doubtful note in her voice. “Thanks. I’ll call you when I get back home.”
“Here’s an idea.” Do not fucking say it. Yet again, he ignored the voice of reason. “I could come with you.”
She gazed at him, and he couldn’t figure out the expression on her face. A strange combination of bafflement and wistful hope. “I’d actually love that.” She cleared her throat and shook her head, as though waking from a daze. “But these people are…” she hesitated, and a frown creased her brow. “It wouldn’t go down well.” She sighed. “It’s an intense, confidential thing. I can’t even really talk about it.”
Interesting. What part of her business could be that secretive? It wasn’t as though he’d planned on attending the meetings with her. “In that case, we’ll catch up when you get back.”
She turned away from him, and her hair fell across her face as she bent to retrieve her dress from the floor. The rich blue looked so damn good against her skin and he shifted on the bed, in a vain attempt to ease the pressure between his thighs.
It didn’t work. He had the feeling he was going to be fantasizing about Isabella wearing that provocative dress all week.
She straightened and caught his hot gaze. “You’re very distracting.”
“Not as distracting as you.”
“Are you sure we’re going to be able to work together without wanting to jump into bed every five minutes?”
“Only every five minutes?”
She shook her head. “This is going to end so badly.”
“No, it won’t.” An uneasy possibility crawled through his mind. Not unless she fell for him. But what were the chances of that, when his archangelic radiance had no effect on her?
“Not everything always goes to plan.” She avoided looking at him, instead draping her dress onto the end of the bed. “Are you any closer to finding the one who attacked your friend?”
She stroked her hand over the royal blue material. It was an innocent gesture, but he found it way too sensuous as he recalled how the soft silk had felt beneath his fingers, and the way it had hugged her beautiful body.
An unformed sense of unease flickered. It was an odd choice to pack for an overnight trip when she had only flown to Romania to see Octavia.
What was he thinking? It had nothing to do with him. She could wear whatever she liked. Except something seemed off kilter. That dress was the kind of thing a woman wore when she had seduction on her mind.
“Nate?” She tilted her head. “Are you okay?”
No, he wasn’t. The longer he spent in her company, the more fried his brain became. There was no way he’d tell her that.
He flung back the bedcover and left the bed. Her glance dropped to his far from disinterested cock, and she swallowed.
“I’m fine.” His voice was a low growl, and he captured her face between his hands before kissing her tempting lips. Her palms caressed his biceps and shoulders, and her cashmere sweater was an erotic whisper across his skin. It physically hurt to pull back.
His breath rasped, burning his chest. She clung onto him as though she didn’t want him to leave, but if he didn’t go now, he’d pull her back onto the bed and there was no way she’d catch her flight.
Altruism be damned. It had nothing to do with her missing her flight. He had to walk out. To prove that he could.
Her hands slid down his arms and she stepped back. There was an enigmatic smile on her face, as though she knew of the battle that raged within him. He grabbed his clothes and the incongruity of an archangel fighting the attraction for a mere human rattled his senses.
It was almost funny.
A reluctant grin twisted his lips. It was funny. But that didn’t mean he had to let it rule him. As he pulled on his shirt, he forced his mind to more mundane matters. “I’ll be in touch before you leave. To let you know how things are progressing.”
Discovering why Dagan was using Inanna as a base was his number one priority. Until he did, Isabella was in danger. He’d pledged to protect her, and he didn’t break his word.
* * *
An hour later, Nate teleported to a country lane in Cornwall, and ran his gaze over the large stone house. It was a short distance from the nearest village, set in its own uncultivated grounds with several magnificent magnolia trees in full bloom of white and pink. Since the attack, Azrael hadn’t been able to teleport, and had declined Nate’s offer to take him back home to an obscure planet in Andromeda III. He’d wanted to stay on Earth and was recuperating in the country.
With the dhampir who had stolen his heart. Rowan.
He wasn’t looking forward to meeting her again. He’d misjudged her, believing that she was Sakarbaal’s spy, sent to bring Az down. When in fact, she’d been just as much of a victim of the vampire as Az.
Hey Az. You at home in that country house?
Not that Az would be anywhere else. He’d temporarily lost the ability to cloak his wings in a glamour, so he could hardly go out for a stroll around the village. At least, Nate assumed it was only temporary. But this was the address Az had given him, in case of emergency.
And this was an emergency.
Yes. Azrael’s reply was cautious. What’s up?
Nate strode up the path to the front door and rapped on it. It was one thing teleporting directly into another archangel’s residence when they were alone. But not when they’d found their soulmate.
Strange. In Ama-gi, many archangels had fallen in love. But that was so long ago, and he’d severed contact with so many. Of those he still saw with any frequency, not one had fallen in millennia.
Most of them had learned their lesson, back then. It wasn’t worth the heartache.
Not that Az had ever fallen. Nate was still processing the fact that he had, now.
The door swung open.
Holy fucking goddess. It wasn’t Az standing there. Was that…
“Gabe?”
“Long time, Nate.” The Archangel Gabriel shrugged.
That was an understatement. They hadn’t seen each other since Ama-gi had been destroyed and Gabe had rampaged through the devastated Earth, searching for his beloved and their child.
Yet there was something different about Gabe. It had nothing to do with the passage of time. It was fundamental, something elusive, just beyond the reach of his senses. And he could hardly ask, considering how long it had been since they’d last spoken. Although it seemed that Az had kept in contact, throughout millennia, since he was staying here.
“You live on Earth?”
“I do.” There was a wary note in Gab
e’s voice that sent a shiver of presentiment along his spine. “You might as well hear it from me. I’m no longer immortal.”
Nate froze. No longer immortal? But that made no sense. Archangels were immortal. There was no getting around that fact. At least, not that he’d ever discovered. Yet it explained the strange sense of otherness he’d felt from him. What the hell had Gabe done?
Before he could get his scrambled brain into gear to question Gabe, Azrael entered the hall and walked over to them.
Nate only just managed not to flinch at the sight of Az’s damaged wing. At least it wasn’t still gushing blood.
“I didn’t expect you to turn up here.” Az sounded wary. Was it because he knew Nate hadn’t seen Gabe in so long? But they had never fallen out, not the way he had with some of the other archangels in the aftermath. He and Gabe had simply drifted apart.
“There’s been a development.” He glanced at Gabe. How much did he know? How the fuck did he lose his immortality?
“I can leave, if you want me to.” There was a sardonic note in Gabe’s voice.
“If you’re talking about what happened in Sakarbaal’s castle, I’ve told Gabe everything.”
Nate guessed that was inevitable, considering the state of Az’s wing. He and Gabe were obviously good friends. It was just odd Az had never mentioned it to him. He’d assumed that, like him, there were many archangels Az was no longer in contact with, but his assumption was wrong.
“Either way,” Gabe said. “Come in so I can shut the door.”
This was so fucking weird. Gingerly, he stepped over the threshold and Gabe pushed the door shut behind him. He glanced around the large, square hall, with its flagstone floor and central staircase.
It all felt very human.
“We can talk in my office.” Gabe led the way across the hall and into a room with French doors that looked out into the back garden. The walls were lined with books and there were a couple of desks with laptops that definitely did not look human made.
Az gave him a probing look. “Have you discovered how Sakarbaal got hold of an immortal forged sword?”
“Not yet. Although I have my suspicions.” He wasn’t going to divulge the sword had been created by Astrid. Not yet, anyway. “Octavia’s team found something in his lab. She’s analyzing it, but she’s never come across anything like it before. Nic wants to know if you have.”
Instinctively, he braced himself as he retrieved the cylindrical case from his coat pocket. Even through the steel, his fingertips reacted to the malevolence within. He almost thrust the thing at Az, so he didn’t have to touch it anymore, but instead he gritted his teeth and twisted off the lid.
As he tipped the phial onto his palm, both Az and Gabe sucked in harsh breaths. And not just of repugnance.
They both recognized this substance.
He should have worn a glove. Since neither Az nor Gabe appeared inclined to take the phial from him, he placed it on the end of one of the desks and flexed his numb fingers.
“How much more of this fucking stuff is here?” Gabe demanded. “It doesn’t belong in our universe.”
Right. That had been Octavia’s reaction, too. “What is it?”
Gabe glared at him. Ancient horror glowed in his eyes, and a chill soaked through Nate’s soul. What the fuck had happened?
“It’s from the atmosphere in the Guardians’ Voids.”
“The Guardians?” Nate double checked, because the Guardians were freakish little shits that existed in the Dark Matter between galaxies. As far as he knew, they didn’t live on any of the planets in the universe although they did have an abhorrent habit of abducting random mortals for reasons that could only be guessed at.
Az took a clearly reluctant step closer to the desk, his eyes fixed on the phial. “Sakarbaal ordered Rowan to inject me with this poison, to incapacitate me so he could strike a killing blow.” His gaze caught Nate’s, and there was the same remnant of horror that had haunted Gabe’s eyes. “How much of this did they find at the castle?”
“Not much.” Although, by the sound of it, more than enough. “What have you done with the stuff Rowan had?”
Az and Gabe exchanged a look. “Aurora’s analyzing it.”
Who the fuck was Aurora?
“But she’s not getting far.” Gabe heaved a frustrated sigh. “The Guardians’ atmosphere is alien to our universe. We don’t know what the components are.”
“Which means we’re waiting to hear back from Mephisto.”
This just kept on getting better. Mephisto was the first archangel their Alpha Goddess had created and undisputedly her favorite. He’d not heard that name in millennia. And he didn’t want to hear it now.
Except he didn’t have a choice.
“Mephisto’s working on this with you?”
“We passed it onto him a couple of days ago.” Az said. “According to Gabe, Mephisto negotiates with the Guardians. Whatever the fuck that means.”
He could believe anything of Mephisto, after the way he’d betrayed them all to their goddess, in those last days in Ama-gi.
His jaw tightened. He couldn’t think of that now. He tried not to think of it at all, but the memory flashed across his mind, regardless.
In the aftermath of the great destruction, while Earth burned, he’d witnessed the apocalyptic meeting between their goddess and Mephisto. The pair of them standing together, as though everything was fine.
It was the last time he had seen either of them. And later, when Mephisto had attempted contact, he’d blocked the bastard.
Whatever the hell was going on, it was serious.
Chapter 13
Bella
It was mid-morning when Bella teleported home to Richmond upon Thames. After checking out of the guesthouse in Romania she’d found a deserted ally. It was easier to vanish from a small village rather than go to the inconvenience of getting a taxi to the airport, when she had no intention of catching a plane back to England.
In her bedroom, she hung her coat in the antique mahogany wardrobe that matched her dressing table with its satinwood banded decoration. She’d spent three years searching markets, online, and antique shops for a perfect match and her bedroom was exactly the way she’d envisioned it from the moment she had first seen the house. From its stripped floorboards to the meticulously restored fireplace, it was Edwardian elegance at its finest.
It was her home. And unlike when she was a child, and her security had been ripped out from beneath her feet, no one was going to take this from her.
She sighed, forked her fingers through her hair and peered at her reflection in her dressing table’s oval beveled mirror. If she wanted to continuing enjoying the life she’d carved out for herself, why was she getting involved with Nate?
She should have severed all contact as soon as she found out who he was.
A groan escaped. She was in such deep shit. Last night, it had seemed like a great idea to see how far she could go in letting Nate know she wasn’t as ignorant of the world as he supposed.
But where had it really got her? He hadn’t divulged any secrets. All she’d done was sink deeper within his irresistible web.
Although he hadn’t admitted to taking the immortal forged sword—not that she’d expected him too—he had promised to help her find it. Which was intriguing since not for a second did she imagine he’d ever let her get her hands on that.
Enough. She had work to do. One of the jobs she undertook for the Watchers was overseeing the progress of potential new members, from when they were first introduced to their new world until they were formally accepted into the fold. With the annual convention in a couple of days, she could guarantee her Watchers email was overflowing with messages from new recruits, anxious about all the arrangements.
She hauled out her laptop and logged in. Honestly, if the new members just took the time to read their introductory package that she’d put together for them, most of their questions were answered. They didn’t need to worry about airp
ort security. For the forty-eight hours during which members arrived, everything was taken care of. Including monitoring all CCTV coverage so any problems could be erased from the digital records. No one would be stopped, searched, have their passports questioned, or luggage confiscated.
It was an impressive operation which involved a combination of demon blood abilities and having strategic members situated in positions of power.
A couple of hours later, after dealing with the last frantic enquiry, she went downstairs and into the kitchen. A cast iron range cooker, that she’d salvaged from a tip and spent a fortune restoring to its former glory, stood against one wall, and although the rest of the kitchen was modern, it had all been hand made to her specific requirements for an uncluttered, sleek feel.
She loved it.
As she made herself some lunch, her phone rang. For a crazy second, she imagined it was Nate calling her.
It wasn’t.
“Hey, Octavia.”
“Still alive, then.” It wasn’t a question.
Since the door they had kept close by mutual, unspoken agreement throughout their friendship had been well and truly blown open, she might as well ask the question. “Do you know any other archangels?”
“No. Like I told you before, Nate’s been around for ages, but he doesn’t often visit the Echelon. I only met Azrael last week, but that was mainly because of Rowan.”
Bella frowned. “I don’t know who Rowan is.”
“She’s a dhampir.” There was a reluctant note in Octavia’s voice. “That information isn’t classified, but I can’t tell you anything else.”
She took a sip of her chamomile tea while she processed that. Was Octavia inferring that Azrael, slayer of dhampirs, was now involved with one?
It didn’t seem likely.
“Okay. Well, thanks for checking up on me.” She was joking, but a dark undercurrent slithered through her mind. Because, like it or not, her friend was right to be concerned. Archangels answered to no one. If Nate decided to terminate her, he could erase all evidence of her entire existence.
Salvation: A Realm of Flame and Shadow Novel Page 11