Hunger (Witches of the Big Easy Book 2)

by Ts McKinney

  “I also told him to go to my compound,” Julian said. “Maybe he went there.”

  “He would have come here first, Julian,” I argued. “He hasn’t been here. I’d sense it if he had.” I looked at Marchand’s sire. “They have him.”

  The angel’s wings disappeared into his back. “They won’t have him long, witch. I promise you that. We’ll retrieve him before Ariel is able to take him to the demon world. I’ve lived only to ensure Marchand’s safety. I won’t fall short now,” he vowed.

  “We need to go now—before it’s too late!” The thought of losing Marchand was too much for me to handle.

  “No, we need to allow the three of you to regain your strength and gather some weapons. You’d be useless to me in battle in your weakened state.” He walked over and gazed out the window that overlooked the Quarter. “Luckily, there are only a few portal locations where they can return to their world. Since this hotel is sitting on one of them, I doubt they’ll try using this one.” He cocked a brow at me. “You knew this, yes?”

  “Yes, of course,” I answered. “It was one of the reasons we built the hotel where we did—to protect the door.”

  “You call it ‘protect it’,” he countered with a shrug. “Others call it controlling it. I could care less which it is as long as it benefits me and, in this case, it benefits me. The next closest portal is in San Antonio. When they try to move him, I’ll know it.” His gaze leveled on Julian. “You and your lover should feel it, as well as we do. Be alert.”

  “So that’s it?” I shouted. “We’re just going to sit here? Drink sodas while they might be torturing him? I don’t think so.” I headed toward the door but the angel stepped in front of me, pushing his hand against the center of my chest.

  “We will wait,” he growled. “You will replenish your magic and gather your weapons.” He looked toward Julian and Valen. “Go. Feed. Do it quickly. We must prepare. If you love Marchand the way you say you do, then get ready for the fight of your lives.”

  *****

  It had been less than an hour, but Julian and Valen returned. I’d spent the time stealing energy from the ether and the four elements: air, fire, earth, and water. As I handled each, I felt the magic grow deep in my core and then spread throughout my body. Afterward I went into my walk-in closet and into the large vault I kept there for emergencies. It contained ancient weapons, books and the trappings of the Church against evil—holy water, holy medals and crucifixes. The angel, for his part, remained silent but was aware of my every move.

  As soon as Julian entered, he asked, “Have you sensed anything?”

  “I’ve felt nothing,” Julian whispered. “It’s like before—the link has vanished.”

  I jumped to my feet.

  “Calm yourself! This only means that Ariel has a witch working with him—they are cloaking him again. He’ll be able to break through the spell before long; he’s much more powerful than they realize. Give him time and have faith.” He sat on the end of one of my couches and said, “I would assume you all have questions. I have answers. Who wants to go first?”

  “Am I his sire?” Julian jumped ahead of me. “I feel that our blood is linked, but it’s different than with any other child I’ve created.”

  “First, I’m Azazel. As I’m sure you’ve all guessed—I’ve fallen. I was an archangel once but I remained in this realm too long. Because of that, I lost my status as a saintly angel. Since I was here to find and protect Marchand, I’m more than fine with my fallen status.”

  “You haven’t done much protecting it seems to me!” Julian sneered at him.

  “I have to agree,” I said. “Where were you when he was manipulated and violated by those fucking warlocks?”

  He turned his attention back to me. “Actually, I was…how should I phrase this? I was incarcerated, in a way. I think that’s the best way I can describe it. I tried to steal the Staff of Moses from Heaven and I was discovered. And punished. I only just managed to escape.”

  “You tried to steal what? What’s the Staff of Moses and why is an Angel trying to steal it?”

  “It’s a religious artifact and very ancient and holy. The warlocks who were hiding Marchand until I could come back for him, demanded it in payment. Any religious artifact, especially one so revered, has enormous power they wanted to tap into. When I wasn’t able to return for him, they apparently decided to use Marchand himself.”

  “Where do I come into this?” Julian demanded.

  He looked back at him. “You are his sire, but not in the way you are thinking. Centuries ago you took a female lover named March.”

  Julian interrupted with a wave of his head. “Vampires can’t have children. Weave a different tale.”

  The angel frowned. “Don’t interrupt me. March, your female lover, was my sister and an angel. Together, the two of you did conceive a child. You might not be able to procreate with a human, but anything is possible with a celestial being.”

  “You mean like a Nephilim?” Valen asked.

  A sad look crossed Azazel’s face. “No, a Nephilim is the offspring of the sons of God and the daughters of men, just like it says in the Bible. My sister was an angel. She came to Earth out of curiosity and met you. She fell in love—surely you remember her?”

  Julian frowned. “Was? Is she…dead?”

  “Yes. She died many years ago, having Marchand.”

  Julian grew even paler and Valens touched his arm. “I’m sorry, my love. You remember her, don’t you?”

  He shook his head sadly. “No, I regret to say I don’t.” He gazed over at the Angel. “I’m sorry. In my younger days the bloodlust overwhelmed me easily. I would sometimes go through a hundred women in one night.”

  “What punishment were you talking about from this Angel Master?” I asked, not liking the direction the story seemed to be going.

  The Angel Master views sex between a celestial being and a dark creature to be a sinful abomination. For that, he doles out punishment.”

  Fury burned through me. The thoughts of anyone harming Marchand made my magic sizzle. Even more than that, though, it made my heart ache. My entire life had been about magic, being the best witch and Législateur I could be, and making my family proud of my abilities. Suddenly, none of that mattered—only Marchand.

  “What the fuck did they do to him?” I growled.

  “My sister refused to allow the Angel Master to terminate the pregnancy. Being an angel, she could only survive the birthing process if he intervened.” He looked toward Julian. “He didn’t. She died bringing the baby you created with her into our heavenly realm. Before she did, she made me promise to look after Marchand and to one day make sure he knew you.”

  A tear slipped down the Angel’s cheek. “I tried to protect him. I had no idea what the Angel Master had planned for him—to make an example out of my sister’s supposed transgression. I think he was in love with March himself and viewed her transgression with Julian and the child that resulted from it as a way to get his revenge for being rebuffed. Most angels would consider it an honor to be chosen by the master, his ranking even higher than the archangels, but March wanted nothing to do with him.”

  I saw realization dawn on Julien’s face. “He gave my child to the Demon Master, didn’t he? As a fucking pet?” Both Julian and Valen’s eyes glowed red. Blood tears dripped down Julian’s face. “He was an innocent! Why punish him? Hell, why punish anybody?”

  “It’s his way. We don’t have to like it, but you have to abide by the rules if you expect to remain in the heavenly realm…or live. He gave Marchand to the Demon Master on Marchand’s twentieth birthday. I was in a different realm, fighting against dark fairies and had no idea what was taking place. I’m certain he’d planned it that way. When I arrived home, expecting a victory celebration, I found that a legion of emissary angels had already left, escorting Marchand to the portal to hand him over. I left immediately and attacked the group—thankfully they weren’t warrior angels, or I wouldn’t have
been able to defeat all of them.”

  “What the fuck?” I said in disbelief. We didn’t answer to the heavenly realm’s Angel Master, but I’d heard of him and had never felt any ill will toward him. That shit just flew out the window. I was going to find a way to end him.

  “In an attempt to hide him, I worked with some warlocks and a voodoo priestess to help subdue him while they cast the spell that would cloak him while he remained in a deep sleep…until I could come up with a better plan.” He shook his head and his wing unfurled and fluttered. “I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sure many would consider him a man at that age, but I’d still looked at him as my sister’s child. I would, then and now, do anything to protect him. I’d honestly hoped that if he disappeared long enough, the Master Angel and Demon Master would finally stop looking. I underestimated the master’s hatred for my sister’s sin and the Demon Master’s obsession with Marchand. And the warlocks and priestess were a problem too. They demanded payment. The Staff of Moses I mentioned. And I told you what happened with that.”

  The fluff of his wings turned to blades. “A younger generation of warlocks found out about Marchand’s existence and while they didn’t know exactly what he was, they knew he was powerful. They didn’t want to wait for my return, so they double-crossed me and woke him up on their own. Thanks to the ones who destroyed them.” Azazel looked toward Julian, “That’s why you sensed him a century ago, Julian—why you were drawn to New Orleans. He’d just entered this realm and your connection to him was immediate. Once the warlocks cloaked him, the connection vanished.”

  Julian stalked toward the fallen angel. “Why in the fuck didn’t you find me, to allow me the opportunity to help protect my own child?”

  Azazel’s wings fluttered angrily. “Well, excuse me, vampire lord, but I was a bit busy, fighting demons and all that. The Demon Master has searched diligently for my nephew over the past century. I’ve done everything possible to send them in every direction other than New Orleans. They followed me and fought me. While I was away, the new warlocks awakened him and then cloaked him with their own spells. I wasn’t aware of his vulnerability until, like you, Gabriel helped him escape. Once he was out of their clutches, the cloaking spell weakened.” He looked toward me. “Then the Législateur cloaked him.” He threw up his hands. “It’s a never-ending battle trying to keep him safe from those who are drawn to him and wish to do him harm.”

  “Now he has all of us supporting him,” Valen said. “After what I just witnessed you do to the demons, I think we can handle whatever they throw our way.”

  “And we know that neither the Angel Master nor Demon Master won’t leave their realms, so it will always be soldiers that come to attack him.”

  “Soldiers, we can handle,” I agreed. “Your wings are black. Is that because you’re fallen?”

  He nodded. “Not only did I disobey a direct order by my master, but I stayed away from the heavenly realm too long. My fiery red wings turned black, but my powers strengthened.”

  “Red? For some stupid reason, I thought angels had white wings.” Feeling like a fool, I added, “Fuck, I’m no better than the mortals who think witches are female, green, and fly on brooms.”

  “The color of an angel’s wings reveals their status in the realm. There are soldiers, warriors, lovers, emissaries, healers…which is what my sister was. Healers have blue wings.” He turned to look at Julian. Marchand received the red of your vampire blood and the blue of March’s wings.” He smiled softly. “It’s where the lavender hair and eyes come from, I suppose.”

  “Does Marchand have wings?” I couldn’t have stopped the question if my life had depended on it. An image of Marchand with sexy wings popped into my head.

  Azazel shook his head. “Not when I was with him last, though it isn’t out of the question that they might appear once all his gifts have been revealed. I hope he does; it’s just one more way for him to protect himself against those who wish to him or use him.”

  Julian slammed his fist on the table, displaying the same anger I was trying to hold in. “Why won’t he reach out to me? The bond should link us!”

  “He’s still alive, Julian,” Azazel answered. “He’s too strong for them to kill.” His eyes drifted toward me. “He’s in love with the little witch. He won’t let them take him away from Gabriel.”

  My eyes narrowed. The bastard had made it perfectly clear he didn’t approve of me as a lover for Marchand but he could go fuck himself. I didn’t have to impress him and didn’t intend to even try. If I didn’t realize we needed him so fucking bad, I’d show him the door. Little witch, my ass.

  Standing up, I said, “I’ve waited long enough.”

  “We can’t find him. They have him cloaked. We have to count on him to break the spell,” Azazel argued. “Have faith in him.”

  I growled. “I have faith in Marchand. I also have faith in my own abilities. I’ll find him.” I started to leave the room to grab what I would need for a scrying spell but then hesitated. It wasn’t something I’d ever been able to do before, but something told me that my connection with Marchand would be enough. I dropped to my knees, rummaged through the backpack I’d carried earlier, and grabbed one of the vials of Marchand’s blood that we’d retrieved from Dominic’s apartment. Clutching it to my chest, I closed my eyes and reached deep within my magic. Within a second, the vial started to grow warm and I felt my soul leave my body. When I opened my eyes, I was floating above Julian, Valen, Azazel…and my physical body was lying on the floor. Shit, this was definitely above and beyond my usual abilities.

  I floated, totally useless, until I felt the tiniest caress against my cheek. Marchand’s voice whispered in my ear and then images of the Quarter flew by as I careened, very ungracefully, through the air. I felt Marchand’s touch, heard his whispers, and let it guide me the best I could. Since I had no concept of time, I had no idea how long I’d been away from my body before he led me to an old textile mill that looked like it had been converted into a huge apartment. With one sniff of the air, I knew Marchand was inside.

  I noted the address…and then tried to figure out how the fuck to return to my body. Inside my head, I heard Marchand’s soft laughter, and it was weak. He was injured or frightened. Yeah, my soul figured how to return to my body real damn fast when I felt his fear. I felt myself crashing back in. When my eyes opened, Valen had me in his arms while Julian and Azazel stood over me, looking terrified.

  “I know where he is!” I shouted as I sprang to my feet. Naturally, I hit the floor about as quickly as I’d left it. I’d zapped my physical and magical energy in my quest to find Marchand. The room was spinning. My stomach was queasy. None of that mattered, though. We had to get to him. As I struggled to my feet, I looked out the wall of windows. It was pitch black outside. Fuck, it hadn’t been when I’d started my tracking spell.

  Jerking my head to Julian, I asked, “How long was I out?”

  “Three hours. Where is he? You said you found him. We must get to him now. I feel him trying to link our connection together but he’s too weak and getting weaker with each minute.”

  Fuck…three hours? How much had he suffered as I’d struggled to find him? Had he given up hope? Looking to Azazel, I asked, “He’s still in this realm, isn’t he? Tell me I’m not too late.”

  “No, little witch,” he answered slowly. “You did well. Very well. The demons are keeping him too weak to reach out to Julian, so they won’t be ready for an assault from us.” He blessed me with his first smile. “Thank you. Marchand has chosen well. I always knew he would.”

  I struggled to my feet. “You did a fine damn job of hiding your support of his choice,” I snapped, but for the first time, hope blossomed in my chest. I’d found him and Azazel believed we would be able to surprise them with our attack. Things were turning in our direction.

  And…just like that, they weren’t. The moment I gained my balance, a piece of parchment magically appeared in the air and dropped to the floor in
front of me. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It was from Nic. This couldn’t be good. Bending over, I grabbed the paper and read the message.

  I studied the words in disbelief. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. My whole fucking life had been spent in the service of the Législateurs.

  “What does it say?” Julian asked, his voice harsh and angry. It was as if he already knew.

  “My brother is revoking my additional Législateur magic. Effective immediately.” Even speaking the words aloud made me feel weaker. Pain clutched my chest, causing me to double over and then drop to my knees. I felt the magic leave my body. My body fought it, but Nic’s magic was too strong to overcome. Tears streaked my face by the time the last of my extra magic disappeared. “It’s gone. I’m useless to Marchand now.” Without a shred of pride, I grabbed Julian’s pant leg and begged, “Please save him, Julian. I’m too weak. Don’t let the Demon Master have him. He’s so scared.”

  “Bloody fucking Législateurs,” Azazel muttered. “They are nothing more than a bunch of self-righteous fucking hypocrites. They have to control everything. Why? Why did your brother steal your magic?” he demanded.

  I hated myself. I hated my brothers and my family. I questioned every damn thing I’d always felt to be the truth. “He didn’t steal it; it was the family’s to begin with. They’ve taken it back because I’m consorting with vampires. He said in the letter that he felt it through our link and he thinks I’ve been turned. He said he senses darkness around me. Ironic, huh? No questions. No opportunity to explain to him. Nothing.”

  Azazel straightened. “How would you have explained it, little witch? How would you have defended working with Darkness…that’s what you call Marchand, isn’t it? Darkness?”

  There was an ugly sneer on his face. Any ground we might have gained was just lost. What if he wouldn’t help rescue Marchand?

  Straightening my back, I answered, “I wouldn’t have defended my relationship with Marchand. I would have bargained or begged for more time, but, believe me or not, I would have ended up telling him to go fuck himself if he wanted me to choose between the family and Marchand. No magic, no matter how powerful, would be worth losing him.” Glowering at him, I added, “I called him Darkness as a form of affection. Don’t turn my fucking words against me!”