Watcher Exposed: Dark Angels Paranormal Romance (Watchers of the Gray Book 8)

by JL Madore

  Like a switch being flipped in his body, his mind cleared, and his beast retreated. “Austin?” he said, coming back to himself again. He pulled out of her heat and sat on the pantry floor, his back resting against a bag of rice the size of Texas.

  He studied his mate, the gloss of her skin, the red marks, her shredded blouse. Christ, she had blood on her fingers. “What the hell did I do?”

  Austin grabbed a tea towel off the shelf beside her. “Nothing either one of us regrets. The more important question is, why were you driven to do it?”

  That was a better question.

  Needing something to do before he lost his mind, he took the cloth from her hands and started cleaning her. “I’m sorry, cowgirl. I don’t know what happened.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Regardless of the why, that was amazing. You’re outta luck later, though, so bedtime is all about jammies and a Romcom.”

  He finished cleaning her and kissed her lips. “What triggered Jackson?”

  “Oh, that was Tanek. He said something about an emergency with Michael. When he couldn’t get your attention, he spoke to me. Your beast didn’t like that at all.”

  He wiped himself off, pulled on his pants, and gave Austin his shirt. “All right, you head upstairs and take care of you. I’ll go see what fire he’s trying to put out now.”

  He pulled her against his chest. Whatever had possessed him, between the sex and Jackson’s arrival, he seemed to have overcome it. “I love you, cowgirl.”

  She snorted. “That was well-established.”

  Tanek stormed down the stairs, cursing every one of his stupid brothers. No. Not every one. Ringo was the exception—and it was Ringo he was doing a piss-poor job of helping. Stuck on this fucking property, he couldn’t follow those assholes when they’d taken the kid. Zander and Seth had no interest in taking a break from their grinding to care that their brother had been kidnapped. Maybe he could get through to Danel or Hark down in the tunnel.

  Or Ren. That Cherub was sent by Lady Divinity specifically to tend to the boy. Maybe she could access the heavens and find out what was going on.

  Zander strode up the corridor toward the foyer, bare-chested and cat scratched to shit. Man, he hated knowing the deets of his brothers’ sex lives. He avoided eye contact with Austin as she climbed the stairs and passed him.

  Man, he didn’t want to know that their cowgirl was a hellcat in the throes of passion. TMI, people!

  Zander waited until his beloved went up the hall on the second floor before getting into it. “All right, T, what’s the big emergency?”

  “Michael popped in for a visit while you were stuck in fuck mode. He took Ringo.”

  “What the fuck do you mean, he took him?”

  Tanek threw up his hands. “I don’t know, asshole. Is there a translation of it that I’m missing? He. Took. Him.”

  “And you let them?”

  “What was I supposed to do?”

  “If you have to ask, you aren’t the man you used to be.”

  “Zander!” Austin said, returning to the railing above with Niobi in her arms.

  He cursed the disappointment in her eyes, but worse was the defeat in Tanek’s.

  “Yeah, well, he’s not wrong, cowgirl.”

  Tanek dropped through the floor and left Zander standing in the empty foyer, his lungs filled with lead. “Fuuuuuuck!”

  “Fuck,” Niobi said, smiling down at him.

  Austin pegged him with a glare so piercing, he’d swear his balls crawled right up and inside him. “No, no, baby. Play farm sounds with Mama. What does a cow say?”

  “Fuck,” Nio repeated.

  “Unbelievable.” Austin shot him another scathing glare and stomped off toward their suite.

  Nice. Zander caught sight of himself in the foyer mirror and cursed what his daughter saw when she looked at him: his mark glowing, his tats lit up, his flesh scratched to hell.

  This was why he shouldn’t be trusted with precious things, because way down deep, he was nothing but the foul-mouthed thug he was bred to be. Well, the Choir had a rude awakening in store if the higher-ups thought they could highjack Ringo and turn their little brother into Nephilim 2.0.

  Danel. He needed D on this.

  Jogging down the stairs, he pretended not to hear whatever was doin’ in the change room and kept his boots moving.

  “Good,” Storme said, rounding the corner across from the garage and offering him a little plastic cup filled with a gelatinous blue concoction. “Drink this.”

  He didn’t even bother to argue. Everything he said and did was wrong anyway. Made sense to let other people hold the reins for a change. Tipping it back, he let the contents wash down his throat. “Okay, I give, why are we doing Jell-O shots when the sky is falling?”

  “Give it a second,” she said, handing another to Phoenix, who looked less than thrilled to be heading into the garage.

  Zander was about to warn Phoenix that Danel and Ronnie were in there when something massive fizzled within his body. It exploded in his guts and spread like an electrical current crackling its way out in every direction. The effect jolted through him, and suddenly, his mind cleared and a film peeled away. “What the hell?”

  “Good, you’re back,” Storme said, handing him another, and pointing to the change room. “Hark’s in there. You’re up.”

  He was about to argue when the Persian let off a string of cursing that would make the Dark Prince blush. “Get the fuck out, Egyptian.”

  “You need to drink that, Danel,” Storme yelled over her shoulder. “Ronnie, make sure he does.”

  “Ha!” Zander said, unable to stop himself. “Not so fun being on the receiving end of a sexual walk-in, is it, Persian?”

  “Fuck you, Zander.”

  Storme pointed up the hall toward the change room. “Go. You’ve all been bespelled somehow. If you want the sextatholon obsession to pass, everyone needs to suck it up and suck this back.”

  “Fine. I’ve got this. Hell, it won’t even be the worst part of my night.” He strode over to the door and knocked. Thankfully, Hark hadn’t mated or transitioned, so he’d at least be reasonable. “Yo, Taharqa. I need you at the crack of the door, my brother. I have no interest in what’s what in there, but Storme says we’re witch-whammied and you gotta suck back the cure.”

  After a moment, the door opened a crack, and Zander shoved his delivery through the narrow opening. “Ren, make sure he drinks it, please.”

  There was a brief pause, then, “Yeah, he did.”

  “Perfect,” he said, rubbing a hand over the pounding taking root in his frontal lobe. “Everyone, pull your shit together. We’ve got trouble of the white suit variety, and it affects all of us. Family meeting in five.”

  “What about Brennus, Bo, and Kyrian?” Storme asked, holding up her little tray of party favors.

  “Shit. Okay, Danel, Hark, and I will start brainstorming upstairs. Phoenix, you find your twin and the two of you make the house calls. Back here ASAP.”

  “What’s the issue?” Hark pulled his workout shorts on, exiting the change room. “What do Archangels have to do with witches?”

  “Nothing to do with the witches. That’s a different heap of steaming shit entirely.” Zander dreaded the words he needed to say, but spit them out anyway. “The Archangel issue is Ringo. The chief asshole drafted him early and took him.”

  Yep. The looks on their faces pretty much summed it up.

  Ren didn’t know what to say. Looking around the kitchen at all the angry and worried faces, she felt more than a little responsible. Lady Divinity put Ringo in her care. She was supposed to shadow him through what was to be a trying time. Instead, she’d been naked with one of his brothers.

  What was she thinking?

  Erotic images of Hark filled her mind, and her body lit to life once more. It didn’t help.

  Furious with herself, she ducked into the hall, and marched upstairs. She hadn’t brought much with her. One bag of necessities and she�
��d be packed and ready to head back to the heavens.

  As she passed Hark’s room, the scent of his aftershave hit her hard. He was amazing. Their time downstairs had been incredible, but if what Storme said was true, their attraction was more to do with a witch’s spell than it was about her.

  Her chest ached, the tightness in her lungs making it difficult to breathe. Foolish. She’d been foolish to think any man could want her with a hunger like that.

  He’d been consumed. Enthralled.

  Well, whatever the reason, those had been the best hours of her life. She’d file those memories away, but recognize them for what they were—a crazy, impulsive, ill-thought-out affair. One that drew her from her task and let down the two people she never wanted to let down.

  Lady Divinity.

  And Ringo.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Hark threw up his hands and cursed. Rounding the kitchen island, he stared out at the upset crowd. “It makes the most sense for me to go. I’m off patrol for the foreseeable future because of exposure. Ren and I can see what we can find out without pulling from the streets and without raising attention in the heavens. Ren was named as Ringo’s companion.”

  “Ren was supposed to be watching out for him down here,” Danel snapped. “Where exactly was she when Michael came calling?”

  Hark’s Mark exploded into purple neon, and he stepped in tight to the Persian. “Think carefully before anything else spews from your mouth, D.”

  “Enough,” Zander said. The Sumerian pinched the bridge of his nose, and the lights flickered. “Hark’s right. He is exposure waiting to happen on the streets right now. He and Ren can work together to find our boy and figure out the real reason the asshole wants him. I’m willing to bet my bippy it has nothing to do with his transition.”

  “All right,” Kyrian said, snuggling Nio in his arms. “Where do you want us?”

  “Bo and Kyrian, find the Rugaru rebels. Linsale and his men aren’t smart enough to bushwhack us and cast clones to decoy us. Phoenix and Brennus, go back to the warehouse and see if you can pick up any magical mojo that points to the species of the witches that helped them. Then, see what Colt’s found out about the dead witches eating crow. Danel, you’re on archives. Look for something about Ringo and his gifts we missed—something that might pique the interest of the men upstairs. That leaves Seth and me to hit the streets. Despite the clusterfuck that is our lives, we’ve still got a job to do.”

  “Is that safe?” Thea asked. “I’m sorry, but to have just two of you out there on your own?”

  “Honestly, angel,” Zander said, “the Darkworld is quiet right now. We’ll be fine.”

  Seth stroked a hand down his mate’s silky blonde hair and kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry, babe. If things snowball down a bad path, we’ve got Colt and the Dragons on speed dial, and the rest of the garrison to rally. Lots of backup.”

  Hark stepped off to leave when Danel offered him a fist bump. An olive branch. Except, he still felt like punching the Persian in his goateed face.

  Man, this mating madness was a powerful force. He felt like tearing the guy a new one just for speaking Ren’s name.

  He glanced to the doorway where—she was gone.

  Stepping out of the kitchen, he jogged to the stairs, wondering when she’d slipped away. He reached out with his senses. She wasn’t in the house. Panic struck hard and fast, and he raced up the hall to the room Austin had given her across the hall from his.

  Empty. Her things were gone.

  He burst into a raging purple glowstick, and his beast roared wild in his head. Find her.

  He would. There was nowhere in the three realms he wouldn’t search to find her. And when he did, they’d have a serious talk about her leaving without a word. She had no idea how desperately he needed to know she was safe and well.

  His beloved Cherub hadn’t realized that she was now his entire life.

  Brennus called Colt once he and Phoenix were finished at the Rugaru warehouse and asked him to meet them at the witch house. The place was a disaster area, cordoned off with caution tape and abandoned at the end of an urban street. With the vacant green space behind, it was remote, while still smack in the middle of the city.

  Thankfully, the veil Rayvn and Wilder cast around the place had the humans looking at it like any other burned down building. They couldn’t feel that the magical energy of the property still ebbed with its own cloying dark-energy pulse, even twenty-four hours after the explosion.

  “Is it just me, or do ye think it strange that after all these years of rarely dealing with any uprisal from the witches of the Otherworld, that we get ambushed and bespelled twice in twenty-four hours?”

  Phoenix shrugged. What do we know? They’re in league with the Rugaru somehow.

  “Aye, I’ll give ye that. But why have us distracted with sexing up our mates? What’s the point?”

  To keep our focus off the streets?

  “But it took hold in the wee hours of the morning. We’re good, but surely the Darkworld rebels didna think we’d still be knocking boots come nightfall.”

  Maybe it went off early? Maybe it was supposed to take us down tonight.

  Brennus looked at the collateral damage: dead witches, a deliberateness of the explosions to expose magic, tricking them into first thinking they were taking down the Rugaru, and then stirring them into a sexual frenzy.

  What was the point?

  They were missing something. “Someone’s messin’ with us, my brother, and I dinnae like it. Not one bit.”

  Ren dropped her bag in her room and was about to head to the Golden Palace to confess her failings to Lady Divinity when Ayana burst through the door. “So, the wanderlust ends and the prodigal sister returns. To what do I owe the honor of your company?”

  Ren waved the snark away and changed direction to head for the kitchen. “Don’t be dramatic, Ayana. I left you a note.”

  “Yes, your note. ‘Lady Divinity asked a personal favor. Not sure how long I’ll be gone.’”

  Ren shrugged, pouring herself a glass of water. “That’s what happened. There wasn’t anything more to tell.”

  “No. Only hours after we argue about you running a simple errand for me, you disappear. That’s a coincidence?”

  “Believe it or not, not everything I do revolves around you or living here with you.”

  “Nothing to do with me?” She practically screeched the words, and Ren readied for the assault. “I came home, and you were gone. My sister was missing. You know how I worry. You left me in the lurch, twisting in the wind, out high and dry.”

  Ren chuckled. “That’s a lot of metaphors for two days away.”

  “Days in the Human Realm. It’s been a week here. A week! Do you know how much energy it takes to run my life and my responsibilities?”

  Ren slammed her palms against the counter. “Yes. I. Do. In fact, you may not have noticed, but it’s me cooking and cleaning and picking up your pastries. I take your calls and organize your appointments. I lie and dismiss the men who think you care about them. I know perfectly well how exhausting it is to run your life, and thank the heavens you finally realize it.”

  Ayana scowled and picked up a piece of fruit from the bowl on the table. “Why are you talking to me like this? You never get short with me.”

  “Maybe I’m having a bad day. Did you think of that? Did you think to ask me what’s going on in my life? Where I was? What my two days away were about?”

  Ayana frowned and set the bitten apple back in the bowl. “You’re being rude, and I’ve had enough. You may talk to me once you calm down. Call me when dinner is ready.”

  “Ha!” Ren snorted and wondered why it had taken her so long to want out from under her sister’s thumb. “If you’re waiting for me to make it, you’ll go hungry. I’m headed out.”

  “What? You just got here.”

  “And I returned because I have somewhere to be and someone to speak with.”

  The chime of the
door had Ren pushing past her sister and heading to the entrance of their apartment. The white slab door had barely opened a crack when her warrior rushed in and seized her in his arms. His lips were hot and demanding on hers, and she groaned as he lifted her off her feet.

  How could the taste of him scatter her thoughts so completely? In a split-second, her body responded and she thought of nothing else but taking him to her bed. After a moment, he eased back and let her catch her breath.

  “You left without saying goodbye. Shame on you. I think after this afternoon, I at least deserved a note.”

  “I’m told notes are overrated.” Ren swallowed, her mind catching up with the reality that her Nephilim warrior was standing in her home. “I thought Storme said the witch’s spell brought on what happened.”

  He frowned. “No. I told you—”

  “I know,” she said, backing out of his arms and gaining some distance. “It’s just, it makes more sense that something influenced you.”

  His frown tightened. “Something did influence me—a beautiful, caring female stole my heart. I am consumed by you, remember? If I didn’t prove it to you—even a little this afternoon—I am willing to try harder.”

  He sidled forward, a swagger in his step, and a sexy smirk on those full, dark lips. Her head spun as the heat of his gaze seared her, straight down into her belly.

  “You’ve got to be kidding. Her?”

  Hark spun to block Ren from the incoming voice of intrusion. It was the desperate musician from the hotel opening. He hadn’t pegged her for a Cherub. She didn’t have the build or the congeniality for it. “What are you doing here?”

  “Same question back at you, warrior.”

  Ren came around to his side and gestured between them. “Taharqa, this is my sister, Ayana.”

  “Your sister?” That didn’t make sense. Why hadn’t she mentioned that when he asked her about her family? She said they were very different people, but—his entire life dealt with the deception of Otherworlders. He had a sinking feeling he’d been played for some reason. “Ren?”