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Her Angel: Eternal Warriors Complete Series Box Set

Page 37

by Heaton, Felicity


  He looked off to his right, using his senses to track her instead and shoving aside thoughts of bedding her. The area they were passing through was quiet enough but they were coming up on a rough one inhabited by countless lower forms of demon that had a taste for human flesh. He would have to keep Erin close to mask her mortal scent with his own immortal and demonic one.

  Erin grumbled and hopped a few paces. She raised her right foot, catching it in her hands and bending forwards so she could see the sole. Veiron cocked his head to one side, appreciating her graceful form, and then told himself that as soon as Erin was safe, he was leaving. He had only agreed to come for her because Amelia had gone all weepy on him and Marcus had given him a black look that promised pain if he refused her request to save her little sister. Once Erin was back in her arms, he would resume his pursuit of the one thing that had kept his cold heart warm these past few centuries in Hell.

  Revenge.

  As an angel, he had lived by the same creed as the rest. The mission was what mattered. He had never felt any allegiance to those words until recent years. Now the mission was all he could think about. It was all he dreamed about. Hunger for vengeance lived in his veins, keeping his heart pumping and his feet moving forwards.

  It wouldn’t be satisfied until he had the Devil’s head on a spike and had shaken Heaven to its foundations.

  Until that moment of victory was his, Veiron wouldn’t rest.

  And he certainly wouldn’t get involved with a mortal female. As tempting as she was, he wasn’t what she needed in her life. He could never give her what she needed and she would be a complication that he couldn’t afford. A weakness. A need to protect her had been steadily building inside him since he had opened her cell door and set eyes on her. That need included protecting her from himself. She had been through enough in the past few weeks. As soon as she was with Amelia, he was gone, out of there. Danger followed him everywhere, constant and unrelenting, and he wasn’t about to drag a mortal female into his life and into the path of that.

  Erin might think she was strong, but in his world, she was weak. A kitten. A baby. She wouldn’t last five seconds against the lowest form of demon in this realm, let alone the beasts that hunted him on a nightly basis.

  She would become a pawn, something they could use to distract and weaken him, and that was something he didn’t wish on anyone.

  No. The sooner Erin was out of his life, the better it was for everyone involved.

  His back shivered, the scars where his wings hid tingling with the memory of that soft sweep of her fingers.

  She had just had to touch him, hadn’t she? He had noticed from the moment he had stormed into her cell that Erin was as forward about being forward as he had ever seen. Hell, she was so far ahead of forward that forward looked chaste and innocent. The heat of her gaze on him had been hard enough to handle but when she had dared to run her hand down his bare back, he had felt her touch as a fifty thousand volt shock.

  His wings had pushed for freedom and it had taken every ounce of his considerable willpower to convince them it would be a bad idea. Very bad. One tiny crimson feather emerging from his back would be enough to send a warning straight through Hell to his former boss, alerting him to Veiron’s exact location in his domain.

  But damn, it had felt good.

  He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had caressed those lines. He wasn’t sure there was a time. Not the way she had done it, gently following the scar tissue with her fingertips, curiosity and a dash of desire in her touch.

  Veiron blew out his breath.

  Just thinking about it had his wings pushing and his head spinning off to imagine her running those fingers over his feathers.

  Veiron stared at her. She bandaged her foot back up with the black material and then looked over her shoulder at him. Her bright amber eyes met his, sending a hot shiver through his blood that only increased in temperature as her gaze slowly fell to his bare torso and her pupils dilated. She glanced away a split second later and started walking again.

  That wasn’t the first time she had given him the wicked once over and then darted her attention away from him. She had done it countless times in the past few miles alone and he had the distinct impression that he had done or said something that had made her feel as though he was not for her.

  Which he wasn’t, but he wasn’t averse to her thinking that he was throughout the duration of their journey because she had been a lot more talkative and better company during his first hour of knowing her. They had days of walking before they reached the gate where Amelia waited on the other side. He really didn’t want to spend it with Erin blowing hot and cold on him. He had never been a fan of the silent treatment. He didn’t have the patience for it and trying to figure out how to get the woman to speak to him again twisted his head in painful knots.

  What had he done or said that had altered her so dramatically from the woman who had given him heated looks that openly declared she was interested in all things Veiron?

  A few things came to mind, most notably the moment where he had revealed that he was a local.

  If the demon thing didn’t sit well with her, what the hell was she going to make of her sister and Marcus? They were technically part-demon now.

  Veiron drew his sword and stalked forwards to catch up with her.

  She jumped when she saw the sword and edged away, placing some distance between them on the narrow black path.

  “Stay close,” Veiron barked, his patience wearing thin and the fragile tethers holding his considerable anger over the whole situation, and Erin’s behaviour since his revelation, at bay close to snapping.

  She didn’t argue this time. Sweet mercy. The woman might just live to see the mortal realm again after all.

  At least, he might not kill her.

  Her gaze burned into his profile. He slid his dark eyes to meet hers out of their corners and she blinked, her own eyes going wider. Startled. She didn’t look away though.

  “I’m tired, I’m hungry and I’m thirsty.”

  This was just what he needed. Complaining female was right up there with weepy on the list of things that lit the touch paper of irritation that could easily detonate the fifty-kiloton bomb that was his anger.

  “Tough luck. We can’t rest here.”

  “My feet hurt.”

  Veiron frowned, what little pride he had telling him he wasn’t going to let this one slip. “I offered to carry you. You refused. Again, tough luck.”

  “You’re not very nice. I really can’t see what Amelia sees in you,” she snapped and her cheeks blazed. Her gaze zipped to the path, so her black hair fell forwards and obscured her face.

  “What Amelia sees in me?” He stopped, aware that he was contravening his own rules about not resting. It wasn’t a rest. It was a pause. A brief punctuation in their trek so he could figure out what the fuck she was babbling about.

  Erin kept her gaze downcast and wrapped her arms around her slender frame. “As a lover.”

  Veiron spluttered. Not the manliest thing he could have done given the situation but what she had said, and what she clearly thought, had him reeling so hard he was surprised he didn’t fall on his arse.

  “Lover?” he said with so much disbelief that she finally looked up at him.

  Her amber eyes were huge against her dirty face. “You’re not lovers?”

  He shook his head. “No way. No. Marcus would break my balls if I so much as looked at her sideways and she’s not my type.”

  Veiron’s eyes disobeyed his direct command not to take Erin in from head to toe. They roamed over her, liking what they saw. Forbidden. Off the menu. He was not looking for a romantic entanglement. He was looking for revenge.

  Besides, Marcus would probably kill him for looking at Erin too, even though she was definitely his type. Smart-mouthed, sassy, and bewitching.

  “Who’s Marcus?”

  Amelia really needed to keep her little sister in the loop. “Amelia’s l
over... boyfriend... hell, he could be her husband for all I know.”

  Erin’s eyes managed to go a little wider. “She would have told me if she had married. But you said that if Amelia died, you would too...”

  Hell, Veiron could see where she had gotten the impression that he and Amelia were lovers now. So was this why she had gone from giving him ‘come hither and let’s party despite my hellish surroundings’ looks to withering glares?

  “I was speaking literally,” he said and her frown didn’t lift. “It’s a long story and not one for here. We have to keep moving.”

  She didn’t look as though she was going to heed that command. There was no way in this realm that he was going to stand around in the open and attempt to explain, without making him sound more terrifying than she already thought he was by just knowing he was a demon, the whole situation with himself, Amelia and Marcus.

  Veiron grabbed her arm and started marching.

  Mercifully, she didn’t protest. She kept pace beside him, her gaze boring into the side of his face, burning with questions that he really didn’t want to answer.

  If she didn’t like the idea of him being a demon, how was she going to react when she discovered that he was like the one who had taken her from her home and dragged her down into Hell?

  Veiron vowed that it would never happen. He couldn’t use his powers in Hell without alerting the authorities so there was no reason for her to find out exactly what sort of man was playing her bodyguard. As soon as he got her safely topside, he would say a few choice words to Amelia, tell Marcus that he could go to Hell on the rescue mission next time, and would get as far away from Erin as possible and as quickly as he could without his wings.

  Heck, he would sprint through the jungle and not stop until he reached the nearest airport.

  And he would never set eyes on Erin again.

  It was how it had to be.

  Because a woman like her could never love a demon like him.

  CHAPTER 5

  Erin stuck to Veiron like glue, so close that she had bumped into his back several times in the past few minutes alone. She had almost tripped him once, accidentally treading on the back of his boot. That had earned her a glare that could have scared the Devil himself. He had told her to keep close to her when they had entered an open area that could have passed as a village. Small black square huts with holes for windows and doors dotted the undulating basalt landscape, upwards of twenty of them. A path wound through the ramshackle buildings. She followed Veiron along it, her gaze darting around, fixing on each black hole in the huts, trying to see if there were things inside watching her from the shadows.

  Veiron had said that if she strayed too far from him, they would smell she was mortal and she was high on the list of food preferred by the creatures who dwelled here. Were they the sort of demons that had left those sharp grooves in all the bones she had seen? She didn’t want to meet anything that could do that. Surely, they could see she was mortal?

  She glanced up at the back of Veiron’s head, watching the bells on the end of the thong that held his long red hair in a ponytail as they swayed with his heavy steps. He was a demon and he looked human. Most of the time. There had been moments when he had looked at her and she had seen the darkness in his eyes, the crimson that edged them and served as a reminder that he wasn’t like her.

  How evil was he on a scale of just a bit wicked to the Devil?

  And how did he know her sister?

  Erin had tried to ask him about the relationship he had with Amelia but each time he had shot her down, telling her to keep quiet and keep moving. She was beginning to think he was using their current location as an excuse to shut her up. If he said that demons could tell she was a tasty snack by the sound of her voice, she would probably believe him.

  Did he eat people too?

  She couldn’t hold that one in.

  “What sort of things are your favourite foods?”

  He looked over one wide shoulder, his eyebrows knitted together and his eyes dark. They brightened a second later, as though he had figured out what she was really asking.

  “Babies,” he said.

  Erin stopped dead.

  He huffed, turned to face her, and the muscles in his jaw ticked beneath his stubble. “I was joking. God, what sort of monster do you think I am?”

  Before she could respond, he had turned away and was stalking ahead. Erin shot a nervous glance at the two small black huts either side of her and raced to catch up with him. A little too fast. She almost ran into the back of him and had to use her hands as a buffer. He tensed and snarled when they settled against his lower back.

  Erin leapt backwards. No touching. She had got the message loud and clear the first time. He didn’t have to growl at her. Would he have preferred she ploughed into his back?

  “You’re not a monster,” she whispered but it didn’t even sound convincing to her. Right now, she wasn’t sure what he was, but she knew she didn’t appreciate jokes about eating babies. “So what do you eat?”

  “Down here, I don’t need to eat anything, so you’re safe, okay?” Could he sound any more offended? He had practically growled the words at her.

  “What about when you’re not down here?” She moved to walk beside him so she could see whether he really was angry with her. He had expressive eyes that hid nothing, as though he didn’t feel the need to guard his emotions from anyone. If he was angry, the world knew it. If he was happy, they knew that too. She was beginning to think that happy was a rare emotion for Veiron.

  “Food... just like you.”

  “Why don’t you eat anything down here?” She had expected him to tell her that he never ate, not that he ate part time. She rubbed her stomach as it rumbled, thoughts of food filling her mind. How long had it been since she had eaten? The landscape of Hell all looked the same to her and there was no night or day, so she had lost track of time again. Only her aching feet told her how far she had walked. Too far. She needed to rest before she collapsed from pain or hunger but now wasn’t the best place for stopping so she didn’t mention it. Talking kept her mind off it though, and since Veiron seemed to be in the mood to answer basic questions, she would do her best to learn a little more about her guardian. “Do you pig out when you’re up there?”

  “No. It’s the same for all... never mind. Forget it.”

  “For all what?” Like hell she was going to not mind it and forget it. The hard set of his jaw said he wasn’t going to answer. Erin reached out to him and his gaze followed her hand. She laid it on his forearm. “Veiron?”

  He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. At least he didn’t tell her to get her hands off him this time. Score one for her. If he anticipated her touch, he didn’t shove her away.

  “Angels.”

  Erin stopped dead again, her fingers tightening around Veiron’s arm. He halted and shifted to face her.

  “You’re an angel?” she said and frowned. “But you said you were local...”

  He nodded.

  “Local and an angel?” Was that even possible? There was so much suffering down here. If he were an angel, why would he tolerate it? Wouldn’t he want to do something to end it?

  “Of sorts,” he said, turned on his heel, and kept walking.

  Erin stared at his back. An angel without wings. Her gaze looked beyond the black leather scabbard that held his sword against his back and settled on the two long vertical scars highlighted by the matching red and black tribal tattoos on his shoulder blades.

  “Has someone cut off your wings?” She hobbled to catch up with him.

  He shot her a look that plainly told her to shut up and drop the subject. Like hell. She had gone from wanting to know why her sister knew a demon to why her sister knew an angel, and she wanted answers.

  “Oh my God... you’re fallen!”

  He turned on her with a snarl.

  Something told Erin that it wasn’t the G-word that had upset him, not as it had the Devil. Veiron had use
d the G-word himself without any obvious anger. The rage that burned in his eyes was because she had struck the nail firmly on the head and driven it hard into some place it hurt.

  “Sorry,” she whispered but he wasn’t listening. He was already striding away from her, leaving her exposed to any watching eyes in the huts around them.

  Questions burned on the tip of her tongue but the black look on Veiron’s face warned that putting voice to them might make them the last thing she ever said so she quietly walked beside him.

  They left the bleak village behind and entered a wide open area where the black cragged land belched flames and fiery orange cracks spewed lava. Erin couldn’t imagine how horrible it would be to live down here if she had lived in Heaven. She had no doubt that the other realm existed. She was walking through Hell with a fallen angel as her guardian. Why had Veiron fallen?

  She glanced up at his face. Pain edged his dark eyes as he stared ahead into the endless black. Voicing that question would only hurt him and she had done enough damage already. He had gone through Hell to free her and was leading her out, taking her to her sister. She should have been thanking him, showing her gratitude, rather than playing the painful version of twenty questions.

  Erin averted her gaze, no longer sure how to speak to him or what to say if she could find her voice. Shards of black rock edged the right side of the winding path through the fiery broken black fields, obscuring the way ahead. She frowned as they turned a corner and she saw a group of rickety rusty cages ahead. They weren’t empty.

  Three women dressed in rags, filthy and emaciated, huddled inside them. They reached through the bars of their cramped cages and looked up at her, dark eyes wide and laced with tears.

  As she approached, they pleaded her to help them. Veiron strolled right past them without even sparing them a glance. How could he be so unfeeling? He didn’t even break his stride.

 

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