Nevar grinned, threw his hand out and cast a portal directly in front of him. He flew through the swirling black vortex, unwilling to linger for even a second in case his master changed his mind. He had a pass and he was taking it.
He landed in the middle of London, on a quiet broad street that bustled with mortals during the day. The rain-soaked pavements and road reflected the lights from the closed stores that lined the road. He stretched and focused to put his wings away. They shrank into his back, aching as they went, slow to do his bidding tonight. It had been weeks since he had used them and it had felt good to fly again. Their reluctance to disappear was his reluctance to see them gone for once. If his stomach had been full, he would have kept flying, taking in the mortal world from the air.
It was as empty as his master’s heart though and he needed to fill it and refuel before he could fly anywhere.
The mark on his chest pulsed, sending fire sweeping over the curve of the beast. He pressed his hand to his breastplate and grimaced, waiting for the pain to subside. When it did, he felt a glimmer of something that distinctly felt like fear.
Fear?
He frowned at that. Perhaps it was his fear. Fear that Asmodeus would come for him again. Fear that he would spend forever trapped in Hell. Fear that the Devil would kill him and send him back to Heaven, to his worst nightmare. Although, he wouldn’t remember what a nightmare it was to him. He would forget everything the moment he died and was reborn as an angel of Heaven. He would forget how Heaven had used him.
He drew in a deep breath and focused on the mark on his chest. Where was the destroyer? If it was awake now, could it sense him? Did it know he was its master? If he stayed in one place for long enough, would it find him and save him from having to search for it?
He still wasn’t sure how such a gigantic beast could elude him and Asmodeus, and the Hell’s angels the Devil had dispatched to hunt for it too.
Unless it wasn’t in Hell.
He had goaded his master into letting him come to the mortal world so he could escape the constant torment and stench of Hell, feeding him a lie about the possibility of it being in this realm. What if it was here though?
There were many remote places on the planet where it could hide.
And it was a big fucking planet.
Nevar groaned. Was he doomed to spend the rest of his life flying around trying to locate the damned thing before it destroyed the world?
If he had to cover an entire planet, he was going to need a serious amount of fuel.
He kept his hand over the mark and pondered where the destroyer might be as he walked the familiar path down the warren of alleys towards Cloud Nine. Despite its grotty and often grim appearance, the club served some of the best food he had eaten in centuries. Full fat, full flavour, bad food. The sort mortals viewed as a future heart attack in the making.
Angels viewed it as superfood.
Fuck those greens and shoots and berries.
Meat oozing with flavour and fat was angelic superfood.
He knew angels who swung the other way when it came to their choice of superfood, preferring the high sugar content of cakes and sweets. Asmodeus was definitely one of those angels. The male could devour a whole chocolate gateaux in one sitting, and he had heard Liora mention in passing that his twin, Apollyon, could do the same.
Nevar could devour a whole spit-roasted pig.
His hand dropped to the bare patch of stomach between the edge of his chest plate and the slats of armour that protected his hips and he rubbed it, his mouth filling with saliva at the thought of the pulled pork buns and chicken wings that the club served.
Fuel up and head out. Do not linger. Do not drink. Understood?
Nevar growled at Asmodeus’s voice in his head and mentally flipped him off.
His master had no faith in him.
That was the plan… and it still is the plan. He severed the connection between them before Asmodeus could respond and turned down the alley that would bring him to Cloud Nine.
He stopped and frowned. The sign was off and there was no queue of mortals, but the club was open. What was going on? Only one way to find out. He walked towards the door.
The bouncer acknowledged him with a jerk of his chin and he pushed past the huge demon male and stepped into the club.
The lights were on inside, the colourful ones above the bar bathing the area and the demons milling around along its length. No music though.
No mortals.
His gaze sought the female he had met before, although he wasn’t sure why. It had been days since his last visit. She would be long gone, and it was stupid of him to hope that she would still be around, or remotely interested in him.
He headed for the bar, his eyes still scanning the demons for the woman even when he told himself to let her go and shove her out of his head.
A blonde cut into his path, her hands firmly planted on her hips, pale against her red jeans. A flicker of darkness danced in her eyes. Her stance caused her chest to jut upwards, showing off ample cleavage in her low cut black camisole. She narrowed her gaze on him and looked as if she was about to lose her pretty façade, revealing the hideous monster that lurked beneath her skin.
The boss.
And she was pissed about something.
He scanned the club again, frowning as he noticed that the demons present were jittery too, disturbed for some reason. Had something happened?
If it had, he wasn’t sure why the boss was holding him responsible, and the intense glare she was giving him said she definitely thought it was his fault.
“Do something,” she snapped, sharp teeth flashing between her glossy red lips, and flicked her short hair away from her face.
He arched an eyebrow down at her. “I don’t follow. What is your problem?”
She turned and pointed, and the crowd parted.
Nevar’s jaw almost dropped.
The female was there, curled up and sleeping on the grimy black bar top, naked again.
But not exposed.
Dark leathery wings wrapped around her slender form, cocooning her.
His feet moved of their own accord, carrying him across the room to her, unable to resist the powerful pull he felt towards her. The demons stepped back, making more room and allowing him and the boss to pass and approach the female.
What was she?
He cocked his head and his eyes darted over her before settling on her face. She was even more beautiful in sleep, her face soft and peaceful.
“She’s been sleeping there since the other night and she’s ruining my business. I can’t let mortals in when there’s a demon asleep on the bar.” The bite in the boss’s tone caused several demons nearby to edge further away and exchange nervous glances. “Do something.”
The blonde had a reputation as a hard-ass bitch with a temper, but he was damned if she was going to order him around. He had enough bosses in his life already.
“Tell her to leave then.” He cast her a glance as he folded his arms across his chest and shrugged. “It’s not my problem.”
She flashed twin rows of deadly sharp teeth on a hiss. “I tried that… and the bitch attacked me and started ranting. None of us could understand her.”
Nevar struggled to hold back the grin that tried to curve his lips as he thought about the boss getting a taste of her own medicine, served to her by such a delicate looking female. It was probably long past due and was definitely time someone had the balls to stand up to the demon owner of Cloud Nine.
He looked back at the woman sleeping on the bar and drew closer to her, feeling light and hazy as he approached her, as if he wasn’t quite with the world.
She had refused to leave the club. Why?
He had his answer when her eyelids fluttered and slowly opened, revealing sleep-filled hazel eyes that brightened as they settled on him.
She sat up, her black wings falling away from her body to drape across the bar top.
“I waited for you.”
He felt strange on hearing those words leaving her soft lips, as if they had cast a spell on him all over again and pulled him deep under it, leaving him suffused with warmth and peace.
“Can you understand the bitch like the bartenders said you could?” the boss said from beside his elbow and he nodded.
“I can. I don’t speak her language but I know what she’s saying, and she understands English.”
The blonde snarled, “Tell her to leave then or things will get ugly.”
Nevar had no doubt that things would only get ugly for the boss. The little female on the bar could probably lay the whole club to waste without breaking a sweat. What was she?
“I shall ask her nicely for you.” Nevar smirked at the boss and then turned his attention back to the female. “You have to leave.”
Her face lit up, she hopped down from the bar, landing close to him, her bare body almost brushing his, and smiled. “I will leave with you.”
Not quite what he had said and far from what he had intended, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her. He stared down into her eyes, picking out all the flecks of gold amongst green, lost in her all over again.
She stretched, raising her arms high above her head and flashing the entire room. Several of the male demons suddenly looked less nervous and more as if they might risk their balls by pouncing on her.
Nevar growled at them all and used his powers to produce jeans and a top.
He shoved them at her. “Dress.”
She took them and stared down at them, and he began to wonder if she had any concept of clothing and dressing herself.
He snarled at her. “Put them on or I swear I will break your wings off and dress you myself.”
She shrank back against the bar and curled her wings behind her, shielding them with her body as she eyed him with a flicker of fear colouring her face and her feelings.
Nevar sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed slowly. Utter bastard. Maybe he was better off in Hell, stuck in a room on guard duty, away from the world. He wasn’t fit to be near other people, and definitely not her.
He drew in another slow breath, exhaled it and lowered his hand to his side.
“You cannot walk around naked,” he said, trying a gentler approach, one worthy of such a beautiful female. “You must dress.”
She nodded, turned her back on him and set the clothes down on the bar. When she grabbed the jeans and bent forwards to put them on, flashing her bare backside at every male in the bar, Nevar growled and called his wings. They burst from his back, knocking a few of the demon males away, and he used them to shield her from their hungry eyes.
She shimmied into the black jeans and then held the silver-grey halter-top up, staring at it for so long that he realised she wasn’t sure how it worked and was trying to figure it out.
“Here.” He caught hold of her left wrist and spun her to face him, doing his best to keep her shielded by his black feathered wings and keep his eyes off her bare breasts. He took the top from her and eyed her leathery wings. “Can you make them go away?”
She shook her head. “Not right now. I am hungry. Weak. I require sustenance.”
“Same here.” But he didn’t think he was going to get his order of pulled pork buns and chicken wings now. The boss would kick him out as soon as the female was dressed and ready to leave.
He sighed again and pushed the image of delicious food from his mind. He could find somewhere to eat once he had lured her out of the club and ditched her.
He crouched in front of her and opened the tube of material that formed the lower half of the halter-top. “We will do this the hard way then. Step into it.”
She did as instructed and he slowly tugged the top up her long legs, biting back a groan as the feel of her thighs against his hands and his position had him instantly rock hard in his loincloth. No one would notice with his armour in place, but he didn’t like how quickly his body responded to her, or that they might see the effect she had on him.
She might see.
Was it because she was a demon and he was subconsciously thinking about her giving him Euphoria? Was his body hard-wired to see a female demon now and automatically prepare for sex?
He ground his teeth and cursed himself.
If it was, then it was his own damned fault.
He would ditch her as soon as he could and continue his mission, and forget all about Euphoria. He didn’t need it. He wouldn’t go back to whoring himself for a fix. It wasn’t worth the pain and humiliation.
If he wanted pain and humiliation, he could just return to Hell.
“Pull it up over your chest.” Nevar averted his gaze and rose to his feet.
She wriggled in the corner of his vision and then grumbled something as her arms moved. She waved the two lengths of fabric that were designed to hold the top up.
“What do these do?”
Nevar took them and placed them around her neck, and slowed as her silken hair brushed his skin and the heat of her washed over him, becoming painfully aware of how close she was to him, the bar at her back stopping her from being able to move away.
He breathed in her sweet dewy fragrance and savoured the soft warmth of her skin as his thumbs brushed her neck. He drank in her beauty as she tilted her head back, bringing her eyes up to his, and listened to her breathing as it hitched with each sweep of his skin across hers. She filled all of his senses, stealing his awareness of the world from him and narrowing it down to only her. He stared down into her eyes, mesmerised by the way they widened and overflowed with dark allure, and how her lips parted, tempting him to taste her and making him hunger for her.
He swallowed hard, forgetting what he was meant to be doing, transfixed by her and lost in the moment.
“I told you not to linger.” Asmodeus’s deep voice rumbled through the silent room and shattered the spell she had cast on Nevar. “I should have known you would.”
Nevar drew back and looked over his right shoulder, towards his dark master.
Asmodeus’s golden eyes fell on the female and widened. “What is she?”
Nevar kept asking himself the same thing. She shrank back as Asmodeus advanced, casting her gaze downwards and shifting behind Nevar.
“I do not know what she is.” He moved in front of her, blocking Asmodeus’s path and earning a glare for his chivalry. “But I have to get her out of this place before the boss loses her temper.”
He quickly snagged her wrist and pulled her with him, making a break for it. A hot jolt ran up his arm at the feel of her soft flesh giving beneath his bruising grip and she gasped, as if she had felt it too. He tugged her towards the door.
Asmodeus stepped into his path. “Is she demonic?”
Nevar growled. “I do not know.”
“I have never seen a demon like her.” The dark angel pressed his palm to Nevar’s breastplate, holding him in place, and peered around him. “She is powerful.”
He nodded. He could feel just how powerful she was now that he had his hand on her and it was far beyond the level that he had previously thought.
It sent him back to his initial thoughts about her.
“I do not think she is a demon.”
Asmodeus drew back and studied him. “If not a demon, then what is she?”
“I do not know.” Nevar rubbed his thumb across the inside of her wrist as she emerged from behind him, her free hand clutching the two pieces of silver material to hold her top up and her leathery wings curled around her shoulders in a protective way. He looked down at her. “What are you?”
“Born of Hell.” She looked certain about that, but he still wasn’t sure she was a demon.
There were other beings born of Hell that weren’t demon. Asmodeus was one of them. He was all that was evil in his angelic twin, Apollyon. The Devil had tortured Apollyon until he had lost all good and had then used his blood to create Asmodeus, his own powerful angel of destruction.
Nevar took the two lengths of mater
ial from her and tied them behind her neck, afraid he would lose his temper if the top fell down and exposed her to Asmodeus’s golden eyes. He wasn’t strong enough to fight his master right now, but he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.
“Interesting, but we are leaving. Did you eat?” Asmodeus said and he shook his head.
“I was rather preoccupied. The boss of this place told me to make her leave.”
Asmodeus’s black eyebrows met in a hard frown and his gaze drilled into him. “Why you?”
Nevar shrugged but could see his master wouldn’t take it as an answer. He scrubbed his hand over the jagged back of his white hair and flicked a glance at the female. Her hazel eyes flitted between him and Asmodeus, the glimmer of curiosity back in them.
“Apparently, only I can understand the language she is speaking, although I do not know how.”
“I can understand her.” Those words leaving Asmodeus’s lips gave him pause. The angel had understood her when she had informed them she was born of Hell.
He looked back at Asmodeus. “How?”
Asmodeus lifted his huge black wings in a shrug. “I did not question it. I understand many languages. Hers is as old as the Earth.”
“It is still spoken?” Nevar said and the dark-haired male shook his head.
“I have not heard it in millennia.”
Nevar’s gaze drifted back down to her and she smiled, a beautiful one that struck him hard in his chest and knocked the wind from him. “How old are you?”
She looked little more than thirty to his eyes, but then he was beyond two thousand years old and didn’t appear much older than she did.
Her black eyebrows pinched together and she mimicked his master, lifting her slender pale shoulders and shifting the clawed tips of her wings. “I do not know. Ancient. I recall the birth of the King of Demons.”
Asmodeus choked. “Excuse me?”
She beamed at him. “I remember your creation, although I did not witness it.”
Nevar stared at her. “Just how old are you and how can you recall the birth of Asmodeus but not the battle you survived?”
Her Angel: Eternal Warriors Complete Series Box Set Page 116
