Watcher United

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Watcher United Page 3

by J. L. Madore


  Austin set their baby girl in her bassinet and focused on Zander. Rough and violent, he had a darkness that often ended the lives of people who pissed him off, but he had another side too—this side—the side those close to him got to share.

  “You’re a good man, Zander Ambrose. Have I told you lately how proud I am to be your wife?”

  He kissed her once, a soft brush of lips, and pulled her against his steel chest. He smelled like crisp fall air and leather. She breathed him in and felt his strength sink all the way into her cells.

  “Your happiness is my goal in life,” he said, touching his forehead to hers. “Some days, I lie awake and watch you and Nio sleep. I can’t even breathe. This life is more than I ever dreamed and certainly more than I deserve.”

  “Pish-posh,” she said, shaking her head. “Take us upstairs, Warrior. Let me show you exactly what you deserve.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  After checking his weapons and sliding into his vest and his long leather trench, Seth headed out, armed and antsy. The rubber soles of his red Doc Martins beat out a steady rhythm on the stairs of the apartment building. The back stairs always smelled like pot and he wondered what the attraction was to smoking something that smelled like a skunk’s ass.

  Exiting the back door, he blinked up at the November sky. It was barely five o’clock, but everything above hung dark gray as the sun turned in for the night.

  He turned up the collar on his coat and headed down the blind alley north of his building. From there, once he ensured no industrious looky-loos were watching from the shadows, he threw his molecules into the dusky sky.

  He found Danel lurking in the dark alley behind the guy’s favorite donut dive. His Persian brother looked fucking badass—though he felt weird about always eyeing him up and thinking so. It wasn’t his six-and-a-half feet of height—Seth matched that. It wasn’t his proclivity for leather outerwear—he shared that too. It was the guy’s seven-foot ebony wings that rose well above his raven-black hair and cascaded down to the calves of his shitkickers.

  Despite being one hand shy of a pair, Danel remained as lethal as ever and had been reinstated for nightly patrol. Good thing too. With the Darkworld rebellion in full swing, they needed all hands—no pun intended.

  “Hey, my brother.” Danel pushed off the back wall of the coffee shop as he materialized and offered him a large double-double. “To fend off the chill.”

  “Thanks, man.” Seth accepted the cardboard mug and flipped the drink spout open. “Fuck, it’s colder than a witch’s tit in a brass bra.”

  Danel shook his head. “You might want to curb the witch slander, my brother. We’ve got one in the family now.”

  Seth rolled his eyes and took a sip of hot java. “It’s a sailor saying, dumbass. It has nothing to do with witches. It’s about cannonballs.”

  Danel shrugged, sipping his coffee as he got them moving toward downtown. “Just sayin’.”

  The two of them stalked the ever-darkening streets in companionable silence while infusing their caffeine addictions. He had a sneaky suspicion the Persian was waiting for him to start the convo and, after a long stretch of silent night, he relented. Since when had they considered what to say around each other? “Fine, get it off your chest.”

  Danel shrugged, pointing south toward the lake. They took the right and headed toward to bustle of Front Street. “I get that you’re pissed at him. Phoenix ramming a dagger into his chest was stupid and selfish and destructive, and everything else you said it was—”

  Seth raised his finger and cut that shit off. “Remember that behind every ‘but’ is an asshole . . . and I’m pretty sure I hear a ‘but’ coming.”

  A pack of post-shopping millennials parted like the Red Sea and let them pass through their little cluster of false confidence. The guys spooked at two six-foot-six hunks in leather striding by. The females flashed them the wide-eyed swoons. Humans only saw their angel side. Lucky for them. The tattooed Mark of their kills was only for those of the Otherworld.

  Seth braced himself, hoping for a good-ole sexual burn. The new norm held tight and the scent of female arousal did nothing for him. He cursed whatever wires had crossed and taken down his libido. He didn’t fucking like it.

  Not. One. Bit.

  “But,” Danel said, oblivious to Seth’s penile problem, “it’s in the past. Phoenix suffered beneath the weight of a massive dark influence and lost his head. He thought he’d lost his mate. His beast snapped its hold. He was overwhelmed by dark magic and couldn’t handle it.”

  “Which I fucking warned everyone would be a disaster,” he said, tossing his empty coffee cup into the roadside garbage.

  “You were right—about all of it. We heard you, but didn’t clue into the truth of the danger until waaaay too late.”

  Seth was mad about that too. His brothers hadn’t taken him seriously and Phoenix nearly died because of it. Actually, there was no ‘nearly’ about it. His twin had lain there in the clutches of death, until he’d gone into his self-imposed purgatory and hauled him back.

  Instead of gratitude or a little love, that got him a face full of fist and a whole lotta get-outta-my-life-you-selfish-prick.

  Nice, right?

  Seth’s beast roared in his head and he clenched his fists. To keep from letting another wild punch loose, he broke away from Danel and decided to feed his beast. He bought two sausage dogs from the street-meat vendor parked at the curb and stuffed his hands way down deep in his pockets.

  Saturday evening in downtown Toronto exploded like a kaleidoscope of people, interests, and events—especially down by Union Station.

  With his dinner ready and dressed to his liking, and his bottle of soda stuffed in his pocket, they got their groove on once again. Danel pointed to the entrance for the Via Train arrivals and he followed, his hands and mouth now occupied so he couldn’t get himself into trouble.

  “You were wrong too,” Danel said, apparently unwilling to let shit settle. “Storme is great, and Phoenix is so fucking in love with her it’s embarrassing to watch the two of them together. They’re trying for a kid, you know. You should be around to be part of it.”

  Seth finished the first of his sausages and took a bite of the second. “Why?”

  “Why try for a kid or why should you be part of it?”

  “Why is it on me? Phoenix middle-fingered everything we ever had and loved about our life. He lied to me, ignored me, and then left me high and dry. He did this—not me.”

  Danel ducked into the corridor that headed down to the Via platform and stepped aside as a woman passed with a baby in one of those three-wheeled jogger-stroller things. “What about the Thea situation? Are you blameless in that too? You were the one who sexed her up, weren’t you?”

  Seth’s mind blew up with endless erotic images. The angel was honestly the hottest female he’d ever laid eyes on. Silky blonde hair that brushed the delicate curve of her lower back. Porcelain, almost iridescent, skin that was softer than humanly possible. The gentle mounds, valleys, and planes of her body, all arranged in perfect heavenly proportion.

  And the sounds she made during sex? Fuck.

  Breathless moans of her pleasure still rang in his skull. Like the scent of their mingled sweat remained lodged in his sinuses.

  Then there was the feel of her skin sliding hot and wet under his fingers. Fuuuuck, his cock went full-hard and his blood started to pound. His footing faltered as both his motherfucking heads throbbed at once. He tossed his napkins in the trash and fought not to scream at the top of his lungs.

  When he thought it safe to speak, he swallowed and gave it a shot. “I’m not discussing the angel with you or anyone else. I’m not going to be that kid’s father. My part in that clusterfuck makes me want to pin the lying bitch to the wall and strangle her for the damage she’s caused. Got it?”

  Danel pointed to a bench against the wall and took a seat. He checked his watch and stared out at the milling crowd. “I might have agreed with yo
u before Ronnie.”

  “Don’t give me the ‘I’m a changed male’ bullshit.”

  Danel scratched the stubble of his ebony goatee. “I get the anger and the betrayal and all the powerful feels that drive your beast—I do. But I gotta tell you, it’s fucking liberating to let that shit go.”

  “You ain’t me. And Ronnie didn’t fuck you over.”

  The rage of being taken as a fool brought him to a point of sheer violence. That his brothers rallied around her and judged him . . . yeah . . . that was killing him.

  Danel leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I’m just sayin’ the sitch is three-dimensional. There’s more than one side to consider.”

  Seth clutched his tether on the furious beast pacing within him. “Not another word, my brother. Seriously, I’m losing my grip here and don’t want to hurt anyone.”

  Kyrian leaned against the outside of the DonorWatch building and lit a second hand-rolled cigarette off the heater of the first. Cassi frowned but held no heat in her gaze. Nephilim didn’t get cancer. Still, she worried.

  “You don’t have to stay,” she said, pointing over her shoulder to the door. “Dougal is here, and Larkin is no threat.”

  Kyrian exhaled and tapped the end of his smoldering vice against the ash stand. “Consider me part of the woodwork. You won’t even know I’m here.”

  Cassi snorted and raised a ginger brow. “Of course, because a massive assassin warrior is so subtle and unassuming. You blend right in. You won’t make Larkin nervous or anything.”

  Kyrian shrugged. “Why do I care if he’s nervous? He should be nervous. You’re his fucking queen and I’m your husband, and protector, and brutal avenger if he so much as makes you frown. There’s no harm in ensuring that message is delivered.”

  She rolled her beautiful, citrine eyes and stepped off the stoop onto the sidewalk. “I have a favor to ask of him and I don’t want you influencing it. If he accepts, I want it to be on his terms, not because my husband frightens him.”

  Yeah, well, frightened was right where Kyrian wanted him. No apologies for that. Daemons were like petulant children; they behaved better when they feared the consequence of angering those bigger and stronger than them.

  “Head back inside, sweetheart. I don’t want you catching a chill.” Dusk had fallen ten minutes earlier, and he was pissed that this asshole had his wife out in the cold, watching for him.

  Cassi ran a graceful hand up the lapel of the cashmere coat he’d bought her and fluffed her beautiful wool scarf. “I’m snug as a bug, love. No need to worry.”

  He butted out and extended his hand. She came without question and the Alpha beast in him reveled in the power of their love. He pulled her against his chest and ran his hands over the soft pile of her jacket.

  As crisp as the air was, his mate gave off plenty of heat. As Shedim were citizens of Hell, they ran hotter than humans.

  “Damn, you smell good,” he said, dropping his nose down the column of her neck to breathe her deep into his lungs. “How about we ditch and go get our naked groove on back at home.”

  Cassi’s body swayed against his and she groaned. “As much as I love the sound of that, I’m meeting Larkin, and then Dougal is escorting me over to meet up with Austin, Thea, Storme, and Ronnie for a girls’ outing.”

  Kyrian pulled back, his beast waving a whole lotta red flags in the air. “An outing? Why is this the first I’m hearing about this? Where? Is the baby going? Who’s run security on this?”

  Cassi shrugged. “Stop panicking. Austin texted me an hour ago and has booked a shop for just us. Ringo is watching the baby. Xxan and Brennus are escorting the others. Dougal is escorting me. There will be plenty of protectors for a simple hour out.”

  “Well, I’ll come too.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t believe you were invited, my love, or your best friend would have texted you too.”

  Kyrian scowled but the logic was sound. Austin knew how much he loved shopping. Why wouldn’t he get the invite?

  “Stop looking so dejected. She probably didn’t want to pull all the protectors off the street. You go. I’ll be fine.”

  He shook his head. “Nice try.”

  Cassi rolled her eyes again and he laughed. She’d picked that up from Austin and he thought it was super cute. “We’ll talk about this after I speak with Larkin. The poor male is standing down the block, afraid to interrupt us.”

  She pointed behind him and Kyrian turned. Yep. The Shedim soldier from her father’s army was indeed loitering down the road, studiously examining the ivy creeping up an old brick building.

  Cassi pointed and gave him a push. “Go stand by the door. I want him to feel welcome.”

  Kyrian’s instinct screamed for him to stand between her and any oncoming male, but she was a queen after all, and needed to command respect and loyalty in her own way.

  After a few tries, he got his feet moving and removed himself from blocking her. “I’ll be right over here. Just steps away. And I’ll be watching his every move.”

  Cassi chuckled. “I have no doubt. Now behave.”

  He struck a pose by the door and unzipped his jacket. When the fancy-haired soldier got close enough, he adjusted the leather, so Larkin caught a full view of his guns and crystalline dagger. Keep it cool, asshole.

  As if he’d been listening for the mental warning, he nodded. “Mistress, thank you for receiving me but you need not be out here on the street waiting. Are you warm enough? Let us step inside where you’ll be safe and warm, shall we?”

  Kyrian slid him a sideways glance. Okay, he’d give him a point for that . . . but he still hated this guy.

  Thea froze just inside the double glass doors of the two-storey Shag Shop and stared. The hum of fluorescent lights buzzed in her head as she tried to comprehend what kind of shopping this store offered. Lingerie, she recognized but . . . “Austin? What is all this? I don’t understand?”

  Austin patted Stetson’s head as Ronnie and Storme giggled.

  She frowned. “Am I the punchline in some sort of joke?”

  The ladies sobered immediately, and Ronnie took her hand. “We promise you, no one is making fun. This store is filled with playful, naughty, sexual delights that give us girly giggles.”

  Austin slid out of her jacket and adjusted the wrist-cuffs she wore to cover her scars. “When I was pregnant, my hormones ran wild. Whether it was a biology thing or a Nephilim thing, my libido issue was intense. I understand what you’re going through, and I sympathize.”

  Ronnie shucked off her coat and folded it into her bag. “I can’t say I know what it’s like to be pregnant, but I know what it’s like to be lonely and have needs.”

  “Exactly,” Storme said, loosening her silk scarf and undoing the top button of her designer blouse. “Men are sexy and virile and make us dampen our panties, no argument, but a woman can be whole and happy without one. Tonight, we’re going to educate you on how to take care of yourself.”

  Ronnie linked elbows with Thea and pulled her deeper into the store. “This, my angel friend, is an adult toy store. Since Austin is at a slight disadvantage here in the Human Realm, let me tell you both what you’re looking at.”

  The feisty female raised a hand and started to point. “Closest to us, on the main floor, we’ve got lingerie and costumes on the right, and movies, CD’s, and board games on the left. There are four draped changing areas on the left wall, which Xxan is currently examining, to ensure our honor remains intact should we choose to try things on.”

  Thea watched as the Seraph warrior with the long purple braid moved from the second to the third cubicle. Him wearing the weapons sash of his station eliminated any chance of blending in on the Toronto streets, but since they had the place to themselves, she doubted there would be an issue.

  Still, she had no doubt the male would slay anyone who gave them trouble or cause for alarm. That is, if they happened to get past Brennus, the massive Celt warrior blocking the door.


  “Fifty feet straight down the center of the store,” Ronnie continued, “is a glass staircase leading up to all things nice and naughty. Up there, you’ll find the wonders of dildos, vibrators, bondage ropes, floggers, strap-ons, et cetera.”

  Storme nodded to the store manager coming their way and laughed. “You seem to have the lay of the land nailed down here, Ronnie. Anything we should know?”

  The Persian’s wife flashed them a wide smile. “It took me over a year to catch Danel’s stubborn, angry attention. A girl’s gotta take care of business in the meantime.”

  “Exactly,” Austin said, urging Stetson forward. “And that’s why we’re here. Thea, welcome to Female Independence 101.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Seth shook the hand of the shifter male Danel had arranged to meet at the train station. The guy, a stocky, military type with long blond hair, seemed aloof and edgy. He carried one beaten-to-shit canvas duffle and, if he was who and what he claimed, William Derango just became their new best friend.

  “Welcome to Toronto,” Danel said, holding out his left hand to greet him. “It’s nice to meet you, William.”

  “Wilder,” he said, accepting D’s proffered digits. “I go by Wilder.”

  Seth nodded, and the three of them exited the echo of Union Station and emerged into the open night of the city. To give the guy a minute to get his bearings, he headed over and bought three bags of beer nuts.

  “The water to the south of us is . . .?”

  “Lake Ontario,” Danel said, accepting one of the little wax bags filled with warm goodness.

  Wilder took his and pointed to the lit buildings in the direct skyline to the left. “CN Tower and SkyDome, right?”

  “Close enough,” Danel said, popping a handful of nuts into his mouth. “They’re always changing the name of the dome but yeah, that’s it.”

  Wilder nodded and took in a sweeping panoramic. “It’s a nice-looking city, all lit up.”

  “Thanks,” Seth said, leading the way toward the crosswalk at Front Street. “We try to keep it that way. So, it’s your first time to the GTA?”

 

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