Fated Bonds (Angel's Fate Book 1)

by Tessa Cole

  And I’d been an idiot, distracted by her kneeling close, her warm hands pressed against me, and her breath feathering over my aching flesh. I hadn’t realized until it was too late that she was going to heal everything completely and drain herself dry.

  My power flared and curled up my forearms, and molten fire poured onto the ground.

  Shit.

  I clenched my jaw and heaved my fire back under my skin. It writhed and snapped against my will, searing my insides as I fought to get my emotions back under control.

  I needed to take another assignment out of town. It was the only way to regain what little hold I had on my emotions.

  My brother was safe. He didn’t need my protection — not that I’d been able to protect him or anyone in the last few weeks. Hell, he was mated to a powerful super who I had no doubt would destroy the world if something happened to him, and he was happy.

  Amiah wasn’t.

  But I couldn’t give her what she desired. Not without risking burning everything around me.

  My emotions churned stronger, my fire threatening to break free. I hadn’t realized I’d fallen in love with my best friend until the war had pulled us apart. When it was done, things between us were different. Because I was different.

  She hadn’t gotten through the war without psychological scars, I don’t think anyone had, but my psychological scars were bigger and deeper. My magic was best suited for the front lines and special ops, and I’d turned myself into a force of destruction, my rage at the injustice of a senseless war turning my magic into a firestorm that burned everything to ash.

  And a part of me had enjoyed it. I’d embraced the monster inside me, finally released my hold on my emotions, and wreaked vengeance on Michael’s army for the murder of millions… for the murder of my youngest brother. I hadn’t cared about rules or order, only justice.

  I couldn’t lose control like that again.

  Except my fire magic had gained strength during the war and had become harder to control. Moderate levels of emotions that hadn’t affected it before, affected it now, and it wasn’t just rage that made it burn hotter. It was every emotion.

  And at the moment, I was barely holding on with the memory of that demon-vampire hybrid stabbing at Amiah playing over and over again in my mind. I’d almost failed her, just like I’d failed to protect my brother, Dominic, against Michael, and Gideon in the fight against Lilith.

  I’d thought once I’d figured out how to control my fire, I could tell Amiah the truth, tell her that I’d really fallen in love with her the moment I found her chained in that faith healer’s tent, drained, and clinging to life. But then she joined the JP to follow Marcus, and I realized I’d never be able to be the man she wanted.

  Marcus was fierce, his emotions powerful and untamed like many shifters, and he was free to show them. Most shifters loved hard whether they were mated or not, and with Amiah setting her sights on Marcus, it was clear. She’d finally figured out what she wanted. Passion.

  Which I had. But like all my emotions, rage, fear, joy, it too was connected to my fire, and I could never let go enough to fully show it.

  A hot spark snapped against the concrete, the sound sharp and loud even against the noise from the nightclub under Bane’s apartment.

  I was barely holding it together as it was. Letting go to embrace and show my desires was too dangerous. People would get hurt. Amiah would get hurt.

  She’d always been careful with her heart. I wasn’t even sure I’d ever seen her show interest in anyone until Marcus, and even then, unless you knew her well, you probably wouldn’t have noticed… not until Essie Shaw had shown up.

  I didn’t know what Amiah had been waiting for with him, but I was glad she’d never made a move on her feelings. It made me ache and my fire burn hotter knowing how hurt she must have been — must still be — when he formed a soul bond with Essie. I couldn’t imagine how much more she’d be hurting if she’d actively pursued him or if they’d had an intimate relationship before everyone realized he was fated to love someone else.

  But just because Marcus wasn’t the one for her, didn’t mean she didn’t still deserve the intense passion of a shifter. She deserved everything she wanted. And I was God damned going to protect her to make sure she got it.

  An average-height, muscular figure dressed in typical black JP fatigues strode into sight from down the alley. He had a backpack slung over one shoulder and his gait was sure, strong, radiating the power of a werewolf. Chris Karsten. He and Nathaniel usually secured crime scenes after the main team had dealt with the dangerous situations, and from what I could tell from his JP files, he was easy-going, orderly, and highly competent. Competent enough that he could probably put in a transfer and request to join a primary team. Except his family and his pack were in Union and, in the time we’d spent working together over the last couple of weeks, I’d learned he was happy being a secondary agent in order to stay where he was.

  I clamped down even harder on my emotions, turning my fire into curling smoke, before Chris realized how close I was to losing it. It wasn’t good that I couldn’t get my flames fully under control, but it was the best I was going to get, what with Amiah’s condition and whatever this mess was with Bane and Titus.

  “Jesus,” Chris said, as he approached, his gaze sliding over my bruised, bloody, and shirtless body, his expression tight with concern. “What the hell happened? Is Amiah okay?”

  “She is.” No thanks to me. “She’s fine.” But that was all I was going to say. She wouldn’t appreciate me saying she’d foolishly drained herself to exhaustion, and she certainly wouldn’t want me mentioning the leash spell. Especially since she’d be free in the morning.

  “Good. I figured something had happened if you both needed a change of clothes, but I didn’t expect—” He blew out a heavy breath, and handed over the backpack.

  “Thank you for this. Get Nathaniel, Jasmine, and Summer and go to the park ring. We were attacked by a male nightmare, a male demon-vampire hybrid, and a male shadow fae.”

  Chris’s eyebrows shot up. “A shadow fae?”

  “Yeah. He can blend into the shadows like a wraith.” I pulled out my phone to send him the location of our fight. “I want everything you can find, forensics, tracks, if you pick up scents that don’t match me, Amiah, or Bane. See if you can figure out where they came from or where they went. But,” I said as I leveled a hard glare at him to ensure he understood I was serious, “if you see them, don’t approach, not until we have a better idea who they are. These guys are dangerous.”

  “Copy that.” Chris’s attention shifted to the door behind me and I could see the question in his eyes. Why weren’t we back at Operations? There was no reason for Amiah to treat someone outside of her medical facility. “Anything else I need to know?” he asked.

  “I’m sure lots, but I don’t know it either.” The smoke curling from my hands thickened and I sucked it back before it turned into flames. “I hope I’ll have more in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir,” Chris said with a tight nod. “I’ll text you if I find anything that can’t wait.”

  “Thanks.” I watched him stride back down the alley as I took deep breaths that twinged the still tender cuts across my chest and side in an attempt to lock down my emotions before I went back inside. I still had to talk to Amiah again before this night was done, and I needed to lock everything down to do it. The moment Bane had told her she was magically linked to Titus that same look in her eyes that she’d had when I’d found her all those years ago had flashed across her expression. Desperate, terrified, hopeless.

  A spark snapped from my hands.

  She’d recovered her composure quickly, but it was all an act and I had no idea how to help her and that was making it nearly impossible to keep my emotions in check.

  Chapter 7

  Amiah

  I slept fitfully, the agony in my chest and the ache around my throat, making it impossible to get comfortable. That, and my min
d kept whirling, spinning between being trapped by the leash spell and having told Sebastian about my brand, something I’d never told anyone else about… not to mention how I’d actually considered paying Sebastian with sex or how much it had stung when he’d offered different payment terms.

  I couldn’t believe I’d done or thought that, and I prayed he wouldn’t say anything about it in front of Cassius. I wouldn’t be able to keep a strong appearance if Cassius’s concern grew — I was barely holding it together as it was — and without a doubt he’d be concerned that I’d want to get rid of my brand.

  It also hadn’t helped that I’d slept in Sebastian’s borrowed clothes, too tired to change into the scrubs Chris had brought over after I’d dragged my exhausted, aching body out of the shower and let Cassius have his turn. I’d thought I’d be fine sleeping in Sebastian’s T-shirt and shorts, but all night long, all I could smell was a fresh evergreen scent that without a doubt was Sebastian’s. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him, about the heated look in his eyes and that whisper of a touch that made my body throb and how he’d just turned it all off, clearly not interested.

  I gave up on sleep just before dawn and went into the bathroom to splash water on my face in the hope that I wouldn’t look as run down as I felt and Cassius wouldn’t be as worried as he’d been last night.

  Except a quick glance in the mirror revealed that splashing a little water wasn’t going to do much to mitigate any of Cassius’s concerns. Sure, he wasn’t going to notice my dimmer than usual angel glow, or my tired expression, because he was going to be staring at the massive dark red bruise around my neck in the shape of Titus’s large hand.

  Just wonderful. If I didn’t want him fussing, I was going to have to heal myself. Except my magic wasn’t even halfway back to full and I’d need at least a full night’s sleep more to recover all of it. Which meant I needed to see how much more healing Titus needed before turning my magic on myself. Because without a doubt, Sebastian would want to go on the run with Titus or start a fight or something dangerous to deal with those men, and I couldn’t risk Titus still being injured when they did that.

  My injuries could wait. It took a lot more magic to heal myself than everyone else and just like when I healed everyone else, I couldn’t pick and choose what to heal. My magic always mended the worst injury first. Which meant it would heal my cracked ribs before my bruise, and that meant healing to the point of getting rid of the bruise would drain what little power I’d managed to recover. I wasn’t so vain as to let Titus continue suffering especially when his life was in danger just to avoid an argument with Cassius.

  With a sigh, I ran my fingers through my long blond locks, combing out the tangles and braiding it back so it was out of my way — which was only a temporary solution because I didn’t have anything to tie off the braid. I considered changing into the scrubs, but some of Titus’s deepest lacerations could still be bleeding, and it was better to get Sebastian’s clothes bloody than the only change of clothes I could reasonably wear to walk out of Sebastian’s apartment. No way was I showing up at Operations wearing his clothes and giving everyone something to gossip about.

  Besides, after this morning everything would be fine—

  Well, maybe not fine, but at least on track. I’d no longer be trapped by the leash spell, I could get away from Sebastian and his flirtation and regain my composure, and I wouldn’t have to worry about Cassius seeing me as that weak, pathetic angel he’d rescued all those years ago. I’d be back in control and soon free of my mating brand.

  So long as I didn’t think about the fear currently squeezing my heart — and the cause was going to be gone before the morning was out — I was okay. There was hope and I could hold out a few hours longer.

  As quietly as possible, I tiptoed across the hall to Sebastian’s other guestroom and eased open the door, hoping Titus was still sleeping and I wouldn’t wake him. Given his violent reaction last night, it was foolish of me to check on him without Sebastian or Cassius, but I’d snuck in and checked on hundreds of patients before, many with highly acute senses, without waking them. I could check on Titus, top him up, and be gone before he stirred without needing to bother anyone, and more importantly without Cassius realizing I’d slept in Sebastian’s clothes.

  And yes, that was an irrational thought. What did I care if Cassius saw me wearing Sebastian’s clothes? What did I care if Sebastian saw me? But I did care. It would open me up to questions from Cassius and teasing from Sebastian, and after last night’s concern and rejection, I didn’t want to deal with either.

  Inside the bedroom, Titus lay on his side facing me, his shaggy dark red hair veiling one eye, the other eye closed and his chest rising and falling with the steady breath of sleep. The comforter had slipped down to his waist, and in daylight, without the chaos of the fight, he looked even bigger and bulkier — and more intimidating — than he had last night.

  A thick ragged scar encircled his one visible wrist, and I could see a hint of another scar on his neck, injuries I knew too well from healing Michael’s captives.

  The sight sent a shudder racing through me. My captivity at the hands of that human almost a hundred years before Michael’s war hadn’t resulted in physical scars, but I knew many held in captivity weren’t so lucky.

  Titus’s skin, what I could see around the many bandages, was mottled with dark purple bruises, some with hints of green as if they were almost a week old, not less than twelve hours old, and the lacerations that had been too small to worry about bandaging had sealed shut and were faint pink lines.

  All of which spoke to an exceptional level of healing, and a deplorable degree of imprisonment.

  If his healing was that good, it would have taken a lot for a long time to make scars like the ones he had on his wrist and neck.

  At least his exceptional healing meant I wouldn’t need to give him much more to finish knitting his broken bones back together and strengthen his newly healed organs. Then a quick shift into his beast would finish the job. That might even leave me enough magic to heal my ribs and my neck and avoid comments from Cassius.

  I crept to Titus’s bedside, placed a gentle hand on his massive biceps, and let my magic connect with his body.

  All of his bones, even the ones I hadn’t had enough power to heal, were healed, his organs were strong as if they hadn’t been damaged at all, and every laceration had sealed shut, although the deepest ones looked like they were still tender.

  Sebastian hadn’t lied. Titus was a fast healer. I didn’t think I’d ever come across someone — incubi and succubi excepted — who healed so quickly, not even a greater demon.

  For a second, I contemplated leaving him as he was and letting his natural healing finish the job. If he shifted in and out of his beast form then stayed out of trouble, he’d be fine by the evening, even his bruises would be gone.

  But those were the key words: if he stayed out of trouble.

  I had no idea what Sebastian was planning, and while Titus was big and Sebastian magically powerful, that didn’t mean they’d be able to get through the next fight without serious injury.

  The thought of Sebastian gravely injured made my stomach churn. I might not like the way he did things or how he teased me, but he’d come through for the JP recently when we were desperate. That, and I’d already saved his life once before. I didn’t want all that hard work to go to waste. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t finish healing Titus and something happened to Sebastian. And unlike Sebastian and Titus, I wasn’t about to jump headlong into trouble.

  I drew in a steadying breath, sliced agony through my chest, and pushed past the pain to reach the still-weak spark of magic in my palms. It flared at my mental touch, pushing against my mental grip, but I easily kept it contained. There was no need for this healing to be painful, and besides, painful would wake him up, defeating the purpose of healing him without him noticing.

  I focused my magic into the hand I had presse
d against his arm, and released a small stream, but before the stream could flow into him, he seized my wrist and wrenched me forward.

  With a yelp, I tumbled on top of him, and in one swift movement, he rolled, pinning me under his massive body, shooting agony through my chest.

  His hand clamped around my throat again and our gazes locked, his expression stunned.

  For a second there was only him. No fear, no pain, nothing, as if my mind and soul had stalled unable to register on anything else but him, not even the danger he presented.

  He radiated a wild, unbridled intensity that stole all breath and thought. My body heated at his quick exhales washing over my cheeks, the press of his thighs on either side of mine boxing me in, and his pelvis pinning me to the mattress.

  The vein in his neck pulsed under the ragged scar, the beats growing faster, and with a blink, the shock vanished from his golden eyes. He jerked closer, lurching my thoughts back into action, and snarled, revealing sharp extended canines.

  “Don’t scream and answer my questions and I won’t snap your neck.” His grip around my throat tightened.

  The fear I should have had the moment he’d grabbed me slammed into me and my lungs screamed for air. I clawed at his hands and jerked against his weight, but that only sliced more pain through me, stealing what little breath I had left and sending flecks of darkness across my vision.

  “Nod if you understand,” he said, his expression hard, his intention clear: if I even squeaked too loudly, he’d kill me. Rage and fear and determination now filled his eyes, I wasn’t even sure if I’d seen his wide-eyed stunned look or just imagined it. What I did know was that someone had cast that horrible leash spell on him and imprisoned him. He’d do anything, kill anyone, to be free, and I was about to become a casualty.

  I gasped against his grip, instinct making me continue to heave against him, desperate to be free. Pain burned my chest and the darkness in my vision swelled.