“Why you? Why did Lucifer send you?” It was a death sentence. It wasn’t the first time Lucifer had tried to have him eliminated, but it was the first attempt for several thousand years. “You’re not capable of killing me.”
She bristled at his words. “I’m capable.” Then she paused and honestly added, “Or maybe not. I don’t know. He came to me and told me if I killed you, my contract would be canceled, and I could have my life back. If I failed, I would forfeit my soul for eternity.”
“But you have a contract,” he pointed out. There were rules for every paranormal creature, no matter how powerful, and contracts could not be broken.
She snorted. “Yeah, and if I survive the twenty-five years, fifteen of which I have left, I’m free. It’s the survival clause that gets me. If I die, he gets my soul for eternity. If I fail this job, I’ll end up back in Hell, and it will be open season on me. I doubt I’ll survive fifteen years of assassination attempts.”
She glanced down at the floor and scuffed her bare toe against the hardwood. “He told me to get close to you, to do whatever I had to do.”
Maccus blood ran cold. “I see.” And he did. Lucifer was a compelling force and her boss. She might have found release multiple times, but she hadn’t come to him freely.
“That’s not why I slept with you,” she continued, shooting him a glare.
“No?” Something inside him hardened. The tiny light of his soul dimmed.
“No.” She shook her head. “People think Hell is fiery, but for me, it’s frigid. I’ve been cold for so long.” Her green eyes seemed to deepen in color, tugging at something inside him. “Being with you.” She rubbed her hands over her thighs, the nervous gesture almost endearing. “It’s the first time I’ve been warm in ten years.”
It’s a lie.
She was an accomplished liar, a bounty hunter tasked with doing whatever was necessary to get close to him, to kill him. Her freedom was on the line, her very soul.
Yet, every sense he possessed told him she was telling the truth.
Or maybe he only wanted to believe.
One thing had become crystal clear. He needed to keep her alive and with him until he figured out why she was important enough for Gabriel to put out a hit on her and why Lucifer himself had tasked her with killing him.
“There’s no such thing as coincidence,” he told her.
“I know.” Her voice was soft and accepting. “So, where does that leave us?”
He gripped her chin in his hand and tilted her head back. She didn’t fight him. A part of him wished she would.
“Together.” Frustration and longing burned inside him. Needing a release for the volatile emotions churning inside him, he slammed his mouth down on hers. She didn’t flinch, taking all he gave her and demanding more.
It both pleased and infuriated him.
If he could, he’d go back twenty-four hours, become the cold, unfeeling assassin he’d been for thousands of years, the man both Heaven and Hell had made him.
Something about Morrigan and her situation touched the tiny sliver of decency that still existed inside him. Maybe that was it. Maybe killing her would push him over the edge, make him truly a monster.
But why her? Why was she the catalyst?
What am I missing?
When he raised his head, her lips were moist, her skin warm, and her eyes held the look of a woman well loved.
“Let’s go out for breakfast.” If they stayed here, they’d end up in bed. He was close to grabbing her and carrying her back there. But he had questions that needed answers, possibilities to ponder and consider. And he couldn’t do any of it on an empty stomach.
That shook her back to her normal state in a hurry. “Out?” She pointed toward the window. “Out there?” She jabbed a finger at the bloody symbols on the wall. “What was the point of that if we’re just going to hunt up trouble?”
“That was to keep them out of my home. I hate visitors.” When she winced, he wished he could call back his words. A first for him. “But until we know more, we’re in the dark about why two of the most powerful supernatural beings have set us up to kill each other.”
She slowly nodded. “I don’t have to like it, but you’re right. Can I trust you?”
With some reluctance that he shook his head. “No more than I can trust you. We both want to survive. That means one of us has to die.” He hoped it didn’t come down to that. Normally, he had no problems killing. The creatures he’d slain over the span of his life had deserved to die. He didn’t think Morrigan fit into that category.
But what did he really know about her?
She had a story, a good one, but how much of it was real? He’d have to do some digging to find out more about her and her sister. They could be working together.
She was his lover and potential executioner. Best to keep her as close as possible.
…
Less than an hour later, Morrigan stepped out onto the sidewalk with Maccus by her side. She didn’t want to think about him as Hunter. That guy was the bogeyman and used to scare even the strongest of demons.
Maccus was the sexy hot lover who’d blown her mind with pleasure.
He was once again dressed all in black—jeans that clung to his thighs, a T-shirt so tight it might as well have been painted on, and the same leather jacket he’d worn last night. Sexy and dangerous were the best way to describe him.
She, on the other hand, was clean but grungy. She’d scrubbed the blood from her pants and jacket, but her top had been a write-off. She wore one of Maccus’s shirts, which swallowed her smaller frame and hung below her jacket.
Clothes were secondary to her. She never left home without her edged weapons and gun. A girl had to have her priorities straight.
“Where are we going?” It bothered her that she had no idea. In her experience, life worked better with a plan.
Kayley’s face popped into her head. Nope. She couldn’t let her mind go there. She had to focus.
Everything else could wait.
“Diner just around the corner. Good food, and if anyone is keeping tabs on us, we won’t make it hard for them to find us.”
Morrigan wished she had his confidence. Maybe it was no big deal to him to go up against Lucifer or an angel. Truthfully, she’d much prefer to avoid it at all costs. “Who?” she asked. It had been bugging her since she’d laid her eyes on the contract.
“Who what?” He surveyed their surroundings, his dark eyes missing nothing.
“Who was the angel that put out the contract?” Call it her need to know.
“Gabriel.” He tossed the name out as he turned a corner.
She came to a complete stop, her heart stuttering. She sucked in a deep breath of the early morning air and then wished she hadn’t. The city air was brutal on someone with her enhanced senses.
“The Gabriel? The archangel?”
“Yes.”
Just yes, no trying to soften the blow or sugarcoat anything. It was extremely callous. It was also reassuring. Maccus didn’t bother to waste time lying to her.
And considering everything she’d been through, she actually appreciated that.
“An archangel wants me dead,” she whispered. Why? What had she done to attract an archangel’s attention?
Maccus placed his hand on the small of her back and gave a light push to get her moving again. He guided her toward the door of a rather nondescript diner. The heat seeped through the layers of clothing and into her skin.
“It’s not that big a deal.”
She came to a dead stop in the open doorway. “Not that big a deal,” she repeated. It was official. Maccus was a crazy man. “How can you say that?”
He shrugged. “He’s wanted me dead for years. And he’s likely not the only one. I’ve killed almost as many angels as demons over the years.”
<
br /> “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Honestly, the man was too nonchalant about killing. She’d been a bounty hunter for a decade, had seen all manner of horrible things, but she didn’t think she’d ever get to the point where it became mundane.
Or maybe she would.
How long had he been alive, anyway? He could pass for mid-thirties, but looks were deceiving. It had to be a very, very long time.
Draping his arm over her shoulders, he eased her inside. The place was long and narrow, the only windows at the very front. “Let’s continue this at our table.” He pointed to a booth at the back. She went straight for it and slid onto the seat where she’d have a clear sightline of the rest of the room, leaving the bench opposite her for him.
He didn’t even glance at it but shoved in alongside her, so she was plastered against the wall.
She should have expected it. No way he’d put his back to the door. He’d always do exactly as he pleased.
Lesson learned.
“Do you mind?” She glared at him and drove her elbow into his side to try to make enough room for herself.
“Not at all.” Was that a teasing note in his voice? She shot him a glance, but he was scoping out the place, his expression dark and foreboding. In other words, totally normal for him.
A waitress bustled up to the table and placed two menus in front of them. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.” She was desperate for a hit. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon before setting out on her hunt.
“The usual,” Maccus told her and handed the menu back.
If the waitress knew his usual order, he’d been here many times before. The idea of him having a favorite diner made him seem more… Not human, because he would never be that, but more like her.
Not that she was a normal human. Not anymore.
Morrigan quickly scanned the menu. “Pancakes and bacon. Real maple syrup if you have it. Orange juice, too.” She’d worked up an appetite. And didn’t the condemned get a good meal?
To keep herself busy while they waited, she added sugar to the coffee the waitress brought to their table. The first sip settled her nerves somewhat.
The diner was like a million others around the country. It was clean but ordinary. No fancy decor, just booths against the wall, a few tables, and stools along the counter and in front of the window. The daily specials were on a whiteboard behind the cash register, and the cook worked nonstop at the grill. It looked as though it had been around for decades and would likely be for more to come.
The pleasant scents of food filled the air, and the prices were good. And so was the service because in no time the waitress was putting plates on the table.
She only had one. Maccus got four filled with everything from waffles to eggs and toast and, of course, bacon.
“You need anything else?” the waitress asked.
“We’re good,” he told her.
“Sure you’ve got enough?”
One corner of his mouth quirked the slightest bit upward. Morrigan held her breath and waited, but the smile never appeared. “Need to keep up my energy.”
Pointedly ignoring the sexual innuendo, she flooded her pancakes with syrup before taking her first bite. Delicious. “So what’s the plan?” she asked as she chewed.
She hoped he had one. She sure as heck didn’t.
“We enjoy our meal. Someone will show up eventually.”
She shrugged, not nearly as confident as he was, but she wasn’t about to let worry spoil her appetite. She was itching to ask about his past, what it was like being an angel, how he’d ended up falling, but that wasn’t the kind of thing you just asked a guy, even if you’d had sex with him.
Still, the curiosity gnawed at her. There was so much she didn’t know about him. “So,” she began but stopped when the door opened. She carefully put down her fork. A man walked in, a blast of power preceding him.
Big and blond, his intense blue eyes missed nothing as they swept the room. The dress shirt he wore with a pair of faded blue jeans was so white it seemed to glow. He also didn’t seem to be the least bit interested in Maccus as he wove his way toward them. No, his attention was all on her.
What little she’d eaten curdled in her stomach while her brain flashed a warning sign. Danger!
The humans in the diner shifted uneasily. Their instincts hadn’t totally deserted them. Several threw some money on their table and left, while others seemed too enthralled to move.
“This wasn’t what I’d expected,” the man said when he casually stopped alongside their table. She hated being pinned into the corner, unable to get to her weapons quickly. Ever so slowly, so as not to attract attention, she drew the blade, keeping it tucked down by her thigh. It was better than nothing.
Maccus kept on eating, supremely uninterested in and unconcerned by their visitor. A quick jab in the ribs from her elbow, and he sighed and set down his fork and knife. “You’re interrupting my breakfast,” he told the man. “This is the second morning you’ve disrupted my first cup of coffee.”
“You’ll just have to forgive me.” The sarcasm was so cutting she was surprised Maccus wasn’t bleeding.
“No, I don’t.” It took her a second to realize he was telling this man he didn’t have to forgive him.
“We had a contract.”
Holy shit! This was the archangel, Gabriel. A Catholic in her previous life, she had the overwhelming urge to cross herself. Except this angel had put out a hit on her. Kinda put a damper on her first encounter with a real angelic being.
“I haven’t signed it.” Maccus picked up his coffee and sipped.
Frustration bled from the angel, but he made no move toward her. Which really surprised her. As an angel, he could kill her without breaking a sweat. Why then was he trying to hire Maccus?
Feeling a little safer, she relaxed, but only slightly. Things could change in a heartbeat. It was always best to be ready. But it was also a smart tactic to make her opponent angry. Angry men made mistakes. Didn’t matter if they were human, demon, or angel.
She picked up her coffee like she didn’t have a care in the world and managed to swallow the tiniest sip. Any bigger and she’d choke on it.
“Why haven’t you?” A muscle pulsed just beneath Gabriel’s eye, and his jaw clenched. Yup, he was getting irritated, but now all his attention was on Maccus.
The fallen angel leaned back and shrugged. “Call me curious. Why the contract for Morrigan? And why does Lucifer want her to kill me?”
Gabriel frowned. “Lucifer sent her to kill you?” Then he laughed. The bastard had the nerve to laugh. “I should send him a thank-you card, maybe some flowers or a fruit basket for making things easier for me.”
It was official. She hated angels just as much as she did demons. They all sucked. Except for Maccus. In spite of everything, she did like him, which wasn’t healthy, but it was all a matter of degrees.
A bead of sweat rolled down her back. It wasn’t easy to stay calm when an archangel and a fallen angel assassin discussed her death with her sitting right here.
Maccus gripped her thigh under the table and gave a light squeeze before releasing her. Was he trying to comfort her? Doubtful. Most likely, he was warning her not to do something rash or stupid.
And he was right. She was about thirty seconds from going over the table and stabbing the angel in the eye. It wouldn’t kill him, but it would damn well hurt while he was healing.
“I’ll take her from here.” The angel was nothing if not arrogant if he thought she was just going to go meekly with him like some lamb to the slaughter. But wasn’t that what she’d done with Lucifer?
No, she’d been protecting her sister—or, at least, had believed so.
She slid her other hand beneath her jacket, withdrew her gun, and held it low. A confrontation here would be bad. They didn�
�t need the cops involved.
“No.” Maccus said nothing more. She’d half expected him to hand her over and wipe his hands of the situation. If she were in his shoes, she probably would have.
“No?” Gabriel seemed as perplexed as she was. “What do you mean, no?”
“It means you can’t have her. I’m not done with her yet.”
Okay, that could be good or bad. Morrigan couldn’t be certain. But any time she gained could be used to help figure a way out of this situation.
As long as I’m alive, there’s hope.
Then the front door to the diner was shoved open, and a man stepped inside. Her heart sank, her stomach clenched, and hope died a quick death. She had to work to control her breath, to keep from jumping up and running away while screaming her lungs out.
Dressed in one of his custom suits with a red tie and handmade leather shoes, Lucifer strolled across the diner like he owned it. And maybe he did. The devil had myriad business interests all over the world.
He glanced at the angel and Maccus before finally settling his gaze on her. “Seems you haven’t been doing your job.”
Chapter Eight
Maccus was intrigued. He’d half expected Gabriel to send an underling, not show himself. It was more his style to delegate. The angel had not only brought the contract himself, but now Lucifer had joined them.
Every instinct that had kept him alive when he should have perished screamed that Morrigan was to be protected at all costs. Whatever was going on between these two, she was at the center of it. That made her valuable.
Plus, he wasn’t done having sex with her yet.
Both were valid reasons for keeping her safe.
“You sent a bounty hunter to kill me.” Maccus shook his head in mock dismay. “You don’t think much of my skills.” And after the thousands of years he’d spent wreaking havoc in Hell, Lucifer damn well did know better.
The ruler of Hell shrugged. “It was worth a shot. I figured she could distract you with sex and then slip a blade through your heart.”
Morrigan practically vibrated with fear and fury, but she remained steady beside him, even faced with two of the most powerful beings in any realm. It impressed and bothered him. Was there more to her than she’d let on? Or was she simply courageous?
Fury Unleashed Page 7
