Fury Unleashed

by N. J. Walters

  She raced to the fire door and yanked it open. “This way,” she yelled. Exposure to humans was strictly controlled by both Heaven and Hell. She was banking that the angel wouldn’t reveal his true presence. It was a calculated risk, but so far, both sides had played by that rule.

  As people poured into the alley, she slipped her gun back in its holster and helped the club patrons move toward the relative safety of the street. Sirens screamed in the distance as emergency services poured in to handle the calls for help.

  It was a stark reminder of how much they depended on power, on light for a sense of safety and security. Take it away, and the world quickly tumbled into chaos.

  She sensed Marcus was close, but he kept to the shadows. The angel had vanished.

  Adrenaline pumped through her veins. A sick sensation spread outward from her stomach. She saw no way out of this. Both sides were toying with her, making her an unwilling pawn in their twisted games.

  Hate burned hot inside her before solidifying into pure ice. It was a chained beast straining to get loose and tear everyone and everything to shreds.

  I deserve vengeance.

  The sly whisper soothed some of the fury. Someone should pay. Killing someone would be sweet and satisfying. All she had to do was take what was rightfully hers.

  Dagger in hand, she took a step toward the street where people lingered like lambs awaiting the slaughter.

  “What is wrong with me? What am I doing?” Sweat beaded on her forehead as she lifted one finger at a time back. It was harder than it should have been to make herself open her hand and release the dagger. Only it didn’t drop to the ground. Held by some unseen force, it hovered in the air in front of her.

  Maccus stalked toward her, his brows furrowed, his scowl as dark as night. He grabbed the weapon from the air.

  Would he use it on her?

  She shook off the morbid thought. All the hair on her arms rose. A shiver raced down her spine even as sweat beaded on her forehead.

  Moving slowly, as if not to startle her, he slid the weapon back where it belonged and then took her hand. His touch grounded her, driving back the negativity that had invaded her.

  “What’s happening to me?” It was scary to have all these destructive emotions pushing down on her. They weren’t her. She would never kill a human unless it was to save her own life. And even then, it would depend on the circumstances.

  “Too much power. Conflicting power.” He held up his free hand. “Shadows and light. Both sides of the same coin, both able to do great harm and great good.” He glanced around the deserted alley. “We need to leave.”

  She lowered her head and took a breath, trying to settle her racing heart and ease the sick sensation in her stomach. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of something. Whipping around, she faced this new threat, but there was no one there.

  But there had been. She was certain of it.

  “Don’t worry. That was a friend, of sorts.”

  “You have friends?” She cringed as soon as she spoke. It wasn’t like her to be cruel.

  He seemed unaffected. “Of sorts,” he repeated as he led her to the street. It was already almost empty as people sought refuge somewhere safer.

  Senses heightened—she scanned the area for any new threat. With each step she took, some of the rage and sickness left her. They walked toward home since it was their only option. After a couple of blocks, she curled her fingers between his.

  He gave her hand an almost imperceptible squeeze.

  “What was that about?” she asked. “Lucifer sent me on a hunt to get me out of your warded apartment. Then Gabriel shows up and tries to kill me. Why? I thought that was your job.”

  He didn’t stop, didn’t slow. If anything, he was moving faster. “Maybe he believes your death will hurt me in some way. Maybe he’s hoping I’ll get tired of protecting you and kill you to get him off my back.”

  “And will you?” It was a fair question, but he glared at her, his black eyes burning as red as any demon’s.

  Chapter Twelve

  To say he was pissed was the understatement of the century. What was Gabriel up to? Lucifer, he understood. The devil wanted him to get closer to Morrigan so she’d have an opportunity to kill him.

  Or was that his purpose at all? She wasn’t skilled enough to handle him. And that wasn’t a slur on her skills but a testament to his own. Maybe Lucifer was hoping he’d kill her but was being sneakier about how he went about it.

  Whatever their motivation, when Gabriel had fired a bolt of light at Morrigan, his instinct had been to protect her. Not himself.

  That made her extremely dangerous. She weakened him in a way he’d never been before. Made him vulnerable. And now the archangel knew it.

  Maybe that had been the entire point of the exercise.

  But Morrigan had used her intelligence instead of a weapon to outwit her enemy. Opening the door for the humans had been inspired. Ignoring her question, he asked one of his own. “Why did you call your supervisor?” Bringing another paranormal—especially one on the devil’s side—into the mix was risky.

  “Emmett?” When he nodded, she continued. “I figured Gabriel would try to kill the demon. Lucifer could say I didn’t complete the bounty and would have no choice but to drag me back to Hell. Calling Emmett was the lesser of two evils.”

  “Smart thinking.” He kept a tight grip on her, enjoying the way their fingers laced together. It was an unusual sensation. One that wasn’t familiar, but he liked it. He checked both ways before stepping out into the street to cross it. “Will there be repercussions?” He had no idea how much power this Emmett had over her.

  She shrugged and hurried to keep up with him. “Probably. If he recognized you or Gabriel, he’ll have questions. But since I’m on a secret project for Lucifer, I can’t say anything. On the plus side, I did collect the bounty.” She tilted her head back and looked up at the darkened sky. “He’ll likely give it some time to see if this blows over and things go back to normal, or if I end up dead and back in Hell. Emmett isn’t stupid. You can’t get to his position without some brains. He has to realize the boss has a hand in this.”

  “Good. Then he won’t be a problem.” If he became one in the future, Maccus would deal with him. He might have been asked to leave Hell. That didn’t mean he couldn’t go back and kick some ass if he chose to.

  “Crap.” Morrigan’s tone had him searching the darkness for enemies. He trusted the shadows to warn him. They were more sentient than people—human or inhuman—believed. And they spoke to him, giving him information, sensing a kindred spirit, treating him as one of them.

  “What is it?” If there was some trouble that he couldn’t find, he had to know what it was and why he didn’t sense it. He’d survived all this time by learning and adapting, by growing and honing his skills, new and old.

  “Roving band of idiots at two o’clock.” Sure enough, just off to their right and angling toward them were a group of young human males. They swaggered down the sidewalk, their laughter rolling before them. They were taking advantage of the power outage to wreak some havoc.

  One of them held a bat and smashed several store windows as he passed. They hooted and hollered when the glass shattered. Morrigan was right in her assessments—idiots. But they were still dangerous and likely armed with a lot more than just a bat.

  “Hey, big guy.” The man in the lead proved his assessment by whipping a gun out from under his T-shirt and pointing it at Maccus. “Give me your wallet.” He glanced at Morrigan and let his gaze travel over her body from head to toe, lingering the longest at her breasts. “And we’ll be taking your bitch, too.”

  Maccus stepped in front of her and simply stared at the man. His friends had gathered around him now. Humans or demons, get a group of males together, throw in some alcohol or other substance, and they inevitably looked
for trouble. This crowd reeked of whiskey and beer.

  “You deaf?” the man demanded, taking another aggressive step forward. “Gimme your fucking money.” He waved the gun in the air, assuming it gave him control of the situation.

  Maccus sighed. He preferred to choose his victims on his own terms, not to be forced into it. Every death at his hands dimmed what little remained of his soul.

  Morrigan stepped out from behind him. “I may be a bitch, but I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  Standing beside him, she was magnificent with her shoulders back, stance relaxed, and hands loose by her sides ready to draw her weapons. She could draw them faster than any human could shoot, but he still didn’t like her exposed like this. A bullet could kill her.

  “Leave or die.” He gave them an ultimatum, tired of simply standing around. They should already be home with him losing himself in her sweet body. Or maybe he found himself there. Whatever was true, his priority was getting her alone and naked. And these men were in the way.

  “Big words, big man,” the leader taunted. He waved the weapon in the air before leveling it at Morrigan.

  He could kill them all without breaking a sweat. Still, he hesitated. It was likely Lucifer or Gabriel had a hand in this. Not directly—they were forbidden from direct involvement in the fate of man—but they could give the men’s instincts toward violence a little push and send them in his direction.

  Was he so close to the edge? Maybe so.

  A man eased from the shadows. Morrigan startled and had her gun drawn in the next heartbeat. Maccus grabbed her hand and pushed the barrel down. “No.”

  There were questions in her eyes, but she gave him a curt nod and tucked the weapon away. The humans appeared confused. Their leader tracked his gun over all three of them, not quite sure who to settle on.

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Asher?” He didn’t like surprises, especially not ones like this. “How did you find me?”

  It was bad enough he’d sensed Asher’s presence in the alleyway earlier. The Brotherhood generally stayed out of one another’s way, but Maccus had crossed paths with Asher more than a few times, and they stayed connected by email.

  In fact, the Forgotten Brotherhood had been born out of their first meeting. Since they hadn’t tried to kill each other—except for that first time—they were practically friends.

  “I admit I was curious when you sent out feelers for information. I had to find out what was going on. Call it curiosity. Since I was in the area and know where you live, I thought I’d keep an eye on you.”

  “You shouldn’t have come.” Maccus didn’t need anyone else involved in this battle. And how had the vampire found his home? He kept that information well-guarded.

  There was also the concern that one of his enemies might have hired Asher. It was against Brotherhood rules, but they’d been broken before. That always ended badly for the one breaking them.

  The truth of the matter was he had no idea where the vampire’s true allegiance lay.

  “Thank you, Asher,” the vampire mocked. “So nice of you to join us, Asher. Why it’s nice to see you, too, Maccus,” he continued his solo two-sided conversation. “And since I’m here, I’ll handle this.” He pointed to the men still standing there.

  “You sure?” He damn well didn’t need anyone to fight his battles for him. And he had questions for the vamp.

  “Take your woman and go home.” When he hesitated, Asher sighed. “If you’re not going to let me have any fun, why did you post on the website? You knew it would make me curious. Admit it. I’ve been following you when I could be home watching reruns of The Bachelor or The Real Housewives of Somewhere.”

  He almost smiled. As much as he hated modern culture, Asher loved it, soaking in every nuance and tidbit of gossip. He’d told Maccus once that it made him feel more alive. He could understand needing something, especially something other than death.

  “You’re Asher?” They both heard her unasked question: Who or what are you?

  The leader of the group of men finally lost patience with being ignored. “Hey. Give me your damn wallets.” To make his point, he fired his weapon. Maccus shot out his hand and caught the bullet in midair. The tattoo of the push knife solidified, allowing the projectile to land harmlessly without piercing his skin. He opened his fist and let the bent metal drop to the ground.

  “Fuck me,” the leader whispered. Several of the men with him backed up slowly, turned, and fled, but some of them seemed frozen in place by fear, unable to move.

  “Not if you were the last person on earth,” Maccus assured him.

  Asher sighed. “You just had to, didn’t you?”

  He shrugged and took Morrigan by the hand. “Morrigan, this is Asher. Asher, Morrigan.”

  “You were in the alley earlier, weren’t you?”

  Shock was followed by a slow smile. “Your hunter is as observant and smart as she is beautiful. It would be a shame to see something happen to her.”

  He growled a warning, not sure if the vampire was stating a fact or threatening her. When Asher kept on grinning like an idiot, he took it to mean the damn vamp honestly thought her beautiful.

  Done with talking, he strode away, practically dragging her behind him. It bothered him that Asher found her attractive. What did she think of him? The damn vampire was good at drawing women to him.

  She hurried behind him, casting a glance over her shoulder. “Just what is Asher? Because he’s sure as heck not human.”

  “Vampire.”

  “Really?” She looked over her shoulder again. “Where’d they all go?”

  “He’ll take care of them.” Whether he’d kill them or not would depend on his mood. It was likely he’d content himself with scaring the shit out of them and probably helping himself to a late-night snack.

  “He doesn’t smell like any vamp I’ve ever run across.” She turned back around and kept pace. “They mostly stay away from hunters. He’s one of you, isn’t he? One of the Forgotten Brotherhood?”

  He came to a dead stop.

  She slammed into his back and bounced away. “Hey, watch it.”

  “What did you think of him?” This was not the place to have this conversation. And why should it matter to him if she found Asher attractive?

  Darkness swirled inside him, cloaking him, blocking out the sliver of light that remained. The weapons on his body quivered, searching for a target.

  He was jealous of a damn vampire.

  “Um, he seems like a decent guy. I mean, he came out tonight and watched your back, even though you didn’t ask him to.” Then her gaze narrowed. “If he was in the alley, where the hell was he when we were fighting Gabriel?” Her voice got louder with each word. Her scowl grew darker.

  It thrilled him more than it should.

  Still, he couldn’t leave well enough alone. “Do you think he’s handsome?”

  She frowned as though she didn’t understand the question. “I suppose,” she said slowly. “He’s pretty enough.”

  Maccus growled. He hadn’t meant to, but he couldn’t help himself. The urge to go back and rip the head off one of the few men in the history of existence he might even remotely call a friend was almost too tempting to deny.

  She stepped up to him and placed her hands on his chest. “He’s too pretty. I prefer a more rugged man myself.”

  “You do?” Keep your damn mouth shut, you idiot.

  “I do,” she assured him. “I’ll show you just how much more when we get back to your place.” There was laughter in her eyes, but he didn’t care.

  She could be lying, a voice in the back of his head cautioned. How better to kill him than to get him to care and then plunge one of his own daggers into his heart? Even if it wouldn’t physically kill him, her betrayal would end up pushing him firmly into the realm of the dark where he would becom
e a true monster, sentenced to death by both Heaven and Hell.

  And if he killed her, the result would be the same.

  He was totally fucked with no way out. And considering some of the situations he’d found himself in, it was almost laughable how easily he’d been caught in this trap. Being betrayed by a friend, losing his wings, and being pushed from Heaven—those he’d survived. He’d battled his way out of Hell, fighting demons and Lucifer with a ferocity that had never been witnessed before.

  But a female bounty hunter, a former human, would be the one to bring him to his knees.

  Only she was as trapped as he was.

  There had to be a way out, but damned if he could see it.

  “Maccus?” They were standing in the middle of the sidewalk during a power outage. Thankfully it was only a grid and not citywide, and there were lights up ahead.

  “Let’s go home.” His apartment had always been a place to live and store his belongings. For the first time, it seemed like a real home and all because he was sharing it with someone. With her.

  Morrigan smiled and nodded. “Let’s go home.”

  …

  So that was his friend, of sorts. She hated the qualifier. Not being able to trust anyone sucked, but she got it. It was how she’d lived since she’d become a hunter. How much worse was it for someone who’d lived as long as Maccus?

  And he hadn’t answered her earlier question.

  Rather than think about dying, she gave thanks for still being alive. It even gave her a boost that he’d protected her. Not that she’d needed it against the human males. The angel was a different story.

  She shivered in spite of the balmy evening.

  Asher wasn’t a stereotypical vampire with his long blond hair. He wasn’t pale, either. But he was powerful. It had all but bled from his pores, in spite of his seeming good humor.

  And Maccus had been jealous. Of the vampire. It had confused her at first. Then a sense of wonder had settled over her. That had to mean he had some feelings for her, beyond just the sexual chemistry between them. Didn’t it?