Fury Unleashed

by N. J. Walters

  …

  What had just happened?

  Sex with Maccus was beyond anything she could imagine, and she had quite a vivid imagination. As though unable to slake his desire for her, he’d taken her again and again, in every position possible, and even in a couple she’d never envisioned. If she were human, she wouldn’t be able to walk for a week without limping. But she was stronger. Her muscles were a bit stiff, but overall, she was energized rather than tired.

  She climbed out of bed and raised her arms over her head. Bending forward, she stretched. A hot shower would help loosen her up and soothe any soreness. It didn’t take her long to clean up and get dressed. She had no idea what hour of day or night it was. Being with Maccus overwhelmed all else, but that couldn’t last.

  They couldn’t hide in his apartment forever. Lucifer or Gabriel would eventually find a way in or force them out. And every time they stepped outside, they were met with a new challenge.

  Yeah, challenge. Talk about an understatement. She gave a short snort of laughter as she yanked on another T-shirt, she borrowed from Maccus. It was way too big, but she knotted the tail at her side.

  The life-giving scent of coffee lured her to the kitchen. Eggs and bacon sizzled in large pans on the stove. Pure heaven. It didn’t seem to matter the species; the male go-to was either breakfast or steak on a grill.

  “Can I help?”

  “There’s coffee,” he told her, keeping his back to her.

  Not exactly the warm and loving aftermath she wished for, but she couldn’t complain. Having him share a memory with her was huge. They’d actually talked. That was no small thing.

  The silence remained until they were seated at the table and had almost finished their meal. “Tell me something else?” The deep rumble of his voice startled her.

  She set her fork down and picked up her mug and took a fortifying sip. “I like music.” When he simply stared at her and frowned, she managed to swallow a smile. He managed to get across his point without saying a word.

  “I like music of all kinds. Not a particular genre. Depends on my mood. Classic rock is, well, classic. I enjoy Motown, metal, even some disco. Not so much rap or hip hop.”

  “Classical?”

  She put her mug down and spun it around. “Never really listened to it. You?” she asked, not expecting him to answer.

  He sat back in his chair with a faraway gaze, as though he was somewhere in the past rather than with her. “Mozart was remarkable.”

  “The Mozart?” These kinds of tidbits brought into sharp focus just how old he was.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you see all the great composers?” Her education had been sorely lacking in this area.

  “I traveled more in those days.”

  Which was a yes. “You’ve seen so much.” So much beauty and wonder.

  He shoved back from the table and grabbed his dishes. “Yes.”

  His mood had turned on a dime, but she understood. Yes, he’d seen some amazing things, but he’d also endured living nightmares. Did one make up for the other? Did the scales even out? She doubted it.

  “So, what do we do now?” As much as she loved this quiet interlude, it was time to make a plan. Hopefully, one that didn’t include her death.

  It seemed odd to watch a deadly assassin put his dirty dishes in the dishwasher. But a cleaning service? That wasn’t happening. That level of trust simply wasn’t in him.

  Used to his silences, she helped him finish clearing away. He wasn’t intentionally ignoring her as much as he was thinking, plotting his next move.

  “I need to check my email.”

  The normalcy of such mundane tasks made her heart swell and her lips twitch. Their situation was so far outside the norm. Heck, they weren’t even in the same universe. “You expecting word from Asher or any of the others?” She had no idea who he’d contacted or how many members there were in the Forgotten Brotherhood.

  “Maybe. I have other business interests.”

  Of course he did. He’d been alive forever, and living on the earth for— Well, she had no idea how long, but centuries at least. Maybe millennia.

  She, on the other hand, had nothing to check. There were no numbers in her phone, except for Emmett, and she only contacted him when she had a bounty to be picked up. Otherwise, she was alone in the world, with not even a number for a local pizza joint on speed dial. Where she moved around so much, it didn’t make sense to bother.

  “You all right?” He plucked the dishcloth from her clenched hand, folded it precisely, and hung it over the faucet.

  “Fine.” What else could she say? That he was the closest friend she’d had her entire life. That was beyond sad and skyrocketing into pathetic.

  Her throat closed and her chest got tight, as though it was being squeezed by an emotion too big to express. She was so tired of it all—the fighting, the mistrust, the just getting through each day to wake up and do the same thing over and over.

  What was the point?

  “Morrigan?” He ran his fingers along the curve of her jaw, and she shook off her melancholy.

  “What’s the plan?” There was no time for wallowing in self-pity. She needed to get back to the task at hand.

  He turned and walked away. Yup, things were back to normal again. And just like before, she followed him into his office. He took his seat at his desk and opened his laptop.

  Ignoring all the treasures surrounding her, she went to stand beside him, not even trying to hide the fact she was looking over his shoulder.

  There were several dozen emails in his inbox, and he went through them at lightning speed. The sheer number and variety were a surprise. “Real estate?” It made sense since he was older than dirt.

  “Land always has value.” Fingers flying over the keyboard, he made an offer on a property with so many zeros on the end of the number that she got a little queasy. There was an email about shares for a pharmaceutical company. Another from the board of directors for an investor group.

  And what had she done with her life? She’d waitressed and scrubbed floors. Oh, and she’d hunted demons while living in crap motels. Maybe she had a couple hundred bucks in the bank and less in her wallet. If and when she needed more, Emmett would deposit it. Not like she actually pulled in a paycheck for her job.

  Feelings of inadequacy filled her. She started to walk away, but Maccus’s hand snapped out and caught hers before she got more than a step from him. His gaze remained on the screen. He was on the Forgotten Brotherhood website now.

  “Anything?” So she wasn’t rich. So what? She was alive. That was something.

  “Asher sent our friends on their way last night.”

  “Did he hurt them?” As much as they’d deserved it, she still abhorred unnecessary violence.

  “He helped himself to a snack, altered some memories.”

  “A snack? Right, he’s a vampire.” The thought of sucking blood from one of those guys made her stomach roil. She rubbed the back of her neck and took long, slow breaths. Yeah, she didn’t find the whole vampire thing the least bit sexy, no matter how many books or movies tried to make it seem desirable.

  No, she seemed to have a weakness for one particular surly fallen angel. Just her luck.

  “Nothing else of interest.” He swiveled in his chair, caught her around the waist, and dragged her onto his lap so she was facing him.

  She tilted her head to one side, hearing what he didn’t say. “Anything not particularly of interest?” He had contacts with other members of the group. There were things going on in the world that had nothing to do with her situation, although she couldn’t imagine anything more important than one that had the devil and an angel involved.

  He shook his head. “We stay out of one another’s business and try not to have too much contact.”

  “Not even with Asher
?” He’d seemed to be, if not a friend, at least friendly.

  “I’ve known him the longest.”

  “How did you meet?” The curiosity was killing her. They weren’t exactly running with the same crowd.

  Or maybe they did. Where vampires come from and who governed them was a mystery? It was likely “need to know” information. And she certainly didn’t need to. She had enough troubles of her own without adding to them.

  “We’d both been hired for the same job. We both took exception.”

  “Wow.” Talk about a battle for the ages. But he hadn’t killed the vampire. And he could have. Sure, Asher was dangerous, but Maccus was at a level all his own.

  He gave a negligent shrug. “We came to an understanding, founded the Brotherhood, and then went our own way. There will always be friction when two powerful creatures are in close proximity.”

  That made sense. None of the members of the Brotherhood would have an easy time with trust. “Doesn’t it get lonely? I mean, you guys live forever, right?”

  “In theory. But in my experience, anyone or anything can be killed.”

  A shiver raced down her spine at his ominous words. Anything could be killed. Even demon bounty hunters. He’d probably killed a dozen of her kind. Or maybe not. She doubted he’d bother—not enough challenge.

  “What are we doing?” His lips twitched. Why wouldn’t they? She was currently sitting on his lap with his erection pressing against her. “Besides this.” She rubbed her mound against his shaft. Even through their clothing, the heat and friction sent her thoughts down a sensual path. She was getting way too close to him, and she’d barely scratched the surface of who he was.

  He wrapped his hands around her hips before sliding them back to cup her ass. “We’re going to try to defeat Lucifer and Gabriel at their own game.”

  She wished she had his confidence. “Not possible. Someone has to die.” His entire body turned to stone. “And it’s likely to be me.” Wasn’t much point in lying to herself.

  “Why you?” he asked.

  “Why did Lucifer order me to kill you?” Because there was no good reason. “Maybe because of the chemistry we have.” They had that in spades. Even now, talking about her impending death, her body responded to his touch. Maybe even more so with the awareness that time was running out.

  She turned it back on him. “Why you?”

  He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Lucifer has never liked me.”

  Understatement the millennia. Maybe of all time. “I’ve caught a few rumors about the Hunter. You’re definitely not one of Lucifer’s favorite people.” She paused, almost afraid to ask. “Is it true you could have taken Hell?” That’s what had been whispered, along with the fact he’d been asked to leave.

  “I don’t want it.” Not an answer. Not really. “I like being left alone.”

  “And they’re not going to let that happen. Why now? What’s changed? You’ve been on Earth for a long time.” It didn’t make sense.

  He shrugged again, seeming unconcerned. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him, or at least tried to. It was like trying to move a mountain—a very solid, stubborn one.

  “What are you doing?” He wasn’t upset, just mildly interested.

  “Trying to shake some sense into you, but not having any success. You have some powerful entities gunning for you.”

  “That’s not new.”

  She supposed it wasn’t, but that didn’t make it right or easier. “Think about it. The timing has to be a factor, especially since both Heaven and Hell are involved. How can you be a threat to both?”

  Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes. Tattoos poked out from beneath the sleeves of his shirt and peeked out just above the collar. Maccus was a force of nature, strong and indomitable. But in this space of time, he seemed tired.

  She leaned forward and rested her head against his chest. The loud thud of his heart comforted her. For a while they sat there, her pressed against him with his arms wrapped around her. It was peaceful. The only sound was that of their breath. It synced, and they were soon breathing as one. A sense of contentment filled her. If these were her last hours in the world, then they were good ones.

  “I’m close to the edge,” he told her.

  She pushed back so she could see him. His eyes were open and filled, once again, with the relentless determination she’d come to associate with him. “The edge of what?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Why couldn’t Heaven and Hell leave him the fuck alone? He was done with them.

  Happiness was an emotion he didn’t understand, but he’d established a rhythm, a way to live that gave him some semblance of peace and satisfaction.

  He’d found contentment in the small things—the first cup of coffee, a sunrise, a good book.

  But Morrigan had changed everything.

  No matter what happened, the life he’d had would no longer be enough. Not when he’d finally had a taste of more, of something better.

  “The edge of what?” she asked again.

  He ran his hand over her hair. It was shiny and soft, and the glints of red caught the light. She had eyes like a cat, inquisitive and intelligent.

  It was wrong of him to enjoy her softness, her giving. He couldn’t return it. Was too hard, too set in his ways.

  “Darkness.”

  She tilted her head to one side and frowned, trying to understand.

  Was it wrong that he liked that she was wearing his shirt? It was like a stamp of possession. Even though she’d showered, he could still smell himself on her. That was even better.

  His feelings confused him. Damn Gabriel for drawing him into this.

  “What about the darkness?” Her soft question made him shake his head. She already knew too much about him.

  For once in his life, he wanted to trust, even though she’d betray him in the end. It was inevitable. “The light, my soul, it’s almost gone.” He stoically awaited her judgment.

  “What do you mean?” Her hand pressed against his chest, right over his heart, where her head had rested only a short while ago.

  “Each time I kill, I lose a piece of myself, a part of the angel I was.” Fallen or not, he still had light inside him. It had allowed him to heal, to survive, but using it in such a ruthless manner had dimmed it until it was a tiny spark in the vast nothingness of his soul.

  “That’s their goal. If you kill me, you lose your soul.” She shook him again or tried to. Her concern warmed him even as he cautioned himself not to take it to heart. When push came to shove, she’d protect herself. It was the nature of any creature from human to paranormal. The most basic instinct was survival.

  “Yes.”

  “Why me? I’m nobody.”

  There was no way to explain how important she’d become to him, how she’d changed him, so he didn’t try. “Who knows their reasoning?”

  “Then what? What happens when you lose your soul?”

  “I become a monster the likes of which has never existed.” Maybe it was time to end it all. “Heaven and Hell would most likely sanction me, join together, and end me.”

  “Why haven’t they done that already if they can?” Her question was a reminder of how little she understood the other realms.

  “There are rules. Heaven and Hell never mix. But there would likely be an exception for me.” Maybe he should find it flattering.

  “So, I’m the catalyst to bring about your death.” When she pushed up off of his lap, he let her go. She paced in front of his desk. Back and forth. Back and forth. He let her be, let her burn off her anger. She’d burst into his life, a brilliant flame, brightening it, even if only temporarily. He’d experienced more emotions in his short time with her than he had in all his years of living.

  It was time to stop her from wearing a hole in the priceless Persian carpet beneath h
er feet. Before he could, she stopped and whirled to face him.

  “If I can be the catalyst of your death, can’t I be one that might save you?”

  Was this love?

  Warmth swelled from the very depths of him. For a brief second, the light in him flared before receding. He might love her, or at least as much as he was able to. He didn’t truly understand the concept. It meant everything to him that she thought there was a way to save him.

  And herself, the more cynical side of him pointed out. So what? She was entitled to live as much as he was. More so. He’d killed thousands both as an angel and after he’d fallen. All she’d done was to be loyal to a sister who didn’t deserve it.

  “I’m past saving.” Best not to let her build up false hope, only to be disappointed.

  Her gaze fierce, she slapped both hands on his desk and leaned forward. “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s the truth. I told you I’d never lie.” He’d stopped lying to himself the second he’d fallen from grace and into darkness. There was no room for lies there. Reality was too brutal.

  It was fascinating to watch her eyes gleam like emeralds in the light. She didn’t belong in Hell and was far too good for Heaven.

  And she would betray him.

  But that time had not yet come.

  She shoved away from his desk and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not ready to give up. I didn’t think you were a quitter, either.”

  Anyone else would be dead for suggesting such a thing. Maccus rose and stalked toward her, but she stood her ground, glaring at him. “I want to show you something.”

  All her anger and frustration bled away, turning to confusion. “What? You change topics so fast you’re giving me a headache. You know that?”

  He walked away. She’d follow. Her curiosity would allow nothing else. Sure enough, her muttered curses followed him as he went down the hallway to the full-size gym he maintained. The corners of his mouth twitched when she used a particularly inventive curse. “Demon angel,” she finally mumbled before falling silent.