Fury Unleashed

by N. J. Walters

  The crackle of flames and screams of the damned filled her ears, the scent of burning flesh singed her nostrils. Fear skated down her spine. She broke out in a sweat, and her heart started to race.

  Not now. She couldn’t afford to fall into a flashback, which was really a prelude of things to come. God, she was so broken. Breathe in, breathe out. It was a simple but effective way to ground herself in the present.

  Maccus watched her, his dark eyes showing a brief flicker of concern before returning to their normal state of unemotional and unreadable. How long he had she been lost in the flashback?

  “What?” she asked, striving for nonchalance.

  His silence worried her. What was he thinking? Maybe even planning?

  It was one thing for him to defend her against some demon he could destroy with ease—and yes, he was that good. Would he do it if his survival was on the line?

  She wouldn’t ask it of him, didn’t expect it.

  Her own actions had put her in this position.

  Her goals had once been so clear—save her sister, do her time, be released from her contract. Now it looked as though her sister was lost, her time was coming to an end, and a loophole in the deal meant a one-way trip back to the underworld.

  Yup, her goals had become a little murky.

  What was clear was that she wouldn’t go down without a fight, and there was no one she’d rather fight alongside than Maccus.

  A flash of red caught her eye. Kayley was coming right at them, her heels tapping against the hardwood floor. She was frowning now, her eyes snapping with anger, her lips pursed in a thin line. Guests at the gallery tried to catch her attention, but there was no deterring her from her goal—reaching Maccus.

  “I asked you for a private meeting, and you choke my agent.” Her sister vibrated with energy, with life, and also with barely suppressed anger. She was obviously used to getting her own way.

  That was on her or had at least started there. Overcompensating for the poverty they lived in and their mother’s death, she’d indulged her younger sister way too much.

  Was that what had sent her down this road?

  The road to Hell was paved with good intentions. Because her intentions had been good. But something had gone horribly wrong.

  “Your agent insulted your sister.” His deep voice grounded her. She wasn’t the only one who couldn’t keep her eyes off him. Her sister seemed spellbound.

  She waved away his words. “That’s just Colin’s way. He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

  So that made it okay to insult her? Kayley just didn’t give a damn.

  “We’ll talk when everyone leaves.” He turned away, the conversation done as far as he was concerned.

  It was a surprise when she turned her attention to Morrigan. “You should tell him to come with me.”

  Unable to stop herself, she laughed in her sister’s face. “No one tells Maccus to do anything.”

  “Maccus, is it?” She made a humming sound deep in the back of her throat. Her expression turned even more calculating. “We should talk, catch up on old times. Come with me.” She started away, as though expecting her to follow like a trained dog.

  Morrigan stayed right where she was. Kayley was a few feet away before she realized her sister wasn’t following dutifully behind her. Damn, her sister was a spoiled brat.

  Kayley’s eyes snapped with anger, and her lips pulled tight. “Well, come on.”

  “No.” Maccus spoke before Morrigan could. “She stays.”

  Kayley threw back her head and laughed, the sound drawing attention and more than a few smiles from her admirers. “Ah, so she’s on your leash. If I’d have known, I would have told Colin to let you bring your pet.” She ran her hand down the front of her dress, pulling the material tight to emphasize her breasts and hips. It was a blatant display of sexuality. And an invitation.

  “She can watch later if you’d like,” she all but purred. “I don’t mind an audience.” Still laughing, she walked away, letting the crowd swallow her up.

  Fury erupted inside Morrigan. “What the fuck was that about? I can speak for myself.”

  …

  He’d handled that all wrong. Hindsight was brilliant but useless. But he’d gone with his gut. “I couldn’t let her separate us.”

  Morrigan huffed out a breath and dragged her fingers through her short cap of hair. “Crap. It wasn’t like I was going to go with her.”

  But he hadn’t been so sure.

  How better to defeat them than to divide and conquer? It was a classic technique for good reason—it worked.

  “You should have let me speak for myself. You’ve weakened my position.” Her voice was stiff, her words clipped.

  “You’re right.” He understood tactics better than anyone. He knew better but had led with his heart rather than his instincts or his brain. That was becoming a nasty habit.

  “You should have— What? I’m right?” She looked so perplexed he almost smiled.

  “Yes.” Conscious of all the people around them trying to listen to their conversation, he kept his voice low.

  “Wow, I guess that’s as close to an apology as I can expect.”

  She was also right about that, so he kept his mouth shut.

  “Okay.” She tugged at her jacket even though it was already straight. Her sister might be wearing the sexy red dress, but it might as well be sackcloth as far as he was concerned. She didn’t interest him in that way. But Morrigan did.

  She was kick-ass in her black leather. The pants emphasized her long legs and the strength of her thighs. He had firsthand knowledge of just how sleek and muscular they were when wrapped around him during sex. Beneath her jacket, she wore a formfitting tank that left her arms bare—arms, capable of wielding any of the weapons she possessed.

  His cock surged to life, but he didn’t give a shit who took note, even knowing they would use the attraction against him.

  He and Morrigan were a team, a unit.

  That still had him shaking his head in disbelief. Yeah, better not to bank on her standing beside him, not when the going got tough. It was early in the evening yet. The main battle had yet to begin. What Kayley had done was little more than test the waters to see where things stood.

  “If things start to look bad for you—”

  “—I’ll be fine,” she injected before he’d finished.

  “Run,” he continued.

  She whirled on her heel and drilled her finger into his chest. “I don’t run.” Poke. “From.” Poke. “Anyone.” Then she dropped her hand. “Okay, maybe that’s not entirely true. I’ve run in the past, but not this time. This time, I’m sticking.” Her tone softened. “And really, there’s nowhere to go.”

  Maybe not, but the most basic instinct of all creatures was survival. If the fight seemed lost, she’d turn heel and flee.

  Just as it would be instinct for him to kill her to save himself.

  What will I become if I give in?

  Rage rose within him, so powerful a tray full of wineglasses a nearby waiter held exploded.

  “Damn.” Morrigan ducked even as she scanned the room for the threat, not understanding that it came from him.

  He grabbed her by the hand and dragged her down a corridor just off to the left. He kept going until he found a fire exit and pushed his way outside.

  “What’s going on? Did you see something?” She dug in her heels. “Stop pulling me like I’m a dog on a leash.”

  Battle was close, and bloodlust surged within him. He couldn’t fight, not yet, but there was something he could do.

  He whirled around, lifted her into his arms, and slammed his mouth down on hers, plundering her warmth. Caught by surprise, she momentarily froze before returning his passion, meeting him in a kiss of pure desperation.

  She should hate him, fear him,
despise him. For some miraculous reason, she didn’t. Open and eager, she held nothing back.

  She scared the crap out of him.

  How could he care about her when he barely knew her? Kayley might think she was a witch of some kind, but she was a novice compared to Morrigan, who had untainted power of the purest kind—an open and caring heart.

  He slanted his mouth over hers again and again. This wasn’t smart. It was downright stupid. But he had to taste her, touch her, and be the recipient of her unbridled passion.

  Their tongues dueled, and he rose to the challenge. He walked forward until her back was against the wall. Part of his consciousness was aware they were in an alley behind the gallery, the space dimly lit by a security light. It was dirty and smelled of the city, but it suited them both better than the glitzy interior and fake smiles and laughter inside.

  This was real. Their passion was real.

  When he ground his pelvis against her mound, she wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him closer. His chest ached with the reminder he needed to breathe, but he needed to kiss her more.

  The metallic sound of her zipper as he lowered it seemed as loud as an atomic blast and packed as much of a punch. He cupped a breast through the thin material of the tank. He cursed himself for buying her underwear as her bra put another layer of clothing between them.

  “This is crazy.” She ran kisses down the curve of his chin before nipping at his neck.

  “Yes.” It was insanity. Every touch, every scrap of affection, was imprinted on his memory.

  “We have to stop.” Even as she said it, she flexed her thighs and gripped him harder.

  He leaned forward and pushed his erection against her mound, able to feel her heat even through the layers of their pants. She was right. This was not the time or the place. They were vulnerable to their enemies.

  That brought him crashing back down to reality. Shit, being stupid would only get him killed. And he had no plans to die tonight.

  Still, he couldn’t resist one last taste. He kissed her again. This time the desperation was banked. Their lips touched, and the heat of her sank into him. She tasted faintly of the wine she’d sipped, but underneath it was pure Morrigan—sweet and spicy at the same time.

  His leather jacket creaked in complaint as she tightened her hold. It would be so easy to drag her pants down, open his, and fuck her until they both found release.

  Later, he promised himself. Only there would be no later. If he won, Morrigan would be dead or dragged back to Hell. Either way, she would be gone.

  Life wasn’t fair. It had never been. He didn’t understand why some people seemed to skate through with little or no problems while others dealt with one tragedy after another.

  No, life wasn’t fair, but sometimes it did offer gifts. Morrigan was the best one he’d ever received. She was also the harshest punishment, a curse. How could he go back to the way he’d been, now that he’d had her in his life? What would it do to him when she was dead or worse?

  If she was dead, Lucifer could only torment her soul. If she was still alive when he dragged her back to Hell, he could torture her body and soul. Neither scenario was pleasant. And once she was dead, there was no way back for her.

  He should curse the day he ever met her. And he did—when he wasn’t praising Heaven for it.

  Everything had been black and white until she’d come into his life bringing color and chaos.

  He ran his thumb over her full bottom lip. His entire body clenched when her clever tongue snaked out to lick the tip.

  The air around them stirred. Before he even released her, she all but jumped from his arms and drew the knife he’d given her. Side by side, backs to the wall, they faced the threat.

  “Well, well, well.” Lucifer strolled down the alley, dragging an elongated fingernail over the brick of the building across from them, the scraping sounds grating. Sparks flickered before dying out. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your little interlude. No, wait. I did.” He laughed.

  It would be satisfying to wipe the smug expression from the devil’s face. But a cool head was needed.

  “I assumed you’d wait for your minions to try to defeat me first. Or at least let Gabriel give it a try,” he taunted.

  Anger tightened Lucifer’s features, giving them a glimpse of his true face before it smoothed out again into the handsome guise he wore over it.

  “And let them have all the fun?” He leaned against the wall, bent one knee and placed a foot against the brick, and crossed his arms over his chest. “I was disappointed you didn’t take Kayley up on her offer.” His gaze raked Morrigan. “I’m not sure what you see in this one, but there’s no accounting for taste. And Gabriel, the bastard, was correct in his assessment. He said the two of you would hit it off.”

  The two of them working together was still mind-blowing. It was unheard of. It was also an indication of just how far both would go to end him.

  And Morrigan was caught in the middle of it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Morrigan’s blood shot from hot passion to pure ice. Maccus had morphed from lover to merciless assassin. Lucifer had once again interrupted her life. What was he up to now?

  Senses sharp, she glanced around the alley, surprised to find it empty other than the three of them. With Maccus’s attention taken by Lucifer, it was up to her to watch his back.

  Every cell in her body was lamenting they wouldn’t get to finish what they started. His taste was still on her lips; the heat from his hand hadn’t yet faded.

  The devil’s dark gaze pinned her in place. The malicious glee there made her stomach turn. “Kill him,” he ordered.

  Her hand vibrated. The muscles clenched. Sweat broke out on her brow as she attempted to keep her hand in place. Even with all her effort, it jerked toward Maccus. He stayed steady, not even trying to get out of the way.

  “Mind control?” Maccus tsked. “So beneath you.”

  The pressure on her body didn’t ease, even though she fought it with all her might. Wasn’t this damn dagger protected by symbols? It was supposed to fight such things. Or maybe not. Maybe it was designed to hurt the creatures it was used on but not protect the wielder. After all, Maccus wouldn’t need such protection.

  She grabbed her wrist with her free hand and exerted every ounce of strength she possessed. Sweat broke out on her brow. The muscles in her arm quivered, but the tip of the blade kept moving unerringly toward Maccus’s heart.

  She gritted her teeth, dug deep, and gave a roar of fury as she flung the knife. Not toward Maccus but Lucifer.

  It flew through the air like a rocket being launch. It ran straight and true and hit the target, ramming right into the center of his chest. His entire body jerked. The ground beneath them shook. Fury filled his eyes as they flashed blood red.

  “You dare to stab me?” Each word rose in volume until he was yelling.

  She swallowed hard but didn’t bother answering. Yeah, it was pretty self-evident. He gripped the handle of the knife and yanked. It didn’t move.

  Blood oozed from around the wound. A human, even most demons, would be dead.

  He tugged on the blade again, jaw clenching, frown deepening. “What is this?”

  “The dagger belongs to me,” Maccus told him. “I loaned it to her.”

  “You gave her one of your knives?” Shock reverberated in his voice.

  Okay, she’d known it was a big deal, but not how much of one. The devil stared at her, pure disbelief mirrored on his face.

  “Loaned,” Maccus corrected.

  She couldn’t forget that. She, like the knife, was temporary.

  “Would you mind?” Lucifer asked, his tone dry and sardonic as he pointed to the handle protruding from his chest. The dagger truly was powerful if even he couldn’t remove it.

  Maccus shrugged and held out his hand. The
blade moved so fast she couldn’t see it. One second it was in Lucifer’s chest, the next back in Maccus’s hand. He gripped the weapon by the bloody tip and held the handle out to her.

  She tucked her hands behind her back. “Maybe I shouldn’t.” The last thing she wanted was to be forced to use his weapon against him.

  “Take it.” His voice was deep, and the command behind it undeniable. She took the knife.

  In that short amount of time, Lucifer’s wound had disappeared, as had the blood on his coat. It would take more than a knife to kill him, even a powerful one.

  Could he even be killed?

  The back door was shoved open, and Kayley strode out, a frown on her face and her brows lowered. “I hope you’re happy. Everyone is gone. There was no need to cut my party short.”

  Talk about unexpected. It was shocking how her younger sister addressed the king of Hell. Even more surprising? He didn’t smite her where she stood. No, instead of making her the center of his wrath, he smiled. And not a sarcastic or sadistic one.

  “No fears, my dear. They’ll all be back tomorrow.”

  Kayley’s lips curved upward, and the furrows on her brow smoothed out. There was more than a sensual promise in that smile. There was a familiarity that was sexual. Her sister and Lucifer?

  Definitely never saw that one coming.

  He held out his hand, and Kayley went to him without hesitation. There was no fear at all coming from her, only a sense of anticipation and excitement.

  She swallowed the bile in her throat.

  Lucifer noted her surprise and laughed. “You didn’t think I’d keep you alive if you weren’t important to her, did you?”

  So if her sister and Lucifer had hooked up, did that mean she was his sister-in-law? Scratch that. He wouldn’t marry anyone, and she was nothing more than a toy to them both.

  Where had her baby sister gone? How had this happened?

  Silent and assessing, Maccus didn’t posture and talk like Lucifer did. There was nothing showy about him. He was silent and deadly, like the blades he favored.

  She was tired of waiting for the hammer to drop. “I won’t kill him.” That was the one thing she was sure of. Better to burn in Hell for eternity.