Uriel arched his brow then gestured to me. “Yes, Nadya, this is Xander, one of my hunters. And Carowyn.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” said Carowyn, her smile sincere but small as if socializing cordially wasn’t her style.
I nodded. “And you.”
Xander stepped back, his hand absently sliding to cup Carowyn’s nape under her fall of dark hair.
“He needs armor,” said Carowyn.
Xander’s brow creased into a frown. “Why’s that, may I ask?”
Uriel crossed his arms, apparently ready for a fight as he spit out his intentions one more time. With every word, Xander’s bright expression darkened, his hands going to both his hips.
“The bloody hell you’re going into Ivangorod alone,” he said with vehemence. “And does George know what you’re up to?”
At this moment, I realized that while Uriel was the archangel who’d made these humans into hunters of the damned, essentially their master, their maker, the relationship between them all was more equal than not. Somehow, it made my heart squeeze with something like joy.
“Yes. He knows. So does Dommiel.”
“What!” Xander was completely incensed.
Carowyn wrapped gentle hands around his forearm. “Calm, Xander. It’s going to be all right.”
“Wait.” He pointed an accusing finger between her and Uriel. “You knew about this.”
Uriel answered, “Yes. Everyone knows. Except you. And now you know.”
He combed his fingers into his hair, ruffling the golden strands into adorable disarray. “Since when did you decide to kill yourself, Uriel?”
Behind his anger was a definite thread of affection. This hunter cared for him. Immensely.
“I’m not going to die,” said the stoic archangel with so much confidence that I believed him. Even though I knew that if he made it all the way to Vladek’s arena that he’d not make it out alive. Unless…
“Oh. And how is it you believe that Vladek won’t take off your head the second you step into his arena? He plays dirty, Uriel.” The hunter’s blue eyes flared with emotion. “You know this.”
“George is thinking of a contingency plan,” said Uriel matter-of-factly. “But I’m not waiting.”
Xander snorted in disgust. “Of course not. Because why would you think to wait for help.”
Uriel said nothing.
“And what’s the contingency plan?”
“No idea. Speak to George about it.”
I knew that George was their lead demon hunter among Uriel’s men. Dommiel had spoken of the kindhearted hunter who’d taken him in and let him live at his estate to heal in the countryside outside London. George’s woman, Kat, was renowned even as far as Ivangorod for her fierce fighting skills and for having condemned more souls to hell than any female hunter on the planet. Though I’d never met them, I knew them all by reputation and had admired them from afar.
Carowyn stepped in front of Xander with a dismissive smile over her shoulder. “Calm down, love,” she whispered sweetly. “Now turn around, archangel. I need to measure your wings.”
Uriel did as she asked.
“Open them all the way.”
He whipped open his white wings tipped in gold, stretching them wide, and my breath left my lungs. They were unbelievably magnificent. A work of art sculpted by the heavens. While Carowyn measured them carefully from top to bottom, from tip to tip, I stood and stared, trying to swallow and having trouble doing it. Xander stewed in his own misery, chewing his lip next to me.
“And do you really think you can fight your way through all those bloody maniacs? You think you’ll actually get into Ivangorod?”
Uriel gave a derisive snort, closing his wings tight to his back and turning for Carowyn to measure the rest of his body. He apparently didn’t even think Xander’s question deserved an answer. He gave him a dismissive glance then raised his arms for Carowyn who’d pulled out a tailor’s measuring tape.
Something about the way she wrapped the measuring tape gently around his waist, across his broad chest from shoulder to shoulder, and finally from the top of his clavicle to the top of his waistband launched the flight of a thousand butterflies in my belly. I wished I was the one measuring him, exploring the width and breadth of his sculpted torso and beautiful wings.
“Come,” said Carowyn casually. “We need to discuss blades. I have something new you might like.”
Uriel followed Carowyn through the archway into what was obviously her workshop, leaving Xander standing there under his black cloud and me trying desperately to smother fluttery sensations I shouldn’t be feeling.
Xander marched over to a table where some kind of automatic weapon and cartridges were lying about. I’d never shot a gun or handled weapons of any kind, but I saw enough of them in my time at Ivangorod to know that was a beast of one lying on the table. Especially if it was packing ether ammo, which of course it would be. Ether ammo was laced with a supernatural toxin that destroyed an otherworlder on impact. Regular bullets and blades could slow down a creature of Light or Dark. An otherworlder with higher power could also expel demons back to hell. But any being—high, low, or human—could use ether ammo and destroy the supernatural. That’s why it was coveted.
Xander didn’t handle the gun at all. Rather, he braced both hands on the table and stared off into the distance, obviously distracted.
“You’re so certain that he’ll be…defeated?” I couldn’t say the word killed. It might be just what Uriel was hoping for. Finally let go of his burden as archangel and join those in the House of Souls, a paradise for the righteous.
Xander shook his head with a disgusted grunt before responding with surprisingly soft words. “He won’t be defeated in the ring.” Turning around to lean his back against the table, he crossed his arms, watching Carowyn show him some kind of curved sword. “He’ll slaughter them all.”
Stepping closer, I leaned a hip on the table. “You believe so?”
I knew what kind of brutal beasts fought in the pits. I didn’t know what kind of fighter Uriel was. All I’d ever seen of him was his subdued state while in captivity. I mean, he reeked of power, but wielding power and using it in the ring were two different things.
Xander shook his head, gaze still focused through the archway on the two of them now discussing a smaller handheld blade, heads bent as Carowyn pointed out some details.
“I’ve no doubt. It isn’t the ring that worries me.”
“What is it then?”
“Facing Vladek.”
And just like that, the name of the demon prince who’d smothered my spirit and crushed my heart and caged my soul punched the air out of my lungs.
Xander’s all-seeing gaze flitted to me, probably noticing my reaction even though I’d tried hard to control it. I always tried. And always failed.
“You’re the one he lost, aren’t you?”
I nodded, focusing on Uriel’s profile, his head down, fingers sliding over the flat of a long knife while Carowyn spoke softly and pointed to the tip.
“I am.” Those two small words almost stuck in my throat. I could barely admit it aloud.
“You should be wary if you’re planning on going with him to the pits.”
“I have to. He needs me to escort him there.”
“You could refuse,” he said hopefully.
I smiled. “And if I don’t help him, then Vladek’s power will only grow. This is the only part I can play to stop what he’s doing. Killing indiscriminately. Taking whatever he wants…whoever he wants.”
Uriel’s piercing gaze lifted to mine from the next room, his brow furrowed, expression focused and intent. On me. As if he could feel my emotions darkening at the mention of Vladek. The one who sliced too deep. Metaphorically and literally.
“Listen,” said Xander, drawing my gaze to him. He tr
uly was a devastatingly handsome man. But what struck me more was the soul-deep compassion in his eyes. “If you get into trouble, if you need help, don’t hesitate to come to me.” His attention shifted to Uriel again. “I owe him everything.”
“Your life?”
“Yes.” He smiled sadly. “And my soul, too.”
Uriel sauntered out from the next room before I could ask more.
“Nadya,” called Carowyn from the archway with a wave of her hand. “I have some things you might need.”
Walking by Uriel in silence, I didn’t miss his penetrating stare as I passed. Carowyn led me through a workshop area and into another door, which was apparently her bedroom. A spacious room with a large bed covered in a black comforter and sparse furniture. She guided me around the bed—unmade and rumpled, possibly from whatever Uriel and I interrupted when we walked in. I wondered what kind of bedmate Uriel would be. Not playful, I didn’t think. Intense and powerful, definitely. I clamped my legs together at the sweat-inducing thought of it. And why in the world was I now imagining Uriel in bed?
“In here,” said Carowyn, stepping out from a walk-in closet and frowning at me.
I’d stopped and stared at the bed like an idiot. Shaking myself, a flush of heat crawling up my neck, I followed her into her closet.
“Uriel told me you’d be needing some different clothes for your role as his domina.”
I shivered at the thought, though I wasn’t sure it was at the thought of entering the pits or at the thought of playing his mistress.
“I do. Thank you.” I cleared my throat. “I doubt I have anything suitable for playing that part.”
There must’ve been some thread of trepidation in my voice. Carowyn faced me, her hazel-gold eyes flaring bright with understanding.
“Are you afraid?”
“Yes. I am.”
She smiled with such empathy I could see the angel she once was, beaming at me with compassion that pierced straight to my heart.
“I suppose I should tell you that it’s good you have fear to keep your wits about you. But the truth is, Uriel won’t let anything happen to you. I can promise you that.”
Frowning, I asked, “How can you promise that?”
She let out a soft laugh and shook her head, her long braids sliding over one shoulder. “Because Uriel is without a doubt a solo creature. He works alone. Always. Especially since he’s come back from Estonia.” I winced but kept silent. “Since then, Xander said he became even more distant and aloof. Cold.”
I nodded. “Yes. I can see that.”
“But he’s partnering with you.”
“He has to,” I assured her. “He couldn’t—”
“Maybe.” She shook her head. “But he’s leaning toward you.”
“Leaning?”
She smiled, turning to the rack and flicking through a row of hanging clothes.
“I don’t know how else to describe it. I can sense it because I’m an otherworlder. It’s like his aura, his power, tilts toward you.”
I’d never heard of this. “Really?”
She glanced at my body, down my legs.
“I think your legs are longer than mine, but if you wear boots, this will work well.” She pulled a pair of leather pants off a hanger and stuffed it into a brown backpack. “Yes, really. His whole being is tilted toward you. When you walked in, I could feel it.”
I frowned, not really understanding what she meant.
She pulled two more shirts from hangers and stuffed them into the bag. “Yeah. It was even worse when we were in my workshop just a minute ago. Like his energy, his whole body, kept yearning to get back to your side.”
“But, what does that mean? If he really is leaning toward me.”
She chuckled, pulling several more items from hangers and stuffing them in the backpack before zipping it up.
“It means you better prepare yourself.” She arched a perfectly sculpted brow. “You’ve got a very powerful archangel who is about to be in high pursuit of you.” She tilted her head, her beauty almost breathtaking, especially when she smiled like she was now. “If you don’t want him, you best make it clear. He may not even recognize it himself, what’s happening. Angels can be dense and stubborn sometimes, especially when it comes to their own emotions. Archangels are even worse. Do you know what your intentions are in regard to him?”
My heart galloped ahead of me, making me breathless when all I was doing was standing there, taking in this surreal conversation while a myriad of emotions flashed through me—the top two being absolute elation and polarizing fear.
“Intentions?” was all I could mutter like a complete moron.
She gave my arm a gentle squeeze, meant to comfort. It didn’t. “I thought it best to warn you. I hope I was right. Because, Nadya, when he comes for you, when he figures it out, it’s going to be a firestorm.”
Chapter Ten
Nadya
I towel-dried my newly dyed hair from the box of color Carowyn had given me. She’d had an array of different shades to choose from in her cabinet. Plopping the towel on the bathroom counter, I jumped at the sight of myself. The midnight blue had come out more like a deep sapphire on my white-blonde hair. The intensity of the hue made my eyes gleam even brighter, casting an almost ethereal quality against my pale complexion. I suppose that fit since I was supposed to be a creature of the otherworld, like them.
Glancing at the raised scars along my arms and shoulders, knowing there were many more beneath the towel draped around my torso, I turned away from my reflection and dropped the towel to put on my robe. And to escape the constant reminder of my time in Ivangorod.
Deimos had been badly neglected the past few days, so I was surprised to find he wasn’t waiting on my bed when I left the bathroom.
“Deimos,” I called out, walking into the den when I recognized the charged presence of Uriel before I saw him. I’d said goodnight to him at the door, but apparently, he hadn’t left. Tightening the sash of my robe, I stepped farther into the room, my breath catching at the sight before the fire.
Uriel sat on the hearth rug, his long legs stretched out as he leaned back on one arm, his wings drooping low, and my black kitten curled on his lap purring while Uriel stroked him with two fingers. Watching with surprise and affection, I couldn’t stop staring at the long stroke from my kitten’s crown down along his spine where he’d crook his fingers to curl around his tail, then start again.
“I wanted to talk to you.” His honeyed baritone in the silence made me flinch. He continued petting Deimos, keeping his gaze down.
“All right.” I sounded remarkably steady, as if it was completely normal for me to have an archangel sitting on my living room floor at bedtime, petting my kitten.
Carowyn’s warning swirled in my head, but I told myself she had to be wrong. Uriel wasn’t a creature who sought earthly pleasures or human relationships. Even if there was this tugging in my sternum, it meant nothing. And if it did, I couldn’t allow myself to take that risk, to let him see what I was reduced to as Vladek’s woman. The shame was still too great. Like a pin in a butterfly’s wing, it kept me forever bound to the dark memory of him. I’ve tried to free myself, but all I do is flap and flounder, tearing my wings to pieces.
Stepping around the chair, I took a seat on the sofa, smoothing the robe to be sure my legs were covered.
“I was thinking about where we’ll be going and—”
He’d lifted his gaze to me and froze.
“Yeah.” I swept my hair over one shoulder, lifting and examining the long strands. “It looks rather different, doesn’t it?” In the darkness of the room with only the firelight, it was almost black.
He didn’t respond, just raked me from head to toe in my night robe. I refrained from tightening it again. I was well-covered. Still, his unguarded stare heated my blood in an unsettling
way.
Who was I kidding? He always unsettled me. Rattled me right down to my core. Even in chains and dejected and humiliated back in Estonia, his presence had tuned me with an alarming vibration straight to my bones. And it had nothing to do with fear. I could finally admit that. It was undeniable yearning that trembled through me then, and even more now. Especially when he raked me with that burning blue gaze.
“You were thinking about where we’ll be going and—?” I tried to knock him out of his trance.
He lifted Deimos and set him on the rug, still curled into a ball, and then took a seat next to me.
Not good. Close proximity was doing strange things, twisting my insides. More so than before.
Carowyn was right. Sort of. But it was the other way around. He wasn’t leaning toward me. It was me leaning to him. Like he had a lodestone with my name engraved upon it fixed inside his chest, I had to focus to keep from gravitating toward him. Breaking away from his overwhelming gaze, I stared at my hands in my lap, fidgeting with the sash of my gown.
“I think you need more protection with where we’re going,” he said gently.
I shrugged on a laugh, the soft flannel of my robe not much of a barrier with him sitting so close. I hadn’t changed into my nightgown yet. I would have if I’d known he was still here, just to have one more layer of separation between us. Now, the idea of him sitting this close while the robe draped loosely over my naked skin felt entirely too intimate. My body practically hummed with desire.
“We can’t bring guards, you know that,” I said. “Besides, there’s no one else who could come with us.” I looped a finger around the long tendril of blue hair dangling at my temple. “Hence, the reason I had to do this.”
Finally looking up, I wished I hadn’t. He may still have the appearance of one of Michelangelo’s marble angels, but his eyes burned a searing path as they traced my hair, my face, my mouth. I gulped hard.
“No.” The one word was husky and too hard, not like his normal smooth timbre. “We can’t bring extra protection, but I can offer you something. A way of escape if you need it.”
Coldest Fire (Dominion series) Page 9
