Savage Bond (The Fallen)

by Anne Marsh

He kept right on talking, not waiting for an answer she didn't have. "I can smell your emotions right now, Ria, and they're goddamned delicious. Arousal. A little sweet trepidation because you know I'm not lying about the danger. You think that's sexy and you're curious about what else I could show you. Don't be," he said, his voice hard and mean. "Don't wonder about me, Ria. When the Fallen were exiled from the Heavens, the archangel in charge took away our wings and then, just for a little added fun and games, he took away our ability to feel anything but the darkest of emotions."

  "You can't feel?" Those words of his made no sense. He felt. She knew he did.

  "Not the gentler emotions," he said. "Hunger, lust, rage—we got to keep those. But all the good ones? Those are long gone, Ria. I don't do love because I can't, not first-hand. What I can do, though, is feel what you're feeling. I can get my emotional high that way and make no mistake about it. I'm an addict. I crave those feelings and, every single day, I'm jonesing for my next fix because a male can only go so long before the soul thirst overwhelms him. Most of the Fallen, they bond with a human—get their fix that way."

  "And if they don't?"

  "Then the soul thirst takes over and that Fallen goes rogue. I was too close again last night, Ria. It can't happen again."

  "Again."

  "I lost control once. I had a bond mate and I took and I took from her. Every single emotion she had, I lapped it up."

  "What happened to her?"

  He stepped away from her. "What happens to any bond mate if her bonder isn't careful. I took it all. I left nothing for her. She died in my arms, Ria, because I was a fucking, careless beast. So don't romanticize this. I belong right here in the Preserves with every other Fallen angel who couldn't manage his thirst."

  She shouldn't have pushed, shouldn't have made him open up to her.

  But, oh, God. She's wanted to know.

  He'd almost given her something last night, wrapped around her in the dark shelter. His intensity had frightened her, and then his intrusion into her mind and soul had been too much.

  This was worse.

  Maybe, he was the monster he claimed to be. She didn't know if he could be redeemed, didn't claim to be an expert on his kind. All she could do was stare at his back and wonder if she was crazy to hope. To think that maybe they could work something out between them that was more than a rescue and less than a bargain.

  As she reached out a hand, the sound of a chopper broke the silence.

  Chapter Seven

  Ria wanted to cry, wanted to force Vkhin to admit she'd been right after all. MVD had come for her. The police unit's telltale red and white logo branded the bird's tail and the open bay door promised someone was ready to bring her home.

  The chopper changed things.

  She stopped walking. She was minutes away from rescue.

  "See?" She pointed towards the bird chewing up Fallen airspace, even though Vkhin hadn't turned around yet. His gaze went right to the chopper, though, so he'd seen, too. "I told you they'd come for me. I'm going home, Vkhin. Without your help."

  "Wait," he said and she wanted to scream. That was rescue up there. She didn't need him, didn't need his diabolical bargains. Of course, maybe he didn't intend to let her scramble aboard.

  Suddenly desperate, she darted out into the open and threw an arm over her head, waving madly. Seconds. She only had seconds to get the pilot's attention before the chopper swung round and continued the search pattern somewhere else. She should have stayed put, waited for help to come to her.

  Behind her, Vkhin cursed roughly and strode toward her. His arm snaked around her waist, dragging her back under the cover of the trees. "Don't," he growled.

  "Don't what?" She pushed at the arm restraining her, angry tears stinging her arms. "Don't try and get out of here on my own? Don't make this happen for myself?"

  "Don't be stupid, baby." He moved them further back under the canopy, his gaze raking the sky. Taking in the approaching chopper. "You don't know who or what is out there."

  "That is my team," she hissed. "That is my unit up there."

  "Maybe." His voice was as implacable as the arm he'd wrapped around her waist. "But how do you know this isn't a trap?"

  She didn't. But she didn't see any danger, other than the very real possibility the chopper wouldn't see her. Would keep on going and never land for her. She clawed at his arm, desperate to run back out and draw the chopper's attention. Already, the bird's course was arcing, the pilot heading north into a slow, gentle turn as he turned away from her hiding place and back towards the crash site.

  No. She opened her mouth to say something and the horizon exploded.

  Rogues filled the sky, their wings beating powerfully as they swarmed the chopper.

  Gunfire rang out. Those bullets weren't, she thought, sick with fear, going to be enough. There were too many rogues. The chopper's blades stuttered.

  Slowed.

  "No," she whispered.

  The blades stopped and the chopper plummeted towards the ground. Seconds later, the shockwave washed over her and smoke filled the sky.

  There wasn't going to be a rescue.

  She was still alone here. She couldn't even begin to think about the new loss MVD had just taken. There had been someone in that chopper. Maybe more than one. And now they were gone.

  The arm around her waist loosened. Let go. "MVD doesn't know what you know, Ria." His voice was cold and flat. She wanted to turn around and hit him. Scream out the frustration building inside her. "They thought you went down on a recon mission."

  "I sent my pictures out." She clung to that fact like a lifeline.

  "No." He shook his head and she forced her hands back down by her sides. She wasn't going to give in to the urge. She wouldn't hit him. She wasn't an animal. "I told you, Ria. We blocked that transmission. All MVD knows is that you found something you thought was important. Information you tried to send them, but the transmission broke up."

  No one knew.

  "Move out," he snapped. "Because, if those rogues saw you—and I'm betting they did— they'll be here in under an hour. You move, or you die."

  Ria moved.

  He'd expected that. Her would-be rescuers were dead and she still wanted to live. So she let him push her at a brutal pace. He kept an eye on the horizon, though, and there was no missing the small figures chewing up the air.

  The rogues were coming.

  An hour, tops, and that tail caught up with them and all hell broke loose. He planned to have Ria well over the wall before that happened. He didn't know how he kept the rogues from simply flying over and after her, but he'd figure it out. He had to.

  The trees came to an end and they were face to face with the wall.

  Vkhin stopped the steady up-and-down and she cartwheeled, trying not to plow into his back. She was too close. Going too fast.

  "We're here," she said, even though what she was seeing now required no explanation. The wall had been growing larger and larger, a big bad motherfucker slowly filling up the empty horizon. Three hundred yards away, there was no ignoring what that wall meant.

  She was almost home.

  The wall was the dividing line between the Preserves and civilization. He didn't understand why so many of his kind had described the wall as a thing of ugliness. That wall was goddamned beautiful in his eyes, because the brick-and-mortar magic of it was going to make sure he did the right thing here. Even if he wanted to, he wasn't following Ria Morgan out of here. He couldn't touch that warded wall for long and he'd be dead before he hit the top.

  "Now what? We go over?" He knew he should disabuse her of this idea she wouldn't give up. They weren't getting out together. He wasn't going anywhere.

  "You do. I stay here." He strode over to the wall, looking for the rungs set into the smooth surface. He'd give her a leg up, she'd climb, and that would be that. They were out of time. "But first you've got something to give me."

  Simple.

  The look on her face warne
d him she wasn't on board with the plan, however. "You can't stay here." Her fingers open and closed by her sides and she didn't move. "That's suicide, Vkhin."

  Maybe she hadn't got the memo that he'd been fighting his own battles for millennia. He looked down at his own body and he could see the power there. The weapons bristling from his back and sides. Yeah. He wasn't precisely a helping of helpless, so she shouldn't be worrying about him.

  "I can hold my own," he said. Which was an understatement. He didn't plan to leave one of the rogues shadowing them alive. "But, even if I couldn't, I can't go over the wall."

  "Can't or won't?"

  "Can't." He found the rungs, set deep into the wall. She'd have to stretch a little because the handholds had been placed with a male in mind, but she'd be able to do it. "Come over here and start climbing."

  "No." Her feet didn't move, so he headed back towards her. He'd put her on the damned wall himself, but first he had to part her from that vidstick.

  "This is where I belong."

  "Why?"

  "I've killed," he hedged.

  "You're a warrior," she countered. "Isn't a body count expected?"

  He didn't want to remind her about his dead bond mate or see the truth reflected in her eyes. She looked at him like he was still one of the Heavens' warriors, an anointed savior who could do no wrong—which couldn't have been further from the truth. Before the Fall, the Dominions had been brutal fighters. They'd held the line in the constant battle between good and evil, but at least they had been on the side of good. Now that they were Fallen, he knew precisely which side they were on.

  The wrong side.

  No. He wasn't doing that to her.

  Someone had set metal rungs into the wall. With enough upper body strength and lung capacity, any accidental human could climb on out. Those rungs were a primitive back up system, but right now he was grateful for them, because the sky was still clear. No rescue chopper hovered overhead. Maybe, the Fallen got there soon, but daylight was burning and Ria Morgan need out. Now. Before the rogues caught up.

  "I can't cross it," he gritted out. "No paranormal can touch that wall. The whole wall is warded—those sigils are one big keep-off-the-grass sign as far as I'm concerned. I touch that wall, I burn."

  Her look was yeah-right, so he laid the back of his wrist against the glowing surface of the wall. Sure enough, the skin started burning away before her eyes. The pain was a good wake-up call, too, reminding him he needed to get his head back in the game. Stop fantasizing about an impossible future where he and Ria Morgan got it on.

  "Stop it," she cried, and for a moment he wondered if she'd got inside his head, knew the thoughts he was thinking.

  He pressed harder. "This is just a taste," he said, as if she hadn't spoken. "The longer I touch the wall, the more I burn. No way I make it to the top."

  She lunged towards him, pulling his hand away. "You've made your point." Her fingers cupped the back of his hand, supporting his injured wrist as she tilted his arm left and then right. He probably could have handled his big reveal better, because she was looking at his hand if what she saw hurt her. She was a soft touch, he thought.

  He needed her to move, so he gave her more of the truth. "No, I haven't. You remember what happened to my last bond mate? I killed her."

  She chewed on her lower lip. "I thought you couldn't kill your bond mates."

  Cold smile. "We're not supposed to kill our own mates, no. That's the final line, sweetheart. When one of the Fallen can't control his soul thirst anymore, when he drinks that last little bit, then he's perfectly capable of killing, Ria. He wants to kill. You have any idea what a soul tastes like, pumped full of all that fear and adrenaline? Pure ecstasy," he growled. "Pure addiction."

  "You couldn't stop or you wouldn't stop?"

  "Either. Neither. When I let her go, she was dead," he said flatly. "I bonded with her. My help with a favor she needed—in exchange for a taste of her soul. Well, I took a hell of a lot more than that, Ria. I took it all. For any other Fallen, that would have been a death sentence." She shakes her head mutely. "Yeah." He watched her carefully. "We do police our own. Once a Fallen gives in to the soul thirst, once he goes rogue, we hunt that rogue down like a rabid dog and we make sure he doesn't hurt anyone else."

  "You're still here," she pointed out. "Your two and two aren't adding up here, Vkhin. Either you didn't kill her, or you did and you got away with it. Which is it?"

  He eyed her, but she clearly had to have the whole story. Wanted to hear his shame at the reprieve he'd been handed. "Zer needed me. We had a deal—once he'd got the whole leadership situation under control, he'd take care of me."

  Zer hadn't been ready or willing to take on the leadership of the Fallen. He'd wanted an assist and Vkhin had provided it. On that one condition.

  Zer had found his soul mate and stepped up to the plate, heading up the Fallen like he'd been born to play the part. That made it payback time.

  Ria watched him like she knew exactly what he was thinking. "Kill you."

  Those memories had tormented him for decades and laying them down would be a relief. Here in the Preserves he didn't need to hide that dark side of himself any longer. Here, he could admit he was no better than an animal and go about the business of dying or holding out until the soul thirst destroyed every last vestige of his sanity. He was almost done here.

  "I have every intention of paying that price," he assured her.

  Her anger surprised him. "Well, your death wish is going to have to wait, isn't it?"

  Not for long. "You, however, don't belong here," he growled. "So you hand over the vidstick and I'll give you a leg up and you can start climbing now."

  She looked like she wanted to say something else, but then, thank God, she shut the hell up and came over to the wall. "When I get to the top," she said stubbornly. "Once I see it's clear, then I'll give you the vidstick."

  He nodded, even though she undoubtedly was entertaining foolish thoughts of double-crossing him. Elsewhere, there were watchtowers and human military, but not here. And he didn't have time to take her further up the wall in search of her own kind.

  "Get up, get over and start walking," he ordered. "Don't stray from the wall. You'll set off the sensors when you cross but, if no one comes out here a second time for you, another ten miles and you should hit a tower. They'll get you back to M City."

  "And then what?"

  He shrugged as if he didn't care. "You get on with your life, Ria. You want to keep sending out your little drones, you do that. But my job here ends when you hand over the vidstick and cross that wall."

  Before she could argue further, he cupped his hands to give her a leg up. She hesitated, then stepped into his hands and reached for the first rung.

  And screamed.

  Christ almighty, she screamed. Panting, he caught her body as she arched away from the wall, pressing her hands against her body.

  "What. The. Hell," he roared.

  "Vkhin," she whimpered. "That hurt. You didn't warn me it would hurt."

  Her palms were smoking, the skin there cherry red. Like his. Before his head could process the intel his eyes were sending, she reached for the rungs again. As soon as her palm slapped against the metal, the smoking started right back up again.

  He ripped her away from the wall, peeling her hands off the rungs. Fuck. This was all wrong.

  She backed away from the wall double-time, staring down at her injured hands as she sat down, hard, on the ground. "Why can't I touch the wall, Vkhin?"

  "I don't know." He pulled off his t-shirt and crouched down next to her, tearing the white cotton into strips and wrapping them around her reddened palms. Not a hygienic choice, but his only one right now. His mind raced, examining and discarding possibilities. There was only one, of course.

  "You're not human," he said. "At least, not entirely."

  "Excuse me." Her hands jerked in his and he held on tight. "I am one hundred percent human. You think I wouldn'
t know if I had a paranormal parent? My father was a crotchety old bastard," she said, "but he was human. So was my mother. Find another theory."

  "No." He shook his head. "If you were one hundred percent human, you'd be able to climb that wall, baby. Somewhere, somehow, you got a little piece of us." He didn't like where his thoughts were taking him. Three of his brothers had found soul mates—and those women had been human women, with a genetic kicker. Their ancestors had all come from a lost tribe of Israel and who had a mutated strand of DNA.

  "How well do you know your family tree?" he asked. "Because, I'm betting, if you go back far enough, you're going to find a female in there who has Israeli roots and whose history got so lost in a diaspora millennia ago that you don't really know where she came from. That she was born to the thirteenth tribe of Israel and marked for us by an archangel."

  She eyed him, eyed the wall. The sky overhead was still too damned empty, so eventually she got back to looking at him. "Let's say, just for the sake of argument, that all that's true. What does it mean?"

  "It means," he said, "that the archangel Michael tagged your people millennia ago as mates for mine."

  Ria Morgan was a soul mate. This was something he'd never considered. Sure, she was beautiful and he'd wanted her from day one, but that just meant he had eyes in his head and knew how to use them. He'd never believed in any of the predestined mate crap the archangel Michael had spouted, but he'd seen Zer, after the male had found his soul mate and that was a thing of beauty. Those two felt something for each other, something Vkhin knew he didn't understand and could never have. That bond wasn't just sexual and it was sure as hell complicated.

  It took no-holds barred opening up—love—for a Fallen angel to get his wings back. Vkhin wasn't sure he was capable of that. Strike that. He knew he wasn't and hadn't been for centuries and possibly even longer. Still, just the thought of Ria Morgan finding that with another male had him growling and that was bad. She was off-limits. He was the transportation, nothing more.

  Except that he was the only Fallen on the scene and Ria Morgan needed an out, now. If he bonded with her and she was a soul mate, their bond would give him back his wings. If he had wings, he could fly her over the wall. Keep her safe. Take her home.