Bad Boys of the Underworld Box Set

by Jacey Ward

  Luckily for Sera, she was a lot harder worker than her transcripts at Oakland Community College seemed to suggest, because she definitely wasn’t going to give Harry the other thing he wanted from her.

  In any case, Sera had recently graduated with her paralegal diploma and she had hopes that within a year, she would be on a bus heading out of the wretched city she had tried so hard to escape since running away from home at age sixteen.

  “Why are you just standing there?” he demanded. “You have to get going before someone else hears about them!”

  Sera gritted her teeth and reached for her jacket which was hanging off the back of her chair.

  “I’ll be out all day,” she informed him, although she wasn’t sure why she bothered to mention it. She was basically free to come and go as she pleased provided she brought back the clients he craved.

  “I don’t care,” Harry replied flippantly as she had known he would. “Just bring me back at least one of the three.”

  Sera knew her track record was better than that, but she made no comment as she shrugged past him and headed toward the dingy hallway.

  She was grateful to be leaving the headache-inducing atmosphere, even though it was raining, and she was going to be taking a bus to the hospital.

  As she headed toward the elevator, Conrad called out to her, running to her side like the eager dog he seemed to be.

  “Hey Sera!” he breathed, joining her as she jabbed almost violently at the down button.

  Sera rolled her beautiful green eyes as she willed the elevator doors to open quickly.

  “What do you want, Conrad?” she asked, trying to be patient with the intern.

  “I just wanted to tell you I’m ordering pizza for the office today. My treat. What can I get on yours?”

  Ordering for the office? She thought, shaking her head and sighing internally. The three of them made up the office whole office.

  Looks like you and Harry have a date today then, she thought, knowing that Conrad was half in love with her, but frustrated because she had never given him any encouragement whatsoever, yet he continued to try to engage with her.

  “Nothing, Conrad,” she replied flatly as the light flashed to announce the elevator’s arrival. “I’m gone for the day.”

  Stepping into the car, she noted the crestfallen look on his face and she wondered why he tried so hard.

  Can’t you see that I’m only here until I can scrape together enough to leave this place? I won’t take anything with me, either. Not even my memories, she vowed. Especially my memories.

  Instead she continued to stare coldly at him until he balked and stepped back. “Fine then,” he said snidely, maybe finally getting the hint?

  Wow, am I a sadist?

  The idea made her wonder, especially when she realized she was horny.

  Yep. I am a sadist. Jeez, I need to get laid or something. How bad is my sex life?

  Stepping into the wet air, she made her way to the bus stop, digging for her pass and mentally rifling through the rolodex of fuck friends she had stored in her phone.

  The current lot was growing tiresome but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t settle eventually.

  But work came first.

  Without a paycheck, she couldn’t make her way to Florida where she had been dreaming of going since she could remember her dreams.

  To her surprise, the bus rolled up a minute later and Sera was surprised by her luck.

  Under normal circumstances, she would find herself waiting in inclement weather for half an hour before she could board an overcrowded vehicle.

  She settled into a seat easily, another unusual occurrence. What the hell? Since when is the bus not crowded at this time of day? She asked herself. Wow, either her luck was changing, or something very ominous was about to happen.

  The bus driver smiled at her and Sera gaped.

  She was sure she had never seen a driver grin at her in her entire life.

  Am I in the Twilight Zone?

  Walking into the hospital always made Sera nervous and today was no different. It was a Monday morning; the emergency room at Henry Ford was overflowing, people in various throes of pain or discomfort.

  Despite the mishmash of human misery before her, it was not hard for Sera to spot the people whom she sought.

  The slip and fall victim was moaning loudly, the hit and run rubbing his neck and the small child who had been bitten by the dog had a loud-mouthed mother demanding justice to a police officer.

  Sera examined the situation, wondering which one would be the most money.

  Dog bite makes the most sympathetic victim, she decided. But the hit and run has insurance companies behind it…unless the slip and fall was on city property.

  It was clear to see that none of the afflicted were suffering life threatening injuries.

  That’s a shame. Harry will be disappointed. He’s going to have to do some work for these ones to make any money.

  Sera was sure that the car accident and fall were both milking the attention for a payout anyway. The little girl who had been bitten by the dog was already stitched and bandaged, but that did not stop her mother from screaming bloody murder, as the five-year-old sat appearing dazed.

  For a moment, Sera wished she had thought to bring Conrad along with her. At least they could divide and conquer in that case.

  But then I would have to share credit with that puppy. No, I can do this, she decided. I will start with the -

  Her mossy eyes rested on a large, stoic figure perched on a stretcher in the middle of the action, his grey eyes gazing serenely about as if he was trying to figure out where he was.

  And what do we have here? Brain injury? She wondered with interest, noting the gauze on his temple and the slight swelling showing around it. How did that happen? Police brutality maybe? She wondered, eyeing the cops who seemed to be standing guard not far away.

  In spite of his injury, it was clear he was remarkably good looking, his sooty eyes seeming to hold the wisdom of the world in their depth.

  His hair was as black as sin, shiny and with a slight wave as it fell over his left eye. Sera wanted to run her fingers through it.

  Although he was sitting, she could tell he was tall and muscled, but there was something beyond that which intrigued her, something elusive and dark.

  Sera had not realized that she had stepped toward him, examining his face for telltale signs of trauma. She could sense nothing but an almost eerie peace radiating from him.

  Slowly, his eyes rested on her and Sera felt her heart stop.

  Their stares met, and she inexplicably could not form words either with her mouth, nor in her mind, as if the man had wiped her thoughts and motor skills with a single look.

  Then his eyes moved past her and Sera found herself turning to look over her own shoulder.

  Just behind her, the two uniformed cops stood, casting suspicious looks at the man as they chatted with an abused looking doctor.

  Sera casually moved toward them, honing her ears to hear what was being said.

  “…I can’t discuss his condition with you!” the resident snapped. “You know the rules as well as I do, Sanders. Now if you’ll stop wasting my time, I have a full ER, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “Wait!” Sanders yelled after her retreating back. “How long before he’s being released?”

  “We are waiting for his CT scans to come back. I would like to keep him here overnight to be sure,” she called back. “You can come back tomorrow and speak with him. If I see you in here before that, Sanders, I will have you escorted from the hospital.”

  She didn’t wait for an answer as she disappeared among the maze of patients.

  The cops exchanged a look and Sera watched as they ensured the resident was not coming back before turning toward the man.

  “Mr. Smith,” the one called Sanders said as he neared. “I have a couple questions for you.”

  Sera shook her auburn waves and grimaced.

&nb
sp; Typical cops, she thought, watching for a moment to see how he handled the scenario.

  “I have already told you everything I can,” he replied, and Sera was stunned at the mellifluous quality of his voice.

  It sent shivers though her.

  I want him, she realized. I want him badly.

  Licking her lips, she drew nearer, and he looked up at her, causing her pulse to race again.

  “I don’t think you’ve told me everything,” Sanders growled. “I think you had some drug deal that went wrong by the river and that’s why we’re here. Is that what happened?”

  The man they called Smith shook his head.

  “No,” he answered simply, and Sera could read the frustration on the policemen’s faces.

  “If you tell us now before we find out the truth for ourselves, it will make it much easier on you,” the nameless cop offered. “We’re giving you a way to save yourself.”

  “I fear I can offer you nothing else,” he told them and even Sera believed him.

  “You’re only making things worse for yourself – “

  “Excuse me,” Sera interrupted, stepping up toward the law enforcement officers. They turned to look at her.

  “Yes?” Sanders asked, seeming annoyed.

  “Didn’t I just hear the doctor tell you that this man is off limits today?” she asked.

  Sander’s face grew crimson.

  “Lady, mind your own business!” he snapped. “This doesn’t concern you!”

  “I would say that my boss would beg to differ,” Sera replied easily, digging one of Harry’s cards from her purse and thrusting it at the cop. “Serafina Kennedy, agent for Harry Winston.”

  The men looked down at the card, scowls forming on their faces in unison.

  “Goddamn shysters,” the nameless cop snapped. “How did Winston even know he was here?”

  “What is your name and badge number, officer?” Sera asked, flipping open her notebook. “I want to make sure I have it down properly for the lawsuit.”

  He gaped.

  “Come on, Lopez,” Sanders muttered. “Let’s go.”

  He glared at Sera.

  “We’ll be back tomorrow,” he assured her, and she shrugged.

  “I don’t care,” she replied, and she meant it. The cops did not intimidate her the way they had when she was a child and was told often by her abusive parents that the cops would take her away forever if she ever talked to them.

  She was a grown woman now, but for some reason, she had the overwhelming urge to protect this man from them.

  She watched as they skulked away before turning to the stranger, a feeling of both calm and excitement flowing through her.

  “If they come back tomorrow, you should probably hire a real lawyer,” she told him. He didn’t immediately answer, studying her face closely.

  “Okay?” she asked, suddenly very self-conscious.

  “I will not be here tomorrow,” he told her.

  “No?” she asked but she wasn’t sure why she was so interested.

  He shook his head.

  “No. I will be with you.”

  A shiver pierced through Sera and she wasn’t sure if she was nervous or aroused by his words.

  He feels the attraction between us too, she realized. But then she mentally shook her head. But if he thinks this is going to be anything more than sex, he’s sorely mistaken.

  “You are?” she replied teasingly, glancing about. “How do you know that?”

  He smiled.

  “Because you are the one for whom I have been searching.”

  Chapter Three

  Nathaniel

  Harrowing.

  It was the only word he could use to describe what was happening to him as he wandered through the desolate streets of Mexico City.

  Never had he seen such scum, such deterioration.

  It had been two centuries since he had stepped foot on earthly soil and it seemed impossible that the world had advanced and fallen behind simultaneously.

  There were so many people, a cesspool of leering smiles, reeking of debauchery.

  Nathaniel had been certain that he would never long for the serenity and cleanliness of heaven’s gold paved streets, when he had longed to wander the earthly avenues below for so long.

  How am I ever to find Cassiel in such a scenario? He wondered woefully, but no answer came from above.

  It had been two weeks and he knew he was closer than he had been, but still, he could not sense his stepbrother among the commotion.

  Nathaniel’s senses were overloaded, but he dared not rest.

  He needed to know what Cassiel was up to on earth again.

  For centuries he has been marinating in revenge. How far will he go? What will he do?

  Nathaniel knew the man with whom he had once roamed the Georgian villages of England was no longer.

  Gone would be the meek, mild mannered boy who had sought his approval at every turn, following his father’s death. When Cass’ father had died suddenly, his mother had latched onto Nathaniel’s widower father, offering him the services of a wife (in all ways) in order to support her and her son. Cass had only been two years old at the time, so he grew up feeling that Nathaniel was a true brother to him. He never stopped trying to impress his stepbrother, or gain his acceptance, in spite of how Nathaniel had ignored him completely. Or worse.

  Nathaniel could only imagine what kind of man lay in his place now.

  It seemed uncouth that the angels would send him back to Earth without assistance, knowing what Cassiel was capable of.

  Or what they believed they knew.

  What they truly know is my own fury. They know little of my stepbrother.

  In retrospect, Nathaniel felt he had done his brother a great favor by having him banished to the underworld. The tediousness of Heaven was exhausting after all.

  There was no excitement, no thrill.

  Immediately, Nathaniel silenced his unholy thoughts.

  The alternative was much, much worse, he knew.

  It was why he had blamed the murder on his brother, after all.

  And the fool had accepted his fate, without any furious denials.

  But when Cass fell, Nathaniel had felt a stabbing in his heart so ferocious, he was brought to his knees. The look in his brother’s eyes screamed of the betrayal, and it had haunted the older brother for hundreds of years.

  And now Cassiel was back.

  In a way, Nathaniel had anticipated the day, knowing that the underworld would either harden or break the loving Cassiel.

  Before their deaths, Cassiel had been a moderately educated carpenter with a gentle way and quiet manner.

  Nathaniel, on the other hand, had been a Lothario, a smooth-talking charmer, with too little regard for others and even less for himself.

  He had died at the hands of a lover’s jealous husband at only twenty-seven years of age, while influenza had claimed his stepbrother Cassiel at twenty-one.

  At least I died in the throes of pleasure, he often thought, remembering his final climax before the knife had cleanly cut across his throat.

  He had never seen it coming.

  No one had been more shocked than him when he had arrived at the pearly gates, St. Peter shaking his head ruefully.

  “Oh, praise God!” Nathaniel sighed when he realized he was not in the pits of Hell, repenting for his sins.

  I knew it! He scoffed silently. There is no Hell. There is likely no God!

  “There must be some mistake,” the guardian announced, peering at the roster through bespectacled eyes. “You have lived your life as an unworthy soul who thinks little of others, and a lot for yourself. You should be cast into at least the fourth circle of Hell.”

  The smugness which Nathaniel had initially felt faded away and he stared at St. Peter.

  “No!” he insisted. “There is no mistake! I may have made poor choices, but my heart is good!”

  St. Peter snorted and eyed him.

  “I see
nothing but your debaucherous ways,” he retorted. “But I also see you have a bonding referral. I have no choice but to grant you access – for now.”

  The relief which Nathaniel felt was immeasurable.

  “Thank you!” he gasped, reaching to embrace the sentry, but St. Peter stepped back, shaking his head.

  “Please,” he said, holding up his hand in disgust. “Do not touch me. Your sin may be catching.”

  Nathaniel’s brow furrowed.

  “But this is Heaven. Don’t you have to treat me with respect?” he replied in confusion.

  “Yes, it is Heaven, Nathaniel,” St. Peter said with a long drawn out sigh. “You must leave all your sin here at the gates, or suffer the consequences.”

  Nathaniel stared at him, unsure of how to respond.

  “And if I do not?” he asked, cautiously. “Then what?”

  “You will be banished into the Seventh Circle for eternity.”

  It sounded unbearably hot to his ears.

  “You have one single chance to prove yourself worthy here, whereas others are often forgiven in Heaven. Should you upset the harmony of our lives here, Nathaniel, you will be cast out forever. One. Single. Chance. Do you understand?”

  Nathaniel clenched his teeth together, his fists closing at his side like a defiant child.

  “I suppose I do,” he retorted.

  “Anger is a sin, Nathaniel,” St. Peter pointed out. “I suggest you leave that here also.”

  It was then that the self-centered man first learned to mask his true feelings.

  “You may enter,” St. Peter sighed, as if permitting such an action was causing him great grief.

  Nathaniel paused, glancing back at him.

  “Was it my father who recommended me?” he asked.

  St. Peter burst into peals of laughter, staring at him haughtily. Tears formed in his eyes as if the words were simply hysterical.

  “Oh goodness no!” he chortled. “Your father is in the Fifth Circle. He was a true sinner. The apple does not stray far from the branch, now does it? No, Nathaniel, it was your brother. He believes you can be saved, but we have our doubts.”

  “Edward?” Nathaniel gasped. “But he was just a boy when he died!”