“You at least know he’s a warrior.” She said it as snidely as possible.
“My dear, I was never as stupid as you treated me.”
“Yet you’re missing a set of wings.”
His sharp inhale echoed across the distance and his upper lip curled. “You’re a frigid bitch.”
A low rumble emanated from Mateo. James’s regard shifted, interest lighting his cunning gaze. She wanted to step in front of Mateo and block him from view. But one thing she’d learned in her career was to show no emotion, only evoke it.
“Are you with her?” Jameson’s tone lightened. He dropped his head back and laughed. “Oh Chanel, get them young when they don’t know any better, correct? I guess that’s what you did to me.”
“We were sync mates. I had no choice in the matter.” Gifting her with an existential crisis. What horrible thing had she done to deserve him? She folded her hands in front of her, like she had all the time in the world. “I was attacked yesterday, in my home.” She’d almost said “our.”
Jameson’s smile faded. He hadn’t known. “Indeed.” He was trying to play it off, but she could see his mind spinning. “It must’ve been scary for you.”
He sounded like she’d done nothing more than trip over a pebble and skin a knee. His attempt at intimidation was obvious. He sought to use the information to his advantage, make her think she should be terrified of him.
She knew him. He knew her, and that was the only reason they were still in this foul-smelling alley. He sensed she had something important.
“James, our souls were once linked. Don’t try to play it off. You didn’t know about the attack on me, and I doubt you know how entrenched Julian is in this situation. I honestly don’t care about your petty attempt to overthrow Numen. I don’t believe you can do it, and I trust you will be stopped.” She took a step forward. Mateo put a hand on her arm and she barely restrained herself from jerking out of his grasp. “I’m here to inform you that you need to clean up your mess. Send a message to anyone who thinks they can hurt Julian that they will be obliterated. Then follow up. You failed me. You failed at your job. You failed your realm. Don’t you dare fail him.”
James winced. Mateo’s grip softened. He might’ve feared her motivation for coming was to indulge in some female drama over a male she once used to love with all her being.
No, she was, above all, a mother. “You destroyed us, James. Julian is all I have left and he’s good. Noble and honorable. You’ve put him in the atrocious position of defending the realm against his fallen father who doesn’t have the grace to stay down.”
James’s mouth worked, chewing on words he had yet to utter. Finally, he spoke. “I’ve already sent word that he should be cautious.”
She sneered, an unladylike sound ripping out of her. James’s eyes flared. Mateo’s gaze jerked toward her. Yes, it was unlike her and she didn’t care. “Sending word isn’t going to protect against angel fire. It isn’t going to keep his wings attached if he gets framed like Director Vale was, nor will it provide a miracle for getting them back. I want you to send your people a message: fuck with your son and die.”
Her ex watched her as he took his time inhaling and exhaling. “Point made, Chanel. I can’t help but wonder… If you’d shown this much emotion during our time together, perhaps things would’ve been different.”
She’d had many years to ponder these questions. She’d gone through all the stages of grief more times than she could count and had a few realizations along the way. “Don’t you dare blame me for your fragile masculinity. So I was cold. I didn’t smile enough. We had eternity to work on us. You gave up on me.”
There went the muscle in his jaw. “Ah, but as I recall, you were the one who got the ball rolling. There was no talk of reconciliation. Who gave up on whom?”
She cocked her head, giving him an appraising look that was meant to strip his delicate ego further. “It really is all about you, isn’t it? You didn’t think of our son and how he was getting old enough to follow you to this realm? Or how he was curious about what his father was up to?” She straightened her gaze. “Or how those people you colluded with might try to sway him? All scenarios that could’ve cost him his own wings?”
His nostrils flared. No, he hadn’t thought about all that. He really was as selfish as she remembered. Probably more so.
“I may not be warm, James. I didn’t fetch your slippers or rub your back. I wasn’t playing hide and seek with Julian or building gingerbread houses. No, I wasn’t the warm and fuzzy matron you and others thought I should be, but one thing was and still is my priority—Julian’s safety, and it doesn’t matter if he’s the fiercest fighter in the realm. Because I’m a parent.” She hooked her hand around Mateo’s arm. This conversation was nearing its end. “Do you have the balls to be one?”
She tugged her companion away. There was no resistance. He was stunned by her comments, but not nearly as much as her ex.
But that was the thing about James, or Jameson—it didn’t matter the name. He underestimated those closest to him.
Chapter 6
Night was falling in Atlanta. Jagger hunkered down in a sedan he’d rented just for tonight. The quaint, two-story house had a new paint job that was at odds with the overgrown grass and untrimmed hedges.
According to Felicia, Mrs. Washington and Claudia were often alone. Her husband was a truck driver. Was Mrs. Washington normally so unaffected by how her yard looked, or was she distracted due to the demon presence in her life? Were there more than sylphs tampering with her? He spotted a familiar statue in the garden.
“A fucking gnome,” he murmured.
Felicia shifted next to him. They were parked half a block away in front of a house with a for-sale sign. Her hair was bound behind her neck and she was dressed in a black T-shirt and black leggings. He’d done the same to blend better.
She’d balked at slitting her top in the back, but depending on what they were up against, they might need their wings to fight. Now’s not the time to think about fashion, princess. The statement had felt wrong when he’d said it, and so had the beat of alarm in her eyes when he’d handed her the scissors.
Felicia was a lot of things, but the more he was around her, the more inadequate “princess” was for a description.
“What’s with the gnome?” She squinted and tilted her head from left to right.
The harder she tried, the less she’d see. “Relax enough to lose focus. Remember what I said: thousand-yard stare.”
He’d already studied the surrounding houses and found no similar garden decor. Good. This was an isolated demon infestation.
“But it’s a gnome. What does a demon need with an inanimate—oh.” She slumped in her chair, her eyes wide, her mouth open. “I see it.”
Those full lips. He dragged his gaze back to the garden. “They prefer gnomes. The face confuses the eye. Most angels roaming the realm wouldn’t think to look at them, and if they do a double take, they’re looking harder and won’t see the gargoyle hiding inside.”
“I had no idea they could possess statues.”
“Not possess. Hide in. They can’t move or command the statue like an archmaster does with a human.”
“I see. What’s the point, though? I thought they ate human flesh, and biting the ankles of a human weeding the garden seems counterproductive.”
She’d likely come up with the answer, but their time was limited. The gargoyles would alert the sylphs inside the house to their presence. And while he enjoyed far too much seeing how quickly she problem solved issues that’d cause most people to give up, she had a lot to learn.
“They’re the carrions of the demon world. Scavengers.”
“Ah. No need to hide bodies when gargoyles can eat them.” Her gaze flicked from the garden to the house. “They aren’t planning to kill Claudia’s mom, are they?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Has she alluded to having you over?”
Felicia shook her head and froze. “Wait
. She mentioned a party to celebrate the class achieving a new level. She said the instructors were invited as well.”
“When?” The invite had to be more than a coincidence.
Her brow crinkled as she thought. “It was before all this started.”
“Right before? Like when Odessa was going through the records of the watcher Jameson murdered?”
Felicia’s expression turned troubled. “About the same time.”
He wasn’t getting a good feeling.
“But I wasn’t there, so they didn’t test.” Her eyelids drifted shut. “The class insisted on waiting until I got back. Dammit. No one was supposed to know where I lived.”
“Did your father?”
She answered gravely, “He wouldn’t have told anyone.”
“But if he’d had the information recorded somewhere…”
She watched the house. Heartbreak rippled over her strong features. “I have to quit my job.”
He followed her gaze. It was on the tip of his tongue to deny what she’d said, but her students—kids—were being used to spy on her. “I’m sorry.”
There were no tears, just grim acceptance. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. There was more going on behind those pretty eyes of hers than sorrow for walking away from a job she loved.
She chewed on her bottom lip and he had to switch his attention to the house. “I can’t afford to move.”
“Where did your father’s wealth go?”
Her tone was flatter than the tires on the bicycle dumped in the Washingtons’ yard. “Holy shit, I’m rich.” She rolled her eyes toward him. “I’m not touching his money. He was nothing more than a puppet for some very bad people.”
All senators were rich. It was the nature of their station—the angels working in their households made money for them. Most angels had no need for currency. Their realm ran on the exchange of goods and services, and if gold was transferred, it was only because money would be needed in the human world.
“No one would fault you for using it to take care of yourself.” He would’ve, once, but he’d seen how little she cared to touch it. He’d been living how she lived. Making his own breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and cleaning the bathroom once a week.
It…sucked.
“I would. He was a crook and people got hurt because of it.”
“Like Director Vale.” His director’s burn scars were from a doomed mission Felicia’s father had sent him on.
“And so many others.” The incident was before Jagger had trained to be a warrior, but there were a few openings on Bryant’s team afterward, so no, it hadn’t turned out well for those warriors.
“It’s almost dark enough. We go in after sundown.” It hadn’t been necessary to stake out Claudia’s house, but once he’d gotten the go-ahead from Dionna, he couldn’t have stayed in that small, square apartment any longer.
They waited in silence as night fell. Felicia fingered the edge of the blade he’d loaned her. He didn’t care to go in with half his gear, but he also wasn’t going to tell Felicia to stand back and watch. One, she wouldn’t. And two, she’d still need to be armed.
Even though this was a simple in and out with minor demons that didn’t concern Jagger, he was as nervous as his first battle, and not for himself. Felicia sparred. She’d never been in a life-or-death fight. He didn’t have to ask to know.
The way she weighed and studied his blades told him enough. In her beautiful face was too much curiosity and more innocence than she’d have if she’d battled for her life.
Yet there was a hardness there he couldn’t explain. She’d grown up as privileged as him. His father was a fallen and his mother could make granite cry. He used to think he’d won the award for shittiest upbringing, but Felicia’s mother had killed herself and her father had dabbled in treason.
Then there was her reputation, and he had to admit it didn’t bother him like it once had. After the attack, she’d started living life on her own terms, and that had included sleeping with whomever she chose. Those who gossiped about her were trying to control her by shame, or make themselves feel more righteous. Either way, it was about them and not her, and he’d done the same. All the while, she’d had her flings. She remained friendly with some, but respectful about them all.
And as far as being respectful, she hadn’t offered herself to anyone since he’d been guarding her. She didn’t complain about needing to get laid or boast of her past conquests—yet she was savvy enough to know that would get to him. So either she didn’t care to rile him in that way or…she slept around when she wanted to but she didn’t want to right now. Because of him? That was obvious, but his mind churned over the why.
She was a puzzle. He only had pieces and no clue how to put them together.
Thank God it was finally dark out. He was driving himself crazy. “Ready?”
“Let’s go save Mrs. Washington.”
* * *
This was the closest to being a warrior she’d ever get. Without functional wings, there was no way Bryant would sign off. Not that she’d try. Or that she’d thought about it. Much.
What was she going to do? She couldn’t work around humans if it brought demons to their door. She couldn’t go back to Numen and twiddle her thumbs while living off Father’s money. And no to sleeping in the pristine alleys of the realm. Two of those scenarios would only make her people nod sagely and say, “I knew it.”
She walked casually next to Jagger. When he darted into a neighboring yard, she followed. But when he pried out two landscape bricks, she didn’t know what to do.
He handed them to her. “I’ll go in the back. Take out the gnomes before they can sound an alert.”
Her first foray into the world of demons and it was going to be smashing cute garden statues. “The gargoyles will go back to Daemon, just like that?”
Jagger nodded and held up three fingers and counted down. Once he made a fist, they each swept into motion. She gripped the heavy landscaping bricks and smashed the gnomes just as Jagger set off the car alarm. The snarls of the gargoyles faded into the night with the alarm. He pocketed the key.
They waited in tense silence. No windows opened. Had the occupants heard? Were they going to come out and check? Sylphs were like ghosts, and if they popped out and saw the gnomes shattered, they’d know they’d been discovered.
Nothing happened.
“There,” Jagger said. “That mess is done. Now we wait again.”
“Claudia should be in bed.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned hunting possessed parents, it’s that just because kids are in bed doesn’t mean they’re asleep.”
The nights she and Ode had stayed up whispering and giggling sprang to mind. “Oh.”
“And the more awake they are, the harder the sylphs will try to either rouse them and bust our cover so we’re in danger of exposing ourselves, or use them against us.”
The gravity in his tone made her wonder if he’d learned the hard way. His job was harder than she’d thought. Truthfully, she hadn’t given it much consideration. Warriors muttered some incantation that booted the demon out of the host’s body and disappeared into the Mist. Sylphs were even easier because they weren’t inhabiting an earthly creature. They just got booted to the Mist and terminated. Harrowing complications like witnesses, children, and discovery hadn’t occurred to her.
An hour ticked by. Her knees were getting as tender as her back, but Jagger hadn’t moved or grunted so she wouldn’t either.
A light flicked on behind a small square window she guessed was the upstairs bathroom. She lifted her gaze and gasped.
“No,” she breathed.
Mrs. Washington peered out between the blinds, but it wasn’t just her. Overlaid over her features was a gnarly face with horns. The woman was possessed.
“Hold still,” Jagger murmured. They both crouched in their hiding spot as Mrs. Washington glowered at the street before ducking back. “Remember the plan?”
She no
dded. He’d discussed this scenario with her before leaving the apartment.
“Follow my lead.”
Trailing behind him and his tight ass was no hardship. Keep your head in the game, girl. This was her first demon fight. Maybe. She was only here as backup, but she had to be ready.
He withdrew a pick kit from his pocket. The door was wired to an electronic security system and she was about to whisper what the hell was he thinking when he used his free hand to send a pulse of energy to short the system.
Her jaw dropped. She’d never used her natural Numen energy on Earth. Would’ve never thought of it. In her realm, she could power minor devices that needed electricity. But on Earth, there was, well, electricity. If she used her own mojo, she risked raising questions that could risk her wings.
She’d resumed her composure by the time he freed the lock. Tiptoeing in behind him, she ran through the plan. They were going to jump as many sylphs as they could while Mrs. Washington was in the bathroom. That was it.
It sounded easy, but Jagger was in stealth mode. He didn’t make a sound and he moved swiftly though the back entry into the kitchen and glided up the stairs, hugging the wall.
She mimicked everything and grimaced each time her back brushed the wall, the whisper of fabric against the wallpaper as loud as the shout of a bullhorn. They reached the top and he peered down the hallway.
He pointed to the far side of the bathroom door. That was where she was to go. He would stay on the side Mrs. Washington was most likely to turn when exiting and she would be there for backup, just in case.
Once positioned, he caught her eye and tipped his head toward the far end of the hall. Claudia’s room. And the damn door was open.
No big deal.
But it could be. She didn’t want to be spotted by her former student doing this nasty business. Once she and Jagger disappeared into the Mist, then Mrs. Washington would be left behind, confused and reeling. But they had to get to that point without being detected.
Words drifted out of the bathroom. Manic rumblings.
Wicked Fire: Angel Fire, book 2 Page 6
