Wicked Fire: Angel Fire, book 2

by Johnston, Marie

  He lurched ahead. His vision was still hazy, whether from blood or trauma he didn’t know, but he could make out the dark rectangle of the door. But he couldn’t rejoice yet. He was in the archives. His wings were too tattered to fly to the ceiling and bust out one of the skylights. He had to get outside so he could to descend to a safe place and heal—if he could heal from this much trauma on his own.

  As soon as that thought drifted through his mind, a tingle flared across his wrist. Like some special sixth sense, he knew that it was his mating mark. There was a female out there gifted with its equal. All he had to do was find her and she could heal him.

  Would he allow her to if she weren’t Felicia?

  A forceful tug on his good wing had him gritting his teeth. He concentrated on whatever muscles were left in his wings and flung the assailant off. A feminine cry echoed off the walls, followed by a sickening thud.

  “I’ll go after everyone you love,” Stede growled, prowling around him but too much of a coward to tackle him. Jagger almost wanted him to try—so he could rip him to pieces with his bare hands. But Stede was cunning. He would run and hide like the dung beetle he was.

  Jagger glared over his shoulder. “You’ve already tried and failed.” He staggered out of the room and squinted down the hall. An exit door was to his right. Once he cleared that he could—

  “Byron!” Stede snarled. “Byron?”

  Jagger laughed and aimed his momentum toward the door, running. Byron was recovering from a throat punch. “Your help sucks, Stede. Your plan failed.”

  He’d expected an enraged yell, but all he heard was Stede’s chilling voice. “Who said that was my plan?”

  He should stick around and get more out of Stede, preferably with knives dipped in angel fire. But if he stopped now, he’d drop. Jagger put on one last burst of speed and opened the door, spilling outside.

  He couldn’t land on Earth looking like he did without risking revealing his kind. But his mating mark wasn’t calling him to that realm. Was Felicia in Numen? But he had to get out of here, or Stede would track him down and recapture him. Would his sync mate find him in the Mist? Felicia would, if she was his mate.

  He just had to pray that it was her that arrived.

  Chapter 19

  Mateo stopped and held a hand up. “I thought I heard voices.”

  If they had more time, she would’ve asked him why he wasn’t a warrior, even an enforcer. He had all the instincts and he was really competent. Was it Chanel keeping him planted in front of the senator’s door, or just a strong sense of duty? Wondering had kept her mind off what was happening to Jagger.

  She cocked her head to listen harder. “The trick is determining whether it’s normal daily archivist talk or if it’s because there’s a prisoner nearby.”

  Mateo gave a solemn nod.

  Their first stop had been Stede’s house. The place screamed bachelor angel. It was plain and barren, like it had recently been cleaned out. The male had resided close to the city center, within view of the fountain. But it was clear he hadn’t spent much time at home. Doors and windows were sealed, and when she and Mateo had entered, it was probably the first breath of fresh air the house had gotten in months.

  The archives had been next on their list. According to Chanel, there were several rooms that normal residents weren’t allowed to go in. She only knew of a few but it was a start.

  She and Mateo had started at one end of the archives and were working their way toward the other when a yell caught their attention.

  Rushing toward the sound, they stayed in the shadows, ensuring they wouldn’t be seen.

  “That’s him, I know it,” she hissed. They were hurting him, and she couldn’t get all the ways how they could do it out of her mind.

  The voices grew clearer, but she still couldn’t make out the words. Light flashed from a hallway up ahead, like a door had been opened. She stumbled, nearly falling, but she regained her balance and charged ahead. Mateo matched her step for step.

  A sharp pinch squeezed her wrist, and she was filled with the urge to be elsewhere. She slowed and Mateo threw her a confused look.

  Glancing down at her wrist, her eyes widened. A mating brand. An injured Jagger. This was absolutely not a coincidence.

  Mateo caught a glimpse of the mark and inhaled sharply. “Find him.”

  They rounded the corner. Stomach acid churned in her belly. Blood dotted and smeared the floor all the way to a door gaping open. But the hallway was empty.

  Mateo charged ahead to the opening of another room. He peered inside. “I’ve got one unconscious female and a male coughing on the floor.” He looked at her. “No Stede. I’ve got this. Find Jagger.”

  Stede had been here. Was he after Jagger? She kept going. She had no idea what waited outside that door on the soft green lawn surrounding the archives; she only knew she had to get out there.

  As soon as she crossed the threshold, she closed her eyes and concentrated. There was a strong pull toward… Cool droplets of water beaded on her skin. She opened her eyes. The Mist.

  He was here and he was waiting for her.

  She couldn’t process the whole mating aspect of the mark on her wrist. That would all come later. Right now, Jagger needed healing, and every molecule in her body hollered to get to him.

  It was almost impossible to see anything but fog and grass in the Mist. She followed her intuition, all the while looking, listening, and feeling for any presence other than her own.

  Several directionless steps later, she spotted blood droplets in the grass. “Jagger?”

  A faint groan came from the distance.

  She sprinted the rest of the way. His crumpled form came into view.

  “Those bastards,” she seethed. The flesh of his back had been ravaged. Her own back echoed in pain.

  Jagger adjusted enough to look at her through bleary green eyes. Somehow, despite his torn wings, blood-soaked clothes, and swollen face, he managed a small smile. “I hoped it was you.”

  She knelt. “I knew it was you.”

  How did this go again? She wasn’t ready to bond. But this wasn’t about a relationship, this was about saving his life.

  Laying her hands on him, she concentrated just like she had when she’d searched for him. Her body warmed, but it wasn’t enough. He raised his hand, the one with the brand on it, and linked it with hers. Heat swirled through her, into him, and back. Her awareness of him bloomed. They were bonding.

  She leaned over him, draping her body across the worst of his wounds and closed her eyes. Healing power flowed through her.

  This was the purpose of their people, the purpose of their bond, to be there for one another. Healing would be her duty as a warrior’s mate. But as much as she needed to save his life, she couldn’t ignore that she was giving hers over to the realm she’d sworn she wanted nothing to do with. Not only that, but healing Jagger linked their souls. Once they were bonded in body, they would be together forever.

  And while healing energy flowed through her into him, all she could think about was how well that had turned out for their parents.

  * * *

  Jameson watched Lindy. She didn’t know he was here. Truthfully, he’d also expected to be gone longer. He’d made it into the Mist again. Another chaperone dead. Jameson had tracked the oblivious sap, impaled him with demon metal, and ascended into the Mist. With enough of the angel’s blood coating him, he’d wandered the Mist, concentrating on his son.

  For a few moments, he’d felt a flicker of…something. The harder he’d concentrated on his kid, the stronger it had gotten. But that was all.

  Today was supposed to have been the day he went back to Numen—an accomplishment everyone believed impossible. If the motivation was to free Julian, so be it.

  He’d gotten close.

  Enough to watch his boy bond to an angel, the equivalent of giving his soul away.

  But he’d heal. Jameson would concentrate on that.

  And make everyo
ne else pay—for threatening his family in the first place, for trying to take Julian’s wings, and for making it all possible.

  He’d start here. In his own home.

  He eyed his target. She didn’t know he was here and she was somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be.

  Lindy ran her finger along the sharp end of one of his blades. She held it close to her face, focused on nothing but the metal. As he watched her search for and find his secret stash, he waited for her to acknowledge his presence. But one of the requirements of being in his bed was that his partners couldn’t be inhabited by a creature from Daemon. He wasn’t into fucking possessed creatures. It also meant their senses were blissfully human.

  She’d found his weapons. How convenient that he’d just bluffed to Stede about them. Had the male thought there was a ring of truth to his words?

  Another woman in his life had turned on him. She knew that he’d talked to Felicia that night. She was working with Stede. If she had just twisted the knife in his back, that’d be one thing. The interfering fool had put his son in danger.

  He didn’t need another woman in his life who was willing to ruin his. And for what? Was she getting paid? Or did she just want the joy of seeing him shredded and bleeding? Did it fulfill some empty hole inside of her to fuck him over?

  After this task was taken care of, he’d deal with the traitorous Stede. This problem had to be taken care of first.

  He waited. Not even in the shadows anymore. He was behind her, in the entrance of the walk-in closet. She’d located the sizable room at the back. It certainly seemed as if she was looking for something.

  She drifted her talented fingers across his unassembled lineup of metal creations. “What are you up to, Jameson?”

  “I’m sure you’d find it dreadfully boring.”

  She jumped and spun, a strangled scream ripping from her. He stepped inside and closed the door. Reaching behind him, he flicked the lock. This space could be secured coming or going. He’d made sure of it.

  Her gaze flicked from him to the door. She looked guilty as hell.

  Oh yes. He knew that look on a woman. “I don’t even have to ask.”

  “Jameson, it’s not like that. I just found this space—”

  “Shut up.”

  She snapped her mouth closed and wrung those hands that had caressed his weapons.

  “I no longer tolerate liars.” He advanced. She pressed into the counter. “I should’ve known. An intelligent woman gets through the mass of ignorant youth and spreads her legs whenever I want. Too good to be true?”

  She chewed her lower lip and gripped the counter behind her. “I’m not. I was just curious, I swear.”

  He closed the distance between them and towered over her. Feathering a finger down her face, he soaked up her tension. The mounting terror inside of her. “And just who would you swear to, Lindy Sampson?”

  A tremor wracked her body. Once upon a time, he wouldn’t have been swayed by such fear.

  Today, he drank it in. “They took my son.”

  Her eyes flared wide. “J-Julian?”

  Nodding slowly, he fisted his hand in her blond tresses and tightened until she winced and her head cranked to the side. He’d talked about his boy one night over dinner. His Lindy had offered to listen and he’d opened up to her. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

  A pained gasped squeezed out of her. “Jameson, I swear—”

  He yanked her face close to his. “Yes, you swear. You inked that pretty little tat on your tit and swore to me. So who do you swear to, Lindy? Who?”

  But she didn’t answer. It was hard to when his other hand was clamped over her throat.

  Chapter 20

  Coming to wasn’t fun. Only his training saved him from groaning and rolling over. As he took stock of his surroundings, he realized he would’ve rolled right off the bed.

  A delicious body was pressed to his other side, and look at that. Despite the lingering sting and pinching pain in his wings, he could still get achingly erect.

  The previous days—hours? How much time had passed?—rushed back to him.

  Synced. He was synced to a mate. The bond wasn’t complete, not until they came to together in body and not just spirit. But he had a mate. Not just any mate, but Felicia. A strong, proud female that he didn’t deserve, but the one he wanted.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  She knew he was awake. It could mean their bond was strong, but she’d probably been able to tell before.

  “Sore.” He couldn’t help himself. Draping a hand over her waist, he was about to tuck her into his body when she stiffened. “What’s wrong?”

  She scooted away from him and sat up on the other end of the bed. “We haven’t done more than hose off.”

  “That’s not it.”

  She looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes were luminous and so full of conflict that his damn heart broke. “How can we make this work?”

  “What do you mean?” After what they’d been through, how could they not?

  “We come from failed syncs. My wings.” Her gaze dropped. “This realm.”

  “A lot of couples split their time between realms. But… I think you can show your wings off with pride.”

  She glanced over her shoulder only to roll her eyes at him.

  “Seriously, Felicia. Show your wings.”

  Turning on the bed and propping one leg on it, she faced him. “Say I can get over the whole wing business. Forever is a long time.”

  “We know what our parents didn’t.” He rolled up on an elbow. “That we need to talk because we’re stronger together.”

  “I don’t want to live here.” Her lower lip trembled. “I can never fly.”

  Ah. That hadn’t occurred to him.

  She swiped at a tear. “But missing flying is superficial.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  She ignored him. “We were paired during your moment of need. That doesn’t make our future a sure thing.”

  Their parents again. If he could go back in time and talk to her mother—beg her not to walk into the fire—he’d do it. He sat up all the way. His shoulders were tight and he was surprised his wings didn’t creak every time he moved. This was only a fraction of what Felicia felt every day.

  “I was paired with you because the Almighty knows that I trust you. And I’d only accept you.”

  Instead of melting under his words, her brow creased. She was more dubious.

  “Is it my father?” he asked quietly.

  “Yours. Mine. They were a mess. Being matched didn’t mean anything other than you needed saving.”

  He maneuvered until he was right next to her. “I would’ve chosen you.”

  “You had three months to. Be realistic, Julian.”

  He put his hand over his heart. “Julian? This is serious.”

  She gave him a playful shove like this wasn’t the most serious subject he’d ever discussed. It was his future. His life. But it was hers too.

  “So we what, ignore the mark? Date other people to make sure we don’t pair better with another?”

  She glared at him.

  “Yeah. That’s how I feel.” He sighed and scrubbed his face. She was right. They hadn’t cleaned up and both he and the bed were gross. His own dried blood had flaked all over his pink sheets. He hated those sheets. Valerina had chosen them.

  How many years had he wasted with Valerina? What if he’d mated her right away? They hadn’t been naturally paired but at the time he’d been convinced they were perfect for each other. Good thing they’d waited.

  But not one cell in his body said Felicia wasn’t his. He’d be willing to bet she felt the same. Except for that brain of hers. The one he hadn’t given her credit for until recently.

  “Then we wait. We date.”

  A fine brow arched. “Date? While we’re being hunted and your father is still trying to rule over all of us in this realm.”

  “Yep. Or I can talk to P
ersephone.”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  “I didn’t tell you that she spread the rumor about us.”

  Felicia shrugged like he’d just said it had rained last night. “If it wasn’t her, it would’ve been someone else.”

  Which brought them back to the realm thing and he didn’t want her to explore another reason she didn’t think they owned each other.

  He didn’t pressure her. If she slept with him to complete the sync, he wanted it to be because she was sure of them.

  “I guess we could date,” she said.

  “Our first one can be in the shower.”

  She grinned like she thought he was joking, but when she saw how serious he was, the smile faded. Her lips parted. “The shower?”

  “No penetration. Scout’s honor.” He lowered his voice. “But I need to be with you.”

  She waited a few tense seconds before saying, “I’ll give you a ten-minute head start.”

  * * *

  This was the weirdest, most erotic date she’d ever been on.

  Jagger refused to move fast. He’d washed off and was painstakingly wiping her down. She was hot, her breasts heavy, and need surfed through her blood.

  “Jagger.” The whine in her voice was shameful. But he had yet to touch her with more than the cloth or anywhere close to a certain bundle of nerves. “I know what you’re doing.”

  He only laughed, a deep vibration that would curl through her if he got close enough. Instead, he squatted down to stroke down her legs.

  As for what he was doing, he was trying to get closer to her. She couldn’t speed up this process. Her mind rebelled at the thought. He’d been a giant dick to her because of his parents, and not just his father. She’d been emotionally closed off because of hers. It wasn’t an issue they could fuck their way out of.