“I’ll help you track down Stede and then you can take me in.”
Everyone went quiet, considering her proposal. Stede was in the wind. Neither the male or female that had been with Stede was talking other than to say it was all Stede’s fault and he was forcing them. They refused to say how.
The only dirt Bryant had found was that they were having an affair with each other, but neither one was officially synced to their current partners, though that didn’t make the affair right. It only proved that Stede could find the weaknesses in others and exploit them. How had he found them when he’d been in the human realm the majority of the time?
What did he have on Sierra?
“How can we trust a damn thing you say?” Bryant asked.
“You can’t. I deserve my punishment, but before I lose my wings, I need to make sure Stede loses his head.” The warrior in Sierra was visible. Her violet eyes glittered with menace and her hands were now curled into fists.
“We need to deal with Stede,” Jagger said quietly. “And I’m not only saying that to delay going after my father. None of this will make a difference if we don’t get Stede. He has some connection in Numen that we don’t know about.”
Bryant gave Sierra a hard stare. He broke it only to glance at Dionna.
“What did Stede know about you?” Dionna asked. It was like she needed to know how badly Sierra’s back was against the wall before she agreed to work with her again. “What are you hiding?”
Sierra lifted her chin. “The circumstances of my birth are…shameful. And I have—I have a sibling who knows nothing about it, or about me. Stede threatened to use me against her, and that’s all you’re going to get.”
“Stede knows but we can’t?” Bryant’s perplexed expression matched how they all felt.
“I prefer my secret die with him.”
“How did he find out?” Bryant asked.
“I’ve come to the conclusion that he must know my father. My real father.”
Infidelity seemed to be an epidemic in Numen. Felicia stole a glance at Jagger. She slid her gaze over his slicked-back platinum hair, down his strong jaw line, and to his eyes. It was clear he was fighting his sympathy for Sierra. Her resistance to completing their sync wasn’t about whether or not she trusted him.
“Is your father a concern in this case?” Bryant regarded Sierra warily.
Her gaze dropped. “I don’t even know who he is. I only know he’s not good.”
Felicia could readily interpret that confession. Sierra’s mother had been forced. And she’d hidden it, like everyone else did in the realm. Another tragedy, and Sierra was going to pay for it.
Fury roiled under Felicia’s skin. There had to be a way to change this thought process, this “we don’t talk about the bad stuff” mentality.
There had to be a way, and maybe, just maybe it started with her.
She spoke, risking the others’ irritation. “I say we let her help, and then we speak for her during her trial.”
Urban shook his head. “Her actions caused serious injuries.”
Harlowe had been quiet the whole time, but she said, “I agree with Felicia. She should’ve been able to trust us enough to come to us.”
Sierra was shaking her head as she rose. “No. I will help you hunt down Stede, and then I will pay for my crimes. There will be no talk, no revelation, no argument. My history stays secret.”
“Why is it so important?” Harlowe snapped. “We’re trying to help you.”
All the fight drained out of Sierra as she gazed at Harlowe. “I’ll only be losing my wings. I guess one thing Jameson has taught us is that there is life after falling. Once I recover, I can still use it for good.” Her eyes misted over as a tremble shook her strong body.
Bronx cut a hand through his hair. “This sucks. This all just sucks.”
Bryant considered Sierra. Then he pivoted to look at all of them. Felicia wanted to sidle closer to Jagger, to comfort him, but this wasn’t the time.
“We hunt down Stede as a team,” Bryant declared, “and then we support Sierra’s fall as a team. And if the senate thinks we’ll all fucking forget this one, they can stuff it.”
The subject was too serious for Felicia to smile at Bryant’s bold statement. Despite how tragic this law was, she was sure of one thing: things were going to change in Numen, and she was going to be part of the process.
Chapter 22
“You think he’s doing what?” Jagger had heard Sierra clearly the first time. But her statement was insane. And if true, appalling that it had gone unnoticed. “How do you know this?”
“He’s stockpiling angel fire,” Sierra said as if that weren’t terrifying. “I checked our database and there was a missing order of vials.”
He was standing next to Felicia in Sierra’s spare room—her office. Two large screens loomed over her. She glowed under the light, her eyes intent. Focused. She was going to make Stede pay. Jagger only wished she had come to them earlier.
Bryant pinched the bridge of his nose. “Those bloody missing vials. I thought it was some noob clerk.”
The fountain didn’t have protection. Angels were free to walk into the fire, and warriors refilled their stock when needed. Everyone else wanted to keep their distance.
Sierra didn’t spare them a glance. “Nope. That clerk was the angel the female was seeing, the one who helped imprison Jagger.”
“What’s he planning?” Felicia asked. All of the others but Harlowe had left on Bryant’s command. He wanted them out and mobilized. “Besides an attack, obviously.”
Jagger wouldn’t admit what a relief it was to switch the focus away from hunting his father. He doubted Jameson knew of this new development with Stede. If he did know, what would he do about it?
Sierra didn’t take her eyes off her laptop. “The fire. Fallen blood. He can take control of any place in Numen. Ping ’em with the blood. Hit ’em with angel fire. He could mow down a sizable population fairly quickly. Use panic to his advantage and no one would know where it was coming from.” Her fingers flew over the keys.
“Where’s the stash?” Harlowe peered at the screens. Who were they going to get to replace Sierra?
He couldn’t help but think of Father around her. The two were completely different. Father hurt others irreverently.
This time Sierra spun around from her computers. “I had been working under the assumption that he moved it all to the earthly realm. Felicia said Stede’s home was barren, like he’d recently cleaned much of his stuff out. Or that’s what he wanted us to think if we ever caught on. But having his stash of angel fire in this realm wouldn’t do him any good. He doesn’t understand security, or why would he blackmail me to do his dirty work?”
“But where would he store it in Numen?” Jagger didn’t want to get impatient. He could see Sierra’s line of reasoning, but she needed to get to the point.
“If I knew, I’d tell you,” she snapped.
“Would you?” Felicia countered and Sierra winced.
“I want Stede worse than the rest of you. Don’t doubt that.” She swiveled back to her computer.
They all fell quiet and let Sierra do her thing. When Sierra slumped in her chair with a “huh,” they all stared.
Her gaze was glued to the screen. “That’s weird. I’m running through all the watchers’ notes trying to link anyone to Stede.”
“Smart,” Bryant replied. “Odessa said they’re never deleted, but they’re not official records that make it into the archives.”
“Well, there’s mention of a Stede dying on Earth in a revolution. Decapitation.” She grimaced. “A female. Nora Stede. The watcher made a side note of informing the husband and child.”
“Stede has a kid?”
Sierra frowned, her fingers a flurry of clicks over the keyboard. “There is no other Stede in the realm, believe me. I’ve checked. Lemme look at this Nora.” A few minutes dragged by. Felicia didn’t think any of them dared to breathe. “Hoven. Her birt
h name was Hoven before she mated Stede.”
The name was sort of familiar.
“Hoven?” Bryant barked. “Like Tenley Hoven? My new fucking assistant?”
* * *
“What the hell is going on now?” Jameson strode into his place. Fucking Stede was reclining on the couch. “Who let you in?”
He hadn’t tasked Andy with the undesirable chore of disposing of Ms. Lindy Sampson. What was the man so preoccupied with that he’d let Stede sneak in?
“Disappointed that Lindy is no longer around to feed you information?”
Stede’s brow furrowed. “Who?”
He seemed genuinely confused. But Lindy had—what? Asked about his son and then wandered into his closet. Not exactly insider information.
Had he acted rashly? No, of course not. He’d had reason. She’d been playing him. He knew it. She had to have been playing him.
That didn’t stop doubt filtering through his mind.
Stede crossed his legs. He was dressed like he usually was as an enforcer, dark pants and a dark shirt. Official in Numen. Sinister in his living area. And his wings were hanging out, as if he was taunting Jameson with them. They were a murky gray, like the shade Lindy had turned after death.
“Know why I agreed to work with you in the first place?”
Jameson should’ve killed Stede when he fled with Kenton. There’d been no reason to keep either one around after that and they’d only brought trouble to his doorstep since then. “Enlighten me.”
“I knew you were different. Something about you was different.”
“Maybe because I didn’t deserve to fall.”
“You’ve earned it since.”
Touché. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m tired of messing around. Your son was less than cooperative, so now I’m here.”
Rage boiled in his blood, but he adopted a snide smile. “I take it my boy got away from you. I’d like to say I’m surprised.”
Stede’s expression didn’t crack like he’d expected it to. The male was up to something. “Your blood is more desirable anyway.”
Jameson snorted. “And what? You think you can march in here and take me on? If you were so confident, you would’ve done it months ago.”
Stede uncrossed his legs but didn’t move to rise. “I was letting you do all the heavy lifting. I knew eventually you’d find out that you were different and learn how to use it to your advantage.”
Stede’s calm demeanor set off all kinds of alarms. Awareness prickled along his skin. Something was wrong.
“And you didn’t disappoint.” Stede shot him an ironic glare. “You also didn’t share your knowledge. That’s the problem with all you senators. Your arrogance is your crutch.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous.” What was Stede up to? Jameson tallied all the weapons within reach. The room hidden in his closet he’d busted Lindy in was all locked up, but he had a regular old gun in his end-table drawer. The one Stede was sitting by.
Angels didn’t carry guns. Stede would only have a knife or two. But Stede could heal much faster than him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t that special. He’d lost his rapid healing abilities with his wings.
“Jealous? Perhaps at one time. I’ve since learned that there’s only one way to fix our senate. Total destruction.”
Once upon a time, their ambition had included taking over the senate and ruling via brute force. Jameson had only planned on killing the really avid opponents. Stede’s bright idea sounded a lot like mass murder.
He wasn’t on board with that plan.
And there was his true weakness. His conscience. He still cared about his son and he gave a damn about the amount of death he doled out. Some of those senators didn’t deserve to die. He’d even argue his ex-mate’s right to live, depending on his mood. And he was becoming more and more guilt laden about Lindy’s death.
Stede was watching him, his fingers tapping on the arm of his chair. Jameson had another gun in his shoe drawer. To distract Stede, he snapped an arm straight and fiddled with the cuff as he spun toward his closet. “How do you plan to run the realm when you’ve destroyed its ruling body?”
Movement caught his eye. Something heavy, swinging toward his head. He wasn’t fast enough. The object smashed into his temple. He reeled and toppled, his world going dark.
Who else was in his apartment? The last thing he heard was, “That’s for me and my daughter to worry about.”
Chapter 23
“Do you think they would’ve hidden all the vials here?” Felicia shrugged her shoulders. Her wings were morphed. She planned to keep training and strengthening them, but during a fight, they were still a liability.
“It’s only obvious if you know Tenley is Stede’s daughter,” Jagger murmured. “But they’ve been planning this for decades, waiting. She made herself forgettable. And no one liked Stede enough to get close to him.”
Half the team was with Sierra—to make sure she didn’t run. They couldn’t turn Sierra in yet. If they ran into a dead end at Tenley’s place, they’d need her skills.
Tenley’s home was small. Quaint. A cute little brick cottage in an unremarkable part of the realm. Many of her neighbors were in charge of Numen’s upkeep. The realm’s curb appeal was due to the angels that lived here, those who didn’t fit into the ranks of governing, record keeping, or protection. Some were archivists like Tenley. Others cleaned the archives. The biggest difference in living arrangements, other than size, was that the houses were built with brick instead of marble.
A perfect place for a viper to lay low and appear as docile as a garter snake.
As much as she was grateful to be going after the real and most immediate threat to the realm, it didn’t erase the fact that Jameson was next. That it’d be hard for Jagger to deal with losing his dad for good.
Her heart swelled with emotion even as she swept along the quiet lot, prepared to do whatever it took to stop Tenley. She would be there for Jagger. Always. If they were lucky, life would be long. Why not enjoy every moment possible with him?
Would Father have let Mother go if he’d known how it would end? Would Chanel have given up on—okay, that wasn’t the best example. Chanel might’ve ditched Jameson and never looked back if she’d had an inkling he’d hurt her so.
But Jagger wasn’t his father. That was obvious.
She glanced at his stark profile. The sun was setting. Same time every day. Jagger’s gaze was focused. His expression grim.
He caught her eye. “Ready?” he mouthed.
Her nod answered his question, but also her own. She was ready.
They darted over the lawn. Her and Jagger in back. Bryant and Harlowe in front. This wouldn’t be like the Vegas debacle all over again.
Waiting felt like the eternity it was, second by second ticking by as they looked, listened, and felt for anyone inside. Her and Jagger’s job was to make sure no one escaped out the back while the others cleared the interior of the place.
Nothing.
The back door clicked and was pushed open. Harlowe scanned the property as if anyone would be lurking after she and Jagger had hung out here. But Felicia wasn’t offended. Not when her own personal boogeyman could be lurking nearby.
Jagger gestured for her to go inside first. She eased around him.
The place was quiet. Neat and tidy, but with very little personality. That wasn’t unusual in a realm not known for its knickknacks or clutter, but somehow this seemed more sinister.
The kitchen was to the left. Harlowe started opening cupboards and drawers. “Jagger, take watch. Felicia and I can search the place.”
She made quick work of the main area. As she entered the bedroom, it was like all sound had been wiped out. Frowning, she turned in a circle.
Sensing Harlowe at the door, she said, “This room seem small?”
Harlowe treaded inside and did the same move. “Super small.” She brushed her hand along the wall by the door. “Dammit.
Even the interior walls are made of brick.”
In the fading light, it was hard to inspect the interior, but one wall appeared darker than the others. Felicia ran her hand along the wall Harlowe had just touched, then down the interior wall. “It feels different. Soft.”
Jagger stepped next to her and pressed his fingers to the surface. “Spongy. A faux finish.”
Harlowe snickered. “I can’t tell if that’s genius or lazy.”
They all poked and prodded. There was give under Felicia’s palm and a panel clicked open. She looked at Harlowe, her eyes wide, her body tense. “Should I open it the rest of the way?”
Harlowe glanced at the opening and nodded. “Carefully.”
She held her breath as she tugged it toward her. Nothing but darkness greeted her. She poked her head inside, found a cheap light she recognized from TV. The thing stuck to a surface and, once touched, flickered on. She tapped it. The area brightened more than expected as the lamp’s rays bounced off of row after row of crystal.
“Oh! Oh no.” She stepped back so Harlowe could see.
The warrior peered in, her eyes going wide. “That’s a lot of angel fire.”
The crystal vials were stacked floor to ceiling, but these weren’t the one-ounce containers that warriors typically carried. Those were here too. But so were crystal flasks that had to hold as much as twenty ounces. Enough to line the ten-foot-long wall that spanned the length of the bedroom. Instead of a closet, they’d just built an extra wall.
“This took a while to collect. Filling that large of a bottle would attract attention even for a warrior.” Harlowe eased inside and withdrew her phone. She photographed the display. Then she ran a finger down the bigger containers. “These are thinner. More fragile and easily shattered.” She shuddered like she was trying to shake off the thought of a Molotov cocktail made with angel fire. “Be right back. The director isn’t going to like this, but at least we found it.”
Harlowe disappeared and it was only minutes later that Jagger appeared.
He let out a low whistle when he looked in the closet. “Bryant went to wake up a few senators and make a report. Harlowe’s recruiting another team of warriors to clean this up. You and I are on guard.”
Wicked Fire: Angel Fire, book 2 Page 22
