Kyria stared at Val with a mix of confusion and hurt, looking like she might be sick. He wanted to hold her hand, and he didn’t like that. He needed more blood. That was all. The hunger messed with his head.
One firm nod, then the older woman reached for Kyria. “Like your dad. We’re not cowards, Kyria, but we made mistakes. Since then, we’ve always tried to right the wrong we did. Warriors on a new battlefront. The Mother uses it all for good.”
Ramiel snorted.
“I don’t understand.” Kyria moved around the rocking chair and sat on the porch swing.
“Now. Now is the time,” Bishop yelled, drawing their attention. Chin turned to the sky, he opened his long duster. “We will dance.”
Valiel followed her but stopped short and turned back to Bishop, dancing at the opposite end of the boards. “Why is this crazy here? Where’s your dad?”
Blinking, Kyria bit her lip and moved closer to him. He couldn’t fathom why. Scared? No. Is she worried about me?
He shrugged at Val. “She was being hunted by demons, and her wings emerged, but she doesn’t know how to use them, so, I delivered her here.” He scanned the area again. “I’m more than happy to leave now.”
Valiel’s eyes went wide. “You have wings?” Val moved toward Kyria. “I told your father he needed to tell you, but he said he had ten more years.” She switched her glare onto Ramiel but didn’t move any closer. “What happened to your wings, archangel?”
“They were taken from him. That’s why he has the chains. But he’s gotten me this far without them. I’m not sure what all the hostility is for.”
Bishop stopped talking to the post and gawked like they were the crazy ones. “No…we’re wasting time here.” He shook a finger at Kyria. “You need to be prepared. The arrogant prick needs you. You need the arrogant prick. Once he’s learned his lesson.” Then he crossed his arms and stood next to Val, who look irritated.
Hands back on her hips, she lifted her chin. Fire of heaven’s righteousness took over. If she had a gun, he and Bishop would be full of bullet holes by now.
“The reason I’m so hostile is ’cause you brought this to my ranch.” Val walked to the edge of the porch. “Bishop needs to leave. He can’t stay without an invite, and I didn’t give him one.”
“Sorry, but the chosen and her fated one override the rules.”
Val rubbed her temples. “He is out of his ever-lovin’ mind.”
“Doesn’t matter right now.” He hopped down the steps and walked to a tree. After introducing himself, he pressed his ear against the rough bark.
“He’s dangerous. Last time I met him, I was searching for a lost Nephilim and ran into him at a gas station. He tried lighting a row of eighteen wheelers on fire.”
Bishop raised a finger. “In my defense, those trucks were going to be bought and used to smuggle bad candy over the border. In the name of healthy gums and cavity prevention, I had to do something.”
Val shook her head. “I know he’s useful with all that power and occasional foresight, but he’s unpredictable, Kyria. I swore to myself I wouldn’t deal with powerful men who use their abilities thoughtlessly. Not anymore.” Val turned away and headed toward the house. Bishop followed.
“He’s right about one thing. We’re wasting time here,” Ramiel said, haunted by the fact that only four full days remained of his freedom.
Kyria locked her arm around his as if to stop him from disappearing again. The anchor of her warmth tempted him to believe she could actually do it.
He pulled away. “I gotta check on something.”
Determined to hightail it before he trapped himself here with good people he didn’t belong with, he rushed back to the truck. The engine had stopped running. Not a good sign.
He checked the wires, still twisted together. Should’ve stripped them apart. On his sixth attempt to hotwire the vehicle again, he stopped. The ignition system was all burned up.
“Dammit.” He wasn’t going anywhere. Trapped. Chained. Beaten. Broken. Needles pricked his back.
“Ramiel?”
The world changed around him. The gravel road leading to the gate and the Hill Country landscape wavered, turning into the narrow road of her small town. Dark shadows and abandoned shops barricaded him in another prophetic vision.
On her knees in the middle of the street, Kyria held a child in her arms, a red-haired boy covered in blood that pooled around her as she yelled for help. Crying. Calling for him. His name on her swollen and bruised lips.
He fought to reach her, but his chains held him in place, locked to the ground. A blond, heavy with child, stumbled to help Kyria and the dead boy, but gut-wrenching anger flooded him as looming demonic figures swept down and sliced both helpless women. They didn’t have a chance.
“No.” He swung his arm.
“Ramiel?” The scene darkened on the edges. Kyria’s voice cut through the vision, shattering it into the corners of his mind. “Ram, what’s wrong?” Her voice lowered as she leaned into him. Her breath brushed his skin, and her scent filled his lungs.
He blinked a couple of times. Kyria supported his weight, concern stamped on her pretty face. Everyone else stood frozen where they’d been before the vision started. As bitter as it tasted, he had witnessed the truth. If he left, she would die.
An involuntary rumble vibrated in his chest. Kyria, mistaking it for a warning, pulled away. Guilt washed over him. He didn’t reach out for her even though everything in him wanted to do exactly that.
The female angel paused at the threshold with the screen door open. Clear suspicion directed his way as she spoke to Kyria. “Sweetheart, you have to understand, your father thought he was protecting you. I warned him. I told him you needed to know, but he’s a stubborn man. I gave you those stories hoping to prepare you for what was coming. Darius wanted to wait until you were thirty-two, but I feared you would turn sooner because you’re marked.”
“It’s just a lot to take in. He’s really my father, right?”
“Yes. That wasn’t a lie.”
“Is the whole town full of angels and demons? Eli. God, Eli warned me. The demon that attacked me mentioned Peru. There is no cartel, is there?” She groaned and cupped her face in obvious mortification. “What do you mean marked?”
There came a very long and drawn out pause that Ramiel deeply regretted being a part of. He was almost relieved when Bishop broke it with a long, quiet whistle.
Distaste seeped into Val’s expression when she spun to narrow her eyes on Bishop, who had left her side and gone back to measure Kyria’s shoulders. “There’s a bigger storm coming, Valiel,” the madman said. “Show her your sweet little jelly beans. The ones you never show anyone.” He cupped Kyria’s face.
Ram wanted to rip off the bastard’s hands.
Val’s face lost all color as the angel continued. “She’s been collecting the magic beans, protecting them. But more are missing. They need you both. It’s time.” He turned to Valiel. “You have little reason to trust me, but you have my word, on the Mother, I’ll be on my best behavior. You’ve done a good job on your own all this time, but there’s more to do now, and you need all the help you can get.”
Light reflected off moisture that appeared on her bottom lashes. She swiped at her face, rubbed her neck, then nodded. “Dammit. I hate it, but you’re right.” She studied each of them before zeroing in on Kyria. “I need to show you something. But first…food and showers. Bishop, Ramiel. Y’all are welcome to leave.”
A dramatic rattle of his chains clarified his decision on that as he crossed his arms and stared until she backed down. He wasn’t going anywhere for now.
“Fine, then.” She turned on a booted heel and headed inside.
Kyria hesitated. Ramiel nudged her along with him. Brushing his body against hers, touching her in the most innocent way, eased him somehow when physical contact with anyone else made his skin crawl.
Whatever magical influence she had over him, it washed away any roug
h anxiety that demon attacks and a tight motel space had given him. Being alone with her in the middle of potential danger had messed with his libido, driving him wild with obsessive appetites.
Now he had space on protected land, and other people that would keep an eye on her. He could quietly enjoy her sweet allure in a place where they were safe.
Bishop cackled and dashed to follow the group. Val didn’t look happy. She probably didn’t have the juice to kick him off her ranch. None of them did. Not even Ramiel when he had wings, back in the day.
He tried to get rid of the man once. Ended up involuntarily flashing himself to a horse stable in France that hadn’t been mucked out yet. Val was right about one thing—it was dangerous to have that much power mixed with that much crazy. “Gotta burn them guinea pigs.” Bishop’s leather duster flapped in the wind.
And on cue, crazy hit the fan.
“The Navy’s gonna burn them. Burn them all. Soot and ash, they shall become.” Bishop put his hand on Kyria’s mass of red hair. “Free. Free.”
Another stream of ominous words coming from the rat keeper.
There was something more going on than just an angel gone missing. They needed to get to the bottom of it. And he only had four days left to do it.
Chapter Sixteen
The sun hung low on the horizon when they set out across the ranch. Kyria tugged her hair over her shoulder and weaved the curls into a tight braid as Val drove them through the pastures.
Hips pressed against the roll-bar and his fists in the air, Bishop stood on the back seat. “Join me Ramiel. It’s like flying. Do you miss flying?”
Ram sat in the front, a grim expression on his face as he ignored the lunatic.
The opened Jeep bumped along dirt roads and wove through dry brush, quickly passing the old abandoned hangar. It had always evoked the idea of a World War II movie set.
The gravel road soon became a dirt road. And from dirt, it faded into a subtle path through the tall grass. The landscape rippled unnaturally for a moment, like passing through a sheet of water, then cleared again.
Through a break of giant oak trees, Kyria gaped at a cement wall about fifteen feet tall, with a black metal gate, curved around a long hillside cliff face. Her mouth fell open.
Over the years, she’d ridden every inch of Val’s property, including this path. But this fortress had never been here before.
“Val. What the heck?”
“Behind the line of trees and surrounding the natural rocks of the hill, there’s a magic barrier around this building. Rune circles and certain ingredients keep it from detection. Unless I want you to see.” Val switched to the low beams. “It even pushes wanderers away without them ever realizing it. That’s why you never noticed.”
Val reached beneath her steering wheel, and the gate opened. She drove forward, following the hard-packed caliche road until they came into a wide courtyard with a few picnic tables and…a playground.
Behind the colorful landscape sat a large structure built into the side of a hill, four stories high, with several windows shaped like a chapel at the top. The bunker palace gave her pause. “Come on.” Val’s voice softened as she parked the Jeep, cut the engine, and climbed out, heading toward the iron double doors. Kyria and the others followed.
If she stepped through those doors, she’d be crossing a permanent threshold. She could deny everything now and make a run for it like her father taught her. But having a looming, scarred figure like Ram hovering behind her somehow gave her a bit more confidence to continue.
Pausing, Val pressed her hands flat against the iron. “I’m trusting you with something very precious to me.” Her eyes cut to Ram. “Your honor was said to be the greatest among the archangels. Even if you’re fallen, I’m counting on that honor now.” She waited.
The usual crease between his brows furrowed with confusion rather than irritation. His gaze crawled up the height of the hillside bunker. “I’d never hurt an innocent.”
Val nodded and whispered something incoherent as she leaned against the iron. Otherworldly symbols came to life with a blue luminescence, Enochian runes scrawling across the metal surface as if written by some unseen hand. A heavy thud rang out.
The doorway opened.
Her lips parted in awe as she followed the woman inside. Questions bounced around in her head, but they could wait.
The bright orange glow of the sunset shone through the windows high above them and mingled with artificial lighting. The first floor widened out into an unusually large foyer with potted plants, different lounge areas, and a staircase leading up.
In one corner, several little faces rose over the edge of the largest couch to stare. Children?
A woman Kyria recognized as the foreman’s wife came down the stairs and moved toward them, drying her hands on a towel looped through her leather belt.
“Miss Val, we weren’t expecting you today. We were about to serve supper.” Eyes wide, she summed them all up with quick scrutiny. “Is something wrong?”
With a shake of her head, Val patted the woman’s arm. “Long story, but everything’s okay. It was time Kyria knew.”
Curious and concerned faces stared at her from behind the couch. Her heart fluttered. So many new things to take in, and she didn’t know what to do first. Children. Val had sheltered children underground on the ranch.
Laughter and young voices echoed down the stairs at the far end of the room. There sat about ten young ones of various age, size, and color, their wide eyes glued to three strangers.
Well, mostly just the other two. Ramiel stood out as a tough wall of scars, piercings, and chains. Then Bishop, well, he was just ridiculous inside and out.
Val raised her hand. “Kids, there’s no reason to be nervous. These are my friends. Ramiel, Kyria, and Bishop.”
Bishop inched toward the huddle of children. He dropped to his knees about three feet away. “I thought you’d all be bigger by now. Am I too early?” He lifted an arm as if to reach out, then lowered it.
“That’s enough, Bishop.” Val spoke to him more calmly than she had since they first arrived.
Bishop leaned to the side and wiggled his fingers at her. Ramiel’s glare deepened. Not the usual dark scowl, but a mixed expression of anger, bewilderment, and panic.
She followed his line of sight to three teenagers mumbling to each other in the corner. Redheaded and tall—siblings, probably. Did they remind him of his own family?
Val gestured to the foreman’s wife. “Why don’t you kids head upstairs with Mary? I’m sure supper’s almost ready.” All it took from Val was gentle words and a wink, and the group relaxed. Mary clapped and guided them up the stairs.
Ram crossed his arms, causing the chain to rattle. “They’re all Nephilim.”
Kyria faced Val. “Are they really?”
Val nodded. “Young ones like them, orphaned or abandoned, are constantly disappearing. Lately, more than usual.” She glanced at Bishop. “Something’s going on, and it’s not good.”
Ramiel stiffened beside Kyria so she shifted just enough that they touched. He didn’t pull away.
Bishop stood. “They’re way too small to make a difference right now.” He glanced at Val. “But we do have the star. Is he here yet?”
With a deep sigh, Val lowered her chin. “You know I don’t understand a thing you say.”
Ramiel spoke. “What do you know, Bishop?”
He pointed at Kyria. “I know her mother started it.”
Stricken speechless, she opened her mouth, but nothing emerged.
He wandered off before she could think of anything to say, muttering to himself as dirty fingers traced the sunflowers painted on the wall.
She wasn’t even going to ask him about her mother. Pivoting, she focused on Val. “Did my dad know about the kids?”
“He never saw them himself, but yes. It’s why he brought you here. The old salt caves on the property create a natural barrier from demons. I warned him that your powers were
developing faster than normal. But I never imagined they’d come this soon.”
Her mouth went dry. Everything the wings represented unsettled her. “Ramiel says I’ll have to start using people to drink blood or die.”
Scoffing, Val rolled her eyes. “Typical archangel, all biblical gloom and doom. It can be an intimate bonding experience with the right person. We can also make it easy and clinical. I store blood bags like a hospital. In an emergency, I might have to get it fresh, but it’s so much nicer to warm it in the microwave and just pour it into a glass.” Val pulled Kyria into an embrace. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll help you through all that. It’s not as bad as it sounds.”
The motherly love surrounded Kyria as she melted into the hug. The back of her eyes ached from holding back tears. Little pockets of time like this occurred within the past three days where everything sank in at once, like being pulled into quicksand, momentarily suffocated by the truth of her real world.
“I’ll be fine. I can’t let it get to me.”
She pulled away first, but Val took her hand to lead her toward the stairs. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet. Ramiel, could you keep an eye on Bishop?”
Looking back, she caught her archangel’s steady glare. Muscles tense like he might follow, he took one step forward then stopped.
“I’ll be fine, Ram. I promise.”
“You sure?”
Nodding, she allowed Val to pull her up the stairs, unable to look away from her angel’s intensity. Neither did he, a phantom chain tethering their gazes. The landing of the second floor separated them. She hesitated at the next step, then one deep breath, and he was out of her sight.
The fourth floor had doors along all four walls, bright blocks of color each tagged with a child’s name.
The center opened to the floor below. Kyria walked to the edge of the railing and glanced at the small library and playroom below. They stopped at a door that read David in bright blue.
Val led the way inside. Only a small lamp on a short writing desk shone at the end of the room. Two bunk beds pressed against the walls, comic books spilling out beneath one of them.
Unchained Desire Page 9
