Unchained Desire

by R. C. Alvarez

  Before she said anything, Bishop flashed in, and she jumped. He laughed. “This is gonna be fun.”

  Val and Eli walked in through the back door.

  From the archway, Eli moved to sit at the large pine table in a casual pose with his legs stretched out in front of him. He sent her a cheeky wink. Back to his old self.

  Going to the freezer, she pulled out a container full of cookie dough they prepared last week. A whole lifetime ago.

  Cookies weren’t the most nutritional option for dinner, but she needed to keep her hands busy.

  Bishop mumbled as he sat on a wooden stool on the end counter. His chin rested in a baseball mitt he had on his left hand, and he tracked every move being made.

  Despite all the pandemonium this week, this gathering of old and new friends felt like family coming together around the table. The only thing missing is Dad.

  “Eli?” She turned to face him, ignoring the low rumbles coming from Ram.

  “Yeah?”

  “Where’s my dad?”

  Eli sat up, the happy expression was gone. “Why are you asking me? Once he left here, I don’t know what happened.”

  “You’re connected to Peru. Where my dad was poisoned with a blood curse.” She lifted the notebook out of the box and dropped it on the table. “You told my dad about Ram. And now you don’t know anything?” Scooping out the cookie dough kept her hands from shaking.

  Bishop nodded. “Time to choose. Can’t live in both worlds for much longer, young prince. Free will. It keeps me in the dark.” He sized Ram up. “What did you see in your vision?”

  He shook his head. “Just a lot of death and chaos.”

  Bishop removed the glove and studied his nails. “Did we strike out?”

  Eli lowered his head for a second, running a hand through his sandy hair. “Look. I was going to explain when I found you in Houston.” He stood and took a step toward her, but Ram shifted to stand between them.

  Eli sat back down. “Yeah, my father’s the demon lord that rules over all the corruption and sin in South America. I think he’s been building a stronger army to invade the North American territory that Nema rules. Right now, there’s a very thin truce between them, but his attack is inevitable. He thinks he can beat her that way. My guess? She’s looking for more fallen like Ram to create her own army. If she caught one archangel, she thinks she can enslave another. It’s why her goons have been more active lately.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Ramiel grow taut, all hard lines and tense shoulders.

  He nodded at Ram. “I met you while I was trying to gather information for my father. So, yes, I take his calls and fly down to Peru, but it’s only to figure out exactly why, after all these decades, he’s finally planning to make a move for some land grab. He could’ve done it years ago.”

  She brushed her fingers over the pendant of her mother’s necklace and sighed. “All right. I believe you. So, what do we do now?”

  “I say we get rid of him.” Ram gestured to Eli. “He’s been a pain in my ass for a while.”

  Eli smirked. “He loves me.” That smile quickly faded. “But he did knock me out. I think he wants our Kyria all to himself. He seems to have developed a fondness for sweets.”

  Black eyes burned with irritation.

  “Don’t let him fool you. He’s not always this sweet.” Eli walked up to Kyria and stole some of the raw dough with a swipe of his finger as she placed the second batch of them on a metal sheet. Smile still in place, he continued to taunt the archangel. “He likes to go out, get drunk, get…” He eyed Val. “Well, he makes new friends, sucks some blood, and sometimes I find a place for him to crash. Rinse and repeat.”

  Heat rushed up her neck and into her face. The woman at the bar Ramiel disappeared with the first time they met danced through her memory. She’d already seen how he prioritized alcohol.

  What was so wrong with her, then, that he freaked whenever she touched him? Because she was inexperienced?

  No, it was different.

  He was more complicated than Eli made him out to be. He worried about accidentally hurting hedgehogs, and young Nephilim being too vulnerable. Betrayal haunted him, demons tortured him. He saved a woman he just met despite all that.

  She pinned Eli with a hard look, bold protectiveness swelling within her again. “I don’t care what he does with other women. He’s with me now. And he’s been nothing but considerate. With nothing to gain from it. That makes him a hero in my book.”

  He laughed. “Careful, little sis, a bit of kindness might actually kill him.”

  She couldn’t imagine them hanging out together. They were complete opposites. But then again, it had become difficult to tell the good guys from the bad ones lately. How much of Eli’s charm was a lie? She peeked at Ram from under her lashes.

  “I don’t sleep with them,” he blurted out.

  So eloquent… Yet his awkwardly blunt mannerisms didn’t lack their own charm. He didn’t waste time with lies, and that attracted her most. Not just his amazing abs…

  The timer for the first batch of cookies went off, and she slid the sheet out of the oven. “That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is finding my dad. Bishop, you said we needed to be here.” She took out the cookies and set them aside before turning off the oven.

  “I’ve gotta get my big marbles back in the game.” Bishop traced something only he could see on the table. “Not sure about the little one. Might be too small.”

  “Bishop, you are not using those Nephilim for any of your games. I’m not training warriors. They’re just children.” Val crossed her arms, dark wild hair threatening to spill from her braid.

  Bishop stood, his expression tight. “This isn’t about Darius, then. You just…keep asking the wrong questions.” He threw his hands in the air. “I’m out.”

  A flash of light shimmered over his body. When it flickered out, the stool was empty.

  Kyria picked up her father’s notebook. “Are we doing the wrong thing? If he knows things, like you keep saying, why doesn’t he just tell us what we need to do?”

  A deep sigh drew her attention back to Val. “He lost touch with reality a long time ago. Let’s just focus on the problem in front of us. Try to recall everything that happened the moment you left, Kyria. Anything your father might have said that might give us a clue.”

  Kyria nodded. “When we got in the motel room, he mentioned the bar then collapsed. I left on my own to go find Ram. Dad had said he could help. So, I thought he was our contact with the Feds.” Back when she believed all the lies.

  “How do we know what’s making him sick is a blood curse?” Eli shared a glance with Val, but Ramiel grunted in a negative tone.

  “This.” Kyria slid the book across the table closer to Eli. He flipped through it.

  He stopped on a certain page and eased into a chair next to Val to read. “I get it. He says here that if he lost his soul, they’d find you. He wouldn’t be able to stop them from getting that information out of him once they owned him.” He looked up. “I told him about Ramiel only once, trying to cover my own ass about being gone so much.”

  A dry lump stuck in her throat. “We didn’t make it in time.”

  Eli continued, turning a page. “I can’t believe he lasted this long. I remember watching them inject some of my father’s prisoners with the curse. It takes away free will, and they…shrivel up. Like a raisin in the sun.”

  Kyria sometimes found his easy-going and flippant attitude frustrating. He never took anything seriously. But now she missed it dearly.

  “So, we gotta find him. Bring him home. And break the curse. No biggie.” His personality switched like a light, snapping the journal shut.

  Kyria wasn’t convinced. “He’ll be able to tell me of my past, and we can move forward. Help the children here.”

  “I have three days left to help,” Ram offered. “After that, you’ll have to find another archangel willing to give blood.”

  “Wha
t about the other watchers? Would they be willing to help?” Val bore a mysterious mix of hope and trepidation.

  “Even if they would, I’m not asking.”

  Eli stood. “Then how do we find Darius with so few people?”

  “Val might be able to help with that.” They all turned their attention to Kyria, who quickly grew sheepish. “When you introduced me to David, you said he might be able to help. If we’re careful.” The danger they found themselves in was no place for children. No innocent soul should grow up on the run, living in fear.

  God, she couldn’t imagine having kids and trying to raise them in this world. If her dad’s behavior was driven by the need to protect her, she could forgive him. She blinked back the burn in her eyes.

  “Who’s David?” Ramiel’s grumbling voice interrupted.

  “One of Val’s orphans,” Eli answered. “He’s gifted. His power is already emerging. Basically, he can find people.”

  Kyria waited patiently. She could see the gears turning in Val’s head before she nodded. “As long as I’m there, we can try. Like I said before, I can’t guarantee it will work, but you’re right. It’s worth a shot.”

  Eli’s phone rang. They all stared at him. He paused, checked the caller ID, then excused himself to take the call outside.

  Her chest tightened. With a sigh, she turned around to pluck a cookie off the baking sheet. She caught Ram staring mid-bite.

  Unsure what else to do, she held it out to him. “Want one?”

  Thick silence followed. He might say no, or simply turn away. He wrapped his hand around her wrist and leaned forward to take a bite, never breaking eye contact.

  A smoldering furnace awakened inside her in a flush of heat. One single touch to her skin and he set fire to her mind.

  Val cleared her throat. “Have you two eaten anything other than cookies?”

  “No.” Ram’s gruff voice was heavy with disapproval.

  Val clicked her tongue. “Make a few sandwiches, Ky, and get some rest. We’ll talk to David tomorrow. I’m gonna need half the day to prepare him, but I have a good feeling.”

  Kyria opened the refrigerator just to feel the cool air on her hot skin, not even thinking about the sandwiches. “Good idea. Ram, you need real food, too.” She pulled out leftover brisket.

  His expression softened. “I don’t eat human food.” He turned to Val. “I need to go back to the city. I need blood.”

  “I got an old motorcycle you can have if you can get it running. We’ll grab some blood bags along the way.”

  Dark eyes lingered on Kyria, his expression unreadable. Her pulse quickened when he finally answered Val. “Sure.” He grabbed Val’s shoulder, and they disappeared.

  They were gone. Val must have flashed them away, since Ramiel obviously couldn’t, leaving Ky alone in the big farm kitchen. Everyone had left her. Again. Rolling her eyes, she assembled two brisket sandwiches, gathered her father’s things, and headed for the stairs.

  The rest of the night would be stuffing her face, trying to read her dad’s notes with a Spanish dictionary, and passing out.

  Before she got far, Eli slipped back into the room with a sly grin on his face, nothing but trouble as he wandered toward her. “Hey, don’t be weird, but I have a terrible idea.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next day, just before dawn, Ramiel haunted Valiel’s old hangar. No planes, but plenty of space for him to fix up the dust-coated Harley she was lending him.

  Ramiel froze just as he lifted the lid of a big YETI cooler to grab a cold bag of blood. Val had given him a whole stash at no cost. Just out of the goodness of her heart, which confused the fuck out of him. But he didn’t complain.

  It was nice having a decent supply at his fingertips without needing human contact to obtain it. He didn’t even care that it was cold. It renewed his strength, and that was good enough for him.

  Dropping the blood pack and shutting the lid, he turned to pick up a wrench, then spun around to face the giant sliding doors of the dust-filled hangar. The annoying Nephilim who’d been following him the past fifty years stood there.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Eli paused in the open doorway. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the frame and stared at Ram for an uncomfortable length of time before responding.

  “Shouldn’t I be the one asking that question?”

  How did he begin to answer something he wondered himself? He turned his back on the Nephilim and closed the toolbox. No progress would be made with this one around.

  “Ignoring me is not going to work this time.” Eli moved to the bike and placed a palm over the handlebar. “Have you heard about or seen any changes in Nema?”

  Ram closed his leather jacket, the teeth of the zipper biting into his fingertips. Maybe slamming the kid’s head against the wall would fix his brain. “I don’t trust you. All these years you follow me around, then out of nowhere, a friend of yours shows up asking for my help, and she’s attacked by Nema’s demons?”

  “I think that’s the most you’ve ever said to me in one go.”

  A guttural sound emerged at the back of his throat, surging from a dark place deep within.

  Eli raised both hands in mock surrender. “Look, it doesn’t matter if you trust me or not. I care about Ky, and as hard as it is for me to believe, you do, too. If you’re staying, she needs to be trained in her new powers. Unfortunately, I’m leaving. And Val’s too busy with the ranch and taking care of the kids. So, that leaves you to help her.”

  Ramiel grabbed spare parts and took them to the old Harley skeleton. “I’ll do it if you stop asking me questions. And this doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

  A grim line replaced the usual smirk. “Not friends, huh? So, you really wouldn’t tell me if something was going on with Nema?”

  “I don’t know why she’d want Kyria any more than you do.” He crouched and glared at the Nephilim. “Probably the experiments she runs with the blood siphoned from angels.” He gripped his unshackled wrist to push a thumb against the ridge of the long scar down his forearm.

  “Right. I’ll look into it.” The Nephilim paused, cocky facade now absent. “I know you only have a couple days left. So, teach her whatever you can and take care of her. If you—”

  A third voice cut in, sweet but firm. “I just need to learn how to use my wings, not a babysitter.” Kyria stood at the door. The rising sun casting her perfect silhouette, booted feet planted wide with her hands on her hips.

  He pulled on the chain connecting his neck to his wrist. “Flashing can’t always save you. I was an archangel. Leagues above you. So, how do you plan on getting away if they take your wings the way they took mine?”

  She walked right up to him the way she had the first time they met at the bar. If she wasn’t smart enough to be afraid of him, she had no chance of surviving this with any of her soul intact.

  He expected a cutting response, but she wasn’t Nema.

  “Then teach me other things, too. While you still can. I’m not just going to sit around and do nothing while I wait for Val to help me find my father.” She fidgeted. Had to be tough relying on others to look for her family.

  Maybe he should tell her his initial suspicion that Nema’s demons could be the ones that kidnapped her father. But that would just worry her further. And it was too much of a coincidence to be true. How often did things work out so perfectly designed?

  The soft skin of her fingers on his arm distracted him, hitting every nerve in his body even though all she touched was the back of his hand. It had to be a sin for someone like him to feel something so heavenly.

  He surged to his feet and took a step back. Her words carried more weight than she realized, putting images and fantasies into his head that he had no right to.

  Immediate guilt was acid in his gut. The prophetic vision of a bloody street weaved through his memory. Kyria holding a dead boy as the demons attacked her.

  He dug his nails into his palm. “You do w
hat I say. No questions asked.”

  “Deal.” No hesitation.

  “I’ll leave you two to it then.” Damn, he forgot Eli was there. With a warning glare at Ram, the Nephilim spread his wings and vanished.

  What the Hell did I just agree to? He’d have to get close to her, touch her.

  She rubbed her hands together. “So, how do we start?”

  Picking up a metal pipe, he examined the rust on it. Not a sword, but it’d have to do. He turned to face her again. Their eyes met. And then he swung, stopping the momentum just shy of striking the side of her neck.

  She just stood there, eyes wide, hands flying to her chest. Not an ounce of self-defense training kicked in.

  He glowered. “You should have moved.”

  “Well, I didn’t think you’d actually hit me. And I was right.”

  She was right, but still. “The moment you start thinking, you’re dead.”

  “My father used to say the same thing. I’m sorry.”

  “You’ve been taught. Good. It’ll become second nature again. This time you’ll learn to use your wings to deflect or flash.”

  “Not sure how often I’ll be assaulted with old metal junk.”

  “When you venture off the ranch, much more dangerous things than a rusty pipe will try to get you.”

  He crowded her, his face mere inches from hers. The aroma of cinnamon and sugar surrounded him.

  “Really?” Uncertainty shook her voice, but she leaned in closer.

  His hand swept under her hair and circled her neck, each breath pulling him into her. “Yes. And I won’t always be there to protect you.”

  “Do you want to protect me?”