Benevolent Passion

by Amanda Pillar

  He had no idea who Opal was, but he didn’t want to make her horny.

  Taking a deep breath, he put every ounce of his energy in getting upright. “Is one of their name’s Yael?”

  She grunted and then they were standing. Well, he was half-drooping. Dru was stronger than she looked.

  Just like Peony.

  Dru flicked him a glance. “Yeah, the asshole.”

  Looking over the top of the hedge, Z stared at the two men watching them. One had long dark hair tied back loosely from a chiseled face; the other had brown hair cut military-short.

  The Darts. Azrael and Yael.

  Tears burned his eyes, and he struggled to breathe.

  He’d found them.

  Azrael sprinted toward to them, clutching at his side, as if he were injured. Then he was beside them.

  Where are his wings?

  Idiot. They must be concealed by magic. We’re in the Human Realm, after all.

  “Zadkiel?” Azrael’s expression held traces of horror as his gaze swept over Z’s sunken and tortured body.

  He nodded, afraid he’d cry if he spoke.

  He was a warrior angel, not a child with a skinned knee.

  Azrael draped Z’s free arm over his shoulder, and they hobbled toward an enormous white mansion, up its front stairs and into a foyer. Every part of his body hurt, but he was free, and he was with his fellow Darts. Yael was close behind them, holding out what looked like a cellphone. He also sent out a deafening mental blast.

  ‘Zadkiel is here!’

  Wonder consumed him, temporarily drowning out the pain. I can hear them.

  His brain hadn’t been permanently damaged from the head wound.

  So, something in the guild prevented me from calling out.

  It was a thought he would have to ponder later.

  Dru and Azrael carefully laid Zadkiel on a backless sofa, and he couldn’t conceal the grunt of discomfort that accompanied the movement. He briefly met Azrael’s gaze and looked away, not liking the pity he saw in those blue eyes.

  “Where did you find him?” Azrael asked Dru.

  “My guild had him.”

  “What? You knew the whole time—?”

  The whole time? Z watched them both; their body language was too familiar for casual acquaintances. What had happened between these two?

  “I had heard we had an angel captured, but I didn’t know he was your friend. I still had no idea when I removed him from the guild.”

  Truth.

  Z had never said anything, and he’d only told her his name after they left...

  Azrael shut his eyes. “But you brought him here anyway.”

  “It was the only safe place I could think of for an angel.”

  Truth.

  When had the Darts become friends with demons?

  He’d thought they would ostracize him for his...compassion for Peony. But it seemed like his comrades had been doing something similar.

  They probably befriended demons in order to find you.

  Guilt sat heavy in his stomach.

  It would have enraged Azrael to have to play nice with a demon.

  “You stole the Orb,” Yael accused Dru.

  Peony’s sister turned to the other angel, her eyes bleeding black, evil seeping from her. Z bit his lip—he’d never seen, or felt, that happen with Peony.

  “It was part of my mission,” Dru said. “And it was going to buy my sister’s and my freedom.”

  So they are both slaves?

  “Freedom?” Yael asked.

  “I was a blood slave. So is my sister.”

  “What happened to your sister?” Azrael asked, moving closer to Dru.

  Z tried to appear like he wasn’t as interested in the answer as he was. However, his whole body strained to hear her response.

  Dru’s eyes held an inky darkness that was all-consuming. “Trick sold her to the Mortus.”

  The Mortus?

  “He betrayed me,” Dru added.

  Truth.

  “You betrayed us,” Yael snapped.

  Peony would never have done that, Z thought.

  Dru nodded, the black receding from her eyes. “I did. But only for our freedom. I would have tried to help after. And, well, here.” Dru reached into her pack and pulled out a cloth-wrapped bundle. She shoved it at Azrael.

  The other Dart grabbed it automatically, and then his eyes widened as he unwrapped it, exposing a red-golden ball that glowed with an inner fire.

  “Is that—?” Yael whispered.

  “It’s the Orb.”

  The what?

  Chapter 18

  “You need to be punished for killing my men!” the royal Mortus shouted.

  “I haven’t killed anyone,” she said slowly.

  The demon’s face turned a darker shade of aubergine as his hands formed fists at his side. “You think you can lie to me, whore? I saw you do it!”

  “I have never seen you before in my life,” Peony protested. Not unless she had done something in her sleep, and somnambulance was not a trait she could admit to. “It wasn’t me.”

  “One scratch of those claws and—”

  Peony started shaking her head. “I don’t have any claws!”

  Her interruption made the demon lose control. He punched her in the stomach, then clipped her over the shoulders with another jab. The pain was instant, firing her nerves. She vomited bile right on his feet, bitterness lingering in her mouth, as she stayed bent over, fighting for breath.

  A body partially moved between them. “Stop!”

  “Godric, you dare interfere?”

  A grunt, and the royal figure stepped back. A pair of legs moved into her line of vision, cloak flowing around them.

  “One moment, Uncle, I just want to check something.”

  “If you stop me from beating obedience into this whore one more time...”

  A gloved finger tilted her chin up. “You didn’t want my uncle touching your skin before. Why?”

  She swallowed back more stomach acid and grimaced as her whole abdomen throbbed. “My skin, it’s toxic.”

  Someone scoffed. “You passed the skin test.”

  “And I said I’ve never seen you before! It wasn’t me!” The protest was out before she could call it back. She prepared for another blow, but the younger demon stayed between her and the royal, like a bodyguard.

  “You say you’ve never seen us before. Your skin is toxic.” The younger demon picked up one of her gloved hands—the movement almost...gentle. “You said you don’t have claws?”

  She could pretend to be her sister, so they wouldn’t try and track Dru down as well, but there was no point. Peony might not be toxic to other Mortus, but she had tested her venom in a laboratory situation and it was the most virulent toxin on the planet. She wasn’t about to take the risk. One touch on her bare skin and someone could die—or be in agony for hours. And if Dru had killed someone here already...

  Peony wasn’t a murderer.

  “No, I don’t have claws,” she said.

  He dropped her hand.

  “She lies,” the uncle hissed.

  “I have a sister,” Peony said. “Her name is Dru. She has claws and is an assassin for the guild you just purchased me from.”

  She then met the Godric’s gaze. “We are twins, but we are not one hundred percent identical. I don’t have claws and my skin is toxic to touch, like a normal Mortus.”

  The purple mottling began to fade from the older demon’s skin as he considered her words. His switch from palpable rage to calm consideration was unnerving.

  “There’s two of you?” he blurted.

  Peony fought an inappropriate smile. “I take it Dru visited here recently?”

  Godric stepped back. “She left a number of dead bodies in her wake.”

  Sounds like her.

  Perhaps they were meant to balance each other—Dru the killer, Peony the heale
r. No. That sounded too much like fate for her liking, and she didn’t want to believe in that.

  It meant somewhere, someone divine didn’t like her.

  The royal demon’s skin had returned to its normal olive-green hue. “Prove you aren’t your sister.”

  “The only way I can do that is if I touch someone,” Peony replied slowly. “And I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

  They stared at her.

  “You don’t want to hurt anyone?” the royal parroted, like the concept was something he’d never considered before.

  “No, I’m a healer. And there is a risk my toxin could harm someone...”

  Godric ran a hand over his hair. “Dru’s toxin killed several Mortus outright.”

  Peony blanched. “Then my touch will be just as deadly.”

  If Dru was more poisonous than the normal Mortus, Peony would be even more so. She didn’t even need a cut to deposit her venom into a victim, skin contact was enough.

  “Prove it,” the royal demanded.

  She shook her head.

  Godric faced the other demon. “Uncle, we just lost several men. Who would we spare?”

  “Some of the men have expressed their displeasure at our handling of the situation. I think a lesson may be in order.” His cold resolve was plain in every word.

  Peony stepped back.

  “You will prove yourself, girl. Or you will die. Either option is perfectly fine with me.”

  She clenched her fists. “But they’ll die.”

  He shook his head, like she was simple. “Death is inevitable; and when you’re Mortus, it comes at my will. Something for you to remember.”

  They paid five million dollars for me, only to kill me at the first instance?

  It made no sense.

  The royal turned away and barked for one of the loitering cloaked men to come forward. He issued a series of orders Peony couldn’t hear, then turned back to her. The room emptied, leaving just him and Godric.

  “My name is King Alvin Mortimus Severus deSatan, this is my nephew, Godric.”

  Her eyes widened. Alvin had actually included the Hell-lord as part of his name.

  The Mortus are the direct descendants of Satan.

  That was the rumor, at any rate.

  Apparently the king believed it was the truth. That or he had brass balls, as Dru would say.

  “Who were your parents?” Godric asked.

  “My mother was human and she died at my birth. I don’t know the identity of my father.” Not for lack of trying to find out. Selene hadn’t liked Peony’s need to learn the identity of her sire, but she hadn’t prevented her search. Dru had also looked, but it was like their parent had vanished from the face of the earth.

  Which probably wasn’t a bad thing, considering his species.

  Godric stepped away from her and her vomit, now that the apparent danger to her had passed. “Do you possess magic for healing?”

  “No, I studied medicine in the Human Realm.”

  Alvin’s brows furrowed together. “You did what?”

  Were these people hard of hearing?

  “I became a doctor,” she clarified.

  “A Mortus became a doctor.” Horror masked the king’s features. “Imagine if any other species found out...”

  Godric shook his head. “She’s a cambion, people expect them to be...odd.”

  “At least the other one was properly behaved.”

  Properly behaved? Murdering a bunch of people was acceptable, but helping them wasn’t?

  Mom was right. They are all psychopaths.

  Not that she had really doubted it, but this conversation felt surreal.

  A knock on the door made them turn. Two of the cloaked men were back, with a Mortus male standing between them.

  “Your Majesty wishes to see me?” the newcomer asked.

  “Lord Farcon, such a pleasure to see you. How do you fare after your brother’s demise? Does the new title sit well?” An oily smile creased the king’s mouth.

  Peony’s stomach churned uneasily, and not just because of its recent vomiting.

  The new arrival’s eyes settled on Peony and he lunged forward, only to be held back by the cloaked figures.

  “Bitch!” he shouted.

  Great, another one of Dru’s acquaintances.

  Chapter 19

  “You didn’t hand it over to Trick?” Azrael asked, referring to this mysterious Orb.

  Dru shook her head.

  Hurried footsteps sounded in the hall and then Raziel and Seraphina burst into the room, Raziel in a tailored suit, Seraphina in an expensive looking dress.

  They were clothed like humans.

  And, like Yael and Azrael, Z noticed, their wings were hidden from sight.

  They must have gone undercover to find us.

  Was Dina with them?

  Seraphina and Raziel locked their eyes on Z, their shouts and cries of surprise deafening in the small room. They hurried toward him, Seraphina running gentle hands over the skin of his back, careful to avoid his ruined wings.

  He tried not to flinch. He didn’t want her hands on him, he realized. He wanted Peony’s.

  There is something wrong with you.

  “Oh, Zadkiel, what did they do to you?” The pity in Seraphina’s voice was like being doused with a bucket of cold water.

  Wasn’t it obvious? “They plucked my wings.”

  But he had survived.

  He was here.

  He hadn’t given up.

  He didn’t deserve pity, he deserved praise.

  Raziel placed a tentative hand on one of Z’s shoulders, then focused his attention on the glowing sphere in Azrael’s hand. “She brought you the Orb?” the dark-skinned angel asked.

  “And Zadkiel,” Azrael replied.

  Raziel nodded at Dru. “Thank you. But why?”

  Typical Raziel. Polite to a fault. The angel’s thoughts were unreadable, as always.

  “My sister was sold to the Mortus,” Dru said. “She was caring for your buddy, helping him heal. We made a deal. He’s going to help me get her back. And I thought I should return the Orb to you. You need it more than I do.”

  “Thank you,” Azrael said, staring at Dru like she was a miracle.

  Tingles spread all over Z’s skin. What was going on here? Azrael hated demons. And now he was...friendly with one?

  Very friendly from the appearance of things.

  What had happened to the Darts in his absence?

  “That’s lovely and all,” Yael cut in. “But we can’t use it.”

  “No one can,” Seraphina said.

  “What?” Dru snapped.

  “Only a demon who is ‘pure of heart’ can use the Orb,” Azrael explained.

  Dru pivoted on her heel and looked at Z.

  He didn’t know what this Orb did, but if only the pure of heart could use it... “The little healer,” he said.

  Dru nodded. “My sister.”

  Yael laughed. “There is no such thing as a demon who is ‘pure of heart’.”

  Now that sounded more like the Darts he had left in Heaven.

  “Peony was raised by humans,” Dru said. “She went to medical school, intending to become a doctor. She just wants to help people.”

  “She is kind. Pure,” Z added and struggled to rise. Raziel and Seraphina pressed him back into the sofa. “We must save her.”

  “You must heal first,” Seraphina said.

  And who knew how long that would take? It had already been months since his capture.

  Azrael and Dru walked out of the room, gazing at each other like they were starving.

  A temporary silence descended in the wake of their departure, and he could feel the other Darts staring at his ruined wings.

  Get used to it.

  “Is Dina here?” Z asked.

  Their attention shifted from his body to his face.

  Raziel’s expression
was serious. “No. We haven’t heard anything about Dina since you were both taken. We were hoping you knew what happened to her.”

  Gone, she’s gone.

  A pit formed in his gut. He may not have the romantic feelings he once possessed for the other angel, but she had been his commander and a fine one at that. She had been a force to be reckoned with in Heaven for centuries. To have lost her...

  “We were together on guard duty, but then we were attacked.” He didn’t want to admit the whole story, it painted him too badly, but these angels were his comrades. They deserved the truth, to know what a failure he had been. “I was knocked unconscious early into the fight.”

  “Do you know who attacked?” Yael asked, his voice calm.

  Z studied him. Yael had never been particularly cool-natured. What had changed him?

  “Infernus demons,” Z replied.

  “What?” Seraphina’s outburst was followed by curses from Raziel and Yael. She turned to the other dark-skinned angel. “Raze, Infernus are bad. For them to get into Heaven...”

  Raze?

  Stern, storm-colored eyes met Z’s briefly. Then Raziel focused on Seraphina. “Lucifer was once an angel and one of their ancestors. It is possible he knew of a way to penetrate Heaven’s defenses.”

  “But why wait millennia?” Yael demanded.

  “That I cannot answer.”

  Neither could Z. As if he would have any real concept of why a Hell-lord behaved the way they did; evil had its own motivations.

  “If the Infernus have Dina, they will be difficult to track,” Yael said, then he disappeared into the hall outside the room. He returned wearing a disgusted expression. “Who would have thought?”

  “What?” Raze asked.

  “Azrael and that demon.” Yael shook his head. “He could have had an archangel.”

  “A what?” Z blurted.

  He hadn’t thought Azrael had any interest in romance at all.

  “Aurora came to us not long ago and offered Azrael a position as consort,” Yael explained.

  Raziel rolled his eyes, which knocked Z off balance. Raziel was never anything but collected. “And I told you, I think it was a set up. They wanted the Orb. She would have backed out of the deal once he handed it over.”

  “She’s an archangel,” Yael protested.

  “And look what the others did to us,” Raziel said. “You really think she would have taken one of us as a consort?”