Wicked Nights aotd-1
Page 17
Such a long string of words. The pain must have abolished his inhibitions.
But that couldn’t overshadow what he’d said. Zacharel was possessive and jealous, when he’d never displayed the slightest emotion before.
What other human emotions would their leader unleash? Especially when he lost the girl. And he would lose her. Mortals were delicate, easily crushed; angels were not.
“Where are your boys?” Koldo asked. “They’re usually not far behind you.”
“Bjorn is hunting Jamila. She left Zacharel’s cloud a few nights ago and hasn’t been seen since. Xerxes is examining the remains of a demon horde found under that very cloud.”
“And you are hunting Zacharel to heed his command.”
“Not exactly.” He had spoken inside Zacharel’s mind, as Zacharel had spoken inside his. He could do so again, could ask where Zacharel was and if he was okay or needed help, but he wouldn’t. That kind of connection to anyone but Bjorn and Xerxes disturbed him as he suspected it disturbed Zacharel. “Did he say where he was going? Or what his plans were?”
“If he did, I was too busy being unconscious to notice.”
Thane couldn’t help himself; he grinned. Humor, from the ever-serious Koldo was as baffling as Zacharel’s new obsession with the girl. And it moved Thane to do something he knew he shouldn’t.
He strode to the kitchen and placed on the counter all the items necessary for making a sandwich. He should be tracking another demon to torture. Unfortunately, the one he’d captured had not given any details, no matter what he’d done, had just stoically borne the pain. He should be alerting the other members of the army to these new developments. But he wanted to ease Koldo somehow, someway.
“You can’t feed me,” Koldo said from the bed.
No, he couldn’t, as much as he wished otherwise. Anyone who did would be forced to bear the very pain they’d hoped to assuage—for the rest of eternity. “I’m hungry and in need of a snack. If you want what I leave behind, that’s up to you.” As he was learning, there was always a way around a rule.
Thane bit into the turkey-and-cheese as he strode back to the bed. He took another bite, and then another, before placing what was left of the sandwich on the nightstand. Then he returned to the kitchen and filled a glass with orange juice. He drained half the contents before the glass, too, found a new home on the nightstand.
Koldo studied the food for a long, silent moment before shifting his gaze to Thane. “I will tell you why I wanted the Water if you swear never to breathe a word of what you hear.”
Vows were sacred among their kind. Thane often felt as if he were a man lacking any sort of honor, that there was nothing he wouldn’t do, no line he wouldn’t cross, but that wasn’t exactly true. He never broke his vows, and he never would. “I so swear.”
A beat of stilted silence, then, “Zacharel was dying. The girl swore to keep him out of the heavens for one month if I healed him. I knew the Water was the only thing that would save him, and so I procured it for him.”
He absorbed the warrior’s words, trying to reason things out, failing. “Why a month?”
“I needed time to heal. Time to search…to act.”
The potency of the warrior’s relish left no doubt that the “act,” whatever it was, would involve bloodshed. “Tell me.”
“Your oath of secrecy extends to this?”
Meaning, he would not mention this discussion even to Bjorn or Xerxes. “It does.”
Koldo gave the slightest of nods. “Everyone thinks a demon removed my wings all those years ago, and I allow them to think this because I do not want to answer any questions about the truth.”
“But the truth is…what?” Thane asked, knowing Koldo would answer him. Not because he had given his vow of silence, but because the truth was a poison inside of him, a poison he was desperate to expunge.
“An angel took my wings, and I plan to kill her.”
Thane had questioned why the stoic Koldo, the unflappable, unbendable warrior anyone and everyone could rely on, had been assigned to this last-chance army. He’d heard rumors about a supposed beating Koldo had rendered, but he’d never seen the male worked into any kind of temper. Now he fit a few puzzle pieces together. Whether the beating had happened or not, Koldo was a part of Zacharel’s army because of the vengeful purpose in his heart.
“If Zacharel so much as suspected, he would try and stop you.”
“Yes.”
“And you do not think I will try and stop you?”
There was no hesitation when Koldo replied with, “No, I do not. You know the value of retaliation.”
Actually, he knew the hopelessness. After his rescue from the dungeon, after his body had healed, Thane, Bjorn and Xerxes had returned. Three days and three nights were spent locked in a vicious battle for rights to that dungeon. Oh, they could have killed the demons inside, torched the place and ended things in an hour, but they hadn’t wanted that. Hadn’t wanted their captors to die quickly or easily.
And so they hadn’t. The three of them had taken the dungeon, leaving everyone inside alive. The pain-filled screams still sometimes echoed inside Thane’s mind. But he did not feel any better about the past…and he knew his boys did not feel better about themselves.
“You will do what you feel you must,” he finally said. “I will not tell Zacharel.” He paused, head tilting to the side. “Who is she, this woman who betrayed you?”
“That, I will not tell you.”
“Because you think I would shield her. Interesting. I must know her. No matter, though. Here’s something I’m sure you will learn about me. I love two men, and no others.” There wasn’t room in the small chambers of his heart for anyone else. “Your female is nothing to me.”
Silence.
He sighed. “You will let me know if there is anything I can do to aid you in your quest.” A demand.
“There is nothing. I must do this alone. She hides from me, and I will allow no one else to drag her from the shadows. I will be the one to unearth her.”
Understood. “Very well. I will leave you to—” He trailed off as a sense of foreboding suddenly struck him, followed by a flash of images through his mind. He and Zacharel must have maintained a strong mental link, because he could feel his leader’s dread and fury.
Zacharel, he said, projecting his voice into his leader’s mind. So much for keeping his mental distance.
Nothing, no response.
Zacharel, what’s going on?
Again no response.
Was Zacharel ignoring him? Or too injured to respond?
“I must go,” he told Koldo. He would have to track the angel the old-fashioned way.
“There is trouble?”
“Worry not, for this is not something that concerns you,” he evaded. He would not have the man worrying when there was nothing he could do. “I will return when I’m able.”
* * *
ANNABELLE STOOD IN THE center of the slaughter, winded yet buzzing with adrenaline. Black blood formed multiple rivers around her. She rubbed at her chest, hoping to finally ease the burn that had begun to blaze inside the cavern, when Zacharel had… When he’d… Even now the burn increased, and she rubbed harder.
Don’t think about it. Right now, demonic bodies were piled around her, the scent of rotten eggs thick in the air, pungent enough to make her gag. Yeah. She’d think about that. It was far more pleasant.
Zacharel had produced his sword of fire and gone to town on each of the monsters, allowing none to escape. To her surprise, he’d also placed two blades in her hands when she’d dropped her own, her last, enabling her to continue fighting.
And fight she had, the sharp metal tips slicking through jugulars, midsections and even the backs of knees, hobbling her prey for easier elimination. What she’d lacked in skill she’d made up for in creativity and determination.
“Are you injured?” Zacharel demanded, stomping across the motionless, headless bodies to reach her.
He looked her over, judging the truth of her words for himself. At the same time, she looked him over. He was just as blood soaked as she was, with sweat trickling down his temples, his robe soaked to his skin.
“I’m well enough. Come, we must clean you up.” He offered his hand to her.
To his credit, he didn’t force her to link her fingers with his but waited for her to initiate contact on her own. She licked her lips, wishing there were some other way to leave this place. But he’d just uttered the only words that could have made a difference. Clean up. The blackened blood singed her skin, and already she had welts.
Expression blank, he said, “I am sorry for what I did to you, Annabelle, I truly am. I did not mean to… I was caught up… I’m sorry,” he repeated.
Such sincerity from him should have surprised her, but it didn’t. “I know you are,” she said. And she really did, now that her mind was freed from the bondage of fear. That had been his first kiss, and he’d been caught up in the sensations, just as she had been…until he’d ripped her top and bared her breasts, and memories of Fitzpervert and his camera of shame had flooded her. “But just so you know, I won’t be wanting to kiss you again.”
That part of their relationship was over. Zacharel hadn’t meant to hurt her, but hurt her he had. He’d abused the very fragile trust she’d built with him. He hadn’t stopped when she had wanted him to stop, and she couldn’t risk something like that happening again.
Muscles ticked below eyes of green frost, a testament to a barely leashed temper. “You will change your mind.”
If he ever let go of that leash… “No, I won’t, and I won’t leave with you until you accept it. And by the way, did you know you’re snowing again?”
At first, he offered no reaction to her words, or her rejection. Then, with a powerful shrug of his shoulders he flared his wings, studied the feathers of one, then the feathers of the other. “I must have done something to encourage my Deity’s displeasure. And I can guess what that something is.”
Disappointment softened his features, making him appear as boyish as he had inside that cave, when he’d wanted her so desperately. I will not soften. But finally, blessedly, the burn in her chest faded.
“So that’s what the snow is all about?” she said. “Why was he displeased with you in the first place?”
“I killed humans in order to kill demons. Humans worth saving, though I did not realize it at the time. People who could have been like you. I am glad I did not judge you guilty and end you without thought.” Zacharel closed the rest of the gap between them, no longer content to wait for her to take his hand. His body brushed against hers, and she stumbled backward, even tripped over the limb of a fallen demon and fell to her butt. “What a shame that would have been.”
She jumped to her feet, and backed up to increase the distance between them, but she never gained any ground and finally found herself pressed against a tree trunk. Her heart drummed against her ribs, but she wasn’t afraid. Maybe because she knew he was no longer lost to lust, or maybe because he’d fought so tirelessly beside her, striking at anyone who’d attempted to get to her while she was distracted fighting someone else.
He’d even allowed himself to be injured, just to prevent her from being injured.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Green fire lanced down at her. “You will kiss me again, Annabelle, because I give you my word I will not lose control a second time. I learned my lesson, and I learned it well.”
“Your optimistic, faith-filled words won’t work with me.”
“Won’t they? Do not try to tell me that you no longer desire me. I know better. I’m new at this, yes, but I’m not stupid. Your pupils are flared, your pulse is a jackhammer at the base of your neck and you liked what I was doing to you before I went too far. I can still hear your moans in my ears.”
She gulped, considered lying, thought screw it and gave him the truth. “I did like it. You’re right about that. But then I really, really disliked it.”
“From your tone, I can only assume you think to deny me a chance to prove myself.” He leaned a fraction closer. Too close, his breath like the most decadent of caresses against her skin. “That you long to punish me. Well, I will accept punishment. For a little while.”
She gulped.
“But you will trust me again, Annabelle. You will want me again, and we will be together. I will behave. You’ll see.”
His arrogance should have rubbed her the wrong way, but knowing he wanted her so much, that he was willing to do anything to be with her, was more an aphrodisiac than a deterrent. And if anyone possessed the strength to pull himself from the brink of satisfaction, or from anything, for that matter, it was Zacharel. From now on, he would control himself.
Maybe his faith-filled words had worked.
“I’m not sure why we want each other,” she grumbled.
“Nor am I, but the fact remains that we do want each other.”
“Maybe I’m just shallow. You’re quite pretty.”
“For now, that will do.”
Infuriating man. Couldn’t take an insult the way she intended. With a sigh, Annabelle wrapped her arms around his neck. “All right, I’ll leave with you.”
Satisfaction dominated his expression, as he anchored her against the strength of his body and shot into the air.
“Wait! My packages,” she said when she realized he was not heading back to the cave.
“I do not want to risk going back and encountering more demons. We’ll buy you new things.”
Another shopping trip? “That kinda sounds like a bribe.”
“Whatever it takes.”
She almost laughed. Almost. “Two can play that game. Expect to spend thousands—without a reward.”
“As long as we buy cookies as well as clothing, I’m fine with that.”
Cookies. Sneaky angel, he’d just had to go there, hadn’t he, reminding her of his enjoyment, his sensual delight.
He said, “Time for your bath. Hold your breath,” and swooped down, diving into a clear lake before she could demand to know why.
Icy water instantly enveloped her, colder even than his wings, making her gasp and choke and shiver. Just when she thought she could take no more, he glided out and back into the clouds.
The fact that he soared so effortlessly, despite the waterlogged state of his wings, spoke of his amazing strength. “Little more…warning next…time,” she said between coughing fits.
“My apologies. How much more time would you like?”
“A hour, maybe. Possibly two.” Though no amount of time could prepare her for such a frigid dipping.
“Very well. But I must admit, taking care of a female is more difficult than even I imagined.”
“Hey! I am not high maintenance. I’m spunky.”
His gaze met hers for a protracted second. “To a man who has spent centuries seeing to only his own needs, you are indeed high maintenance, but I’m finding I do not mind maintaining you.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ZACHAREL CONSIDERED HIS options. Demons had found Annabelle in the clouds. They’d found her in the cave. Clearly, keeping her underground wasn’t the answer any more than keeping her in the heavens had been. So that left…what?
Knocking her out? No one had attacked her while she had slept. Or…wait. “How long were you in the institution before the demons found you?”
“A month, maybe.”
A month. Her scent and allure must have been masked by the people surrounding her. People, then. People were not a threat but a key.
With that in mind, he flew her to a busy hotel for humans on the outskirts of New Zealand. Obtai
ning a room wasn’t difficult. He simply misted her through the walls until spying what he wanted: an unoccupied space, with guests on either side, above and below.
“Shower. Warm up,” he told her, then left to procure food and clothing. More than the impromptu bath, she’d had to deal with his declining temperature.
In the hotel’s kitchen he acquired chicken and rice for her and fruit for himself, and snagged a clean uniform from the stack in back, being sure to leave enough money behind to more than cover the cost of both the food, the clothing and the room itself.
He left the uniform in the bathroom, not liking how harsh it felt against his skin. She would be scratched, and the thought did not settle well. He wished he had another robe tucked away, but he had left the extra one in the cave with her purchases. He could have flown to another location, found her something softer, but he could not bring himself to leave the hotel to acquire something better.
When she emerged on a thick cloud of steam, he saw that the clothing was too short for her. She didn’t seem to mind, though, and to be honest, she looked adorable.
Without a word she placed a dagger under a pillow on the bed and one on the nightstand.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Starved.”
They ate in silence, her clean, soapy scent a live wire that connected them. Her hair was wet and slicked back into a tight ponytail, the strands like glistening ebony silk. The style left her face bare, nothing hiding those uptilted, crystalline eyes, those sharp, rose-tinted cheeks or those heart-shaped lips. Actually, adorable was not the right word. She was beauty personified.
What would she look like spread over the bed, her hair a spill of velvet, her eyes heavy lidded, her cheeks flushed with passion and her lips parted as she breathed him in?
“Thanks for the food,” Annabelle said, at last cutting through the quiet. Her voice held traces of exhaustion, elation and…something else, something he couldn’t identify.
“You are welcome.”
Her gaze met his, steady but glassy. “So what now?”