“He made you his slave?” I asked, horrified. “Why didn’t you go to the authorities? The SSF—”
“Dismissed me.” He cut me a look. “Practically shut the door in my face. The previous alpha was respected in the community. They weren’t taking the word of a worthless orphan kid over his.”
“That’s terrible.”
“That’s life,” he said with a shrug. “But I vowed then and there I wouldn’t always be worthless. Or voiceless. I served quietly for three years before I found a way to harness my gift. After that, I used it constantly, forming alliances with those whose word I could trust. And one by one, I got rid of those who would stab me in the back if given the chance. On the day I finally earned my freedom, I challenged the alpha to a battle.”
“And you beat him.”
“Fairly, yes, thanks to the strength and skills I’d learned as part of his street gang. When he realized he’d been bested, he tried giving a kill order.”
“Isn’t that a violation of the rules of the challenge?” I asked.
“He never bothered with rules unless they benefitted him. By then, I’d finally earned the ear of an SSF agent. At my order, those loyal to me stepped in to stop those who intended to put me down. I finished off the alpha and proclaimed myself the new pack leader. That night, the pack members who remained loyal to the old leadership attempted to assassinate me.”
“What happened?” I asked, caught up in the story. I knew he was leaving out a lot. The casual way he spoke belied a traumatic and violent reality. One that had clearly changed the way he dealt with the world.
“The SSF arrested those men and charged them with the crimes they’d committed against their own kind. Each one received a life sentence.”
“There was justice after all,” I said on an exhale.
He turned to me then, and the glint in his eye looked nearly like the one I’d seen last night when he’d turned on Rourke. “I won’t apologize for trusting my own instincts. Not when it comes to my life or the lives of those I care about. Without those instincts, I wouldn’t be standing before you today.”
I wanted to tell him it was possible to remain honorable in the face of evil. My dad had been proof of that. But I held it back. The look in Jax’s eyes now was more than haunted. It was an impenetrable wall. That kill-first-ask-questions-later switch he had shown me yesterday—it was part of him. At that moment, in the look he wore, I could imagine him clearly as a mated man. Maybe it was some sort of supernatural instinct of my own, but standing before him in the shadow of his terrible past, I knew that the darkness he carried would someday eclipse the light.
Jax rejoined Milo for breakfast in my room. I paced the hall, using the burner phone to call my mother and reassure her that I was still alive. For safety purposes—and because it was none of Raph’s damn business—I didn’t give her my address. But I could hear Gran in the background, vowing to hunt Adrik down and follow him here. I sincerely hoped she failed at that. Grudges weren’t my style, but I still hadn’t figured out how to move past her lie.
I called Adrik next.
“Hello?”
He answered in a quiet voice that made me wonder if I’d caught him somewhere dangerous. Or asleep. Immediately, an image of Adrik shirtless sprang to mind. I licked my lips, shoving the image aside.
“It’s me,” I said.
“Where are you?”
The question came low and urgent. Almost like an accusation.
“Jax’s safe house. Like you made me promise,” I reminded him.
He exhaled.
“Why?” I asked.
“There’s been an increase in emergency calls,” he said. “The council’s convening. Emergency session.”
“And you think I am somehow behind all these emergencies?”
“I think they want to eliminate you as an emergency. And by ‘they,’ I mean literally every SSF agent and Nephilim in power.”
His tone was wry, but he also wasn’t wrong.
Well, except that not every Nephilim wanted that. Azrael seemed okay with me. But I couldn’t tell him that.
“Whatever,” I grumbled.
“Where’s Rourke? Selaphiel’s starting to get suspicious. I think we should consider letting him—”
“Rourke’s dead.”
“What?”
I braced myself then quickly told him what had happened. Adrik was quiet when I finished, and I wondered if I’d made a mistake telling him. It was quite possible that he was quiet because he’d set the phone down and was now winging his way here to beat the crap out of Jax.
“Are you there?” I asked, vowing to at least warn Jax if Adrik didn’t answer me.
“I should have stayed.”
It wasn’t what I expected out of him. But it made sense.
“You couldn’t have stopped it,” I said. “Trust me.”
He muttered something incoherent that I decided not to use my supernatural senses to hear and interpret.
“Besides, we need someone on the inside to keep an eye on Selaphiel,” I added.
“I’m not exactly what you would call ‘on the inside’,” he pointed out, “but I’ll keep an eye on her.”
I thought of Raphziel’s admission, about what made Selaphiel vulnerable. More importantly, what made her killable. Why hadn’t Adrik told me that? Surely he knew the secret to his own immortality.
“How’s Tony? Everything okay?”
“He’s fine. Still blue.”
“There are worse things to be, I guess. Listen, see if you can locate Faith Burkhart. She works in the medical wing at the Delta building. She’s a friend.”
That felt weird to say, but trying to explain what Faith and I were seemed too complicated for the time allotted for this call.
“She promised to help Tony,” I added. “If there’s any medical treatment available to help him, she’ll have access to it.”
“I’ll see if I can find her,” he said. “Might be tricky. I’m not exactly welcome at the Delta.”
I snorted. Understatement.
“What’s the next step?” he asked before I could say anything else.
“How do you know there’s a next step?”
“With you, there’s always a next step. Usually something reckless and insane.”
I strategically ignored that last part and, instead, recapped Rourke’s interrogation including Raphziel’s little admission about what made Nephilim mortal.
“You think the portals are the key to her vulnerability?” he asked, clearly skeptical.
“I think you failed to mention your sis could be killed, so now I’m wondering if you should weigh in on this plan at all.”
More silence.
Voices hummed in the background.
I waited it out, too pissed to give in first. Why were both leading men in my life keeping shit from me?
“We should meet and talk,” he said finally.
“We should,” I agreed. “I’ll text you the place in a bit.” I waited a beat then gave in to my curiosity. “Where are you?” I asked, distracted by the sound of a bell tinkling in the background. It sounded like the ones that rang when you walked into a mom-and-pop shop.
“In the city. Getting some food.”
The voice in the background called out a hello, and I froze.
“Yeah, but where?” I pressed.
“It’s a sandwich shop,” he said as if admitting to some crime. “I like their pickle-and-cream-cheese bagels.”
“Son of a peniscork, are you at Lila’s?” I demanded.
“How did you know that?”
“Please, just—don’t mention my name. Or yours. And for Angel’s sake, don’t order the Sandwich Surprise.”
Back in my penthouse bedroom—a weird thing to say but not any weirder than the whole of my life—Jax and Milo were chuckling over the remains of their breakfast.
“What’s so funny?” I asked warily.
“Fergie’s eating the leftovers.” Milo pointed.
> I spotted Fergie underneath the table, some mushy sort of snack clutched in her fist. Yellow goo seeped out around her knuckles and coated her chin.
“Is that butter?” I demanded.
Jax and Milo burst out laughing.
“Gross,” I said, reaching for Fergie and missing when the little web-footed monster scooted away. Butter streaked across the floor in her wake. Undeterred, she resettled herself and took another bite from the stick.
“Disgusting,” I said, standing and glaring at the guys.
“At least she’s not feeding on flesh,” Milo said.
“Not raw, anyway,” Jax said. “With that much butter, she’d at least be able to fry it first.”
More laughter.
I went to shower and said a silent “thank you” to whatever cleaning professional Jax hired to clean this room when we were gone. I’d have to find a way to leave an extra big tip for them.
When I re-emerged, the breakfast cart was gone, and Fergie had passed out underneath the table. I decided it wasn’t worth moving her.
Milo offered me a fresh cup of coffee. “This is for you. And I saved you this.” He held up a covered plate, offering me a peek of eggs and toast.
“You’re a saint,” I said, reaching for the bacon with one hand and grabbing the coffee with the other.
“I thought you might need to reboot your day.”
“Mm,” I said, shoving an entire piece of bacon into my mouth. “Where’s Jax?”
“Apparently, there was a midnight visit from the SSF at his house in the Garden District.”
“Again? Was anyone hurt?”
“No one was there, but it appears they ransacked the place.”
“I should call my mom again.”
“I already texted her. Everything’s fine.”
I blinked. “You have my mom’s number?”
He held up a phone that was the twin to mine. “And a burner phone courtesy of your mafia boyfriend.” He winked. “This criminal life has its perks.”
“Okay, first, stop texting my mom. It’s weird.”
“Why? I already text with Gran.”
I stared at my coffee, willing it to turn into a shot of whiskey instead.
“You okay? You look a little sick.”
I met his eyes. “We need a plan to take down Selaphiel so I can go home. Or I’m going to lose my mind.”
“Girl, preach. I haven’t gotten laid in four days.”
Milo sighed, and I glared at him.
“We’ve been on the run longer than that.”
“Oh, I know.” His lips curve devilishly. “Have you seen the security guards Jax hires?” He winked. “Those hotties are definitely here for my protection.”
“I need a drink,” I muttered and wandered into the room to check on Fergie. She didn’t stir, and behind me, the door opened.
“Everything okay?” I asked Jax.
“Fine.”
He didn’t look fine, but he also didn’t look murdery, so I let it go.
“Good.” I probably should have asked whether his house and all its pretty décor had survived whatever the SSF had done, but after the morning I’d had, the only thing I could think about was getting my own life back. “In that case, can we talk about what we’re going to do about this killer angel bitch?”
“We kind of only have one play left,” Milo said, shooting a nervous glance to Jax, who ignored it and his implication. “With Rourke gone, I think our best strategy is to let Gem pose as Rourke and hopefully fool Selaphiel long enough to take her out.”
I stared at Jax and dared him to tell us he didn’t like that idea.
“You’ll need to sell it,” he said finally. “To convince her.”
I nodded. “Which means I need to show I can do magic. Specifically, I’ll need to summon a portal.”
“Which brings us back to needing a warlock,” Milo said.
Jax shot him a look.
“I’m stating the facts here, dude, calm down.”
“Milo’s right,” I said. “We need a warlock.”
“Or a witch,” Milo pointed out, clearly offended at my sexist remark.
“Or a witch,” I amended.
“We need one who doesn’t have anything at stake,” Jax said. “A warlock or witch-for-hire maybe.”
“For-hire is easy,” Milo said. “The Quarter’s full of them. But where the hell are we going to find a magic-user who’s versed in the same old-school magic Rourke used? That stuff has been outdated since our parents were kids.”
Jax frowned, and both of them fell silent.
The answer came to me like a sexually transmitted disease—gradually, then like sand against the groin and not at all welcome.
But it was all we had. And I refused to let Selaphiel win—which actually meant I’d be dead in that scenario—because I couldn’t face my past mistakes.
I winced and spoke up. “I think I know one.”
Chapter Eleven
The streets were nearly empty, thanks to the late hour. Above me, a sliver of a moon hung like a toenail. It felt fitting for the kind of day I’d had. I mean, was it still today? Shouldn’t it be tomorrow by now? Exhaustion made my steps slower than usual. Or maybe that was my current body weight dragging me down—these boobs weighed a lot more than I’d expected them to, honestly. But it wasn’t like I could risk walking around looking like myself. And while shifting into someone less noticeable probably would have been smart, I didn’t want to get all the way to Z’s house later and find myself too tired to shift again.
From the sling strapped to my torso, Fergie gurgled, but I didn’t shush her. Milo had glamoured her to look like a Chihuahua, which, in the grand scheme of things, didn’t feel too far off base.
Hopefully, I wouldn’t cross paths with anyone capable of seeing through glamours. Well, except the one currently waiting for me next to the merry-go-round.
The park in my mother’s neighborhood had been a frequent hangout for as long as I could remember. This late, though, even the teens who drank and smoked in the jungle gym had gone home.
It was completely deserted.
Except for the Nephilim watching me from the shadows.
“You’re late,” he said simply when I walked up.
“It took me a while to get her nose right,” I said, gesturing to my body. “What do you think?”
My question was baited; a lose-lose for him, and I knew it. This girl was hot as sin, and he’d be an idiot to pretend otherwise. But his eyes never left mine as he said quietly, “Physical appearance is fleeting. Your beauty has nothing to do with packaging. Although,” his lips twitched, “I don’t mind the packaging that is Gem Hawkins.”
My eyes went wide, and I grinned. “Did you just use fancy angel-speak to say you think I’m hotter than this chick?”
“I don’t recall making it a comparison.”
“Mmhmm. You don’t recall. Here in this dimension, we call it pleading the fifth.” My smile was smug. “But I won’t forget you called me hot.”
“You’re welcome to your interpretation,” he said, but I could see the amusement gleaming in his eyes.
“And you’re welcome to change your mind about babysitting,” I said, gesturing to Fergie strapped into the sling I wore across my middle. “She’s a handful. You don’t have to do this.”
“I’ve slaughtered thousands of demons. I think I can handle one infant.”
My eyes widened in horror, and I twisted away, shielding Fergie with my body. “Slaughtering is off the table, buddy.”
“I didn’t mean—I can handle her.” When I still didn’t move, he sighed and added, “No harm will come to her while she’s with me.”
I exhaled, my eyes still narrowed in suspicion. “Better not,” I muttered.
I attempted to untie the sling but ended up making it more tangled.
“Here, let me.” Adrik reached out and, with nimble fingers, untangled and removed the fabric from my body.
“I swear this girl�
�s skin I’m wearing is the most uncoordinated…”
Adrik said nothing, but I swore I saw him fighting a smile.
In no time at all, he had the sling attached to his own torso, and Fergie rested happily against his broad chest. She’d woken in the jostle of movement, and when she saw Adrik, she lit up, flashing a toothy smile.
“Rawr,” she said, fluttering her lashes.
I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, kid?”
She pointed to Adrik and snuggled in close against his chest. “Delicious,” she said except, thanks to toddler-speak, it sounded like a drunk person slurring “delishush.”
My jaw dropped.
“Since when do you know that word?” I cut my eyes to Adrik’s. “Sorry. She’s kind of a slow developer in the manners department. Although, she did just grow webbing on her feet, but that could’ve been chemicals in Jax’s bathwater.”
Adrik blinked.
He didn’t respond, apparently opting not to question what I’d just said. Probably for the best. It would only make less sense the more I tried to explain.
“She’ll be fine,” he said.
“Right.” I tried to reassure myself that he’d never let anything die he’d sworn to protect. That I knew of. “How’d it go with your recon anyway?”
“Your friend wasn’t in,” he said, and I scowled.
“Of course she’s ghosting us now.” I sighed. “What about Selaphiel?”
“She’s been in council meetings since shortly after our run-in with her. I don’t think she’s noticed Rourke’s absence yet.”
A good thing since, according to Rourke, they’d had plans to meet tonight. This emergency session was buying us time at least.
“What’s so important that they’re meeting in the middle of the night?”
“The demon attacks have escalated, and the supernatural community isn’t handling it well. There’ve been protests, and the SSF has been inundated with public criticism. Supernaturals are demanding more action, more protection.”
“Since when does the council care what the public wants from them?”
Death's Door (Supernatural Security Force Book 3) Page 10
