by Austin, RB
Cade leaned over. The screen depicted an aerial view of Astoria, zoomed in on the land they owned. His gaze centered in on a yellow blinking dot heading toward the HQ. “How do you know it’s him?”
“Sarid color-coded the tracking devices located in our cell phones and vehicles. Gabe is yellow.” Lucas’s eyes narrowed at the screen. “He’s moving a little fast. I’ll access one of the cameras.”
Lucas hit a few keys and a picture of Gabe’s black Bugatti Veyron came into focus, along with a view of its passenger.
“Son of a bitch.” Cade’s voice thundered through the room.
Sarid pushed off from the wall. He glanced at the computer then walked back to his spot.
“Maybe it’s someone for Jeeves.”
Cade snorted. Most of the time he respected Lucas’s skill to surmise the best of a situation. Not the case today. “Right. How many times have I told him to keep his nheqebas off our property? Gabe has his own place in town for this bullshit. Not only is he late, again, he brings another human female here. I’m surprised he hasn’t let a Fallen track him before.”
Lucas twisted in his chair to face Cade pacing behind him. “Gabe wouldn’t lead the enemy here. He’s always careful.”
Cade stopped short and pointed at the screen, it had moved to show a different camera angle, this one a quarter of a mile closer to the HQ. The profile of a nheqeba sitting in the passenger’s seat was unmistakable. “You call this careful? Allowing a Follower onto our property and into our home. Allowing a human access to our HQ. What if she’s a spy?”
“He can erase her memory of this place and himself when she leaves,” Lucas responded quietly. After a few strokes, the car vanished from view on the screen.
“This is the last straw. Gabriel was warned, repeatedly. I’ll address his recklessness and inability to put the mission first after the ceremony.”
Lucas’s brow wrinkled, but he didn’t say another word. Cade’s boots continued to beat a soundless track in the carpet from one end of the room to another.
The tapping on the keyboard became the only noise in the room. It stopped when the main door opened then shut.
Cade stormed from the conference room. Lucas and Sarid were behind him. He strode to the barrister and gazed down. The woman lay on the couch. Even if she was unconscious, it didn’t excuse the fact she was here. In. The. HQ.
“Why is there a Follower here, Gabriel?” Cade didn’t even try to curb his temper.
Gabriel walked toward the staircase. “It’s not what you think. She’s—”
“What I know is you brought another Follower into the HQ. Into the place where we’re the most vulnerable. The place where Apollyon can learn the most about us. The perfect place for a spy.”
Gabriel started up the steps. “She’s not a spy. She—”
“How often does one know when a spy’s in their midst? My job is to protect this Sept. Even you. The time has come. After the ritual, I will ask Elias to remove you from under my command.”
Gabriel blanched. He stopped in the middle of the staircase.
“In truth,” Cade went on. “You need to be removed from the Behns entirely, but I won’t be cruel. Perhaps another leader can make you see the importance of what we do.”
“Are you not going to hear me?” Gabriel asked, voice even.
Cade fisted his hands at his sides and took a calming breath, then uncurled his fingers. “Wipe her memory and get her out of here.” He spun to head back to the conference room.
“That’s the whole point, Boss. I can’t.”
Cade stopped. If this was another one of his games, he was going to lose it on the boy.
“I tried. I can’t get through. The nheqeba saw me fighting. Was witness to a Fallen kill and she was cut. I’m not sure how much blood she’s lost. Before I take her to the hospital, you need to do the deed first.”
“Do what?” An unfamiliar, feminine voice cut off Cade’s reply.
His gaze swung to where the nheqeba sat on the couch. Standing, not altogether stable, she moved to the bottom of the staircase.
Arms wrapped around her middle. There was dried blood on her neck and the collar of her shirt. Her pants were torn. A scrape ran down her pale, right cheek. The nheqeba resembled a scared, lost child. One who might fall down at any second. But her voice had been strong and her shoulders pulled back as she looked from Lucas to Cade to Gabriel. Sarid was undetectable in the shadows.
“What am I doing here?”
Gabriel rushed down the stairs. He took a hold of the nheqeba’s arms, leading her to the couch. She pulled her arm from his grasp. For some reason Cade was happy about that.
“The last thing I remember was leaving the bar.” She put a hand to her head and winced. The female fell silent, staring at the floor, her forehead wrinkled.
“I’m going to take you home in a few minutes,” Gabriel promised. “Why don’t you sit for a minute, then we’ll go.”
“The alley. Four men were there.” The nheqeba pointed at Gabriel. “You were there. Then . . . then there was two of you and . . .” She rubbed her temple. “Need that half bottle of aspirin now,” she mumbled.
“They were muggers.” Gabriel reached for her arm again.
Cade started down the steps. Lucas followed.
“Wait. Blond Guy. He came after me. And you saved me.” Her eyebrows drew together. “He . . .” She pressed her fingers against the side of her neck. Horror spread across her face. Shaking her head the fear vanished behind confusion. “There was ash. He became ash?” She covered her eyes with both of her hands. “I had too much to drink?” The words were muttered, hopeful. She raised her head and her gaze moved to Cade, then Lucas. Her eyes widened. Fear flashed across her face. The nheqeba took a step back. Grimaced. “Why does my head hurt?”
“You fell and hit your head.”
“I did?”
“She did?” Cade swung his gaze from the nheqeba. Pain speared his chest. There one minute, gone the next.
Gabriel addressed Cade. “Yes. I dusted one Fallen and the other two ran off. I planned to go after them before I noticed she was hurt. I spoke to her for a moment then she fainted. I didn’t catch her in time.”
The regret in his voice saved his ass from Cade’s unexpected burst of anger.
“She hit the back of her head,” Gabriel added.
Cade moved toward the nheqeba. She backed away, and would have hit the end table if he hadn’t caught her. “Careful, chemda,” he said, gazing into her warm, dark, honey colored eyes, voice low and soothing. “Relax. I want to take a look at your head.”
She stared at him for a minute, swallowed then nodded. Cade let go of her arm and with both hands examined her scalp. Her thick hair draped across his hands, softer than any of those nancy sheets Martha tried to put on his bed. He found an egg-sized lump on the right side of her skull. The nheqeba jerked away, drawing a breath in sharply.
“Sshh,” he murmured, and she stilled. Cade examined the whopper size of a bump, pleased he didn’t cause her to flinch again. Reluctantly, he let his fingers slip through her hair and stepped back.
She stared at him quizzically, rubbing the top of her head. After a moment, she turned to Gabriel. “You can take me home. I’ll be fine.”
Cade’s stomach clenched.
Gabriel met his gaze over the top of her head. “Are you going to do it?”
The nheqeba swiveled to Cade, eyes narrowing. “Do what?”
Cade didn’t remove his gaze from the female while he answered Gabriel. “I can’t erase her memory until it’s seen she doesn’t have a concussion. I could cause permanent damage.”
“What?” The nheqeba glanced from Gabriel to Cade. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I want to go home. Now.” Her gaze darted to the exit
. “I can walk.”
“Lucas,” Cade said on a breath, wanting him to ease her fears.
Too fast for the nheqeba’s eyes to trace, Lucas moved to block her exit. She opened her mouth, but Lucas’s hand stroked the side of her face and she sighed in contentment. A second later, she collapsed against him.
Cade was at his side. “What did you do to her?”
Lucas’s gaze swept over Cade’s expression, eyebrows rising. “The nheqeba is only sleeping.”
Relief coursed through him. Cade snatched her from Lucas’s arms and swung her into his own, ignoring Lucas and Gabriel’s shocked expressions. He carried her up the stairs and past Sarid.
Chapter 3
Vetis walked with Kobal into the main chamber of the underground space they revoltingly called a home. Adorned with concrete walls, concrete floors, and concrete ceilings, the hellhole was complete with the ambience of dirty, trickling water as they moved through the tunnels. They lived in hiding when they should be above ground, showing the stupid cattle who was higher on the food chain.
As usual, Kobal’s incessant, high-pitched girl chatter, interspersed with giddy laughter made him want to kill someone. Lucky for Kobal, Vetis couldn’t murder the demon of hilarity without risking his own life. He shoved his clenched fists into his pockets and hid his scowl beneath his dark hood.
“You should have finished the Behnshma, Vetis.” Kobal chided, his voice a few octaves below breaking glass. “Those Behnshmas need to learn a lesson.” He laughed, mouth wide, his pointed teeth gleaming.
From the opening in his hood, Vetis spied movement in the dark corner of the chamber. The second-in-command stood from his chair and walked into the light. “Your job is to gather humans for Apollyon, not to make waves with the Trihune.” His voice was low and rich, better suited to sermons than to leading evil.
Kobal flinched as if Sonneillon had yelled.
Pussy.
The demon’s gaze bounced, looking everywhere but at Sonneillon while he tried to explain his way out of the mess his mouth had gotten him into. Again. “But he let one of the newly Fallen get dusted.” He gave a high, nervous giggle. “If it weren’t for the Behnshmas we would be ruling this city.” Kobal clapped his hands, his gaze distant like he could envision it already.
What a moron. Vetis tilted his head back to meet Sonneillon’s gaze evenly. “When does Apollyon want the recruits?” A stream of cold air pushed out of his mouth with his words. Kobal shivered and stepped a few feet in retreat.
“A few weeks.” Sonneillon answered.
Sonneillon remained unaffected by the cool air circulating the room. That sucked. “I’ll bring in other recruits tomorrow night,” Vetis said in response to Kobal’s tattle.
“Damn, V. Stop talking. We’re underground with no heat supply and I let Lilith borrow my jacket.”
Vetis glared. Why was he still here? Kobal chuckled and took another step back.
“I know you will,” Sonneillon said in his calm demeanor. He used the same tone even when he tore limbs from a body.
Vetis lips curled. “I don’t need encouragement or your rules.” His gaze swept over the pathetic excuse for a second. “I don’t work for you, angel,” he spat. The word was foul on his tongue. “I work for Apollyon.”
Sonneillon’s eyes narrowed but before he could reply the door to the chamber opened, banging against the concrete wall before it slammed closed.
“I work for him too, honey.” A sultry voice rang out across the room. “Who wants to guess how many recruits I brought in today?” Lilith, the queen of demons, or so she called herself, danced over, her long, red hair bouncing.
“How many?” Kobal giggled.
“Five.” She squealed and moved to give Sonneillon a hug.
He stepped back, avoiding contact. “What did you do? Promise to sleep with them?”
Her full, crimson lips puckered. “Not all of them.” Lilith unbuttoned the knee-length leather jacket and tried to hand it back to Kobal who’d froze, mouth falling open. The white lace dress that ended just below her crotch was completely transparent. She wasn’t wearing a bra or panties.
“Ooh, Vetis,” she said with a shiver, flinging the jacket still in her possession over Kobal’s head. “Have you been talking again?” Delicate hands with blood-colored fingernails glided over prominent nipples. The come-hither expression on full force and directed at him.
As if. His gaze ran down her body taking in the full breasts, tight stomach, and curved hips. He was as excited as when he spied a rat creeping in his wing. Like he’d want exposure to every human disease from the whore who spread her legs for anything with a dick or without. Even if he couldn’t get sick, he wasn’t into nasty.
Reading his expression well, Lilith strolled to him with a smirk. Invading his personal space, she pushed her breasts out until they brushed against his chest. “How about I borrow your sweatshirt,” she purred huskily, rubbing her erect nipples up and down his chest, playing with the zipper underneath his Adam’s apple. “I need to get warm or maybe you want to do the honors?”
Vetis took a swift step back, severing contact.
Lilith heaved a sigh and folded her arms over her chest, her bottom lip bulging.
“Where are your recruits?”
“In the holding cells.” She answered Sonneillon with a sniff.
“You and Kobal bring them and the others some food.”
“What?”
Kobal grinned, teeth and all
“I’m not going anywhere with him.”
“You didn’t mind me this morning when you needed to borrow my jacket.” Kobal stroked a finger down her bare arm.
She squealed and jumped out of reach, her breasts bobbing. Kobal’s gaze predictably followed the bouncing body parts. “Don’t touch me. I borrowed your jacket, not you.”
“Both of you just do it.” Sonneillon’s low order echoed off the concrete walls.
Kobal jumped and scurried to the door. Lilith pressed her lips together and followed him out.
Vetis watched them go, wishing the tunnel would collapse on the way and kill the both of them. When the chamber was empty he turned to Sonneillon.
“Never. Question. My. Position.” Sonneillon stalked to him until the tips of their boots touched. “You forget yourself,” he continued. “I’m the demon of hatred and hatred will always come before corruption.”
Vetis’s hands clenched so tight his knuckles cracked. He forced himself to lower his gaze from the conceited fuck.
“Have I made myself clear?”
Vetis nodded, not allowing himself to speak.
“Go help the others.”
His boots squeaked as he walked to the door.
“And Vetis?”
He glanced over his shoulder.
“You piss me off one more time,” his words swept through the air and into Vetis’s ears as if he were standing in front of him again. “I’ll kill you.”
Emma woke in a dark room that was not her bedroom, Jenny’s spare room, or Sean’s. Moaning, she clutched her head with her hands, rubbing the temples with the pads of her fingers. Her head was killing her and her body ached. Did she have the flu?
“The headache will pass soon.”
A small scream of terror burst from her lips. She jerked to a sitting position. Her gaze bounced around the dark and she saw absolutely nothing. No light from underneath a door. Nothing from a window. It was couldn’t-see-the-hand-in-front-of-her-face dark. “Who’s there?” Emma’s voice shook as she uttered the stupid line. If someone had to ask who’s there they’d better start running because nine times out of ten they weren’t going to like the answer, especially if they were in a horror flick. With the night’s events rushing back in rapid succession, she was the main character in this scary mov
ie.
Adrenaline kicked in and she rolled to the side to get off the bed.
He. She. It moved, too. Emma quickly backtracked. The noise—not footsteps, more like a rush of air—also changed directions. On hands and knees, she crawled, hopefully, to the edge of the bed. Stumbling on it quicker than planned, Emma pitched over the side and fell to the floor with a grunt. Surging to her feet, she stumbled, legs deciding to take a break for a moment. Bastards. Light suddenly filled the room. It blinded her. Her hands shot up to cover her eyes. Shooting pains erupted in her skull like a knife stabbing her temples.
“I know,” the deep voice said softly. “Light will make the headache worse. I’m sure with Lucas’s interference and the bump on your head, the pain is doubled, but I can’t have you bumping into the furniture or falling off the bed anymore, can I?”
The speaker was a man. His voice was closer to her than she’d have thought with the light just flicked on. Near enough that his breath brushed across her face.
Her eyes snapped open. She gasped and stepped back. It was the man from downstairs. The one who’d felt the bump on her head. He was supposed to do something to her. Erase her memory? No that can’t be right. Emma took another step back and tripped on the corner of the bed.
The man caught her by the arms. “Are you always this clumsy?”
“No.” Shit. Don’t give any information. No matter how insubstantial. Concentrate on getting out of here.
Inhaling, she tried to get her bearings. To calm her ragged breaths. She wouldn’t faint. For the second time, apparently. The light still played with her temples like sticks to a drum, but not as intense as the knives. Did she have a fever? She was chilled to the bone and weak.
