His Dark Bond

by Anne Marsh

  Pull it together. That’s what he had to do. Focus on the fight. Afterward, maybe he could take in the incredible possibility of happily-ever-after. But to get there, he had to take care of Cuthah first. A quick look around the too-small office made it clear wings were a liability and not an asset in the confined space, so he needed to take the fight elsewhere. No problem.

  “He’s going to be here soon.” He pulled a blade from his belt. Nice and light, the edge was still killing sharp. “We’re clear on the plan, right? You stay here, nice and tight. Just in case, though, you’re taking this.”

  She didn’t hesitate, reaching out a hand to wrap her fingers gingerly around the handle of the blade.

  “You ever use one of these before?”

  When she shook her head, he gave her the 411 on the basics. “Keep the blade close to you. Both hands on the handle, point up. You need to wait until he’s real close. Last resort only, you got me? This is insurance, baby. I’m not letting Cuthah get past me.”

  She let him adjust her fingers on the handle until he was satisfied. “You’re going to stop him.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I will.” He had to. No way he’d let her fight his battles for him. Still, he’d feel better knowing she was armed.

  Holstering his weapons, he strode to the door and unlocked it. Cuthah would be gunning for him—he had no doubt of that. Plus, given Cuthah’s earlier meet-and-greet in Nessa’s lab, he figured the Dominion would be back real soon. So, the sooner Zer got into position and assessed the lab for a logical line of advance, the sooner he could get on with that happily-ever-after.

  Sure enough, the sonic boom of Cuthah opening a portal sent shock waves rippling out before Zer even had the door fully open. “You ready?”

  He felt rather than saw her nod.

  “Showtime, baby.” The building was shaking all around them, the power of Cuthah’s arrival threatening to bring the walls down around them. Furniture crashed across the hall, the particleboard walls bowing out from the pressure.

  “Be careful.” Her fingers stroked a little caress down his wings. “You hear me, Zer? Watch your back out there. I want you coming back to me.”

  Stopping, he cupped her face with his hand, pressing a hard kiss against her mouth. “I promise you, baby. I’m coming home.” Despite his promise, the anxious look on her face warned him his scientist was running the numbers in her head, and she didn’t like the odds.

  Well, that made two of them.

  “Cuthah has to take care of business here. We can blow his cover, baby. Blow it wide open. He’ll want to kill you more than ever now, because you’re a soul mate.”

  And she knew how to find more soul mates for the Fallen. Yeah, that little secret hung in the air between them. She was a walking, talking divining rod.

  For a hundred reasons, he had to stop Cuthah’s violence here. The memory of Esrene’s dead body taunted him, reminding him he’d failed the other female. He hadn’t protected her. He should have. Worse, Cuthah had used Esrene’s murder to manipulate Zer, leading to the expulsion of the Dominions.

  Yeah, it was time to even the score. And all he had to do was wait. Cuthah was hell-bent on reaching him and this female.

  He had to eliminate Zer once and for all, or everything he’d worked for went up in smoke.

  Cuthah exploded into the far end of the narrow hallway, a freight-train roar of wings and rage. Zer tucked Nessa back into a corner. “You do what we discussed.” His hand on her head pressed her beneath the desk. “You keep your head down. You don’t move.”

  Glass blew out of the exterior windows as Cuthah strode down the hallway, unleashing a lethal storm of glittering crystals.

  Inhaling sharply, she nodded and disappeared from sight. He knew she wanted to do something, anything. Sometimes, the hardest thing to do was to stand back and let someone else fight for you.

  Raising his blades, he strode to the doorway. All around him, the walls vibrated with power, and the floor rippled in long, slow waves. Like being trapped in the epicenter of an earthquake. He hoped like hell the building was less ancient than it looked. Before he could clear the door, the wall fronting the hallway exploded inward, and he lunged toward Cuthah, thrusting the blade with lethal force toward his enemy. His arms locked around Cuthah, pinning the bastard’s wings shut.

  Cuthah snarled, rage twisting his face. “Thought I’d flush you out here.” He turned, slamming Zer into the wall.

  Unfortunately, hiding beneath her desk and her newly wall-less office, Nessa had a ringside view of the violence. And there was no mistaking the cold promise of death filling Cuthah’s eyes.

  “Wings? Nice try,” Cuthah sneered.

  In a blur of speed, Zer went at Cuthah, bringing his first blade straight up and down. If Cuthah had been human, he would have been dead. Instead, he ducked, closing the space between them once again. Her breath caught, but Zer sprang away and resumed his circling. In the next moment, they were driving their blades at each other with vicious, deadly intent. Eyes locked. Arms and shoulders slamming into each other with each powerful strike. Their wings tangled, beating a harsh drumbeat accompaniment for the battle.

  Zer’s eyes locked on his opponent’s, his face a harsh mask of determination. Driving his body into Cuthah’s, he sent the other angel staggering into the far wall.

  Cuthah just took the punishment, shaking off the blow and launching himself back into the fight. “That the best you can do?”

  God, they were evenly matched.

  Pressed up against the imitation-wood panels of her hidey-hole, she couldn’t take her eyes off the fight or the deadly beauty of the two impossibly large bodies pummeling each other. Wood cracked as they crashed through a wall.

  “I can do better,” Zer growled harshly. Leaping at his opponent, he landed his blade, carving a deep furrow in Cuthah’s forearm. Cuthah hissed and staggered, his lips tightening in a rictus of pain as he backhanded Zer with his other arm, the metal handle of his blade catching Zer on the cheekbone.

  Agony blazed through their bond, leaving her shaking before Zer abruptly cut off the connection. God, she didn’t know how he could stand the pain. She tried to pour love and support through the bond. She didn’t know if he could feel it or not, but she needed to do something.

  Zer got to his knees. That was good, right? His skin was turning purple where Cuthah had struck him.

  “Ready to die?” Cuthah taunted.

  Zer’s second strike drew blood from Cuthah’s now-useless hand. He’d cut through sinews and tendons to expose the white gleam of bone. “Not yet,” he grunted.

  Stepping forward, he swung the blade in an even, horizontal line. Cuthah countered as if he were hefting a baseball bat. Reversing direction, Zer cut at Cuthah’s other side, scoring a long, shallow cut. Eventually, Cuthah had to feel it, but when?

  Damned if she was going to sit here underneath a desk while her mate got his ass killed in front of her. Eyes narrowing, she assessed the situation. She wasn’t naïve enough to think she could do anything to help with his fight against Cuthah. Not unless she had a rocket launcher tucked into her hidey-hole. Which she didn’t. Oversight, there.

  There was no time to formulate another plan. Cuthah vaulted into the room and over the desk, filling the space between her and the wall. Adrenaline pumped uselessly through her body, her heart making the impossible leap from her chest to her throat.

  “Well, hello, darling,” he purred. “I believe it’s time you came out to play.” Reaching under the desk, he wrapped a hand in the fabric of her blouse and dragged her up, pinning her against his body.

  Cursing, she kicked desperately at his legs. There was no way she could reach the blade Zer had given her. She wanted to spit with frustration.

  “No,” she choked out, before his arm tightened ruthlessly around her throat. Spots of color danced in front of her eyes as the oxygen fled her lungs.

  Cuthah laughed, giving her body a little shake. “Just like before, isn’t it?”
he taunted Zer. “Here I am. There you are. And you don’t get to me unless you go through her.” When he took a step backward, she went with him.

  “Trust me,” Zer said out loud, and she had just a moment to wonder if the message was for Cuthah—or for her.

  In the next moment, Zer thrust his blade through Nessa.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Oh, God. The first two breaths were an agony, her lungs struggling to keep up the inhale-and-exhale routine even as the blade erupted through her heart and out her back, and the sight of Zer’s face only made the pain worse. His eyes never met hers, never left the traitorous Dominion standing behind her, his arm locked around her neck. The sharp curse behind her was the last thing she heard before her body shut down and gave up the losing battle.

  Her spirit rose up and out, clearly done with her body. She fought panic for a moment. This was going to be okay. It had to be okay. Still, she couldn’t stop staring at her body. Zer’s blade had pierced her heart, gone straight through her and planted the business end of all that metal deep in Cuthah’s own body. She supposed that should have been satisfying, but nothing could have prepared her for the sheer horror of watching her body slide down that ruthless blade, the unmistakably bad sign of blood everywhere.

  She wanted to say something, because this was the moment she was supposed to go all poetic, wasn’t it? She knew instinctively that she had maybe seconds left, and somehow that time needed to count for something. But there was no way to shoehorn a lifetime of emotion—of living—into the handful of seconds she had left. Instead, all she got out was his name—and damned if it didn’t sound more like a prayer—and then she was sucked ruthlessly away by an unseen power. As if she’d been wrapped in warm, bright cotton wool, she shot up and out of her body and the lab as if she’d spent a lifetime waiting for this moment.

  Oh, God. She really was dead.

  Air popped around her as her feet hit ground, depositing her somewhere unfamiliar. Instinctively, she knew she wasn’t in the world anymore. There was nothing, however, that could have prepared her for her first sight of the Heavens, the wide, low plain spreading away from her. By now, Zer had to know what he’d done. He had to have seen the damage he’d done to her. Did he care? She had to believe that he did. Tentatively, she tested their bond. The connection was stretched thin, vibrating with tension. Like listening to a tinny, overseas phone call on some Third World infrastructure. Hold on.

  She waited, but there was no further message from the other side. Okay. Looking cautiously around, she took in the intense, saturated colors of the plain. The air was warm but not too warm. On the horizon, a silver and glass city soared up into the sky. And the sky, God, the colors of the sky made her wish she’d been a painter and not a geneticist. Words didn’t begin to do the azure sky justice.

  Mountains surrounded the plain, and it looked as if the cosmic express she’d just taken had punched straight through the dark rock. That ride had seemed to last forever and yet take no time at all. Maybe that was how death worked. It wasn’t as if she’d done this before.

  The sound hit her first. A pretty little melody of birds singing. There was wind, too. Exactly like one of those relaxation soundtracks they sold down at the drugstore. Too perfect. Her body was all light and ghostlike. When she held her hands up in front of her face, she could see right through them. Definitely, not one of her better days.

  She wanted to go back. She wanted Zer.

  The soft beat of wings approaching convinced her now was not a good time for self-pity. She needed to pick a plan and get with it. Because, when her head came up, there was a glowing angel winging toward her. She didn’t know if her day was about to get better—or worse.

  God, she didn’t know what to do.

  She wanted to just sit down and think things through, but time was a luxury she sensed she didn’t have. Zer was fighting for his life, and she couldn’t bear the thought of his losing. She hadn’t been able to do anything for him. She looked behind her, and it was like looking through the wrong end of a kaleidoscope, an unearthly window into the hellhole of her office.

  From her office came a low, guttural sound that reminded her of a wounded animal and a keen of metal on metal like nails on a chalkboard. The sound advertised, loud and clear: death coming here. She could almost smell the thick, coppery scent of blood in the air. At least Zer finally had backup. As she stared at the unfolding picture, Vkhin and Nael joined Zer, fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with him like medieval warriors. The heavy blades flashed in their hands, the muscles bunching in their shoulders as they slowly pushed their way forward. Each brutal blow shivered the air, and there was dark purpose in their eyes. They had their fighting faces on. They were not Goblins but not quite human either. Dominions.

  The wing beats stopped, so she whipped her head back around, praying the strange window stayed put. She couldn’t bear losing that tenuous connection to Zer. The angel facing her was massively broad-shouldered, a golden-skinned threat whose dark blond hair had been cropped close to the beautiful planes of his skull in a brutal trim. His eyes were a window into hell. Dark. Fiery. Tormented. He looked over her shoulder and into her window on the familiar.

  “What do you here, soul mate?”

  That voice scared the piss out of her. It sounded like the end of the world. The deep basso was way beyond cold. Emotionless and ancient, that tone warned her that this new companion simply didn’t give a damn about the events unfolding around her.

  And she’d thought the Fallen were emotionless. This angel made them look all touchy-feely, filled with the warm fuzzies.

  “Believe me,” she said carefully, “I’m none too sure of that myself. One minute, I’m standing there in my office, and the next I’m being skewered like a shish kebab, and there’s a hell of a pop, and here I am.”

  The angel seemed to look at her for the first time. His gaze traveled down over her torn blouse and skirt. Paused for a moment to take in the silvery ghost blood painting her chest. “You are a soul mate,” he said again.

  “News flash.” She tugged at her blouse. “That doesn’t seem to have mattered.”

  “Does your soul mate still live? With whom did you bond?” The angel stepped closer to her. Close enough for her to reach out and touch the blindingly white feathers on the massive pair of wings jutting from his back. The wings stirred, disturbing the air. Maybe, Mr. High-and-Mighty wasn’t as laid-back as he appeared.

  He sounded like he wanted the scoop on what was unfolding back down there in her lab.

  “My soul mate is the one who ran me through. He killed me.”

  The angel jerked backward. “Impossible.”

  “Ummm. No.” She indicated the blood-stained front of her blouse. “Does this look like a wound someone could survive? And now, somehow, I’m here.”

  “He cannot kill you because you cannot die. Not while you are bonded to him and he lives.” The angel’s wings beat harder.

  “And you know this, how?” Because if that was all true, maybe he could send her home.

  “Because”—his ancient gaze looked through her—“I am Michael.”

  Diplomacy could wait. “This is all your fault.” She took a step forward, anger bubbling up inside her. Zer was down there, fighting for his life. And she was here. She was sick and tired of feeling helpless. “You’re the one who condemned the Fallen three thousand years ago. You kicked them out of the Heavens, ripped off their wings, and exiled them. I don’t give a damn what you thought they’d done—you were wrong. They didn’t deserve the shit storm you handed them.”

  She whirled, gesturing toward the otherworldly picture window on her previous life. “Don’t you dare close that. Look at what is happening, and tell me you think this is right.”

  Zer was fighting like a berserker now, his eyes cold and gleaming. As he whirled, he brought his blade up, and a thick crimson line blossomed on Cuthah’s chest. Cuthah jerked backward, cursing, and a blade flashed in his own hand. The two edges met, and
she fought not to cringe. Not to close her eyes.

  The angel moved closer, frowning. “My Dominions are fighting with one of my lieutenants. What is it that you want me to do here?”

  “I want you to listen to the truth!” she cried. “Whatever it is you think the Fallen did, they didn’t do it. Zer told me that someone was killing off your females.”

  “Brutally.” Michael inclined his head. “Zer is your soul mate?”

  She scrubbed at the dark marks encircling her wrists. “Yes. Yes, he is.”

  “He was also the leader of the Dominions,” the angel continued implacably. “He was responsible for all of their actions. He led them against me.”

  “Because he believed you were a cold-blooded killer!”

  The angel shot her a hard look. “But I am. We all are. You know very little of the Dominions, human. We are bred to kill. To defend. We guard the Celestial throne. We vow to do that with our last breath, no matter what it takes.”

  “Well, did your no-matter-what-it-takes require innocent females to die? Because that’s what Zer and the Fallen believed. They believed you were responsible for Esrene’s death and the others.”

  Michael stared at her expressionlessly. “I did not do that.”

  “You said you were a killer.”

  He shrugged. “I spoke more generally. I did not kill Esrene or the others, but I ought to have known what was happening.”

  “You ought to have known that your lieutenant was a psychotic nut job. How could you let the Dominions Fall without concrete evidence?”

  “There was evidence.” She filed this away for future reference.

  “Okay. So what about an appeal? Undoing the sentence you passed?”

  “Not possible.” He looked over at her. “You are the second chance, human. When a Fallen finds his soul mate, he is redeemed.”