by A. K. Koonce
It doesn’t.
It feels…. incredibly fucking anxious. It’s more pressing than the war I’m currently sitting in the front row at.
“What?” I finally ask a bit too loudly. I swallow hard when all three men flinch. “I meant, what are you thinking?”
All of us look to Saint, and he takes us in one at a time, an awkward smile pulling at his normally so composed features.
“I—nothing.” He shakes his head and rolls his pretty blue eyes at himself. “I am not thinking a single fucking thing,” he says on a drawn-out sigh. “Actually…” He rushes toward me, but the door behind him slams open with a gust of wind.
And Phoenix stands there, his shoulders filling the doorframe. His eyes shine with manic triumph.
“The vampires are here,” he says with a growing smile.
My heart soars at the sight of him. I take a step toward him, but he’s looking over his shoulder, through the open door.
He doesn’t explain more. He doesn’t say what took him so long or why his jeans are wet and dirty. He simply steps aside like he has a grand reveal to make.
A thin man with impossible posture strides forward. His gaze never veers. He keeps his attention leveled on me. And the two men behind him hold the same disdain in their eyes.
As does Saint’s father, when he glides toward me like blood trickling across stone. I don’t fidget beneath his stare.
Heaven slinks in with Sasha and stands behind the small crowd of vampires.
No one says a word. They all wait.
For their leader.
“Izara Castillo,” Mr. Von Hunter says, gleaming blue eyes shining in the moonlight. “My sweet daughter told me my son was in… a bit of trouble.” A hint of a smile cracks his face. “It seems she may have understated that just slightly.”
I meet his arrogance head on, but I do take my time to say my words very carefully. Because we need him. We need him and his army more than we need anyone else.
Possibly more than Azazel.
“A portal to hell has been unleashed on the academy. Sir.” I barely remember my manners. I don’t think I’ve ever called anyone sir in my entire life, but I will sir the fuck out of him for the rest of my days if he agrees to help me.
“Unleashed how?” he asks with a narrowed, slicing gaze.
I shift on my feet but speak clearly. “Professor Shade… he’s my father. He’s…”
“The devil,” Mr. Von Hunter finishes. “He’s Lucian Morningstar. Isn’t that right?”
He says it so plainly, as if we’re just discussing the weather.
I nod.
“Yes. Well. My ancestors have meddled in Lucian’s life once before. We gained nothing from it. Nothing. And I won’t risk all that I’ve built without a gain in return. A smart man never does something for nothing.” He arches an eyebrow at me slowly, as if I have a counteroffer to lay on the table.
I have nothing. Fucking nothing.
“We need you,” I whisper slowly. “If you won't do it for the academy, do it for your son. Do it for the city that will soon enough be in Morningstar’s path if you do nothing,” I square my shoulders, but the vampire simply shakes his head.
“Do you think I haven’t already done enough for the academy, as well as my son, Miss Castillo?” He turns on his heels, his long black coat wafting around him. “And as for New York City, it’s exactly as its name portrays. New. It’s the elder, wiser empires that last. And we’ll be here long after Lucian’s little war has ended.”
He’s gone with a swish of his coat. And his vampires trail along right after him. Even Heaven scurries behind them. Sasha looks after the woman and chases her down the dark stairwell, their steps not making a single sound in the night.
Unlike my hammering heart.
“Fuck!” My scream matches the roars of hellions below.
“We’re fucked,” Phoenix says under his breath.
Syko nods.
Malek hums a sound of agreement.
And Saint… Well, Saint just continues to be Saint, I guess.
“Phoenix, I love you!” His tone is an urgent sound that makes everyone stop, taking their stress right along with them as we turn to look at the wide-eyed vampire. “I should have told you that years ago. I should have—I should have let you in. We should have let each other in,” he professes.
…Did I fall from this demonic war right into a Jonas Brothers love song?
Phoenix glances nervously at me, as if I might save him from the emotional overload that’s happening right now. His big hand lifts toward his friend. “I love you too,” the incubus says slowly, “but did you happen to see your dad turn his back on us just now? Did you… notice that he took his army with him?”
Saint’s smirk curls at one side as he looks at the incubus he clearly loves. He really didn’t have to say it. I’ve known it since the moment I met them.
“I’m used to my father turning his back on us. I’m not used to telling people I care about them.” The vampire’s charming smile stays in place as his attention drifts.
And he sets his sights on me.
Oh no. I see a trend here.
He’s chosen his next victim. He’s going to make a loud and distracting declaration of love and devotion, and we will never get back to the real issues at hand here.
“Saint, don’t,” I say so low it barely comes out. It only makes his amusement grow. He starts to prowl toward me. His steps are a flawless glide of movement, like not even the ground exists when he’s present.
“Izara Castillo…” The way he enunciates my name is more eerie than romantic.
We do not have time for a Saint performance right now.
“Saint,” I warn, my tone growling and hinting and saying please, please get back to the fucking task at hand.
A rumbling laugh hums through the air, and I can just feel Syko watching us with a big smile on his face.
The nephilim asshole.
Saint’s corded arms and his bare chest skim against me as he cages me in against the rooftop balcony. His entire body is made for sex and distractions, and the war down below doesn’t care about either right now.
“When I first saw you”—his eyes are big with reminiscence—“I thought you were the most beautiful fucking feck I’d ever—”
“Saint, I love you. I do. We all do. Even Malek,” I say in a rush, and despite trying to get this over with, my hands settle on his smooth chest, just near the sharp lines of the cross tattoo along his neck.
“Even Malek?” His dark eyebrows lift high, like Malek’s love is somehow worth more than mine.
“Even Malek?” Malek echoes, one dark eyebrow arched.
Oh my god, guys. Please. Please work with me here.
Saint’s smile turns taunting, and my fingers drift to his mouth at his cutting amusement. He lives for entertainment. And for just a moment, I love that he’s distracted me to the point of obliviousness to the terrible world around us.
“Say it again,” he whispers against my lips.
A shiver thrums through me as his palms press firmly to my lower back, melding my hips perfectly to his.
“I love you, Saint.” My heart quivers as I say those tiny but monumental words to him. Does he feel it? Does he feel how unsteady he makes my very soul?
His lips brush mine slowly, and it’s the most addicting almost-kiss of my entire life. “I love you too,” he says just before his tongue flicks sensually against mine and he claims me fully right there in front of the fire of hell and the destruction all around us.
Long fingers dig into my skin as biting teeth rake across my lip. Euphoric pleasure surges through me as his tongue slides across a drop of blood. He consumes me just like that.
Suddenly the fact that we’re alone in all of this, the reminder that no one cares what happens to the lost Prods of Academy of Six, it all feels pressing in a totally different way. And for a moment, I don’t want to think about it.
All I want is Saint Von Hunter.
Saint’s mouth trails lower, down my neck, nipping over my dress at my breasts and nipples before he drops to his knees like he might worship between my thighs.
When he tears the material away from me entirely, the person behind me slides his fingers along my jaw and brings my mouth to his. My heartbeat trembles when my gaze meets deep golden eyes from over my shoulder.
Malek’s eyes.
He smiles at me slowly before pressing his lips lightly over mine.
“Surprised, mi corazón?” Those rumbling words flick against my tongue as I kiss him harder. Deeper.
We’ve come so far from the bickering Prods who were thrown together in a tiny dorm. These men really are my family. I care about them more than I care about anything else in this world.
And they show me every day that they feel the same way.
I turn, twisting slightly to feel as much of his hard body as possible while Saint holds my hips and ever so slowly pulls my panties down. Cold air skims my thighs, but warm breath follows in its wake. He lingers in front of me while Malek holds me firmly from behind, their hands skimming up and down my hips, my thighs, my…
I gasp against Malek’s lips. Their fingers slide in conflicting, different directions against my pussy. I jerk beneath the firm press of their touch, and before I can shift anymore, strong hands grip my hips. I pull back from the rolling, stroking tongue of the werewolf to find another man in front of me. Phoenix stands at an angle near Saint but almost right in front of me.
“Hold still, feck,” he says in a low, commanding tone. The smile on his lips is a sinful look of salacious want.
But I’m suddenly reminded of something else. His warm lips and a devilish tongue press to the low curve of my neck. Saint’s mouth closes over my clit as well as Malek’s fingers, and both of them stroke me as I try desperately hard to remember the thought rolling around in the darkness of my lust-filled mind right now.
“Azazel—” The thought cuts away immediately as Saint slides two fingers into my opening and massages me right where he knows I like it.
A gasping moan trembles on my lips, but Phoenix’s gaze is no longer filled with desire.
“Did… did you just say that fuck’s name right now?” He jerks me to his chest, but I only thrust harder against Saint’s tormenting mouth. “I don’t like the way he keeps going out of his way for you.” There’s a hard tone to Phoenix’s words. The look in his darkening eyes is even harsher.
He’s jealous. Jealousy might be the only emotion Phoenix ever accidently grasped while being a soulless.
So he’s incredibly good at it.
“He’s— He—” I try to get the words out, but Saint only fucks me harder with his fingers, his tongue, his everything.
Phoenix’s hands hold me tighter, and just as the tightening feeling in my core pulses, threatening to combust, he lifts me from Saint’s orgasm-inducing mouth. He carries me from the two men, and the rumbling growl of Malek follows us as he walks away.
“I won’t share you,” Phoenix declares adamantly once he has my attention.
His hands lift my thighs higher against his hips, and he makes sure to lock my legs in place around him so nearly every part of me is against him.
My mind clears just slightly, even if my breath never calms.
“You won’t share her?” Syko asks from over my shoulder. His chest warms my back as he settles in against me. His hand slips between mine and Phoenix’s hips, and he slides his fingers down my sex, his hand rocking steadily against the incubus’s hard outline hidden beneath his jeans. “Hate to break it to you, but you already share her.” I watch the nephilim’s dark eyes as he rolls his fingers over my clit hard before lifting his hand to his mouth and ever so slowly sliding two fingers across his lips to suck my essence into his mouth.
Phoenix’s eyes heat before he narrows them on the man behind me. “You know what I fucking mean.”
“No. I don’t.” Syko rests his head adorably against my shoulder. “Maybe you should explain it to the other three men who share in your relationship with Izara.”
Saint snorts charmingly from behind us, but it doesn’t ease the annoyance in Phoenix’s features.
“I—I can’t compete with a fucking angel. You three fucks are so imperfect it makes me look good every goddamn day. But an angel? Who can fucking deal with that? Izara and him are practically meant to be together. They’re perfect for each other.” Phoenix says all that while holding me hard against him like he’ll never let me go.
“Well… perfect except he’s my uncle, Phoenix. He’s helping me because we’re family. And he doesn’t want to see me end up like him.”
His eyebrows shoot up. A lightbulb flickers on among all that jealous insecurity.
My palm skims up his strong jawline, and I try to push away all the confusing emotions written all over his handsome face. Insecurity is possibly the most human emotion of them all.
My sweet asshole demon does have a soul.
He’s always had one.
“Sorry,” he whispers.
But I kiss the word away.
“I want to know what Azazel told you to tell me.” I shift higher in his arms, and when I rock against him, he groans low in his throat. His fingers dig into my ass, and I’m suddenly aware Syko is pushing the material of my ripped dress up higher and higher, before pulling it from my body entirely.
Heated attention warms my naked body from all angles.
I asked for an explanation, but it looks like Phoenix only knows how to explain the valleys and dips of my curves at the moment.
“Azazel said…” The incubus’s deep eyes narrow, and whatever he’s trying to remember doesn't seem that terribly important. “He said… you need two sides.” He nods slowly, but I don’t know that he actually believes what he’s relaying to me right now.
“Two sides?” I try to make sense of that. “Like him and the vampires? I need them both?” My heart sinks, thinking about it all, and my hands drop suddenly to my sides.
All of this feels impossible.
Gargoyles swoop above us, too focused on the bloodshed down below to see me watching them. I feel like the dark skies above them are pressing down on me.
We’ll never fix what I’ve so stupidly screwed up.
Warm hands brush against my stomach, but Syko never drifts down between my thighs. Instead, he unclasps Phoenix’s pants. The demon’s eyebrows rise, but he doesn’t speak as he looks from me to the nephilim behind me, not even when Syko shoves down the other man’s jeans and guides the head of his cock against my wetness.
“Just forget all that for a little while,” Syko whispers against my ear, his words fanning intimately across my skin.
My breath catches as I watch his big palm stroke down Pheonix’s shaft before his fingers tease my sex just lightly, dragging right back up the veiny path of the demon’s cock before doing it all over again. He teases us both, makes us both moan and grind against one another simply from the way he touches us.
Only a few seconds pass before Phoenix lifts me abruptly and then he’s right there. His thickness skims my entrance, and he holds my gaze with every slow shift of our hips. Inch by inch he fills me. My mouth hovers and gasps over his, and he just breathes in every desperate sound that falls from my lips.
His hips work slowly against mine, and Syko holds me for him. The nephilim’s hands cradle my ass, spreading even more for the even strokes of his friend’s cock. The two of them tighten the energy in my core until it’s wound so fast together that I can barely catch my breath.
When Syko groans hard against my neck, I lo
ok back toward him and find Saint there too. The vampire’s hand is lowered out of sight, but I see the flex of his biceps with every up and down movement of his hand. His shining blue eyes catch mine, and he kisses my shoulder sweetly, as if he’s not doing anything dirty at all. It only takes a moment before he sinks those sharp fangs in.
It’s the pierce of pain and pleasure that collide in symphonies of waves throughout my body. It slams orgasm after orgasm through me with a single bite of his teeth.
As I tremble between the other two men, the vampire slides his tongue slowly across his perfect white teeth. “My teeth are better than your cock, incubus. Your kind would be so embarrassed right now.” Saint’s other hand slides down the hard abs of the demon’s chest and then drifts down his body even lower. And lower. And lower.
Phoenix’s lashes flutter, but he never replies.
He only fucks me harder, a primitive growl shaking his chest.
Something warm ghosts across my skin and then drifts into me. Deep within me.
I gasp from the feel of it twirling through my chest. It’s like ribbon dancing in the breeze. It sways and drifts. It slinks through me. It’s the lightest touch along my nerves. A faint breath of magic.
Incubus magic.
It plays there within my chest, skimming my abdomen, brushing along my nipples before diving hard toward my center, colliding through me and slamming hard into the sensitive flesh of my g-spot.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I gasp, nails digging deep into Phoenix’s taut shoulders as my release wreaks havoc on my mind, body, and soul.
He just hums his approval with a groan of his own before slamming in hard and stilling against me. His temple rests against mine, and I love the way he’s looking at me. Like he’s seeing every single thing I’ll ever be.
We’ll ever be.
But Syko pulls me away before I can say any of that.
He pulls my hand and leads me closer to him. His beautiful, haunting dark eyes shine, and he stares at me like there’s something he wants to say but doesn’t know how.
