by SF Benson
Ezekiel exhales loudly and rubs a hand over his face. “I sent her back to the Realm.”
“How?”
“Angels are celestial beings created from light. When we come to Earth, we inhabit bodies. If anything happens to the vessel, the light returns to the Realm,” he says.
“Care to tell me what happened to Azaria’s vessel?”
“I used my anthame.” He glances over at me. “Do I need to explain that too?”
“No.” When it comes to mystical weapons of destruction, no explanation needed. “Do you have it on you?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You know,” I reply flatly.
“It won’t work on your father if that’s what you’re thinking.” Ezekiel taps the steering wheel. “Don’t worry. If he gets out of hand, I do have my sword. I’m not opposed to sending his ass back to Hell.”
I shudder. The idea should satisfy me, but it doesn’t. I mean, the demon is my father. Shouldn’t I feel something for him? He gave me life. Shouldn’t I have some concern for his?
“Stop beating yourself up,” Ezekiel says. “None of us ask to be born. Ever read Scripture?”
“No. It wasn’t required reading in my household.”
Ezekiel chuckles. “I guess not. Let me enlighten you then. There’s a book in the Bible—it’s called Ephesians—that instructs parents not to provoke their children to anger. Instead, fathers are urged to discipline and bring their offspring up in the teachings of God.”
“I think that’s meant for humans,” I point out.
“Hey, you should know these things since you want to be human.” He side-glances at me. “My point, however, is your father failed as a parent. Daily torture is not the way to raise a child.”
I get the gist of Ezekiel’s words, but still… “Be that as it may, he’s my father.”
The angel roars with laughter. “You always sound like a pretentious prick when you talk?”
Clenching my fist, I say, “Do you have a problem with the way I talk?”
“Oh man, you and my brother must be punishment for something. The two of you are complete opposites. He’s the least formal angel I’ve ever known. And you?” Ezekiel stifles another outburst of laughter. “You’re so formal I bet Jeremiah had to salute you or some dumb shit before he touched your ass!”
Okay, that was funny. The image, however, is funnier. Stifling my laugh, I ask, “What was Jeremiah like growing up?”
“Like any other angel. But my brother was a great warrior. He could swing a sword better than most. He took out his fair share of demons. No offense.”
“None taken. Do you think he misses it?”
“The Realm or being an angel?”
“Both.”
“Hard to say. Jeremiah doesn’t talk about home. I’m sure if I asked him he’d deny it. My money says he does. He used to hang out with the archangels.” Ezekiel slows down for some interstate construction. “What was your life like as a kid? Full of nannies and maids?”
Heat rises to my cheeks. I must give off a sort of rich-kid vibe. “I didn’t see my parents much. They’d pawn me off to another relative when they went out at night. And yes, I had nannies. Someone had to watch over me during the time Mother and Father slept. As I grew older, I got to travel to far-off places. To be honest, I hated my life as a kid. Things didn’t get interesting until I got my powers.”
“Oh? How does that work? You wake up one morning and they pop up?”
I grin. “Pretty much. For incubi, we go from being disinterested in sex to horny all the time. All you can think about is getting laid.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad. There are worse things than fucking all the time.”
“You would think that.” I seriously doubt if this renegade angel lacks for female companionship. He kind of reminds me of that Australian actor who portrays the Norse god in that movie with the superhumans. “Eventually, it evens out and you stop being obsessed about sex.”
Ezekiel’s purses his lips before asking, “Did you love anyone before my brother?”
“You don’t beat around the bush.” I pause for a moment and stare out the window. “No. I’ve loved no one outside of my family. When you meet them, you might wonder why I’d have any emotion other than hate or disgust for them. I have friends I care about, but that’s it.”
“What do you see in Jeremiah?” Ezekiel rushes to add to his question before I can speak. “What I mean is what is it about him that appeals to you? After all, you are a demon.”
“Valid question.” I haven’t stopped thinking about it since Jeremiah and I broke up. “I see bits of myself in him. Jeremiah can be so caring, but he reserves a part of himself. He’s also blunt—a mannerism I wish I possessed. Best answer? Jeremiah is the man I wish I was. He makes me want to aspire to be greater than myself.”
“Shit. He deserves you.”
His comment gets no reply from me as I glance over at Ezekiel.
“I’m serious. He needs someone who recognizes his flaws but loves him despite it all.”
“I’m glad I get your approval,” I say.
“Let me meet that jackass of a father of yours, and then we’ll talk approval.” Ezekiel’s lips curl up into a smile. “Have to make sure you’re nothing like him.”
Somehow, I don’t think Ezekiel is joking.
It’s officially winter in Falls Creek. The red and gold leaves are gone from the trees, and it’s cold as fuck. It’s after three thirty in the morning when Ezekiel’s truck barrels down Main Street. The only place open is Balls Up—a sports bar and grill owned by Brady Romero, an alpha and a Council member.
“Where to?” Ezekiel asks as he waits for the red light to change.
“I need to see my grandfather, or this is all for nothing.” My eyes survey the area. “Pull into the parking lot of the sports bar. I’ll send him a text.”
Grandfather calls me—before I can finish my message and —as soon as Ezekiel pulls into a parking space. “What’s wrong, Colton?” Grandfather asks.
Nothing gets past him, even my arrival to town. “Did you know Father came to New York?”
“Yes. I tried to alert you, but you didn’t return my call. What do you need?”
“My true self so that I can settle my affairs.”
“If all my conditions are met, it can be done.”
Resting my head against the seat, I exhale. “Before Father intervened, they were. I have steady work. I’m writing music, and I have a job as a musician. I even have my own apartment. Plus, I’ve made a few friends.” Glancing at Ezekiel, I continue. “Close friends. As far as someone special… Father talked to him.”
“Say no more. We’ll discuss the implications of your wish when I see you.”
“I’m going to confront Father.”
“I didn’t expect that, but it’s overdue. Call me when you return to New York. I want to see for myself what you’ve accomplished. Your traveling companion will be able to see your true nature. You’ll maintain it for twenty-four hours. Use the time wisely.” Grandfather disconnects the call.
I return my phone to my pocket. I don’t feel different, but the lascivious look in Ezekiel’s eyes lets me know I’m back.
“Will you stop staring at me?” I ask.
He blinks his eyes. “Sorry. If Jeremiah could see what I see… Man, I don’t think you’d need to apologize for shit.”
Instead of comforting me, Ezekiel’s words upset me. It’s part of the reason why I don’t want to return to this life. Being an incubus means never knowing if attraction is because of who I am or how I look.
“Stop it!” I snap. “I need to find my father. Are you coming with me, or will you sit there drooling like an idiot?”
As if to clear his mind, Ezekiel shakes his head and rubs his brow. “Damn. What was that?”
“I’m back to my true self. You’ve experienced a little taste of Lilin allure. If I were trolling for a victim, you’d be caught and wouldn’t have even realized anything
happened,” I say plainly. “Frankly, it’s a royal pain in the ass. Take that any way you want.”
Hopping out of the cab, I stalk toward the bar. Ezekiel’s boots crash the pavement behind me.
“Wanna wait up?” He jogs up to my side and grasps my elbow. “I get it. This life pisses you off. But remember what’s waiting for you back in New York.”
“I hope he’s waiting.”
“He will be. You’ll see.” Ezekiel takes a look at the building and changes the subject. “I hope this place has good food. I’m starving.”
We take a seat at the counter. The bar is fairly empty this time of morning. Only a few humans allergic to sleep and supernaturals who prefer the wee hours occupy spaces. A beautiful brown-skinned woman comes over.
“Hey, Colt.” She flashes a huge grin at me. “Where have you been?”
“In New York.” I point toward Ezekiel. “Audra, meet a friend of mine.”
Before I can get the words out, Ezekiel leans over the bar and smiles. “Name’s Zeke. I’ve never met such a beautiful wolf.”
“And if you want to live to see another one, step back.” The boisterous voice belongs to Brady. He doesn’t appreciate anyone hitting on his female.
Audra laughs as Brady wraps an arm around her waist. “Colt claims their friends, but I’ve never known angels and Lilin to hang out together.”
Brady’s eyes narrow. “Sugar, wait for me in my office. I’ll take care of this.”
She kisses his cheek and walks off.
Brady’s gaze bounces between Ezekiel and me. “What’s going on, Colt? We haven’t seen you in what? Two months?”
“I was with my grandfather. Then, I went to New York. You know, spend enough time in Hell and even a rotting apple looks appetizing.”
The alpha holds his head back and laughs loudly. “Good one, Colt. I’m glad I haven’t had the experience. What can I get for you and your friend?”
I don’t like the way Brady says friend. Yet another reason why I won’t miss this town. Too many prejudices—humans who think they are better than each other, and supernaturals clinging to their own species like life preservers. What would life be like if we all got along? I’m not talking about a great kumbayah moment. I’m talking about supernaturals supporting each other instead of tearing each other apart.
It would be refreshing.
Ezekiel clears his throat. “How about a couple of beers? Do you serve steak or just burgers?”
Brady’s jaw works back and forth. “How do you want your steak?”
“Medium rare works for me.” Ezekiel glances over at me. “Your call, Colt.”
“Cook them the same.” Jerking my thumb toward a table in the corner, I say, “We’ll be over there.”
Brady nods with hooded eyes. He pours a couple of drafts and slides the glasses across the counter before going to the kitchen.
“What’s with him?” Ezekiel picks up his glass and follows me to the table.
“You hit on his mate. Brady is very possessive,” I say and take a sip of my beer.
“Maybe she should find a being without such a tight leash,” Ezekiel quips.
“That’s not happening. Audra and Brady have been together since high school. Their problem is they’re both alphas. Neither one of them will give up control to settle down.”
“Too bad.” Ezekiel takes a long sip and gazes around the bar. “So, what’s the plan?”
“After our meal, we go to my father’s lair. He’s expecting me. Word travels fast in this town.” I drag my finger along the condensation on the glass. “Are you ready to face my father?”
“I am. He’s a demon. I’ve fought them most of my life.”
“Father is no ordinary demon. He got to Jeremiah. He could get to you,” I warn.
Time slogs by before Brady comes over with our steaks. The charbroiled scent tickles my nose. The alpha, however, doesn’t speak when he drops off the plates. That’s a shame. I had the impression Brady had a spine and didn’t follow the crowd.
After he leaves, Ezekiel says, “The Najex got to Jeremiah because he’s weak. Being a fallen angel automatically makes one vulnerable to everything.”
“What about earlier? I got to you,” I point out.
“You caught me off-guard. I prepared myself as soon as I stepped out of the truck. It won’t happen again.” Ezekiel cuts into his steak.
For his sake and mine, I hope he’s right.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Colt
The Najex lair, home of my birth, sits in a park-like setting on the outskirts of town. Everyone in Falls Creek—humans and supernaturals alike—know to keep a distance from the Gothic Revival mansion. All four-stories are lit up like a fucking monument. To what? Evil? Shadows, many of them with hideous faces, play along the limestone walls and fancy turrets.
The ornate glass door swings open on its own. Ezekiel frowns and tightens his grip on his sword. I don’t have the heart to tell him the house knows who he is. If it doesn’t want him inside, he’ll never cross the threshold.
Jerking my head toward the hall, we move forward. Our footsteps echo through the large foyer. We stop at a large room on the left. In front of the oversized fireplace stands evil incarnate—my father.
“Wait here,” I say to Ezekiel. If he’s needed, he knows what to do. Hopefully, the house doesn’t sense his intentions.
Leaving Ezekiel at his post, I enter the dimly lit room.
“You know I don’t like to wait,” Father announces, a glass in his hand. He lifts the drink and takes a long sip of the amber liquid. The ice cubes bumping against each other remind me of the clanging of the chains binding souls in Hell.
Eerie.
I’m tempted to pour myself a snifter of brandy, but I need my wits about me. Instead, I cross the room and prop my ass against Father’s desk, a gesture he hates. “We need to clarify a few things, Father.”
He tosses back his drink and stares at me. “You’re right. For starters, get your ass off my desk.”
“I’m comfortable,” I say with more confidence than I feel.
Father takes a step in my direction. Metal whispering against its sheath grabs my attention. Father should be thankful I’m an incubus at the moment. All my senses intensify, and my gaze goes to Ezekiel standing at the door. Slowly, I swing my head from side to side. He returns his weapon to its sheath.
But Father is nobody’s fool. He heard the sound too. “You’ve sided with a Celestial against your own blood?”
“Now you speak to me of blood?” I rub my brow before dragging my hand through my hair. “Our kinship meant nothing to you when you tormented me.”
He waves a hand in the air, dismissing my statement. “It was meant to strengthen you. Look at Tiberius.”
“I don’t give a fuck about Tiberius,” I yell and push off the desk. Striding across the floor, my steps are sure. “But then again, maybe I should be like my cousin. Then, I could give you a punishment you deserve. Uncle Claudius got off easy.”
Father raises his hand, but this time I’m prepared as dark tendrils sneak down his fingers. Focusing all my anger and rage, the snippets of evil falter. They hang in mid-air for a scant moment before flying apart like sand on the breeze. My father’s eyes widen.
A cocky smile spreads over my face as I walk toward my father. “Surprised? After all this time, I figured it out. Fear attracts your ghouls. All I had to do was stop being afraid.”
Turning away from him, I head for the hall.
Before I reach the doorway, Father says, “Do you think you can walk away from me?”
“Yes, I can,” I reply over my shoulder. “I’m here to gather my belongings. If you have a problem with it, talk to Grandfather. He’ll pay you a visit soon.”
A shadow enters the room, and Tiberius emerges from it. His long, black hair covers his face. He flips it out of the way. The eager incubus is ready to pander to my father. “Uncle Khan, do you need anything?”
I stop as my gaze sh
ifts between my cousin and my father. “Tib, maybe you can help Father with his plans. As far as he’s concerned, I’m dead. Maybe you’ll prove worthy of taking over the family business.”
A cold, cynical smile slides across Tiberius’s gaunt face. “Rest in peace, cousin.”
Taking one last look at my father—a demon I feared for years—I say, “I will now.”
Even with Ezekiel’s help, it takes me an hour to pack all my clothes and stuff. If it weren’t for him, I’d be forced to take the car Father gave me—something I’d rather not do. There’s a knock at the door, and Ezekiel’s hand goes to his sword.
