The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance 2

by Trisha Telep

  Eve’s guard went up. Raguel’s job on earth was to manage the infestation of Infernals in North America. Why would a cherub intercede? And why wasn’t Raguel more upset about that? All the archangels were intensely ambitious. It didn’t make sense for him to concede any power to anyone, even an angel of considerably higher rank. “I get that pairing him with me instead of giving him a full contingent of your personal guards sends a message that you’re annoyed, but as far as impact goes, it’s more of a ‘meow’ than a ‘roar’.”

  “I send no message,” Raguel denied, attempting to look innocent, which was impossible.

  “Right.” Diplomacy and showmanship were utilized just as often in the celestial underground as they were in the secular world. The cherubim topped the angelic hierarchy. Even the seraphim ceded rank to them. Exposing such a high-level celestial to her bad demon karma was stupid enough to have a really clever motive behind it. “I asked for you.”

  The rumbling masculine voice was dangerously soft. Eve turned her head, knowing a small, childlike figure just didn’t fit that mature voice but she was still unable to shake the image of a chubby baby with tiny wings and a big diaper.

  Catching sight of Zaphiel, she blinked. Holy shit.

  He was massive. Ripped with muscle and terribly beautiful, with eyes of the same blue hue found at the heart of a flame, and golden hair that hung past his shoulders. Fan-fuckin-tastic. There was only one reason angels and demons went out of their way to get to her: they wanted to irritate the two men in her seriously screwed-up romantic life – Cain and Abel. They went by the names Alec Cain and Reed Abel in present day, but they were the infamous brothers of biblical legend nevertheless.

  She glanced at Gadara. “This really isn’t a good idea.”

  The archangel smiled. That flash of pearly white teeth within the framework of coffee-dark skin told her he had an ulterior motive for agreeing.

  “I have every faith in you,” he said, practically purring.

  Oh boy. Not too long ago (back in her old life) working for Gadara Enterprises had been a career dream of hers. Raguel Gadara was a real estate mogul rivalling Donald Trump and Steve Wynn, with property developments all over North America just begging for an interior designer of Eve’s calibre. In reality, however, the dream turned into a nightmare. Her years of interior design education and experience had been relegated to the sidelines of her “real” job: demon bounty hunting.

  “Time to go, Evangeline,” Zaphiel said, jerking his head imperiously toward the private elevator that would take them down to the lobby level. The deliberate use of her name cemented the suspicion that she was – yet again – being used as a pawn in a bigger game.

  It was a game she didn’t play well; something the cherub would be figuring out soon.

  Eve stood. In her former life, she’d be sporting Jimmy Choo stilettos and a svelte pencil skirt. As a Mark – one of thousands of sinners cursed with the Mark of Cain – she was wearing Doc Martens and worn jeans. The thick, straight black hair she’d inherited from her Japanese mother was pulled back in a simple ponytail. Dressing for the job was 24/7; Marks never knew when they’d be called out to vanquish a rogue demon.

  She walked to the cherub, expecting him to shift/teleport them to wherever it was he wanted to go, but he just smiled smugly.

  “You will drive me,” he pronounced.

  “O-kay . . .” Moving on to the elevator, she pressed the call button.

  Within minutes, they were buckling into her red Chrysler 300. When she glanced at him for directions, he told her to drive toward Anaheim Hills. As he spoke, a pair of sunglasses appeared on his face, reminding her that he was yanking her chain by making her drive to their destination.

  She pulled out of the shadows of the subterranean parking lot and into the bright Southern California sunshine. Grabbing her Oakley sunglasses from the centre console, she put them on.

  “Why are you not with Cain?” he asked.

  “He’s busy and I’m babysitting you.”

  His lips pursed at the dig. “I am not speaking of the present moment. You are in love with him, yet you are not involved with him romantically.”

  She made no effort to deny her feelings. It would have been pointless, considering how pivotal her prior relationship with Alec was to the existing state of the Marked system. “It’s too complicated, and none of your business.”

  Cain was the original and most bad-assed Mark of them all. He functioned outside the Marked system hierarchy as an autonomous hunter taking orders directly from the Almighty. He was a revered and polarizing figure for other Marks, a lofty and undefeated ideal that each of the archangels longed to exploit for their own advancement. Eve’s attachment to Gadara’s firm came with Cain as a bonus. Cain gave the archangel a massive advantage over his fellow firm leaders.

  “I could further your cause,” the cherub said. “Cain’s advancement to archangel was only supposed to be temporary.”

  Her grip on the steering wheel whitened her knuckles. “Don’t you dare take that promotion away from him and blame it on me! Alec is right where he wants to be.”

  “Without you? The archangels are barred from feeling romantic love.”

  “I’m sure there’s a reason for that.” Her voice was tight and she made a concerted effort to relax. Zaphiel was rubbing salt in her wounds, knowing damn well that she’d broken things off with Alec because he was no longer capable of loving her the way he used to. He admired her, lusted after her and was determined to remain faithful to her, but her unreciprocated love was a huge liability to them both. “Killing demons has a high mortality rate, if you hadn’t noticed.”

  “That is not why you resist the attraction. Perhaps Abel’s affections are enough to console you?”

  She stomped on the brakes. The car behind them lay on the horn and swerved around her with tyres squealing.

  Don’t let him get to you, Reed Abel warned, his thoughts crossing over the connection that existed between Marks and the mal’akhs – common angels – who meted out their Infernal-hunting assignments. Like the American judicial system, there were bondsmen (the archangels), dispatchers (mal’akhs), and bounty hunters (Marks like her). It was a well-oiled system for the most part. It was her rotten luck that her romantic entanglements with Cain and Abel made her the squeaky wheel.

  Easier said than done, she shot back.

  Zaphiel is always a prick. Despite the subject matter, Reed’s velvety smooth voice was a delight to hear.

  Her not-quite-a-relationship with Alec Cain’s brother was one of the many complexities in her life. Alec had ridden into her life on a Harley when she was almost eighteen and by the time he left, he’d taken her virginity and her heart. She was still comparing other men to him ten years later when Reed Abel entered her life and branded her with the Mark of Cain. That had been the start of a triangular relationship she’d once thought would be impossible for her. How could she feel so strongly for Reed when she was absolutely certain that Alec Cain was the love of her life?

  “I would prefer that you not injure yourself unnecessarily,” Zaphiel said calmly.

  Twisting in her seat to face him, she asked with equal calm, “What’s your problem?”

  “I have no problem.”

  “I’m a single unit. Got it? Not that you need to know, but asking about Cain and Abel is pointless. They’ve got their personal lives, and I have—”

  “—none,” he finished.

  “Drop it. Now.” Alec was her mentor, her friend and one of only a handful of people in her Marked life whom she trusted to have her best interests at heart. He was an integral, daily part of her life; they shared the same sort of mental connection she had with Reed. Through that bond, she felt the wall inside him that blocked his love from her. It was the worst sort of torture to be linked to him, yet farther apart than they’d ever been.

  Smiling, Zaphiel looked forwards. “I will say no more.”

  With an imperious wave of his hand, he directed for her
to continue. Eve fumed for the next quarter of an hour until they began to climb the side of a steep hill. Then her attention was caught by the size and elegance of the mansions they passed on their ascent to the top. The space between homes grew wider until they stopped seeing any houses at all. The last mile was marked only by the road.

  Eventually, they reached a gate that blocked further public access. A guardhouse stood on the right from which a burly male in an athletic suit stepped out. Zaphiel lowered the window and his sunglasses disappeared, revealing his face. Wary recognition shadowed the guard’s features before he stepped back and hit the remote that opened the two heavy wrought-iron gates.

  The drive up to the main house from that point was at least a half-mile. Security cameras were prominently positioned along the way in gaps of approximately twenty feet. When the manse itself came into view, Eve was so taken by the simplistic beauty of its organic architecture that her foot lifted from the gas pedal and the car decelerated to a gentle rolling stop behind a silver Bentley. The residence scaled the side of the hill in three tiers that boasted wide wrap-around balconies. Distressed wood siding, rock terraces and exposed wooden beams enabled the house to blend into its surroundings.

  Zaphiel exited the car. Eve turned the engine off and jumped out, catching his questioning gaze over the roof.

  “I’m going in with you,” she said preemptively. Her interior design sensibilities were sharply engaged by the cohesiveness between the building and its surroundings. She was eager to examine the interior but, more than that, he’d dragged her all the way out here. Maybe having her play chauffeur, followed by irritating her in the car had been the reasons for that – she wouldn’t put the desire for petty amusements past any angel – but she damn sure wasn’t going to leave empty-handed when faced with such an architectural marvel.

  “As you wish.” Zaphiel followed her gaze to the two guards flanking the double front doors. Rounding the front of the car, she drew abreast of him and they approached the entrance in tandem.

  The door opened before they reached it, revealing a man who stopped Eve in her tracks. Dark hair, caramel skin and the flame-blue eyes of an upper echelon angel combined to create one hell of a gorgeous male. He stood in his bare-feet, his long legs sheathed in loose-fitting faded jeans, his torso clad in an un-tucked white button-down shirt with rolled-up sleeves and an open collar. The casual elegance of his attire only emphasized his unrestrained sexuality. It also said he felt no threat from his visitors, despite the tangible tension now radiating from Zaphiel’s powerful frame.

  Eve’s head tilted to the side as her curiosity grew.

  Zaphiel spoke first, with a notably harsh edge to his voice. “Adrian.”

  “Your interference is unnecessary.”

  “Since you just lost your lieutenant, I beg to disagree.”

  Adrian stiffened. A haunted look ravaged his handsome features, passing so swiftly Eve wondered if she’d imagined it.

  She re-evaluated Adrian, looking deeper beneath the elegant exterior. As with Alec, there was a dangerous edge to the man, a sharpness in the way he regarded people that betrayed him as a hunter. But in another respect, he wasn’t like Alec at all. Alec struck like a viper – in and gone before anyone knew it, leaving little evidence behind. Adrian had a far different air about him . . . a weighted expectancy like the calm before a storm. She suspected there was an aftermath when he unleashed violence, a razing of the landscape that left no doubt he’d been there.

  With a theatrical and mocking sweep of his arm, Adrian invited them into his home. Zaphiel brushed past as if he owned the place. Eve paused in front of her host. Her stance was relaxed with her shoulders rolled back. Bravado went a long way in throwing Infernals and Celestials off their game.

  Removing her sunglasses, she thrust out her hand and introduced herself.

  Adrian’s mouth lifted on one side before he accepted the greeting. The half-smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and his grip was stronger than required. “Adrian Mitchell.”

  She felt a power surge from his palm to hers. Considering his reluctant deference to Zaphiel’s arrogance, she guessed he was a seraph. She wondered why one of the seraphim was living among mortals. They were the angels responsible for sending kill orders to the archangels; it was through the seraphim that the firms knew which demons to hunt. The job didn’t require being stationed on earth. In fact, the seraphim so rarely visited the firms that an appearance by one of them usually heralded a storm of trouble.

  Adrian’s expression softened. “Losing someone while they’re still with you is painful, I know.”

  It took her a moment to realize he’d intruded into her mind and read her. She yanked her hand back. “I hate it when you guys do that.”

  “I’m sure.” Genuine amusement crossed his face, softening him. It elevated him to a whole new level of hotness. Even Eve, as madly in love as she was, could appreciate it.

  Preceding him deeper into the house, she saw that the expansive foyer descended into a living room via three wide but shallow steps. The massive space spreading out from that point was furnished with oversized burgundy leather sofas and roughly hewn wooden accent pieces. The river rock-faced fireplace was large enough to hold a Mini Cooper, but it couldn’t compete with the wall of windows and its stunning vista.

  When Adrian moved to sit, Zaphiel said, “I have no intention of staying long. If I am to see to your failures, I must begin immediately.”

  Eve stopped moving, hoping to become a fly on the wall. Knowledge was power and direct knowledge from the upper echelon angels was nearly impossible for Marks to come by.

  Adrian’s arms crossed. “Begin what?”

  “Hunting the vamp who killed your second-in-command.”

  Her brows rose. Vampyres were one of the many classifications of Infernals that Marks dealt with. Gadara and the firm should be handling any problems in that area. Having a cherub and seraph digging into the situation set her teeth on edge. The more fingers in the pie, the bigger the clusterfuck.

  “I’ve got a handle on it,” Adrian said coldly.

  “You do not.” Zaphiel examined his fingernails. “And it pleases me not at all to know that lives have been lost due to your negligence.”

  “You think I’m happy about it?”

  “I do not care how you feel. I am here to tell you to stay out of my way. The rest is no longer your concern.”

  Adrian laughed without humour. “Whose concern is it, if not mine?”

  Zaphiel lifted his hand and pointed at Eve. “Hers.”

  Two

  After returning Zaphiel to Gadara Tower, Eve headed home with plans for a hot shower and an evening alone. A feel-good movie while curled up on the couch sounded like heaven to her. She usually preferred blow-’em-up action flicks but she’d had enough real-life explosions to last her for a good long while. Maybe Becoming Jane would do the trick or something stupidly funny like Blades of Glory.

  She stood for a long time beneath the pummelling spray of the shower, telling herself that she had no business wondering why Alec wasn’t at home in his apartment next to hers. She’d given up the right to know what he did at night and she shouldn’t second-guess that decision, especially after today. No one should end up stuck in the middle of a feud between a cherub and a seraph. She wouldn’t wish it on her worst enemy.

  After drying off, she tossed her towel over the laundry basket and belted on a thick white terry cloth robe. Then she went on the hunt for comfort food. It was a boon of the Mark that her body ignored any attempt on her part to screw it up, including wanton snacking; otherwise her breakup with Alec would surely have given her a fat ass by now.

  She was turning into the kitchen when the stereo in her living room inexplicably came on. Stevie Nicks’ beautiful “Crystal” replaced the silence, freezing Eve mid-step.

  On her deltoid, the brand of the Mark of Cain – a one-inch in diameter triquetra surrounded by a circlet of three serpents, each one eating the tail of the
snake before it – tingled and flooded her bloodstream with adrenaline. Her senses sharpened so quickly it was nearly a rush, the world around her bursting into a vibrancy she’d never experienced as a mere mortal. The Mark made her faster, stronger and quicker to heal. It also enabled her to identify the man in her living room from where she stood – sight unseen.

  Eve started forwards again with a shiver of anticipation, continuing to where the hall emptied into the living room. The sheer curtains that framed her sliding glass doors billowed from the ocean breeze. Beyond her balcony lay the sands of Huntington Beach, a coastal community that was home to hundreds of demons. That number was just a fraction of the worldwide population of Infernals living undetected among mortals. Such was the life she lived now, having her groceries bagged by incubi and her Big Mac served by faeries.

  The clink of shifting ice against metal drew her eye to the silver champagne bucket on the coffee table and the napkin-wrapped bottle it held. Two half-full flutes waited nearby.

  The man at her entertainment centre turned to face her. She was struck again by how gorgeous he was. So like his brother in physical traits – smooth olive skin, black as night hair, and espresso brown eyes – but completely different in every other way. His resemblance to Alec had first drawn her to him but Reed Abel continued to hold her attention all on his own. She was halfway in love with him, which confused her and caused all sorts of trouble.

  “Hi,” he said. Although he appeared casual and relaxed, his dark gaze was avid.

  “Hi, yourself.”

  “I hope you don’t mind that I popped in.” His choice of words was apt, considering his angelic gifts enabled him to shift from one location to any other in the world in the blink of an eye.

  “You’re always welcome. Nothing is going to change that.”

  He caught up the flutes as he came towards her and a cool stem was pressed into her hand. She looked down, catching sight of something circular glittering at the bottom. Her breath caught.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” he murmured. His warm fingers wrapped around hers. “Because I have a question to ask you . . .”