by Rose Wulf
Belle didn’t have time to cringe.
“I sheathed it.” Ever blunt, just the way she remembered.
Gwen shook her head again. “Uh-uh, I don’t see a sheath.” Her gaze settled on the IV lines in her arms and she mumbled, “Man, what did they give me?” She reached as if to jerk them from her arm and Belle rushed forward.
“Be careful!” Belle dropped her hand on Gwen’s, ceasing the movement just in time, and said, “You could hurt yourself doing that. Let me take them out for you.”
“Why should I trust you?” Gwen challenged.
Opting, for once, to take a page out of Kai’s book, Belle looked Gwen in the eyes and said, “I’m a healer. He’s an angel. We’re here to protect you from the demons.”
Gwen’s focus snapped to Kai, who fortunately remained silent and was likely frowning, and then back to Belle. Seconds ticked by and Belle wondered what was swirling around in Gwen’s head. Not for the first time did she wish one of her abilities was mind reading.
A whoosh of air rushed from Gwen, and she slumped back against the bed as if in relief. “Finally,” she exclaimed. “I was starting to think I was crazy.”
Chapter Two
“No offense,” Gwen declared as she followed Belle into the hotel room, “but I thought angels could afford something a little … nicer.”
Belle jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Take that up with him, I didn’t pick it.”
Thanks, Belle. Kai shut the door and flipped the so-called security latch as Gwen’s attention swung his way. In the short hour since they’d met, he’d come to realize this sickly human had more spunk than half the angels he fought beside. Apparently, she didn’t have one of those debilitating problems.
“So?” Gwen pushed when Kai didn’t offer an answer.
“It’ll suffice for tonight,” he returned, moving toward the window on the opposite wall. The curtains were drawn, as he and Belle had left it, so he had to lift an edge to look outside. Their room was on the second floor, facing the front parking area and the road beyond. It was evening, and the sky was covered with sporadic clouds so the passing vehicles had their headlights on. He didn’t see anything suspicious.
One of the beds squeaked, and Gwen asked, “So what are we doing tomorrow, then? Am I dying?”
“Wow,” Belle said. She planted her hands on her hips as Kai looked toward the women. “That’s a positive attitude. I’m pretty sure I mentioned I’m a healer; so no, you’re not dying.”
Gwen snorted inelegantly from her seated position and arched a brow. “Sorry, but I’m not sure what ‘healer’ means to you. I am sure I’m cursed. My heart’s going to fail at midnight on my thirtieth birthday—which is two months away. It’s already getting weaker.”
Finally, some new information. Frowning, Kai crossed his arms and took up a position in the one unoccupied corner. “Cursed how?”
Belle perched on the edge of the bed across from Gwen, seemingly willing to wait for the answer to his question. For once.
At this Gwen sighed and her shoulders sagged. “I don’t know,” she said. “There was something in my parents’ will. They said they were ‘so sorry, but it was the only way to save your brother,’ and that my soul ‘belongs to the demons’.” She paused, swallowed her obviously building emotions, and looked up. “They said ‘you’ll have a heart attack when you turn thirty’.”
“That’s horrible,” Belle murmured, sadness weighing down her usually breathy voice.
Kai knew his eyes were narrowed in thought when he asked, “They sold their daughter to a demon in order to save their son? Where is he now?”
“And your parents,” Belle interrupted. “You said this was in their will?”
Gwen nodded. “They committed joint suicide about five years ago.” Bitterness filled her voice as she explained, “They couldn’t bear the guilt any longer, apparently.” She released another breath and looked back to Kai. “My brother, Ben, was born sick. He nearly died before leaving the hospital and chances of him surviving the week were small. All our childhood lives we heard it as ‘a miracle’ that he grew healthier instead.” Gwen swallowed her emotion again. “But I guess they actually just traded his life for mine.” She shook her head, her gaze falling to the ground, and mumbled, “I wish they’d told me sooner, you know? Or asked… He’s my little brother, I’d happily die for him, but … but I didn’t live the way I would’ve if I’d known how limited my time was.”
Belle moved and sat beside Gwen, draping a slender arm around her shoulders. “I’m so sorry,” she said gently. “I can’t imagine knowing my sister was the reason I was dying.”
Something twisted in Kai’s gut at her choice of words, and he lifted his gaze to the ceiling. Her words shouldn’t have bothered him. Sure, he knew she had a sister and he knew just as well that the sisters were as close as could be. Madelyne was one of the few who knew the past between him and Belle and for as flighty as she could be, he trusted her to keep that secret. More importantly, Belle’s words were hypothetical. Her sister wasn’t in any danger and she sure as hell wasn’t dying for any reason. The problem was him.
Nearly a full century since the last night he’d spent in Belle’s arms and his heart hadn’t moved on. He wasn’t so sure anymore that it ever would.
****
Belle glared at the closed hotel room door for long seconds after Kai left. She couldn’t say she was surprised that he wanted a little space from them—from her—but it hurt, dammit. She was the one who should’ve been needing space, and here she was feeling oddly abandoned as he walked away. Again. This assignment is going to be a disaster. Why had she insisted on making something of herself in the angels’ eyes after Kai had left her? Had she really thought it was some kind of revenge?
“Man, he’s a downer,” Gwen mumbled. “Does he seriously have the male version of resting bitch face?”
The words pulled Belle back into the moment, and she laughed. “That is the best description I’ve ever heard,” she said with a grin. Sobering herself, Belle asked, “What I’d like to know is, if the demons have a lock on your soul in two months, why are they actively pursuing you now?”
Gwen’s grin faltered, and she shrugged. “I’m not sure. I mean, I really wish I knew.”
Guess I should’ve figured she doesn’t have the answers. How much easier would the assignment be, after all, if their patient had the solution to the external problem.
“So,” Gwen began, swinging around to sit sideways on the mattress and pulling one leg up. “You said you’re a healer? What’s that mean? Are you, like, an angel with healing specialty or something?”
Laughing for a different reason, Belle shook her head. “All angels do have some sort of healing abilities. Most are limited to self or flesh wounds, or only work if they’re prayed for, that sort of thing.” Gwen nodded when she paused, and Belle debated the wisdom of the rest of her words. But it wasn’t like it was some big secret anymore. “I’m a Nephilim.”
Head tilting to one side much the way a dog’s head might, Gwen slowly asked, “A … what?”
“Half-angel,” Belle clarified. It was no surprise Gwen didn’t know the term. Most people didn’t, and of course those that did assumed they were myth. They were supposed to be, after all. But Gwen still didn’t need to know any of that. “I’m the one with the specialty in healing,” she continued instead. “All Nephilim inherit one angelic power, if you will. Healing is what I got. And I’m very good at it.”
“Oh. Wow.” Gwen broke into a grin and nudged her nearest leg. “That’s seriously cool. Do you get to spend a lot of time with hotties like Kai?” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “’Cause I am totally jealous. I have to die never getting to be laid by a body like that, and it sucks.”
Belle didn’t know whether to laugh or scream at that declaration, so instead she shook her head and steadied her breathing. “They might look good on the outside, but inside they’re mostly … dry.” Just in case someone was listening,
Belle didn’t want to get a lecture for calling all angels everywhere assholes. Even if it was true.
Gwen shrugged. “Who cares about the inside? It’s not like I’ll be around long enough to see it.”
At this, Belle frowned and held up her pointer finger for a dramatic lecture. “Listen, that’s the last I want to hear of that, okay? My job isn’t to keep you alive until your soul is collected. It’s to heal you. So that curse is going to go away, and you’re going to live to see thirty-one. Got it?”
The hair on the back of her neck stood up at the same time as Gwen’s attention snapped to something behind her, her eyes instantly wide with fear. Even a human could feel the demonic vibes from this intruder.
Belle swung to her feet, putting her back to Gwen and bracing herself for a fight. She didn’t have her weapon in hand, but she’d trained hard. No demon would best her easily, even without her sword. Including the terrifying one standing before her with the eerily glowing red eyes and pointed teeth. He must love clichés.
Smirking dangerously, the demon said, “Outta the way, little Nephy. I want the human.”
Belle bristled at the slur. “Move me, demon.”
That was exactly the wrong thing to say.
****
Securing the perimeter was probably the dumbest, most obvious excuse he’d ever used in his long, long life. Kai cursed his idiocy as he walked away from the room. But it couldn’t be helped. He couldn’t get Belle’s consoling, sympathizing words out of his head and they echoed around like some stupid threat. She wasn’t dying. If for no other reason than he’d never allow it.
Kai ground his teeth, wishing Isabella had given this assignment to someone else. There were angels who liked Belle, who didn’t look down on her for being Nephilim. Like Jaelyn. He’d heard they even sometimes ate together. Why the hell did she choose me? Half the armada was well convinced he held the disgustingly common negative opinion of Nephilim as a species, or at least where Belle was concerned. He hated letting anyone think it, but it was necessary all the same. The more preposterous the idea of him caring about Belle, the safer she’d be.
But that was probably the problem, he realized.
Nephilim were generally looked down on among angels. And any real relationship—let alone intimacy—between an angel and a Nephilim was forbidden. While Isabella didn’t appear to particularly dislike Nephilim, she would surely not want to cause problems among her armada. That was undoubtedly why she’d chosen Kai. His deliberately crafted reputation had worked against him in the worst possible way. Fuck it all.
He rounded the corner to the back parking area, the one he couldn’t see from their room, and walked straight into a group of demons.
Cursing his distracted mind, Kai barely dodged a tainted blade as it swung for his head. He let it slash through his arm, demolishing the sleeve of his black tee, and spun, landing a hard kick in the demon’s chest. The demon went flying as another tried sneaking up.
“Good riddance, angel!” the demon cried, intending to stab him straight through the top of his skull.
Kai caught one of his descending wrists in one hand. “Can’t say the same,” he returned before willing his flame into the demon’s chest. The demon screamed, burning alive much slower than if he’d been slashed with Kai’s blade. But such was the fate they deserved for attempting to ambush him.
“Do you have a name, angel?” a third demon asked, wisely keeping a distance between them. His hands were braced, prepared to fire, but he waited. This one was a fighter, then.
Kai glanced between him and his remaining companion, discounting the one he’d kicked off moments earlier. “It’s Kai.” He saw the moment his name registered with the pair.
The one who’d asked his name went stiff with recognition, his stance slackening slightly. “Shit,” he muttered.
The other’s eyes were wide as he took a half-step backward, then launched himself forward with a roar. “Die!” He cried it as though the word had at least six extra syllables.
Kai caught him by the throat, still not caring to draw his sword. Ambush or not, this could actually be a little freeing if he let it drag on a bit. He needed some kind of release. So he met the startled, frightened demon’s gaze and said, “Not today.”
The other demon bellowed something needlessly as his compatriot’s hellfire snuffed out. Gathering his concentration, the demon reared back and hurled a javelin-like spear of dark energy at Kai’s chest.
Knowing better than to take the energy blast straight on, Kai dropped and rolled, catching it by the tail end and swinging it around to redirect its momentum toward the recovering demon he’d kicked previously. He ignored the burn on his fingertips as he held onto the energy. Demonic energy was as poisonous to angels as angelic energy was to demons—nature’s frustrating little balance. But a flesh wound would fade eventually.
“Your reputation might be well-deserved,” the remaining demon admitted, stepping toward the shadow of the building. “But you should know, Kai, that includes your arrogance.” His foot landed in the shadow, and he immediately vanished, obviously wise enough not to linger after that foolish comment.
Kai released a breath before the demon’s words hit him. There was only one possible thing his arrogance could be impeding right then.
Belle!
****
Creed couldn’t believe his luck. He’d scented the bastard angel who’d been after him in that hospital room when he’d gone to investigate, so he’d brought along a few pawns to throw at him. But when they arrived at the hotel the angel was outside, wandering aimlessly like an idiot. And, like an idiot, he’d left his females upstairs. Unprotected. So with instruction to the pawns to keep Kai busy, Creed had gleefully taken himself up to the second floor. Where he laid eyes on not only the human girl whose soul he wanted, but also the Nephilim he’d scented in that hospital room.
What a looker she was, too. He could already imagine a dozen ways to enjoy torturing her. First, though, he needed to bleed out that human. Her time was almost up; he needed to kill her before that clock ran out.
“Move me, demon,” the Nephilim challenged. She had all the appearance, and the haughtiness, of an angel. But not nearly the power, let alone a fancy purifying sword.
Letting his teeth show, Creed replied, “Happily.” He lunged forward, his larger form crossing the tiny room with ease. The Nephy had decent reflexes it seemed, because she threw herself and Manning onto the far bed, toward the door. But in her haste to protect her charge she left her own back exposed, and Creed grinned.
He reached for her, but she seemed prepared for that—or she had damned good instincts—because she flipped around and managed to plant one of her tall stilettos into his shoulder.
“Belle!” Manning cried, her back to the wall beside the door, as she reached for the Nephy.
Creed roared, exaggerating the pain he felt at the impact, and he snagged her ankle before she’d extracted it from her shoe. Except instead of trying to struggle in his grasp, she rolled her weight and swung her free leg at his head, too fast for him to dodge. Her boot tore into his face a moment before her rolling momentum ripped her other shoe free at the expense of his collarbone. She rolled clear and this time his pain was real enough to piss him off.
A flicker of triumph sparked back at him from her glare, and he sneered. “You have fabulous legs, Nephy.”
As he’d hoped, his words goaded her into a reaction.
The Nephilim, he presumed answered to Belle, propelled herself forward with a shout, sending them both tumbling onto the second mattress. She tore at the wound on his face, worsening it, and landed another damned stiletto a little too close to home. But if she’d intended to out-muscle him, or hoped to rely on surprising him, she was about to be disappointed. Creed jerked her foot out of his flesh, using the awkward angle to throw her off the foot of the bed and into the small, cheap hotel desk. He distinctly caught sight of a trickle of blood as it slipped from her lips. Good.
Be
lle pushed to her knees, too far from the door to find freedom, and awkwardly dispatched her other shoe in order to find her feet. But Creed was faster, and he had the advantage.
He spun toward Manning as the woman finally thought to make a break for it and hurled the stiletto, not particularly caring which part of her bled. Unfortunately, shoes weren’t his specialty and instead of piercing her with the spiky end he struck her with the pointed toe. But it was enough to throw her off as she tried to dodge, putting some distance between herself and the main door.
“No!” Belle cried as she landed on Creed’s back in a poor attempt at a tackle. Or maybe she thought riding him backward was a good battle strategy. She latched her arms around his throat as if to strangle him, digging her knees into his ribs simultaneously. And he was a little too sore to laugh about it.
“Can’t get enough of me, can you?” he taunted as he grabbed her forearms and threw his body weight forward. She tried to resist, but it was no use. Her body flew over his shoulders and, since he didn’t let go, she wound up crashing onto the floor on her back. He heard the impact knock the air out of her lungs and was somewhat surprised he hadn’t heard anything break. Weren’t Nephilim just as vulnerable as mortals? Something to look into.
“Get off her!” Manning demanded, having snatched up Belle’s stiletto. She started forward, but Belle cut her off.
“Gwen, stay back!”
“I don’t know why you’re both yelling,” Creed said, squeezing Belle’s struggling arms enough to bruise. “You’re both about to die.”
“Not today, you creep!” Manning exclaimed, sprinting forward and swinging the stiletto. She was aiming for his head like she thought he’d let her stab him.
Creed swept out his free arm, catching the woman under her arms and knocking her back onto the nearest bed. She bounced and rolled and finally crashed into the headboard. The stiletto fell to the floor as Manning groaned.
