Watcher Untethered: Dark Angels Paranormal Romance (Watchers of the Gray Book 1)

by JL Madore

  Now it was his turn to shake his head. “Fixing problems is what I do. If I can—”

  “Promise me, or we’re done talkin’.”

  God, she set his teeth on edge. “Fine. You have my word.”

  “Fine.” She took a couple aggressive licks of her ice cream. “Three weeks ago, my live-in boyfriend and business partner, Rick, moved out and sent me an email confessing that he’d been cheatin’ on me with our receptionist. I can’t work in the same office as him and I think I should pack up and leave. New city. New start. After all this, maybe that’s the way to go.”

  The thought that a man chose to throw Austin’s affection away stunned him. He would give anything to love her. And an email? This Rick was an asshole. Her options struck him cold. It would shattered him to reinsert her back into a world without him, but if he couldn’t even watch over her . . . he’d lose his shit. “I recant my promise. I will invest in your new practice.”

  “Don’t mess with a Texan. We stand on our own two feet.”

  “I respect that, but helping you is self-preservation. Letting me do this would be in my best interest.”

  He saw the pain on her face but didn’t understand it. An acrid scent of her emotion hit him in the gut. “What? What’s so wrong with that?”

  “There’s no slack in my rope. I don’t need you to swoop in.” She dropped his hand and focused on her ice cream.

  Unbelievable. “Why are you so pissed that I want to help?”

  She dumped her cone in the street garbage and let Stetson lead them off.

  He fought between wanting to pull her into his arms and kiss her mood away or shake her until her factory settings reset to the playful Austin of half an hour ago. She wouldn’t welcome either. He clenched his fists, fighting the possessive side of himself that demanded he dominate and claim what was his.

  But she wasn’t his.

  He followed, violence rising inside him. Staring at the pavement, he locked himself down until he thought he could speak without his frustration bleeding into his words. “I apologize. Handle your life as you wish. I don’t want to fight.”

  The hostile grunt she made cut through his restraint.

  He moved without thought, without intent. He pulled her against his chest and claimed her mouth. The passion that exploded in her was all wrong. Her nails bit through his shirt as her teeth pierced his lip and she twisted away.

  Fighting against him with such force, she stumbled over Stetson and fell on her ass. Ah, fuck. “Austin, I’m sorry.”

  He bent down to help her up and someone shoved him from behind. “Back away from the lady, buddy.”

  Zander spun, ready to rip the good-Samaritan’s head off. Fuck. A cop. He straightened, running his palms down his jeans. “The lady is in no danger from me, sir. We had a simple misunderstanding.”

  He nodded, his hand hovering over the snap securing his weapon. “I still need you to step away.”

  Fuck this. Zander locked eyes with the officer, wiped the last five minutes from his mind and sent him away with an undeniable urge to get a coffee.

  Austin slapped away his hand and rose to her feet. She brushed off her jeans, gathered Stetson’s harness and strode off without a backward glance.

  He may have lived five thousand years, but he was wholly unprepared for the emotions roiling through him as he caught up to her. “Austin, I apologize. Are you all right?”

  “I’ll live.”

  Damn it. He was a slayer of daemons, a tycoon in business and a feared enforcer on the streets but this little brunette, with her independent mind and feminine curves—destroyed him.

  He’d turned into a fucking pansy-assed-Nancy. True story.

  The coming night cooled the air, coinciding with the icy hostility creeping over them. When Austin shivered Zander draped Kyrian’s jacket across her shoulders and moved to help her slide her arms into the much too long sleeves.

  “I can dress myself.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Mercy, this leather is soft.” She ran her fingers over the jacket, caressed the hide and pulled it tighter around her. The lapel brushed against her cheek and a tender smile softened her face. “Mmm, it smells like Kyrian.”

  The streetlight overhead exploded, sparks and shrapnel raining down to the pavement. Never had he wanted to do his brother harm, but how could she have warmth for Kyrian and none for him? What the hell was the ache gnawing at his intestines? His kill urge surged.

  He wanted to scream until he burst into a supernova. Christ with the way his blood pumped through his veins, he’d take out half a city block. Maybe he could just stab someone and work off this mood. Yeah, nothing soothed the soul like beating the shit out of some soul-sucking Darkworlders.

  Wouldn’t do much to smooth things out with Austin though.

  He flexed his fingers and exhaled. “Look, Austin, I’m sorry I’m not better at this. I’ve never been involved with anyone before—”

  When the breeze shifted direction, he pulled back.

  Oh shit.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Austin felt Zander stiffen beside her at the same moment Stetson growled long and low. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Zander slid an arm around her back and guided her along the sidewalk at an accelerated pace. The steady plodding of footsteps followed them, two, maybe three people.

  A soft click, click of metal chinking followed them too.

  Zander changed their direction. “One step down,” he said, his voice hard. They stepped off the curb and angled across the road. Zander’s fingers tightened against her flesh as he reached into his vest and retrieved what she assumed to be his phone. “Pick up. Shit. Kyrian, I need backup, now. Graffiti Alley.”

  “He didn’t answer?”

  “The noise of the club. Don’t worry, he’ll get the message.”

  She had no doubt, but when? Stetson pulled on the harness, barking at something to her right. “Zander, what is it? Tell me.”

  “Above us. Sneakers dangling over the phone and power lines signal the location of a human drug dealer close by. We’ve got six, maybe seven tracking us and they don’t look friendly.” He pulled her to his side and they strolled along the side street.

  “If they’re human call the police.”

  “Can’t. Take a deep breath.”

  Wood smoke filled her sinuses. “Is that a campfire?”

  “No. Ode de Hellfire. I’d guess that Darkworlders have possessed a drug posse and taken over business for the night.”

  Zander’s aura cast a soft halo around his face. The worry in his eyes got her heart racing.

  “We’ve got an innocent here, boys,” he said, projecting his voice down the alley. “Clear out and no one gets hurt.”

  Austin strained past Stetson’s growls for sounds of movement. “They’re not clearin’ out, are they?”

  “Nope. They’re penning us in. Given the recent internet revelations, they seem inspired.”

  “So, you have to fight them?”

  “Dispatch them, yes. Normally I’d storm over and get my groove on, but—”

  “—I’m here and I’m weak. I make you weak.”

  “Not weak. I just need to keep you away from the fight yet close and safe.”

  Austin considered her vulnerability and brushed herself off. “I’m not much good in a fight, but if you talk, I’ll stay close enough that you can do your thing, all right?”

  “No. Not all right.” His body’s energy surged and the hair on her arms stood on end. He began to glow and a chill shot through her. The dominant warrior inside him came forward. “I don’t want you anywhere near these motherfuckers.”

  “In a perfect world, maybe, but I’m the hand you’ve been dealt.” More footsteps closed in from both sides and behind. The pounding of incoming boots matched the pounding of her heart in her throat.

  Sweet Texas. They were surrounded.

  Danel looked over the rooftop to where Zander and his human were cor
nered. Four bad guys were within striking distance, while a shitload more closed in. Z’s fuck-buddy was a major liability. How the hell would they dispatch daemons with her there? She was the largest Achilles heel he’d ever seen.

  The only bright spot rested in the fact that the alley they’d been corralled into had solid, brick walls. No windows for prying gazes. Low risk of exposure.

  “Is this a private party or can I crash?” He dropped down to street level to join the fun. He stepped in front of the human and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Zander. “Shall we tee-off on the welcome wagon?”

  Z gave him a nod and, if he wasn’t mistaken, the Sumerian looked genuinely happy to see him. The warm and fuzzy didn’t last, two black-eyed Rottweiler’s padded around the corner and eyed them up. Danel dropped his duffle as Zander readied for the hit. They all hated fighting demon possessed dogs. His forearm played the part of a hamburger chew toy last time.

  And always with the Rottweilers.

  The Hell Realm had no imagination.

  The chocolate fur ball attached to Zander’s human lunged. Danel grabbed the leash from mid-air, kept the mutt from engaging, and steadied the woman at the same time. Leaning down, he grabbed the dog’s scruff and stared into its eyes. It fell limp to the pavement.

  “Stetson?” Austin knelt, running her hands over the dog’s body. “Stetson, what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing,” Danel said. “He’s staying out of the way. You need to do the same. You can see Zander when he’s glowing like that, yes?”

  She looked to where Z blocked the alley, wrestling with the Hellhounds. “Yes.”

  The possessed posse seemed mesmerized with the dogfight, giving him an opening to ready the human. He fished through the weapons in his duffle. Not much of a selection for a blind woman: Shuriken, vials of holy water, a couple Moonstones, coiled rope, assorted blades. “You used to be some badass rodeo girl right?”

  Austin blinked. “In another lifetime.”

  He grabbed the lariat whip and shoved it into her hand. “Keep them at a distance with this and if they get too close,” he belted a leather sheath around her hips and placed her palm over the hilt of a Crystalline dagger, “use this for backup.”

  “He says to the blind woman.”

  Danel armed himself to fight a possessed army and chuckled. “Trust me, the Darkworld machismo is legendary. They’ll be chatting the whole time. You’ll see them coming.”

  She glanced down at the glowing blue serum sloshing in the center of the dagger. He moved her hand so she could test the weight and balance. “This knife is filled with holy water and Seraph blood. The pressure of the blade piercing a Dark One’s skin releases the fluid. Depending on the Otherworld race possessing these meat suits, it might slide in like butter or you might hit exoskeleton and need a good jab to get it through. If it’s tough like old bear hide, you’re going to have to ram it.”

  She shucked off Kyrian’s jacket. “What about the people they possess?”

  He squared off with her so she’d see him when he spoke. “Done like dinner. Forget about them. You can’t boo hoo about that or you’re going to get one of us hurt. We won’t be able to do what we need if you’re chicking out—”

  The female’s gaze hardened as she gave the dagger a few practice thrusts in his direction. “Stop worryin’ about the mule, Danel, and load the dang wagon.”

  The anger in her twang impressed him. Pissed was good. He didn’t know what the fuck she babbled, but then again, he didn’t give a shit. He turned to Zander as another half-dozen players joined the fun. The shadows came alive with newcomers—and Watcher backup.

  What do you know, his brothers got his invite and RSVP’d in person. Sweet. “Okay Austin, the party’s getting started here. You ready?”

  She sheathed the dagger and readied the whip.

  Brennus and Hark helped Zander finish with the dogs. Kyrian took point and then the Sumerian was all about dropping back. He gave Danel a fist bump as they switched places and Z readied beside the woman. “Keep the masses off our asses, D.”

  “Done deal.” Danel lifted the gold chain he’d worn for centuries and brushed a thumb over the medallion. With a toss, the chain cleared the woman’s head and his amulet fell against her chest. “Serve and protect.”

  Zander wanted this over. An ambush entertained them on any other night, but not with Austin in the mix. This altercation betrayed the Golden Rule. No witnesses. The fact that they engaged despite Austin’s presence meant one thing—the Dark Ones were done obeying rules.

  Zander grabbed weapons from Danel’s stash and stuffed the waistband of his jeans. His mark was lit up like a neon roadmap, so at least Austin could see him. “Cowgirl, for as long as you can, shadow my position. If you must back off, take ten feet, no more. Got it?”

  She nodded.

  “You know I’ll get you out of this, right?”

  She nodded again.

  The dead-end alley had their backs. Austin tucked in tight, a dagger at her hip, a lariat whip in her hand. God, the thought of her getting hurt practically liquefied his bowels.

  Zander tracked the white-eyed leader of the attack moving for them. Why he’d possessed a punk in skater shorts and high-tops was a Darkworld mystery. “Interesting choice for a meat-suit. Missing the glory days of youth?”

  Skater-dude sidestepped Kyrian and the two enemies the Greek had engaged. “You’re one to talk. You’re a walking fossil, Sumerian. Old and outdated.”

  “The laws aren’t outdated. We’ve got an innocent here. You boys fucked up.” Zander moved them forward and away from where Stetson lay in a heap. He didn’t want Austin tripping over her dog when shit hit.

  The guy flipped his butterfly knife open and closed in an incessant metallic click click. “We considered that. What does one human matter?”

  A second saggy shorts loser, sporting clawed brass knuckles moved in on Danel’s blind side. “Don’t tell me the new king of assassins has a heart. What will people think?”

  Zander tsked them. “All that fire and brimstone has fried your gray matter.”

  Saggy shorts palm-thrusted Danel in the face, his eyes glowing red. His brother’s head snapped back like a broken elastic, blood spraying through the air.

  Zander spun his dagger, tracking the advance of the two coming for them. When skater-dude lunged, Zander’s inner beast reared. No way was anyone aggressing on his girl. He struck hard and fast, cells all firing for one purpose. Blades sliced the air. The kid’s little butterfly poker was no match for his Crystalline dagger.

  The ooze of venom hit the asphalt as the kid collapsed. Zander made quick work of removing the thing’s head. “Don’t get that shit on you, Austin. It burns.”

  Zander checked the melee. His brothers were holding their own. The next contender locked onto Austin and Zander’s beast nearly broke free. His mark flared, the Quickening of the skater dude’s possessor etching its way into his skin. He fought through the burn of the soul entering his eye sockets, adjusting to the merge of strength.

  A piece of pipe flew past his shoulder and whizzed by Austin’s head. Two inches to the left and—

  Zander’s beast lost its mind. Everything flipped into triple time as he battered and rammed and windmilled daggers through the night sky. He staggered forward as a foul-smelling Eidos demon jumped on his back. Fire singed his shoulder as the bastard’s serrated teeth found flesh. With a violent twist, he peeled the acid-spit fucker off and snapped his neck.

  Glancing back, he located Austin and regained some control. Flanking him close on his eight she whipped that lasso around her like a pro. Or like a cowgirl was more accurate.

  God, she fucking amazed him.

  A grunt from Kyrian had him back in the fight. The Greek took a mother of a kick to his side but didn’t drop. Until two Aswang joined in. Abandoning their feminine witch forms, they raced forward on all fours as black boars. One sunk its teeth into Kyrian’s leg and dug in. As he cursed and swung behind him, the brick s
hit-house of an animal pulled back, its thick neck twisting as its shoulders rippled and yanked.

  Zander hoofed the second, spun and sliced it’s neck wide. The boar squealed. Alarmed by her friend’s state of exsanguination, Kyrian’s witch retreated, gathered the fallen boar and dematerialized into the night.

  Movement in his periphery had Zander turning. The undulating darkness on the edge of the fight loomed denser and darker than the surrounding shadows. A Shade. The eight-foot translucent blotch oozed from shadow to shadow, searching for a hole in their defenses—to Austin. He cursed.

  Diving around Kyrian, he grabbed the shotgun from Danel’s thigh sheath and blasted the Shade. Rock-salt shot blew the ghost to bits. Its dark silhouette sprayed a million black spiders into the night, scurrying to reassemble.

  Kyrian spun and thrust his dagger into another attacker’s chest cavity. With his kill down, he sliced the demon’s head. Ichor oozed from the neck, the iridescent patch of sludge glittering in the light of the street lamp. Kyrian’s mark flared as he absorbed the kill.

  Brennus roped his guy around the throat. The Celt’s flaming hair flew wild as he pulled his prey in and sliced his noggin off.

  “That’s the way it’s done, boys,” Zander said.

  Kyrian repositioned, blocking the site line from some overeager newbie to Austin. “Three more and we’re headed home. Drinks on Z.”

  Zander nodded. “How you doing, cowgirl?”

  Austin peeked out from behind Kyrian as pale as a poltergeist, eyes wide.

  Shit. “Okay, hang in there. Two more minutes.” Zander turned back to the young blood-sucker next up. And look . . . he’d picked up skater dude’s butterfly knife as a souvenir.

  The blood-sucker lunged forward, and two other daemons tagged in. In a split second, the scene shifted. Triple-teamed, Zander got slammed back as the punk with the blade passed him. Z rolled to his feet and clocked the man holding him while Hark speared the second with an arrow through the throat.

  The kid zoned in on Austin. Zander was out of range.

  He countered the only way he could. His throwing star embedding in the punk’s thigh, pitching him forward like a runaway train. Hark loosed an arrow and sliced his hammy. The kid toppled, knees buckling, his blade still within reach.