by S. J. Day
The angel made a choked noise.
“Mom . . .” Eve glanced at the corner. He looked pained. It was an expression her father wore often.
Miyoko straightened and gathered up the now-folded clothes. “A thoughtful man would carry sunscreen to the beach. He wouldn’t let you get burned.”
Sunburned at the beach. Eve snorted at the excuse. If only she’d been bedridden for something so simple. “I can count on one hand the number of guys I’ve seen carry sunscreen.”
“A good man would,” her mother insisted.
“Like Dad?”
“Sure.”
“I’ve never seen Dad with sunscreen.”
“That’s not the point.”
“I thought it was.”
Eve loved her father, she really did. Darrel Hollis was a good ol’ boy from Alabama with an even-keeled temper and a gentle smile. He was also oblivious. Retired now, he rose at dawn, watched television or read, then went back to bed after dinner. The most unexpected thing he had ever done was marry a foreign exchange student (and Eve suspected her mother hadn’t given him much choice in the matter).
“Stop dating pretty boys,” Miyoko admonished, “and find someone stable.”
Eve shot a beseeching glance at the angel in the corner. He sighed and stepped closer. His voice had a soothing resonance no mortal could create.
“You want to replant the flowers in the pots by your front door,” he whispered in Miyoko’s ear. “You will go to the nursery, then home, where you will spend the rest of the afternoon indulging in your passion for gardening. Evangeline is fine and no longer needs you.”
Her mother paused, her head tilting as she absorbed the thoughts she assumed were her own. The gift of persuasion. Eve hadn’t mastered that one yet.
“You should get a spa pedicure, too,” Eve added. “You deserve it.”
Miyoko shook her head. “I don’t need—”
“Get a pedicure,” the angel ordered.
“I think I’ll get a pedicure,” Miyoko said.
“With flowers painted on your big toes,” Eve went on.
The angel shot her a quelling glance.
Eve winced. “If you want,” she amended quickly.
Alec returned with the banana. Standing by her bed, he peeled it, arresting her with the sight of his flexing biceps.
“I’m going home,” her mom said suddenly. “The laundry is done, the dishes washed. You’re fine. You don’t need me.”
“Thank you for everything.” Eve intended to stand and hug her mother, but remembered that she was naked between her satin sheets.
Miyoko waved her off and headed toward the door. “Let me change first and get my stuff together, then I’ll say good-bye.”
Reed’s voice rumbled down the hallway and swept over Eve’s skin like the warm caress of the sun. “Let me help you with that, Mrs. Hollis.”
Eve looked at Alec, who resumed his seat on the edge of her bed. Then, she glanced at the angel. “Hi.”
“Hello, Evangeline.” He stepped forward, his heavy boots making no sound on the hardwood floor. He had an inordinate number of feathers and appeared to have three pairs of wings. He was beyond impressive; he was the most perfectly gorgeous creature she had ever seen.
“Who are you?” she asked before taking a bite of the fruit. The first chunk was swallowed almost whole, followed immediately by another. Her stomach growled, reiterating that the mark burned a ton of calories and she was expected to keep up by eating frequently.
“Sabrael.”
Chewing, she glanced at Alec again.
“He is a seraph,” he explained.
Her eyes widened and she chewed faster, embarrassed to be naked in such company. The seraphim were the highest ranking angels, far above the seven archangels who managed the day-to-day operations of the mark system here on Earth. Alec was a mal’akh—the lowest rank of angel—as was his brother. Eve was a lowly Mark, one of thousands of poor suckers drafted into godly service for perceived sins. They worked for absolution by hunting and killing Infernals who’d crossed the line one too many times. A bounty was earned for every successful vanquishing, indulgences that went toward the saving of Mark souls.
“Can I get dressed?” she asked, wiping her mouth with the tips of her fingers.
Alec stood and took the empty peel from her. “Sabrael won’t leave until he speaks with you. Celestials have a different view of nudity than mortals do. Tell me what you need and I’ll get it.”
Eve directed him to a beach cover-up that hung in her closet. It was made of pale blue terry cloth and sported a hood, short sleeves, and a pouch in the front. Alec dropped it over her head, and she shoved her various body parts through the appropriate openings.
“Okay, Sabrael,” she began, brushing her hair back from her face. “Why are you here?”
“The better question would be: Why are you here, Evangeline? You should be dead.”
She bit back a groan. Another riddle. It seemed all the angels spoke in them, except for Alec and Reed. Those two spoke so bluntly she’d be perpetually blushing if not for the mark, which prevented her body from wasting energy. “I thought I was.”
“You were. But Cain claims you have knowledge we need.”
Eve looked at Alec. “You brought me back from the dead to grill me for information?”
Sabrael’s arms crossed in front of his massive chest. “You were going someplace where we would not have been able to ask you. It was the only way.”
Her gaze moved heavenward. “You’re not winning any brownie points with me,” she called out.
“It is not your place to demand Jehovah prove himself to you,” Sabrael said in a terrible voice.
“You said we missed something in Upland,” Alec prompted, his fingers lacing with hers.
She thought back to her last assignment—vanquishing an Infernal in one of the men’s bathrooms at Qualcomm Stadium. Alec had taken her out on their first “date”—a Chargers versus Seahawks football game. Reed had come along and said it was time to parlay her classroom instruction into the field.
“A wolf,” she murmured.
“What?”
“I assigned her to a werewolf,” Reed said from the doorway. He approached the opposite side of the bed and passed a chilled bottle of water across the expanse to Eve. “A kid. Easy pickings.”
“Only it wasn’t a wolf,” Alec retorted. “And it sure as shit wasn’t easy.”
“But there was one there,” Eve explained. “One of the kids we spotted in the convenience store in Upland.”
Upland. She’d never think of the town the same way again. They had been sent there on an investigation. Just as Marks bore the Mark of Cain on their arms, Infernals bore “details” that betrayed what species they were, and what their rank in Hell’s hierarchy was. Sort of like military insignia. They also reeked of rotting souls, which made them easy to detect. When Eve stumbled across an Infernal who bore no details and no stench, she and Alec had been tasked with discovering how that was possible. They’d found that a masking agent had been created, a concoction that could potentially tip the balance between good and evil enough to set off Armageddon.
The operation had been run out of a masonry in Upland. The place was gone now, blown to smithereens when Eve shoved a water demon into a fired-up kiln. But it appeared the original problem still remained to be dealt with. The dragon had been odor-free, a condition made possible only by the mask.
“He said the Alpha sent him,” she went on. “They wanted me dead as retaliation for the death of his son.”
Alec’s face took on a hardened cast that chilled her blood. “Charles.”
“The bigger issue,” she said quickly, “was that the dragon he brought with him didn’t stink or have any details.”
“There has to be more of the masking agent somewhere,” Reed said. “A stockpile or a new batch.”
“Perhaps the mask is permanent?” Sabrael suggested.
“No, it wears off. I saw it happen.”
>
The seraph’s gaze moved to Alec. “You did not smell the Infernal either?”
“I told you, I didn’t pay attention.” Alec continued to focus his attention on Eve. The muscle in his arm twitched just below the mark, as if it pained him, and she knew immediately what he was doing—he was lying. The mark burned when sins were committed.
Turning his head to look at Sabrael, Alec said, “I haven’t been trained as a mentor. I don’t know how to focus on both the target and Eve at once. I only know how to hone in on her.”
To bring her back from the brink of Hell, he’d lied to someone in power. A seraph. Or maybe God himself. Alec would pay for that . . . somehow, some way. And now he was lying again. For her.
Her grip on his hand tightened until she was white knuckled, but he didn’t complain.
Miyoko bustled back into the room, her gaze narrowing at the sight of the two men on either side of Eve’s bed. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”
Alec stood so Eve could get out of bed, but he held her back when it became clear that she was too dizzy to complete the effort. She held out her arms for a hug instead.
“When did you get your scar removed?” her mother asked as she bent over.
Her fingers brushed over the Mark of Cain. All of Eve’s childhood scars had been removed with the mark. Her body was a temple now. It ran like a well-oiled machine—precise and without deviations such as sweating, a racing heartbeat, or labored breathing. Except when sex was involved. Then everything worked in full mortal fashion. It made orgasms as addicting as a drug, since it was the only time a Mark could get “high.”
Eve frowned when her mother didn’t say anything about the mark on her deltoid. Her younger sister Sophia’s first tattoo had been lamented with the statement, “You used to be such a beautiful baby.”
“I get a tattoo,” Eve said dryly, “and you’re worried about a mole?”
“You got a tattoo?” her mother screeched. “Where?”
Eve blinked and looked down at her arm. She glanced at Alec who shook his head.
Her mother couldn’t see it.
Sadness settled over Eve, weighing her down. The barrier between her and her old life wasn’t just metaphorical.
“Just kidding,” Eve husked, her throat tight.
“That was terrible,” her mother complained, pushing her gently in recrimination. “I almost cried.”
They hugged, and her mother straightened. “I made some onigiri. It’s in a container by the coffeemaker.”
“Thank you, Mom.”
Reed moved to the door. “I’ll help you carry your things down, Mrs. Hollis.”
Miyoko beamed. Eve’s condo was on the upper floor and the carport was subterranean.
“Kiss ass,” Alec muttered, as they left.
Eve smacked him. “She needs help.”
“I was going to help her, if he hadn’t jumped all over her.”
Sabrael cleared his throat. “You will hunt the Alpha wolf, Cain.”
There was a long moment of stunned silence, then, “Eve is in training.”
“And she will remain that way,” the seraph assured. “The classroom is the safest place for her to be, but you must go.”
Alec shook his head. “No way. You can’t separate a mentor/Mark pair.”
“Charles Grimshaw is connected to the Infernal mask. His son was at the masonry where the concoction was being manufactured and the masked dragon that killed Evangeline was sent at his behest. Time is of the essence. He must be put down before he causes more damage. Your agreement was that you would still perform individual hunts as well as your mentored ones.”
Alec ran both hands through his dark hair. “Once it becomes known that she’s still alive, they will hunt her. She’ll need me nearby to protect her.”
“Raguel has full use of his gifts at the moment. I doubt even you can offer better protection than an archangel in full regalia. Also, don’t forget that you are earning double indulgences for every vanquishing. Killing an Infernal of Grimshaw’s prominence will advance you by years.”
Alec’s jaw tightened. “And I’m just supposed to say, ‘Sorry, angel. I’m off to save my own ass, so you’re on your own’?”
Eve winced.
“I’ll be okay,” she reassured, her thumb brushing soothingly over his palm. “Shouldn’t be any trouble at all. You and Reed can go about your business without worrying. We all know Gadara won’t allow anything bad to happen to me, since he needs me to bully you two.”
“That doesn’t mean,” Reed drawled as he returned, “that we’re not going to worry. You always manage to find trouble.”
She almost argued that Gadara liked to shove her face first into trouble just to irritate Alec, but that wouldn’t make them feel better.
“I especially don’t like that this week is field training,” Alec said, glancing at Reed. “It’s one thing to be in Gadara Tower. It’s another to be out in the open.”
“Fort McCroskey is a military base,” Sabrael said.
“A closed base.”
“It still has a military presence, and Raguel will travel with his entourage of guards.”
Eve frowned at all three men. “What are you talking about?”
Reed explained. “Raguel is taking your class up to Northern California. There’s a former Army base there that he likes to use for field exercises.”
Eve groaned inwardly. A week-long trip with a class of newbie Marks who resented her for having the infamous Cain as a mentor and the equally revered Abel as a handler. She figured the coming week would be as much fun as a Brazilian wax.
“Doesn’t the Alpha live in Northern California?” she asked.
Alec nodded. “A couple hours north of the base. Fort McCroskey is near Monterey, the Grimshaw pack is nearer to Oakland.”
“A couple of hours’ drive is quite convenient,” Sabrael pointed out. “You could have been sent on assignment to the other side of the world.”
“You can’t make me like this,” Alec bit out. “But I’ll take Eve up to Monterey, then continue on.”
Reed grinned. “I’ll keep a close eye on her while Cain is busy.”
“You have an Infernal to classify,” Sabrael reminded him. “You both must trust that Raguel will see to Evangeline’s safety.”
Eve sighed. “Anyone want to switch places?”
“Sorry, babe,” Reed said. “Mark training isn’t a place to play hooky.”
“She’s not your babe,” Alec snapped.
Reed held both hands up in a gesture of surrender that was belied by the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
Their feud wasn’t helped by her past intimacy with Reed. That happened before Alec had reentered her life, so he didn’t hold it against her. But to say that he didn’t trust his brother to be within a mile of her would be an understatement.
Alec looked at Eve, his features softening. “You’d rather hunt real demons than pretend to?”
“Maybe I was resurrected with a different personality,” she suggested. “Like Invasion of the Body Snatchers.”
“Or maybe you’re pissed off at getting killed, and want a little payback.”
Her mouth tilted at the corners. How well he knew her.
“But if you are a pod person,” he continued, “you have great taste in bodies.”
A tingle moved through her. His wink told her he knew it.
“Four more weeks, angel. Then we’ll tear ’em up.”
Four more weeks of class, one of which was a camp-out. Eve sighed. She was definitely back among the living.
Hell would have more direct means of torture.
CHAPTER 2
’I'm sorry about Takeo.”
Reed glanced at the Mark who entered Gadara Tower beside him. “Thank you, Kobe.”
Kobe Denner scrubbed a hand over his face and cursed in his native Zulu. “He saved my life once. I still owed him one. He was a good Mark.”
“My best.” Avenging the Mark’s death was at the top of Re
ed’s to-do list. But first he had to classify the Infernal who did the deed, then he needed to learn how best to vanquish it.
“I heard some unknown demon-type did it.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“Must have been a badass to take out Takeo.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it.” The graveness of the situation was evident in Reed’s somber tone.
“Shit.” Kobe’s dark eyes were sad. His features were kept youthful by the mark, but nothing could hide the weight of experience that burdened his five-foot ten-inch frame. Killing demons took a terrible toll on the soul. “It’s already bad out there.”
“We’ll find and kill it. We always do.” Reed was grateful to sound more confident than he felt.
Kobe paused beside one of the many planters that decorated the lobby atrium. “Do you think Takeo got in?”
Reed inhaled deeply, contemplating the best answer to the question. It was a common one among Marks. They were working for absolution and all wanted to know if they would be granted access to Heaven if they lost their lives before collecting enough indulgences.
“He deserved to,” Reed answered.
It was the best answer to give that wasn’t a violation of the Decalogue, but it clearly wasn’t the answer Kobe wanted to hear.
Still, the Mark accepted it with a grim nod. “If you need me for anything, let me know.”
“I will.” Reed shook the Mark’s hand, then they separated. Kobe headed toward the tucked-away bank of elevators that led to the subterranean floors, an area that was restricted to Marks and Infernal allies and prisoners. Reed crossed the bustling lobby to reach the private elevator that would take him directly to Raguel Gadara’s office.
At least one hundred business-minded pedestrians congested the vast space. Fifty floors above them, a massive skylight illuminated the atrium and served as an architectural invitation to God’s blessings. The steady hum of numerous conversations and the industrious whirring of the glass tube elevators testified to both the effectiveness of the design and Raguel’s widely lauded business acumen. On the surface, all was well at the headquarters of the North American firm. Mortals conducted business here in blissful ignorance of Gadara’s true purpose—the oversight and control of thousands of Marks.
