Broken Souls
(Primani Book Four)
By Laurie Olerich
Text copyright 2014 Laurie Olerich
All Rights Reserved
Discover other Primani series titles by Laurie Olerich:
The Lost Soul Trilogy:
Primani
Call the Lightning
Stone Angels
Prologue:
Brooklyn, New York, 1987:
“FORGIVE ME, FATHER, FOR I HAVE SINNED.”
Confession.
It was good for the soul. Cleansing and purifying, confession would lead to absolution and forgiveness. Or so she’d been taught. If only it were that simple.
“It’s been two months since my last confession.”
To 24-year-old Annalisa, those hushed words damned her as much as her sins. If only she’d come to confession earlier, she wouldn’t be in this situation. A month ago, she’d been ashamed. She avoided confession out of horror of her own behavior. She knew what she was doing was wrong, yet she was in too deep to stop herself. Now, the simple words were like a neon sign, flashing her guilt for everyone to see. She slumped lower in the confessional. Peering through the screen, she watched the cleaning lady for evidence that she could hear them. The little old lady from Queens dribbled more lemon oil onto a pew and half-heartedly rubbed it in. Was it her imagination, or did she seem to cock her head in the direction of the confessional?
Pausing to dab at her eyes, she continued, “I’m afraid I can’t be forgiven. It’s too late.” There were some sins that were too consequential, too heinous, for forgiveness. Surely even God himself would turn away with disgust.
“There is always forgiveness, my child, if one is truly repentant. Why don’t you tell me what you’ve done?” The priest’s tone was encouraging, as usual. Patient, caring, his manner was comforting when hearing her confessions. This time though, he was about to get an earful.
She’d been taught that sins would be forgiven if the sinner was genuinely remorseful. She tried to live her life by the teachings of the church, and honestly felt bad when she strayed. Her parents and the nuns had ensured she felt guilty whenever she did something wrong.
Truly repentant? That was going to be a problem this time.
“I had sex outside of marriage, Father.”
Way outside of marriage.
She swallowed hard and rushed on before she could lose her courage. “I had sex with an angel, and I’m pregnant.”
Dead silence.
Finally, he asked, “Does he know?”
Shaking her head though he couldn’t see her, the dam gave way and she sobbed, “I killed him!”
Chapter 1: Running From Angels
THE POUNDING OF HER HEART brought her gasping awake in the colorless light of early morning. Blinking in confusion, Rori Austin struggled to get her bearings. Where was she? When was she? With her vision still wonky from yet another dream, she scanned the room and sagged in relief. She was home. Thank God.
As the normal lightheadedness eased up, she panicked and dove for the notepad lying on the milk crate that acted as a dresser. I have to write it down. Write it down. Write it down. The mantra flowed in her mind like a curse. Write it down. Scribbling like a crazy person, she wrote everything she could remember. After ten minutes, she ran out of juice and stared at the pad in horror.
Two words--over and over again. Only two words? How was that possible? The vision was so real! It was long and winding... it kept her up half the night. Surely there was more than that. She closed her eyes, straining to recapture the vision, but it was gone. The barest hint of heat, fire maybe, teased at the edges of her memory. Jesus, help her. She was losing her mind. Shaking her head in frustration, she climbed off the lumpy futon and headed for the shower. Slouching under the weak stream, she sniggered at her own stupid optimism. Rori Austin, why on earth are you praying for help when you know Jesus turned a blind eye to you a long time ago? And for some crazy ass reason you still pray. Ridiculous! Ladies and gentlemen, God has left the building. With that cheery thought, she shoved her face into the water for a last rinse. She was talking to herself in the third person again. Not only was she an idiot, she was a crazy person. How much worse can this get?
“What the hell?”
Declan Manning rolled over and shot out of bed in the wink of an eye. Instantly alert, he scanned the room for threats but relaxed when he saw who had dragged him out of a sound sleep. He relaxed for the nanosecond it took to get a good look at her face. Oh, shit.
Splaying his hands in a gesture of peace, he flashed a weak smile. “Now Dani--”
She marched into the room and shoved her finger into his chest. “Don’t you ‘Dani’ me! What the hell is the matter with you?” Her eyes cut to the rumpled sheets, gleaming with an unholy light.
Closing his eyes against the sight, he pried her finger out of his chest and tried again, “Don’t you knock?”
Clearly furious, Dani stalked him backwards until he came up against the bedroom wall with a thunk. She yanked his face down to her level for some eye-to-eye contact.
“You have a naked woman in your bed.” Her voice dropped to a hiss. Reaching out one delicate hand, she dragged her nails lightly across his belly, eyes hardening to granite as he sucked in his stomach. She pressed her nails just above his, uh, personal assets, pinning him in place.
Dani Taylor was more than pissed. How could he do this to her? She thought they had an understanding. She had been so careful to keep him interested while she figured out what she wanted to do. It wasn’t her fault it was taking a while to make up her mind. She had other things to consider besides her hormones and his hot body. Finding him in bed with someone was NOT in the plan.
“And you’re naked too. How could you?” The question was more or less rhetorical since she knew perfectly well how he could do it. Still, she wasn’t letting him off the hook. Not by a long shot. She glared while he searched for the right answer. Her on again, off again Plan B looked at her now with so many emotions flickering over his face that she felt a grin trying to sneak out. Growling softly, she kept up the pressure, smirking when he hitched in his breath. He had beautiful carved abs covered with soft, tanned skin. It would be a shame to damage them too much. Once upon a time, she’d run her hands over them with more than pain in mind.
He finally sighed, long and hard, a hint of a smile curving his lips. A familiar woodsy fragrance floated around them, lifting the tension, filling her with calm. Suddenly she wasn’t sure why she was mad. She inhaled, blinked, and took a really good look at the man standing in front of her. Tall, lean, tightly muscled, he was rock hard and golden-skinned. There was a fine dusting of pale gold hair scattered over his chest, tapering to a more burnished happy trail dissecting those sculpted abs and drawing her eyes downward to his quite lovely...
“Go ahead. Look at me, darlin’. Maybe you’ll appreciate what you’re missing.” He wrapped strong fingers around her wrist, flattening her hand against his beating heart. With his other hand, he tilted her chin back and fixed her with a hard stare. “I haven’t done anything wrong tonight. But even if I had, I don’t answer to you.” He pushed her gently back and grunted, “Your choice, remember?”
He crossed his arms and tried not to think about his junk hanging out in the cold room. It was really hard being hard on her (no pun intended) when he was buck ass naked. Goose bumps popped up on his arms, and his boys retreated to warmer climes. Ah, hell. Would she just yell at him and get out of here before he was totally humiliated? It was all he could do not to reach for a blanket. Instead, he stared her down and waited for her to throw out another insult or two before stomping out of the room, as usual.
A sl
eepy moan from the bed saved Dani from another undignified retreat. Her eyes practically fell out of her head when she glanced over.
“Abby?”
Three nights later, Dec leaned against the kitchen counter inside the Primani headquarters. The farmhouse was nestled inside a huge wooded lot outside of Plattsburgh, New York. His ops cell had used it for years. It felt a little more like home than anyplace else they’d been in several centuries. Of course, nothing could ever replace his real home, but that was long since gone.
The only woman he’d ever been able to count on was throwing together dinner while two of her three toddlers were out from under her feet. Mica Leahy was his best friend. The sun and moon rose and set behind her beautiful denim eyes--really, they did. He loved her from the first second he laid eyes on her about, oh, eight years ago. She had been young and naive and in a whole lot of trouble. Lucky for her, he had a soft spot for damsels in distress. She was as far from ‘damsel’ as he could imagine now. He’d watched her take apart a demon using nothing but the power of her mind. Yeah, that was pretty freakin’ creepy, but hey, they all had their special abilities. It made them what they were. Telekinesis just happened to be one of her stronger talents. Her husband, Killian, was his Primani leader, and the older brother he never had. They were tight. But no matter how much he loved Killian, he still loved Mica more. She was way nicer than her uptight husband. Even so, he’d been trying for weeks to find a way to bring up his problems with Dani, but wasn’t sure how Mica would react. Dani’s latest temper tantrum was pretty much the last straw. He was through being dicked around and wanted Mica’s advice before he made his choice.
She squeezed his shoulder and dropped a kiss on his cheek on the way to the oven. “Okay, I’m going to be straight with you, Dec. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you need to hear the truth.” She paused to see if he was paying attention before continuing, “You know I love Dani; she’s a good friend to me, and she’s an awesome nanny for the kids. But damn it, Dec, she’s sucked the life out of you. You’ve been moody for months. You’re not yourself anymore, and I’ve been a little worried about you. I’m glad you asked for my input; I was about to give it to you whether you asked or not!” She shot him a quick grin and pulled out the tray of blueberry muffins that were baking.
“Look, the love of your life is supposed to feed your soul, not strangle it. She’s supposed to build you up, have your back, nourish your dreams. That’s just not Dani. She’s left you hanging every step of the way. I can’t explain her attitude. She isn’t much of a sharer. You deserve better, though. Move on. You’ll find a woman who’s worthy of all that you are.”
“Are you serious right now? I can’t believe you’d say that! I thought you’d take her side.”
She caught him in a sisterly hug and murmured, “Oh, sweetie, you’ll always be my favorite. You’re good and kind,” she met his amused eyes with a grin, “and just completely adorable. You and I have been through too much for me to side with her over you.” She pulled the tiny golden locket out of her shirt and waved it with a smile. “Blood is truly thicker than friendship.”
Kissing the top of her head, he ignored her mangled quote and remarked, “Yeah, I have saved your life a few times. Thanks, sweetheart. It’s not what I wanted to hear, but I’ll think about it.”
They were interrupted by the anguished howls of two of the triplets. Guess they were done napping. Mica beat him to the living room, where the boys had been snoozing on a fat sleeping bag. Michael Declan, his namesake and the youngest, was crying and rubbing his ear, but Rafe had gone rogue and was scaling the bookcase trying to get to God only knew what. He was clearly terrified, hence the howls, but he kept climbing, taking action in the face of fear! He would be a killer warrior someday. Good thing too; he had a big job to do.
Mica tossed him a hassled look and begged, “Dec, baby, please go grab Rafe before he falls!” She gestured with her elbow; her other hand was full with Michael who was squalling in protest as his mother slipped the spoon of purple medicine into his crying mouth. Dec’s heart tightened when he spotted the first tear running down the little cheek. The youngest two were fighting off a cold, while Killian Jr. was healthy as a horse. That kid never got sick. Ever. It was eerie.
“Here, let me have this one. You go after Rafe.” He plucked the unhappy toddler from Mica’s grasp and lifted him over his head until he stopped crying. Squalls turned to whimpers and then giggles. There we go. Better. He kissed the top of Michael’s sweaty head and said, “Come on, little dude, no crying today. You’re all right. Where’s your daddy?” Michael sniffed and pointed to the back door.
On cue, Killian materialized in the doorway. Letting his molecules settle for a nanosecond, he shook his fingers out and zeroed in on Mica. “Everything okay? I swear I heard the screaming in transit.” He pulled Rafe from his mother’s arms, studying his pale face before setting him down again. “Fever’s gone?”
Mica gave him a distracted kiss and agreed. “And the cough is just about gone too. They’re okay, just crabby. It’s hard for them to be stuck inside all day. This weather sucks.”
A sudden shower of rain struck the kitchen window. Fall in New York... chilly, rainy, dark. It reminded Dec a whole lot of England some days. He shuddered at the thought. He totally didn’t miss England. His memories were not so good. When he peered into the darkest places of his mind, he could still see Sean’s face covered by the stone angel. With skin bleached white and eyes bloody red, he’d suffered a fate worse than death... all for the greater good. He’d sacrificed himself to save millions from what would’ve been the worst smallpox outbreak mankind had ever seen. It’d been three years since they’d cleared Sean’s name and gotten him freed. Even so, the nightmare images were still too close to his heart. Sean might be fine now, but he wasn’t. They’d nearly lost Sean completely. He never wanted to go to England again.
Mica was right. He was brooding. Shaking his head clear of those maudlin images, he passed Michael to Killian who held him close for a second before setting him down and ordering, “Go play with your brother, Michael.” Turning to Mica, he asked, “Little Killian’s not back yet?”
Over the past year, Killian Jr. had shown signs of significant psychic powers. The archangels were intrigued and not just a little smug. To have such a strong asset on their side was a huge boon for them. Even though the triplets were only three years old, they were all showing signs of their strengths. All of the boys had powers from Killian, Sean, and Declan. Killian Jr. had inherited his father’s most dominant power: the ability to control natural forces. He’d been doing it since before he was born, but they hadn’t put the pieces together until he called forth lightning on his first birthday. Raphael had insisted they begin training about one minute later.
Mica smiled up at her husband and said, “He’s not due back for another day. Raphael wanted to keep him for another week, but I told him you’d lose your mind.” Tugging him by his belt loop, she slipped her cold hands under his shirt. With a wink at Dec, she suggested, “I think you need a nap. Dec volunteered to babysit for a few hours.”
He rolled his eyes and shook his head. You gotta be kidding me… Did everyone have sex on the brain? Must be something in the air. Full moon?
An hour later, he slouched on the porch swing, scowling into the dripping trees. He wasn’t trying to listen, really. But his hearing was supernatural. It wasn’t his fault he could hear everything inside the house. He couldn’t exactly crank up his iPod since he was babysitting. It was a nightmare trying to drown out some noises while also keeping his ears open for crying kids. The damn happy couple was quiet now, probably snuggling in some supernatural afterglow, but he was left with a teeth gritting, throbbing ache that was making him mental. He looked down at his lap and scowled some more. Go back to sleep! Shit. At this rate, he’d need some alone time before dinner! He flashed a grin that no one saw. Yeah, he was pathetic, but it was funny as hell.
Out of the three Primani in his o
ps cell, he was the one with the strongest ability to influence the minds of anyone around him. It was a powerful weapon in their arsenal. They all had that ability to some degree, true. But he was actually charming. Ladies liked that. Women responded to him in ways that boggled Sean and Killian’s minds. Even Dimitri shook his head, and that was saying something.
With a mental wave of his hand, he could distort memories, charm the pants off of someone (literally or figuratively), or loosen up a stubborn suspect they needed to question. Theoretically, he could use these psychic abilities to get more women to sleep with him. Not to mention, he was also easy on the eyes. Modest, too. He could get laid every day if he wanted. But he didn’t, for more than one reason.
Unable to sit still, he paced the length of the covered porch and studied the trees some more. It was still raining, but more softly now. Mother Nature must be running out of juice. The wind shifted, and he caught the faint peal of Mica’s throaty laughter.
Ah, hell.
He couldn’t stand living here any longer. It’d been three years since they all moved in together and things had been great at first. The triplets were a riot, and Mica and Killian were two of his favorite people. He’d gladly die for either one of them, but they, well, they had way too much sex. And damn it, he wasn’t getting any. If he was being honest with himself, he’d admit he was jealous of what they had. They were crazy for each other, and everyone could see it. Mica looked at Killian with such intensity it hurt to watch. He wanted a woman to undress him with her eyes, to drag him off to bed... to just give a shit about him... yeah, he wanted that too. But that dream was so distant it might as well be nonexistent. And…he’d be fronting himself if he didn’t admit he was just plain horny.
It had been years.
Stupid tool that he was, he’d been saving himself for Dani. He cared about her and didn’t want her to think he wasn’t picky. He liked sex, but he wasn’t a man-whore like Rivin or Dimitri. Those two got more ass than they deserved. He missed the playfulness of it all, the warmth, the fun, and hell, the explosion of a spectacular orgasm. Damn. He needed to get laid. He adjusted his jeans with an irritated shove. Apparently there was some urgency. It was time to get his own space before the party in his pants turned into a full riot. Chewing on the tip of his index finger, he planned his escape. Could he really walk away?
Broken Souls (Primani Book 4) Page 1
