by Ella James
But why did Samyaza seem to pick certain children? Certain families? Cayne had never worked out why, because it never seemed to matter…until recently.
He had started passing his nights, the time usually spent in a state of rest or pleasure, cataloguing the faces of the Stained whose lives he’d ended. How they were often contorted with pain for their children. They would plead for the children. And for some years, it had made him want to end them. What about their damn kids? Who was he to care? No one had cared for him.
But recently, it seemed…
He shook his head. It didn’t matter. Couldn’t.
Samyaza entered through the attic and kicked out the floor, wood splintering into a child’s bedroom, a long beam falling atop a crib.
The assignment was unpleasant in the extreme. The man and woman were stronger than most, and Cayuzul wasn’t up to task. Samyaza took care of the father. Cayuzul was left with the mother. She held her baby, screaming, and he’d reach to pry the wee bairn away. But he didn’t know his own strength…
Walking through the hallway now, so many years later, Cayne put his hand over his chest. He couldn’t bear to think of that.
Samyaza killed the mother, too, and then began searching the home, looking for information about other Stained. His head in a drawer when a bloody bairn thought dead had walked through the doorway of his parents’ room. He held a curtain rod like a sword and pointed it at Samyaza.
“You are a demon,” he said through chattering teeth. He lingered in the doorway, staring at Samyaza and Samyaza alone. “Where are my mommy and my daddy? You cannot hurt us. You are a demon and we are Chosen.”
And then the boy had stepped forward, a mighty avenger until his eyes swung to the left, where Cayuzul stood amidst the bodies of his parents.
Then he started howling. And it was the howling that came into Cayne’s sleep for many nights after, long after Samyaza laughed and lunged at the bairn, and the bairn dashed out the front door, running into traffic, falling and hitting his head and lying motionless amidst the cars.
And the howling would not relent. So Cayuzul did what he must: He defected, and lived alone, and only in his nightmares did he see the boy’s face.
He hadn’t recognized the face until that night in his cell. The boy had worn the same expression—that of a wordless howl—and Cayne thought he must have changed greatly, because it made his insides feel as if they were being twisted.
He felt that sensation again.
*
Nathan cursed himself as his hands curled into fists. There was no action he could take against the Nephilim. His ability, the power of suggestion, was meaningless against their kind, and even if it wasn’t, he had to get Julia back. If he attacked the Nephilim now, she would never agree to leave. A lot of people would die.
A long time before, the fierce, Nephilim Hunter had been known as Cayuzul. He was the protégé of the Nephilim king, Samyaza, and together the duo hunted down Candidates and their families. The Chosen had never worked out how Samyaza got his information. He didn’t seem to torture his victims; in fact, they often killed with a single stroke of his dagger.
Dissidents and defectors within the Chosen ranks sometimes whispered sacrilege: that The Three worked hand-in-hand with Samyaza, giving him the names of Candidates from some master list. The One would live, and killing the others would simply get them out of the way. Nathan had never believed it, but before his candidacy ended, he had he found it hard not to dwell on the truth that he had survived when his brother had not.
He could not deny that The Three worked in mysterious ways. But he had insight many others didn’t. He had spoken with them, and he knew the ancient one’s true identity. It was a secret he could not reveal to anyone, and he reflected that it was what made his faith stronger.
The rebel Chosen seemed to know who he was, too. But they had never spoken to The Three. They had wisdom possessed by no one outside Heaven.
Nathan’s muscles coiled as he heard footfall outside the door, and despite his careful control, the core of him recoiled. He could do this, he told himself. He could face the thing that killed his family because he, unlike the Hunter, was righteous.
The Hunter knocked, and Nathan took a deep breath. Then he pulled the door open.
His nightmare come to life was enough to drive the air out of his lungs. He almost staggered back, but managed to stay on his feet. Adrenaline rushed through him, the old fight or flight; years ago, he’d fled. Not anymore.
“What is your purpose here?” If he’d thought the Hunter looked large inside the tiny cell, he somehow managed to look larger now. Nathan could still see his charcoal colored wings, mighty things that ebbed and flowed in his murderous wake. They weren’t present at the moment, but Nathan knew they could easily rip through the thin black jacket covering the Hunter’s wide shoulders. No longer bloody from the Shepherds’ ministrations, Cayuzul wore black jeans and black boots, which along with the black jacket made his shrewd green eyes seem to glow. His hair was short, and for the first time Nathan noticed a gruesome scar near the base of his throat.
He stared at the Hunter, waiting for his blank face to twist into a scowl. His pulse pounded, and sweat beaded his face.
He remembered little of that day, but the blood…
“WHAT DO YOU WANT?”
“I wanted to warn you.” The Hunter’s low voice was…just a voice. An American voice with a hint of a burr, no other clues that this was a monster speaking, one able to walk the Earth indefinitely maiming the innocent. His jaw tightened, flexed, and his lips cracked peevishly. “I will protect Julia. You will not take her. You will not use her. You will not harm her or even think of it. You will leave this place, and you will forget her, because you will never have her. Do you understand? No curse, no leash, no headaches will be enough to draw her back to you. I will not let her go. Go and tell your leaders that.”
The leash again? Was he the group’s source of information? “Did you lie to my people? Did you tell them that our leaders are hurting Julia!”
The Hunter shook his head. “That’s real. You really don’t see it?”
Nathan did see red. “Shut your mouth Nephilim scum! I won’t stand by while you pretend to speak out of anything but malice!”
“I don’t care what you think. Stay away from her.”
“Tell me what you want with her!” Nathan demanded. “What is your purpose?”
“To keep her safe,” the monster growled. “I…care for her.” Nathan watched the scarred throat work to swallow. “And that means keeping her from you.”
Surprised gave way to stark outrage. “She is under no danger from us! We would never hurt her! I came to bring her under our protection. Julia will be honored. She will be the one who brings us closer to Heaven.”
“I thought she was killing Nephilim?”
Nathan scoffed. “Of course not. Your kind may die in the exchange, because you’re everything Heaven is not.”
“I don’t think you’re very well-informed. You should talk to the Stained here.”
“We’re not Stained,” Nathan growled.
“Chosen,” the Hunter amended, “and regardless, Julia is mine.”
Sometime in the last few minutes, Nathan’s head had started feeling hot. Now his cheeks burned, as if someone was holding a heater in front of his face. His eyes watered and his throat felt tight. “I don’t believe you.”
He could still remember the sight of his brother’s body—little Casey, not yet two. He’d been wearing his Power Ranger pajamas. When the Nephilim arrived, Nathan’s mother had sheltered Casey between her arms.
“I don’t want to look at you any longer,” he spat. “Go away.”
The Hunter shook his head, outwardly calm. “Do you really believe Julia will be treated well? Think about it. She’s nothing but a tool to them.”
“And what do you think she is to these…defectors! They want to use her, too! Against our leaders, who have done nothing but protect our
kind from you! And when the Alpha gets his chance to judge you— When the Alpha gets a chance—” Suddenly he couldn’t think. He was looking at the monster’s green eyes and his mind went blank and he could feel Samyaza’s dagger in his side, and he could see himself climbing onto the top bunk and wrestling the curtain rod as he bled all over the bed. The comforter was Power Rangers and the curtains were, too; the show had been his favorite.
He didn’t know what it was about remembering the show, but when he did—when he remembered the joy he’d felt watching his family’s TV, in the den with his brother and his parents, Saturday mornings eating cinnamon toast—Nathan lost it.
He lunged forward and bashed the Hunter in the face, and when he realized his mistake—his grave mistake—he threw the rest of himself into it, too: smashing the bastard’s nose, socking him in the mouth, going for his head. It took him a minute to realize he was fighting one-sided. The Hunter had his arms up, shielding many of Nathan’s wild punches, but he wasn’t throwing any of his own.
Nathan’s chest burned, it burned so strangely. He had the feeling that his soul might crawl out of his mouth. He staggered back, holding his chest, gasping, his gaze on the bloodied monster staring at him with cold eyes.
“I should kill you,” he gasped.
Blood ran down the Hunter’s chin, dripped on his coat. One of his brows was split in half and his cheek was bruising purple. His jaw, also swollen, tightened imperceptibly, and he folded his arms before his chest.
“Maybe,” he said softly. “But I won’t let you hurt her.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Late the next afternoon, Julia stood inside her room’s small closet in a long, sage green turtleneck sweater and a thong, and she rifled through her small pile of clothes, looking for her black leggings.
“Are you serious?” she asked, peeking out the half-shut closet door. Meredith, who was already dressed in a lilac cloak-dress with fringe around the hemline and the sleeves, nodded; her glossy black hair shone as she moved.
“He said he already has an account, and if you don’t want to talk to him in person, he’ll log in and talk to you through WoW.”
“Meredith. That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard of.” Nathan must be desperate, which did not make Julia feel good.
“I’m telling you, I really think he wants to make amends. Something bromance-y happened with him and Cayne. I can tell.”
“If it did,” Julia said, wiggling into the leggings, “Cayne did not tell me. He said he talked to Nathan, I asked if it went okay and he said yes, and then we—” Then they’d spent the evening making out in a vacant massage therapy suite. “Then we did a crossword puzzle.”
Mer arched a brow. “Pants on fire. And anyway, all I know is Nathan said if you don’t want to chat, he’ll stop going through me because that isn’t fair and he doesn’t want you to feel pestered. But that he really needs to tell you some things.”
Julia bit her lip to keep from rolling her eyes. “I really don’t feel like I have a choice, but okay. Whatever. I’ll friend his NeSlashwild the Orc man. I guess he can’t hurt me online.”
Meredith bit her lip, and Julia shrugged. “Sorry, I’m nervous. My head nearly exploded, remember?”
Meredith picked at the fringe on her dress, and Julia held up the heeled leather boots, which she’d finally found under a luggage rack. “Can I wear these?”
“Of course.”
“Please try not to take it personally. I just have to have my guard up.”
Mer sighed. “I know. And I’m with you over him, anyway.” She popped a piece of gum into her mouth.
“I wonder how he’s even here. How he got in. If they knew who he was, or that he was here, wouldn’t Nathan be on house arrest or room arrest or whatever? I almost am, and I’m not a bad guy.”
“Julia! Neither is Nathan.”
Julia covered her mouth. “Sorry… I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Yes you did, but I get it.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, he is kind of a tool. And the answer is, I guess maybe. I haven’t asked him about that.”
Julia grinned. According to Carlin, Meredith had returned to the room only an hour before Julia had. (“It was one-thirty in the morning and I was dead asleep,” she’d complained—as she’d soaked, totally immodest, in the tub during Julia’s morning shower.) “Are you sure he isn’t really here just for you?”
Mer’s lips quirked up. “I wish.” She leaned over to the mirror and refreshed her lipstick, then grabbed Carlin’s Ricci Ricci perfume.
So Nathan wasn’t here to stay. He was here on behalf of The Three—and that was scary. As soon as she found him online, she was going to have to tell him to get lost.
As for her own fate… Jacquie had called the room phone the night before and promised to talk to Julia sometime today about her ‘options’. Cayne would definitely need to accompany her for the conversation, but so far Jacquie hadn’t contacted her.
“Ready?” Mer asked. “Do you remember the room number?”
“103.”
“WoW?” Mer said.
“WoW.” Julia linked arms with Meredith and pushed through the door—right into Jacquie.
*
The Authorities were becoming a problem. The bastards were all over the grounds, and most of them were burning Edan’s ass. They’d slacked off in the last few hours—probably sensing a change in the Force—but before that, he’d spent the past few days moving from room to room, woman to woman. The Authorities were reluctant to target him in the confines of a private human room. Although they could wipe memories when necessary, a house-cleaning job by an Authority left humans with a negative, pessimistic feeling afterward—and that was likely bad for business at the resort.
Edan’s current beneficiary was Dee, a flighty but attractive brunette in her late ’20s. He’d found her in one of the breakfast lounges, listening to folk music on her iPhone, and since then they’d been heating up a sauna. With a haze on the small, square window cut into the wooden door, the Authorities couldn’t see inside, and unless they tried very hard, they wouldn’t be able to sense him. Edan was endowed with certain…abilities not common to the goody-goodies or their fallen brothers.
Just like it was uncommon to find a being of Edan’s magnificence doing what he did.
Well, doing what he was here to do.
What he was actually doing was Dee.
The woman, sprawled across his chest, giggled, her warm breath puffing on his bristly chin, and Edan lifted her easily, wrapping her legs around his waist and pushing her against the door. His lips touched down on her earlobe, traveling lower as his hands—
Your behavior is not per the terms of our agreement with your master. You know your—
Edan groaned as he broke the iron-strong link inside his head. Methuselah had put a surprising amount of effort into that one.
Dee groaned, too, and he turned his body on auto-pilot while his mind went somewhere else.
Ego-fucking-maniac. It was true, Edan’s superior had made his allegiances for him, years ago, back when his original job had gone the way of the dodo. But now his job was back, in the most literal sense, and if his superior wanted that done, he couldn’t be worried about pleasing that ancient ass, crazy ass bastard who wanted him to—
Know your place, scum.
He recoiled, snapping the lid back on his mental self-control, and put his hand above Dee’s head, on the window. As she pressed her body against his, he wiped it clean.
Maybe it would be refreshing to get his ass kicked.
He was rocking Dee’s world, trying to contain his glee over the excitement that was knocking at the door of House of the Gods, trying to keep his mind like a steel trap, when Dee did something amazing and his eyes popped open—just in time to see Carlin walking by, fiddling with her purse and looking her usual confident, although Edan happened to know she was walking the wrong way; only a large supply closet lay at the end of that hallway.
Goddamnit, s
he was beautiful.
He kissed Dee one more time and followed Carlin.
*
“What happened?” Cayne ran his hand up Julia’s arm, then pulled her close, planting a kiss on top of her head as he pulled the string to the light bulb once, casting darkness over them.
He and Julia had stepped into a janitors’ closet a few doors down from the night’s WoW base so she could recount what Jacquie had told her.
“She said they might have a solution for the leash. Something about how if you go with one of the Authorities to Heaven’s gates, all your ‘earthly’ binds are removed.”
“Your earthly everything is removed,” Cayne said wryly. “I doubt you have a human form there.”
“She said she planned to talk to one of them. I think she already has, but I guess maybe this time she meant like…be ready for it.”
Cayne’s thumb stroked her temple. “That’s more good news than bad—as long as the Authorities don’t need you for something of their own. What do you think?”
“I think I just wanna go learn how to play World of Warcraft.”
“Did she say anything else?”
“She tried to explain why they don’t want me to leave. How if The Three got their hands on me, it would be really bad. Like I don’t know that.” Julia rolled her eyes. “I guess she’d die if she knew about Nathan.”
“Is there no Chosen that can spot him?”
Julia shrugged. “I’m sure there is someone, but maybe they haven’t looked. I doubt Nathan has left his room. I meant to ask you…what happened yesterday with you and him?”
“I told him you weren’t going back.”
“And he said?”
“Not much. He needs to leave.”
“It would be better if he agreed to stay.”
“Maybe.”
“You don’t think so? You think The Three would be better?”
“No—it’s not that.”
“You think Nathan is a threat?”
