Wings Horns and Shifters

by Lacey Carter Andersen

  Opening her car door, she stepped out, ignoring Daniel’s protests. In the bright night sky, she saw the angels as they flew. They wanted her to see them, but why?

  They could teleport wherever they wanted. So why fly? What point were they making?

  “Surcy?”

  She spun.

  Mark stood, gripping the trunk of tree. His face was a swollen, battered mess. His glasses were gone. One eye was swollen closed, and blood ran down his neck.

  She raced toward him, catching him under his arm and trying to keep him upright. Tears choked her throat. They’d done this. Those angel bastards had hurt him! Sweet, gentle Mark!

  “Brother!” Daniel came at them like a bat-out-of-hell.

  He froze in front of them. “Who did this? Where are they?”

  Mark spit blood, sagging forward as Daniel caught him. “Angels. Gone.”

  Tension radiated from Daniel as they half-lifted, half-dragged Mark toward the car. When he helped his brother in and closed the door, he made a quiet promise. “Someone is going to suffer for this.”

  As Surcy climbed into the seat next to them, her thoughts echoed his words. Yes. Someone will pay. At home, they struggled but finally managed to get Mark and Tristan both into bed. The two men looked awful, but they would heal. And most importantly, they’d live.

  As she paced the living room, she couldn't stop shaking. She wasn’t scared. Far from it. In fact, she wanted to hurt someone. Badly.

  Daniel entered the room. He’d showered. His blond hair looked darker wet, and he hadn’t bothered to comb it into his normally neat hairdo. It spiked all over his head in a way that was far too tempting. He wore no shirt, and a pair of grey sweat pants that hung so low on his hips that her jaw dropped.

  “It isn’t polite to stare.”

  Her gaze jerked up. And Daniel, damn him, was grinning ear-to-ear.

  Her cheeks heated. “I wasn’t staring! I’m just—frustrated!”

  “Me too. I’m not used to going this long without sex.”

  Her mouth dropped open again. “That wasn’t what I meant at all, and you know it!”

  “Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He went to the wet bar and made himself a drink. “Want one?”

  It took her a second to answer him. “No, thanks.”

  He shrugged, grabbed his drink, and plopped down on the couch. “So, what’s got such a pretty woman so frustrated?”

  She rolled her eyes. “How about the fucking angels who beat up Mark? How about Tristan nearly dying from those Shadow Hounds?”

  He took a slow sip of his drink. “No one ever said doing the right thing wouldn’t get you bitch-slapped all over town.”

  “That’s all you have to say?”

  “What do you want me to say?” He stared. “That it isn’t fair. That it isn’t right. What good would that do?”

  She shook her head. “But this whole thing is wrong. My mind is a scramble of things I know, even though I have no idea how I know them. And one thing I’m sure of is that demons are the ones that are supposed to be taking advantage of people. They hurt humans and cause chaos, and it’s an angel’s job to keep them in line.”

  His mouth curled into a smile that was sexy-as-hell. “That’s the thing. Just because you’re told something enough times doesn’t make it true.”

  She threw her hands in the air and stomped over to him, plopping herself on the couch next to him. Without asking, she grabbed his drink and took a long drink. “God,” she winced and handed it back to him. “That’s awful!”

  He laughed. “You never did like scotch. You could drink margaritas until you were belting karaoke, but you always turned your nose up at the hard stuff.”

  Staring straight ahead, she spoke without thinking. “It’s so weird not knowing who I am, but I bet it’s stranger for you guys.”

  “It sucks about as bad as reaching for a steak and getting tofu, that’s for sure.”

  She smiled and looked at him. “You’re actually a little funny.”

  He winked. “Don’t tell.”

  “So, what happens now?”

  His humor vanished. “We let them heal up, and then we go help another person.”

  We’re going to do this all over again?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Three days later, Daniel stood on another building, his brothers and Surcy standing beside him. They were on a beautiful tropical island, with a large city weaved throughout the lush landscape. The next god would be found here.

  At least that’s what Mark had Seen.

  His brother’s visions often showed him a place. He’d send Surcy the image through his thoughts, and she could take them there. But it wasn’t until they were closer that Mark could get a clear image. All he knew was that the god would be found in that location.

  It’s why all those years as a child he didn’t understand what he was seeing when he used the magic, but he felt it tugging at him, and he knew it was important.

  The night was well-lit by the moon and a sky of speckled stars. Below them, lights sprinkled across the city like a reflection of the sky. It was beautiful. The kind of place they would have loved to take Surcy. She loved the ocean. She’d fold her stunning wings and let the waves tug at her feet.

  But tonight they weren’t there to make love to her in the sand. They were there to save a life.

  Once we know who we are here to save, and where to go.

  Mark released his necklace, breathing hard. “I see where he is. And... I think we need to hurry.”

  Daniel tried not to look at his brother. As far as he knew, Mark had always had the necklace, but he’d stopped using it a long time ago. He said it had a negative effect on him. Yet, he never told them what it was.

  Now, Daniel couldn’t shake the feeling that Mark was doing something dangerous each time he used the powerful magic. He wanted to order him not to, but he knew he couldn’t.

  As Mark had explained to him, this was too important not to take whatever risks necessary. Mr. Rule Follower suddenly seems more reckless than me. Daniel didn’t like it.

  He yanked open the door on the roof and made his way down the apartment building stairs. It was deja vu of their last rescue. He just prayed it went better than the first.

  “This place is kind of creepy,” Surcy whispered.

  Daniel stiffened. There was something a little off, but he couldn’t quite place what it was.

  “It’s night,” Mark said reassuringly, “and we know we’re doing something dangerous. That’s all it is.”

  Surcy wrapped her arms around herself. “And why exactly did we have to do this at night?”

  My thoughts too.

  A strange look came over Mark’s face. Does he look paler than usual? “He is the God of the Night.”

  “Well, I guess that makes sense,” Daniel muttered under his breath. Maybe next time we’ll look for the Gods of Good Coffee.

  When they exited onto the street, the sidewalks were busy. Most of the humans looked like tourists, drunk and happy.

  I wish.

  They moved through the streets, Mark in the lead. Daniel stayed on high alert, scanning the crowds for angels, but he saw none. Still, he wore a short sword, like his brothers, hidden at his back beneath a leather jacket. He missed his soul-blade so fiercely his chest ached at times, but the steel of this sword was strong and well-made.

  The best we can hope for.

  As he saw a couple kissing, he almost froze. They looked happy, relaxed.

  Sometimes he wondered about the choices they made. He didn’t tell his brothers, but his mind was full of doubts.

  They were skilled demons. Capable of manipulation. Strong and intelligent. If they turned away from their goal, if they ignored Caine’s tyranny, they had everything they needed to have a happy life.

  Even Surcy. Sort of.

  And yet, they risked it all. For other people who will likely never know everything we sacrificed for them.

  He hated putting his brothers and
Surcy in danger. Their lives had been hard enough. They deserved to stumble through the streets of a tropical city, drunk and kissing.

  Daniel almost smiled, but instead, he looked at his brothers and Surcy. Mark still limped a bit. And even though the bruises had healed from his skin, he often winced as he went throughout his day.

  Why couldn’t we have waited a couple more days?

  But Mark had insisted. It had to be tonight.

  They walked for an hour, until they reached the end of the city limits. Climbing up a narrow road that led up a small mountain, they walked closer to each other. There were no streetlamps on the little road, and the woods seemed to close in.

  Daniel inhaled the moist air. “Does anyone else smell smoke?”

  And suddenly, Mark started to run. They followed. Not asking questions. Not calling out. The sense of foreboding had increased to a level that everyone knew something bad had happened.

  They were just waiting to know what.

  As they broke out of the jungle, they stared, frozen. A massive mansion, hidden behind a huge stone fence, was burning.

  Daniel felt his blood heat and his pulse race. The flames called to him, just as they always did. He licked his lips, curling his hands into fists.

  I will not.

  “This doesn’t look good,” he said, hoping the others didn’t notice the way his voice shook with need. “Come on,” Mark said.

  Daniel frowned. “If the god is in there, he’s dead.”

  Mark ignored him. Crouching low for a moment, he leapt more than twenty feet in the air and landed lightly on top of the fence. Surcy and Tristan followed suit.

  Daniel took a deep breath, inhaling the intoxicating smoky air. A shiver moved over his flesh, and his groin tightened. Cursing his lack of restraint, he leapt onto the fence top beside his brother.

  “He’s there!” Mark said, pointing at the window of a room near the top of the castle.

  The flames hadn’t quite reached the room, but the dark smoke cloaked the top of the building in a screen.

  “The smoke would have killed him.” Daniel told him, knowing without a doubt.

  “He’s not dead yet,” Mark said, then turned hopeful eyes to Daniel. “You can still save him.”

  Daniel stiffened. “No.”

  “Daniel...”

  “No!” He growled, anger lacing the word. “You know I can’t.”

  Mark’s eyes narrowed. “We’re all making sacrifices.”

  “I’m in fucking recovery, Asshole.”

  Angrily, Daniel leapt from the gate and started toward the burning house, even though the closer he got the more tempted he became. He wanted to touch the flames. To taste the smoke.

  Mark was suddenly in front of him. “You need to. We’ll help you after—“

  “This is bullshit.” He turned to face Tristan, whose face was as emotionless as ever. “You two are the ones who made me quit.”

  Tristan cocked his head. “You’re hiding your fear behind anger. It's understandable. You don’t want to be a slave to your needs again. But Mark is right, we’re all taking risks. This is a risk for you, but it’s one you’re strong enough to recover from.”

  “What are you guys talking about?” Surcy asked, hands on her hips. “If someone’s trapped in those flames, how can Daniel help?”

  Mark answered without hesitation. “He’s a fire mage.”

  Her brows rose. “So, he can control fire? That’s a good thing, right? Because that’s just about the only thing that can help right now.”

  Daniel’s stomach twisted. “You know why you don’t meet a lot of fire mages? Because we have the nasty habit of overindulging in fire and getting ourselves killed.”

  “Overindulging?” she said, frowning.

  “Fire is like a drug to them,” Tristan replied simply. “And there’s a limit to how much fire their bodies can take. It’s also the reason for Daniel’s death. You can imagine all the fire in the demon-realm. It was very hard for him to resist, but with our help, he recovered from it.”

  “Recovered?” Surcy inquired.

  “We don’t have time for this!” Mark’s gaze was frantic. “Save him!”

  “The angels will know we’re here.” Daniel warned, knowing that he was about to give into the fire. He wanted it so badly that it scared him.

  “Who the hell do you think lit this fire?” Mark asked. “They knew we’d be here. They wanted us to find him dead.”

  Daniel stiffened. He’s right.

  “Tristan, can you take me to the top.” Even though I fucking hate flying.

  His brother nodded. In an instant his skin changed to the stunning color of wet stone, and grey wings spread behind his back. Wordlessly, Tristan grabbed him beneath the arms and lifted him up.

  Keep your head, Daniel ordered himself.

  As they rose higher and closer to the house, the heat from the fire overwhelmed him. It felt so damned good. He closed his eyes, glorying in the smoke and the heat. His mind spun. How had he gone so long without touching fire? He’d thought being exposed to the fireplace in their home had slowly numbed his deep need to indulge, but it had all been a lie.

  When Daniel reached the window, he raised his hand and harnessed the power of the flames. Instantly, the fire moved through him. The smoke parted back from the window, and a groan tore from his lips.

  Tristan deposited him in the window and flew away. Daniel knew Tristan could endure the high heat, but like most, avoided it when he could.

  For a moment, Daniel didn’t move. Instead, he called the flames to him. They coated his body, racing along his skin. His emotions dulled and his senses awakened. He felt so damned good, alive for the first time since his death. He needed this. He was a fool to convince himself otherwise.

  “Is someone,” the man’s voice was interrupted by a series of deep coughs, “there?”

  Daniel shuddered. Focus. God damn it. I've got to get him out of here.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  Using his abilities, he parted the smoke in front of him and stared, not believing the sight before him. Those angels are fucked up.

  The man had been nailed to the wall. Blood ran from the wounds in his arms and legs, and his head hung, as if he hadn’t the strength to raise it. As Daniel came closer to him, the man lifted his head. His skin was pale beneath the soot that coated him, and as his lips parted, Daniel spotted two sharpened canines.

  A vampire is the God of the Night. The Fates must have had a field day with that one.

  “Are you here to help, mage?” he questioned, eyelids drooping.

  Daniel stiffened, remembering his purpose. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  Kneeling before the vampire, he gripped one of the nails in his leg. He hesitated.

  “Do it,” the vampire murmured.

  Daniel nodded and pulled.

  The vampire’s scream came, raw and choked. He probably screamed like hell when they put them in.

  Daniel didn’t hesitate. He moved to the next one and the next one. He tried to block out the screams of the vampire, but he could still hear them. Knowing that he was hurting an innocent like this turned his stomach, and yet he knew slowing down could cost them both their lives.

  The smoke continued to thicken. Daniel pushed it back with his powers, but he could sense the flames devouring the wood in the floors beneath their feet. Soon everything would come crashing down, and he planned for them to be far from there when it did.

  Standing, Daniel kicked the dozen or more nails out of the way and reached for the ones going through the vampire’s palms and arms. It took a painfully long time to yank them all out, but when he was done, the man sagged into his arms.

  Daniel dragged him through the house, his pulse racing each time the floorboards creaked. When he got to the window, he sent flames shooting out in a signal he knew his brother would understand. Within a minute, Tristan had returned. Silently, he handed the vampire to his brother.

  “I’ll return,”
Tristan promised.

  He nodded, watching as they shot back to the ground.

  Daniel turned back to the room and froze. Something was written on the wall in blood, behind where the vampire had been nailed. Moving closer to it, he squinted, struggling to put the words together.

  Got yah.

  He frowned. Clearly if they had gotten to this room and found the vampire they knew that the angels were involved. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

  Reaching out, he touched the wall. It was a mistake. He could feel the fire on the other side of the wall. The heat and power of the flames crashed through him like waves.

  He gasped, and every hair on his body stood on end. He forgot the weird message. He forgot his purpose. Instead, he coaxed the flames to tear through the wall. They obeyed, reaching to touch his palm, to sweep over and through him.

  His entire body heated. He groaned, feeling his eyes roll back into his head. It felt so good to taste it again, so good to give himself to the magic.

  A warning rang somewhere in the back of his head. Fire mages weren’t immune to flames. They could handle a lot of fire, but even they had a limit.

  Which is exactly how he died not so long ago.

  But the warning drifted away like smoke, and everything grew bright and beautiful. There was no pain, no worries. Nothing but the fire.

  He swore it spoke his name. Shouted his name. But the flames couldn’t speak.

  His eyes closed, and he felt himself being carried away into euphoria. Into heaven.

  And then, the fire was gone. His eyes snapped open. He was in the air. Far from the house. His legs dangling over the sky. The ground far below.

  He swore.

  Tristan spoke from above him. “Calm brother.”

  But the fire! He could still feel it. Taste it. He needed more and he needed it now!

  He struck out at the gargoyle who carried him. But the massive stone creature didn’t flinch. Tristan continued to fly him above the castle, in lazy circles.

  “Put me down!” he roared.

  “Not until you’ve gained control of yourself once more.”

  “I’m in control,” he grated out, but Tristan ignored him.