Seal of Destiny (Seven Seals Series Book 1)

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Seal of Destiny (Seven Seals Series Book 1) Page 5

by Douglass, Traci


  Then Mira crossed his line of vision to sink down on the opposite end of the sofa. Oca! He stared at the screen ahead, feeling her gaze on him while she ate. Kagan grabbed a toss pillow to hold atop his lap and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He searched the room for anything to draw his attention from the female beside him while he struggled to get his libido under control.

  “Explain to me again why you aren’t dead?” The leather cushion hissed beneath her when she shifted.

  He pushed off the sofa and walked to the kitchen to retrieve his beer. Kagan downed the remainder in one swig then pulled another from the fridge. “We’ve been over this already, Mira. I’m different.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She gave a flippant wave. “But what exactly are you? An alien?”

  Kagan snorted. “No. I’m a Scion.”

  Mira frowned. “What the hell’s a Scion? McClaine used the name too.”

  A modicum of control returning, he walked back into the living room and leaned against the window ledge, still not trusting himself to sit on the sofa again. “The Scion are the immortal warriors of Divinity. We serve as she commands.” Now, his turn for questions. “Who’s McClaine?”

  “Wow! Thanks for the detailed explanation. Everything’s clear as smoke now.” She threw her hands up, exasperated. “And McClaine’s the guy you killed.”

  Argus’s new host was named McClaine. He filed the information away to discuss with Xander.

  She pressed on. “Who’s Divinity?”

  “Patience isn’t your strong suit, is it, piccola?” Mira shot him a glare and Kagan stifled the urge to laugh. “Divinity’s had a lot of names over the years, but she’s The One.”

  “Like God?” she asked, her gaze narrowing.

  “Si.” He set his beer on the ledge. “That’s one of the titles she uses.”

  “You expect me to believe you were selected by God to serve as her immortal badass?” She crossed her arms.

  “Hmm. Kagan, Immortal Badass. Che figo!” He laughed, ducking to avoid the balled-up napkin she threw at his head.

  “You can’t die? Ever?” Her focus shifted to the view out the window.

  Kagan shrugged and stared at the floor. “I’ve met my quota on deaths. Any more is up for debate. Divinity brought me back to life so — forse — she’s the only one able to kill me.”

  “What about your wounds from earlier?” Mira studied his chest.

  “Gone.” He gave her a wink.

  She shook her head. “Nope, don’t believe you. I need to see.”

  “Oh, a doubting Thomas, huh?” He removed his shirt, thankful his body was under control. “See,” he said, waving his hand over his shoulder. “No holes.”

  He turned full circle. His smile faded when he registered her flushed face. Her pink tongue flicked out to wet her lips, and his damn cock bolted to attention. Vaff! His immortal cazzo was going for a world-record this night.

  Kagan faked a huge yawn and pulled his shirt on pronto. “I’m beat.”

  “What?” Mira frowned. “Hey, wait a minute. I’ve got more questions.”

  “We’ll talk in the morning.” Kagan gathered up their trash. Once he’d finished, he gave her a pointed stare. “Mira, we’re both tired, and we’ll only end up saying or doing something we’ll regret, so let’s call it a night, si?”

  Her shoulders drooped. “Fine. Where do I sleep?”

  “You take the bed. I’ll stay on the sofa.” Kagan shut off the lights in the kitchen then pulled a pillow and blanket out of the closet.

  “Great. I hope you don’t snore,” she said as she climbed between the sheets of the king-sized bed.

  “Nope, no snoring. Not that anybody’s complained about, anyway.” She made a face and he grinned. Kagan hit the main light switch then pulled off his shirt and boots before stretching out on the couch. “Goodnight, piccola.”

  “What the hell does piccola mean anyway?”

  “Little one, in Italian.” He smiled, remembering the way she swam inside his clothes.

  “Umph!” He heard her punch the pillow on his bed. Soon, Mira’s soft snores filled the room. Kagan laughed out loud before settling into sleep.

  Chapter 4

  Divinity waited in the chilly morning air, foot tapping beneath the small café table, a cup of dark Sumatran brew steaming before her.

  “Where is he?” She glanced at her precision Swiss timepiece, her irritation mounting.

  “’Ello, dearie. Miss me?”

  She snapped around, staking him to the ground with a perturbed glare. “About time you arrived. I’ve been waiting here for over an hour, Devil. I’m extremely busy, and you’re beyond late!”

  “Tsk, tsk.” The man set his mug on the table. “Anger doesn’t become you. And you know I prefer the ancient names.”

  Divinity couldn’t care less about his preferences. “We have things to discuss, Devil.”

  She looked over the latest transformation of her nemesis and frowned. His latest choice of façade was a dapper young man with wavy dark hair, although Lucifer’s eyes remained unchanged. Wicked eyes filled with the fire of damnation. Which human had he corrupted to possess such an innocent face?

  “Like it?” He glanced up, catching her mid-perusal. “Little bugger hardly fought at the end, only wailed like an infant. Abject surrender ruins the enjoyment, you know?” Lucifer smirked, his low whisper full of mock disappointment as he surveyed her with an impassive glance. “You look the same as always, dearie. The eternal mother of all, only sexier.”

  She glared, leaning across the table, her temper sizzling. “I want your word you’ll adhere to the Agreement.”

  “Ah, the Agreement. I’d forgotten.” He watched her over the rim of his mug, his obsidian gaze sardonic. “What was I was supposed to do again?”

  Her glacial fury would have frozen a lesser being solid. As it was, the edges of his three-piece ensemble merely steamed a bit. Divinity allowed her anger to dissipate before she continued, her tone a perfect, placid lake of serenity. “You’re not to open the Seals. Not yet. Not until everything is in place. Remember?”

  “Oh, right.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes. I remember. What makes you think I’m going to break the Agreement?”

  Quick as perdition, her ire returned. “Dammit, Devil! Don’t treat me as anything less than the omnipotent being I am. You do so at your own peril!”

  His deep growl rumbled forth in answer. “Did you call me here to provoke me, woman? If so, mission accomplished.”

  “Why is your demon stalking the girl?”

  He met her level gaze, a red flame firing to life in his pupils. Lucifer slammed his mug on the table and a small tremor shook the ground. The humans around them scampered.

  “Control yourself, Devil. Look what you did!” She gestured toward the trash and debris scattered everywhere. The once peaceful street now resembled a war zone. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

  “You can’t survive without me, and you know it.” He managed to look affronted, blinking his eyes in fake innocence. “Besides, who else makes your life as much fun as me?”

  She regarded him like something disgusting she’d discovered on the bottom of her shoe. “What are you going to do about Argus?”

  He grinned, his chin resting atop his steepled fingers. “Missing your prodigal son?”

  “Argus made his own choices a long time ago. Now he must live with the consequences.” She studied him, unable to resist the pleasure of a well-placed taunt. “You of all people should understand missed opportunities, Devil.”

  They stared for several long moments, neither blinking nor looking away.

  At last, he picked up his coffee, his hand twitching while he brought the mug to his lips. “Argus is expendable.”

  “Good. I’ve got my warri
ors covering the situation. They will take him down, make no mistake.” Lucifer ignored her statement, instead choosing to fuss with his suit and lament the lack of modern day quality. She waited until she’d regained his attention before continuing. “My vaults were breached. Several items were taken. Do you know anything about the thefts?”

  He squinted at an overturned trashcan nearby. “Bad girl. You should be above stereotyping. If you must know, someone’s been snooping in my private lair as well. I thought maybe one of your boy-toy Scion might have been assigned the task.”

  Divinity snorted. “Hardly, Devil. If you had anything I wanted, I’d simply take it.”

  Lucifer stared, his lips spreading into a decadent grin. “You know how I love it when you get rough.”

  She fixed him with a hard gaze. Storm clouds raged above their table and lightning flashed all around. Lucifer wiggled on his seat and adjusted his French cuffs, appearing completely undisturbed by the surrounding tempest. He relented only after a gale force wind dislodged his carefully tucked kerchief and sent it hurtling through the atmosphere in a streak of billowing crimson silk. “Fine, you have my word I won’t break your precious Agreement.”

  She stood, her smile ripe with satisfaction. “Your word isn’t worth a damn, Devil. But I have the answers I came for.”

  “I haven’t told you anything.” His long, black claws emerged to dig into the metal tabletop.

  “You didn’t have to, dearie.” She strode away. The weather improved with each step she took. Before she disappeared, Divinity turned to face him one last time, her expression serious and her tone final. “Stop tormenting the girl. I know about the nightmares.”

  “What nightmares?” He flashed her a guilty-schoolboy smile. “You can’t blame me for wanting to know my own spawn.”

  • • •

  “Mira! Mira, wake up!”

  She squinted into the bright light.

  “C’mon, piccola. It’s me, Kagan.” He studied her, his expression unreadable as she shook off the remnants of the nightmare.

  “What the hell’s going on?” Her voice sounded groggy, the words clumped and sticky. She pushed into a sitting position, and the golden expanse of Kagan’s chest filled her vision. Her eyes fell to the odd mark below his navel. Not a tattoo, more like a brand. She faltered and he gave her one last, brisk shake, rattling her teeth. Her irritation levels soared. “Stop shaking me, dammit! I’m not a rag doll.”

  “You were having one hell of a nightmare, Mira. I tried to wake you gently, but you didn’t respond.” His hands now rubbed the chilled skin of her arms. She warmed beneath his narrowed gaze. “What were you dreaming about? Your screams could’ve woken the dead.”

  “I don’t remember.” Mira stared at the white sheets. Liar.

  She remembered, all right, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him. He’d only mistake her dream for another sign of his delusional mission. She pushed farther up in the bed and pulled the covers to her chin. He crossed his arms and she glanced away.

  “Hmm.” He reached to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, and she flinched, her gaze trained on the safety of the sheets. Kagan ducked down and caught her eye with a smile. “I’m glad you’re all right. You are okay, si piccola?”

  “I’m fine.” Mira scowled, her tone snapping with frustration. The damn tingle reappeared to spread like a flame in dry tinder. His heat enveloped her and his rich scent tickled her nose. The gentle prod of his kindness ignited a desperate want for more. His weight pushed off the mattress and she closed her eyes tight, clenching her fists to stop from reaching out for him. What the hell was happening to her?

  “Bene.” Kagan retreated. He was halfway across the room when he turned back. “You were dreaming of Lucifer?”

  “What?” Mira’s hands bunched the sheets. Lucifer. The Devil. The name made her heart race faster. Images of her nightmare lounge fiend flashed into her mind. “Nope. Don’t remember.”

  Kagan returned to her bedside, the question clear in his midnight blue eyes. “Strange. You screamed his name, several times.”

  Mira fussed with the duvet. “Why would I dream about the devil, Kagan?”

  “You must tell me everything, piccola.” He grasped her chin and forced her gaze to his. “I can’t protect you if you hold back information.”

  She jerked her chin away. What she needed was for him to leave her the hell alone. “I don’t need your protection.”

  He stared for a long moment. She fidgeted under the scrutiny, uncomfortable with their newfound sudden intimacy. The mattress dipped again. He leaned closer and cupped her cheek. His thumb stroked along her cheekbone before his palm slipped to the back of her head and tugged her forward. Her mouth trembled as his face descended. Expectant. Waiting. Scared shitless and aching, all at once.

  He neared and her eyes slid closed, her lips hypersensitive, awaiting his touch. Then his kiss brushed her forehead, the touch feather-light, and some barrier deep inside fissured. A tiny, blinding flutter of fear beat against her mind. This man — her so-called sworn protector — was capable of shattering her to pieces.

  “Goodnight, piccola.” His voice washed over her, a comforting salve to her blistering pulse. Mouth dry, Mira stared at the smooth skin of his throat, the rhythm of his heart beating steady and strong against the surface. Her steeled resolve returned at his exodus. The tender exposed areas of her soul calloused beneath the searing onslaught of her vehement denials. Kagan doesn’t care about you. Doesn’t even like you. You’re nothing but a job to him. A burden. He clicked off the light, and Mira blinked into the thick dark, the hand she’d raised toward him falling back to the sheets.

  “Only sweet dreams from now on, Mira.” The rich honey of his voice purred through the night, rekindling her need.

  She burrowed under the covers and drifted to sleep, her aching heart cocooned in a haze of vanilla and sandalwood.

  • • •

  Kagan woke several hours later, a zing of electricity coasting along his nerves. Argus! He sprang off his makeshift bed and assumed an attack stance, his eyes darting in the pre-dawn grayness. Xander stepped into view. His commander shot him an amused look before taking a seat at the kitchen table and speaking. “From the snoring lump in your bed, I’d say you made the pickup.”

  Kagan scrubbed a hand over his face and yawned, the tension leaving his body. He loved Xander like a brother, but the man’s timing left much to be desired.

  The tang of fresh-brewed coffee registered. Xander raised his mug. “Want some?” Kagan grunted on the way to the bathroom, stopping to scratch his butt as he went.

  “Charming,” Xander called out from behind him. Kagan slammed the door shut. Xander’s muffled statements about the mundane continued while Kagan used the facilities and brushed his teeth. Xander was still talking when Kagan returned, as though nothing had happened. “Che cosa? Why are you here so early?” Kagan asked as he wandered into the kitchen. “And keep your voice low, Mira’s sleeping.”

  “It’s after six.” Xander gave him a patient look. Kagan noted several strands of white now gleaming against Xander’s otherwise black hair. It was near impossible for immortals to go gray after their change. Only great stress or sorrow could cause the color shift. Kagan wondered what the hell had happened to Xander since he’d last seen him.

  Xander looked across the open expanse of the warehouse loft toward the snoring lump in Kagan’s bed. “How is she?”

  Kagan took the seat across from him and shrugged. “As well as expected. Things got messy after Argus found us.”

  “Yes. Divinity told me of his arrival.” Xander’s tone was flat, quiet. He looked out the window, paused. “You didn’t do anything stupid, right, Kagan?”

  “You mean like kill him?” Kagan clenched his mug, his scowl deepening. “I’m not an idiot, Xan. I know the orders. I only put
him out of commission for the night.”

  “Any ideas where Argus is now?” Xander traced a fingertip around the rim of his cup, his brow furrowed.

  “No, and that’s a problem. I won’t move Mira until she’s safe.”

  “Hmm. On a first name basis, huh?” Xander’s attention zeroed on Kagan, his penetrating silver gaze narrowed. “What else did you share with her?”

  “Only the essentials. She was frightened. I concentrated on making her comfortable and safe.” An uncomfortable niggle of guilt nipped at Kagan’s conscience as images of he and Mira on the bed surfaced. Nothing had happened, nothing Xander needed to know about. “Why shouldn’t we be on a first-name basis?”

  Xander crossed his arms. “Did you sleep with her?”

  “Dai! No, I didn’t sleep with her. She’s my target!” Kagan glowered at Xander, insulted his commanding officer and best friend would think him so weak. “You taught me better.”

  “Rule number one.” Xander flashed a rueful smile.

  “Si.” Kagan forced a slow grin, fiddling with his mug. “Never forgot that rule. Some of the others, not so much.”

  “Yes, always my best student.” Xander snorted and rolled his eyes, sprawling in his chair and stretching out his long legs. “So she knows about the organization, your immortality?”

  “I got shot last night. Twice. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out I should’ve been dead or close to it. She asked me point blank. What was I supposed to tell her?” Kagan shifted in his seat. “Doesn’t matter, anyway. She thinks I’m pazzo or an alien or something.”

  “You always did have a way with the ladies.”

  Xander chuckled and Kagan gave him a one-finger salute before continuing. “Then there’s the complication of Argus. She recognized him.”

  “The demon?”

  “No. His host. She said they have ‘history.’” Kagan used air quotes then dropped his hands, realizing what he’d done. “How’s she going to react when he walks through the door again? Oca! This mission is una cazzata!”

 

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