Holy shit. He was a moron. He lowered the blade. “Talk fast.”
She had the decency to appear stunned. “The Renegades took me in and gave me a purpose. Though exiled, I was not a threat to the Directorate. That allowed me freedom to remain in contact with a few acquaintances in Heaven, which provided information beneficial to the Renegades’ goals.”
“You’re a goddamned traitor.”
Mariel’s eyes darkened and she crossed her arms. “My associates have been hunted by Heaven and by the Bound Ones for centuries. The Directorate continues to do the unthinkable to their own kind and to any other race they deem have broken sacred law.”
Listening to her cranked his heart rate. Kas didn’t disagree. Yet.
“Let me ask you, Kasdeja. What is sacred law?”
“You know.”
“Do I? They began with the Ten Commandments and added to that list over time.” Mariel bent and picked up her discarded cloak. “Elves who do not inform Heaven of new rituals break sacred law. Vampires who do not share their ill-gotten gains break sacred law. Werewolves who hunt outside of moon cycles break sacred law. Notice the pattern?”
He hated that she made sense. “Anything without the Directorate’s approval breaks sacred law.”
“It is a catchall they use to remain in power—over everyone. Sacred law is what the Directorate says it is.”
And his team, bound as they were, enforced those laws on order from the angel board. The Bound resisted when they could, spared those who didn’t seem a threat, but his brothers could never end the control that disabled them.
“Nothing new there, lady.”
He was a killer, little better than a mob enforcer following the dictates of a sadistic group of angels. Even now, the heavy weight of duty compelled him to kill her.
Mariel bundled the cloak in her arms. “The Renegades knew this, long ago, and they rebelled and chose to live among humans.”
“They didn’t only live among humans, they bred,” Kas said in a tight voice. “I’m living proof. Nephilim were born, and thanks to our shortsighted sires, we paid one helluva price.”
A memory rose to the surface. His village was small, insignificant. A bunch of farmers and craftsmen living with fallen angels and their families. The wind-swept pastures swayed with wheat just before the harvest. A land of utter peace—until the other angels came.
He stashed the images. “Where do I come in?”
Mariel veiled her expression, but curiosity struck him. Did she see an impure half-breed unworthy of Heaven? Was he more of an abomination than she, with her wingless body and angel eyes?
“What if you could be free, Kasdeja? What if you and your brethren were not bound?”
He didn’t speak, didn’t move, and didn’t breathe.
“I came to bring you an offer,” she said. “Join the Renegades and they will remove the binding on your Grace. Your angelic power will be limitless, and you will never again feel pain for wielding it.”
…
The half angel’s skin blanched the moment the offer passed her lips. Under the streetlights, his pallor turned a sickly sheen, setting off his dark hair. She rotated her shoulder, wincing inwardly. Her battle with the assassin had coated her in perspiration, and the constant throbbing in her shoulders wouldn’t stop.
Aware of the aches, she kept her eyes fixed on the Nephilim as he slowly approached, his expression haunted and mouth set firm. His gaze narrowed on her hand rubbing the scar near her neck. Without a word, he rotated her until the light illuminated her back, and then he tugged the cotton aside.
For the first time in ages, her skin tingled with a sensation other than pain.
Strong fingers pressed gently at the skin around her scars. “How’ll they do it?”
“I do not have the details, but they claim to know more than your superiors would wish.” Talking kept her mind off the unexpectedly pleasant feelings.
He moved his hand to the other shoulder and said, “Skin’s torn.”
“It will heal.”
One sharp nod and he backed away. Oddly, she missed the closeness, even though his proximity set her nerves on edge. The Nephilim were monsters that Heaven kept leashed for the safety of all, or so they claimed. Kasdeja was a skilled fighter, but his kindness proved him unpredictable. And intriguing.
“No idea why they think I’m interested.” His arms bulged as he crossed them. “I’ve killed every Renegade I found.”
Mariel copied his standoffish posture. “What they offer is freedom. Freedom from the Directorate’s iron grip. With your binding gone, you will be free to live how you wish, work when you wish, be who you wish. Is that not a good enough reason, Kasdeja?”
“It’s Kas, and no. Not enough.” His gaze darkened. “Renegades rebelled because they wanted ultimate power on Earth. Those dicks wouldn’t offer a damned thing without conditions.”
Unable to argue, she shrugged. “Yet the offer stands.”
“Why now, huh? Why do Renegades give a shit?”
His vehemence tripped a feeling inside her she’d long ago buried: empathy. She understood his confusion, but she wouldn’t help him. “Are you interested?”
Kas got close. Real close, and flashed a sneer. “What’s your game, GI Jane?”
He had no clue what she’d sacrificed. When she’d presented herself to the Renegades, they’d put her through a half dozen tests to prove her story. Every reconnaissance mission had been more harrowing than the last, each test worse, the whole point to see if she’d balk at an order.
“Why’d they choose you for messenger duty?” His warm breath fanned her face, causing her to lean forward. “Why send a reject angel to present such an awesome offer?”
The insult, as sharp and precise as a scalpel, shouldn’t have hurt. It did. “I am no reject, but you are an arrogant half-breed slave who hunts Renegades. That is why I was chosen. Your misplaced loyalty would not allow another to make the offer before you assassinated him.”
“The night’s young. You can still die.”
Mariel had met conceited, self-righteous men, but Kas was their king. Obviously, he expected to intimidate her, but the half angel was about to learn how bitter disappointment tasted.
“I was told your kind only understood violence and pain.” She narrowed her gaze, daring him to make a move. “Abominations. Impure. Low bred. Worthless.”
He laughed, though she doubted there was true humor behind it. “That what your friends told you?”
“No. That is what the Directorate tell every angel in Heaven’s army. Your allegiance matters not.”
Why was she still talking to him? As far as she was concerned, her mission had failed. The Renegades wanted this man chained to their whims, and she was expected to deliver him. The intent in his eyes told her all she needed. She was the enemy, his to kill, but tonight wouldn’t be her time to die.
A thick vein along his neck ticked as he said, “Lucky you. You get to deliver my message. Tell your friends to go fuck themselves with something sharp and pointy. My freedom isn’t their business, and my loyalty isn’t for sale.”
“Do you feel you have the right to decide the fate of the others? You will turn down an opportunity to stop the Directorate from destroying more lives as they destroyed yours and mine?”
The look that bathed her was pure loathing.
“I failed them once,” Mariel continued in an unwavering voice. “Once was all it took to have my wings severed and me made an outcast. Once. How much love do you think they hold for the Bound? How much compassion? Do you ever think you will walk freely in Heaven’s halls, stay in the great houses, or eat at their tables?
“Consider the offer. If not for yourself, then for your brethren. The day may come when none of you are necessary, and on that day, the Directorate will turn on you, too.”
His enormous body stiffened, proving her words struck a nerve. The tension around his eyes hinted at an inner struggle, and the sight cooled her anger. Regret, an em
otion she knew intimately, surfaced. Regret that she had to dig this deep to twist him to her will. Regret that she couldn’t return to the Renegades without a positive outcome. Regret that even if he agreed, the fierce half angel was still a pawn.
“Join the Renegades, and they will give you what you truly want. They will set you free.”
There it was: the diamond-encrusted carrot dangling from a gold string. Kas only had to reach for it, take it, make it his.
“Fuck you all,” he said, stomping off.
He jumped in his truck and floored the gas. Mariel watched him disappear from the parking lot in a cloud of dust, giving her a temporary reprieve from execution.
Chapter Five
Driving over the long, two-lane bridge connecting the edge of Jefferson Avenue to Belle Isle never failed to bring Kas a sense of peace. Until now. He focused on the road instead of taking in the natural beauty of the team’s island home. Dense trees provided the converted 1915 auto warehouse with privacy, and not even the US Coast Guard could approach from the Detroit River side without being spotted.
When he reached the Stronghold’s converted garage, he slammed his door and stormed past rows of sports cars, practical SUVs, and diesel-fueled trucks. He placed his hand on the ID scanning device and leaned forward so the iris scanner could verify he belonged there. A ray of blue light skimmed over his body, comparing his details to the ones stored on the server. Next week, he planned to add explosives to the defense feed, in case someone needed an incentive to stay the hell out of their headquarters. Right now, such a normal part of his routine seemed to belong to another man.
The sealed, double-layered steel door opened with a hiss of escaping overpressurized air. Kas rounded the fifth row of bare brick columns and jogged up the stairs to his room. He slammed the door behind him.
Swearing a stream of curses under his breath, he walked to his weapons cabinet and yanked his daggers and throwing stars out of the leather holders attached to his body. He dropped the sharp blades into the display case, replaying the showdown with Mariel in his mind.
What had possessed him to leave her alive? He should have dragged her back for interrogation, but no, like an idiot he’d let her spew her nonsense, and he’d listened. Though Tanis was the team’s lie detector and could detect the smallest untruth by the bitter taste it left, Kas lacked the ability, yet something about her struck him as not a threat.
He pulled off his clothes and walked to the shower. Stepping under the hot spray, he tried to scrub the woman from his thoughts. Wingless though she might be, the angel was gorgeous and unforgettable. Their fight, her moves, even the remembered scent of her sweat brought an inexplicable rush of desire, a reaction that surprised and ticked him off.
Between his legs, the evidence of his arousal felt like condemnation. Dangerous women. Mysterious women. Damn, he needed his head examined.
As if to heighten his torment, a clear image of Mariel parked in his frontal lobe. He gripped himself, half mad, half resigned, and stroked his shaft. He should curse her, hate her.
An impossible thought froze his movements. Ah, hell. He couldn’t want her.
“Not an angel, for Christ’s sake.”
Dick bobbing free, he nearly tripped to get out of the shower, and he dressed fast. The alcohol-stocked entertainment room would have a solution the shower had not. Mariel’s appearance rattled him like a wet dream.
He found the room empty, thank God, grabbed the scotch, and drank straight from the bottle. As soon as the liquid scorched his throat, his muscles relaxed a fraction.
Join the Renegades. Damn, he’d never suspected his night would flip the hell over and land upside down. Their messenger girl? Never saw that coming, but she was proving to be impossible to forget. Not because of her scars. Not because she fought like no woman he knew. Not because she was an angel. Mariel’s very presence blindsided him. Mariel, Mariel, Mariel.
His cock stirred, and the instawood returned. There was nothing sexier than a brainy woman who could hold her own against a trained killer. Too bad she was the enemy. Or was she?
He slammed the bottle onto the bar top. What had she said? She’d failed on a mission, and the Directorate had hacked her up. She’d found a place among the most worthless bunch of assholes in existence, and now she worked for them.
What a goddamned message. All his life, he’d known only one sure way to remove the crap locking down his powers. Ascension, the fabled ritual that would only be granted if he performed a miracle. Since his superiors would likely require him to conjure the God of All himself, Kas had never put much hope behind it.
So he and his brothers remained loyal but secretly sought a way to freedom. Tanis believed there could be a way, yet his adopted father hadn’t turned up much in all the years they’d been together. The Bound were stuck.
“Join the Renegades and they will give you what you truly want. They will set you free.”
The words gripped his heart with barbed edges, twisting, piercing, and painful.
Freedom.
The woman had no clue how improbable the offer seemed. She had to be lying. But what if he did take her seriously, and the Renegades had found a way to undo the binding?
Kas laughed at himself. Right. He’d end up replacing one group of angel asses for another set of masters, and maybe lose himself in the bargain.
He couldn’t trust the enemy, and yet the idea nagged him.
That’s why he hadn’t killed Mariel. If there was another way, and if he could discover it, his brothers wouldn’t have to listen to Heaven’s orders anymore. Without the binding, they wouldn’t suffer the organ-burning pain of the Act of Contrition when it chose to strike. Life free of that punch in the gut would rock.
Tanis would molt if he knew, and the team would never risk their lives for Renegades. Then there was the matter of Mariel. Allied to the enemy, she deserved an automatic death sentence. One he hadn’t carried out.
He lowered his head. “Shit.”
No, she didn’t deserve to die because she’d joined the only group who’d accept her. Maybe a good spanking and a few choice threats would steer her right. He wasn’t being soft. No way.
Practical. He was being practical, analyzing the situation from her POV.
Kicked to the curb, left to fend for herself, years of pain and bitter memories connected to losing the biggest part of her identity. Hell, he had a damned good idea what she must have faced making that choice.
Still, why the crap did he care? She’d chosen her side. He had his. But he did care, a little too much, too soon.
If he seriously considered a crazy idea circling his brain, he’d have to stay focused and see it as another mission, not as a chance to get close to this mystery woman. The Renegades had made him the offer, disturbing as that was. Did they think he was easier to turn? Did his brothers, or Tanis, believe he had such a weakness?
Doubt pressed in until he remembered Gratien. His gift was useless. He couldn’t even save one little girl with it.
“Hey, you just get in?” Cain asked, moving to the bar. His brother only wore a pair of loose-fitting jeans, and his blond hair was more askew than normal. That meant his girlfriend was visiting.
“Long night.”
“I hear you. I snuck down here after Katie dozed off.” Cain waggled his eyebrows and grinned. “She lost our bet.”
“I don’t want to know.”
High-beam white teeth magnified his satisfied grin. “My girl claimed she could outlast me. Somewhere around her tenth orgasm she passed out.”
Kas shook his head at his brother’s puffed-out chest. Finding love looked good on Cain. The man deserved a chance at happiness. “Catch you later.”
“Hold up. Satellite feed’s jacked up. You’re the only one who can make the tech in this place obey.”
“I’ll fix it later.”
“But the game—”
He exited the entertainment room to get from under the cloud of Cain’s über happiness. When he
reached his bedroom, he sank onto the mattress and cleared his head. He had plans to make.
Chapter Six
Travertine tiles gave way to stone beneath Mariel’s boots as she followed Rahab from his office. She’d been prepared to debrief, but the angel had told her Mastema wanted to hear her report in person. If she’d been successful, she would have been fine, but as they neared the leader’s laboratory, she began to wonder about his request.
The two Renegades guarding the door reminded her of the angel guards outside the Directorate’s elaborate meeting chamber in Heaven. The coincidence barely registered before Rahab silently ushered her through.
Mastema had been busy. Man-sized containers of blue liquid bubbled and splashed behind glass, and six computers monitored the multicolored vials on three workstations. Their leader hardly glanced up from a microscope. “Your report?”
She bowed in the respectful manner expected of subordinates. “Sir, I met with my contact from Heaven four days ago. At that time, the Directorate had not changed their routine. My contact had not detected any recent plans against us.”
A rare laugh rumbled out of the other angel as his gloved fingers adjusted the device. “A vastly inferior leadership. Have your source continue surveillance and report in two days from now.”
She worked at easing the quick tensing in her torso. The Renegade leader never failed to make her uncomfortable. He had the deceptive appearance of a young human male, perhaps late teens or early twenties. The ghostly skin tone over his musculature was less intimidating, but he had a heart and soul as dark as the tar black of his hair and wings.
Mariel hurried to the next topic. “Sir, the invitation to Kasdeja was relayed this evening.”
“The response?”
Rahab answered first. “Disagreeable, but that was anticipated. He will accept, if only to help the other Nephilim.”
Mastema straightened and extended his wings. Then his hawkish eyes narrowed on her.
“Tell me of his reaction to the offer. Tell me of his reaction to you, an angel without wings.”
The lab floor she stared at came into sharp focus. If she’d had the power to vaporize herself, Mariel would have used it. “Sir, I believe I made an impression.”
Angel Lover Page 4
