“What will you do when we arrive?” Mariel’s cautious tone skittered over him.
“Get answers, then leave.”
“But we are not expected. Will we gain entrance?”
“The Bound don’t make appointments. If we have business to settle, people clear their schedules.”
He refocused on the assignment. What he knew about Bailey came from news reports he might or might not have paid much attention to. The councilwoman was the human representative in the mostly shifter and vampire group. On the surface, her politics had an all-American quality. She cared about schools and fair wages and equal rights for humans and Others.
Kas ventured her political leanings gave Renegades a rash.
Outside a frosted glass door, Mariel knocked and then stepped to the side to allow him first greeting. The door opened just as he finished running scenarios and probabilities in his head.
“Well, this is an unexpected visit,” Bailey said. She fingered her African-styled necklace, smooth oblong wood beads separated by brightly colored accents. The jewelry added a regal air that complimented her African American features. “My assistant hadn’t informed me of a meeting with a member of the Bound Ones.”
He tensed at the mention of his team, and the clear reminder he wasn’t there on Heaven’s business, which meant a new complication. Ruffle the councilwoman, and the first complaint she’d make would be during a phone call to Tanis, if he were unlucky.
“Sorry for the unscheduled drop-in,” Kas said. He smiled as warmly as possible then gestured for them to move inside to the spacious sitting area.
Bailey shrugged and found a straight-back chair to sit in. Mariel followed her into the room, but chose a location near the wide glass windows overlooking the street.
“Which one are you again?”
He softened his features and hoped he appeared close to nonthreatening when he said, “Kas. Just the team’s resident geek.”
The light sound of the politician’s laughter shed five years from her fifty-odd years of age.
“So, what business does a Nephilim geek have with me?” she asked, adding a sly smile.
Kas summoned his power but turned his head as if appreciating the multiframed photographs on one wall. His goal was not to send her to the room’s panic button, but his glowing eyes couldn’t be avoided. He slipped into her mind like a fox in a rabbit’s den.
“I’d heard the council was deliberating a permit request made by a third party,” he said in a light tone. “How’s that going?”
The politician’s mind flooded with information. Why is he asking? Can he help me? God, this might be my chance to gain protection. Can I trust him?
“We oversee many proposals, Kas. To which are you referring?”
Please don’t ask me. Not about that one.
He kept his expression open and leaned closer to inspect one of the wall pictures, but her thoughts pricked at him. Though Bailey appeared calm, he saw a black tinge of fear creeping around her mind. “I bet it’s tough to decide which projects are worth approval. A lot of pressure.”
She nodded, jingling her loop earrings, then her eyes narrowed. “Yet that is why the council reviews each request carefully and without bias. Did you come to ask after one in particular?”
You’re here for Project 19. I’m not stupid.
Kas turned back to Bailey and clasped his hands at his waist. He had a name, but no clue what it meant. “Tell me about Project 19, Councilwoman.”
Bailey’s lips puckered. She crossed her arms and nailed him with a hard glare. “Who sent you? Are the Bound involved with those…those cutthroat angels?”
“Not sure I understand, Councilwoman. I’m here seeking information, and to help you. Tell me about Project 19.”
You’re not here to help me. Dammit, I knew it. I won’t be cowed into changing my vote.
The politician uncrossed her arms and gracefully rose from her chair. “This meeting is over.”
Forget taking it easy. He needed to end this before the Act of Contrition bit him in the ass. Kas looked directly into her eyes and with a controlled edge, said, “Tell me.”
A moment passed and no one in the sitting room moved. His power stayed inside the councilwoman’s head, but if she didn’t start talking, he’d end up fetal on the floor.
“Project 19 is a research laboratory that would be built near the river,” Bailey said before sighing and returning to her seat. “It was proposed several months ago to some of my colleagues. In essence, the lab was explained as a multispecies medical testing center. A team of scientists and doctors were interested in studying common maladies of humans and Others and then producing remedies or cures.”
Renegades helping people? Fat fucking chance. “Sounds cool, even compassionate. Why object?”
“My colleagues raised concerns about how testing would be conducted, on whom, etcetera,” she replied. “We refused to push the necessary permits through without concrete answers.”
So they started killing us off like it was hunting season. Oh, Lord. My family.
The thought sent a spike of guilt straight to Kas’s gut. Months ago, Abel’s mission had been to silence the council. Cain’s twin brother had almost succeeded.
Intent on her words, he ignored the early warning signs of pain the Act stirred. “Project 19 will push through whether or not you support it.”
Bailey shot up from her chair. “Over my dead body, Nephilim. I may be one woman against an organization of bullies, but I won’t bow to their threats.”
Rubbing his clammy palms together, Kas withdrew his Grace. His intestines grew hot, pooling sweat under his T-shirt.
Fetal position, here it came.
Yet the full blast of the Act didn’t land. In fact, he felt the surefire signs extinguish while he prepared for impact. His gaze found Mariel, eyes aglow, staring at him.
Guess she’d changed her mind about watching his back.
“Councilwoman, I don’t doubt you’re brave and fart rainbows,” he said, standing until he dwarfed the older woman. “This fight isn’t what you want. If I was wearing your Pradas, I’d pass the permit.” Kas glanced at her shoes. “They look better without bloodstains.”
“Are…are you threatening me?” Bailey stuttered.
He walked to the door. “Don’t have to. You’re scared. You have a family. Ain’t no point telling you what you’ve already heard, what you already know will happen if you keep sticking your head in front of a sniper’s sight.”
The brutal truth might keep her alive a while longer, although he hated delivering the message. Still, this new information made his personal mission more vital. Without the binding, he and his brothers increased their chances of stopping the Renegades for good.
Mariel exited first, drawing his gaze to her silent form as she put distance between them.
“I…thought you’d help me,” the councilwoman said in a near whisper.
Kas smothered the apology that wanted to slip out. Instead, he cast a look over his shoulder. “I was a disappointment the day I was born.”
Chapter Twelve
After the trip to city hall, Mariel had texted her Renegade contact and received a meeting location. They’d received the equivalent of a “please hold” response. Hours passed, then the details followed. That only skimmed a thin layer off his shitty mood.
Kas’s SUV idled at the stoplight, a hum of power under the hood, behind Mariel’s sleek foreign sports car. He followed close as they weaved through Detroit’s evening traffic, out of the downtown area, and toward the northern reaches of the city. Wherever the Renegades had selected as their meeting point was far from his home on Belle Isle and from the familiar security of the Bound Ones.
He rubbed his chin and considered the earpiece resting in the cup holder. If he contacted the team now, they could track him and his vehicle’s GPS on the computer.
The idea flittered away. Until the Renegades knew his intentions, they’d keep their secret hidey-hole ou
t of reach. No, calling in Jarrid, Cain, Tanis, and Nesty would only send the enemy deeper into their caves. This was a one-shot opportunity to slip behind enemy lines. He couldn’t blow it.
Tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, he considered Mariel’s actions during the meeting. She’d helped him a second time when the Act had struck.
Ally or enemy, dammit?
Then there was Bailey. Residual guilt welled up. Everything he was hated acting as if he didn’t care about the scared councilwoman. She had reason to be afraid, but he couldn’t reassure her, couldn’t play the hero. God of All, his mission would jack up his mind before it was over.
Palmer Park’s tennis courts appeared in the distance. The stadium-style lights drenched the empty courts in unnecessary brightness. Mariel drove through the parking lot until she was out of sight of the street. He followed, and they parked under a thick canopy of trees across from a smattering of picnic tables.
His vision pierced the shadows as he exited the truck. Night scavengers skirted out of view, but those were the only other living beings in the isolated spot. He smelled nothing except the scents of the outdoors. The click of Mariel’s car door was the only unnatural sound.
If a Renegade was here, the bastard was well hidden.
He studied the patches of sky above and unclasped the snaps on his gun holsters.
Without looking at him, Mariel said, “You will not require your weapons.”
He scanned her body from boots to face as she looked first at his eyes, then at his guns. “I’m not ready to get naked, angel. Maybe later.”
“Stubborn…” Her voice trailed off into a mumble, and she hopped onto a picnic table and sat. Her long legs crossed, the leggings accentuating her toned muscles.
His gaze skimmed over the knee-high leather boots, up her firm thighs, and paused at the womanly center of her. Kas huffed out a breath, dragging his attention away from the dark lure of Mariel.
“If I had known you would insist on meeting him tonight, I would have suggested you wear something more…presentable.”
He glanced at his jeans and faded Black Sabbath T-shirt—a fucking original—and grimaced. “The late sixties kicked ass. The hair. The clothes. The music.”
“The drug use. The race riots. The war,” said a voice high above them.
Leather swooshed as Kas pulled his guns.
Massive black wings flapped soundlessly as their owner descended. He had the new arrival in the crosshairs before the angel floated to the grass. The Renegade’s head lifted and everything in Kas’s brain slammed into a cage of disbelief.
“Hello, Kasdeja.”
Mariel came up beside him, extending her arm. “Kas, this is Rahab.”
He backed away, chest heaving, his head denying what his eyes confirmed. This couldn’t be. God of All. There was no chance in hell…
Rahab watched him, a simple look of curiosity on his refined face, as if he had found an interesting animal at the zoo. Shiny black hair flowed to his shoulders, lost in the dense midnight of his wings. He wore a tapered suit that gave his body an ultra-modern militaristic appearance, but the rounded handle of an old-fashioned sword poked out behind his head.
A light touch on Kas’s arm surprised him.
“What’s wrong?” Mariel asked, searching his eyes for answers before her gaze darted between the Renegade and him.
“I never thought to see you again. My son,” Rahab said.
Mariel gasped and yanked her hand away. “Son?”
He couldn’t speak. His brain overloaded.
“Kasdeja is my offspring,” Rahab calmly replied, his eyes never leaving Kas’s face.
Mariel’s hand drifted to her neck, and she stroked the scar there. “Oh. Dear. God.”
His father.
The last time he’d seen his sire, warrior angels had come to slaughter everyone in their village. The pitched battles had torn the community apart. Rahab had left to join his rebel brethren, but not before delivering a final order to Kas’s terrified mother.
“You…” He forced himself to get the words past his dry throat. “You told Mother…not to be taken.”
“And she was not,” Rahab said on a bored exhale.
“No, she wasn’t.”
Left with that unsympathetic order, abandoned by her husband, Kas’s mother had hustled him through the village to seek a hiding place. An angel had appeared in front of them. Tanis. Before either could react, his mother, in an effort to protect him, had thrown herself on the angel’s sword, plunging it deep into her chest. She’d turned to her son and rasped, “Run.”
Kas had stood, his vision clouded by tears, unable to save her. “She sacrificed herself.”
His Grace exploded inside him, rage boiling his blood. His Desert Eagles seemed to magically appear in his hands, and he fired every bullet at his angel sire.
Rahab poofed out of existence.
“Goddammit!” He’d forgotten his sire’s talent. Unfortunately, one of many.
Heavy wings flapped behind him, and he spun around. A fist slammed into his jaw with enough force to crack bone in a mortal. He flew backward and crashed into a picnic table that shattered under his weight. Fueled by his anger, he jumped to his feet and flung four throwing stars where the Renegade stood.
Again, the asshole blinked out.
“Afraid of me, old man?” Kas yelled.
An arm out of nowhere swatted him aside. He went airborne and landed in a heap on the grass. Black spots blinked behind his eyes. He struggled to his feet as a pulse of nausea struck, and he wavered, barely able to focus.
He hadn’t been hit that hard, but his ears rang. Intent on his sire, he took a step forward…
And teleported.
Kas’s body emerged…somewhere…and his stomach threatened to rush out his mouth. Before he could reorient, Rahab attacked with his fists and legs, weapons worthy of Bruce Lee.
He went on the defensive, countering each blow with his own, barely able to keep up.
“Stop this,” Mariel cried out. “Rahab. Kas. You must talk.”
His sire was a fierce son of a bitch. A full-blooded angel son of a bitch.
Kas hardly registered that Mariel had spoken—or made sense of his own teleportation. He locked his surprise away, shook off the stubborn nausea, and abandoned the fisticuffs for the cool reassurance of two daggers.
And the wily asshole dematerialized.
He tried to do the same, but he had no clue how he’d teleported before.
A kick to his midsection flattened his intestines, and his lungs spewed air and a thin mist of blood.
Kas grunted away the pain, but another low kick between his legs crashed him to his knees, made him grip his balls, gasp for oxygen.
“A Heaven-trained assassin,” Rahab said, towering over him. “I thought your time with the Directorate would hone you into a killing machine.” The angel crouched until they were face-to-face. “You disappoint me, Kasdeja. Again.”
Fuck. This. Kas surged forward, surprising the Renegade, and barreled them over. He locked his thighs over Rahab’s torso and raised the dagger. He brought his arm down, driving the blade on a perfect line to his sire’s black heart.
Poof.
Kas roared as the blade struck grass and soil. He whipped his head around, his eyes scanning, his tongue tasting blood.
His sire had survived the village massacre, but he wouldn’t live one more day. Not one more damned day.
The memory of his mother’s dying breaths echoed in his ears. She’d been so frightened. She’d worshipped Rahab. And he’d left her to die.
In the end, Tanis had removed his sword from her chest, and Kas had tried to stop the bleeding. There was so much blood.
“I love you.” Her last words delivered with the barest touch of her hand on his.
Pain and loss and the rage of revenge swirled within him.
He hadn’t been able to save his mother, the perfect obedient wife.
Kas aimed his mind-re
ading power at the surrounding area. The energy tentacle picked up one mind, but not the one he expected.
Mariel’s angel static was gone. Instead, he read a jumble of her thoughts.
Not happening.
…he could die.
I can’t—
Not my mission.
Won’t let…them win.
Protect him.
Before Kas could cut off his link, Rahab reappeared, sword in hand.
The mind-reading distraction had cost him.
In a blink, the deadly blade ignited. Deliberately, slowly, Rahab lifted the blade overhead.
Kas raised his daggers and shifted his body into attack position.
His sire’s eyes blazed, yet nothing could match the fluid hatred coursing through his own veins.
Rahab’s arms came down.
Kas’s body disappeared.
…
Mariel stared at the empty spot where the half angel had fallen, unable to believe her eyes for the second time tonight. A loud groan caused her to turn. Kas leaned against a tree, his eyes as round as tires.
“How?” Rahab’s astonished tone fell over the area.
She had jumped out of the way of the father and son combatants and crouched on top of the only picnic table not smashed to kindling. The two now appeared to size up each other, and she suspected the night was only just becoming surreal.
First, Rahab had sired Kas. Heaven help them all. As far as the Renegades knew, she was their spy. That the organization’s second in command was sire to one of the Bound was a fact she should have known. She could have prepared better, given her time to deal with the shock, but no. She’d lay heavy odds Mastema had orchestrated the big reveal with the sole intention of throwing everyone off, especially the half angel.
Second, Kas could teleport. Her mind refused to accept what she’d seen. Nephilim only had access to one power, one mere sliver of the gifts of their angel fathers, yet Kas had two.
A war cry erupted from the Nephilim’s chest. He practically flew at Rahab, and the deadly daggers he held blurred from his speed.
The Renegade raised his sword, fire licking the blade, and vanished.
Mariel closed her eyes, and her heart squeezed. She didn’t want to watch. She didn’t want to see the handsome, confounding half angel struck down by his own sire. She didn’t want Rahab to win.
Angel Lover Page 8
