Angel Lover

by Tricia Skinner

  “This conversation is over.” Mariel didn’t feel as unaffected as her voice sounded. Their chat spooked her, but worse, she dealt with a man capable of piecing her thought fragments together. The Nephilim was intelligent and resourceful—attractive attributes at any other time. Now, wariness crept into her heart and stuttered the beat.

  Kas remained seated, resting his arms on his bent legs. His fixed, intent gaze roamed her face. She refused to look away, aware he might see that as weakness—or guilt. Or both.

  “Can’t give Mastema what he wants,” he said calmly, opening and closing his fists. “I won’t kill an angel.”

  She was certain he’d decided the exact opposite. This was a full pass into the organization, and slaying an angel would confirm his resignation from the Bound Ones. She wasn’t buying it.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t believe me.”

  Mariel crossed her arms and carefully prepared her argument. The half angel had shown he’d do whatever was necessary to gain his freedom. She’d do whatever it cost to regain her wings. She focused on his face, reading what she could. The twinge of suspicion grew sharper, but she pushed it down. Deep in her soul, she wanted to trust him.

  “No, I do not. Everything you have done was for one goal.” She heard the accusation rolling across her tongue, but she forced herself to stay the course. “You broke from your team, accepted the offer, and allowed Rahab to inject an unknown substance into your body.”

  Kas cracked a humorless smile, crooked and sinfully attractive. “What I wanted you and the others to see.”

  Word games. The Directorate needed an update so they could decide what to do with the rogue Nephilim. The idea her superiors could choose to permanently silence him caused jitters, though. Should she warn him? Her wings or Kas? Why was she conflicted?

  “Mariel, look at me.”

  She leveled her gaze on his and at that moment realized how difficult it would be for her to carry out a kill order, if one came. His file had shown loyalty to the Bound Ones, a near-spotless mission profile, and a few minor infractions on cases with the local police department.

  Yet, in his eyes gleamed a new possibility. One that crashed into her.

  “I’m not going to carry out the order, because I’m not who they, or you, think I am.” Kas held still. He exhaled and darted a look at the ceiling as if the next words hid in the plaster. “Breaking from my team is a lie. Joining the enemy is a lie.”

  No, he could not be like her. She backpedaled until she struck the mattress. Mariel sank to the bed and covered her mouth.

  Kas rose and walked to her.

  She lifted her chin to see his face. His expression was determined, almost as if he’d resigned himself to whatever came next.

  Was he telling her the truth? The center of her chest ached, and she wiped her clammy palms on the comforter. Mariel recognized the hope swarming over her senses. She wanted to believe.

  Kas was a spy. Remarkable. Impossible.

  Relief hit with an unexpected tremor, and she wanted to grasp it, but as soon as the feeling struck, it collided with a shock of pure fear. He was a spy behind enemy lines, without an ally. His chances for survival were null. Unless he had been right to give her his trust. Was he right to do so?

  “You are…a spy. Like…me.”

  He yanked her to her feet. “Say that again.”

  She moistened her lips. “Back in the lab, I was not thinking spy because of you. The thought was for me.” His grip tightened. “It took me a moment to understand what you were saying.”

  He stood so close she felt his breath against her skin. The truth was out, and that struck her as calming. She’d been on her own with the enemy for ten years; trusting another person had been a dream. Yet here she was, blowing her cover.

  “I am a double agent, Kas.” She disentangled herself from his hold, sat on the mattress, and ran her fingers through her hair. “My team and I were on a standard reconnaissance mission, checking out a report that a few Renegades were in the Philippines.”

  In her mind, she returned to the hills to the west of Tubod, Surigao del Norte. The rich fragrance of the rain forest, mingled smells of damp earth, wet leaves, and the fresh air after a storm had never left her memories.

  “We expected a cold Grace trail, but we hoped to stumble upon an enemy base.” Mariel half laughed. “Stupid and overly confident, we searched through the dense forest until evening, but we did not find Renegades. They found us.”

  “An ambush.”

  His voice seemed to travel across time to reach her. Kas had seated himself next to her on the bed. She nodded. “We were standing in the brush, checking for signs of habitation, when they attacked from above. Xaphan shouted, but his warning came too late. As I turned, I was struck down.”

  Kas squeezed her leg.

  She raised her head, and her vision misted. “I do not know how long I was unconscious, but it was long enough for the attackers to butcher my team.”

  He rubbed her thigh in soothing strokes.

  “They had speared Forfax, Hamaliel, and Bagnae to the trees, headless.” Mariel’s throat clamped shut. She swallowed and forced the rest through the constriction. “Pharia and Xaphan had been cut open. Their entrails were threaded together like a grotesque braid.”

  His hand stilled. “Holy shit.”

  Mariel expected horror to twist his features, but what she saw was anger glowing in his eyes. Did he feel for her pain?

  “They spared you for a purpose,” he said, voice hardening.

  She nodded. “Why keep me alive? I was a soldier on my first leadership mission. My military connections were lower than Pharia’s.”

  “What happened next?”

  She fumbled her hands in her lap. “Another unit came searching for us after we failed to check in. I was taken to the Chamber of Healing for a full physical. Other than a lump on my head, I was fine. The Directorate summoned me. Questioned me. I wanted to die.”

  Kas made an irate sound.

  “They said I could make amends by serving as a spy inside the Renegades’ organization,” Mariel said. “To convince the enemy I had turned, they told me I needed a cover story no one would doubt.”

  The half angel stood and paced. Then his steps faltered, and he whipped around, his expression torn with disbelief. “You let those assholes maim you?”

  “You act as though I had a real choice.” She leaped up and got in his face. “I am a soldier, Kas. I did not question their authority. They could have killed me, which is the punishment for failure. Instead I was granted a second chance to make things right.”

  “Getting shoved into a snake pit with a bunch of fallen angels who don’t have shit to lose doesn’t sound like a plan. It sounds like a sacrifice.”

  She tossed her hands up and turned away. She’d chosen to avenge her team, but her superiors understood how low her chances would be. They’d sent her here anyway.

  Mariel didn’t need second-guessing. She had done plenty of that since the massacre. Daily. Nightly. He hadn’t been there. He’d never lost as much as she had, or come back to consciousness to see his precious brothers torn apart and gruesomely displayed in death.

  “Do you not understand? By taking this assignment I can lay the spirits of my friends to rest.” A sob choked her. “I would rip out my own heart if it would accomplish the same.”

  Kas crowded in, his body width equaling two of her. The veins at his neck tapped a rapid pulse beat.

  “Was going to say I’m glad you aren’t the Renegades’ mascot, but you know, the more you talk, the more I can see how you fit in here. You and the enemy will sacrifice anything to get what you want, and it’s all for revenge.”

  The sharpness of his words hurt deeper than expected. “Are you not here for the same reason—revenge? How are we different?” She couldn’t deal with him any longer. “If you carry out Mastema’s wishes, the Directorate will order a KOS.”

  “Anyone could deliver a kill on sight,” he s
aid, raising a single eyebrow as if daring her to respond to the unasked question: Would she accept such an order?

  Worry filled her. Kas was under her skin, in each inhale of breath, filling her head with primal urges.

  “I don’t want to fight with you.” He released a heavy sigh. “I’ve gotta give Mastema and Rahab something, or this mission is over. I’m too close to getting what I came for. I won’t leave empty-handed.”

  “You will not murder an angel just to prove your loyalty.”

  “Maybe it’s time to bring in your real bosses.” Kas crossed his arms. “Heaven’s never had a chance like this. The Renegade leader is a master ghost. No one has come close to icing him in centuries.”

  She couldn’t believe this. “And you are going to stop Mastema? One lone Nephilim against thirty angels?”

  “If I can get close enough to him, it won’t matter how many flyboys are around.”

  “You will be dead before your brain reacts to your death!”

  Kas wasn’t using his head. One half human versus angels older than him, with more to lose and everything to gain? In a fight, mind reading would be as useful as shooting spitballs at them from a straw.

  “Have a better idea?” His voice was razor sharp. “Since you’re certain I’d get my ass kicked, and my training isn’t worth shit, enlighten me.”

  Mariel scowled and shoved him, frustrated with his ridiculous plan. “You cannot win.”

  Kas didn’t budge, but he did offer a wicked grin. “Careful. I’m not in the mood for roughhousing.”

  They’d shared their secrets, fought side by side, risked danger together, yet his belief he could take on the enemy with a shock-and-awe attitude would have repercussions. Repercussions she’d feel if he were killed.

  “Leave,” she said, all her fight dissipating. “Leave and return to your family.”

  If he did go, the Renegades would be angry, and the Directorate’s disapproval of a failed mission would forfeit her wings—and more. Yet she would do it to save Kas’s life.

  “No.”

  Mariel couldn’t figure him out. “I am done talking about killing angels, stopping the enemy, or dead people who will never come back. All of it. Leave before there is no hope of escape. Please.”

  Kas didn’t walk out. Instead, he reached for her, tipped her head until she could only see his eyes, and then he kissed her. Her hands rose to his chest as his tongue dueled with hers.

  Despite ordering him to leave, she finally understood she could never let him go.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kas slipped his arms around the sexy contour of Mariel’s lower body, pressing her flush with his overheated flesh. Blood was nitro in his veins, and the beautiful angel detonated his willpower.

  He’d kiss away the arguing. Kiss away the disbelief in her voice when he told her he’d take on the Renegades alone. Kiss away the small voice pushing him to think she might be right.

  Yet this, this perfect reaction to her concerns, spoke of more. He wanted her. He needed to hear her say he had one person on his side.

  The Bound Ones believed he’d gone AWOL. The Directorate didn’t care about anyone, especially not half-breeds. And Rahab? That bastard had sold out his family to save his own ass.

  All that remained for Kas was the silken pleasure of Mariel’s tongue brushing his. Her skilled hands skimmed his T-shirt, forcing his heart to race. He wanted to explore her body to discover all the secrets she’d kept hidden.

  “What are we doing?” she whispered and trembled as he kissed her neck. “This is reckless.”

  True, but how long had he lived by rules? How long had he done what he was told? When he was a child, the angels in Heaven made him believe he wasn’t worth dirt. He’d searched for love over the long years, but none of his partners had been permanent.

  He traced his fingers under her tank top and made small circles against her back. A soft sound escaped her lips, then she relaxed.

  “Mariel.” He barely recognized his lust-blown voice.

  She answered by renewing their passionate kiss, full and open and bone melting. She kissed him thoroughly, drawing the oxygen from his lungs as she twisted her fingers into his long hair.

  Kas lowered her on the comforter with care, never breaking their kiss. He eased back, and with his gaze on hers, he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it.

  Mariel’s gaze made several passes over his body.

  What did she feel for him? Admiration? Uncertainty? He’d never hurt her. No one would ever hurt her again, not if they expected to live.

  Then Mariel’s gaze fell away. “You are…beautiful.”

  Her shoulders drooped, and she pulled back.

  “You don’t believe you are.”

  She didn’t reply, except for the stubborn jut of her chin.

  Kas smoothed his thumb over her cheek then gently raised her head. She wouldn’t look at him. He wouldn’t allow her to withdraw from him, from them.

  He touched her shirt at the waist, and her hands clamped over his, her eyes wet. Her fearful expression tore him apart.

  “Trust me as I trust you,” he said gently.

  Kas waited until her grip loosened, and her hands fell to the side. He infused a smile with warmth and then eased the material up in torturous increments. Time she could use to stop him.

  Her flat stomach and tight abs were revealed. He smothered his reaction, afraid Mariel would mistake a groan for disapproval. Smooth, golden skin fed his hunger an appetizer.

  “You have control,” he told her. “If you tell me to stop, I’ll stop.”

  Mariel peeked through her lashes and nodded.

  He lifted the shirt higher, stared at her breasts, and bit back another sound. God of All, they made him salivate, but he tapped more of his self-control.

  Finally, the shirt was over her head and joined his on the floor. Mariel’s arms stayed locked at her sides like a soldier at attention.

  Kas moved around her and climbed onto the bed next to her. “Lie on your side, facing me.”

  “I do not know,” she said, whisper light.

  Again his chest felt as if it had crushed inward. No woman should be made to believe she was ugly. None should feel shame about her body. He wanted to beat bloody any man who’d ever looked at her wrong.

  Mariel expelled a long breath as if she’d resolved herself to do what he’d asked. She stretched out alongside him, chest to chest, her right arm pillowing her head.

  He leaned over and planted a soft kiss on her cheek and lips. “Touch me.”

  Tentative fingers passed over his wrist, stroked up his arm, and cupped his bicep. Then she followed a trail from his neck, down his throat, and over his right pec. His nipple hardened to a pebble as her thumb brushed him, over and over.

  “Damn, a new fetish,” he mumbled.

  Mariel giggled, then she pinched him, and blood zoomed to his cock. Definitely a new fetish.

  Her exploration grew bolder until no part of his torso wasn’t stroked, pinched, or at one point, licked. The moment she lapped a wet trail over his six-pack, he practically melted from pleasure.

  Maybe it didn’t matter if the Directorate issued a KOS. One way or another, his wingless angel might just kill him with desire.

  …

  The clean taste of Kas’s skin sent shock waves through Mariel. Each part of him was fighter ready, strong and solid, and she imagined all that power under her control.

  Goose bumps rose on her exposed skin. Facing him dimmed her self-consciousness. Her scars were hideous, and knowing Kas would see them had brought her close to panic.

  What she’d done so far was a miracle. Her companion had handed her the reins, complete with a simple safe word—“stop.” He couldn’t know giving her control was the surest way she’d commit to pushing her limits on physical contact.

  He slid his fingers over her hip and found a spot on her lower back and continued in slow, reassuring circles. The action was comforting and strangely arousing.r />
  He planted a kiss on her shoulder, nudging her to turn her body.

  Mariel gulped down the last of her trepidation and rolled onto her stomach. She struggled against the impulse to bury her face into the sheets and settled for closing her eyes. Her ugly back and shoulders were exposed and vulnerable, like her fragile heart. If he rejected her now…

  The mattress wobbled as Kas adjusted his position. Her breathing turned shallow. Two warm fingers rode the thick ridge of scar tissue on her left shoulder blade. With her eyes closed, her brain cranked up a projection of the moment she’d lost her wings.

  “Azriel nodded to Kaonos, my senior officer and the Directorate’s go-to angel,” she said in a distant voice. “I had been draped over the long board, my wrists bound by titanium rings on the ends. The first thing I clearly remember was the descending squeak of the overheard spreader bar.”

  The hand on her back paused and then continued after a moment.

  “They wrapped a cord around each wing, then hoisted until they fully extended away from my body.” A tear slipped from her closed eyelids. “I tried to pull them back, but that only rattled the chains. That is when it struck me. I was not leaving that room with my wings.”

  Kas reached to her right side and treated that scar with the same gentle touches. She opened her eyes and stared past her elliptical machine.

  “They teach us about pain during our training. How it feels. How to bear it,” she said. “But losing my wings…” A shudder passed through her. “Kaonos hacked through the bone of one, then the other. I passed out and reawakened in the Chamber of Healing two days later.”

  “If they sent you to the Chamber, why—”

  “Why do I have scars and phantom pain?” she interrupted. “That was part of my mission, but also my punishment. The healers were ordered to grind down the protruding bone and suture the wounds without Grace.”

  His hand left her back. “Shit.”

  Grace would have sealed the damage, vanished the scars, and kept her wingless but pain-free.

  “When I complete my mission, my superiors have promised to regrow my wings. The only way to do that is keeping the wound in its amputated state.”