Angel Bonds

by Lexi C. Foss

  What the actual fuck is happening in this world?

  She considered him the enemy for so long—Jonathan’s pet Sentinel—but now she didn’t know what to think. He’d kept everything from her, led her to believe her parents were killed, but the logical part of her understood his actions. The manufactured history in her mind about the death of her parents forced Stas to hide her abilities out of fear of repercussions. And living with the Davenports had taught her to value human life, had essentially given her a conscience that Osiris clearly lacked.

  “But what about my father?” she wondered out loud. “Is Sethios like Osiris?”

  “Yes,” Luc and Alik answered simultaneously.

  “No,” Stark countered. “Sethios sacrificed everything to protect you, Stas. Osiris would never make such a choice for anyone except himself.”

  Stas recalled the memory—the real one—in her mind, seeing her father’s eyes as he mentally compelled her to run. He’d been in such pain…

  Green irises, radiating hurt and fear, focused on Astasiya. Persuasion shook her being, forcing her legs to move, to run—

  “I can see him,” Issac marveled, pulling her from the thought. “I can see Sethios.”

  She blinked up at him. “The memory?”

  He nodded. “Every detail.”

  “Yes, you’re bonded,” Stark interrupted. “For eternity.”

  Issac merely smiled. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing, mate.” He shifted his focus, his arm around her shoulders tightening. “Are you concerned about my intentions for your sister?”

  Stas busied herself with the caffeinated beverage in her hands, needing the liquid energy to fortify herself for this conversation.

  Stark snorted. “You should be more concerned about Sethios’s reaction.”

  “I’m not afraid of Sethios.” The certainty in Issac’s voice matched his resolve inside.

  “Regardless, there are a few things you need to understand about the bond. First, it attaches your soul to hers, which is why you’ll eventually evolve into a Seraphim. Right now, you can see into our plane of existence—”

  “I could see Aya before we completed our bond,” he interjected.

  “Yes, because it was already initiated. But you couldn’t see me. Now you can.”

  Issac’s chin dipped. “All right.”

  “And you’ll eventually be able to go ethereal as well, but not until the transition is complete, which we already discussed.”

  “Indeed. But I’m still not seeing your concerns, Gabriel,” Issac said, taking a final sip from his mug and setting it aside. “Everything you’ve listed thus far is a perk.”

  “Fair enough.” Stark shifted his attention. “Stas, do you dream of being underwater? Drowning? Screaming for help with no one to hear you?”

  His words sent a shiver down her spine, vivid images flashing behind her eyes of their own accord. The cup in her hand suddenly felt cold. Bitter. She placed it on the table and wrapped her arms around her middle.

  “Yes,” she admitted, haunted by the visions flooding her mind. The nightmares were almost as bad as being buried alive, almost as real.

  “That’s Mom telegraphing through the bond,” Stark said flatly. “I see them, too, but only when I sleep. Sethios, however, feels her agony every single second of every single day. Through the bond. And what’s worse? He has no idea why.”

  “He doesn’t know he’s bonded?” Luc asked, his brow furrowing. “How is that possible?”

  “Osiris compelled him to forget everyone and everything, right in front of Caro. Wiped her from his mind completely. Then threw her to the bottom of the ocean.”

  “Where?” Stas demanded, her hands in fists. “And why haven’t you helped her?”

  “You don’t think I would if I could?” His tone finally held a note of emotion—incredulity—and it matched his features. “I have no idea where Osiris left her, and this planet is mostly water. Ezekiel doesn’t know, either. Which is why we need Sethios. He’s the only one who can find her.”

  “Because of their bond,” Issac said softly.

  “Yes.” Stark held his gaze. “Now you understand the complication. If something ever happens to Astasiya, you will live in agony until the problem is resolved.”

  “I would be miserable regardless of the bond.” Issac tilted his head to the side. “Something I believe this last week has shown everyone.” His palm slid up and down her arm, as if reminding himself she still sat beside him.

  Stas leaned into his side, laying her head on his shoulder and nuzzling his throat. I’m here.

  I know.

  I love you.

  His lips curled. I love you, too, Aya.

  “Seriously bizarre,” Balthazar said, his chocolate gaze swirling with admiration. “I know you’re speaking to each other, but it’s muffled.”

  “You have no idea how much that thrills me,” Issac replied. “I’ve finally found a way to tune you out.”

  “So I need to bond with a Seraphim to kick him out of my head.” Alik spoke the words as if he were plotting his future. “Added benefits are intense immortality—since, apparently, Wakefield can’t die now—and I might sprout wings.” He nodded. “Sold.”

  Stark didn’t appear amused at all. “It’s not just a bond; it’s an eternal mating. Sacred and rare and requires intense commitment. Issac will never be able to romantically react to another being. His soul belongs to Stas and vice versa.”

  A hint of satisfaction slithered through the bond, Issac pleased at the idea that Stas could never look elsewhere. She sent a blast right back at him.

  You’re the playboy billionaire, remember?

  He snorted. That’s a long-dead image I have no intention of ever resurrecting.

  Good. Because I’ll kill anyone who touches you. She had no idea where the possessive instinct came from, but no way was she quelling it. Issac was hers. She would not be sharing him. Ever.

  He arched a brow. I might actually enjoy that, Aya.

  Don’t tempt me, or I’ll return the favor and flirt with Balthazar.

  His gaze narrowed. Touché, love.

  “All right, you mentioned freeing Sethios as a next step. What about Jonathan? You worked with him the longest. Where’s he hiding?” Luc had somewhat relaxed, his back up against the brick lining the fireplace, his long legs stretched out before him.

  “Better question—why didn’t you warn us about the attack?” Alik asked, a blade playing between his fingers. “If you were on our side, you would have said something.”

  Stark didn’t flinch despite the clear threat lurking in Alik’s gaze. “John assigned a different Sentinel to lead the mission. I didn’t even know about it until it was too late.”

  “But Leela was there,” Stas said, frowning. “I saw her.”

  “Yes.” Stark’s jaw clenched. “We rotated watching over you, and that was Leela’s week. She’s the reason I found out about the attack. She misted to my house right before dying from the bullet wounds. Owen took care of her and called me. I went to John to find out what the fuck happened, then requested a two-week vacation to clear my head.”

  “And he didn’t question that?” Luc asked.

  “I want to know how Leela was shot,” Balthazar cut in. “Can Seraphim take bullets in an ethereal state?”

  He doesn’t know? She blinked. Of course he doesn’t. He couldn’t see her.

  See who, darling? Issac asked, hearing her thoughts.

  Leela. She protected Balthazar. That’s why I was so distracted—I saw her wings. Then I heard you calling my name, and… She swallowed. You know the rest.

  Stark shifted, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees. “Yes, Seraphim can sustain damage in an ethereal state. And no, John didn’t question it because I told him there wasn’t much for me to do at the moment so I wanted a break. Since I’ve never taken vacation days, he gave them to me. But he expects me back soon.”

  “Which presents us with
an opportunity,” Luc murmured. “Interesting. Ezekiel tells me you can alter the wards at the CRF headquarters?”

  “Yes. Osiris created them. I know how to update them and have done so on numerous occasions.”

  “So Jonathan knows you’re a Seraphim?” Luc asked.

  “No. He has no idea. Osiris is unaware as well. I updated the runes without their knowledge and have kept my identity a secret for the better part of a decade. John thinks his genetic modifications worked on me.” Stark gazed at Luc. “Did Ezekiel share all the research files? To give you insight into the Sentinel updates? John’s been very busy at the CRF using Osiris’s money and Seraphim resources to create more abominations, some incredibly lethal.”

  “That’s something I don’t understand. Why has Osiris entrusted Jonathan with all these projects? What’s his goal? He’s advocated for conflict between Hydraians and Ichorians for nearly two millennia, has even led a war on one side and killed hundreds of his creations. What is he trying to accomplish?”

  “That should be obvious.” Stark cocked his head to the side. “You’re all foot soldiers crafted for his own personal use. He’s sharpened his tools through thousands of years of bloodshed, killing off the weak and keeping the strong, and he keeps you all on edge so you continue to train. He’s amassing an army, Lucian. And the projects John has worked on are just another line of defense—humans with Seraphim genetics.”

  “Like Lizzie,” Stas breathed.

  “Yes,” Stark confirmed. “But she was created for a different purpose.”

  “To breed,” she muttered, recalling everything Lizzie had told her.

  “Specifically, to breed Osiris’s progeny. He views her current pregnancy as a test of survival. He also assumes any child she bears will be of use to him later. However, in a future state, his goal is to replace Sethios—whom he sees as a broken lieutenant after his dalliances with Caro. That’s why Lizzie was genetically modified to conceive.”

  “But why?” Stas pressed. “I mean, he created my father with a mortal, right?”

  “Procreation amongst Seraphim is very rare. I suspect he’s attempted to produce another progeny using similar methods and failed. Hence, he assigned John the task of manufacturing a female with enough Seraphim genetics to carry his child.”

  “Is Lizzie similar to my father? Or is she transitioning into a Seraphim?”

  “Leela would be better tasked to answer that. The way Elizabeth was created defies the supernatural order. She’s a mixture of bloodlines, both Seraphim and mortal alike. I don’t know that she has a definition.”

  Stas shivered. “Does that mean her future is unknown?”

  “In essence, yes. She’s one of a kind. The CRF Sentinels used for experimentation were only given small amounts of Seraphim alterations to strengthen their mortality. Elizabeth was effectively manufactured in a lab.”

  That sounds ominous, she thought, another shiver traversing her spine.

  But not hopeless, Issac murmured reassuringly. Elizabeth is resilient. We’ll figure this out.

  “You mentioned procreation is rare,” Luc said. “Is there a specific reason why?”

  “There are a multitude of reasons. First, Seraphim rarely fornicate because my kind doesn’t see a point. Second—”

  “Whoa, hold on. You don’t see a point?” Balthazar’s eyebrows were in his hairline. “As in… Yeah, no, I can’t even finish that because it’s unreasonable. How is there no point to sex?”

  “It’s a predominantly human act done for selfish reasons that bear no practical recourse aside from producing an heir, which I was about to say is uncommon because it requires timing and an appropriate blood match.”

  Balthazar blinked at him. “Pleasure is selfish?”

  “It’s impractical.”

  “No wonder you Seraphim are so damn stoic. Clearly, you don’t know how to live. Direct me to your leaders, as I’ll be happy to provide a few tutorials. Pleasure can most certainly be a gift when applying the correct methods.” Balthazar glanced at Luc. “Can you believe this? It’s like an entire realm of untried opportunities—the mother of all challenges.”

  Alik snorted. “Not everyone lives and breathes sex, B.”

  Balthazar waved at Stark. “Clearly.”

  “Again, it’s impractical. Seraphim only fornicate when the Fates have predicted an ideal coupling. Such as when Caro and Adriel were prophesized to create me.”

  “Are you a virgin?” Balthazar asked, incredulous.

  “That bears no consequence on this conversation.”

  “I beg to differ,” the mind reader pressed. “Your virginity would explain your narrow-minded view, something I’ll happily fix for you. Just say the word.”

  “No.” A flat response. No elaboration. Just an emphatic denial of the suggestion, or perhaps a response to the virginity question. Not that Stas wanted to know. At this point, she just wanted a break. Or some alcohol. Or maybe a really long nap.

  “You mentioned the Fates?” Luc prompted. “What are they?”

  Stark cleared his throat. “The Fates are our oracles. They dictate the future, but there are some who believe they might be corrupt.” His gaze flickered to Stas. “They tricked our mother into delivering an edict to Osiris, knowing Sethios would intervene. That’s how you were conceived.”

  “That might be too much information,” Stas muttered.

  “But it’s important because the Fates wanted Caro to become pregnant and failed to warn her of that intention. Instead they set her up on a false errand. Then the Fates—and the council—wanted you raised among Seraphim, but our mother refused. It would have required terminating Sethios in some fashion. However, Skye prophesized the need to keep him in your life, to teach you the importance of humanity, to ground you to the earth.”

  “And Skye is the prophetess in Osiris’s custody,” Luc added, scratching his jaw. “How do you know which seer speaks the truth?”

  “I don’t,” Stark admitted. “Caro and Sethios chose their path, and from what I’ve seen thus far, it appears to be the right one.”

  28

  Stas

  I’m getting dizzy, Stas admitted. This is… a lot. I just wanted to have a snack and go back upstairs.

  Issac chuckled in her mind, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head. Do you think I’ll have pink feathers, too? he mused, effectively distracting her.

  She scowled at him. I don’t want to think about that, either.

  You don’t think I could pull off rosy plumes? His use of her earlier description was not lost on her. Maybe mine will be fuchsia.

  I really hope they are. Then you’ll regret ever suggesting it and maybe understand my sorrow.

  Another chuckle. Poor darling. Maybe you’re right. Maybe they’ll change colors.

  I’ll pay you back for taunting—

  Feathers appeared in her peripheral vision, sending her scurrying to the side of the couch, eyes wide. “Oh my God…” Issac had wings. Pink wings. Neon in shade and gaudy and, holy crap, his were worse than hers.

  And very fake, he whispered across her thoughts.

  They disappeared as Issac rolled to his side on a boisterous laugh.

  She pressed her palm to her beating heart. “That… What? How?”

  He wiped tears from his eyes as he met her gaze, his smile radiant. “Vision” was all he managed to get out before collapsing in laughter again.

  She glowered at him. “You manipulated my sight?”

  Issac’s responding chuckles were not words of apology. Nor was the amused gleam in his gaze. “Your face…”

  “How does my face look now?” she countered, picturing a stake driving through his heart.

  He responded by adding wings again and fanning them out around them. She wasn’t sure what pissed her off more—the color or the fact that he still looked good despite the fuchsia plumes sticking out around him.

  She tackled him against the couch, only to end up in his arms, pinned to a cushion beneath her
. “Gabriel, I’m most disappointed in Astasiya’s sparring skills. I don’t think you were hard enough on her.”

  Stas arched a brow. “Yeah? How about—”

  His lips covered hers before she could unleash a demand.

  I can still think one at you, she pointed out.

  His tongue slid into her mouth, slowly and purposely. Mmm, not if I distract you, love.

  Warmth slithered through her veins. You don’t play fair.

  Never with you.

  Luc cleared his throat. “Right, so you’re saying Osiris is creating an army to fight the Seraphim.”

  “Specifically, the High Council of Seraph,” Stark replied. “They are the ones who exiled him and continue to issue edicts in regard to taming his behavior. He has no interest in complying and every desire to destroy them. His ultimate goal is to take power over Seraphim kind and humankind alike.”

  “He’s been playing the long game,” Luc murmured.

  A very long game, indeed, Issac thought, his lips still covering hers. Shall we rejoin the conversation or continue ignoring them?

  I could mist us upstairs. Maybe.

  His smile warmed her mind. Mmm, I like that idea.

  She almost giggled as he continued kissing her. It made her feel young, alive, new. She hadn’t acted like this in, well, ever—just letting go, in front of an audience… one that included her brother.

  Okay, maybe not.

  “Stas…” The familiar male voice sent a jolt down her spine.

  You do realize this is the second time in our relationship that Thomas has interrupted my kissing you, yes? Issac released her with a smirk, shifting on the couch and helping her up into a seated position beside him.

  An image of the restaurant lobby where she shared her first kiss with Issac flashed behind her eyes in reference to his words. That hardly counted.

  His eyebrows lifted. Excuse me?

  The limo was better.

  His lips curled. I did enjoy that dress.

  I know. She finally refocused on Tom, who stood dumbfounded at the edge of the room with a beaming Amelia at his side.

  “Hi,” Stas greeted lamely. What was one supposed to say after rising from the afterlife? Good to be back? “I’m alive.” Was she supposed to stand and hug Tom now? Amelia, too?