Angel Bonds

by Lexi C. Foss

  If I knew how to mist, I would. But unlike what Stark says, it is not as easy as walking.

  Do you remember your first steps? Because perhaps it’s similar to that experience, he suggested warmly, brushing his lips against her temple. Give it time, Aya. You’ll figure it out.

  “I’m joining the A-Team,” Leela announced as she took on a corporeal form.

  Balthazar’s eyebrows rose. “Why?”

  “My reasons are my own.” She cocked a brow at Gabriel as if expecting him to object.

  The Seraphim merely shrugged. “If you want to play, then play.”

  “We could use another being capable of teleportation,” Lucian murmured. “Yes, this balances the plan nicely.” He started humming as he shifted a series of papers around on the table, his lips curling in triumph. “This increases our odds of success. Thank you, Leela.”

  “Sure.” She touched the hilt of a sword strapped to her hip. “Can we leave soon?”

  I think I’m going to like her, Aya mused softly.

  Me, too. The Seraphim wasn’t stoic like her counterpart. She seemed to have a personality and fire beneath her wings. Were there more like her? Or did her ties to fertility somehow influence her emotions?

  “Sweetheart, we can do just about anything you like,” Balthazar murmured, his appreciative gaze running over Leela.

  Her lips twitched. “You can’t even begin to handle me, love. Don’t even try.”

  “According to Stark, your kind requires more handling. Something about pleasure being a selfish need?” He cocked his head to the side. “Where do you fall on the spectrum of experience? Being the fertility goddess and all?”

  She sauntered toward him, her blonde hair swaying as she walked, her curves attracting most of the male eyes in the room. One hand went to Balthazar’s hip, while the other pressed into his chest to push him up against the wall.

  “My experience has over a millennium on yours, Balthazar,” she purred. “Trust me, lover. If anyone is going to handle anyone, it will be me handling you.” She trailed her nails down his sternum to his abdomen and lower, stopping at his belt. “But not today.”

  She pushed away, but Balthazar caught her around the waist, yanking her back to him. “We’ve met before,” he said, his gaze searching hers. “Tell me when.”

  Some of her bravado seemed to fade, her shoulders tightening. Do you think he recognizes her from the beach? Issac wondered.

  Maybe. But I don’t remember her taking corporeal form. Astasiya sounded just as intrigued.

  “Your conversation is going to need to wait,” Mateo said, entering the room with one of his tablets. “Jonathan’s credentials were logged about twenty minutes ago at CRF’s headquarters, confirming he’s there. There are no cameras for me to grab a visual, so this is the best I can do.”

  “We have the verbal confirmation that he’ll meet Stark as well,” Lucian murmured. “It’s our best opportunity. Let’s take it.”

  Issac nodded. “I’m ready.”

  “Me, too,” several others said in unison.

  “Fucking finally.” Alik shook out his arms and rolled his neck. “Ash, Warrior Angel Chick, Balthazar—you’re with me. Comms on.” He clicked the button inside his ear, initiating the technology Mateo had created specifically for this mission. The earpieces and respective mics would allow them all to communicate in the underground and report back to Lucian and Mateo on Hydria.

  “We’re not done with this conversation,” Balthazar murmured, his palm against Leela’s back as he nudged her toward Alik.

  She wrapped her palm around the back of his neck and pulled him down into a kiss that silenced the room.

  Holy crap, Aya marveled. She’s like…

  A female version of Balthazar, Issac finished for her, equally amazed.

  “Consider that the end of the discussion,” Leela replied, her teeth snagging on his lower lip. “You’re not ready for me yet.”

  He threaded his fingers through her hair as she tried to step away, his mouth coming down on hers in a practiced move even Issac found impressive.

  “I need two new volunteers for my team,” Alik announced, glancing around the room. “Anyone?” All the others were already assigned, making no one actually available to join.

  “I’m ready, sweetheart,” Balthazar said. “And I’ve definitely kissed you before.”

  Leela visibly shivered. “Only in your dreams.”

  “Mmm, no. I remember your mouth—vividly—but can’t place the memory. You will tell me. Eventually.” He released her with a smile. “Until then, I’ll enjoy our flirtatious foreplay.”

  “Oh, are you two done?” Alik asked, feigning disbelief. “Because I thought we could kill at least another five minutes by fucking about in your living room.”

  Balthazar gave the slightly shorter male an admonishing look. “I would require more than five minutes to provide a proper demonstration. You know that, Alik.”

  He snorted. “Can we go now?”

  “I’ve been ready. We’re just waiting on you to say the word.” Balthazar embodied the picture of innocence, causing Alik to roll his eyes.

  “Jacque. I really need to kill something now.” He extended his arm, palm up.

  “Do not—” Lucian stopped on a growl as Alik disappeared from view, Jacque having already teleported him and Ash from the room. “He’s going to kill them all, isn’t he?”

  “I’ll rein him in,” Balthazar vowed, holding out his hand for Leela. “Shall we?”

  She slid her fingers over his. “Hold on, lover. We’re about to go for a ride.”

  His lips curled. “Oh, I do like you.”

  “I know,” she replied, her violet feathers flickering around them, casting color across the room.

  Unreal, Issac thought. In regard to both the feathers and the intense dynamic between Leela and Balthazar.

  “We better go before they burn down the CRF,” Thomas said, standing with Amelia at his side. “Assuming Jacque is coming back for us?”

  “Yep,” the teleporter replied, his dark hair windswept and curlier than usual. “Alik’s team is already in position. You’re up.”

  “Be careful,” Issac murmured, his words for Amelia. She’d been adamant on going, wanting to help free any of Jonathan’s test subjects who may have suffered her fate. Issac understood her need for closure, and he trusted the team to aid and protect her as needed.

  She smiled. “Tom won’t let anyone touch me.”

  “Damn right,” Thomas agreed, his hand holding hers. “Let’s go.”

  “I need to find Nadia,” Jacque muttered, glancing around. “Hold on. I think she’s with Clara.” He disappeared.

  “We can’t wait on them.” Gabriel glanced at his watch. “I’m always early and John knows it.”

  Issac nodded. “Right, take us to the rally point.” The plan was for them to await Gabriel there as he entered the headquarters through normal means.

  “Alik’s team is in place,” Lucian murmured. “Turn on your comms, Wakefield.”

  Right. Issac touched his ear, initiating the communication device. Astasiya repeated the action, as did Gabriel.

  “We’re on our way,” Issac announced.

  “Hurry up” was Alik’s terse reply. “I’m already bored.”

  Gabriel’s crimson feathers fanned out around them. He grabbed a silent Tristan first, then Astasiya and Issac, whirling them all through space and time to the CRF headquarters.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to play,” Issac said as they arrived in the hallway.

  30

  Stas

  Flying with Stark felt weird. Wrong. Like Stas should be able to do it on her own but required training wheels to move. And she severely disliked the sensation. It left her hairs standing on end, even after he disappeared to enter the CRF through normal means. Or maybe it was the basement of the CRF giving her the creeps.

  Tristan stood across the corridor, hands tucked into his black trousers, his shoulder brac
ed against the wall. He hadn’t looked at or acknowledged Stas since she came back. It was as if he hated her even more, something Issac had also noted. Not out loud, but in his mind.

  When they finished this mission, she planned to ask the Ichorian what the hell his problem was with her. She’d done nothing to deserve his treatment, and she no longer posed a threat to his best friend. He had no reason to be such a reclusive jackass.

  It’s like he’s sulking, she muttered, more to herself than to Issac.

  Don’t worry about him, love. He’ll come through when we need him. Trust me.

  Trust was the only reason she hadn’t requested Tristan be moved to another team. Issac’s faith in his progeny was heartfelt and true, and she couldn’t help but believe in the man as well. Even if he was acting like an ass.

  “Stark just passed through security downstairs,” Leela murmured through the comms. Someone had obviously given her a communication set. Likely Balthazar.

  Such a strange dynamic between them, one Stas intended to investigate more later. Specifically, she wanted to know why Leela had saved him on the beach that day. And more importantly, why she’d not mentioned it to anyone.

  Issac tilted his head to the side and smiled. Ready, darling?

  You know I am, she replied, returning his grin. They stood in the hallway adjacent to John’s office. Tristan masked any sounds associated with their presence, while Issac hid them from view. Not that anyone had ventured this way since their arrival.

  Do you sense John?

  Issac considered, his lips twisting. I’m not sure. It’s hard to identify everyone in my mind, and there are too many in an office setting right now for me to distinguish his sight from the others. He provided her with a glimpse into his power, all the “monitors,” as he called them, showcasing different scenes, none of them identifiable except those he was attuned to most—like Tristan. As Issac rarely played in Jonathan’s mind, he didn’t appear to have his frequency identified.

  She nodded. Hopefully, one of them is John.

  “T-Team is on site,” Tom said through the comms.

  “About fucking time you joined the party,” Alik replied. “I thought we might have to start the show without you.”

  “Jacque had trouble locating Nadia.” From Tom’s tone, he was not pleased by the delay. It seemed odd considering everyone else had reported on time.

  “Clara was having a breakdown,” Nadia muttered, her voice far away and indicating she’d not been given a comm.

  Issac grimaced beside Stas. She’s not taken Aidan’s passing very well.

  I thought she wasn’t really part of their, uh, arrangement? Issac once told her that while Clara lived with Aidan and his harem, she wasn’t really a participant in the sexual side of things.

  I think she cared for him in a familial sense, like a father.

  Yeah, that’s not creepy at all, she thought, shivering.

  They were hardly intimate, darling. He cupped her face. It’s not a dynamic we will ever choose.

  She leaned into his touch. Good.

  The heat from Tristan’s gaze practically scalded Stas’s skin, causing her to glance sideways at the well-dressed Ichorian. Both he and Issac sported dark dress pants and button-down shirts. Very unlike everyone else, who had chosen jeans and casual shirts—like her.

  She arched a brow at him, daring him to say something.

  He lowered his eyes in response.

  Seriously, what is his problem?

  I’ll talk to him when we return, Issac murmured in her thoughts. Let’s focus on Jonathan for now.

  As if hearing those words, Stark appeared at the end of the hallway. He didn’t pause as he passed them, just tilted his head in a way to indicate they should follow.

  Stas swallowed. This was it. The moment they’d been waiting for—vengeance. She waited for a lightness to fall over her, some hint of excitement, even a skipping of her heartbeat.

  Nothing.

  Only a clammy sensation against her palms.

  And a twist in her abdomen.

  Something… isn’t right. She couldn’t explain what or how or where the sensation was coming from. It seemed to start in her chest, spreading outward to her limbs, cramping her legs as they walked. I don’t feel a hundred percent.

  Issac slid his hand to her lower back, offering her support. Talk to me, love.

  It’s… I… She couldn’t find the words. Nerves, maybe? No. That wasn’t it. Bile lined the back of her throat, her brow furrowing. Issac—

  Stark knocked on the door.

  Stas grabbed her stomach.

  “Come in, Sentinel,” Jonathan called, but he sounded eerily far away.

  Issac’s arm slid around Stas as she swayed, her vision blinking in and out. I don’t like this, she whispered.

  I don’t, either, he admitted. Because I don’t sense anyone in that office. Especially not Jonathan.

  She gaped at him. What?

  I thought I did, but it’s not—

  Stark pushed open the door.

  Beyond it sat an oversized desk with a computer monitor.

  And no Doctor Fitzgerald.

  No, that wasn’t right. Doctor Fitzgerald was there, but not in the way they wanted him.

  He grinned up at them from the screen. “Ah, so it’s true,” he murmured, his lips twitching. “You know, when my source told me you were actually a Seraphim and aiding the Hydraians, I thought it had to be a lie. But seeing Issac and Stas behind you now…” He waved a hand as if to say, Well, there it is, then.

  The camera on the monitor flashed a little green light their way. And Issac couldn’t manipulate a captured image via technology. So yeah, game over. Jonathan could definitely see them.

  Stark leaned against the threshold, his posture saying, I don’t give a fuck.

  “Oh, please, all of you, come inside. Sit down. Let’s have a chat.” Jonathan flashed one of those charismatic grins, one she used to adore and respect and now loathed.

  “It’s a trap,” Stas said. “All of this was a setup.”

  “What?” Tom asked through the mic. “Wh…” Crackle. “…me…?”

  Stas glanced at Issac. Something’s interfering with the comms. And she still felt off, almost weak.

  My gift is still functioning. He pressed against her back, nudging her forward. Let’s play along for now.

  “Jonathan,” Issac greeted, guiding Stas into the office and to a nearby chair. Stark remained by the door. As did a stone-faced Tristan. “Good to see your face.”

  “Likewise, Issac.” He smiled. “I’m impressed. I honestly didn’t suspect you knew the truth all these years. How did you manage to withhold your rage?”

  “It’s simple,” Issac replied, his lips curling. “I imagine the way you will eventually die—by my hand—and it brightens my mood considerably.”

  “So confident.”

  “Indeed,” Issac agreed. “So, is there a purpose to this diversion? Or should we continue waiting?”

  John chuckled. “I’ve always enjoyed you, Issac. You almost know how to play this game as well as I do. Alas…” He shrugged. “I do hope you had an escape route in mind. The elevators should be closing right about—”

  Boom!

  The explosion rattled the underground, shaking the equipment on the desk and flickering the lights above. Jonathan’s face dissolved into static, the room around them quivering from the aftershocks.

  “Shit.” Issac was on his feet, and Stark and Tristan were already out the door.

  But Stas couldn’t stand. Her legs resembled rubber, refusing to work. And fuck, her head hurt.

  I really don’t feel well, she whispered to Issac.

  He grabbed her hand, but she hardly felt it. “Aya? Oh, shit.” His touch moved to her forehead, then to her neck. “Gabriel!”

  “Some… ong…” The words tasted funny. No, they sounded funny. Tasted? Maybe. Hmm.

  She glanced around. Everything had gone dark.

  Oh, she didn�
��t like this.

  The last time she experienced a lack of light, she’d suffocated.

  Over and over and over again.

  No, thank you.

  A tremble rocked through her, followed by a harsh shake that had her eyes flying open to see a pair of sapphire orbs. So pretty. She reached out to touch them, but no, they were too far away. Oh, but he had a nice mouth. Saying her name, she thought.

  What is wrong with me?

  Such a weird dream.

  No, reality.

  Wait… Where am I?

  A foreign room surrounded her. Dirt-laden walls, resembling an archaic dungeon apart from the beautiful sky above her. Chains clamped around her wrists. Her legs were encased in cement. And oh, it burned! Yet she kept pouring the scalding liquid into her confined space because it’s what he told her to do.

  She frowned. Why would I do such a thing? How did I get here?

  Astasiya! The blast ruptured her vision, cascading her into a room encased in windows. The ceiling. The walls. So open. So beautiful. And the scent of the ocean, ah, she loved that.

  Stark’s house, she recognized. Or the place she’d seen shortly after being pulled out of the ground. Wait… Was this some sort of time loop? Had she just woken up again? Am I in a nightmare?

  “Here,” a familiar voice said. Owen.

  “Cheers,” Issac replied. The scent of coffee drew her attention to the mug in his hand. He held it toward her. “Drink, Aya.”

  “Why?” She coughed, the sound coming out hoarse and painful. Fuck, her throat hurt. How? She took the cup, sipping the warmth into her mouth and swallowing. Heaven. What the fuck had happened? Where’s Jonathan? The CRF?

  “Everyone’s fine,” Issac assured her. “The mission wasn’t a complete wash. But Jonathan destroyed his own building.”

  Her eyes widened. “What?” Her voice came out slightly more normal.

  “He detonated the lobby, causing the building to collapse. It’s honestly a miracle we all escaped alive. But you were knocked out.” He touched her temple. “One of the ceiling panels fell on your head.”

  She blinked, not remembering anything other than the explosion and everything going dark.