“What is it, love?” Marcy pouted. Her deep purple eyes glowed red, a sure sign she was actually turned on by his rejections, believing it was all part of the foreplay. He wished it were, but his hard on wasn’t for the Darklin, but for the human he wanted to forget. “This isn’t working.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is that right?” Her hand squeezed him between the legs, revealing the obvious.
“Didn’t I say so?” He didn’t want her and he wasn’t going to pretend just to get off. Marcy might not think so, but he was doing her a favor.
She dislodged herself from his embrace in a huff. Her long strides to escape his presence left no doubt she was one pissed off female.
He pressed his palms to the tabletop as he stood, ready to head out, but the power surge stopped him cold. It swept through the bar with enough preternatural energy to light an entire neighborhood. His eyes darted over the crowd of people, searching for the disturbance.
Then his gaze latched onto the Archangel at the same time the godly creature spotted him. Barachiel shed his usual attire of leine and robe for the nightlife attire of black slacks, T-shirt, and a leather jacket. Armani, he thought. The lustrous, toffee-colored locks framing his face were both rugged and beautiful, or so he thought since every female in the room watched the Archangel’s every move like hungry wolves ready to devour. If Barachiel had let his true self be shown in all its glorious light, he’d fry everyone in the room, including him. They didn’t call him the Archangel of Lightning for nothing.
It would be senseless to slip out the back door at this point, seeing as the Archangel’s strides were pointed in his direction. “Splendid,” he cursed under his breath. “A heart to heart with an Archangel. Now my friggin’ night is complete.” He fell back into his seat, his hand reaching for his beer.
He’d feared his poking around into Leroy’s death would ruffle someone’s feathers, he just hadn’t expected it to be one of the head honchos in Heaven.
Barachiel slipped into the booth’s seat opposite him as if he’d been invited to do so. “Fancy meeting you here.” His full lips curved.
Like hell this is a chance meeting. “Let’s skip the sweet talk and tell me why you’re sitting at my booth.”
Barachiel’s smile fell and his light yellowish-green eyes glowed like fire orbs, barely resembling eyes at all.
Lucca didn’t flinch. Let him take him out. Then this earthbound torment would be over, but it seemed Barachiel had other plans. His eyes cooled and he sat back in the booth, at least feigning cordial politeness. “You’ve been asking questions.” When Lucca didn’t answer, he elaborated. “About Leroy Fennings’ death.”
“Yeah, whoever killed him, seemed to enjoy it a bit too much if you ask me. Thought it a good idea to find out who it was and eliminate him.”
Barachiel didn’t flinch. So maybe the boy’s upstairs didn’t take out Leroy as he first thought, but he couldn’t think of what other being had as much power.
“Leroy was a Time Guardian,” Barachiel said, as if this answered all questions.
He knew there were Time Guardians, but he hadn’t known Leroy was one of them. Of course Leroy wouldn’t announce it with a calling card. If no one knew who the Time Guardians were, they couldn’t be coerced into opening a portal. Is that what had happened? Had someone discovered Leroy’s secret? “So, Leroy had a day job. What of it?” He sure hoped he didn’t have to drag out every word or this would take all night.
“Time Guardians are of the Apparitions hierarchy. They aren’t corporeal to this realm without a host.”
Lucca shifted in his seat. Leroy possessing some poor soul didn’t sit well with him. He had rather liked the old guy.
“When an Apparition is threatened,” Barachiel continued. “He must break free of the host.”
That explained why the body looked like it exploded. “Are you telling me one of you guys came down and freed Leroy?”
Barachiel nodded. “It was either one of us or Kasadya, and believe me, his way would be far worse.”
He couldn’t imagine how. Leroy’s death or expulsion looked agonizing. “Last I heard, only Archangels possessed this special fire source, so how would Kasadya manage the feat?”
For a beat of an angel’s wing, Barachiel’s features lost its shield, but it had been too quick and Lucca didn’t know what he saw flickering behind the Archangel’s eyes. Fear, perhaps. “There were Archangels who fell.”
He let the words hang there, letting Lucca come to his own conclusion. Archangels who fell? Like Lucifer? There were other Archangels besides him. When Lucca remained silent, Barachiel filled in the obvious blanks.
“The Five Satans.”
He let out a low whistle of disbelief. The Fallen heard the stories of the Five Satans, but it never crossed his mind they’d been Archangels. “But I thought they were banished to the deepest realms of Hell. What are you saying? Are you telling me they’re loose?”
“One of them. Kasadya. It is feared Kasadya wants to access the portals so he can free the other four.”
“Please tell me Leroy didn’t give up his secrets.” Lucca made a growling sound in the back of his throat in exasperation. “Shouldn’t your binding spells be tougher than that?”
Barachiel’s murderous glare returned. Lucca was thrilled to know he could bring the best out in the Archangel. “Arizul, your father is who released Kasadya,” he bit out the words, all but accusing Lucca as well for the deceit.
Lucca sat still. Sick fear coiled in his stomach like a live snake ready to strike. He sensed his father’s presence, the niggling at the base of his neck in warning when Kordon had attacked him and tonight at Eli’s. It hadn’t been his imagination then. He shook his head. “Why would my father let one of the Satans loose?”
“We thought you would know.”
He choked out a laugh of disbelief. “I haven’t seen my father in centuries. Why would I know what the evil bastard is doing?”
Barachiel tilted his head to the side, staring at Lucca with curiosity. “Did Arizul not nurture you, teach you the ways of the world?”
“My father?” Lucca’s voice rose, the snarl of anger nearly taking over. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. All sounds in the bar ceased to exist as the roaring in his ears took over. “My father hated me. Nurtured? No, he didn’t take me under his wing and guide me,” the sarcasm cut like a knife, making Barachiel flinch. “I think we’re through here.” He moved to leave.
“No, we’re not.” Barachiel’s low voice spoke as a command.
As Lucca tried to stand, but he found his limbs wouldn’t obey. He glared at Barachiel, fury raging in him like a fire out of control. If he possessed the ability to blast fire from his eyes, Barchiel would be a pile of ash right now. When he could only imagine the deed, it pissed him off more. “What do you want?” A sick dawning made him panic, but he forced it away. “Am I the next host for your Apparition? Trust me, I won’t vacate my body without a fight.” Funny, how only minutes before he thought Barachiel ending his life would be a good idea. Well, it was when it was his idea.
“You do have an active imagination. Apparitions do not inhabit the Nephilim. They take a human within minutes of their natural death. As the soul vacates the body, the Apparition moves in. The body continues housing the Apparition without pause.”
“And here I was thinking perhaps the Choir boys were into possessions like some of the lesser demons.”
Barachiel didn’t answer, but a flash of light behind his irises told him his comparison ticked him off. “Enough with the small talk,” he said. “I have a proposition for you.” With a wave of his hand, he released his hold on Lucca.
Lucca fell against the back of the seat. “Is that so? You’ve insulted me. You’ve held me against my will. What makes you think I’d be interested in anything you have to say?”
Barachiel’s lips curved. “I had to know where you stood with your father, and trust me you’ll be interested in what I have to offer.”
Lucca didn’t like it one bit. The cheesy smile only meant Barachiel had something to offer he wouldn’t want to refuse. He was so screwed.
“We’re willing to give you back your wings if you do us a little favor.”
There was no such thing as little favors with the Archangels. These Angels were don’t-make-a-deal-with-them kind of Angels that is if you wanted to keep your wings from being singed or plucked right out of your back like a chicken ready for roasting. However, he didn’t have wings at the moment and curiosity egged him on to be an eegit. “What’s the favor?”
Again Barachiel’s lips curved, but the smile didn’t reach his canary colored eyes. He had a hunch the favor didn’t involve taking a niece to the opera kind of favor. “We’re looking for two people,” he said. “Humans.”
Lucca’s brows rose with surprise. He had believed Archangels could find anyone or anything if they put their minds to it. Interesting little tidbit to be tucked away. Again instead of his tongue minding its own business, words flew from his mouth forming the question. “If these two people fell off your radar, how do you expect me to find them?” He sipped his beer, noticing the room had resumed its normal clamor, ignoring them completely. Even the three blonde Barbie looking women lost interest in the beautiful male sitting across from him.
“You’re tight with the Hashasheen demons.”
“That’s one way of putting it.” He didn’t mention they’d rather kill him than talk to him, but they’d have to get in line. As for helping him find two humans, the Hashasheens were liable to cut his tongue out, cook it over an open fire before they decided to slit his throat. Yeah, they were real tight. “Are the Hashasheen demons holding the humans?” He couldn’t figure out Barachiel’s angle here. Shouldn’t he be worried about the Satan roaming the earth’s realm knocking off Time Guardians? What could the humans have done?”
“The Hashasheen demons have something we want back that will aid us in finding the time travelers.”
“Are you saying the humans time traveled here? But that’s impossible unless…” Dawning spread through him like fire, warning him this wasn’t good. Humans couldn’t time travel without help, the ability to time travel was lost to the humans. If one managed to break through the veils of time, it was purely by accident not design. “I take it one of your pals went rogue.” He had a hunch he knew which one, but he’d let Barachiel have the honors revealing the traitor.
Barachiel’s eyes glowed again, anger of being betrayed by his own kind obviously rankled him. “Yes, Raziel has overstepped his bounds and has taken it upon himself to aid the humans. The disruption your father created, along with Raziel’s time jump has put the timeline off kilter. It needs to be set right again.”
His father always had been obsessed with the timeline and events, but his siding with a Satan threw him off. His father liked to be in control, not be controlled. He highly doubted the Satan would give his father full reign. Still his father’s betrayal wasn’t as much of a surprise as Raziel’s unorthodox move. Why would Raziel risk such an offense? What was so important about the humans?
“Do we have a deal?” Barachiel pushed.
Striking a deal with an Archangel was as binding as striking a deal with Lucifer. Then again, Lucifer had once been an Archangel before his wings were cut from his flesh. He heard the demon sprouted bat-like wings of some sort instead of his refined featherlike beauty he’d been known for. Rumors could be wildly exaggerated but he had no wish to confirm the claim one way or the other. “Who are the humans?”
Barachiel sat back in his seat with a smug look of triumph. His face was all angles of beauty as the light shone on him. Too bad his personality sucked or he’d have the females wanting him, but of course it was beneath an Archangel to mingle with the lower beings on earth. “You don’t have to worry about the humans. We’ll take care of them when the time comes.”
Which translated: Not only did he not know where the humans were, he didn’t know who they were. “Who takes care of my father and his evil partner?”
“You won’t have to worry about them either. All we need you to do is retrieve Raziel’s Book of Magic.”
Raziel’s book? Lucca kept his emotions in check, shielding his surprise behind his mug of beer. He sipped his beer slowly more to irritate Barachiel than out of any enjoyment. He placed his mug down on the table. “Just so I understand this correctly: You want me to retrieve the Book of Magic all in exchange for having my wings back?”
“That’s the deal.” The Archangel nodded.
“The Hashasheen demons aren’t going to just hand over the book. What makes you believe they have it anyway?”
“Let’s just say, I’ve heard it on good authority.”
Too bad his informant was wrong, but he wasn’t going to volunteer the information. Lucky for him, he did know where the Book of Magic was hidden or at the very least, the last place it had been. If all went well, he could retrieve the book, hand it over to Mr. Charming here, and have his wings back all before the end of the week. Easy enough; what did he care about two humans on the run? If the retrieval of the book got rid of his father, all the better. The Archangel could do what he wanted as long as he kept up his end of the bargain. He met Barachiel’s gaze. “Deal.”
Before he could decipher what the Archangel was about, Barachiel leaned forward and clasped both his forearms in a grip he couldn’t break.
“What the hell?”
Barachiel eyes took on the weird glow again, bright sunlight yellow, like a blaze from the star itself. Barachiel’s right hand glowed too, the warmth seeping into Lucca’s skin, burning like he was being cooked alive from the inside out. He couldn’t move, couldn’t break away until the bastard let him go.
He flew back hard against the booth’s headboard. He rubbed his forearm, expecting to see his flesh burned away to the bone, but his skin wasn’t charred. It wasn’t smooth flesh anymore either. His gaze riveted to Barachiel’s. “Though your artistic flare is to be commended, I don’t believe I asked for a tattoo.” The bluish tattoo of spirals reminded him of the ancient Celts’ designs etched in stone.
Barachiel gave him a weird-half cocked smile, chilling his blood. “I’ve made a type of bond with you.”
“Excuse me? I’m not into males and no bonding ritual is going to change that.”
Barachiel chuckled at his panic. “Don’t be absurd. Touch the tattoo and demand my presence and I’ll find you immediately. Think of the bonding as a tracking device. So if have any inclination to double cross me, I’ll be able to locate you. The tattoo works both ways.” He stood now, towering over him. His power radiated from him like fire burning in a hearth. “I’ll give you until the end of the week. Believe me, if you betray me, you won’t want me to find you.”
Of that, Lucca had no doubt.
Chapter Twenty-One
Eli sat across from Chaziekal, or Chaz for short. He was one of the appointed Grigori elders of the twenty-first century. Chaz’s strands of hair gleamed like golden silk from the firelight that blazed from the hearth. The gray in his dark wings glittered with a silver sheen.
The Watchers owned the castle-like structure in the Otherworldly realm—with stonewalls and dungeon, too—not that they’d used the dungeon in a millennium. They took their leisure in the library where the ancient tomes written by the Grigori lined the shelves of the bookcases from floor to ceiling
The room was large, accommodating the Fallens’ wings with ease and allowing them to fly toward the dome above with its clear glass to let in daylight or reveal the night’s sky. When the dome stood fully open, they could use this room as a form of entry or exit.
Chaz sipped red wine with relaxed ease, his gaze locking onto Eli over the rim of the goblet. “She will be fine. The physicians will not hurt your mate.”
Eli gave a whisper of a smile. “I know Ryden is in good hands.” They were there to run tests, to make sure Ryden was okay. The wound she received last night had completely healed, a mi
raculous feat in itself. Humans didn’t heal so quickly. Her ability proved another mystery they all wanted to unravel. If she could heal herself, would she also live longer, too?
Eli couldn’t help but thrill at the idea of Ryden picking up Nephilim traits. He would take as many years allotted them to be together, no matter how few they may be, but if there were a chance they could be together for centuries, he would celebrate the fact.
“If you do not fear for your mate then tell me what is troubling you?”
Eli looked at his cup as if realizing for the first time he indeed held the goblet in his hand. He placed it down on the marble end table beside him. “I was thinking about Lucca.”
“Lucca?” the elder’s brows rose. “Has he caused difficulties?”
Eli leaned forward. “Lucca was there last night when the demons attacked.”
“I see. Do you believe he orchestrated the attack?”
Eli had thought about it long after Ryden and he retired for the night. He went over every second of the fight in his mind and came to the same conclusion. “No. Lucca just happened to be there when the demons were coming after Ryden.” Eli gave Chaz a complete account of what happened last night, leaving nothing out. “You can see why I’m troubled. A lost cat or a person racing their sports car too fast down the street are about the most unnerving events to take place in Huntington Harbor, demons don’t stage fights and extractions there.”
“You said Lucca saved Ryden from a sure death. You are positive?” Chaz asked.
Eli nodded. “He claimed he wanted to talk to me, but after what happened, I was in no mood to sit down for a chat. Now I wish I had. Something is going on with him.”
Chaz finished the last of his wine and placed his goblet next to Eli’s full glass. “Then it would be wise to set up your chat.” The elder’s gaze held his. “But don’t be fooled by Lucca. He’s cunning when he wants to be. His upbringing…” A pang of remorse shadowed Chaz’s features. “Lucca’s father was diligent in his teachings, forcing his low opinions of humans on Lucca and punishing him when he disagreed.”
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