by J. Lynn
Nathaniel set his phone down quietly, motioning her into his office. “Sit.”
It was like she was thirteen again, and she sat awkwardly, folding her hands in her lap like some misbehaving child. She was a full-grown woman who could take down an entire room of minions without breaking a single nail, but none of that mattered when she sat in front of Nathaniel.
He had this look when he was upset with her. It usually started with him absently brushing back his brown hair, then tucking the longer strands behind his ears. His lips would turn down, and he would pierce her with those pale blue eyes. Then fine lines would form around them, marring his otherwise youthful face.
She had no idea how old he was. No one she knew did.
He had to be at least several hundred years old, though he looked about thirty. The same as he had the night he’d pulled her, shrieking and crying, away from her mother’s corpse. She had been five.
“Lily.”
She squirmed. “Nathaniel.”
“First off, what the hell are you wearing?”
Surprised, she glanced down at herself. She was wearing the same thing she’d had on earlier. “Huh?”
“You’re out hunting in a skirt that barely covers your ass,” he remarked.
She bristled even though her cheeks flamed. “Excuse me, fashion police, I didn’t realize I needed your permission on what I could wear.”
He sighed wearily. “I’m only looking out for you.”
“I don’t need anyone looking out for me.”
“That may be, but we’ve got a mess here.” He leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Lily, you know things are heating up. The Fallen are corrupting more and more of the Nephilim. We are losing an increasing number of souls to them, and that means countless innocent people.”
Boy did she know. The Fallen were snatching up the young Nephilim before the Sanctuary could get them safely tucked away. Once the Fallen had them, they were lost. Corrupt as the angels that had fathered them. Those Nephilim turned minion and became the very thing their kind was supposed to hunt.
“The last thing we need is to be exposed.”
Lily shifted, the leather creaking under her slight weight. “I know.”
“Do you even know how many favors I had to call in? Danyal put his neck on the line so no one would question why that young man didn’t come off his shift.”
She fidgeted in the seat. Danyal had enmeshed himself deep within the police department just in case they needed someone in times like these. But favors were always few and hard to cover up.
“I taught you to strike and get the hell out. It’s as simple as that.”
Her lips pursed. That had been the plan, but her temper had gotten the best of her.
“You need to be more careful,” he said quietly.
What he hadn’t said hung in the air between them. She knew he was remembering Anna and what had happened to her. Damn it, she missed her friend fiercely. Anna and Lily had had a tight relationship. She’d been older than Lily, accepting the Contract decades ago. But Anna had first lost her heart and then her head to one of the Fallen.
Foolish, beautiful Anna.
There were so few female Nephilim. Most children were born male, but every few decades a female half-breed would surface. Besides Michelle, who’d been reassigned to New York, Anna had been the only other female hunter in the DC section.
The pain of her loss still reverberated through the halls of the Sanctuary, and no two people were more affected by it than Nathaniel and Luke. They had seen her death as their own personal failure. Lily knew Nathaniel took full blame, believing he hadn’t trained her well enough. Part of her knew Luke agreed with him. The last six weeks had been tough, and the tension between the two males had only grown.
Nathaniel unfolded his arms, letting out a world-weary sigh. “The good thing about this is that we got him instead of the Fallen. I have no idea how he made it this long, but he’ll have the right training now and be able to step fully into his destiny.”
“What?” She shot from the chair.
“Lily,” he warned.
“We can’t train him. He’s too old.”
Nathaniel frowned. “He looked about thirty.”
“Yes! Thirty years of absolutely no knowledge of the Nephilim or the Fallen!”
He raised a brow. “You’re younger than him.”
She sputtered. “I’ve had years of training, and I’ve accepted the Contract. We cannot train him with everything that is going on!”
“We’ll find a way.” He stopped, glancing up. “Better yet, you’ll find a way.”
She was about two seconds from grabbing her hair and pulling. “You’re kidding.”
He smiled. “No.”
“You can’t do this to me. I can’t train anyone. You know I don’t have any patience. I’m better as a hunter.”
“Lily, you’re great as a hunter. You’re one of the best. Hell, you are probably the best,” he admitted. “But this is an order I’m giving you.”
Her hands fell uselessly to her sides. He rarely ordered her to do anything. She knew there was no point in arguing.
“Don’t sulk.” He stood and headed around the desk.
She noticed then that his clothes were wrinkled. Guilt gnawed at her insides. Here she was, adding to his enormous pile of things to worry over. “You haven’t slept have you?”
He paused, looking down at himself. “Is it that obvious?”
She nodded. Frankly, she’d seen him worse, but there was a weariness that clung to his skin. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” she whispered.
He leaned against the desk, stretching his long legs, appearing to choose his words wisely. “I’m afraid someone is betraying us.”
She gaped. Okay, she knew it was bad. She just hadn’t expected it to be that bad. “What do you mean?”
He pushed away from the desk and went to the large cabinet that took up the entire side of the wall. She followed his movements. Curious, she waited quietly.
“Someone is feeding the Fallen a list of every Nephilim we are aware of. I also think the same person is actively seeking ones we have yet to relocate.” He ran his hand over the wood. “With this knowledge, they will quickly outnumber us by the hundreds. It’s sheer numbers. They take more souls and infect more humans.”
And there were so many souls nowadays. Those who perished unexpectedly were vulnerable to persuasion. Those poor souls clung to any hope of life, even the false hope minions provided them.
They invaded the bodies of the living, truly believing it was a second chance at life. But once their soul mingled with the host, things went downhill fast. The human became a deadhead—the human souls withering away for them both.
“With the Fallen operating behind the scenes, where we can’t reach them, we’re left cleaning up their mess time after time.”
She looked up. “Do you know who it is?”
He faced her. “That’s what’s been keeping me up at night.”
She inclined her head. “Do the Powers That Be know?” That’s what she called the angels and whoever else ran this show.
“They haven’t talked to me in a long time.”
That gave her pause. Nathaniel was the Nephilim’s only connection to the Powers That Be who called the shots from their lofty position. She always imagined them perched on a cloud full of morals and pomp, stringing their golden harps while staring at their beautiful reflections.
Lily didn’t like angels, especially their politics.
They viewed her kind as an abomination that had, unfortunately, become necessary. If they were ever successful in eradicating the Fallen and their legions, the Nephilim would be next on their heavenly hit list.
“Well crap,” she muttered.
Nathaniel chuckled. “Exactly. Don’t mention any of what I’ve shared with you about my suspicions. Only the circle is aware of the issue. I want it to stay that way.”
The circle consisted of the oldes
t and most skilled Nephilim in each chapter of the Sanctuary. They were in charge of various things such as disciplinary issues, the most secretive of missions, and the occasional social event that required their participation.
In the DC chapter, it was Nathaniel and Luke, Remy, and about nine other Nephilim. Then there was Lily. She was by far the youngest, but the most skilled. She had a habit of reminding them of that.
“Of course,” she agreed.
“Just keep your ear to the ground for me and report anything that seems odd. Now get back to the cop and make sure you brief him on what he is. You will meet resistance, but try to have patience.”
She arched an eyebrow but didn’t respond.
“Use Remy and Luke for all you need. I trust them. You can also reach out to Rafe.” He flashed a weak smile. “Keep Michael out of the school. I don’t want the young ones to freak him out. You know how they can be.”
Lily smiled at that. The school housed young Nephilim anywhere from five to eighteen. The teenagers were by far the worst, and the youngest ones just hadn’t developed a self-censor system yet. She kind of liked them for that.
Nathaniel smiled fondly at the auburn head that didn’t even reach his chest. “Lily?”
“Yes?”
“Be nice. And, God, please don’t kill him.”
“No promises.”
She left the room and made her way back to level five, deciding she’d gotten off light this time. Her ass had been chewed off far worse than that in the past. Pulling from a seemingly endless supply of energy, she bounded up the stairs.
…
Cory Roberts hurried across the manicured lawn, breathing a sigh of relief when he spotted the senator’s limousine in its designated spot. It was past midnight, and all he wanted was to be home in bed with his wife.
Tomorrow would be jam-packed with meetings, tedious conference calls, a baby or two to be kissed on the cheek, and the senator’s latest scandal to be dealt with.
He juggled the stack of folders in one arm, barely retaining his limp grasp on his coffee. This was why he was losing sleep. Caffeine at midnight and another dose at the crack of dawn was a wretched combination for his heart.
Middle-aged and already balding, with high blood pressure and a sinking suspicion he was developing an ulcer, Cory had had a shitty day. The wire-frame glasses slipped down his nose. This latest affair would surely be the senator’s undoing. There was no way they could cover this up, and the senator’s bitch of a wife was already booking the early-morning talk shows.
The senator couldn’t keep his dick in his pants, and that dick was going to get them all in the unemployment line. Without this job, Cory would lose everything: the money, the illusion of power, the house his wife loved, and even his wife.
He would give his soul for this whole mess to disappear.
The driver stepped forward, opening the door. Cory spared him a tight smile and slid in. Clutching the folders and coffee to his chest, he glanced across the seat, expecting the senator or, at the very least, his whore of a secretary.
The coffee slipped from his fingers.
Cory loved his wife of ten years—had always loved women. He never questioned his sexuality until that moment. It shattered his world.
The man was painstakingly beautiful. Darkly exquisite in a way that bordered on the odd. His face was perfect, and the blue of his eyes promised bliss. Cory reacted to him in a way only his wife had been able to provoke from him. He struggled for air, unable to escape the man’s scent and the faint smell of sulfur.
The man’s full lips curved into a slight smile, as if he knew his effect. His brilliant gaze flickered over the spilled coffee, then back to Cory. “Hello, Mr. Roberts.”
At the sound of the stranger’s voice, Cory’s head splintered with pain. He wanted to sob and he wanted to run, but he couldn’t move.
“You may call me Asmodeus, and I’m here to do you a favor.”
Cory started to respond, but his heart seized. Files toppled to the floor as he clutched his chest, wide-eyed and wheezing. He stared up at the man, inherently knowing he had brought this sudden pain on.
Asmodeus’s smile grew. “I can make the senator’s scandal go away. You can keep your job, the fancy house on the hill…and your wife.”
Cory gasped as the air in his lungs expelled painfully. “What…are you?”
He waved a dismissive hand. “All you have to do is return the favor to me. There’s someone that…I need.”
Chapter Four
Michael felt as if he’d been hit over the head by an NFL linebacker and then walked through the Mojave Desert. He had never been so thirsty in his life.
“Oh, I think he’s waking up.”
He flinched. Those words were exceptionally loud. He had no idea why his head hurt. Finally the fog that had settled over his memories started to clear. There’d been a disturbance call in an alley and an old man. Michael remembered that.
“I guess I don’t know my own strength.”
And he remembered that voice and who it belonged to. His eyes snapped open. He was looking into a pair of startling green eyes. He stared dumbly at the girl perched on a chair beside his bed, wearing this little half smile.
The richness of her auburn-colored hair flattered the pinkish tone of her flawless skin, causing her eyes to shine like emerald jewels. Her rosy lips were lush. Lips that would’ve normally had his cock jumping out of his pants, but something about her turned his insides ice cold.
The girl wiggled her fingers. “Hello.”
He tore his gaze from her, realizing they weren’t alone. Two hulking males stood at the foot of his bed. By the intricate tattoos covering the arms and hands of the lighter-skinned one, he knew they weren’t fellow police officers.
Which would mean? He reached for his gun but came up empty. He jerked up, wincing, and grappled for the small microphone that connected to the radio system. But that was gone, too.
“I’d be careful,” she said. “You shouldn’t move too quickly.”
He turned back to her, stunned this tiny thing had knocked him out. Anger flared, tightening the muscles in his gut and, beyond that, a sense of weariness. “Where is my duty belt?”
Her smile never faltered. “We took it. None of us wanted to get shot. The doctor here hates pulling things out of us.”
“Where’s my gun?”
“Now, boy”—the lighter-skinned one took a menacing step forward—“you watch your tone.”
Michael’s gaze swiveled to him. “Who are you?”
His lips twisted into a sneer. “I’m the one who’ll put you in your coffin if you talk to me like that again.”
Michael swung his legs off the bed and stood. To hell with the thumping in his head and jaw, and forget the fact that he swayed on his feet. “Is that so?”
The girl sighed. “Boys.”
Neither of them listened. The fair-skinned one cocked his head to the side. “If you weren’t already knocked out once today, you’d be on the ground.”
Then the girl was in front of him, firmly planting herself between them. They towered over her, but there wasn’t an ounce of fear in her eyes. “We don’t have time for the pissing contest about to take place,” she said sweetly. “So let’s all take a breather before I kick the crap out of both of you.”
Amused by the pint-size terror, he glanced down. The humor fled when he saw a blade at his throat. The little bitch… But part of him still wanted to laugh.
“You going to behave?” she asked.
Drawing in a deep breath, he stepped back. “All right, I want to know where I am.”
The blade disappeared into the bracelet. “How about we introduce ourselves first? My name is Lily.” Pausing, she gestured at the angry one. “This is Luke. And this is Remy.”
Instinct told him he’d get nowhere with an attitude, so he pushed his temper as far down as he could and tried to remain calm. “My name is Officer Michael Cons, and you guys are in a lot of trouble.”
Luke snorted. “That’s doubtful.”
“Michael?” Lily murmured. “Go figure. Anyway, you’re at the Sanctuary.”
“The security firm in Federal Triangle?” he asked, praying he had misheard. If so, he was far out of his district. When she nodded, he lost his cool. “Where in the hell is my cruiser? And why do you have me here?”
Luke took a step forward, but Lily arched a single brow at him. “Your cruiser is back at the station in the Seventh District. You’ve been clocked out, and, actually, you’ve requested some leave due to personal issues.” She smiled demurely and added, “Courtesy of us.”
He shook his head faintly. He didn’t know whether to be angry or laugh. This was utter bullshit and had to be some bizarre hallucination.
“I can see you’re a bit shocked. It may help if we explain things to you.” The one named Remy stepped forward with a friendly smile.
“You may want to sit down,” Lily advised.
“I’m fine standing.”
She shrugged. “Luke, can you grab something to drink?”
“Whatever. You’re just trying to get me out of the room. You know he’s going to lose it.”
She turned her bright eyes on Luke. “Please?”
The permanent scowl on Luke’s face started to soften, surprising Michael.
“What do you want?” Luke sighed.
“A milkshake,” she requested with an excitement that he was envious of.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Luke shook his head. “I’ll have to make one or go buy you one, Lily. Come on.”
She pouted. “A milkshake.”
Remy laughed. “You might as well go ahead and get her one.” He paused. “And get me one while you’re at it.”
Luke cursed, but he pivoted swiftly and left the room.
Lily turned back to Michael, folding her arms. “Do you remember anything from the alley?”
“Besides you punching an officer?” he replied.
She smiled evenly. “I mean the old man. Do you remember anything about him?”
He remembered the old man’s brute strength. And his foul breath and some other weird stuff he accounted to the knock he took on his skull. “The one you murdered?”
