The Rise of Monsters: Angelus Book One

by Brianna Jean

  Jesus.

  She stopped for a moment, looking around at the red walls, taking in the black and white tiled floor, before her eyes landed on me and softened. Her tone was gentle. “He wants me to follow my instincts, but those instincts are the exact reason I want all of this to go away.”

  “Anna.” I stepped toward her and was relieved to find that she let me get close to her. Taking further liberties, I grabbed the bottom of her hoodie and began lifting it slowly, waiting for her to give me permission. She lifted her arms, allowing me to pull the garment over her head, leaving her in Lanier’s shirt. “I need you to just tell me where your head is at so I can help you. I want to talk this out with you.”

  She huffed and pulled the remaining shirt over her head, leaving her in just a lacy black bra and sweatpants. Her abs clenched, the soft curves of her hips peeking out above the waistline.

  I bit back a groan, all the blood in my body rushing straight to my dick.

  She was fucking flawless.

  The roundness of her tits made my mouth water—they looked to be the perfect handful, soft, inviting, worthy of all my attention.

  “Eyes up here, Cabe,” she snapped. “Why? Why do we have to have this conversation?”

  I struggled to look away from her body and up to her eyes. It had been eleven years.

  Eleven. Fucking. Years.

  I saw her grow up. Hell, I grew up with her. She was only a few years younger than me, and now that I was a man, everything was infinitely more complicated. When the visions showed her being so beautiful, what else was I going to do? I fell for her ghost, I craved her, I wanted to find her and make her mine. And here she was, standing before me, acting like I didn’t have the right to be awed by her. Like I didn’t deserve this moment.

  “Because I’m used to feeling what you feel, Annalise. I have spent the last eleven years seeing your life through a microscope. I know everything you loved, everything you hated, everything that made you who you are. I’ve experienced your life with you, Annalise, and I’m not about to stop now. I’m realizing that some things were left out, but it doesn’t matter. I have spent my entire adult life in love with a ghost, someone who didn’t fucking exist outside of my head. I had no idea where to find you, if you even lived in this fucking country. I saw you cry, and I couldn’t hold you; I saw you shut down when Brinley left, and I couldn’t put you back together.”

  I moved toward her, closing the distance. I ignored the fear in her eyes, the emotions she tried so hard to hide, and grabbed her face in my hands. I was growing bolder, more desperate. “I want to know because I want to help. And I want to help because I’m the only one who knows how to. Quint can read you, yeah. He understands a side of you that I never got to see. But I knew you before the bond, I knew you before they did. I vowed years ago to protect you, and here you are.”

  I didn’t move, still cradling her face in my hands. Her eyes bounced between mine, her walls climbing around us, threatening to block me out entirely.

  “Don’t you fucking dare,” I warned.

  “I’m not her,” she spat, trying to pull away.

  I tightened my grip. “Yes, you are, Annalise.”

  “I’m not,” she repeated, losing some of her fight.

  I brushed my thumbs across her cheekbones, loving the feel of her soft skin beneath my fingers. “You are, Anna.”

  “I can’t do this.” She snapped her head away and looked down, her hands coming to her hair. Now that she was without a shirt, I took in the tattoos littering her body. She was covered in small designs, each one specific and entirely unique. The snake slithering up from the waistline of her pants caught my attention.

  How far down did its body go? Did it wrap around her thigh? Hug her hip?

  “Do what?” I asked, tearing my eyes away from her body to look at her face. “What are you so afraid of?”

  “Trusting you,” she whispered, looking up into my eyes. “I can’t trust you guys, Cabe. I can’t give into these instincts, because then I will, I will eventually learn to trust you, and I just can’t, okay? My freedom was taken from me; I am now a slave to these powers, this instinct, this darkness. I’m a slave to something I don’t know how to control, and I hate it. I know that you think you know me, and I feel safe with you, I feel understood, but I don’t understand how that’s possible. I’m still trying to wrap my head around all this.”

  I took a deep breath, blowing it out hard enough to part the steam that quickly filled the room. I didn’t think, didn’t put my decisions through a filter, instead I backed her into the shower, not caring about her pants getting wet or my own clothes. This was too important.

  “Stop thinking,” I said with command lacing my tone. “Stop putting pressure on an instinct and involving feelings that you don’t even feel yet. You don’t trust us, so hold on to that. That’s okay, we’ll have to earn it. But don’t deny your instincts in fear of trust. You want something? I’m with Quint on this one, take it. Leave emotions out if you have to, but don’t ignore the instinct.”

  “You sound like you know exactly what I’m struggling with,” she replied, biting her bottom lip, looking up to me under thick lashes. I did know what she was struggling with—the bond between us. It was primal and consuming. It was hard to think around the need to claim her in every way, but I fought it because I wanted this to last.

  She was comfortable with sex, with herself, with her needs. Anyone could tell just by the way she carried herself, but I wasn’t going to let her use that against me and risk ruining any chance we had. “Don’t tempt me, Annalise. I’m not strong enough to stop this once it starts.”

  She gripped the waist of her joggers and pushed them down, leaving her in just her fucking bra. I tried to ignore the snake tattoo that started halfway down her thigh, but I couldn’t look away; I was helpless to her body.

  “Jesus Christ,” I breathed. “You’re—”

  “Off limits,” she chided. “For now.”

  Surprised, I tore my eyes from her legs, ignoring the smooth skin of her pussy entirely, and forced my gaze on her gorgeous face. “For now?”

  “Yes, for now, I have to decide if your advice is good or a bunch of bullshit. So get out. I’ll meet you guys downstairs. There better be a fat blunt down there for me, or I’m out of here.”

  With that, she turned into the water, giving me a perfect view of her ass.

  Motherfucker.

  I’d get her that blunt, and I’d enjoy watching her hit it.

  She was a wicked creature, a perfect tornado, an emotionally charged full moon.

  And she completely owned me.

  I scrubbed my body with Lanier’s male-scented soap, trying to ignore the giant gaping hole in my stomach. He still wasn’t back. He’d been gone since Quint and I fell asleep, and eight hours later, he still wasn’t home.

  I was about ready to tear the skin off his bones, and again, I hated it.

  But I hated my own complaining more.

  I always knew that something was different about me, I felt it my entire life, but I had no reason to believe that I was anything other than ordinary. Now, all these years later, I had finally shifted. I had the evidence, I felt the hunger, the power, the sense of self. I was an Angel.

  And something else.

  Something more.

  That was what scared me—the fact that I had no real answer to my most important question. But I’d get it done. I’d figure it out.

  And the hulking men downstairs would help me.

  We were connected, I knew that for sure. I could feel each of them, even now, as I washed my hair. Downstairs, Quint was anxious, but not about anything specific, he was just an anxious person. Always bouncing his leg or biting his nails. He was haunted and dark, but he was also vulnerable with his emotions. He was always honest with me, even though he came invisible.

  He hid behind his magic, but the end result was still the same, and I understood him.

  Cabe.

  Cabe would b
e a problem.

  He was in love with me. I felt it like a blanket of unwanted protection every time he was near. He watched my movements, focused on the little details of my personality, and I wasn’t sure what to do with it.

  If I learned to trust him, I would get used to having him around. But no one ever stuck around. I’d lost Brinley, and I couldn’t risk my heart again by loving someone and watching them walk away from me.

  She never fucking called, she never found me again.

  I still cared, I still wanted to find her and demand to know why she fucking left me, but I had no idea where to start.

  And that is the endless circle that I have lived in since the day she left.

  Because of all that, Cabe would be a risk. He was in love with a girl that didn’t exist. He wanted me to open up, to let him in, but if he really knew me, then he’d know that I’d never willingly let that happen. I did it once—I let someone love me, I even loved him back, and it bit me in the ass.

  Lanier was a different issue entirely. He was my perfect match.

  Move for move, steel for steel, power for power, we matched. He was angry, so was I. He wanted out of this, so did I.

  He wanted me, I wanted him.

  The shitty part was that he didn’t want to want me, and I wished that he did.

  If I were honest with myself—which I always tried to be—I already knew that the root of my issue was the fact that the person I felt the strongest for…wanted me the least.

  His approval was something that I needed, that Bestia needed. She bowed to him.

  I refused.

  Now he was out somewhere, and I was here struggling with a jealousy that felt so foreign I wished a doctor could prescribe me an antibiotic.

  This feeling was toxic and heavy, the bloodlust lingering in the back of mind. The bond between us felt achy and angry with him gone.

  But there were more pressing issues to deal with first. I could deal with Lanier’s moody ass later.

  First things first: Buck up, buttercup.

  I stepped out of the shower, clean and feeling ready to tackle whatever came next.

  I was an Angel. I was also something else.

  Own it. Live it.

  Figure it out.

  I threw on Lanier’s clothes after braiding my wet hair, happy with my choices—I was comfortable and ready for my blunt. I paused at the door, looking at my gun on the end table next to Lanier’s bed. I didn’t think I would need it downstairs, but it felt like a lifeline now that I had it.

  Cabe wanted to earn my trust, and something about him called to me, different than the bond, different than his visions of me—this feeling was all my own.

  I left the gun in the room, closing the door behind me.

  My stomach growled loudly as I headed out of the room and toward the stairs. The sweet scent of marijuana drifted up the hallway, making me smile.

  Cabe listened.

  I hit the last step with a thud, making sure that my presence was known before heading for the living room.

  Quint was lying on the couch, facing the gigantic TV that was mounted to the wall, in a deep green hoodie and black joggers, his feet bare. I focused in on them and fought the urge to laugh—even his feet were sexy.

  I couldn’t see his face, just the top of his head, but even still, he looked like a more lethal version of Machine Gun Kelly. Tall and tortured, sexy as hell and just a little past psycho.

  His muscles though were entirely unique to him. I could see the hard body beneath his clothes, wishing I knew him well enough to touch him without it being awkward. I wanted to—Bestia wanted me to. In fact, she was pushing me toward curling up on the couch with him wrapped around me, but I held her back, trying not to complicate the situation by adding fuel to our fire.

  Bedtime was coming soon, and I had no idea what to expect.

  “Your blunt, Minx.” Quint held up a hand, waving the blunt in my general direction without knowing where I was.

  “Thanks.” I snagged it and put it to my mouth, walking around the edge of the couch to the loveseat that sat on the opposite side. Sitting down, I pulled the smoke deep into my lungs and held it there for a few seconds before blowing it out in a cloud dense enough to rival Snoop Dogg.

  I coughed, relished the burn, and brought it back for another hit.

  After the second cloud disappeared, I handed it to Cabe who met my eyes when our fingers touched.

  Holy hell.

  His blue eyes flared, seeing right through me as he licked his lips and placed the blunt delicately against his bottom one. I felt myself slip, watching the curve of his lips, the swipe of his tongue.

  As he closed his mouth around the blunt, I fought for control. He was milking this moment so hard, but I was helpless to his intentions.

  I could handle his seduction, any day, anywhere, any time. But what I couldn’t handle was not being able to do anything about it. I sat frozen in his hot gaze, wishing like fuck that I could throw caution to the wind and fuck him right here, right now.

  I couldn’t.

  I was too fucking scared of him.

  Of his lust, his love, his entire presence was enough to send me spiraling. If I wasn’t careful, he would open me up to emotions that I told myself I’d never feel again.

  See, loving someone meant a slow death.

  Every time they hurt, you hurt. Every argument ate away at your core, every missed call and late text caused panic and fear. Every day, you woke up not knowing if you’d go to bed with them that night or if they’d never come home.

  Or maybe that was just me.

  Either way, those were real fears, real feelings, harsh truths. I couldn’t do it.

  I wouldn’t do it.

  “Smoke the blunt and keep the sexy eyes to yourself, Cabe.” I winked, playing the part I needed to play.

  “I like this version too, you know,” he replied, his voice like soft silk.

  “Oh, you do, do you?” I questioned, gesturing for him to hand me back the blunt. He took two quick hits, one after another, and then handed it to me.

  “I do.” Smoke curled out of his nostrils as he closed his mouth and watched me.

  “Which version of what?” Quint asked, his eyes hooded with the high.

  “The version that bites,” Cabe replied, eyes blazing.

  Not caring that Quint was still confused, I tilted my head and smiled, a plan formulating. “Then kiss me.”

  Cabe paused, eyes narrowing. “Kiss you?”

  “Kiss you?” Quint echoed.

  “Sure, why not? If you like this version of me so much, then you can handle kissing me without making a big deal out of it, right?” I knew this would fuck things up, I fucking knew it, but I was helpless against the urge.

  I wanted to fuck him over, I wanted him to give up on me, I wanted him to stand. Fucking. Down.

  This was the only way to do that.

  “Fine.” And then he was up out of his seat and on me.

  His lips slammed onto mine, stealing my breath, my soul, my resolve, my fear. He sucked it from me, pulling every ounce of trepidation right out of my reach as I fell face first into the kiss. I moaned, unable to stop myself, and placed my hands on the sides of his face, standing on my tippy toes to get as close as possible.

  His lips were fucking pillows, soft and gentle while still demanding my all. I gave as good as I got it, letting my mouth fall open for his tongue to explore. He tasted like the ocean, clean and pure. Home.

  He tasted like home.

  The kiss changed as I realized it, going from forced and challenge-driven to soft and explorative. Then he was kissing the girl he knew, the girl he spent the last eleven years falling for.

  He relaxed with relief as I let the kiss continue. I felt his hands wrap around my waist, locking me in his arms with no hope for escape.

  I kissed him back, tracing the lines of his lips with my tongue, learning his taste, feeling the emotions he normally held just a little too far out of my reach. />
  I could taste on his tongue that he loved all of me. He was proving it in the kiss, and it wasn’t long before I couldn’t take any more.

  I bit down on his bottom lip, causing him to suck in a breath and let out a groan. My pulse spiked, my pussy flooded.

  Fuck, I had to end this before I took it too far and led him on.

  I pulled back, putting on a smile so he didn’t see how affected I was by what I’d seen and felt in his kiss.

  Quickly, I searched for Quint. He sat on the couch, fists clenched, eyes hard, fear and jealousy swirling within their fiery depths.

  “Come here,” I demanded, not going easy on his warring emotions. Now he was the one who needed to pull it together. “Take what you want, Demon.”

  He groaned the sexiest sound, closing the distance between us in less than a second. I flew into the wall behind me, my back slamming against the hard drywall.

  I didn’t care.

  Fuck. Me.

  Quint’s kiss was worlds different than Cabe’s. It was raw and dripping in vulnerable fear. I wanted to soothe him, calm him down, but he was so fucking tall I couldn’t properly hold him. I jumped, wrapping my legs around his waist.

  He groaned into my mouth as he deepened the kiss that was somehow more emotional than Cabe’s. This was intense in a different way.

  This was between two fearful people, two abandoned beings, who had no idea what to do with the feelings that threatened to wipe them out.

  The kiss was desperate as Quint breathed me in like I was the very air he needed to live. He cupped my ass before moving his hands to my waist, then slid them up my spine to grasp the back of my neck. He applied pressure, forcing me to tilt my head to allow him more access.

  His tongue danced with mine, a sweet flavor of spices.

  The weed gave me a buzz, but these kisses, these emotions, they had me higher than any drug could get me.

  He was oxygen and I was breathless.

  I pulled back, so turned on I couldn’t see straight.

  “I’m about four seconds from grinding on you like a fucking teenager,” I whispered, placing my forehead against his.

  “Mmmm,” was all he said, his heart racing against mine.