by Larissa Ione
Suzanne’s heart leaped into her throat as she stood in the living room of the apartment she and Declan maintained in Dallas. It had been Dec’s bachelor pad when he was single, and they’d kept it as a cover so his human friends wouldn’t know he was actually commuting from New York via Suzanne’s angelic taxi service, as he called it.
Now the apartment was packed with Declan’s colleagues at DART. Colleagues covered in blood and bandages. Everyone except Kynan, anyway. Suzanne didn’t know the whole story, but he’d apparently been charmed by angels and gifted with some sort of immunity to injury by demons. She’d have to ask him about it someday.
Someday after she forgave him for allowing Declan to be hurt.
She grabbed him by the arm. “What do you mean it’s not as bad as it sounds? Where is he?”
“He’s in the bedroom, but—”
She didn’t wait for Kynan to finish. She sprinted into the bedroom to find Declan, clad in only a pair of sweatpants, sitting on the bed with an icepack at his temple. A male in hospital scrubs stood in front of him, one hand on Declan’s shoulder. The glyphs that spanned the entire length of the doctor’s fingers, hand, and arm glowed with power that cut off as the door closed behind her.
Declan looked over at her with a smile. “Hey. Good timing. Eidolon is just finishing.”
Weird. She hadn’t known that the infamous demon doctor who ran Underworld General Hospital made house calls. When she thought about it, though, it made sense, given that he was mated to Tayla, who had been in the living room when Suzanne arrived.
Suzanne nodded in greeting, hoping her wariness didn’t show. Most demons lived in Sheoul, a hell realm run by a fallen angel named Revenant after a coup that ended with Satan imprisoned, but some, like Eidolon and his siblings, lived among unsuspecting humans. And just like humans, demons came in all shades of good and evil, a yin-yang effect that balanced out the universe. Eidolon was considered one of the rare good demons. An ally, even.
But even though she’d worked with Eidolon’s brother Wraith and she herself had once been treated at UG, the demon still made her nervous, as if she should keep her defensive powers on tap in case she needed to use them quickly.
“What happened?” She moved to Declan and sank down on the mattress beside him as Eidolon tucked his stethoscope into his medical bag. Declan looked tired, and fading bruises marred the left side of his face and jaw, but his smile was bright.
“I got nailed by a Noirmal demon. Bastards ambushed us.”
“Dammit, Declan,” she murmured. “You could have been killed.”
He put down the icepack and took her hand in his. It was cold from the ice, and all she could think about was that his hand would feel the same if he was dead.
“I’m immortal,” he reminded her. “I was perfectly safe.”
“Immortal doesn’t mean invincible. There are things not even immortals can survive.”
Eidolon hefted the bag over his shoulder. “She’s right,” he said, and she decided she liked this demon doctor. “I’ve seen a lot of immortals become really floofing mortal when their heads are chopped off or their hearts are ripped out of their chests.”
“See?” She gestured to the demon. “You should listen to your doctor.”
“I was perfectly fine,” Declan insisted. “Journey didn’t show up, so obviously I was in no real danger.”
Journey, one of her thousands of brothers, had been appointed as Declan’s guardian angel after she’d been reassigned, and as Dec’s protector, he’d have been alerted if Declan had been in a life-threatening situation.
But that still didn’t make her feel any better. She didn’t like seeing Declan hurt, and the thought of losing him sent her into a cold panic.
“I don’t think you should work for DART anymore.”
Declan laughed, but when she stared at him, his steel gray eyes shot wide. “What, you’re serious?”
“I don’t want to lose you.” She shifted so she was facing him. “Watching what my father is going through with Lilliana is horrible. I know their separation is only temporary, but he aches for her. I don’t want to go through that with you.”
Declan brought her hand to his lips and pressed a tender, reassuring kiss into her palm. “You won’t go through that. I’m careful. And you know this is something I have to do.”
Yes, she did. Declan had a deep, instinctive need to help people, a duty to mankind he couldn’t shake...nor would he want to. But that didn’t mean he had to expose himself to danger on a daily basis.
“You could help mankind in safer ways, you know. You were a medic.” She glanced over at Eidolon. “You could work in a hospital or something.”
The doctor held up his hands. “Hey, don’t look at me. I offered him a job.”
She gaped at Declan. “And you refused?”
Eidolon moved toward the door, his shoes not making a sound even on the floorboards that normally squeaked. “So, I’m just going to go where I’m not in the middle of a married couple’s spat.” He reached for the doorknob. “Dec, I healed most of the damage, but some of the bruising will have to go away on its own. Aspirin should help the residual aches and pains. Call if there are any complications or you have any questions.” He gave a sheepish grin. “And the job offer still stands.”
“Thank you, doctor,” she said. “He’ll think about it.”
“No, he won’t,” Declan called out as Eidolon slipped into the hallway.
Suzanne couldn’t help but smile and shake her head. He was stubborn, but she loved him for it. “You know I’ll keep bugging you to change jobs.”
He tossed the icepack aside and stretched out on the mattress, propping himself up on one elbow. The waistband of his sweats had fallen low on his hips, revealing hard-cut abs and a shadowy hint of skin in the hollow of his pelvis that she suddenly wanted to lave with her tongue.
“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.” His voice was low, husky, and full of erotic undertones.
Damn him, he could distract her so easily, and no doubt he was doing it intentionally. “I know you need to do what you love,” she sighed, “but I still worry about you.”
He waggled his blond brows. “I do do what I love.” He patted the mattress next to him, the muscles in his thick arms rippling. “Come here and I’ll do you right now.”
“Just a sec.” Unable to withstand his charm, she hurried to the door and opened it just enough to shout through the crack. “Hey, everyone, thanks for everything, but I’ll take it from here.”
There was a chorus of “see you laters,” and “feel better soons,” and then the front door closed and everything went quiet.
When she turned back around, the X-rated promise swirling in Declan’s eyes made her breath catch. “Don’t move,” he said in a dark, seductive voice. “Just let me look at you.”
“Wanna see more of me?” she teased as she peeled off her blouse. “I mean, as long as you feel up to it.”
“Oh,” he growled softly, “I’m up to it.”
A glance at the tent in his sweats offered proof of his words, and warmth spread through every one of her erogenous zones. With slow, deliberate motions, she kicked off her heels and unbuttoned her pants, enjoying the way his predatory gaze watched every move she made. When she was left in nothing but her matching teal and black lace panties and bra, she walked over to him, anticipation making her heart pound in an erratic rhythm.
As she approached, he rolled onto his back and made a “come on” gesture with his fingers. “Seeing how I’m injured, I should probably just lay here.”
Smiling seductively, she climbed onto the bed and straddled his thighs, giving him a prime view of her cleavage. “So you want me to do all the work?”
He reached up and cupped a breast through the fabric, and she had to bite back a moan as his thumb flicked over a nipple. “Is it really...work?”
“Mmm.” She arched into his touch. “Not when you do that.”
Suddenly, the hair on the
back of her neck tingled, and light flashed in her peripheral vision.
“Oh, shit!” a male voice shouted. “My eyes! My eyes!”
Declan and Suzanne jumped simultaneously, and she let out a startled yelp as her brother—Declan’s guardian angel—Journey, stood in the middle of the bedroom, his hands plastered over his face.
This was just not her day.
* * * *
Declan shot off the mattress and scrambled to cover Suzanne with the nearest object, which happened to be a pillow.
“Dude!” he shouted as he tugged up his sweatpants. “What the hell? We established rules when I agreed to join this insane family, and not popping into our homes unannounced, especially our bedrooms, is one of them.” He swept Suzanne’s clothes off the floor and tossed them to her. “I know you’re ancient as floof, but we have these things called phones now.”
“And doorbells,” Suzanne chimed in as she shoved her feet into her pants.
“Yeah...” Journey rubbed the back of his neck, gaze cast downward, his dark, shaggy hair concealing his expression. “Trust me, I’m more traumatized than you are. Ugh. It’s like that time someone sent me a link and I was dumb enough to click on it. It was floofing sock puppet porn.” He shuddered. “Did you know that existed? There’s not enough eye bleach in the world.”
Hopped up on adrenaline and unquenched lust, Declan barely kept his patience in check. “Why. Are. You. Here.”
Journey, who seemed to avoid being serious at all costs, grew quiet, his expression grim. Which tripped Declan’s oh, shit alarm. “It’s Azagoth.”
Suzanne shimmied into her top. “What’s our father done now?”
“He’s closed Sheoul-gra. No one can get in or out. Not even griminions.”
Declan had never been to the Grim Reaper’s realm, which was a holding tank for the souls of demons and evil humans, but closing it sounded like it might be a big deal.
“What?” Suzanne froze as she reached for her shoes. “That’s...that’s unprecedented. And bad. Really bad.”
“Griminions,” Declan mused. “They’re your father’s creepy little soul-collectors, right?”
Suzanne nodded. “They gather thousands of souls a day. If the griminions aren’t able to deliver the souls to Sheoul-gra, they’ll be loose, free to cause chaos in the demon and human realms.” She pivoted back to Journey. “Why did he do it? How do you know about this? Are communications still up?”
Journey toyed with the plug in his earlobe. “Comms are shut down too. He warned us seconds before he did it. I got out to let everyone know what was going on.”
“But why? Why did he do it? Does it have something to do with Lilliana?”
“I don’t know,” Journey said, “but our father is in a rage like I’ve never seen before—and I’ve seen him rage-morph into a dragon-demon and literally explode like a bomb. We need to do something, and we need to do it fast.”
Declan swiped his cell phone off the end table. “I can call DART. Maybe they’ll have some insight into what’s going on.”
“I have a better idea,” Suzanne said. “There’s only one person who can deal with Azagoth when he’s on a Reaper rampage.”
Journey cocked a pierced eyebrow. “You mean Lilliana? Good luck. I tried to see her a couple of weeks back. Apparently, she wasn’t ‘feeling well.’”
Declan remembered Suzanne saying the same thing when she’d tried to visit her stepmother recently. Whatever was going on between Azagoth and Lilliana was very, very private.
“Well,” Suzanne said, her brown eyes sparking with the stubborn fire Declan loved—when it wasn’t aimed at him—”I happen to know the very thing that will make her feel better.”
“Lemme guess,” Journey said. “Food?”
She patted his cheek as she brushed past him on her way to the door. “See, that’s why everyone says you’re the smart brother.”
Journey beamed. “They do?”
Declan rolled his eyes and gave his brother-in-law a comforting clap on the back. “Sure, man. Sure.”
Dec joined Suzanne, laughing as Journey called out after them, “You two are assholes, you know that?”
As if Declan hadn’t heard that before. Silly angel.
Suzanne grabbed the tote bag she’d left in the living room. “I’m going to whip up something to take to Cara. Do you want to go with me or stay here?”
He took her hand so she could flash him with her. “I’m with you, sweetheart. Always.”
Her smile was blinding, and it almost made up for the fact that her idiot brother had interrupted what he was sure would have been a marathon session between the sheets.
But that was the thing about being immortal; if one didn’t get his or her head chopped off, eternity was made of marathons.
* * * *
Suzanne spent a couple of hours preparing her favorite comfort food, Mac and Cheese Bites, for Lilliana, as well as a few snack samples for Cara’s baby shower, and then she and Declan flashed to Ares’s Greek island. They materialized inside the designated landing spot among the olive trees near the massive mansion just as the sun was setting, its golden rays glinting off the white sand and the sea beyond the beach.
The secret island, hidden from human eyes thanks to some sort of magic, was a paradise no one could access without permission, which she’d secured with a quick call to Cara.
Cara, wearing an elegant aqua maternity gown with matching sandals, met them at the front door. Suzanne had only met the very pregnant hellhound whisperer once when she’d come to help plan Cara’s baby shower menu, but Cara greeted her like an old friend.
“It’s so good to see you again,” Cara said as she engulfed Suzanne in a hug. “But I’m afraid you came for nothing. Lilliana isn’t feeling well and doesn’t want to see anyone.”
“It’s really important. Did you tell her that?”
“I did.”
Suzanne cursed softly, and Declan laughed. He didn’t consider “crap” to be a curse word.
“Will you please try again? It’s about Azagoth. It’s rather urgent.” She handed Cara the container of food samples. “These are some of the dishes we discussed the other day. I figured that since I was going to be here, I might as well bring them for you to try.”
“How thoughtful.” Cara smiled as she gave the container a sniff. “Come on in. I’ll give it another shot with Lilliana, but don’t get your hopes up.”
Declan and Suzanne entered the palatial estate, their shoes clicking on the marble floor. Cara left them in the main living room, where Declan went taut at the sight of the huge man-goat demons clomping around, one with a dust mop and another with a tray of iced tea.
“It’s okay,” she whispered to Declan. “They’re servants, totally loyal to Ares and Cara.”
“This is so floofed up.” He gave her a pointed look. “See, that’s how you curse. With conviction and crassness.” He sucked in a harsh breath as a hellhound as tall as a draft horse and twice as long padded across the room, its crimson eyes measuring them for meals before it disappeared down a hallway. “I’m never going to get used to this,” he muttered, adding another crass curse with conviction.
He kept cursing as they wandered around admiring the ancient Greek and Roman artifacts Ares had collected over the eons until Cara returned a couple of minutes later.
“I’m shocked,” she said, “but Lilliana gave permission. Her suite is down the corridor and to the right. It’s the double doors at the end of the hall.”
Remaining box of food in hand, Suzanne and Declan hurried to Lilliana’s suite. She tapped on the door and heard a shouted, “Come in! I’m on the balcony.”
They entered into a luxurious room decorated with Greek art and furniture. Black and gold pottery dotted the shelves, and a life-sized marble horse took up a corner near the dining set that could comfortably seat twelve.
“Wow.” Declan’s eyes shot wide. “And I thought our place in New York was big.”
“The Horsemen are larg
er than life,” she said. “And they do everything to scale.”
They walked past the kitchen and saw Lilliana through the open sliding glass doors, her back to them as she stood at the balcony railing overlooking the sea. Her long chestnut hair was loose and blowing around her shoulders, which were bare except for the delicate straps on her gauzy orange top. White harem pants and bare feet completed the outfit that seemed perfect for hanging out in a Greek paradise.
But was it really paradise when you weren’t with your loved one? When you were standing by yourself on a balcony made for romance?
Suzanne hadn’t seen her stepmom, an angel of a different Order who had originally been sent to Azagoth as Heaven’s version of a mail-order bride, in months, not since she’d left Azagoth. Suzanne didn’t know exactly why she’d left, but she’d bet her wings that it was her father’s fault. She loved him, but the Grim Reaper could be a serious jerk.
“Thanks for seeing us,” she began. “I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well.”
“I’m feeling fine,” Lilliana said, still facing the water.
“Then why—” She broke off as the other woman turned around, revealing a very swollen, very pregnant belly. Holy shit. “Oh. Oh...wow.”
Lilliana smiled and rubbed her baby bump. “No one knows except Ares, Cara, Reaver, and Harvester, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“But my father knows.” Please, please say he knows. “Right?”
Lilliana shook her head and Suzanne’s gut dropped to her feet. Lilliana must have a good reason for keeping this huge secret, but...Azagoth didn’t have a reputation of being very forgiving when he felt he was wronged. He was going to flip out. A lot.
“You said you’re here because of Azagoth?” Lilliana took a sip of the orange juice balanced on the railing next to her, and Suzanne swore she saw Lilliana’s hand shake.
“Yes. He just shut down Sheoul-gra. No one can get in or out. We were hoping you might know why.”
Lilliana blew out a relieved breath and sagged against the deck railing, nearly spilling her juice. “So it’s not just me.”
