Black Ops Fae (A Spy Among the Fallen Book 2)

by C. N. Crawford

  Bastard was holding all the damn cards. “Hazel will never come with us if we can’t tell her where we’re going.”

  A cruel smile. “And what makes you think I have a use for your sister?”

  My fingers tightened into fists. “I’m not leaving without her. You need me, and I’m not going without her.”

  “You do realize I can compel you to act. The fun I could have with a beauty like you.” His sensual voice promised excruciating temptation.

  I sucked in a sharp breath. “But you never have compelled me. How do I know you’re not bluffing?”

  Adonis’s eyes flashed with a pale light, and I felt his magic ripple over my skin in a dangerous caress. The hair rose on the back of my neck, and an invasive power crawled through my blood, wrapping itself around my bones like a vine. Against my will, I felt my arm rise, my fingers reaching out for Adonis’s face.

  I couldn’t control my voice anymore, but if I could, I’d be screaming at him. His intoxicating magic gripped me against my will. He had complete control over my body. I stared, entranced, as my fingertips stroked down his smooth cheek. He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply.

  As soon as the magic loosened its grip on my body, I yanked my hand from his cheek. Snatching my wineglass from the table, I flung the contents in his face.

  “Don’t ever do that again,” I snarled.

  He leaned back in his chair, wine dripping from his skin in red rivulets. That infuriating, amused smile curled his lips as he dabbed the wine from his cheeks. “You did ask for a demonstration.”

  Once again, he had a point, but that didn’t negate the primal outrage I felt at being controlled by an outside force. I tried to still the shaking in my body. I had nothing to threaten him with, no power of my own to stop him. Just my own impotent fury. “Promise me one thing. If you rule the celestial realm, will you be able to stay the fuck away from our world? Because angels like you don’t belong here. This is our world. The demons, the fae, the humans. And we want it back.”

  Adonis seemed completely unperturbed. Bored, even. He held my gaze for a long moment, shadows pooling in the air around him. “Johnny could wake at any moment, and when he does, you’ll be faced with not one, but two angels you’ve betrayed. I’m your only way out of here.”

  True. I refilled my glass, not answering him.

  “Here’s what you need to know for now,” he continued. “We’re going to my castle first. I have some informants there who can tell us about our next move. But if you think I’m going to tell you where to find that, you may as well dig yourself a shallow grave next to Johnny’s.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You have your own castle?”

  “Where do you think I’ve been living all these years?” He rose from his chair, his pale gaze sweeping over me. “Get your things ready to leave quickly. Whether you like it or not, it’s me and you against the world.”

  I shuddered, and his footsteps echoed off the high ceiling as he stalked out of the room.

  Screwed. Adonis had all the power here, and I was truly and completely screwed.

  Unless, of course, I could steal that book from his room and learn a few things of my own.

  I lurked outside Adonis’s door, my ear pressed to the wood. I heard nothing inside his room. I sniffed the air—I couldn’t smell his exotic scent, either.

  Darkness had fallen outside, and only a few guttering candles lit the hallway. My pulse raced as I thought of sneaking around inside his room without his permission. What would he do to me if he found me?

  I grabbed one of the candles from the sconces. Best if I got in and out of there fast, before I had the chance to find out.

  Slowly, I turned the doorknob, opening the door into darkness.

  I loosed a sigh of relief when I found the room empty. With a slow, careful movement, I shut the door behind me. Adonis had closed his curtains, and shadows seemed to climb the walls. I glanced at Adonis’s bed, wondering for just a moment if he ever entertained women there, what it would be like to give in to his seductive power…

  None of my business.

  I crossed to the bookshelf, and a spark of hope lit in my chest when I spied the thin, black volume, Bringer of Light etched on the spine.

  I pulled it from the shelf, holding the candle above it. I opened it with one hand, turning to the first page—a hand-drawn picture of light beaming from a tree branch.

  That was when I felt something else in the room—a seductive, exotic presence that whispered over my skin. I froze at the sensation of breath warming the back of my neck, fingertips skimming my hips.

  “Ruby, my darling,” Adonis purred in my ear. “Did you think you could steal from the Dark Lord?” His voice was a dangerous caress.

  Goose bumps rose on my skin. Of course he caught me. But how did he sneak up on me so quietly? My pulse raced, breath speeding up at the feel of his body’s warmth behind mine.

  I snapped the book shut, speaking to him over my shoulder, my heart pattering like a frightened animal. “I just wanted a little more information. Since you won’t just tell me things.”

  “No one steals from me. But I suppose I have to let you live.” His fingertips skimmed my hips again, a subtle promise of tormenting pleasure. “I can think of one way you can make it up to me.”

  Heat swooped through my belly. I pivoted, shoving the book at him. “You can keep your book. I’ll find out the truth, one way or another.”

  Adonis plucked the book from my fingertips. “Honestly, this one doesn’t contain anything useful anyway. You need to know Phoenician and cuneiform for that.”

  “Whatever.” I stalked out of the room.

  A part of me wanted to give in to the torturous pleasure he promised, but I’d never submit to the seductive allure of a monstrous angel of death.

  Chapter 5

  A howling noise woke me from my sleep—something inhuman that chilled me to my marrow.

  I glanced quickly at Hazel, who snored gently by my side.

  But that ragged keening kept winding through the air, piercing ice in my blood. I pushed off my blankets and crossed to the window. I pressed my hands against the cold panes, jumping as a sentinel drifted past, dark eyes wide, soaking in everything.

  Even as a creature rent the night air with its cries, the sentinels were watching me. The only creatures the sentinels didn’t watch were the angels.

  I swallowed hard. Johnny couldn’t have risen already, could he? It had only been a few days. Granted, I had no idea how long poisoned angels stayed unconscious. It wasn’t like there were reference books for this kind of thing, and if there were, Adonis would probably just yank them from my hands.

  I focused my vision, summoning my keen fae senses to search through the dark for signs of movement in the trees, but I could see nothing outside.

  As I pressed my hands against the glass, a flock of ravens burst from the trees, squawking as they swooped away from the forest. They soared over the castle walls. More birds followed—crows, swallows—desperate and writhing murmurations that fled the dark forest in a chaotic panic.

  Johnny. He was waking. I could feel it like a deep, gnawing hunger between my ribs, an emptiness I could never fill. I’d had the same feeling before, when I’d gotten too close to him on the castle parapet.

  Adonis was right. These angels never belonged on earth.

  A chill rippled over my skin at the sight of gray mist curling from the trees.

  “Hazel,” I said quietly.

  “Mmmm.” She rolled over, pulling the sheets tighter around her shoulders.

  “Hazel,” I said a little louder.

  This time, she sat bolt upright.

  My mouth had gone dry. “I think Johnny is waking already. We have to get out of here.”

  She rubbed her eyes, yawning. “Why?”

  “Because he’s going to tell everyone what I did.” I spoke in a harsh whisper. “He’s going to tell Kratos that I’m a fake, that I’m trying to kill them all.”

 
; Hazel blinked, suddenly becoming more alert. “Oh, right. I thought we had more time.”

  “So did I.”

  Her dark eyes were wide, skin pale, and her forehead furrowed. “Is that him? That terrible howling sound?”

  “I think so. Doesn’t sound happy, does he?”

  In an instant, Hazel was by my side, hands pressed against the glass. Our breaths fogged the window as we stared outside. When a sentinel swooped past, my heart leapt. Would they report us—the two succubi with their faces pressed up against the window—as we waited for the angel to crawl from his shallow grave in the woods?

  That hunger in my gut intensified, and I clutched my stomach. I’d never be full, never satisfied. My soul itself was starving, desperate for life. It was Johnny’s strange magic—ripping through the air like a tornado.

  Kratos made me want to fall to my knees and submit to his power, while Adonis lured me toward either death or seduction—I wasn’t sure which. Johnny, on the other hand, filled me with an agonizing hunger.

  Hazel pressed her palms to the window, and I could have sworn her cheeks looked thinner. “I’m starving,” she said listlessly. “Do you know what it feels like to starve?”

  Dear sister. I’ve fought men over scraps of rat meat.

  “Not really,” I lied. Through the confusion of hunger, I tried to scramble up a plan. Maybe we could pack what clothing we had, grab a few things from the kitchen—some bread, cheese, butter, a bit of meat...

  Hazel’s eyes had taken on a haunted look. “I want to stay where the food is.” She shook her head. “We can’t leave. We’ll starve out there.”

  “Hazel. Our minds are being clouded by Johnny’s magic. We’ll bring food with us.”

  Bread, cheese, the pastries, lamb, venison, fruit… My mouth watered, and a wild hunger tore through me. How could we leave all this behind?

  As we gaped out the window, dusty gray magic swirled from the trees, a sickly light tingeing the fog. And from the mist, a figure emerged—punctuated like a black hole against it. An angel stalked from the forest, his wings ragged, body gaunt and hunched.

  My stomach dropped.

  Definitely Johnny.

  Frantically, I pushed all thoughts of starvation out of my mind, trying to focus. I ran for the wardrobe and yanked open the wooden doors. Unfortunately, these clothes weren’t made for survival—they were made only for strutting around a castle, looking pretty. I had two sets of leather leggings, a sweater, and one jacket, plus a pair of boots. The rest was a useless collection of flimsy dresses.

  Fast as I could, I dressed in the warm clothes. As I scrambled to put them on, I tossed a pair of leggings at Hazel.

  With my sweater and my jacket on, I snatched my poison-tipped knife sheathed in its holster from the wardrobe and tied it around my waist.

  Hazel still stared at the window, her body shaking. Didn’t she realize what was going to happen here? I didn’t even want to think about how they’d execute us. Kratos had tolerated me because he thought I was a succubus. I didn’t think he’d tolerate betrayal. He demanded loyalty—worship, even.

  My mind whirled in a fog of hunger, and I was dimly aware of Hazel babbling on about food—

  Another sharp pang of famine ripped through my stomach, and I doubled over. In the hollows of my mind, images flashed of a woman starving, her ribs protruding through her back. A vulture circled overhead.

  My fingernails were digging into my flesh, and I glanced at Hazel. We have to get out of here. I was ready to wrestle those leggings onto her slender body.

  “Hazel,” I said through gritted teeth. “Get dressed, or I’m going to have to kill you and eat your corpse.”

  “I’m going to the kitchen,” Hazel declared.

  In the next moment, she was rushing for the door.

  I took off after her, our footsteps echoing down the corridor. She slammed through the door to the stairwell.

  We didn’t get very far when Hazel doubled over, clutching her stomach. She leaned against the stairwell wall for support. “It’s killing me.”

  Only one thought could drown out the oppressive hunger, and only one thing terrified me more right now. It was the sound of the heavy footfalls coming up the stairwell.

  “He’s coming,” I whispered. He’d chosen this tower—the Tower of Wrath—the one where I slept. He was coming to kill me.

  I pulled the knife from its sheath and stepped back up the stairwell. “Hazel,” I whispered, grabbing her by the arm. “He’s coming for us.” She only seemed to care about one thing right now, so I’d have to focus on that. “That feeling of hunger that’s ripping you apart—it’s coming from Johnny. We have to get away from him.”

  We’d have to find another way out—another stairwell.

  She nodded listlessly, seeming to listen to me for once.

  Quietly, I pulled her back up the stairwell, backing away from Johnny. Gray magic, tinged with that pale green light, climbed toward us.

  Shaking with hunger and exertion, I backed through the stairwell door—and into a powerful body. Slowly, I turned, looking up into Adonis’s pale eyes. His midnight wings cascaded behind him.

  Bizarrely—I actually felt relieved to see him.

  “Johnny’s coming,” I whispered. My whole body was trembling. Pretty sure I was just a few minutes from passing out.

  Adonis grabbed me by the biceps to steady me. “Johnny’s magic is affecting you. He’s not able to control it right now.”

  He touched my shoulder, and a soothing sensation rippled through my core, assuaging some of the hunger.

  “Can you get us out of here?” I asked.

  Adonis nodded, but the starvation kept intensifying. A tortured scream from Hazel ripped through the quiet castle. I knew what she was feeling—that death hovered over her like a bird of prey.

  Adonis let go of me, then swooped down to scoop up Hazel. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Just as we began to move, the stairwell door slammed open, and Johnny’s giant figure loomed in the doorway.

  Chapter 6

  Dirt covered his face, and streaks of green smudged the side of his mouth, as if he’d been eating moss and grass. His shirt hung ragged and torn over his bony frame, and his blue Mohawk hung limp and dirty over his skull.

  There, in his chest, an open wound gaped through his clothing. Where his heart should’ve been was instead a ravaged, corrupted hole. Right where I’d stabbed him.

  The three of us—Adonis, Hazel, and I—stared at him, waiting to see what he would do.

  Johnny reached for the wound, tracing his fingertips over it. Then, he smeared the blood down the front of his torso. His eyes were locked on me as he moved, wide and staring.

  I clutched my stomach, leaning on Adonis for support. The closer I stayed to Adonis, the more his magic seemed to protect me from Johnny’s, soothing that crippling hunger.

  Johnny pointed a bony, blood-covered finger at me, and his jaw dropped.

  Adonis cleared his throat. “Johnny. Wonderful to see you again. You look well.”

  As if this situation weren’t terrible enough, I felt the presence of a third angel moving closer—this one beaming with gold.

  Kratos strode toward us, his coppery wings radiating light. “Johnny,” he boomed. “I thought I felt your presence. What the hell is going on here?”

  Johnny just kept staring at me, pointing with his bloodied finger.

  Adonis broke the silence. “It seems our favorite drunken angel has returned to us after one of his benders. No idea what happened to him, except that he seems to have had a brush with Devil’s Bane. I’d hazard a guess that he doesn’t remember the full story either. A tankard of vodka or two will do that to you.”

  Kratos narrowed his eyes. “Why are the succubi clinging to you like that?”

  Adonis shrugged. “Johnny’s famine magic is ripping their minds apart right now. Mine helps to soothe their pain.”

  “Johnny,” Kratos said evenly. “Control yourself.”

&nb
sp; Johnny continued to glare at me, hatred burning in his eyes. Yet he wasn’t saying anything, and his silence unnerved me.

  He grunted, rubbing the wound on his chest again. His pale lips opened and closed. Maybe that Devil’s Bane had gone straight to his mind, because he didn’t seem to be firing on all cylinders anymore.

  Without another word, he lunged for me, his eyes shot through with incendiary red. The next thing I knew, his hands were around my throat. I reached for the knife at my thigh—poison-tipped. If I poisoned him in front of Kratos, the jig would be up. Wouldn’t take a genius to figure out who’d been messing around with Devil’s Bane.

  Through the blood roaring in my ears, I could hear my sister screaming my name.

  My heart slammed against my ribs, my lungs burning as Johnny squeezed. Frantic, I lifted the knife—

  Fortunately for me, I didn’t have to make the call about whether or not to stab him, because Adonis was ripping Johnny away from me by his withered, blue mohawk.

  “Subdue yourself,” snarled Adonis, still gripping Johnny by the hair.

  For a moment, Johnny seemed to grow calmer, some of the fire in his eyes dulling, even if his gaze was still locked on me. He took deep, ragged breaths, and a thin stream of drool slid from his lips.

  Slowly, Adonis let go of Johnny’s hair.

  Then, like a wild beast, Johnny howled and whirled on Adonis.

  Midnight feathers scattered into the air, and I watched with horror as Johnny tore a brutal rip in the top of Adonis’s wing. The sound of a wing tearing is something I don’t think I’ll ever forget—the shredding of tendon and bones.

  Adonis roared, and the temperature around us plunged, shadows swallowing up the light. With a feral snarl, Adonis rushed at Johnny. It took only a few moments for Adonis to snap the punk angel’s neck, and the crack of bone echoed off the stone walls.

  Kratos looked down at Johnny’s crumpled, filthy body on the flagstones, his expression betraying nothing. “I’ve come to expect dramatic entrances from Johnny, but this one has surpassed my wildest dreams.”