Her Fallen Protector

by Nichole Severn

  “No!” He’d failed her again.

  Disheveled and armed, Sorren, the Father’s most trusted general, assessed the scene like the warrior Jacob had once been, and then attacked.

  His sword, broad and strong, swung at Jacob’s neck. He dodged it. Unable to draw his own sword or mace, he spun, catching the sword by the blade with one hand and the angel’s throat with the other. He forced Sorren back against the wall. “What have you done?”

  “You’ll pay for your deceit, brother. Neutral or not,” Sorren said between clenched teeth. “Duemos can’t live again. I swore to it. You swore to it.”

  Another kick to the torso made him release the angel. Without armor, the hit pushed him into the center of the bedroom, but Sorren didn’t move to strike a second time. His attention centered on the woman writhing on the floor.

  Her body shook uncontrollably. The movements pulled small gasps from her lips as the demon blood slowly mingled with hers. Her back bowed off the floor, like an instrument strung too tight, and his insides twisted. Her face went dead white, eyes rolling up into her lids.

  He lowered himself beside her, took one of her hands in his. Strong fingers grasped his shirt as Damien and Sorren watched from above. The scream working its way up his throat nearly overwhelmed his control. He’d die a thousand times to take away her pain.

  A shriek tore through the air.

  As if a knife had been plunged into his gut, agony erupted in the center of Jacob’s chest. Nothing in the world could save him from remembering the sound the rest of his days.

  “The world will not survive with her resurrection.” A glimmer of light preceded the broadsword’s arc high over Sorren’s head. “For the good of humanity, I cannot let her live.”

  “No!” He covered her body with his, focused on her. He’d memorize everything he could about her in the span of a few milliseconds. No matter where he ended up in the Afterlife, he’d take a piece of her with him. He’d never forget her.

  A solid thud pulled his attention over his shoulder.

  The fiend at his side had slammed Sorren back into the hallway. The brutal struggle for domination left Jacob free to focus solely on her. Body wracked with seizures, she reached for him, lacing her fingers through his. Heat bled down into his muscles, blistering his hand wherever her skin made contact with his, but he refused to let her go. He’d done this to her. He was helpless. Lost. He hadn’t protected her and now he’d lose her forever.

  “Israel.”

  His true name barely left her lips, but his heart skipped a beat. She recognized him. Pieces of his earlier hallucination bled through her pained exterior and, mesmerized, he couldn’t look away.

  She’d come back to him.

  …

  The scent of mildew invaded her nostrils, stronger than before.

  Blinding light forced her to keep her eyelids closed as Vdarra pushed her upper body off the floor. The carpet scraped against her skin painfully. Her body tingled with awareness, so much so that her stomach revolted with sensory overload. She’d never felt anything like it. Taking a slow inhale, she grimaced as every movement hurt. What had Damien given her?

  Her head ached. Blackness threatened to take her under again, but the pain didn’t override her senses enough to ignore the fact Sorren had come back from the dead. Her mouth went dry, her tongue swollen. She’d watched him die, counted every bullet hole in his body before Isabel had kidnapped her. But he’d been here. She hadn’t dreamed it, had she?

  She peeled one eye open. The light sheared through her overly sensitive retinas and she closed them again. Only Heaven could be so bright. Perhaps she’d died from the venom forced into her veins, and Sorren had been her welcome mat. She tried the other eye, the light not so bright after all. She expelled a long, tired breath as the bedroom, her cell, came into focus.

  Along with Jacob’s electric eyes.

  The ache vanished as she relaxed into that gaze, although her brain still felt foggy. Bits and pieces of memory of Damien pouring something onto her wrist fit together like a broken puzzle. Anything after that? Nothing. Except Jacob. He’d stayed by her side, held her hand, wished the pain away with panic in his expression.

  He’d tried to save her. But couldn’t.

  “What happened?”

  “You passed the test.” Exhaustion, combined with something she could only describe as silent pain, gave a rough tint in his voice. It clenched her insides. How much of the drug had they shot him with for trying to save her?

  The zip tie around her hand had been cut. As had his. Were they free to leave? She hadn’t given up a location for the Seal, or whatever Damien and Isabel were after. Which meant their captors didn’t see her and Jacob as a threat. Physically. “Why do I get the feeling that’s not a good thing?”

  “Well, it looks like your pet angel avoided death this time.” Isabel darkened the doorway. “Escaped before I could neutralize him, probably to run back to his master like the loyal servant he’s always been. Next time, he won’t be so lucky.”

  The venom focused on her best friend—or who she’d thought had been her best friend—crawled over her skin like ants. And what did Isabel mean by angel? Sorren had never been innocent in her book. Especially as her security on rough repo jobs. “You know each other?”

  “Better than most.” Isabel strutted closer in her four-inch heels and bent down over her. “Unlike my master, I don’t think you’re her. You’re just a mortal pretending—desperately—to be important in someone’s life, and even though you’ve passed the first test, you’re going to die alone.”

  A hand wrapped around her throat. Vdarra didn’t move in time. Her head slammed back into the wall behind her, forced her eyelids closed. When she reopened them, Isabel crouched mere inches away. An abrupt shot of adrenaline made her wince, but the lunatic above her only laughed. Nothing Isabel said made sense. She searched for Jacob.

  “Don’t bother. After his asinine attempt to stop the test, I pumped him with double the dosage. He won’t be able to move for a long time, if ever.” Isabel’s lips pulled back like a rabid dog’s. “Now, you’re going to tell me you’re not her, that we’ve been wasting our time with you, and you want me to end your pathetic suffering. I’ve worked too damn hard for this and I won’t let you steal him from me.”

  Him? The fingers gripping her throat wouldn’t let her speak. Lack of oxygen only intensified the ache, but even a caged animal could fight back. No. She wouldn’t die at the hand of this skinny bitch. Wrapping both hands around Isabel’s wrist, she pried her attacker off her throat. In reality, it shouldn’t have been hard. She was easily a half a foot taller and slightly more muscular, but hidden strength fought against her.

  The burning under her skin simmered, not as strong. Able to take her first breath in over thirty seconds, she inhaled greedily. The tepid air of the bedroom became a prize, a reward.

  “No.” Isabel pushed back harder. Pale-gray eyes snapped in challenge. Long, thin fingertips morphed into talons, extending toward her throat. “He’s mine. You can’t have him.”

  This wasn’t real. Nobody had talons for fingers, but she had little doubt as to Isabel’s intention. Couldn’t think about the how, only the end result. Adrenaline jolted her alive. Her body tingled, the same sense she experienced around Jacob. Revitalizing. Strong. She fought with every sinew that had strength left and shoved Isabel hard.

  Her captor slammed into the wall beside the door. The drywall cracked around her, all lines leading to the epicenter.

  The temperature skyrocketed, thickened the air. Standing with only a fragment of energy left, she met Isabel’s gray eyes, now tinted with specks of red and black. Just another hallucination. Eyes didn’t change color like that. Whatever Damien had given her hadn’t left her system yet. “Touch me again and I will rip that bony little spine right out of your back.”

  The hiss from Isabel’s lips sent a chill down her back. She shook from head to toe, her eyes narrow, nose crinkled. The petite blond
e lunged, black claws catching the light from the bare bulb overhead.

  Vdarra locked her knees and fisted her fingers.

  Strong hands wrapped around Isabel’s waist. With one jerk, Jacob swung Vdarra’s attacker against the opposite wall, and she crumpled to the floor.

  Anxiety drained from her muscles as he took position in front of her, protected her. She took in the wide expanse of his shoulders, the strained tendons in his jaw and neck. Warmth surged throughout her body, but it intensified the foreign energy in her veins. Nobody had ever stood up for her like that. The little strength she used to keep herself upright slowly trickled away in the sweat beading on her neck and forehead. He held his position, ready for another attack. An atmosphere of danger resonated from his muscular shoulders as they expanded with each inhale. How long could he hold her off? Long enough for an escape?

  “Impossible.” Elongated incisors freed themselves from Isabel’s human teeth. “I drugged you myself.”

  Vdarra closed her eyes tight and scrubbed her hands over her face. Not real. Not real. What the hell had Damien drugged her with?

  “There’s a lot you have yet to learn, fiend.” He curled his hands into fists.

  “He can’t protect you forever,” Isabel said. “Every second you’re with him he becomes weaker. Even if the drug stopped working, it doesn’t look like I’ll have to wait long.” A lopsided smile pulled at her lips. “See you soon.”

  Hot tendrils of flame exploded from the floor and consumed their captor. Within two breaths, Isabel had vanished.

  Impossible.

  “Get me out of here. Please.” She swallowed back the sour taste coating her tongue. Bile burned its way up her throat. Adrenaline left her body in a rush, and she trembled hard enough she bet the National Geological Society could register her on the Richter scale. And just like the earth, she caved into the tremors. She crumbled on the spot, but the same strong hands that had protected her caught her as her legs gave out.

  …

  She’d survived.

  A stab of need gutted his insides as her skin connected with his. The familiar hum of raw power pressed against his senses, excited his own energy in return. Jacob hauled her fully into his arms and held her close as she trembled and wheezed for air. Her hand pressed against her chest, drawing his attention to the delicate skin of her collarbone. Her eyes had become distant, wet with unshed tears, but the black dots interrupting their perfect color froze the breath in his lungs. It had worked.

  “What’s happening to me?”

  “Vdarra, listen to me. We’re getting out of here, but you’re going to pass out if you don’t calm down.” Or worse, she’d accidentally release the power now coursing through her, a power not even he understood. He cradled her against his chest and maneuvered through the bedroom door. No sign of Damien or Isabel. Yet. The heightened senses he’d been gifted had died off significantly since the last injection. Either the fiends had found a way to accelerate his mortality or he’d miscalculated the time he had left as an immortal. Dammit. How could he protect her against her father if he couldn’t even defend himself?

  The hallway passed in a blur. Get her safe. Figure out the next move. He stared down into the ashen face he’d fallen in love with centuries ago. “You need to slow your heart beat. Learn to use the power. Make it work for you.”

  “What pow—” A cough choked off the words.

  Focus. She’d withstood a full-fledged demon attack on her own. He couldn’t fault her system for going into shock. They made it to the apartment’s front door.

  “Look at me.” He sank to the floor and cupped her jaw with a free hand. Heated sensation ran down his arm and directly into his chest. She couldn’t get control over the energy running rampant through her body and soon it would tear her apart from the inside.

  Her pupils expanded as her gaze connected with his.

  “Breathe in.” He took a deep breath, and she inhaled with him.

  “Breathe out.” He moved his hand from her jaw to her sternum and closed his eyes, willed her heart to slow. This close, memories of the bliss they’d shared together in Rio threatened his control. She wasn’t Duemos, yet the connection between them overrode the fact.

  He’d been given a second chance.

  And he wouldn’t lose her.

  She exhaled under his direction.

  “Again.”

  Her pulse throbbed against the pads of his fingertips. Until their night in Rio, it’d been an eternity since he’d allowed himself to be so close to a woman. He’d missed it. Craved it. Correction. Craved her. He opened his eyes at her silence. Despite the small pinpoints of darkness, her eyes lacked fear or judgment. They caressed his soul. Her ancient, immortal gaze squeezed his chest tighter. The world faded, the threats, his anxiety, everything vanished. Only Vdarra existed.

  Her expression resurrected memories best left forgotten, but those memories had been key in his decision to fall. She’d promised they’d be together again, though he couldn’t imagine she’d meant like this, not with them on opposite sides of the Afterlife once again. He slid his fingers across her cheek. Smooth, creamy skin, but it already felt different. The transformation had begun.

  Pain knifed through him, left him breathless, and he dropped his hand. She’d passed the first test. Her blood had melded with her father’s, giving her power and a resident evil. With such power, her mind would be lost once the transformation was complete, and under the Deceiver’s rule, she’d destroy the world.

  Unless he could remind her why she’d defected in the first place. “What do you say to us getting out of here?”

  A weak smile pulled at her lips. “I think that’s a great idea.”

  “I know just the place.”

  Chapter Seven

  They rounded down onto the building’s bottom level and shoved out the double glass doors. Fresh air dove deep into her lungs. God, she’d missed that. “Where are we going?”

  “My apartment.”

  Was he serious? “Are you sure that’s safe? They know where you live. Isabel said she searched your apartment, that someone had broken into it.”

  “Isabel says a lot of things.” A smile defined the shallow laugh lines etching along his mouth. He stretched his hand toward her. Gave her a choice. “I can protect you there better than anywhere else.”

  She couldn’t go home and God only knew what waited for her upstairs if she stuck around. She slipped her fingers over his palm and wrapped them around the back of his hand.

  No doubt he’d protect her, but anything more would stay off limits. “I believe you. Just get me the hell out of here.”

  His grip tightened.

  A tendril of wind brushed up her arm. They were exposed on an empty sidewalk, surrounded by brown brick, rusted metal, and fogged windows. Damien and Isabel would come back. Maybe they even hid in one of the adjacent apartments. Watching. Waiting to follow them back to Jacob’s safe haven. “How far is your apartment from here?”

  “Not far. We need to get moving.” A single tug on her arm propelled her to his side. “They’ll be back.”

  Her bare feet slapped against the cement in an otherwise silent neighborhood as they walked quickly down the street. Odd for this time of day. No children playing. No residents coming or going. Like they’d up and left everything behind. “Where is everyone?”

  “Keep walking. If anything happens before we get to my place, just run. Leave me behind if you have to.”

  Her attention shot to his face. “What?”

  He picked up their pace, kept hold of her hand. “Someone’s following us.”

  “Isabel?” She fought to keep up. Small rocks jutted into her bare feet, but she wouldn’t slow. Not until they’d reached safety.

  “I don’t know. I can’t tell anymore.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Building after building disappeared behind them. Every muscle in her legs burned.

  He yanked her up a set of stone steps and rushed her through th
e single doorway. The wooden door slammed hard behind her, the undeniable click of locks sealing them inside. Too much. Everything had become too much. The kidnapping. The drugs. Jacob. For God’s sake, demons really did exist. The room tilted to one side and she swayed.

  A solid wall of warm flesh caught her before she hit the floor then lowered her to the gleaming hardwood. “Whoa. Take it easy. Just sit down for a second. You’re safe here.”

  Safe from them? Or from him? She inhaled deep, steadied her racing heart. None of it helped tame the heat from his touch as it twisted her insides. She couldn’t think about that. Bright lines of sunlight speared across the dark floor, leading back to a wall of glass. Clean, masculine lines shaped an industrial steel and glass coffee table. Dark treatments hung at the windows as though he’d intended to hide from the world. A set of black leather couches formed an “L” in front of a massive flat screen television. Even the staircase off to her left, covered in dark brown hardwood, screamed all male. All Jacob.

  Still wobbly, she struggled to her feet. Distance would keep her head clear, but the stabilizing hand at the small of her back wouldn’t let up as she moved further from the front door. “You live here?”

  “Well, I try not to make it a habit of barging into other people’s houses.” Always trying to make her laugh, and he succeeded every time. “This is the living room. We’ve got two bedrooms upstairs, a bathroom down here and one upstairs, and the kitchen off to the right. Fridge should be stocked. You’re welcome to anything you need. Food. Bed. Television. Anything.”

  He wanted to include himself in that list. She read it in the twist of one corner of his mouth. Too bad he’d already destroyed the trust he’d garnered in Rio. That damn concern he’d shown her back in their cell, tinted with something along the lines of sympathy, carved deep into his expression. He waited for an answer. What did she need?

  “They did something to me. Damien and Isabel…they’re…they—”

  “They can’t get to you here.”

  “What makes you so sure? You said yourself, someone followed us here.”