by K. Webster
He plucks the panties from my mouth and storms around to the other side of his desk. I attempt to unfold myself from my positon. Fire on my flesh dizzies me, and I have the urge to puke all over his paperwork, which is now covered in my blood. My eyes find his evil—yes, Father Paul is pure evil—stare as he drops my bloody panties into his drawer.
“Now.” He flashes me the grin I once was so easily charmed by. “Let’s get you to the infirmary to check on your nose and the boy you thought was so important that you would interrupt me.”
I finally stand, ignoring the pain slicing through me. My habit falls back into place, scratching my sore butt.
“After you, sister,” he says with a chuckle. “I want to watch you walk.”
And with a shaky step, I wince and curse the very ground the man behind me walks upon.
“There,” Omega growls, snapping me from my memory. “Who were you right there?”
I bring a shaky hand to my cheek to discover I’ve been crying. Stumbling backwards into the bathroom, I search for something to dry my tears with. He stalks inside with me and closes the door behind him. After the soft click of the lock, I turn to look at him.
I see worry.
Compassion.
Warmth.
“Talk to me, Love.”
The tears continue their flood down my cheeks. Truth is, I have no words. How do I even communicate what is swirling so rapidly within me?
“I had a bad memory,” I finally say.
It’s the truth and he can see it. His arm snakes around my waist and he hauls me to him. He smells so good that I almost forget everything for a moment. But when he strokes my back through my habit, I start to sob.
We’ve decided to take on the roles of clergy to visit with Father Owen. I knew that it would be difficult donning the old, familiar clothing, but I didn’t know that it would nearly gut me. Everything feels fresh in my head, and I want to claw it all out of my brain.
“You’re safe now,” Omega says. The way his chest rumbles out his proclamation makes its way into my unusual soul.
I harness his strength and bask in it.
“Who is she?” he asks once my sobs die down.
I don’t want to break away from him or to talk about anything though. I want to be held by him forever and ignore our missions.
“Who?” My eyebrows pinch together as I draw back to regard him.
Being this close to his mouth is an utter disaster. My knees buckle, but he holds on to me.
“Her—the woman inside you. You. I don’t know how to explain it. I just know there is another side of you I want to know. Tell me something, Love. Anything.” One of his hands palms my cheek, his thumb stroking near my lips.
My eyes find his dark ones and I see something different in them. Not anger or hate for what I did to him. Not lust or the need to fuck me against the sink.
No.
I see love and kindness and good.
Damn him for breaking me down!
“Lillian,” I say. “I remember who I was before, and her name—my name—was Lillian.”
His dark eyes dart back and forth, searching mine for answers. I’m giving him the answer. It’s the most I have ever given to anyone.
“She’s here now, isn’t she? Your true self? You aren’t hiding right now, are you?” He dips his face close to mine, and I inhale him.
God, I miss him.
“Yes,” I exhale.
“I fucking knew it,” he growls before he smashes his lips to mine.
The kiss is almost painful, but I am a prisoner of its power. For once, I let it all go and lose myself in Omega. I drop the walls around my heart and allow him access into the deepest part of my soul. His groan pours deep into my mouth as he kisses me to my very essence.
All I can do is desperately clutch his shirt and hold on for the ride. I’m no longer calling the shots or a leading player in this game. No, I’m now caught in the vortex of this powerful man. His strength is all consuming, and I allow myself to get swept up into it.
I moan when his hand slides over my ass and he draws me closer to him, his hardness pressing against me. Fucking Omega was always easy for me. The man is perfect on every level. But now, I want more.
“Love,” he murmurs as he tears away from our kiss. “You’ve never kissed me like that before.”
We’re both panting, and it takes all of my effort not to throw my arms around his neck and lose myself in another kiss.
“Trust goes both ways, Omega. I’ve never given anyone what I just gave you.”
He scowls as he watches my lips move. “And you never will again. Only me.”
His claim, though very alpha in nature, warms my heart. For someone who just yesterday hated the Earth I walked on, he seems very keen on protecting me.
I want to be protected and cared for by Omega.
He runs a thumb over my lips, and I kiss it. His thumb is barely gone before it is once again replaced by his lips. I give in to the all-consuming power of it and wish there were a way to pause this wretched life for eternity.
I want him to love me.
The thought chills me. I’m becoming distracted. Losing focus of the bigger plan. I knew letting myself get close to him would cause this to happen.
I have to get a fucking grip or all of this—fucking Luc—would all be in vain. Too much depends on my clarity of mind. As quickly as I let it fall, I resurrect the fortress around my heart once more.
Brick by brick, I push him out and myself away from her.
There is no place in this world for two confused Leviathans who crave the love of each other. Love doesn’t belong in hell, and I’m not talking about the dark, sexy one with plump, red lips. The emotion. It’s nonexistent and foreign in the barren, sinful lands Luc reigns over.
Yet demons don’t belong in heaven either. HEA Corp doesn’t allow our kind there. If it were my wish, I’d leave it all behind and hide on Earth amongst the unknowing souls. I want to live at liberty with them—with someone to love—and have no ultimate agendas hanging over my head.
I want to be free.
As the last brick locks into place, I sigh in resignation.
It’s as if Omega knows, because he jerks away from our kiss and glares at me.
“What did you do with her? You can’t keep her fucking locked away!” he snarls.
I raise an eyebrow at him and smirk. “She can’t do a quarter of the things I can do with this tongue. Don’t you remember, Omega? The way I used to own you with my tongue?”
Bile rises in my throat at turning on him so suddenly, but I can’t lose sight of the plan.
His lust-filled eyes fall to my lips. He remembers.
I saunter toward him and grip is massive, stone-hard cock through his pants. “Your dick remembers.”
“YOUR DICK REMEMBERS.”
That’s the damn truth. My cock aches to shove her habit—which, by the way, makes her look so fucking hot—up her thighs and fuck her over the sink. The woman once again has her talons in my heart, and this time, I won’t survive in the end. She nearly killed me last time. This time, which is inevitable, I will die with her as the last thought on my mind.
I glower at her. Those pink lips, free of whorish makeup to look the part of a nun, beg to be sucked and bitten. She pouts them out for further effect and my cock twitches in her grasp.
After sliding an arm around her back to her ass, I pick her up and haul her over to the sink. She gasps when I drop her on it and attack her neck with my mouth. If she wants to play dirty, I’ll play goddamned dirty.
“W-what are you doing, Omega?” The spicy Leviathan’s voice wobbles and falters.
I suckle her flesh and palm her breast through her clothes. “I know what you’re doing. You’re fucking pushing me away. Protecting something—her—I don’t know what the fuck. But I’m not going to sit by and watch it happen this time. I know there’s something inside you worth fighting for, even if that means dealing with the monster you pretend
to be. Things aren’t over between us, Love. They will never be over.”
The desire to kiss her and fuck her and forget about every fucking thing is overwhelming, but we have a job to do. I just want to shake the foundation upon which she stands for a minute. I want to rattle the hardened woman she is at the moment.
My hand slips between her legs, and I finger her through her habit. I’ve been with the woman long enough to know exactly what makes her lose her mind. She thinks sex is her weapon against everyone? Well, I’ll use her weapons against her.
“Oh-mega!” she cries out once I make the connection.
I find her swollen lips with mine and kiss her hard, almost punishingly. “Yes, Love?” I murmur against her lips as I work her through her clothes.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re no longer in charge, baby. When you’re in charge, you fuck it all up. I’m not letting you fuck us up again,” I growl and intensify my massaging of her clit.
“Mmm, stop,” she whines, her voice shaking with need. “We aren’t an ‘us.’”
I do stop, but she whimpers, so I go back to fingering her. “We are an ‘us.’ Stop trying to fucking pretend, woman. I won’t allow you to say otherwise. Now get the fuck over yourself and admit we are something.”
She furiously shakes her head. “No. We have a job to do.”
When I stop my movement, she tries to force my hand to continue. I nuzzle my nose against hers and look deep into her chocolate eyes. Lust and something else swims in them. Uncertainty. That is what I latch on to and then use the lust to my advantage.
“I want to make you come, baby,” I coo as I begin stroking her again.
She throws her head back and bares her neck at me. “Yes, please.”
“Tell me what I want to hear.”
Once again, she shakes her head, so I stop.
“You’re pure fucking evil,” she grumbles.
I chuckle and tease her with my finger. “Say it. Just fucking say it.”
She leans forward and pins me with sad stare. “Yes, okay? You’re messing everything up, but I can’t deny that I don’t care about any of it when I am around you. I hate the fact that you are clouding my every thought and disturbing my plans. This will end badly, Omega. I did things my way for a reason. And you, with your passion you wear on your sleeve, are about to fuck up something huge. Are you at all prepared to deal with the ramifications of that?”
I mull her words over. So she doesn’t want to remain guarded in my presence but clearly feels as if she must.
Dropping my mouth to hers, I kiss her softly. The woman she hides claws under the surface.
I will save you.
My finger continues its dance, and soon, she shudders with an orgasm. I massage until she becomes too sensitive to take any more. When she comes down from her high, I slip my teasing finger up her body and around the back of her neck. With a little tug, I pull at her hair so that she looks up at me.
“Baby, drop the fucking act. Every time you try to push me away, I am going to crawl into wherever it is you go and yank your ass out of there. No more running. No more hiding. You’re mine, Love, and I’m willing to battle for your heart.”
Tears well in her eyes, showing me that I have won. I place a tender kiss to her trembling mouth. The kiss is short but full of promise. My vows are thick and binding as they work their way through to her. Eventually, she nods her understanding.
“Omega, this is going to be hard. You have no idea. I’ll do my best to not shut you out, especially when we’re alone. However, we still have a major job to do. Promise me that, when we leave the confines of our privacy, you’ll trust me always. No matter how awful or insane things get. I need you to trust me if we have any hope for surviving.”
Her fear is palpable and so real that I could almost grab it and strangle it to death. As long as I have anything to do with it, she’ll be safe. I will protect her until my dying breath. The hate I had for her yesterday was just a bandage for my bleeding heart. I had held on to the belief that I hated her.
But I didn’t.
I loved her so much that it made me crazy.
Now that I see there is more than meets the eye with Love, I only want to love her more.
“I never hated you,” I blurt out before seizing her lips with mine again.
Her moan is far from sexual—it’s one of relief. I stroke her, comfort her, and kiss her in the small bathroom. She’s letting me in, crack by crack.
“I never stopped loving you,” she murmurs in reply.
Truth.
Motherfucking truth.
“We’ll figure this out, baby. I promise.”
She nods. Her belief in me is heart stopping. I will prove to her that I will make it all okay.
I finally pull away from her and give her a lopsided grin. “Ready to go pretend to fuck shit up, Love?”
The beautiful woman morphs before my eyes from something innocent and vulnerable to the feisty vixen I first fell for. “Is that even a question? Let’s go have fun, O.”
“And this is the west wing. Over here is where the nuns stay,” Father Owen says with a grin.
Father Owen is an old man with a kind smile. His eyes are crinkled around the edges, and it’s clear he laughs a lot. I like him instantly and have the urge to protect him.
I will protect him.
His Seraph Guardian, Bosefus, is behind him, glaring at us—me in particular. He knows we aren’t supposed to be here and can see right through our façade—the one where we told Father Owen we are from St. Peter’s Church from San Francisco. We mentioned our desire to grow our small church and visit a few other churches to get a feel for how others are doing it.
“Why are you here?” Bosefus snarls.
Of course, Father Owen can’t hear him. The SG are invisible to the humans and the ones they protect. However, the Leviathans can see them plain as day.
When Father Owen shows Lovenia the stained glass on one of the windows that’s been around since the 1800s, I turn my attention to Bosefus. The guardian angel is massive, towering several inches over my tall frame. His giant, feathered wings are spread out behind him, making him seem even larger. A hint of remorse rushes through me because I almost had those wings at one time.
“Working,” I mouth back.
His jaw clenches, and rage ripples from him at my presence. I would be furious too if I were him. This isn’t how things work.
“Leave,” he snaps.
Ignoring him, I glance over at Lovenia as she admires the glass. Her skin takes on a pink hue as the sun shines on her skin. In her habit, her face free of makeup, talking to the priest, she seems every bit a vision from heaven.
Normally, Love would be swaying those sexy hips and turning the heat up around men. However, with Father Owen, she appears to be using a different tactic to mess with him. One I haven’t quite figured out yet. My problem is the big, winged mammoth who is glaring at me.
“No.” Even though no sound comes out, I mouth the word very clearly to him.
His hand, with superhuman quickness, seizes my bicep.
I learned about this when I was in training to be a Seraph Guardian. They have abilities—the ability to see your desires, motives, and integrity or lack thereof.
That’s the last thought before he dives deep into my soul without my permission.
“He’s just a boy,” Connor pleads with tears in his eyes.
I glare at my best friend. “A boy who is planning on blowing your ass up!”
The small child with a mop of dirty, dark hair peeks out from behind Connor. He can’t be any more than six years of age.
We’ve been stationed here in Afghanistan for too fucking long. Every single one of us soldiers is tired as hell and ready to go home. Connor and I have managed to stay alive this long, and I won’t let some goddamned terrorist boy with a backpack full of explosions ready to detonate take us out. It’s not happening on my watch.
“Connor,” I growl. �
�Step away from him.” I raise my M16 and point it at the child.
The small boy pleads with me in his native tongue. I don’t doubt his innocence. However, I doubt the innocence of the ones who shouldered him with the heavy backpack and sent him our way.
“Drew, please, don’t hurt him.”
I drop my gun toward the dirt and run a frustrated hand over my scruffy jaw. Connor was always too soft to be a marine. The moment I met the man in boot camp, I knew, deep down, that I was supposed to always look out for him. I needed to be tough enough to protect both of us. Now, I will use his heart against him.
“What about Lark? And the baby?”
He grimaces at the mention of them, his resolve weakening—so I pounce.
“Do you think Lark would want you risking your life for some killer kid? I can’t let anything happen to you. She fucking made me promise, Connor.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. I’ve dealt a low blow, but I’ll do anything to get him to step away from the kid who was headed right for our camp with a backpack full of explosives.
“Do this for her,” I urge.
His hand is still behind him, holding the boy safely in place. Connor and his fucking weakness for children!
“Mota'assefam,” the boy squeaks out. Sorry. Tears are swimming in his eyes, weakening my heart. The child doesn’t want to be here—some fucking psychotic idiot made him do this for his own personal gain.
I make a decision that could cost us our lives.
“Listen. I’m going to remove the backpack and get rid of it. You snatch the boy and we’re going to haul ass back to camp,” I huff out in resignation.
Connor’s rigid frame relaxes. I turn my attention to the boy, and when I motion that I am going to take his backpack off, he nods emphatically.
Poor fucking kid.
“On my count of three, I want you running your ass off,” I order to my best friend.
He nods and regards the child. After stalking over to them, I clutch the straps of the backpack.
“One. Two.” I lock eyes with Connor, and he nods. “Three.”
Time becomes molasses as I pull the bag from the boy’s back and Connor scoops him into his arms. As he runs away, I carefully place the bag on the dirt and then haul ass after them. We barely make it twenty feet toward camp when shots ring out all around us.
