And Erin.
But not because he feared seeing his ward and seeing the pity in her eyes.
The female’s power began to lower, the weight of it lifting from his shoulders. She was dangerous and he wouldn’t take her to Veiron for that reason. He wouldn’t place Erin in danger, or her infant son. He would protect her. Them.
Asmodeus looked over the female’s head to him. “Where are we taking her?”
Nevar stared straight back at him.
“To the half-demon. Taylor.”
CHAPTER 5
Lysia stared up at the huge white building that stretched wide in front of her, dotted with rectangles, some of which shone yellow while others were dark. The third row of them on the section of building before her were all yellow, as if a fire burned within.
Nevar tugged on her wrist, pulling her along the path towards the building and a broad dark door up some steps beneath a columned porch. The King of Demons followed behind her and she could feel his shrewd gaze on her. It hadn’t left her since they had departed the place that Nevar had informed her was called Cloud Nine. The wily king did not trust her, although she didn’t know why.
Perhaps because she felt attached to his servant?
It hadn’t taken her more than a few seconds to realise that Nevar was just that—the sole servant of the King of Demons, bound to him by contract. Asmodeus had been the one who had turned Nevar demonic, and it seemed her warrior desired to make him pay for that. Because he believed it would bring back the good in him?
She felt sorry for him, because she knew deep inside her that on some level, unconscious to him, he truly believed that, and it wouldn’t work.
Even if he slayed the King of Demons, it wouldn’t free him from the darker side of his soul.
She looked down at his hand on her wrist, at the black fingers tipped with claws. He despised what had happened to him and yet half of his arms and up to his knees was darkness, a sign that he was merging with another form. One locked within him? She had heard tales that the King of Demons could wear another form, one closer to the dark beast the Devil held hidden beneath his charming façade. Nevar had such a form too, but he had given it free reign, allowing both forms to become blurred and altered.
Why had he done such a thing when he wanted the evil gone from his soul?
By allowing it, he had made it impossible for him to purge that evil.
She lifted her other hand and stroked the line of his fingers, from his knuckles to the points of his black claws. He looked down at her, his jade eyes fixed on his hand too, watching her. His black skin was smooth beneath the pads of her fingers and warm too, not as rough or cold as she had expected. He held such heat and strength, and countered it with softness that she could only surmise came from his angelic side.
He flitted between violent and aggressive, and gentle and tender with her.
Asmodeus moved past him, his enormous glossy black wings furled against his bare back, and knocked on the dark door.
In the club, the black-haired male had declared her an admirer of Nevar’s and had spoken it with a mocking edge to his voice, one that had made her feel he believed no one could admire his servant.
She did.
He was strong, whether he felt it or not. She could see his strength in his eyes and it came not from his body but his heart. It was born of the gentle side of him, the one that battled the darkness and craved the light.
The door swung open and Lysia looked there.
A tawny-haired large male stood in the opening.
An angel.
She shrank behind Nevar, pressing her free hand to the back plate of his armour, between the two vertical slots where his wings should be. He had hidden them back at the club, forcing them away with a trace of disgust colouring his eyes. He despised them too.
He hated much, and she could sympathise. She hated many things too.
At the top of that list were angels.
She bared her fangs at the male in warning. If he dared to attack, she would kill him. She wouldn’t allow him near her or Nevar.
“Einar will not hurt you.” Nevar gave an expectant look to the angel. “Will you, Einar?”
The big male shrugged thickly hewn shoulders beneath his tight black t-shirt. “Not unless she gives me a reason to hurt her.”
She growled at that.
His full lips quirked at the corners and an amused glimmer shone in his rich brown eyes. “It was a joke.”
“Not a very funny one,” Nevar said and walked forwards.
She stayed put, refusing to move, even when Nevar stopped and tugged on her wrist. She unleashed a fraction of her power, enough to keep her bare feet rooted to the spot.
“He means me harm,” she whispered when Nevar looked over his wide shoulders at her.
He sighed and smiled, melting her insides. He was gorgeous when he smiled and it reached his jade eyes, brightening them and chasing away the shadows. “He won’t hurt you. If he does, I will kill him. Okay?”
She considered that and then nodded. “Okay.”
Einar turned to Asmodeus. “Did your boy just threaten to kill me?”
Asmodeus grinned wickedly. “It has become apparent that he has a possessive streak.”
The tawny-haired male shifted his dark eyes back to her. “Who is she anyway?”
When she stepped out from behind Nevar, his eyes widened just as Asmodeus’s had on first seeing her wings. She wasn’t sure why they all looked at them that way, as if they had never seen such a thing. She felt certain there were other females in Hell who had wings.
She knew of one female who definitely did.
“Why do you all stare so? The original angel had wings and none stared at her.”
All three men turned stunned gazes on her.
It was the angel who spoke. “What the hell did she just say?”
Neither Asmodeus nor Nevar acknowledged him.
Nevar turned back to face her and dipped his head, bringing his eyes down to level with hers. “You know Amelia?”
Amelia?
She shook her head. “I know no such female.”
“Amelia is the original angel,” Nevar said and she shook her head again.
“She is not called Amelia.” Lysia searched her memories for the name of the original angel, the one who had provided much amusement for the Devil over the millennia. “I do not recall her name but it was not Amelia. I recall that she died. Was another born?”
He nodded. “She survived this time, with the help of the Hell’s angel and the angel of Heaven.”
“Interesting. What else has happened?” She wanted to know. The world had changed from how she remembered it and the balance of power had changed with it.
“Maybe you should all come inside and tell me why you both can understand her and I can’t,” Einar said and she glared at him. He shot one back at her and shifted into the shadows inside the building.
Asmodeus followed him inside and she trailed along behind Nevar.
“What is the last thing you can remember before the battle?” he said in a low voice that she felt was meant for her ears only.
She racked her brain, working forwards from the furthest point she could recall until she reached the memories that hurt her head.
A beautiful scene played out in her mind, golden sand stretching as far as the eye could see, broken only by the wide dark swath of the Nile and the palms that dotted its banks. Beyond it stood the most incredible thing she had seen.
“Thebes.”
Nevar stopped dead and she bumped into his back. He looked over his shoulder, his jade eyes filled with incredulity.
“You remember Thebes?”
She nodded.
“Not Thebes like a ruin… like it is today… but like a city?”
She nodded again. “I recall the people coming and going, and how they would speak of their lives. I spent the whole day basking in the sun and watching them, learning about them.”
“You unde
rstood their language?” He turned back to face her. “As you understand mine?”
“I understand all languages… but I cannot speak them.”
He stared at her as if he hadn’t understood her and she was on the verge of repeating herself, afraid that he might have lost the talent to hear her words in a language he knew, when he moved closer, coming to tower over her, his expression holding a cold edge that she didn’t like, one that unsettled her.
“Thebes has not been a city in over two thousand years.”
Her eyes widened. Two thousand years.
“But I recall it as if it was only yesterday and it was the last memory that is clear to me. How is that possible?” Her heart pounded hard against her chest, a shiver going through her as she stared up into his eyes, searching them for the answer even when she knew he didn’t have it for her.
He hesitated and then lifted his right hand and settled it against her cheek, his palm resting softly on her skin and his fingertips touching the line of her jaw. “We will find out, but first we must see if Taylor knows of your kind.”
She looked beyond him to the dark entrance of the building. A half-demon. Nevar had explained that Taylor often worked with people he knew, helping them with their problems. She hoped the female warrior could help her.
Nevar took her hand in his and the world and her worries melted away as she looked down at them, at his long black fingers pressing into the back of her hand. She liked the feel of it and the heat that rushed through her whenever they touched.
She liked his heat.
It was there in his eyes whenever he looked at her, a palpable hunger that echoed within her and called to her, luring her into stepping nearer to him and closing the gap between them.
She climbed the twisting wooden staircase with him, heading high into the building, towards the level where she had seen the golden light. It shone ahead of her now, illuminating the corridor, and voices drifted to her ears, among them a soft feminine one that carried warmth and possibly a teasing note.
“This is who was at the door, and you let them in, Romeo?”
“They have someone with them and it seemed rude to turn them away.” The angel. The female had called him by another name, speaking it in a voice laced with affection.
The angel was the half-demon’s mate.
She had never thought she would see a union between two creatures of the opposing realms.
Nevar reached the top step and looked back at her. “Don’t flip out. Einar will not lay a finger on you.”
She nodded and followed him into the brightly lit room. Old paintings in gilded frames hung on the deep red walls and furniture cluttered it despite the expansive size. A fire burned in the grate directly across from her and two long dark sofas formed a line to her with a wooden table between them. Weapons covered almost every inch of the furniture, including half of one of the couches, and one resided in the dark-haired woman’s hand.
She was beautiful, her elegant figure clad in tight black trousers similar to the ones Lysia wore and an even tighter black t-shirt that accentuated the size of her breasts. The woman’s blue eyes found her and she smiled.
“Nice wings,” Taylor said and came forwards, brushing past her mate and stopping very close to Lysia.
The woman ran a hand down Lysia’s left wing and she couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled up her throat.
Nevar raised a silver-white eyebrow at her, as if he had been expecting a different reaction. She frowned at him. She had no reason to attack the half-demon. The woman hadn’t meant her any harm by touching her wings. She had merely been curious.
“Do you know of her kind?” he said.
Taylor pinned him with a cold stare. “Her? Does she not have a name?”
He looked down at Lysia and a flicker of guilt crossed his handsome face. “I had meant to ask her when I first met her but Asmodeus interrupted. It slipped my mind today. What is your name?”
“Lysia.”
He released her hand and looked her over, his jade eyes taking her in from head to toe, heating her down to her marrow. They roamed back up her body to her face and locked with hers.
“I should have guessed you would have a beautiful name,” he murmured in a low voice with a half-smile that reached his eyes.
Taylor made a retching noise.
Lysia gasped. “Are you unwell?”
Taylor stared at her blankly.
Nevar sighed. “She asked if you were sick.”
The dark-haired beauty laughed. “No. Just… I’ve only met Nevar a couple of times and didn’t have him pegged as a poet.”
He snarled and flashed his emerging fangs at the woman, the skin around his eyes turning black as they switched to violet.
Lysia preferred them like that. They made her feel they were kindred spirits, connected somehow.
“So what’s her name?” Taylor looked across at Nevar. “Because Einar was right and I haven’t a clue what she said. It sounded like gobbledygook.”
“Lysia,” Nevar said.
“So, Lysia, how does it feel to be lumped with two blokes who don’t even bother to ask you your name?” Taylor caught Lysia’s arm and pulled her further into the room. “Bet it charmed the pants off you. Come on. Take a pew and let’s get a good look at you.”
Lysia stumbled along behind her, struggling to comprehend half of what the woman was saying. She threw Nevar a pleading look and he sighed again.
“Less slang, more words from a dictionary,” he said and followed her.
Taylor made a rude gesture to him and sat on one of the long dark couches. Nevar took hold of Lysia’s shoulders and guided her down onto the one opposite the half-demon, and sat to her right. The seat was comfortable. Perhaps a little soft for her taste. She felt as if she might sink into it.
The half-demon scrutinised her, her blue eyes slowly narrowing as her perusal went on, flicking over every inch of her and leaving no part unstudied.
“Where are you from?” Taylor said.
“She said she was born of Hell, but the last thing she remembers is Thebes… as a bustling city.” Nevar slumped back into the couch, the action causing his legs to relax and part further.
His left knee brushed hers.
She burned where they touched and couldn’t stop herself from looking at him.
He screwed his eyes shut and tight lines bracketed his sensual mouth.
“Are you unwell?” She took hold of his left shoulder and tensed. His arm was like a rock beneath her hand, his powerful muscles speaking to a deeply feminine part of her and stirring wanton thoughts.
She snatched her hand back and blinked, unsure how to handle the way she reacted to him but certain that she couldn’t allow it to get the better of her and act on her impulses.
He rubbed a spot on his black armour over his heart. “Oh, I could not be better. I have the Devil mad at me, a beast on the loose, and a woman who cannot communicate with the majority of the world dumped on me.”
She glared at him for that, crossed her arms over her chest and wished him pain.
He growled and curled into a ball, clutching his chest with both hands. His lips peeled back off his fangs and the darkness crawled over his skin, gaining ground as it twined up his arms and snaked over his thighs.
“Fucking son of a bitch,” he barked and clawed at his black armour.
Asmodeus rubbed the same spot over his heart. “The beast?”
Einar took hold of the dark angel’s arm and spun the male to face him. “This beast on the loose… wouldn’t go by the name of the Great Destroyer, would it?”
The King of Demons nodded. “I was coming to warn the others while Nevar attempted to locate it. We could not find it in Hell.”
The angel paled. The half-demon paled with him.
“You all fear the destroyer?” Lysia said, looking between them all, including Nevar.
He snarled and sweat dotted his brow. “Right now, I just want to kill the fucking thing to stop it from hurt
ing me.”
Lysia pressed her left hand to his cheek and closed her eyes, focusing on him and his pain. She pushed past the surface layers of it, heading deeper into him, forging a connection between them that would allow her to steal it away. There was so much pain inside him, most of it not born from whatever connection he shared with the destroyer. His deepest suffering stemmed from the things he had done and she couldn’t take that pain away for him. Only he could heal it.
She snipped away the pain his link to the destroyer caused him, severing the ties that bound them. It would be a temporary reprieve, a mere weakening of whatever part of their connection transferred pain from one to the other. It would restore itself before long.
Her heart ached as his settled, the hurt in it eating away at her, leaving her trembling inside.
She drew her hand away from his face when he opened his eyes and looked at her, his jade ones overflowing with astonishment and gratitude.
Lysia schooled her features so he wouldn’t see the pain she now held within her, hurt that stemmed from both her and from him, blended together into a deep ache that throbbed within her breast.
“I think I will just go ahead and admit right now that I do not have a Scooby Doo what she is,” Taylor said with a wide smile. “But she is made of all kinds of awesome. Erin is going to love her.”
Nevar growled at the half-demon.
“Get over it.” She made another rude gesture to him.
Erin. That name had been mentioned by everyone several times now and each time Nevar had reacted adversely.
“Who is Erin?” she said to Nevar and he ignored her.
He shifted to the edge of the couch and leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his bare knees. “You have never seen anything like her, or heard of anything like her?”
Taylor shook her head, causing her glossy black hair to bounce against her shoulders. “Nope. Hasn’t Asmodeus? He’s as old as the hills and spent his whole life in Hell.”
The King of Demons shook his head too.
“Not in my lifetime. Hell is vast and there are many parts where I never venture.” His piercing golden gaze dropped to Lysia and narrowed. “I hope you are not from the area where the demons prefer the taste of mortal flesh.”
Her Avenging Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 7) Page 6
