by Missy Jane
Kissing her temple, he answered in kind. Sorry for what, baby?
Being so weak. You’re probably sick to death of rescuing me.
He pulled her back far enough to see his face. Never.
“But, Cam…” Her eyes widened. “Did I… Did we…”
Though amused by her shock, he bit back a smile. “We spoke mind to mind.”
“How? I’m not an angel. Are you sure?”
His grin broke through. Yes, baby. I’m positive. You don’t have to be an angel. But since you and I are bonding, you’re able to speak to me this way.
Tears shimmered in her eyes again. “Bonding? What does that mean? How is it even possible?”
Kissing her lips, he confessed the truth. “You’re in my heart as much as you’re in my head now. What we mean to each other, the time we’ve spent together, has bonded us. It’s hard to explain, but I swear it’s a good thing.”
Her brow furrowed. “So, once we’re separated, it’ll stop?”
That made his grin melt right off. “We’re not separating.”
“Cam—”
“No, Elle, listen to me.” He gave her a gentle shake. “I’m not going anywhere, and I want you to stay with me. I can keep you safe. I’ll protect you with everything in me.”
She looked away. “But once the threat is gone, you won’t have to protect me anymore. There are plenty of other people who need your protection.”
“You’re more important to me than all of them.”
Her breath hitched, but she still wouldn’t look at him. He fought the urge to shake her again. “Elle. Elle, please look at me.”
After what felt like an eternity she finally met his gaze again. “What?”
As he ran a finger from her temple to her chin, her softness hardened the most male part of him. “You mean everything to me, and I don’t want to even think about going back to the way things were between us before I realized that. Please. Give me a second chance?”
“I…”
The yearning on her face told him she wanted to, but something was holding her back.
I love you, Eleanor.
Surprise lit her gaze, but it was quickly followed by annoyance. “And you can’t say it out loud?”
A surprised laugh escaped him as he pulled her tight against his chest.
“I love you,” he whispered in her ear.
With a growl of annoyance, she pushed against his chest. “Cam.”
He let her pull back but didn’t fully release her. Then he noticed the real pain in her expression and sobered instantly. “Elle, I really do love you.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. Want me to go up on the roof and shout it out?”
When he released her and jumped to his feet, she finally laughed and grabbed his arm as he spun toward the door.
“No, no, you don’t have to do that.”
“Are you sure?”
The radiant smile on her face loosened the knot in his chest, and he returned to the bed.
“I’m very sure. I love you, too, Camael.”
He took over her lips and leaned into her until she fell back against the mattress. Then he covered her with his body and kissed her some more.
“I’m going to make love to you until you have no reason to ever doubt me again,” he whispered against her skin.
A moan escaped her lips as he ran the tip of his tongue over her collarbone. Thoughts of demons, cults, her doubts, and every other concern but her pleasure fled from his mind. Convincing her of his love through his touch was his top priority, and everything else would simply have to wait. He left her only long enough to strip off all his clothes then returned to the bed.
The journey down her body only stopped when the sheets hindered his progress. He shoved them away as quickly as he could to get to the rest of her hidden beneath. She squealed when he ran his tongue around her belly button, and tried to push him away when he dipped inside. Then he gave her a light nip before continuing. Her next sound came out in a gasp as he settled between her thighs. Tasting her was now his favorite treat. He spent long minutes pleasuring her with his mouth as she tightened in climax. Then he slid back up her body to just watch her catch her breath.
Resting on an elbow, he eased his fingers through her hair while his other hand ran lightly over her quaking body. “You are so damn beautiful. I’ll never tire of looking at you.”
Her answering smile stole his breath. She pulled him down for a kiss, and her soft skin slid against his as she wrapped both arms and legs around him. Then, in a surprising show of dominance, she rolled until she rested on top. He grinned and remained pliant as she sat up.
“My turn,” she whispered.
He settled his hands on her hips but didn’t help as she maneuvered to take him into her body. They groaned in unison as he filled her.
“You’re mine, Camael.”
“Yessss. And you’re mine.”
When he might have said more, her movements took his breath away. He held on for the ride and let pleasure fill every crevice. The rage dissipated as if it had never been, and nothing but joy and ecstasy sang through him. She cried out and shuddered above him in another climax as he followed her over.
Warmth covered him as she dropped onto his chest. He tightened his arms around her and let his muscles relax. Nothing would ever take this woman from him again. Not even his own doubts.
Cam expected to be peppered with questions when he woke, but Elle wasn’t even in the room. Annoyance filled him at waking alone, until he heard the shower in the adjoining bathroom. He was about to join her when a firm knock sounded on the bedroom door.
“Hey, you two, food will be ready soon.”
He smiled at the sound of Asta’s voice. “All right. We’re coming.”
Her only reply was the sound of light footsteps walking away. Cam stepped into his jeans and grabbed his shirt off the floor, but before he could pull it on, a loud boom sounded, and the entire house shook with the force. Elle cried out, and he ran straight to the bathroom. He opened the door to find her on the floor in a towel and the entire outside wall missing.
“Cam! Hel—”
Another loud crash shook the house, and part of the floor fell away. Elle screamed as she started sliding away. He leapt into the room and grabbed her hand, but her slick fingers slipped from his grasp. She screamed again and fell over the edge. An anguished roar tore from his chest. The ground had fallen into a sinkhole, the black pit seemingly bottomless. His wings burst from his back, and he dove in.
Somehow he lost sight of her, even though only a heartbeat had passed before he followed. God, where is she? He plummeted downward without need of his wings. Anguish filled his chest at the thought of losing Elle. No. I won’t even think it.
Cam was vaguely aware of his brothers beside him as he passed through the barrier separating the human realm from hell. All of his focus was on getting to Elle and making sure she remained unharmed. Images of her broken and battered body threatened to fill his head, but he shoved them away. He wouldn’t give in to despair. She had to be okay. He would find her at any cost.
They dug up from the bottom to avoid the wards. The anger in Mike’s voice centered Cam as he continued to fly downward.
He spared a thought for Zerach, Rafe, Asta, and Isadora, but Elle was his first priority.
We’ll get her back, Sel said. They probably aren’t expecting all of us.
Only then did Cam realize Sebastian, Nathaniel, and Ariel of the Kehath clan were with them. That made seven angels flying into the hell realm after a single human. This should be a piece of cake.
…
Eleanor screamed until the coppery taste of blood tainted her raw throat, then she sobbed and shut her eyes against the eternal darkness around her. The chill in the air turned damp, until a light mist covered her skin. Bumps broke out all over her body, and she tightened her grip on the towel that now seemed way too small. It covered her from breasts to knees but was nowhere near enough f
or whatever she had fallen into. Like Alice down the rabbit hole, her fall seemed to be eternal.
A noise startled her, and she opened her eyes. The darkness had taken on a red tint, but she was still falling with no clue as to how far and how fast. Then the red tint brightened, and she noticed shapes in the air around her. Another noise sounded, and she craned her neck to look over her shoulder. A scream escaped as the ground rushed toward her at an alarming rate. She fell hard onto a pile of bones that crunched beneath her and turned to dust.
For a moment, she just lay there to catch her breath. Then she rolled onto her stomach and slid down the pile of bones to rest at the bottom. Throat burning and eyes watering from the dust, she struggled to her feet and tied the ends of the towel into a knot at her breasts. She wiped her hands down her hips and looked around. A barren desert stretched out as far as she could see, the landscape only broken by the occasional pile of bones. She stepped away from the one she had landed on and studied it. They were human, animal, and God only knew what type of creature’s bones. All were bleached white from some unknown light source far above her.
The sky was overcast, but she couldn’t make out actual clouds. There only seemed to be a thick mist above her and fine-grained sand beneath. She swallowed down her fears and walked a few paces away from the bones. Should she search for a way out? Should she wait for rescue? There wasn’t a single doubt in her mind that Cam was on his way to get her. Her only real fear was what might happen in the meantime. She crossed her arms over her chest and resigned herself to just staying in one spot and waiting. But then the unmistakable sound of a baby crying reached her ears.
She spun on her heel, listening until she pinpointed which direction it had come from. The baby cried out again, and she ran toward the sound. Her feet made no noise in the dead air as she pounded over the sand to yet another pile of bones, which was larger than the one she had landed in. She ran up to the edge of it and stopped to listen. A soft whimper sounded from around it. She ran and froze as soon as she reached the other side.
Hidden behind the bones was a familiar, tall, wooden fence that struck terror in her heart. The gate stood open in invitation, unlike at any time in her childhood. She talked herself into taking a tentative step forward, but the place looked deserted. As she stood frozen on the threshold, every childhood fear came roaring back to life. Images of her mother’s tear-streaked face, the sounds of maniacal worship, it all echoed through her memories. Terror kept her immobile until the baby cried out again. Before she even made the conscious thought to do so, she was moving. She ran into the compound and looked around, spying the large, central tent they’d visited three times a day, every day, for worship.
The large front flap was held open with a stick in the ground. Familiar smudges of dirt marred the tent’s edges. One spot was blackened from a stray cigarette one of the elders had accidentally thrown too close—she still remembered the smell of the vinyl melting before it was quickly put out. Darkness waited inside the tent, and she stopped at the doorway to let her eyes adjust. The baby cried again, and with her pulse galloping madly, she stepped inside.
The shadows were familiar. A small stage area took up one end, with rows of flattened burlap sacks before it. Those had been their seats, and the smaller children had shared spots. She remembered sitting on her mother’s lap while her mom pretended the burlap sack was one of the most comfortable spots in which she’d ever sat. A shudder ran through Eleanor as darker memories surfaced as well, but she pushed them aside to concentrate on the present. Where was that baby?
The shadows moved in one corner, and she stepped back, closer to the opening. What looked like black smoke swirled in one spot, spiraling up toward the top of the eight-foot ceiling of the tent. She couldn’t make out anything within the smoke, but the whimpering baby seemed to be in that area. Her pulse raced, and she knew she shouldn’t move forward. But she had no choice if there was a baby here who needed help.
This is such a bad idea.
She closed the distance until only two feet separated her from the shadowy smoke. There was another sound, but it didn’t resemble a baby this time. A chuckle rang out, low at first. It strengthened steadily as the smoke seemed to solidify. Every one of Elle’s muscles froze as her mind screamed for her to turn and run. Utter horror filled her until she couldn’t form a coherent thought. A vision from her worst nightmares formed, and it wasn’t a pretty sight.
“Welcome back, my child.”
Red eyes in a face topped by black horns looked down at her, and she screamed. The demon’s head fell back as it laughed at her, the sound like glass breaking inside of her ears. She fell to her knees and covered them, but it did no good. The sound was inside her head.
Cam, Cam, where are you?
If he answered, she couldn’t tell, because the demon’s laugh wouldn’t go away. It softened but was immediately overtaken by a grating voice telling her of all the ways it was going to hurt Cam once he arrived.
“No, no, no.”
She kept her hands clamped over her ears as she shook her head back and forth. It did no good; she couldn’t shut out the voices. She was vaguely aware of movement near the entrance to the tent, but her mind couldn’t hold on to a thought long enough for her body to react. The voices were everywhere and everything.
When the demon grabbed her and pulled her against the side of its body, she screamed at the contact. Her eyes watered from the pain of every exposed inch of skin that touched it. She was on fire. The demon chanted in her head over and over, telling her in explicit detail how it planned to dispose of Cam’s body once it had the angel in its grasp. She cried out at the image it put in her head of Cam’s broken body, blood pouring from every orifice as he lay dead at its feet. She couldn’t even muster up the will to fight. The physical and emotional pain was too great.
Then a cold chill swept through her, and like a slap to the face, it cleared all other thoughts for a split second. It was long enough for her to focus on Cam’s voice in her head.
Elle, I’m here, baby. I won’t let him have you.
It was enough. She opened her eyes and pulled back with all her strength. The demon had a tight grip on her arm, where large red welts were forming from his touch. Black smoke swirled again, low to the ground, before shapes began to form. Suddenly, it was a scene of chaos as Cam and his brothers fought giant rats that burst into flame when stabbed. Revulsion shot through her, but she fought the urge to be sick and concentrated on Cam.
She reached for the tenuous mental link they had shared before but found only a red haze. Hate and anger poured through her to such a degree she was drowning in it. She shuddered and fought to reach Cam again. Any love or caring he usually held within seemed to be completely overrun by his anger. The calm peace she’d sensed before no longer existed.
Cam. Cam!
For a moment she thought he heard her, as he suddenly stopped fighting. He started stomping on the rats and closed the distance to where Armoros held her captive. The demon laughed.
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Bow down to me, fallen one, and I will help you find your way in your new home.”
Cam looked up with such hatred in his eyes Elle flinched. His pupils were no longer completely black, but a hint of red was seeping through.
Mike’s strong voice sounded in her head. Reach for him before he falls. He won’t be able to come back if he’s taken by wrath.
She cried out. “No! Cam, listen to me. You have to fight it. This isn’t worth it. Remember who you are and what you’re fighting against.”
Armoros dropped her, and she crumpled to the ground. She gasped as pain arched up her legs. Cam roared and lunged at the demon.
“Camael, no!” Mike yelled.
Armoros swatted at Cam with one large hand. His black claws scraped through the angelic armor and sparks flew. Elle screamed as Cam staggered back, but then he lunged again, seemingly unhurt. He fought, sword against claws, using his rage to hack against the demon’s powe
r. Soon his brothers were at his side.
Hands grasped Elle’s arms, and she screeched and flailed against them until Sebastian’s face came into view.
“Come,” he said. “We need to get you out of here.”
“Cam—”
“He’ll be better once he knows you’re safe.”
He helped her to her feet and around the worst of the piles of scorched demon remains. She couldn’t take her eyes off Cam and the way he was attacking Armoros. He almost seemed possessed in his rage, like the berserkers she’d once read about. His eyes held no compassion, no patience or justice. He was a creature of wrath, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until the demon was dead.
Sebastian ushered her out of the tent, to where his brother and sister waited with swords drawn.
…
Hatred and rage fueled Cam’s actions as he stabbed at Armoros. The demon laughed at him, and it only enraged Cam further. Here stood the epitome of all of Cam’s problems: this higher-level demon that didn’t know its place and had to remain here in hell where it belonged. It had dared to touch Elle, to hurt her until the pain radiated through Cam’s bones. He would make sure it never tried to get into the human realm again. This time, the demon would die.
A soft voice flittered through his mind, but he couldn’t grasp it through his wrath. He couldn’t let anything distract him from his purpose, so he ignored the voice and fought on. His brothers were beside him as they always had been, as they always should be. He would fight until his final breath to make sure they never had to fight against this evil again. There were too many of the hell-spawn as it was. Why should they continue to fight this same damn one?
He stabbed and kicked, throwing a right hook that connected with the demon’s face and elicited a satisfying crunch. Still the rage consumed him, and wrath tinted everything in his sight. It didn’t matter. This needed to end now. The screech of Armoros’s claws on his armor offended him, and he hollered in outrage. The demon laughed again, letting its head fall back. All Cam saw was an exposed neck that he longed to sever. So he did.
He jumped onto the large body and wrapped his left arm around its shoulders while stabbing his sword straight into its throat. It gurgled, still trying to laugh, as black blood spewed from the wound. Cam didn’t stop. His brothers were hollering something. Encouragement, maybe, as he worked his sword through demonic flesh and muscle. Once it made it through to the other side of the demon’s neck, Cam jerked the sword back and forth to enlarge the wound. Armoros thrashed and tried to pry Cam off, but he held on with every ounce of strength he possessed. He worked the blade through bone and muscle as gore covered the entire front of his body.
