Hope For More (Trinity Book 3)

by Devin Fontaine

  “Ground. Security said a pack of Hellhounds stormed the lobby. Dante, they’re tearing everyone apart!”

  “Son of a motherfucking bastard djinn.” Fuck this shit. “Have Jack go to the courthouse to keep an eye on Faith and her bodyguard,” he called out before he dematerialized to the lobby. Any human who saw him rematerialize could go fuck themselves. He must needs stop those nasty beasts from hurting any more of his employees. Witnesses could be dealt with later, but once one was dead, they weren’t coming back. Dante rematerialized in the back hall of the ground floor next to his private elevator. Screams pierced the air along with the unmistakable, bone-chilling growls of the Hounds. Thankfully, no one was around. He bolted for the lobby, leaping over the security desk like John McClane and landing right in the fray.

  Motherfucking, flesh-eating, rotting dogs were going to pay for this. Then he’d hunt down the djinn and take him apart with his bare hands. Dante’s daemon burst free, furious and ready to fight. Claws and fangs extended, he grabbed the nearest Hound by the throat and got dirty.

  “YOU SEXY LITTLE BASTARD,” Jack growled. He wound an arm around the waist of the sexy platinum blond daemon, named…um, Elijah? Or mayhap Elliot? No matter.

  Jack approached the hot piece of ass a few minutes ago. The male had been lingering at the bar in one of Dante’s clubs, chewing seductively on a swizzle stick. When Jack stopped next to him, the sexy thing rubbed against his body like a cat in heat, sending waves of pleasure rippling down Jack’s spine. Now, here they were in one of the spacious bathroom stalls—once again he thanked Dante for his foresight—and Jack was primed to fuck.

  He leaned over and sucked Elijah/Elliott’s earlobe into his mouth and sank his teeth in. Fates he loved the way the daemon gasped and his body clenched. Using his most seductive voice, Jack whispered in his ear. “You’re such a fucking tease. You’ll pay for rubbing your cock all up on me.”

  The blue-eyed blond melted at the threat, then he pulled back and threw Jack a knowing grin whilst quirking his brow. “I certainly hope so.” He reached down and cupped Jack’s hard dick through his jeans and Jack groaned. “Mmmm. Nice, big boy. Very nice. I’d love for you to punish me, but only if you use this to do it.” He gripped Jack’s shaft harder and the wraith’s knees went weak.

  “Fuuuck.” Jack threaded his fingers in the daemon’s hair to hold him still as he crushed their mouths together. Fates, he must needs give it to the boyishly handsome little flirt, he wasn’t shy. At all. Eli-something clung to Jack’s shoulders and moaned into his mouth as Jack devoured every delicious sound. The vibrations from Eli’s throat sent a bolt of electricity straight to his aching groin. They pulled apart and paused to catch their breath. The vibrations against Jack’s dick started up again, which was odd since they weren’t kissing and Eli definitely wasn’t moaning. Or touching Jack. The vibrations kicked in again and Jack realized it was coming from the front pocket of his jeans.

  Ah fuck, it’s my phone.

  He dug the device out and answered then call without looking, keeping his sexy prize locked against his chest with one arm around Eli’s back. “Yeah.” The handsy daemon used the distraction to run his hot, velvet tongue up and down Jack’s neck whilst on the other end of the call was another sexy little daemon. Dante’s sitri, Grady. Only Grady didn’t sound sexed out and ready to fuck. No. He screeched at the top of his lungs, the shriek piercing the eardrum of Jack’s vessel. Then Grady blabbered so fast, it all gushed out as gibberish.

  “Wait. Hold on. Grady? Slow down. I can’t understand a thing you’re saying.”

  Eli rubbed both hands across Jack’s chest and tweaked his nipples before sliding his fingers down to grip Jack’s belt buckle. Jack pushed the daemon’s hands away so he could focus on Grady, who was out of breath and losing his mind.

  “Jack! Jaaackk! The Hellhounds. They’re attacking Inferno!”

  Jack’s stomach clenched hard and his lungs constricted. When Eli tried to feel him up again, Jack snapped. “Beat it, kid. I’ve got shit going on.”

  Eli sneered and gave him the finger before stalking out of the bathroom. What the fuck ever. Jack returned his attention to the hyperventilating sitri on the phone.

  “Grady, are you telling me there are Hellhounds, actual Hellhounds, inside the Tower of Inferno? Like, right now?”

  “Yes!” he wailed. The sound of Grady’s panic sent chills down the back of Jack’s neck.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  “No!” Grady shouted. Jack froze and opened his mouth to argue, but Grady filled him in. “Dante wants you to meet Faith behind the courthouse. She’s going home soon and he doesn’t want her alone.”

  For fuck’s sake. Damn Dante and his overreacting.

  “Dammit, Grady. She’s not alone. Dante’s eight-foot tall hired goon is with her. I must needs be with Dante, not babysit a babysitter.” He’d met more than one of the fallen angels Dante hired to protect his mate and his businesses. If every one looked like the one’s he’d sent, they certainly didn’t need Jack’s help. In fact, he’d probably only be in the angels’ way and piss them off, which wasn’t something he was eager to experience.

  “Listen here, Jack Bellamy, you selfish ass.” He flinched at Grady’s harsh words. Jack had never heard the sitri act anything but pleasant, sexy, or when he was in a playful mood, teasing. He wasn’t sure what to think about this new, furious side. “Dante only asked me to do one thing before he left to fight the Hounds, Jack. One thing! And that was make sure you went to his mate. Are you really going to make me tell him you refused to take care of the most important immortal in his life?”

  Dante, you fucking three-eyed bitch of an elf!

  Jack stomped his foot, massaged the back of his neck, and reined in the desire to thunk his head down against the stall in frustration. “No, shit. I’ll go. But Dante better fucking call me if he needs help with those Hounds,” he growled. “And, the second Faith is behind the wards of the penthouse, I’m coming to help.”

  “Stay with Faith, Jack. The fallen angels are here with him. I summoned every single one of them that wasn’t already at the Tower. They’re all downstairs fighting.”

  “Downstairs?” He squinted. “Grady, where are you?”

  “Hiding under my desk,” he squeaked.

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, Jack couldn’t help but chuckle. “Stay safe, Grady.” He hung up, so pissed that Dante had rendered him impotent, he nearly crushed the phone in his hand.

  Fucking Dante, making Jack miss out on a brawl, and with Hellhounds. He hated those things. Jack hadn’t had a decent fight in over a century and really wanted to sink his claws into those filthy dogs and draw some blood. Instead, he dematerialized right from the bathroom stall over to the courthouse, all the while cursing under his breath. Dante owed him for this, big time. Making him skip a fight to look after Faith, even though the stultus paid a shit ton of money for a bunch of badass angels to do it for him.

  Jack was still muttering curses when he rematerialized in the parking lot behind the courthouse. Naturally, it was raining.

  THOMAS HEARD Faith yawn as he followed her out of the sentencing cellblock. In the last few hours, she carried out two banishments and temporarily stripped four immortals of their powers.

  “Today was definitely a long one,” Thomas said. They went through the first warded door and he nodded to the uniformed angels who stood guard.

  “It was. I’m beat.” She sounded exhausted and looked even worse. Faith hadn’t smiled all day. Not once. He’d made sure to pay attention, and noticed as of late that her eyes were missing their usual spark whilst her skin looked pale and dull.

  A few hours ago, Michael called another emergency Trinity meeting. Due to an important court appearance, Thomas couldn’t make it, but he figured it must needs have to do with Faith’s soulmate Lust, and the fact that his businesses were being targeted by a crazed djinn and his pack of Hellhounds. Either that or due to the recent string of dead immorta
ls turning up left and right, like rank and filthy bridge trolls crashing a party. Or more likely, Michael covered both topics.

  No matter, because Thomas felt certain the reason Faith appeared weary and worn was due to the fact that when she wasn’t at the courthouse doing her mentally taxing job, she was locked in her home whilst dealing with a pissed off half-daemon prince. Mayhap Thomas didn’t know Lust well, but he gleamed enough. The Son of Lust was far from passive. In truth, he knew the male took the attacks on his employees and customers quite personally. A surprise, as Thomas thought daemons cared about no one but themselves.

  “Mayhap you should take a day off,” he suggested to Faith. “There aren’t any sentences scheduled for tomorrow that I know of, and any that crop up can wait until the following morning.”

  Before a sorceress—namely Faith—had been dedicated solely to the courthouse, thanks to a few threats and bribes on Lust’s part, Thomas spent a great deal of his time putting in requests to the Regency, begging to spare a class nine for various sentencings. Sometimes it took days before one turned up to carry out punishments. Before Faith, the prisoners used to wait up to a week. One extra day in a warded cell wouldn’t hurt the offenders any, and if it did, he didn’t care.

  “Really?” Faith glanced up, smiling for the first time in a while. The gesture made a big difference, her lovely features reshaping from drawn and depressed to radiant and relieved.

  Thomas chuckled and patted her arm. “Really.” They reached their offices, Faith’s being two doors down from his. “I must needs grab my bag and then I’m heading out.” Faith nodded. “Wait for me. I shall escort you out.”

  Several times a week, before the Hellhound attacks, Lust personally shepherded his mate to and from work. After the attacks? Lust did it every day. With one or two intimidating angels along for the ride. Being a practitioner, Faith cannot dematerialize on her own, and whether or not he liked the Son of Lust, Thomas didn’t blame the male one bit for not allowing his soulmate to traverse the city on foot or by car. With the current atmosphere, it was simply too risky for a class nine to be out and about, especially with that bastard Famine killing immortals left and right, and according to the kidnapped class two sorceress, True Harris, the Horseman was also intent on opening the portal. Thomas wouldn’t be at all surprised if it turned out the Hellhound attacks were somehow related to Famine and his search for a class nine, though that would be a stretch.

  Walking Faith to and from the parking lot out back was no bother, and it made Thomas feel as if he were in some way contributing. Plus, he adored Faith and didn’t want her left vulnerable to harm.

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Faith unlocked her door and he did the same. A few minutes later, they were chatting casually whilst headed toward the back lot. Hidden from human eyes, a small area served as the point where Lust picked her up. Seeing as Lust was not approved—and as a daemon, likely never to receive approval—to enter and exit via the warded transport room within the courthouse, the one the immortal employees utilized, the conveniently inconspicuous parking lost must needs make do. Each day, after Faith left with Lust, Thomas either dematerialized home or, like today, got in his car and wound his way through traffic. At times, the twenty-minute ride did him good, allowing him time to decompress before entering his personal space.

  “After you.” He held the door for Faith.

  “Thanks.” She paused and slipped her hand into his to give it an affectionate squeeze. “You know, for being so understanding.” Faith dropped her gaze and shuffled her feet before glancing back up. “I know my personal drama isn’t your problem.”

  Thomas stared into her grateful blue-green eyes and tightened his fingers to return the gesture. “Anytime.” Working with Faith was a dream. The sorceress was smart, friendly, witty, loyal, and incredibly good at what she did. She even redid most of the wards around and in the courthouse. Anything he could do to made her life easier, all she must needs do was ask.

  They let their hands fall to their sides and Thomas followed Faith outside. At some point during the long day, it had started to rain. He gently maneuvered Faith under the tiny overhang over the door, just enough space for a single being to stay dry. Turning his head up, he saw low, dark clouds in the sky, so large they blocked sight of the tops of nearby skyscrapers. A patter of drops fell and the beads glanced off Thomas’s head and jacket. Through the light sprinkle, he caught sight of an enormous immortal clad in solid black from head to toe, unconcerned with the rain dampening his hair and clothing. The ‘I’m a badass’ look was topped off by a pair of dark sunglasses. Mayhap the big lug doesn’t realize the sun isn’t out. Thomas noted an embroidered patch on the male’s shirt. R. Kearney stitched in white block letters on a black background. The fallen angels looked more or less the same, but R. Kearney was the one to accompany Faith most days.

  “There’s your protection.” He nodded toward the perpetually-scowling bodyguard. Rain came down harder and drops ran down Thomas’s cheeks and forehead in winding rivulets. He shook his head to dislodge the water from his eyes.

  “I see him,” she said. Whilst the big angel kept his gaze fixed upon Faith, as he should, Faith and Thomas scanned the parking lot for Lust. After several moments and not a half-daemon in sight, she sighed. “Dante’s not here yet.”

  Thomas felt for her. In truth, she looked ready to drop. He thought it likely all she wanted to do was go home and crash, mayhap for a good twelve hours or so.

  “I’ll wait with you.” Faith swung her head in his direction and squinted.

  “You don’t have to do that.” She pointed at R. Kearney. “My protection is here.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  The non-committal response covered Thomas’s unkindly thoughts with regards to the rough, mercenary-like fallen angels Lust hired. Faith dealt with enough stress already. Burdening her with his negative opinions would do naught but add to the pile. The angel approached and even though Thomas held his tongue around Faith, his face refused to cooperate. The deep frown etched in his features said what words did not. R. Kearney was intimidating as hell, in black tactical pants and a short-sleeved military shirt, looking statue-like and unflinching even as rain pounded down and loud claps of thunder rolled overhead. The angel wore various weapons—strapped to his thigh, his belt, in a holster under his arm, and likely a half-dozen other places Thomas couldn’t even begin to imagine.

  “Ms. Summers,” Kearney said, his rumbling voice as chilling as his presence.

  “Where’s Dante?” she asked whilst her eyes still searched the lot.

  “My understanding is he’s sending someone in his stead to collect you.”

  “Someone else?” Faith sounded confused, which made two of them. Lust always, and Thomas meant always, personally came for his soulmate. “Why?”

  “Sorry I’m late!”

  They turned toward the new voice and it didn’t escape Thomas’s notice that R. Kearney subtly shifted his large body between Faith and whoever approached.

  Hmph. Mayhap the angel isn’t so bad after all.

  With the rain now coming down in buckets, leaving Thomas soaked all the way to his boxer-briefs, he couldn’t tell who was sprinting toward them until the figure reached the concrete steps leading to the back door.

  Ugh. Chills pricked Thomas’s arms and neck. The wraith, Jack Bellamy, took the stairs two at a time. As Jack got closer, Thomas noticed something off about the male. As with most of the immortals in Eastlake Falls, Thomas wasn’t particularly fond of the wraith. Wraiths aren’t trustworthy and nearly all were banished both before and after the Great Battle. Except for Jack. As he had been told, Lust insisted his friend remain on the Earthly plane and after the Son of Lust’s service and dedication to defeating the Daemon Kings, as well as help from the wraith himself, Michael caved. In Thomas’s opinion, the jury was still out on whether or not having Jack around was a good idea.

  “Jack?” Faith asked when he got close enough to hear her over the pounding
of the rain and almost constant rumble of thunder. “Where’s Dante? Why are you here?”

  Jack gave her a roguish smile, flashing his vessel’s dimples, and Thomas must needs smother a snort. He saw right through the wraith’s facade. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He opened his mouth to question Jack, when another familiar voice spoke from the parking lot.

  “Thomas! I was hoping to catch you before you left.” What? He spun on his heel and watched as Hope, bright yellow umbrella shielding her strawberry blonde ponytail, made her way along a paved path that wound around the courthouse. She came from the direction of the nearest subway station half a block away.

  Thomas blinked and collected his wits. “Hope? What are you doing here?”

  Next to him, Jack murmured, “Faith, we really must needs get going.”

  “I don’t understand. Where’s Dante? And…” Faith lowered her voice. “We can’t dematerialize in front of Hope. She’s human.”

  “I’ll take care of her,” Thomas volunteered before Hope got close enough to hear. “I have my car with me today.”

  “Well, then get the human and get the fuck out of here, More,” Jack growled. “Dante wants Faith home. Now.”

  Irritated, Thomas shot the wraith a dark look then turned to Hope and smiled. “This is such a surprise.” Hope reached him and tried to extend the umbrella to cover them both, though he was a soggy, lost cause. Thomas leaned down and gave her a peck on the lips.

  “Did you have a good day?” Hope asked.

  “Of course,” he replied, ignoring the acid that roiled in his stomach. The absence of Lust and presence of the wraith made him twitchy. Badass angel or no, Thomas felt exposed somehow. “Want to grab some dinner?” He took Hope’s hand and started to tow her in the direction of his car, eager to get away from the increasingly impatient Jack and the foreboding fallen angel. If he had his way, Hope would never cross paths with either of them.

  Her face suddenly brightened and Thomas knew he was fucked.