by Kim Faulks
Redemption stiffened as the bustle outside the elevator doors quietened.
There was a twitch at his temple. A tell that was every bit as dangerous as a rattlesnake behind him, ready to strike as he kept my gaze.
“Redemption.”
Danger, the word echoed through my mind as the unseelie warrior broke my gaze. Behind him came movement from the foyer.
I wanted to lift my gaze toward that voice. But I was stolen from this moment and cast back to the moment I first laid eyes on Absolon, the Unseelie Prince.
As a child, he terrified me…and not much had changed.
Perfection was a word often thrown around in his presence. Regal, another. But both those words never touched on the predatory way he moved, or the unfathomable vastness in his gaze.
Cold. Calculated. Ethereal.
Those words boomed like the blowback of blood in a syringe as Absolon stepped up to the open doors of the lift, raised his hand and, with a beckoning of his fingers, summoned Redemption.
There was a stiffening of Redemption’s shoulders, a quake of defiance and rage, before it was gone and he turned toward his prince.
“Wait,” I murmured, and took a step. And it was one of those moments where that tiny voice inside my head whispered, what the fuck are you doing? “We’re not done here.”
Redemption lowered his head and gazed at a spot on the floor as he answered. “Yes, Lorn, we are. Go see your grandmother. Give her a chance to explain.”
I lifted my gaze as the prince turned his head, and our gazes connected, and those cold, infernal eyes seemed to reach into my soul.
There was a hint of something that echoed from behind the mask of perfect detachment. A desire buried so deep it barely registered. But it was there, and it stayed with me like a fucking aftershock as the prince broke the connection and turned away.
I jerked my gaze toward Redemption, the unseelie warrior, his head hanging like a beaten dog. All eyes followed him toward the front door.
Who the hell was that man? I shook my head and tried to find a glimpse of the lover I’d once known. There was something wrong here, something that reached deeper than lies and manipulation.
Go see your grandmother…
His words echoed as the stillness of The Circle’s first floor seeped in. What was usually a frantic riot of the hunter and the hunted was quiet as a damn grave.
That alone was frightening.
“Redemption,” I called, and stumbled after him.
But there was no more talking…no more pleading…only his damn back as he cut through the crowd and left me in his wake once more.
Someone on the ground floor broke the spell with a murmur as the prince hit the front door and pushed through. And slowly, whisper after whisper, normality returned.
But not for me.
I wanted answers. I wanted blood. I wanted retribution…but as I watched the hulking unseelie warrior push through the front door after Absolon, I knew it was a farce.
Even after all these years.
Even after all the hurt and the hate, and that damn fucking voice in my head that whispered we just weren’t meant to be, I knew I wanted him.
Every lying, moody fucking inch of him.
And that hollow ache flared to life, reminding me of unfinished business.
Unfinished business that began and ended with him.
Chapter Two
Lorn
The car gave a splutter, and then a cough, before I switched off the ignition and killed the engine.
I sat for a second in the city street, staring at my hands against the worn steering wheel. I should be happy, should be bursting at the damn seams.
I had everything I wanted. A new direction for The Circle, a new pay grade for the hunters, and my father, Lucifer, the Lord of Hell, in my life.
I shook my head and lifted my gaze to the few idiots who milled around on the pavement outside my apartment building.
The slow sigh was becoming a damn habit. Daughter of the Underworld, they now called me. Gain a father, on one hand, and the relentless supernatural paparazzi that came with the title, on the other.
They still hadn’t learned—still something that eluded their flashing bulbs and shotgun firing of their shutters. I wasn’t one to be pushed around. A smirk twitched at the corners of my lips; it seemed I’d inherited my father’s temper.
I gripped the handle and shouldered open the door. Blue neon lights flickered inside the restaurant. I lifted my hand to Mrs. Chang as she swept the floor with broad strokes and watched through the busted wooden slats to the chaos outside her building.
Empty tables waited inside. Times were tough this side of the supernatural border in Harbor, and even tougher for the few humans who stayed here.
My father, Lucifer could shoulder some of this blame. In his attempt to find me, he laced an underworld drug with his blood. He knew it would trigger my powers…and he also knew one hint of his blood was far too powerful for any supe to control—no matter their strength. Wars were started when the drug, Sigil took hold and opened up every witch, shifter, or creature who tasted its power to want more.
The underworld drug, Sigil, did more than make us turn on each other. It called every dark, festered being to this neck of the woods, and gave new meaning to the word chaotic.
The Circle had never been as busy, handling case after case. But new, powerful invaders drove most of the supe’s underground and left empty shops, like this one, behind.
Absolon filled my head as I took a step and skirted the front of my car. Any other time, he might’ve drawn The Circle’s entire focus, but, right now, with Sigil’s power still humming through the seedy city streets, he was just one of many heavyweights to contend with. “Good fucking times,” I murmured as the mob lifted their cameras and their microphones and surged toward me.
Piercing lights flared, blinding me. I lifted my hand to shield my eyes and pushed forward.
“Ms. Payne, do you have anything to say about the rift that’s divided your family?” a male reporter roared in my ear.
“Lorn, can you tell us more about the circumstances surrounding your mother’s death?” a woman shouted in the other.
“Ms. Payne….Lorn. Mzzzz Payne. MZZZZ Payne!”
I swatted them like fucking mosquitoes. They were just as fucking relentless, drawing blood with their words, until a strong grip snared my wrist and Titus’s deep growl broke through. “That’s enough. Move back…now.”
I gave myself to him, letting him lead me like a child along the front of the building and up the steps. Metal howled on metal, making me wince as I stepped through the glass doors and left the mob behind.
“Jesus,” I murmured, blinking into the blur as flashes of light speared my sight.
“You okay?” he released his grip on my wrist to slide his hand along my arm.
Lights flared brighter outside, catching the touch. The foyer darkened, but I caught the snarl on his lips as he growled, “Let’s get out of here.”
The steps were a blur under my boots, so I let Titus do what he did best as a human cop. I let him take control, leading me upwards and away from the glare of cameras, until a brutal thud shuddered the building. I stumbled and grasped the railing.
“What the fuck,” Titus snarled and wrenched me closer, pushing me ahead of him until we hit the first-floor landing.
My apartment door flew open and Rival leapt out onto the landing, eyes wide, fists raised. “Did you feel that?”
“Earthquake?” Titus growled, pushing me toward the hellhound. “The fucking building’s going to come down.”
I skidded, throwing out my hands as the building shook once more. “No, it’s not…listen.”
I knew what it was, and it wasn’t a what…but a who.
The faint sound of shouts and screams followed the growl of engines. I turned my head toward the open door to my apartment. Rubber tires screeched outside, as one by one the reporters fled.
Metal howled, and then
stopped with a bang. But it was the whoosh…whoosh…whoosh of wings that I waited for. I took a step, drawn by the surge of desire as that heavy pulse filled the air and Archangel Gabriel rose from the stairwell, his arms crossed in front with a look of displeasure. “They said that word again. The I word.”
Rival and Titus stumbled out of the way as he touched down in front of me. It was either that or get smacked in the face with forty pounds of muscle and feathers.
But underneath the dark storm in his eyes, there was pain—one I felt like the lash of a whip. I opened my arms for him. No matter how big or how powerful they were, the men I loved craved my touch. “They’re narrow-minded imbeciles and have no idea what they’re fucking saying.”
“I hate it,” he murmured, and glanced at the others. “I hate that they say that about us. One damn look at me and my brothers, and they’d see we’re not blood related. There’s no incest. What we have isn’t wrong.”
“No, it isn’t,” I murmured, and slid my hands along his corded forearms to the bulging muscles of his biceps. Long strands of dirty blond hair cascaded over my shoulders as he curled his body against me. “They hear the word brother, and that’s what their disgusting minds cling onto. They can’t fathom the fact that archangels are created and not born. The word sells; it sucks, but it sells, and that’s all they care about it.”
“I’ll tear them apart,” the sullen whisper was warm against the nape of my neck. “Them and their cars.”
He wouldn’t. I knew he wouldn’t. He was too nice…too kind…too angelic. But the words gave him strength. He pulled away and lifted his head. Blue eyes burned with the kind of passion that was feverish. “I’d do it for you.”
Humans. Humans and their fucking words. I shook my head and rose up onto the tips of my toes. He stiffened as I brushed my lips against his and then closed his eyes.
The kiss was chaste and slow. I caught his shudder and then the tiny parting of his lips as he gave into me. His hands went around my body, one snaking around my waist to cup my ass as he took my hand in his other.
This was all new. New for all of us. We were a family of four, watching each other’s backs and loving each other just as hard as we could.
There was no damn road map here. No trail of damn breadcrumbs we could follow. It was just us, just this. Just the feel of Gabriel in my arms, and the love of my men surrounding me, comforting me—guiding me. Protecting me.
I broke the kiss and murmured. “Let’s go inside. So you can tell me about your day.”
It was becoming our ‘thing’ the debrief, the ‘nasty’ as Rival called it, where we ranted and snarled for a solid hour and then left our shit at the door.
I was eager for that hour to be done, almost watching the clock, for it to be just us. A perfect fragment of normality where we ate, drank, and made love until the night wove its dark spell across our spent bodies.
Rival stepped backwards and held out his hand, his dark eyes alight with need. And I was ready for him—ready to be touched, to be swept away in the dark seduction of this hellhound. I left Gabriel to follow and captured Rival’s hand.
Electricity hummed along my skin, just as it always did when we touched. There was a deeper connection with us, a connection only the daughter of Lucifer could feel.
“I missed you,” he murmured and yanked my hand…hard.
I stumbled forward and hit his chest with the kind of impact that stole the breath in my lungs. Or was it the feel of his hands, or the perfect warmth of his lips that traced the valley of my neck as he nuzzled.
“I missed you, too.”
He was alone here all day. All day to think and need and…plan. Calloused fingers brushed against my arm. I was lost with him, more lost than I’d ever been. Each of them loved me differently—each needed me differently…and yet, for me, it was all the same.
They were my tornado, each one bringing together the right combination for a perfect storm. Titus moved behind me, heading for the open door to the apartment, as Rival eased his hold.
There was an energy today, a kind of anticipation I felt like the aftershock of Gabriel’s wrath. That vibration stayed with me as I slid my hand down Rival’s cheek and followed them inside.
The front door closed behind me with a click before Titus unbuckled his belt and placed his holster on the table. “So…you going to keep us in suspense for much longer?”
I lifted my gaze and met each perfect pair of eyes. I hadn’t said a word, not wanting to put pressure on myself, or this day—and, standing here, I realized the secrecy had been for nothing.
And I loved them for that—loved them more than I could have ever thought possible. “It went well. He took it. He took every bit of it. He wasn’t happy, spluttering and wheezing. I thought I’d killed him there for a moment. But in the end, it all came down to money and power.”
Gabriel drew his wings in tight and perched on the end of the sofa. “Power you gave up, I’m guessing.”
Rival moved closer, not touching this time—only listening. All three of them waited to hear what I had to say. “Yes, power I gave up. But it was power I never asked for or wanted. And in the end, I traded it for something I did want—something that means more to me than fancy cars and decimal points. Fairness for everyone. When we’re forged together instead of being torn apart, then that’s where power resides—true power.”
There was a nod, and then a sigh. I scanned each one and tried my best to still the tremble inside.
“Are you sure that was a smart choice?” Titus murmured, and, as the other two glanced at him, I realized I’d made the biggest mistake, after all.
This wasn’t just about me. Maybe it had been, at the beginning—but not anymore.
Any decision I made from here on out had consequences. I glanced toward the window and the orange sky outside. I could almost smell the rubber, almost hear their shouts in my ears—and feel the burn of their camera flashes as they stole a comforting touch for tabloid news.
It was about us. Every thought, every decision, had to be about the betterment of our family—and not just about what I wanted. So, what did they want? They never asked…never said—never commanded or controlled. “So, what do you think I should’ve done?”
There was a gleam in Titus’s rich brown eyes, one that was more powerful than any spell I’d ever known. My heart gave a stutter as he spoke.
“I think you changed the game for the better. I never doubted you, not even for a second. You’ll always do what you think is right—and not for yourself, but for everyone else around you.”
He left his holster and belt behind and stepped toward me. “But it’s okay to be a little selfish, Lorn. It’s perfectly natural to want something for yourself.”
“I agree,” Gabriel chimed in from the sofa.
Rival gave a nod. “As do I. We know that this is important to you, but sometimes you let others’ needs cloud your judgement.”
I flinched with the words. “How do you mean?”
There was a shrug, and then silence. Oh, so now they wanted to plead the damn fifth?
But it was Gabriel that answered. Gabriel with his perfect kindness and his damn bleeding heart. “You haven’t been to see your grandmother, and we…we’re worried about you.”
All this pressure…all this need. I yanked the collar of my shirt and tried to breathe, but, no matter how hard I tried, there was a tension cinched tight around my chest.
Redemption’s betrayal fucking stung—he’d been my lover, my friend. He’d been my everything, until one day he decided I wasn’t enough, and walked out and never looked back.
But he was a lover—someone I could learn to hate, someone I could get over as well as I could.
He wasn’t the one person who’d protected me, who’d raised me, who’d taught me to survive. He wasn’t family. He wasn’t Alma. I turned away from the strain in their eyes—for I saw enough in my own. “I just don’t…”
“You’ll have to face her one day,” Titus
murmured. “Don’t wait until you’re saying the things you have to say to a grave. No one needs those kind of demons, especially not you. And she could be willing to talk now. She could be ready to tell you all about this mysterious Nine?”
The Nine…a satanic group, I was told. The one’s responsible for my mother’s death. My pulse sped, filling my ears with the heavy beat. Alma refused to tell me anymore than I knew after meeting my father for the first time in a seedy bar down town.
Everyone refused to talk about them. And I wanted answers. I wanted to know who this Nine were and why…why they killed my Mom. Titus was right. I knew he was, and yet the thought of facing her—of hurting her, or forcing her. Sometimes the past was cruel.
“So what he’s trying to say is, it’s okay to be a little selfish where your pain is concerned,” Gabriel murmured. “See your grandmother, yell at her, get all the pain out, and then try to find a way forward.”
They moved together, Gabriel rising from the sofa as Titus moved in from the side. Fingers found mine. Warmth at my back, as Rival wrapped his arms around me tight. Feathers brushed my arms, sending a shiver along my bare skin.
“We only want what’s best for you,” Gabriel murmured, dropping his hand along my arm…until he touched Rival.
Blue eyes flared as he stiffened. There was a growl at my back as Gabriel’s top lip curled.
“For fuck’s sake, you two,” I snarled as Rival tightened his hold.
“Hound,” the archangel snarled. “Remove your arm…or lose it.”
Tension leaked into the air, standing the hairs on the back of my neck.
“I’d like to see you try,” Rival prodded. “Isn’t long until Thanksgiving. I sure like my turkey well and truly stuffed.”
Gabriel’s chest rose with a sudden breath. “One more…just one more fucking chicken joke, and you’ll be the one being stuffed, by the front end of my shitkicker.”
“Really?” I wrenched my gaze over my shoulder. “You two act like fucking children.”
