by Kim Faulks
“Those things…spells, or night walkers?”
He gave a shrug, “Both?”
I turned my head to stare out the window. “Yeah, I know a little.”
Night hags. Unseelie. Lucifer’s daughter.
I knew a little about a lot. Just not enough to do any fucking good.
Silence filled the car as the driver shifted his focus back to the road. He took the corners hard and rode the ass out of every car in front of him. I didn’t care, though…in my head, I was already home…already facing the biggest mistake of my fucking life.
I gripped the arm rest and rode the sway as we turned into the steady stream of traffic. My fingers gouged into the arm rest…an ache speared through my fingers, dragging my mind back to hours earlier.
When I thought my life had changed forever.
When I thought Lorn was dead.
I swallowed hard as the driver braked, waited for a gap in the traffic, and then surged ahead. Heat raced through me and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
The tick…tick…tick…of the meter was all I could hear as we tore away from the steady flow of traffic and headed west. Not long now…not long until my world would change forever.
I wanted to crack the window and listen for the drone of traffic to fade. Close now…I licked my lips and shifted on the seat…so close.
The driver turned again…and then again, heading toward the biggest wisteria tree on US soil. It towered like a building, casting its shadow across the space.
We turned into the driveway before the driver braked and pulled up outside the towering black gates of The Darkened Moon.
“I hope you understand.”
I jerked my gaze from the sight of the tree through the grimy windshield and nodded. No human wanted to drive through those gates. I reached for the handle and yanked.
I didn’t blame the poor mortal—delicate sensibilities and all…
I shouldered open the door and climbed out. The sonofabitch was already moving, already rolling backwards as he shoved the car into gear. I jumped aside just in time. The back door jerked open and then swung closed with a thud as he hit the bottom of the driveway and spun the wheel.
“Fucking humans,” I muttered, and turned toward the gates of Hell.
The cemetery was special. A place to remember the ones who’d been lost. A place to pray…to sing and dance, and, for a few—a place to never forget the atrocities that were done to the ones who were loved.
A place to hate.
A place to harbor the dark whispers of retribution.
Until it was time.
The ground shook beneath my feet as I headed toward the tree. The foul scent of rage and sadness was like syrup in my lungs. I swallowed the air instead and lifted my gaze to the height of the wisteria tree.
Even in winter, it stood tall and proud. Spelled to never shed its leaves, the tree was a beacon here…it was comfort—it was pain.
The soft sound of weeping echoed from amongst the purple blossoms. An ache flared across my chest with the sound and, in an instant, my mind was back there…in that darkened alley, with Lorn’s still body in my arms.
I couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t walk.
My boots kicked the edge of the grass as I lifted my head to the still shadow at the base of the tree. What if that was me?
What if Lorn were the one I mourned…what if I never had a chance to hold her again?
My arms ached with need, and that same dangerous need filled me. I wanted her for myself.
“Rival,” the throaty call of my name made the hound in me shudder.
“Lord,” I bowed my head and stalled at the edge of the shadow, staring at the perfect cut of marble that held no name.
There was no name because, to him…she was still alive.
Still breathing.
Still fighting to get back to him.
Even though we all knew she was gone.
No one cared that Stephanie Payne carried his heart. No one cared he called her child his…not her mother, or the law—so the Lord of Hell stood in the shadows of the Mourning Wisteria and let the tree cry for him to an unnamed headstone.
“They’re still alive.” I flinched with the words as he turned his head. Cold, hard eyes seized me. “Why?”
Why indeed.
I shook my head and glanced at the smooth marble. “Were you ever going to tell me the truth?”
“Tell me, warrior, what truth is that? What truth does a sword need?”
I scrambled for that flare of anger. “The truth where she’s just a human…she’s not your blood.”
“Hmm…” he murmured. The sound so innocent, and yet my heart raced. “You think power comes only through blood?”
He lifted his head, eyes sparkling with malice.
Pain sliced me through the middle…stabbing and searing, stealing my thoughts. I doubled over as a grunt tore free. Daylight slipped through my fingers as agony moved deeper, finding the weakest places inside me. My knees trembled, locking and then unlocking. I tried to hold on…tried to summon the strength to fight him.
“You were sent for a reason, hellhound. Don’t place yourself above your station.”
My knees buckled, driving me to the ground. I sank my fingers into the cold earth and tried to breathe. “Y-you wanted me to p-protect her. But it was from you, wasn’t it?”
The unseen blade in my chest drove deeper. “I sent you to do what you do best. I sent you to kill.”
I shook my head. “You never told me…you never told me she was…”
“What, human?
I dragged my gaze high, meeting the terrifying gaze of my Lord. “Special. You n-never told me she was special.”
And, in an instant, the pain fell away, leaving me numb and empty. He looked down at me…and this time his eyes were filled with pity. “And you’ve fallen in love, is that it? You had a job, hound. Get rid of those around her. I want the inspector gone, and by gone, I mean to never surface again.”
I shook my head. He’d be still sleeping…still crashed out after searching the damn streets for her all night.
“She needs to be on her own. I don’t care how you do it, but she can’t be vulnerable…not ever again.”
“And the archangel…am I to get rid of him, too?”
The Lord of Hell’s shoulders slumped as he looked away. Sanctioning a death wasn’t easy, especially not for his own kin. “He made his choice.”
I tried to understand, to see things from his point of view. But there was a monstrous dark cavern that divided us. “You don’t get it, do you? He loves her…I…I love her. We all do. We would all fight to protect her.”
“And die?” The words were murmured, but they carried the blow of a sledgehammer. “Would you die?”
The words welled in the back of my throat.
“Because they won’t ever stop. The Nine isn’t just some crazed nut who came back into her life to screw with her. It’s an underground connection of the most powerful of our kind. Kings, and Queens…”
I flinched with the words as he lifted his head. “You think I did this to hurt her? I’m trying to protect her. As long as they see her as no threat, then she is safe.”
But a hellhound.
A human…
And an archangel at her back…
That could be seen as a threat, if she was anything but human.
And she was human…I seized Lucifer’s gaze and searched for the truth…wasn’t she?
Chapter Sixteen
Titus
I rolled onto my back, waiting for the deafening snore from the hellhound to drag me fully awake. But there was nothing but blissful silence. Someone probably suffocated the bastard in his sleep…
I cracked open my eyes to the empty space beside me, and then turned my head. There was no tangle of legs, no feathers, no snarls and fighting over the comforter…nothing but the cool evening air.
Nothing but the bed, which was all mine…
The sun was mellow, and soft, fading to darkened edges. I shoved up from the mattress and stared around the room. “Anyone here?”
Nothing. I sucked in a hard breath and dropped back down.
I had the apartment to myself…finally.
The four of us gave little room for privacy. There was always someone jostling for the one small bathroom in the damn place. Always someone fighting for the coffeemaker. Always someone wanting to spend time with Lorn.
And no matter how early I rose…there was always someone ready to slide into the part of the bed I left behind.
The damn archangel was painful, cooking and cleaning as a good wife should, but Rival…now he was a pain in my ass.
She stays in the back with me. The words filled my head as I closed my eyes to that darkened alley.
That’s not fair, Gabriel’s words echoed in response.
Deal with it.
Deal with it?
That’d been the stubborn bastard’s response. I tried not to get worked up. Tried to see things from his point of view. But we were all worried…we were all scared.
“Deal with it, you reckon.” I opened my eyes and shoved up from the bed. “I’m gonna deal with the place all to myself, how’s that?”
I stood up, walked into the kitchen, and yanked open the fridge. I wanted to smile and plan out my evening of doing fucking nothing at all, except waiting.
Probably food. “Yeah,” I pushed the fridge closed. “They’re out getting food.”
It was either food, coffee, or sex with us. If I was honest, I couldn’t get enough of any of those. I strode back to the hallway, glanced at the mess of sheets, and then made for the bathroom.
By the time I had a shower, they’d be home, and my world would be turmoil once more, filled with snarling and sarcasm and volatile love.
Leaving me with no time to think…
No time to get pissed off…no time to plan for fucking retribution.
I yanked open the shower door and twisted the faucets, while the same fucking questions filled my head.
Why did Lionel take their fucking side?
It didn’t make sense…none of it.
He wasn’t just the District Commander, he was like a damn father, guiding me…pushing me, and I’d made the rank of Inspector because of him—in record fucking time.
I’d spent my entire adult life working in his shadow…my whole life being part of his family.
Until the rumors.
Cruel rumors. Vile rumors, where my damn private life was out there for everyone to pick apart. I rubbed my chest as the damn ache spread. I’d thought I couldn’t be hurt anymore—not after Natalie had left me for some drugged-out demon cult who peddled Sigile to every supe they could find.
But this was worse…this was a hundred times worse—because this was real love. Not a love that two friends have for each other…and not a love where you stay together because being alone terrified you more.
This love was messy and goddamn crowded.
And the people who I considered family were tearing it apart.
It was my fault Lorn was attacked.
My fault they hated her like they did.
I was a betrayer...in their eyes.
The mortal man who fell in love with an immortal woman. But this world had a fucking reputation of prejudice.
If it wasn't the color of your skin, it was the gender you lay with. There was always someone else to blame for your own misery.
Always someone to hate.
I wanted to forget about her. I wanted to pretend I was like everyone else, just a little less judgmental. But I couldn’t get her out of my head. I was crawling in my own skin…like a junkie needing the next high—but there was only one drug I needed.
Only one drug would do.
I reached for the loofah…her perfect skin, soft hair…the way she was so damn giving—and the memory of her on that bed gripped me like a fist.
God, she was beautiful.
I cupped my balls as heat coursed. I’d spend all day just looking at her like that. She wouldn’t even have to do a damn thing but lie there, knees pressed together until she trembled and then slowly…so fucking slowly, widened her legs.
Energy flared at my shoulder, stealing the heat of desire away. I lifted my hand to the mark and looked down. The damn thing was pulsing. I probed the mark, and hissed.
The burn travelled all the way into muscle. But it wasn’t a normal burn…but a mark. One spelled to connect me to her.
The flare came again like a nail gouging deeper. I slammed my hand against the shower and rode the wave. But the damn thing was relentless…drawing me into a spiral of pain…what the fuck…
I turned and twisted the faucets as the ache dulled. Lorn was with Beavis and Butthead. The only thing she’d have to worry about was if Gabriel hauled off and took the hellhound out.
I snatched the towel from the rack and ran it over my chest. I’d like to see that…I rubbed my hair dry and walked into the bedroom. The drawers were divided, not that I cared. It wasn’t as though I had a lot to take up space.
Work shirts and pants were crammed against the wall in her closet. But the truth was, I didn’t even need those anymore.
I yanked on a shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans and contemplated life outside the police force. I could go private, set up my own gig. Surely there were more people like me out there. People who loved someone like her…
The faint thud of a car door slamming wrenched me from the thought. I lifted my gaze to the window. “About damn time.”
I glanced along the sidewalk and glared at the black and white cruiser. “Wrong side of the line, idiots.”
I shook my head and then glanced at the dresser. Two steps and the damn thing was in my hand. I pressed the button and watched the screen come alive.
No missed calls.
No messages.
I turned my head to the window. If they wanted me, all they had to do was call. They didn’t want me…they weren’t here for me.
I strode back to the window and pressed closer to the glass as the hairs on my arms stood on end.
Something didn’t feel right.
I craned my head, catching the muted sound of breaking glass, and jerked my head toward the hallway. The Changs…
My pulse sped as I grabbed my phone and made for the hallway.
The threats were getting out of hand; graffiti was one thing, the break-in had been another. The place had been trashed. Tables broken, chairs shattered. Mrs. Chang’s kitchen had been overturned, utensils kept for generations left mangled and broken on the floor, and it had left her weeping at the sight.
I’d kept an eye on them, and, at first, my visits had been welcomed—even planned for, with a steaming bowl of soup and fractured conversations consisting of very little English.
Until last night, when Mrs. Chang had greeted me at the door with a scowl on her face and a snarl on her lips, shooing me away with the sweep of her hand.
I spun toward the hallway and took a step as a deafening boom shattered the air.
The floor trembled, and the vibrations raced, tearing through my feet and into my body. I slammed into the wall, and then shoved, bouncing hard as I righted the fall.
My ears rang with the sound. Muffled and dull like a scream inside a can. I slammed my hands over my ears, swiped, and then stared at my palms.
No blood…no blood…I’m okay…I’m okay.
I sucked in a jagged breath and splayed my hand against the wall.
I’m okay…I’m okay…I’m okay…
My pulse boomed inside my head until it was all I could hear. I tried to listen, tried to hear the screams…the restaurant…
Not gas…the thought tore through my head.
’Cause the tanks are out the back.
I lunged forward on unsteady feet as the second charge exploded.
The floor tilted, cracks raced, sending spidery fingers along the wall to reach for the ceiling. A scream burned alo
ng my throat before I fumbled for my phone and punched the buttons.
The call answered and yet there was nothing…nothing. I drove the handset against my ear.
“Hello…Hello!” I roared into the handset and shoved on my boots. I tried to listen, tried to hear the operator speak, as I yanked open the door of the apartment and stepped out.
“9-1-1, what is your emergency?”
The muffled voice cut through the void in my head as black smoke billowed from the foyer to fill the stairwell.
I blinked and scanned the railing. Unable to hear the operator, I relayed what information I had…stopping at the patrol car outside the building.
It didn’t feel right…nothing about this did.
My eyes watered as I pressed the button and shoved the phone into my pocket. My shoulder skimmed the wall as I took a step, and then another.
Flames licked along the bannister, racing toward me as I peered over the edge. The hole in the wall was massive. Fragments of red plastic were embedded in the brick.
But it was the black-smeared arc that seized my gaze…the telltale remnants of a bomb. I shook my head…the vision of the car still stuck inside my mind.
Flames licked and consumed, blending orange and black. I skimmed my spine along the wall and glanced over the railing to the apartment below.
Smoke filled my lungs, thick and choking as I roared, “Hey! Hey, kid!”
A cough tore free, burning me from the inside out as I moved down the stairs. The kid could be in there…could be trapped...bleeding.
I gripped the bannister, then snatched my hand away. Pain ravaged my palm. A savage sound tore free. I raised my arm to cover my mouth and stepped backwards until I hit the wall.
The kid could be in there…
My heart was pounding...slamming against the inside of my chest. I took a smoke-filled breath and stared at the bannister. Gonna get myself killed…all because of a fucking kid.
I lunged, took one massive step, and then hauled myself over the burning railing. The drop was short, but the landing was fucking brutal. I hit feet first, until my knees buckled, driving me to the floor.
Agony roared, spearing through my feet and into my knees. I rolled, shoved. My feet skidded and slipped. I couldn’t see a damn thing…black smoke billowed, burning my eyes.
