Book Read Free

Watcher Compelled: Dark Angels Paranormal Romance (Watchers of the Gray Book 6)

Page 7

by JL Madore


  Layne accepted the delicate ivory cup and sipped at the rim. It tasted like feet, but she didn’t let that stop her. She drank every drop and choked as she swallowed. With her eyes watering, she handed the cup back. “Will that clear me?”

  Neima grin stretched cheek to cheek. “No. That was for my own amusement. You are impetuous and careless, child. You taunt the balance and think yourself immune because the Dark Prince gave you gifts? He gave the Nephilim gifts too. Those warriors serve both him and his sister. Dark and Light. What makes you think you can forfeit teachings of our magic and have everything work out in your favor?”

  “I didn’t—”

  “You invaded him on the emotional plane in the perspective of a lover he grieved for when you had already created a connection with his body and imprinted as his lover yourself.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t interrupt,” she said, her aura expanding behind her in a wave. “You think too highly of your talents. There are others who are smarter, stronger, and more powerful than you, yet you take no notice and ignore their warnings. Only a fool taunts a dragon and is surprised to get burned.”

  Layne’s cheeks burned as moisture stung her eyes. “So, it’s hopeless? I’m left to hunger for a male I despise?”

  Neima reached forward and popped a brownie into her mouth. “You opened a door. You sought to learn from the Viking and now you must accept the lessons he will teach you.”

  “I want nothing from him. He’s my enemy.”

  Neima sipped at the lip of her teacup and smiled. “The greatest enemy you have is yourself, little nut. Once you accept that, you’ll see that everything happens as it is meant. Reap what you’ve sown, child.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Thea stepped into the back of the freight elevator while Seth closed the gates and screens to secure them. When he hit the button to get them going, the jolt into motion had her heart racing. ”I wish we were home in our pajamas watching movies right now.”

  Seth chuckled and gathered her into his strong embrace. “You’re gonna rock this, Angel.”

  She appreciated the sentiment but wasn’t so sure. “What if they resent a member of the Choir chairing the council?”

  “Some might. Others won’t. Things aren’t going to go smoothly off the top. There will be bumps. We prepared for that and have all contingencies accounted for so we keep you and Cassi safe.”

  “And the others,” she reminded him.

  He shrugged. “You and Cassi are the only ones we’re worried about.”

  “While that’s sweet, to admit you don’t care if the other members of the council live or die goes against everything we’re trying to do here.”

  Seth snorted. “Okay, when you say it like that, it doesn’t sound good. I’ll work on my answer and PC it up a bit.”

  The elevator bumped to a stop, and they stepped out into the white marble foyer of Zander’s club loft. As they approached the door, it swung open, and Zander ushered them in. “Welcome, welcome.”

  Seth took her coat and hung it up. Then, he peeled off his long ruby-red jacket and hung it up too. She eyed him up and down. She’d never get used to it. His massive muscular frame, the square jaw, the playful sparkle in his blue eyes.

  “You’re making me hard, Angel.” Seth said, a strong arm wrapping around her lower back and pulling her against his hips. “Keep eye-fucking me like that, and we’ll have to postpone the meeting.”

  “I’m out,” Zander said, making a hasty retreat.

  Thea laughed. With all of them living under the same roof, they all heard and saw too much of the others personal lives. It was rather wonderful. “I was admiring my husband and thinking how you dazzle me.”

  Seth pulled her against his broad, steel chest and brought his lips to her ears. “I’d like to dazzle you right out of that dress. Remember the last time you and I were in this loft?”

  She whimpered, images of Seth naked and hard bombarding her. Her head dropped back, and his teeth nipped at the tender flesh of her neck. “Oh, how you hated me.”

  “I wanted you though.” He ground his hips forward and shoved her palm over the bulge in his jeans. “Even when I hated you, I wanted you clenching my cock with your sex, and your mouth, and your hands.”

  “Yo, you two,” Bo called from the living room. “We’re forty-five minutes out.”

  Seth threw her over his shoulder and headed to the spare room he’d used that night. ’Unavoidable time-out. I swear I’ll be quick.”

  Thea smacked Seth’s backside, and kicked as he kidnapped her. “You’re making me look bad.”

  “Impossible,” he said, shutting the door and locking it behind them. “You’re stunning, impressive, and absolutely fuckable. There’s no making you look bad.”

  He slid the zipper down her spine and when her dress collapsed to the floor, he picked it up and laid it flat on the dresser. “See, no wrinkles.”

  She giggled, watching him kick off his boots and make quick work of getting undressed. When he straightened, he groaned, staring at her. She’d chosen the black thigh-highs and garter route to add to her sense of power. They matched her lace underthings and red, high-heeled shoes. “What do you think of Thea, the powerful female of business?”

  “Any version of Thea is beautiful, but I gotta say, in just garters, lace, and heels . . . fuuuuck.”

  “Forty minutes, you two,” Zander yelled from the other end of the loft.

  Seth gave himself a couple of rough strokes, and moisture hit her core. He stepped in close, thumbed under the elastic of her panties and sent them to the floor. “On your knees, and leave the shoes on.”

  Thea climbed onto the bed, and waggled her backside in the air. Seth crawled between her legs and settled on his back, smiling up at her core. He tested her readiness with his fingers as he always did, and then his mouth claimed her. Sweet divinity, the male had a way with his tongue.

  He growled, gripped her thighs, and pulled her up onto her knees. “That’s right, Angel. Sit on my face. Let me lap you up.”

  Sitting over his eager mouth, she gripped the headboard and ground down. Her body ignited. The pulsing inside her quickened, heightening right where he suckled and probed. She knew she needed to come quickly but wanted it to last forever. Why couldn’t a female feel like this forever? The ache. The pinching burn.

  “Sweet seduction, you taste good,” he mumbled against her core. “You’re my fucking milk and honey, Angel.”

  Growling, he went at her hard. It wasn’t the kind of pleasuring you shared with your wife when people were in the next room. It was possessive and carnal and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

  The friction of her nipples rubbing against the lace of her bra had her whimpering. “More,” she gasped. “I want you inside me.”

  He didn’t stop though. Seth wasn’t a male to be rushed. For all his easygoing traits, he was quite dominant. He knew what he wanted and how he wanted it. He lapped and licked and growled against her core until that amazing ache spread through her and her body began to convulse.

  The glorious ebbing throb left her shaking and hungry.

  She was about to complain when he shifted out from under her and flipped her onto her back.

  He knew her body well enough that he entered in one strong, smooth thrust. He wasn’t rough, but he didn’t hesitate in any way. He knew how they fit together, and he was impatient to sink deep inside her.

  “Every time,” he panted, beginning a steady rhythm of push and retreat. “Every time, you take my breath away like the first.”

  The pleasure-filled anguish of his face had her arching back with another wave of hunger bearing down on her. Seth seized the moment and hooked under her knees, lifting her hips and pressing forward. The invasion increased, his erection filling her womb and bumping something inside her that had her gasping. “Oh . . .” she breathed. “Oh . . . yes.”

  Decorum forgotten, she stiffened and writhed beneath him. He clapped a hand over her mouth,
looking smug. Eyes closed, he pounded into her.

  Brow down, jaw tight, the slap of flesh on flesh thundered in the room. She shattered a second time. This wasn’t the aching pulse of moments earlier. This orgasm detonated deep within her and had her convulsing beneath him.

  She bit his hand, her cry muffled in his palm.

  “Fuck yeah,” he grunted, his hips slamming into her and locking. He shuddered and pulsed as he spilled inside her. This was her warrior. With his face twisted and his grip rough and his cock filling her with his heated essence.

  This was her male.

  Seth collapsed on top of her but quickly rolled off. Stroking his softening erection, he collected the mixed creams of sex and wiped his hand up the inside of her thighs and across her naval. “I’m enough of a possessive bastard that I want my cum on you, and in you, when those men stare to the head of that table and see how beautiful and capable you are. You’re mine, Angel.”

  She stretched, sad there was no time for the lazy afterglow of great sex. “Yes, my warrior. I am most definitely yours.”

  Bo filled the water pitchers and set them on the bar at the side of the room. He’d checked the codes on the locks from the roof that led into the foyer and master suite, and from the main floor to access the elevator. The glass was bulletproof, and the floors and ceiling were reinforced to keep even a dragon where he was supposed to be.

  They were set.

  All they needed was the Council Chair.

  “I’m here,” Thea said, jogging in her red heels to the living room. Her blonde waves now hung long and loose, but still, she looked sharp and professional. Seth, however, looked flushed and pretty damned satisfied.

  When Thea passed by and went into the dining room to check on things, Zander raised his hands. “Tone down the ‘just fucked’ aura you’re throwing off, Egyptian. We’ve got a lot riding on this first meeting. You got your beast locked down and tethered?”

  “Yeah, baby,” Seth said, waggling his brow. “All good over here.”

  Zander rolled his eyes and turned. “Bo, are all the mechanicals working and in order.”

  He nodded. “Checked and double-checked.”

  “All right then, is everything to your liking, Angel?”

  Thea turned to them and nodded, a nervous smile on her beautiful face. “Can you boys call me Thea during Council events? I don’t think being reminded I’m an Angel of Powers will help me earn their trust.”

  Zander nodded. “Thy will be done, milady. Good call. Are we ready?”

  Their phones all pinged at the same time, and Bo checked Hark’s message from the parking lot. “The first two guests have arrived. It’s showtime.”

  Bo strode out to the foyer to welcome the heads of species. The Djinn Master and his sister, Jhaia, came up first. Thea greeted them at the door and ushered them inside.

  The next elevator held Rayvn and Wilder, representing the Dragons. The two of them looked tight, and he was glad they’d found each other, both believing themselves the last of their species for years.

  “Hey, Viking,” Rayvn said, offering a fist to bump.

  Bo met the greeting and bumped knuckles with Wilder as well. The ex-military newcomer looked a shit-ton better than the last time he’d seen him bleeding all over the sidewalk after being attacked by Leviathans. “Welcome.”

  When the two went inside, he sent the elevator back down to the first floor and leaned against the wall. The past three nights he’d been exercising the old “fake it till you make it” theory. No matter how much he tried to reassure himself, something just wasn’t right.

  Danel asked him the other night about his beast. Was it pacing? Was it pulling at its tether? It wasn’t. Maybe he was looking for trouble, but what bothered him more was that his beast was almost silent. Why?

  That didn’t happen. Their other half—the truly violent and volatile half of themselves that carried the dark souls of all their dispatched victims—had gone dark. He racked his memory to pinpoint when it happened. It hadn’t truly fought with him since he’d come home from Purgatory.

  Maybe his destructive impulses were sated?

  He doubted it. In the centuries they’d been living their less than symbiotic push and pull, his beast always had something negative to contribute—an urge to kill, a hunger to fuck, a thousand voices of his dead to haunt him with.

  The elevator motor whirled into life, and he snapped back to attention. When the car arrived, he opened the screens and the gates for Cassi and Dougal.

  “Hello, beautiful.” He kissed his sister-in-law on the cheek and opened the door for them. The sharp, charcoal gray pantsuit she wore fit her close and accentuated her stunningly feminine figure. He brushed a loose strand of ginger hair from her face and gave her a wink. “Be safe tonight, Cassi.”

  “Always,” she said, her advisor and second-in-command giving his nod of promise. Kyrian’s wife, Mistress of Shedim, was one of the kindest, most intelligent females he’d ever encountered. The Greek was hopelessly, passionately in love with her, and would never survive if she were harmed.

  The next ten minutes went along in much the same way. He welcomed the new Queen of the Shadow Casters, the Fire Demons, two powerful Shades, and the representatives from the Reapers.

  Reapers worked directly for the Choir so they didn’t have a King or anything, but they had issues with the way things were currently running, so were welcome to come and voice their grievances.

  When Kyrian arrived with an Asian schoolgirl who looked something straight out of an anime cartoon, it didn’t take long to figure out who his brother was escorting.

  “Drake, welcome.”

  Sailor Moon popped her heel and her skirt flipped up. Kyrian chuffed and pointed at the door. “Get inside and stop acting like an ass.”

  Bo chuckled. He never did hear how the Greek formed a bond with one of the most secretive species of the Otherworld. Not that he’d likely tell him, but he’d have to remember to ask one day.

  The last elevator to arrive held Colt Creed in the fawning midst of the Oracle Queens. Cara, Amanda, and Clare. As an Alpha Ice Demon, the cop could hold his own, but the usually cool operator looked thoroughly flustered surrounded by three brawny women in full drag. “Oh, come on, cookie,” Cara said. “You never know unless you try.”

  Colt worked on the gates as Bo opened the screens. “Ladies, I believe we’re almost ready to start. Let me walk you in.”

  Colt threw him a relieved glance, and he fought not to laugh. The demon took on the worst the streets had to offer but was out of his depths with three flirtatious Oracles.

  As he closed the door and locked them in, both manually and with his gift, Clare Voyant stopped and offered him a sad smile. “It’s a rough stretch for you, baby, but remember, when the pain is at its worst, you’re at your best.”

  “Too true, sister,” Cara said, nodding. “Seize the reins.”

  “From your lips,” Amanda agreed, placing a massive hand against her chest. “No doubts, sweet Dane. No doubts. Forgiveness is key. Everything happens as it must.”

  He wasn’t following. Zander respected them, so he thanked them for the advice.

  “Ladies,” Zander said, meeting them each with a kiss to the cheek. “Stunning, as always.”

  Bo tried not to chuckle. In the brightest fuchsia, peacock blue, and silver, the three of them wore side-slit dresses with more sequins than the entire lineup of the Rockettes.

  The feathered plumes flowed high and flirted with the ceiling as they strutted, their four-inch heels clicking on the dark cherry hardwood. One might think they’d come straight from one of their shows, but he had a feeling this wasn’t for show. This was them.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Thea said as the Queens settled in. She swallowed, meeting their gazes from the head of the long, wooden table. “For those of you I haven’t met in person yet—”

  “Who are they?” the Fire Demon asked, pointing at the Queens. “No species of Darkworlder would ever be
caught wearing a getup like that. And I’m not getting Lightworld off them either.”

  Thea’s smile hid any sign of concern or pique she might have felt. “The Council will be made up of Otherworlders, but in deciding the initial issues to focus on, we’ve invited Detective Colton Creed, and the Gypsy Queens, also known as the Oracles. Their knowledge of what’s happening within our city will enrich the conversations in the early stages.”

  She nodded to the Queens and Colt, assuring them they were welcome. “As I was saying, I am Thea, a fallen Angel of Powers and wife of Nephilim Warrior Seth.”

  The Egyptian stood at attention behind his bride, his arms crossed, his jaw flexed. His position thrust out his chest and highlighted his massively tank physique.

  They’d agreed these meetings were to be held without the presence of weapons, but even without his vest and guns, there was no doubt Seth would snap anyone in two if they made a move on his mate.

  “Stand down, warrior,” she said, rolling her eyes. “We are here to break bread not bones.” That got her a few laughs. “Okay, so obviously, we don’t yet have a representation of all the species. I’m hoping, in time, we’ll prove the value of the Otherworld Council giving a voice to its members. The gist of things is this. Every force has its equal. Dark and light. War and peace. Bold and meek. Both are needed to retain the balance, but when that balance holds one group down to keep the other up, adjustments must be made.”

  “And what do you know of Darkworld suffering, Angel?” the Shade said, hovering over a chair by the window.

  “Quite a lot, actually.” Thea took her seat and met the attendees eye-to-eye. “For centuries, I worked a station monitoring Otherworld affairs and breach of Otherworld Laws. From my seat in the Choir, I had no options to change the injustices. From my seat at this table, I do.”

  The Fire Demon laughed. “Things never change. Light get strawberries and orgasms. Dark get acid and death.”

  Thea folded her hands. “In the past, absolutely, but look at the changes in the past year. Cassiane, Mistress of Shedim, moved her people out of Hell, and instituted a way to feed on flesh and blood which didn’t break with Otherworld Laws. The human quotas remain intact yet her corporation, DonorWatch, now feeds not only her people but any flesh-eater or blood-drinker who asks for help.”

 

‹ Prev