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

by JL Madore

  She smiled over to Cassi, sitting tall with both Dougal and Kyrian standing behind her chair.

  “And the sudden change of heart?” the Shadow Caster Queen asked. The woman, dark-skinned and regal, shared a strong family resemblance to Storme. Only, Storme wasn’t a bitch and didn’t look like she just sucked a dozen lemons.

  “Watcher assassins came into my home,” she continued, “electrocuted my husband, and left us without a king. Now, because they have families and children they don’t want to be targeted, now they want to find another way?”

  Thea smiled and folded her hands together on the table. “At the time your husband was killed, he was attempting to rape your niece. She was being held against her will and screaming for him to release her.”

  The female bristled. “Drenik was a good man and a strong king. Watchers had no right to invade our home and assassinate him.”

  Thea laid her hands flat on the table before her and smiled. “Despite Darkworld perception, Nephilim don’t kill without cause. They fight for a world where innocent girls don’t get dragged into dark rooms to be disrespected. Where sons don’t starve to a weakened state and die. Where fathers and husbands aren’t so desperate to save their families that they—”

  The front door burst open at the same time a swarm of masked intruders rushed in from the back hall.

  Bo tapped the receiver to activate the comm in his ear. Nothing. Fuck.

  Zander and Phoenix rushed out to the living room. He reached for his guns but remembered they were unarmed.

  “All of you, into the corner,” Kyrian said, grabbing Cassi and all but tossing her against the back wall of the room. Seth did the same with Thea, and the Reapers, Shadow Caster Queen, and the Oracles followed suit. The Shades dissolved through the ceiling and were gone. The Fire Demon flamed up, his palms igniting. And Dougal, Colt, Rayvn, and Wilder headed out into the living room.

  Kyrian and Seth took position in front of the group in the corner and opened their wings, blocking off all visual of anyone behind them.

  “Fuck, Viking,” Seth shouted. “Get out there and help.”

  Bo blinked. He’d frozen and his brothers were in the thick of things. Shaking his head clear, he bolted out into the fray. He rushed one of the guy’s pommeling Colt

  Grabbing him by the scruff, Bo hauled him off.

  He saw the right cross coming but didn’t get a block up in time. The punch knocked him over the back of one of the couches. He scrambled to his feet and tackled his attacker to the floor. Rearing back, he followed through and his fist connected to the carpet? What? Had the guy moved?

  With his head pounding and his heart racing, he gripped the guy by the shirt and poof, he was gone. Jumping up to look around, he saw his brothers all with empty hands as well. “Where’d they go?”

  “They bugged out,” Colt said, his eyes glowing.

  “Why?” Zander said. “How’d they get in? Why didn’t we get a head’s up?”

  Bo opened his gift up and nudged the mechanicals of their comm systems. Things came online with Brennus shouting in their ears.

  “Cannae get the elevator to work. What the fuck’s happenin’ up there? Someone respond.”

  “At ease, Celt,” Zander said, assessing the damage. “We’re all in one piece. Let’s get everyone home, and we’ll meet up in the war room.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Brennus sat on the loading dock of the club, freezing his ass off and smoking like a chimney. Lifting his cigarette to his lips, he watched the heater dance against the night sky, his hands unsteady. It had been centuries since a battle gave him the shakes, but there you have it.

  A silver Mercedes pulled into the parking lot on the quick and two people got out. “You okay, Red?”

  Shit. He’d taken perimeter duty to avoid a run-in with the cop and keep focused on the task at hand. When the shit hit, he’d felt his brothers in trouble with no way to get to them. “Yeah, I’m good. Now’s not the best time for visitors, lass.”

  Storme tightened the belt on her jacket and smiled. “I was giving Jack a ride home when I heard what happened. I figured I’d swing by to make sure Phoenix had things under control.”

  Brennus heard the worry behind the words. Tonight, Phoenix’s dark powers were the least of their worries. “He’s got things well in hand, luv. No worries there.”

  “Hello again,” the lad riding shotgun said.

  As preoccupied as he’d been, he hadn’t even noticed the spiffy young man she’d been taking home was the looker from the Lily Dale hotel. “Hello, handsome,” he said, repeating his greeting from their first encounter. “Have ye come to visit yer old boss?”

  He shook his head, the golden layers of his hair catching the wind like something you’d see in a mushy girl movie. “I moved here to be her assistant.”

  “Did ye now? Weel, isn’t that the best news I’ve heard all night.”

  Storme patted his knee. “If you two are all right chatting for a few minutes, I’d still like to go check in with my man.”

  “Take yer time, luv,” Brennus said, hopping down to the level of the parking lot, a second wind coming on strong. “So, how do ye like Toronto, laddie?”

  The two of them shot the shit for a few, and Brennus’s tension eased. More than a pretty face, Jack had an educated wit to him he hadn’t realized. The only conversation he and his brothers got into was demon business, weapons, big engines, and fast vehicles. It was refreshing to speak to a young man who could converse on another level.

  “Weel, if yer a foodie, yer lucky we met. I just so happen to frequent all the best restaurants ye’ll never hear about.”

  “So, am I fortunate enough to be on the inside track?” Jack raised brow brought the double-entendre home.

  “It just so happens—”

  Zander emerged with the group from upstairs and Brennus straightened up. The kid took in his bloody brothers-in-arms, the three flamenco dancer drag queens, and the cop—whose eyes were glowing that fucking cerulean blue.

  Damn. Those neon pupils got him rocking every time.

  Such a bad idea.

  Zander and the evac gang gave him a nod and then carried on past.

  The only one of them who gave him a look that lingered was the cop. Yeah, he was wired from the fight and likely looking to burn off the energy. If he didn’t raise a hand, there would be a dozen other males or females who would.

  “Celt, we’re headed back to the ranch to debrief. You’ve got ten minutes.”

  “That’s disappointing,” Jack said, nodding to Storme that he was on his way back to the car. “Raincheck on the tour of the town?”

  “Lookin’ forward to it, lad.” Brennus lifted his hand to his lips and bit his knuckle. The low chuckle from the darkness came right from the place he’d last seen the cop. “Safe home to you both.”

  He knocked on the trunk of the Mercedes as Storme drove away and then sauntered into the shadows. There, leaning against the wall of the club, was one very jazzed Ice Demon.

  “You’re on your game tonight, Red. The kid’s cute. Might want to wait until he’s old enough to drink though. It’s a bitch getting a high chair on a Friday night.”

  Brennus laughed, shifting his stance to adjust what was happening behind his fly. “Age is only a number, cop. What matters is how good he is in bed.”

  “And how good is he?” Colt asked, those eyes glowing brighter.

  Man, Brennus’s cock was fully hard and aching. “Do I look like a male who’d fuck and tell.”

  “Ah, so you haven’t got that far yet.”

  “But I will.”

  “He’s a child.”

  “He’s simplicity in a complicated world. He’s also sweet and a good conversationalist—”

  Colt pushed him back against the next building, opened the sides of Brennus’s jacket, unzipped his leathers, and shoved his gloved hand down in. “I’m going to suck you off, Celt. You’ll fucking see stars. Then, after your meeting with Z, you’ll come
to my place, and I’ll fuck you blind. How’s that for a convo?”

  The question was rhetorical because before he could answer, Colt was on his knees and deep-throating him like a fucking demon. Shite. He braced his shoulders against the building and thrust his cock into the greedy suck and pull of Colt’s mouth as the guy went to town.

  “Such a bad idea,” Brennus mumbled, his chest heaving.

  Colt seemed to disagree because his pants got shoved down his thighs to give more access.

  Brennus wasn’t a gentleman. He fucked Colt’s mouth, giving as good as he got. His orgasm burned at the root of his cock, his spine alive with electrical current. When the demon’s fangs dropped, the nick of teeth and his sensitive skin did him in. He thrust forward, abs tight and his breath escaping in rough gasps.

  Throwing his head back, he growled at the night sky, hot jets releasing down the cop’s throat. “Fuck that’s good, Though, I dinnae see stars. Ye may have overestimated—”

  The twist of his sac nearly buckled his knees, but it was the invasive thumb that caught his breath. He stiffened against the brick, and his eyes rolled back. That thumb, angled just right, stroked his prostate hard and fast.

  The second orgasm hit on the heels of the first. Colt milked him, swallowing his cream with a feral growl that did something to his insides.

  When the demon straightened, his eyes glowed neon, and his fangs extended longer than he’d ever seen.

  “Ye can’t—” Brennus breathed. “Don’t do it.”

  There was no stopping him. Colt lunged forward, more demon than man, knocking him to the ground and sinking his teeth into his neck. The piercing of canines through flesh stung like a bastard, and then the burn hit him straight in the crotch. His spent cock hardened rock solid in an instant.

  Hello, Viagra. Are ye jealous?

  No recovery time needed when yer lover was possessed. It wasn’t passion. This was savage.

  “Colton,” Brennus protested, pushing at the male’s chest. “What if I’m poison to ye?”

  Colt didn’t hear him. Mounted on him, feeding in gluttonous pulls, he dry-humped Brennus through his jeans. The man was gone. He was nothing but sex. Nothing but need.

  Brennus managed to get his hand between them and got the male’s pants open. Stroking him off distracted him enough to get him to pull out of his bite. Brennus rolled him to the side and pumped him like a jack-hammer.

  “Come now, cop. Let me ease ye.”

  And he did. The cop back-flatted on the pavement and shuddered. Casting two solid beams of blue light up toward the sky, he came in violent waves. Not once. Not twice. But in multiple convulsions of a silver, sticky cum that chill Brennus’s skin and smelled like a heady musk.

  It wasn’t something he’d ever smelled before. It was sexy, and it woke something inside him.

  Colt pinched his eyes shut and scowled. ”That shouldn’t have happened.”

  “Agreed, but there was no stoppin’ ye.” The cop had grown wicked strong all riled up. ”Are ye feelin’ okay now though?”

  Colt leapt to his feet. Covered in blood and cum and filth from rolling on the floor, he still looked feral. And sexy as hell. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

  Brennus held up his palms, standing there with his leathers at his knees as Colt backed away and ran. “All right then, Cop. Take a breather. Likely a good idea.”

  Layne waited in the warehouse with Gideon, Linsale, and the blonde Dimme bitch, Xamia. While the three of them chatted about the next phase of the plan, she stayed quiet. Neima’s counsel was supposed to help her sort things out. Instead, she was more on edge and confused now than she’d been earlier. She wasn’t reckless, was she? She wasn’t conceited enough to think she was top of the heap, but she did value her talents. She should. She could do some crazy, amazing things.

  She would figure out how to eradicate the Viking from her system on her own. The situation was her doing and she accepted responsibility for that. The only silver lining to the whole mess was that he had no memory of her. There was no way he could track anything going on in his mind back to her.

  She made sure of that.

  “Déjà, what sssay you?”

  Layne shook her head and pushed her mental turmoil to the background. “As good as it is to make plans, there’s no point until we know for sure that my control over the Watcher took root. Was he compelled to follow my instructions? His mind is strong.”

  She fought to get behind his defenses. In any other situation, she would have been certain her programming worked. With Bo—and after Neima’s lecture about her being cocky—she wasn’t sure.

  Funny. As children, the bedtime stories and tales to keep young in line were always about the ruthless assassins dispatching you in the night. The Sumerian’s brutality. The Moor’s sure aim. The Persian’s violent fury. There were a dozen horror stories for each Watcher from each garrison.

  It was the stuff of legends.

  Tanek, the Watcher she met the other night with Jhaia, protected the child with a swift fierceness she expected. But that was it. He protected the child—from her. Of all the twisted realities.

  She would never harm a child.

  Hunted as a young girl herself, those scars never faded. That Taid, an innocent child himself, was caught up in the war drove her to a panicked rage. It had to stop.

  That’s what Jhaia said too.

  Layne understood where her sister’s motivation lay. It definitely had to stop. She erred in trusting that Nephilim assassins could hold Darkworlders in any light except full-on contempt. Taking those brutes out of the equation was the best and quickest way to ensure Darkworlders survived.

  “They’re back,” Gideon said, leaning into the doorway on his way to join the black masked troupe.

  She jumped up and joined the others. “How did it go?”

  “Like clockwork,” one male said, pulling off his ski mask. “The doors were unlocked. The elevators were locked out. And we had no issues with them calling for backup because their communications were jammed.”

  Gideon’s triumphant grin sent a chill up her spine. “Well done, Déjà. It ssseems the Viking is little more than a puppet on your ssstrings.”

  It didn’t work like that, but the truth didn’t matter to these people. Mind control was art. It took finesse and skill. She wasn’t a puppeteer. She was a conductor of a finely tuned orchestra.

  “All right,” Gideon said, hushing the excitement of the fighters. “We sssent our warning and showed that not even the mighty Watchersss can protect Darkworld traitors who participate in this council.”

  “Next, we hit them where they’re most vulnerable.” Xamia spat on the floor.

  Gideon’s snakes writhed and hissed, their excitement obvious. “Thanksss to Déjà, we know they live together, and we know where.”

  Layne forced a smile. The praise brought the acid burn of vomit up the back of her throat. Why? She should have been gloating for a job well done.

  “Think of it,” Gideon said, rubbing his hands together. “All the little birdsss in one vulnerable nest.”

  “I want the babies,” Xamia said, licking her lips. “They murdered my daughter over the Egyptian’s brat. I want to suck that child dry and spit out the blood.”

  What? The babies? “Our war is with the Watchers. We’re killing the assassins before they kill us.”

  Gideon shrugged. “What’sss the harm in planning a few bonusss incentivesss along the way.”

  “What do you suppose Watcher baby tastes like?” Xamia asked, a cruel smile curving her lips. “I honestly don’t even care. As long as they’re dead in the end.”

  What about Taid’s essence?

  If what Layne saw in that baby’s eyes wasn’t a trick, her nephew could be destroyed forever if Xamia drained him. Was it possible Taid gifted a part of himself to the child? He would’ve needed to trust the Egyptian a great deal during a chance meeting, and the Egyptian would’ve had to care deeply about him in return.

 
; She didn’t see how that was possible.

  “Yesss, yesss,” Gideon said, his snakes swaying in every direction. “The Dimme Queen has dibbs on the two newborns. And I want the Sumerian’s wife. Zander ordered my people slaughtered. I’ll take what’s his.”

  Layne didn’t care what happened to the Watchers, that was war, but the women and children? The Djinn had lost enough innocents over the years to know those were unacceptable losses.

  “Next ssstep, Déjà,” Gideon hissed. “Compel your Watcher to give usss accessss to the property and home sssecurity.”

  Her Watcher? Bo wasn’t hers.

  Images of their time together filled her head and for reasons she couldn’t understand, her heart ached for him.

  “Home security,” Gideon repeated. “When can we expect to strike.”

  Layne met the expectant gazes of the leaders in the room and for the first time, realized how dangerous this group was—and how quickly they’d turn on her if she failed them.

  “If my suggestions held firm, his mind will be open for my next assignment. I’ll let you know once that’s set.”

  Leaving the masses to their celebration, she grabbed her jacket and headed home. After pulling up her hood, she stuffed her hands in her pockets and began the twenty-minute walk back to her subway stop. One day, she’d learn how to drive.

  Not that Gheil would like it. As Djinn royalty, it was beneath her to drive a car. Ha. If he knew she was walking the streets alone at night, he’d shit a litter of kittens.

  The idea of making him crazy had always appealed to her more than it should—fucking patriarchy.

  Tonight, however, she kinda wished she’d stayed home and taken a more traditional female role. Baked some brownies. Read a good book by the fire. Maybe toss the book and snuggle up with a male for the night.

  Instantly, her mind supplied her with the male of choice and her body ignited. No. Not him.

  Maybe once Gideon and his strike team eliminated Bo, she’d finally find some peace. Swiping at the tears burning hot on her cheek, she cursed. She wasn’t crying.