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

by JL Madore

  “What of her crimes?”

  Zander folded his mighty arms across his chest, his biceps stretching the cotton of his black t-shirt to its limit. “There are serious issues to be addressed, but Bo’s right. Layne can’t be dispatched to Hell for her treachery. It would be a death sentence to him as well. She’s his mate.”

  Bo waited for the Djinn Master’s anger. Instead, he burst out laughing. With a hand against his chest, he tipped his head back and let off a real belly bouncer.

  When the jocularity continued, Zander started to look worried. “Are you all right, Gheil? Do you understand what this means?”

  Gheil wiped the moisture from his eyes and sobered. “I understand. Welcome to my Hell, Viking. You will mate her properly in keeping with our traditions, and then accept responsibility for her. I cannot forgive her working against me, and I will not have her as part of our community when she disrespects me as her Master.”

  Bo struggled to keep up. Gheil was washing his hands of Layne. Shit. He didn’t think he’d go that far.

  “I wish you all the strength and patience of the Darkworld. You’ll need it. I love my sister, but she is willful, obstinate, and shortsighted. She will hate this more than you know and deem you another evil male out to control her life.”

  Bo wasn’t looking forward to the courting either but figured he faced off against deadly and violent demons every night—how bad could it be?

  “Honestly,” Gheil said, opening his palms, “this is a relief. Layne will live, and no longer fall under my rule. Treason against the Master holds violent punishment, but now I don’t have to be the iron fist in her life. You may pack her things and take her this night.”

  Bo sighed, not sure how to take that. “Thank you?”

  Gheil offered him his hand and clasped it after they shook. “Layne is passionate and committed to her convictions. Unfortunately, after the death of our nephew, she’s grown more disillusioned by the day. She wants someone to pay for the boy’s death and blames us for not finding those responsible.”

  Zander shook his head and sighed. “We’re on it, but not everything happens at the snap of our fingers.”

  Gheil nodded. “Jhaia and I understand that, but Layne is still a pampered child in many ways. Perhaps, Bo, you will make strides in areas where I have failed. I shall have Jhaia begin the mating preparations.”

  Bo wasn’t sure where the crazy train had gone off the rails, but somehow, he had the blessing of the Djinn Master to mate his sister. Huh. Maybe he really should be worried.

  “May I give you some advice on how to begin?”

  Bo nodded. “Please. I’m all ears.”

  The force of Layne’s panic left her weak and terribly unsteady. She hadn’t realized how much she undervalued her life in the living plane, but the terror of being trapped by the Watchers left an imprint she would never forget. “What’s going to happen to me?”

  Jhaia pulled back from their embrace, her eyes red from tears. “Hush. Don’t think about—”

  The boisterous laughter of their brother in the next room had them both confused. Gheil rarely found humor in something, and when he did, he certainly didn’t laugh like that.

  Jhaia shifted off the bed. “What’s going on out there?”

  Layne wiped her face with the end of the bed sheet and drew a shuddering breath. The Watchers had discovered her, tracked her down, and were there to punish her.

  Gheil and Jhaia had every right to be furious beyond reason, yet while her sister wept with her, her brother laughed. Everyone in the Darkworld knew the penalty for acting against the Watchers. She had forfeited her life. She’d thought herself smarter than them, cunning enough to operate as Déjà in her dealings with the rebels, and Layne with her family.

  Neima warned her she was cocky.

  How could Gheil find it funny? She recognized she wasn’t the easiest person to love, and Gheil had little use for her, but to laugh at her undoing? That was cold.

  “Something’s going on,” Jhaia said, peeking out the door. “Zander looks angry, but Bo and Gheil seem to be coming to some kind—yes, Gheil’s shaking his hand.”

  What did that mean?

  “Layne,” her brother shouted from the other room. “Stop licking your wounds and get out here.”

  Layne slid out of her bed, and after a quick trip into the bathroom, she grabbed a thick sweater and wrapped herself in the soft knit. Stepping into her living room, the incredible power of the Nephilim warriors overwhelmed.

  More than brawny brutes, they exuded an energy that spoke of the power they held in reserve. Magic. Gifts from the Choir. However you defined it, they consumed the attention of a room. Having four of them in her apartment, three of them sporting massive ebony wings, ate up the space.

  “First off,” Gheil said, his voice hard, “if the punishment for your crimes against the Watchers didn’t result in death, I wouldn’t get involved to soften the blow. It’s high time you became accountable for your actions.”

  No big surprise. Gheil’s disappointment and disapproval were constant since they were kids. The threat of death stung, but something inside her clung to the hope that the if meant that despite his anger, he’d fixed this.

  “What you did offends me as your ruler, as your brother, and as a Djinn. If I could strip you of the privileges of your gift for it, I would.”

  Layne glared up at him. This was the Gheil she hated. The male dominant, condescending ass, who lorded himself over her without even asking for her side of things.

  She bit her lip, fighting not to interrupt.

  “Zander and I have come to an agreement. You’ll tell him everything you know of the rebels, their plans, and their whereabouts, and you live. You are their prisoner and shall remain as such until you comply. Jhaia, pack her a bag. She’s leaving and won’t be coming back.”

  What? “You’re letting them take me?”

  Gheil propped his hands on his hips. “You disobeyed my directives. You disrespected me as your Master. If you weren’t my sister, I would have killed you already. As it is, you’re no longer my problem.”

  Everything in her wanted to argue. To scream he should be on her side. She did this for the Djinn because he’d been weak and gotten into bed with the enemy.

  Okay, so technically that was her.

  Shame hit her squarely in the chest and stung her eyes. All eyes were on her. They all knew the lengths she’d gone to, that she’d whored herself to get what she needed.

  “You violated this male in the most heinous of betrayals. To usurp a male’s mind and body for evil intent is not what the Djinn are about. The fallout from your actions is yours to bear alone.”

  She kept her gaze away from the Viking. It didn’t matter if she looked at him or not. Every cell in her body vibrated with bizarre awareness. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything. She didn’t believe what he said on that ship.

  She wasn’t magically his mate and struck by instalove.

  Either her self-destructive side had risen to the surface like a moth to a flame, or he had reversed the mental manipulation and now she suffered from the effects.

  Despite having good reasons for her actions, she regretted the level of invasion she’d taken. Djinn were taught to respect the privacy of people’s thoughts. With an entire species that could access the deepest reaches of a mind, there had to be levels of appropriate behavior and courtesy.

  She ignored them. What did it matter? He was just a filthy Watcher assassin, right? Except, he wasn’t the hateful killer she believed them all to be.

  “Layne?” Gheil said. “Tell the commander everything.”

  Jhaia came out of her bedroom with a tote and a backpack. Her sister looked sad and confused; then again, she likely didn’t know the whole story yet. Layne didn’t want to be there when she found out.

  “Fine. I’ll go. I accept imprisonment and ostracization, but I won’t rat out the others. If you want to squash the rebellion, the Watchers will have to do t
heir job for once and figure it out.”

  Gheil’s brow creased as he scowled. “I assured them you would cooperate. He’s offering you survival.”

  She tilted her head and grinned. “You’ve never understood me, brother. If you imagined me as a filthy snitch, you never will. No deal. I’d rather be dispatched with my character intact than cave and betray my convictions.”

  “Layne?” Jhaia snapped, dropping her belongings onto the table. “Don’t be so sanctimonious. You’re the one at fault here. The Watchers are offering you an opportunity to make amends.”

  Layne shrugged, disappointed that not even her sister thought more of her. “They can imprison me for life, and I’ll never be sorry for the part I played in this. Taid deserved to have someone fighting for him. You two are too far up their assholes to see that I did what you wouldn’t.”

  “No,” the Sumerian said, stalking forward. “You’re too naïve to recognize that you don’t know shit. Do you think sneaking out at night and playing Darkworlder spy gives you an insight into the evils in our world, little girl? Wrong.”

  She looked waaaay up at the Sumerian. “Do you think I’m too delicate to play a valued part in an uprising? Why, because I’m a female? You alpha males are all the same. I succeeded because you people underestimate a pretty face.”

  “You’re dabbling in war while you live in a fucking gated community, wealthy, and gifted with the security of your brother’s position. Think you’ve got it all figured out? You don’t know shit. What we’re trying to do with this council is so far over your head, it’s pathetic.”

  “No,” Layne snapped, jabbing her finger into the air between her and the Sumerian. “Thinking you can gag our people with your rhetoric about change and listening to the concerns of Darkworlders is pathetic. Your ego is so big, you don’t even get what a joke you are.”

  The male’s wings flared, and the Viking tattoo burst into a brilliant gold. Bo stepped between them, his broad back eclipsing all view of the Watcher commander and the room beyond. “Stand down, Z. I mean it.”

  The other two, the twins, moved in.

  “Okay boys,” one of the Egyptian’s said. “Let’s not get our nads in a knot. I want to see the bitch fry for putting my wife in danger too, but there’s nothing to settle here and now. Bo’s got the girl, Z. Let’s back out and see where the chips fall.”

  Layne didn’t like the insinuation she was the chip in that scenario, but wasn’t stupid enough to say so. Instead, she remained screened behind the Viking’s massive body.

  The second Egyptian’s snapped his fingers to break the locked gaze between the two and followed up by flashing his hands in the air. Was that sign language? Wasn’t that the one that spoke to her in Bo’s dream? Or was that the other one.

  Man, how did people tell them apart.

  “Zandros, leave us,” Bo growled, his neck and arms glowing like the brightest star. “Egyptians, you stay. I need five minutes.”

  She doubted the mighty Sumerian would stand down for anyone, but after a tense few seconds, Zander stepped outside.

  When the door latched, and three warriors stared at her, she wished she could shrink into her bed and pull the covers over her head. Except, she couldn’t. Good or bad, this was her bed, and she needed to lie in it.

  The twins stood side by side, like a pair of hostile Egyptian bookends.

  Bo turned to the one who could speak. “I’m sorry to put you in this position, my brother. Telling her the way things went down will be like shouting in a windstorm. She won’t hear what I’m saying, and I’ll get windburn from trying.”

  Seth pursed his lips. “Phoenix will pull her from my head if she tries anything. If she does,” he said, turning his stare to her, “he’ll trap her and take justice into his own hands.”

  Bo nodded but then turned to glare at her. “She won’t try anything. This is observation only. No access, except to the memory of the night her nephew died. No alteration or manipulation of any kind.”

  Seth raised a brow. “It sounds more like you’re threatening her than assuring me.”

  And she got the message. For a chance to see what happened to Taid, she’d behave. “It’s fine. Show me your side of things. I promise to play nice.”

  Seth exhaled and threw up his hands. “Fine. How are we doing this.”

  Layne sat Seth in the chair and stepped behind him. Phoenix sat on the sofa and locked his sights on her. That he didn’t need to touch her or be within ten feet of her showed how terrifyingly powerful the Watcher’s dark magic was.

  She allowed him access, rankling at the invasion while she, in turn, invaded his twin’s mind. “Take me to that night. You’re walking into the warehouse. What do you see?”

  With her fingers gently pressing on his temples, Layne completed the connection and slipped inside the memory. There was no need to go deep into his emotions, like she had to do with Bo, because he allowed her entrance.

  “I’m right here with you,” Phoenix said, walking through the memory at her side. “If you even so much as sneeze, I’ll lock your mind up so tight, you’ll never find a path to sanity.”

  “I just want the truth,” she said, following behind Seth and a black warrior as they searched the back of a warehouse.

  “We gave you the truth,” Phoenix said, his voice hard and graveled at her ear.

  Layne ignored the tone and studied the scene before her.

  Rows of steel cages, the victims in each long dead. Seth found Taid, bound to a wheelchair, his head shaved, and locked in metal torture gear. He was weak, the toll of his capture clear in the hollows of his usually bright eyes.

  “I’m getting you out of there, kid. Stay with me.”

  Seth severed the lock on Taid’s cage, and they moved inside, cautious, checking for danger. He raised his stone light against the darkness and highlighted a row of silver tubes along the steel framing. The tubes were bundled along the wall, wired together in a long sequence, like linked sausage.

  “Hark, what do you make of that?”

  The other warrior joined him and studied the lit-up wall. He straightened and tapped his earpiece. “We’ve got pipe bombs rigged like dominoes back here. Looks like a trip trigger, but there could be a remote.”

  Someone growled in their ears. “Everyone, fall back. Now.”

  As the black warrior started his retreat, Seth pushed into the cage and went for Taid.

  “Don’t,” Hark snapped. “Z said now.”

  “I’m not leaving him.” Seth cut the bindings on Taid’s bony wrists and ankles. “You go. I’m right behind you.”

  His partner cursed and went to work trying to free his head. “Look at him. He’s dead already.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But he’s somebody’s son and deserves a chance to get home.”

  Once Taid’s head was free, the black warrior evacuated the cage. Seth slung Taid over his shoulder, and the minute he lifted him, the chair let off a high-pitched whine.

  “That can’t be good.” Seth bolted as fast as his powerful legs could propel him, racing after his partner as the world around them burst into shrapnel. The ping and crash of metal debris deafened. As the first shards pierced his flesh, he gasped. “Red metal.”

  He pushed for the back exit. His thighs and arms burned as poisonous missiles shredded his muscles. The paralytic of the alloy took hold, and he went down, pain exploding from everywhere all at once.

  “Stay in the memory,” Phoenix said to his brother. “Take us to when you woke in the clinic.”

  Seth woke on a cold, steel table with a medical light over him. Thea was there. She helped him into a gown. ”Rest now,” she said, trying to settle him. “You don’t want to overdo it and hurt yourself.”

  “Don’t care . . . the boy . . . the Djinn?”

  She shook her head. “I am sorry. Drina could not save him. She barely saved you.”

  Seth closed his eyes, the pain of loss and regret detonating in his chest. “I really wanted . . . he didn’t
deserve to die alone.”

  Thea collected his fisted hand in her own. “The Djinn child died free from his tormentors and in the arms of a male who cared about his well-being. It could have been worse.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Bo thanked his brothers and ushered them to the door. Seth did the right thing to clear Zander from the room. He’d also done him a solid to take that walk down memory lane. Zander stood outside, a lit cigarette between his fingers. He nodded to his commander and wondered if there would be fallout on that front. He didn’t have the energy to worry about it right now.

  He shut himself in Layne’s apartment. Alone with his female, he allowed his muscles to unlock and his beast some freedom.

  “So, what’s your story now? Are you my mate or my jailor?” Layne stared at him, her gaze an equal part spooked terror and iron will.

  The bottoms of the chair leg brushed over the tile floor as he ass-planted and tried to re-plug into his control. “I’m your something.”

  “I won’t apologize. Nephilim made themselves the enemy of the Darkworld from the beginning. Despite what he showed me, there are thousands of examples of you being violent bullies who get off on torturing daemons you deem beneath you. The world will be a better place when you’re gone.”

  Her words pierced the tender flesh of his heart, and he couldn’t help but flinch. The disdain in her voice dripped like acid into the wound, and he didn’t know her well enough to reason with her.

  Getting up, he strode to the fridge and opened the door. Thank the goddess she wasn’t a vegetarian. He couldn’t imagine getting paired up with a female who expected him to eat tofu before hitting the streets.

  Unlike the species who fed on the flesh, blood, or spirit of humans, Djinn fed on mental energy. For that reason, they were social and often very involved in human society. It also meant they’d never been forced to live in Purgatory like many of the other races.

  The Djinn Master recognized they led a blessed existence and didn’t want to rock that boat. Layne didn’t understand how spoiled she was.

  “Since we’re going to be roomies for the foreseeable future,” Bo said, closing the fridge, “maybe we should start with the basics. What’s your stance on pizza?”