by ML Guida
She shook her head. “No, I won’t leave him.”
Balthazar held out his hand. “Leave him. He’s hell hound puppy food.”
Cupid glared. She wanted to summon all the hate inside her, but she couldn’t do it. It wasn’t in her. She was full of love and compassion.
Lethal’s last words echoed in her ears.
Believe in yourself.
Two more hell hounds stood on either side of Lethal, their eyes greedy for angel flesh. The hound she shot blocked their path. She had at least one ally.
A third one lunged out of the flames and then yelped. It fell onto with an arrow embedded in its thick neck.
“Hello Balthazar.”
Both Cupid and Balthazar looked up at the burning bleaches. Arrow stood with another arrow primed in his bow. She’d never been so glad to see anyone in her life. Her prayers had been answered!
Balthazar’s face paled, and he gripped his sword. “Kill him, you fools! Vixen, where are you?”
Vixen stood in the flames. “I’m going for help.” But she wasn’t looking at Balthazar. She was looking at Arrow.
Balthazar clenched his teeth. “Traitorous, bitch.”
Cupid smiled. Were both Balthazar and Vixen afraid of Arrow?
Hell hounds and ghost demons rushed toward Arrow, howling and snarling. Arrows whizzed through the air. Hell hounds howled, and ghost demons screeched.
Balthazar sheathed his sword. He rushed toward Cupid. Determination flared in his eyes. “You’re coming with me, Cupid.”
Lethal’s words popped into her mind. She had to believe in herself or evil would defeat her. God said that love was the most powerful gift of all. Time to believe in his word rather than quoting it. She drew on the love inside her, smothering the fear and hate, and scampered to her feet, blocking Lethal from Balthazar’s sword. “No, I won’t go with you.”
Balthazar eyed her suspiciously and lowered his sword. “What’s happening to you?”
Tingles swept over her skin. They grew stronger and stronger, seeping into her flesh. Her heart swelled and pumped energy into her veins, something she’d never experienced. She glanced at her bow. It glowed blue like Lethal’s sword, Judgment.
Balthazar’s eyes widened. “Your powers in the bow.” He grabbed the bow and ripped it out of her hand.
“No.” She held up her palm. A bright light burst from her lighting up the entire gym.
The bow brightened in color, turning from bright blue to dark red to pure white, chasing away the darkness. Smoke sizzled around Balthazar’s hand. “What the hell?”
The demon arched his back and cried out like a wounded wildcat caught in a bear trap.
Ghost demons and hell hounds shrieked like a high-pitched bird of prey and scurried away from Arrow and Cupid, retreating further into the shadows and melting into blackness.
The bow flew out of Balthazar’s hand and into hers. When she clasped it, an overwhelming power of love, forgiveness, and compassion ballooned through her as if it had been dormant for too long. Her body shook, and energy flowed out of her fingertips.
Balthazar held his burnt wrist. “I swear you’ll pay for that, bitch.”
Cupid studied him. She could now see through what was inside him. He didn’t have a soul, but he actually had feelings, feelings that she’d never thought he’d have. He wasn’t all evil. He had other feelings besides hate, anger, and resentment. Loneliness was hidden deep inside him, as if he was trying to deny it existed.
She cocked an eyebrow. “Are you lonely, Balthazar?”
Arrow landed next to her. He sneered. “How quaint. A lonely demon. Don’t you have any friends, Balthazar?”
Balthazar stuck out his chin. “I need no one.”
“That’s not true, Balthazar. I can see into you. You feel alone in hell and grow weary of all the evilness lurking there. You want something pure, just to experience it.”
“Are you offering to warm my bed?” Balthazar drawled, flashing his gaze over her. “By all means, come with me.”
Cupid shook her head then raised her palm again. Power flowed through her, and a brilliant white light beamed out of her hand. “For trying to kill my mate, I leave you with your loneliness. Be gone, demon.”
Balthazar winced and shielded his eyes with his arm. “Don’t you want to know how I knew about your power?”
Something in his voice sent chills down her back. She glanced at Arrow.
“Don’t believe him. He’s a liar.”
Balthazar laughed. “Why don’t you ask your sister, Cupid? She’s the traitor.”
The light circled him, encasing him in a bubble. His laughter turned into a mournful howl, lonelier than any coyote’s song. If it had been any other demon, angel, or human, Cupid might have felt sorry for him, but he’d tried to kill the man she loved.
The bubble popped, and Balthazar vanished.
Cupid lowered her hand and panted. She shook uncontrollably. Arrow held her arm. Without him, she’d fallen on her butt.
“Arrow, do you think he was telling the truth about Venus?”
Arrow clamped his jaw.
Cupid wiped the sweat off her brow. “No, it can’t be true.”
Arrow gestured toward Lethal. “We have to get Lethal to Raphael. He’s the only one who can save him.” “We’re mated, Arrow. Only I can heal him. You know that.”
He muttered something under his breath that Cupid couldn’t make out, but she thought she heard, “he’s dead.” His lack of faith was overwhelming. No wonder he’d retreated deep within himself.
Chapter 10
Cupid scanned the torn up gymnasium and her heart sank. Valentine decorations were shredded. A deep crevice and burnt marks marred the floor, but what struck fear in her heart was the pool of blood on the tile––Lethal’s blood. There was so much.
She wiped a tear off her cheek and bit her trembling lip. The hellhound nuzzled her leg. Its features had changed, reminding her of an overgrown wolf.
Arrow grabbed Lethal’s sword.
“No.” She grabbed Arrow’s wrist. “He’s a friend.”
“Are you kidding? That’s a hellhound.”
She stroked the beast’s fur. “Not anymore. His fur has changed from black to silver. Look at his eyes. Their silver not red.”
Arrow tossed Lethal over his shoulder. “Are you sure you can heal him? He’s badly wounded.”
Blood dripped down Lethal’s shoulder, mixing into his hair. He was limp, and his arms hung down like loose vines. She strained to hear his breath, but it was faint, too faint.
She nodded. “Yes, I’m sure.” Or at least, she’d hoped so.
He sighed. “Where do you want to go?”
“To the pond in the jungle. It’s where we were first mated.” She hoped she sounded braver than the doubt clouding her mind. What if she was wrong? Arrow was right. If this proved false, Lethal would die. A deep emptiness swelled in her heart at the thought of losing her brave angel.
“Fine.” Arrow’s hard voice made Cupid wince.
She had to heal Lethal. She had to be strong enough. She couldn’t lose him. Not now.
Cupid met Arrow’s anxious gaze. “He has faith in me.” She looked around at the disarray of the gym. “What about the humans? We can’t let Balthazar and his minions take their wrath out on them.”
“They won’t. I’ll return.” His eyes darkened. “I’ll bring reinforcements.”
She nodded. “Don’t wait too long.”
A metal door swung open and slammed against the wall. Cupid jumped. She held her breath, waiting for Balthazar to reappear, but she could only make out teenagers huddled together, including Kristyn and Bobby. A soft breeze blew the torn crepe paper across the blood-splattered gym floor, and the last remaining decorations floated down like feathers. Goosebumps broke out on Cupid’s arms.
Lethal smiled. “I don’t think I have to worry about it.”
Michael flashed into the gym his large frame filling the doorway. He clutched his sword, E
xcalibur. He scanned the gym, and then focused on them. “Get Lethal out of here. It’s not finished yet. Vixen and Balthazar will return soon with reinforcements. We will take care of it.”
The hellhound growled.
She smiled. “Don’t attack. He’s an archangel.”
The wolf looked up at her and stopped growling.
Michael lifted his eyebrow. “Interesting. You changed him?”
She eased in front of the beast. “Yes, please don’t hurt him.”
“I won’t. He can fight for our team.”
Four more Dark Angels appeared, swords drawn, including the brothers Scythe and Blade. These were warriors, men she wasn’t familiar with and didn’t want to know about. Fighting demons were not her style. Cupid was definitely out of her league, regardless of her new power.
As if reading her mind, Scythe smiled. With his good looks, he put most movie stars to shame. “You need to heal our brother as only an angel-mate can.”
Warmth flared on Cupid’s cheeks. Sex was definitely the key to healing.
“I suggest you leave,” Scythe said.
“Follow me.” Arrow flew into the air.
Cupid didn’t hesitate and followed. The clear night had turned stormy. Dark clouds hid the moon.
Arrow glanced over his shoulder. “Show me where you want to go.”
She didn’t want to be in front; she wanted to be in back to make sure Lethal was alive, but Arrow didn’t know the way. She soared ahead of him and flapped her wings faster than she ever had before. Heavy rain clouds wet her face and dress, making it cling to her body. The smell of rain was one of her favorite scents, but it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was saving Lethal.
She headed toward Gabriel’s secret door. On Earth, it was near the North Star.
“Love,” the door flashed open.
“Never knew this existed.” Arrow followed her inside.
Cupid grimaced. She just revealed an angel of love secret, but Lethal’s life was more important.
A loud pop sent them both whirling through the barrier between Earth and Heaven. Ignoring her tossing stomach, Cupid led Arrow to the jungle. He never faltered even with the weight of his brother on his back. In heaven, the clouds cleared, replaced by zillions of stars.
Moonlight glistened off the Grand Hall like a soft halo. She almost thought about going to find Raphael, but once mated, the archangel couldn’t heal.
Lethal groaned.
Arrow and Cupid looked at each other. Not a good sign.
“Where is this damn pond?” Arrow growled.
“We’re almost there.”
She headed for the lush jungle.
Palm trees swayed below and nightingales sang their sweet song, leading to her pond. She motioned to Arrow. “Follow me.”
Blood ran down his arm, but it wasn’t his. It was Lethal’s. She wanted to cry out for Raphael, but he couldn’t help. Love was the greatest weapon of all and angels were to trust in it, even if it looked like all hope was lost.
The roar of the waterfall was music to her heart. Birds scattered as she burst through the tree branches and landed on the ledge overlooking the pool where Lethal had stripped and claimed her. Arrow landed next to her and carefully laid his brother on the rock. Dried blood splattered his clothes.
“Are you sure you can do this?”
“Yes.” Sweet Lord, she hoped she could.
He put his palm over Lethal’s mouth. “He’s barely breathing. Why couldn’t you have found a place on Earth?”
She stiffened but tried to ignore the accusatory “it’s your fault if he dies” tone. Arrow was worried about his brother.
Trying not to sound defensive, she said, “Because, here, no demons can attack him.”
He clasped her arm. “If you can’t heal him, promise me, you’ll contact Raphael.”
She nodded. “I promise.”
“I’ve got to help Michael.” Arrow unfurled his wings. “Don’t wait too long. If he dies, I’ll hold you responsible.” He soared into the gray clouds and disappeared.
Cupid shuddered. Having Arrow as an enemy would mean that for the end of her days she’d be looking over her shoulder to make sure she wouldn’t have an arrow embedded in her back.
She knelt next to Lethal and pushed his plastered hair out of his ashen face. “Lethal, can you hear me?”
He didn’t move or answer and only exhaled a shaky breath. Not a good sign. The poison from the hellish sword must be getting stronger. She ripped a strip off her gown and dipped it into the cool pond, then wiped his hot face. “Please, Lethal, hear my voice. Come back to me.”
He parted his bruised lips as if to speak, but only a slight gasp escaped them.
She pressed his hair back and kissed him on the lips, hoping she didn’t hurt him. “I love you. Can you hear me?”
“Yes. Kiss me more.”
She jerked up. His eyes were still closed. Was she imagining it, or had he spoken?
“Lethal?”
She was met with a disappointing silence. Scythe had said she must heal him the angel way, which was mind-blowing sex. But Lethal was hurt so badly it could kill him. She took a deep breath.
Start slow.
Lethal always dressed like he was going to the Academy Awards, and now, with his ripped and bloodied suit, he was dressed as a Walking Dead refugee. She could at least get him out of his ruined clothes. But it wouldn’t be easy. He was a tall and powerful man.
She carefully tugged his jacket down his left arm, which wasn’t hurt. She bit her lip. His right arm was so bloody and the cut on his shoulder so deep—what if she hurt him?
He had said to kiss him more. Maybe it would help. She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. Nothing happened. She ripped his shirt in half, and tears blurred her vision. Black and blue bruises and a long cut marred his magnificent torso. She wiped her wet cheeks and ignored the trepidation pounding into her heart. She ripped another piece of her gown, then dipped it into the pond. She dabbed at the dried blood on his chest with her shaking hand. The beating of his heart was weak against her fingertips and needing to know he’d survive, she pressed her palm against his warm skin. He was still all muscle, hard, and sculpted, and as she moved the wet rag across his flesh, she felt a shiver race through his ravaged body.
He groaned.
She jerked her hand away. “I’m sorry.”
He moved his hand and bunched her dress. His mouth opened, but instead of saying anything, he gasped. His grip tightened, and he said something.
“I can’t hear you.” She pressed her ear to his mouth. “Say it again.”
“Draw on your power.” His voice was weak, like a dying man’s.
She couldn’t believe the faith he had in her. It was humbling, but he was wrong on this. Her power didn’t include healing. She didn’t trust herself, but she trusted him.
Not sure what she was doing, she sat back and clasped his limp hand. She closed her eyes, took a calming breath, and concentrated. Her heart beat stronger, blood surging through her. Shivers swept over her. Sensations fluttered over her skin. Her heart swelled inside her—all for Lethal. Love grew inside her. It was pure, strong, and powerful. She arched her back, and her whole body shook. Tingles shot down her arm, and she gripped Lethal’s hand tighter as her power swept into him. A warm, white light floated around them like a fluffy cloud.
His weak hand grew stronger, and he squeezed her fingers. She stopped trembling and collapsed. The bruises on his face and torso had faded, but not healed. She frowned. The ugly cut on his shoulder oozed with puss and she wrinkled her nose. Her power had done little to heal him.
“I don’t think I can do this. Let me call Raphael.”
He opened his eyes and clenched his teeth. “No.”
There was a tremor in his throat, and his breath was harsher than the last. His low and strained voice was determined. She smiled—such a stubborn angel.
She put her arm around his shoulder and strained to lift hi
m. “Can you sit?”
“No.” He pulled her to him; his hand gripped hers like a manacle. There were tremors in his fingertips; whether they were from pain or desire, she had no idea.
“Kiss me,” he said.
She couldn’t believe the strength he had. Only minutes before, he’d been weaker than a frosted flower.
He didn’t give her a chance to protest, and his lips claimed hers. His tongue thrust fiercely between her lips, smothering her doubt. His mouth ravaged her with none of the tenderness he’d shown before. This was desperate, feverish, urgent. But it wasn’t lust. She could actually feel his love for her, and it excited her. She wanted more. She wanted him pulsing inside her.
He pulled away, and disappointment gripped her, but she couldn’t be selfish. He was still in pain.
“Take it off,” he said, as he pulled on her dress with his left hand.
She couldn’t tear herself away from his hot gaze. Lord, she hoped he knew what he was doing. Making love might not work, and the hellish poison must be pumping through his system. Yet not wanting to disappoint, she gave into his command and pulled off her gown, then tossed it to the side. Cool air brushed over her, and she quivered.
“Beautiful.”
Her cheeks heated, and she wanted to look away, but met his possessive gaze.
“Take my pants off, then straddle my hips.”
How could he survive this? “But you’re wounded.”
“Do it. I can’t take them off.”
His plea pushed her into action. She removed his shoes, unbuckled his belt, and unzipped his trousers, trying to ignore it when he stiffened and bit back a groan. For one worried moment she thought he’d push her away, but he looked at her, promising the hunger building in his body.
This was madness, but she refused to deny her mate. She carefully tugged his pants past his hips, and her eyes widened at his erection.
“Straddle me.”
His compelling voice left her little choice. Trusting in their love, she gently lowered her shaking thighs and impaled herself on his hardened flesh. Her folds parted, taking him inside her. He caressed her breast, his fingers pinching her already budded nipple.
