“Z promised Theodora Broome a favor.”
He shut his eyes. Theodora Broome. Crone, and the most powerful witch in all of the Americas. He’d met her and her granddaughter before; he preferred not to think too much about it.
“Did he specify the kind of favor?”
“No.”
He opened his eyes, taking in the strong lines of her jaw, the purity of her cheekbones. “That was stupid.”
“It was for Z’s wings.”
Now that was a sucker punch to the gut. Z had been kidnapped during the raid on Heaven, and his wings had been plucked, his organs harvested, and his body tortured by the Infernus demons who had captured him. They had had to hire Theodora Broome to heal him.
Yael took a seat in one of the spindly chairs in front of the desk. “So why isn’t Z doing her the favor himself?”
Seraphina sat next to him. “He has poisonous wings and is mated to the Queen of the Mortus. He can’t leave her side for long.”
And Peony—the Mortus Queen—couldn’t leave Hell. Not yet, anyway.
“So why are you telling me this?”
“We thought you could take on the favor for us. If you’re willing.”
Anger, frustration, and pride all warred within him. He didn’t want to help some magical human, and he certainly wanted nothing to do with demons. But he had spent months searching for Z and been unable to find him; eventually the angel had been delivered to them by Azrael’s damned demon lover.
He owed his fellow Dart. A favor was the least he could do.
“Do you know what Theodora wants?”
“She said something about bodyguard duty.”
He winced. “You do realize I’m better at killing people than keeping them alive?”
“I can ask Raze if he can do it—”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it.” Yael did wonder why they approached him first, but he was more used to humans than Raze. He’d spent a lot of time making contacts when they’d first arrived in the Human Realm, and he’d maintained them, even though he had wanted to bash a few heads on occasion.
Working with humans did that to a person.
“So, when do we go see Theodora?”
Seraphina stood and held out a strong hand. “Now.”
Chapter 5
Theodora Broome was a short, elderly human woman: someone he’d normally walk right past and not give a second look. But her eyes sparkled with intelligence and cunning, and she had a bounce to her step that made Yael watch himself around her. Plus, she boasted an aura of power that made the skin on his forearms prickle.
She also seemed like she wanted to smack him. He hadn’t worked out if that was in a good or a bad way, yet.
“Him?” Theodora jabbed a finger in his direction and glared.
Probably a bad way.
“Me.” He winked, unable to help himself. Since falling, it was like the roguish part of his brain had switched into overdrive.
They were in a small room at the back of her magic shop, the incense-smell of which now clogged his nostrils, so at least the sulfur-stench of Hell hadn’t lingered. As for the back room, it was utilitarian in nature—completely different to the jam-packed craziness of the storefront.
The wrinkled finger lowered. “Hmph,” Theodora said, but amusement made her mouth quirk upward. She spun on Seraphina. “I made this deal with the handsome one. Not you, or him.”
“The handsome one has poisonous wings. You said you needed a bodyguard, but he could accidentally kill a human with one light touch.” Seraphina crossed her arms over her chest.
“I am totally more handsome than Z,” Yael muttered.
“Who said I needed the bodyguard for a human?”
“You’re not exactly overrun with demons here.” Seraphina’s voice was dry.
“What about you, then? You could pass for a human if you tried to ugly yourself up a bit.”
A smile danced at the edges of Seraphina’s mouth. “I am otherwise occupied now.”
“I’ve heard about your promotion.”
“Most people wouldn’t say running a Hell-guild was a promotion,” Yael said to himself.
“You mean most angels wouldn’t think that,” Theodora said, turning to face him. Her hearing was rather too good for a human, especially an old one. “The rest of us don’t have a stick up our ass.”
He barked a surprised laugh. Which was lucky, because he would have usually slit someone’s throat for that insult.
“You look like you prefer to kill people rather than save them,” Theodora said, studying him like he was an unusual insect.
Aren’t humans meant to be the bugs?
“You’d be correct.”
“At least that means you know your way around a blade.” She tapped a finger against her chin, as if she was considering his assets.
Which were numerous. Clearly.
“You could say that.” Oh, the innuendo, it burned.
He was a trained assassin—had been part of Heaven’s army for centuries. Sure, he was a failure to his parents, but this witch wouldn’t know that. As far as she was concerned, he was the deadliest thing out there; well, aside from Seraphina, since she’d gotten her ‘promotion’.
Know my way around a blade. Hah!
“What’s your favorite weapon?” Theodora asked.
“My witty repartee.”
She rolled her eyes.
He shoved his hand into a pocket and withdrew his favorite ‘toy’. The wire slipped through his fingers as he flicked the handle into his palm. “A garrote.”
“Hrm.” If anything, her gaze turned more calculated as it locked onto the wire. It wasn’t the standard choice, he knew. “What is your opinion on witches?”
Theodora Broome wasn’t an angel, but he had the sense that she would know if he lied. He kept to the bare minimum: “Magical humans.”
“Not quite true.”
His statement, or their status?
“But let’s move on. What do you think of humans?”
Ugh.
“Generally not worth thinking about.” He could have softened the statement, sugar-coated it, but he knew she’d see through his lie. If not for the fact that the Creator wanted all his children preserved, then Yael wouldn’t have bothered to think about humans at all.
“And what do you think about redheads?”
Seraphina’s spine straightened. “You want Yael to be a bodyguard for Rowan?”
Theodora’s expression turned sly. “Yes.”
“But she doesn’t believe in magic.”
Who was Rowan? And how could she not believe in magic?
Theodora spoke, “Don’t look so confused, boy. You’ve met her before.”
How had she known he was—?
That redhead.
Months ago, he’d found her in the garden on Raze’s estate. He’d thought she’d been lurking there, trying to learn their secrets; in reality, she’d just been killing time while her grandmother healed Z. He’d grabbed her by the arm—his palm still burned at the memory—and marched her to Raze’s office. He’d felt like a real ass right after he’d realized what was going on.
He’d tried not to think about it since. Especially because she was the first human he’d found…pretty.
Humans weren’t pretty, they weren’t anything.
Plus, his hand had tingled for a week after touching her. That shit wasn’t right.
Suddenly, he wanted to back out of this deal.
“Why does she need protection? Did her memory come back?” Seraphina asked.
Yael realized that there was a whole lot of extra information he was missing about the redhead. “Who wiped her memory?” he asked.
“Hades.”
“Hades?” He choked on some saliva. After he finished hacking up his lungs, he glared at Seraphina. What have you gotten me into? he asked telepathically.
She calmly returned his stare. Rowan help
ed us track down an ancient artifact that Hades had demanded we find. That’s how I ended up at Lucifer’s mansion. She discovered it was there.
She went to Lucifer’s mother-fucking house?
Yes. And she couldn’t accept magic was real when confronted with it. Rather than cause her permanent mental damage, Hades wiped certain parts of her memory.
Yael closed his eyes. A magical human—who didn’t believe in magic—had gone to Lucifer’s house. His house. And she had walked out alive.
Alive, but not intact, his mind corrected.
Yael was pretty good in a fight, and he had a nasty temper, although he was cold and calculating when others might be prone to bursts of hotheaded stupidity. But going up against Lucifer? The guy was the first fallen angel. He ate children for breakfast, and demons for dinner. The fact that Seraphina had nearly taken his head off recently would only serve to make him more deadly.
I am not up to this shit.
“Are you two done talking?” Theodora drawled, tapping her temple. “It’s rude to do it in front of others when they can’t hear you.”
She’d known they were communicating telepathically?
This woman really was powerful.
Yael exhaled. “Please tell me you don’t need me to be a bodyguard for your granddaughter because she’s caught Lucifer’s attention.”
Bodyguard… he really preferred the term ‘close protection officer’, or C.P.O.
Theodora bit her lip and had the grace to appear slightly guilty. “Sorry, can’t do that.”
“What the fuck does he want with her?”
“Rowan is a conduit. The most powerful one in generations. She channels magic without even realizing it. For someone like Lucifer, that would be a serious weapon worth obtaining.”
Yael’s gut dropped somewhere below the floor. “How can she share the magic when she doesn’t believe she has it?”
“In the past, we’ve asked her to just be ‘open’. With family, that’s enough. But with Lucifer…he’d have to build her trust.”
“And how is he doing that?” Yael asked. But he could picture it. A few slow smiles from the world’s prettiest former angel, a few dinners out, and the human woman would be his for the taking.
“He’s organized for her to work on an archaeological dig in Egypt.”
Yael blinked. That was not the answer he was expecting.
“So, he’s not her lover?”
“Not yet.” Theodora’s mouth pinched. “But he will try to be, no doubt. Especially as Rowan’s boyfriend died in a car accident a week ago.”
She’d had a boyfriend?
He shook his head, that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Lucifer was going to try to seduce a human woman and it was Yael’s job to protect her from it. Not the type of C.P.O. duty he had expected.
What am I meant to do? Lie in between them?
“So, how I am going to stop all this?”
“Don’t leave them alone for too long. Make an excuse to be there if he’s with her. And since he’s shown interest, no doubt other demons will spy on her to see why. She is at risk of kidnapping, too. Satan will want her, just because Lucifer does.”
“What about Hades?”
“He hasn’t told me his plans.” Theodora shook her head, like he was the idiot.
Great.
“You want me to protect your granddaughter from two Hell-lords, plus an untold number of demons?”
“That about sums it up.”
“That’s one Hell of a favor.”
I am so fucked.
Chapter 6
Rowan stepped into the back room of Cat on a Broomstick, the scent of patchouli and neroli a comfort she hadn’t expected. There, in the small serviceable room, was Gran, seated at the table and talking quietly to a man. His back was to her, so she couldn’t see his face, but something about him was familiar, and it made the skin on her fingertips tingle.
The color of his hair, maybe? The shape of his broad shoulders? Maybe she’d seen him in a magazine before—he had the build to be a model.
At her entrance, they spun around to face her and her heart stuttered to a brief stop.
It was him.
The guy from the mansion.
Out of reflex, she rubbed her right bicep. Months ago, when she’d visited a palatial mansion in the rich part of town to help Gran ‘heal’ someone, the guy had grabbed her, thinking she’d been spying on his house. Her arm had ached for a week after—not from a bruise or a wound, but from something beneath her skin. It was like he’d branded her, somehow. The sensation had faded over time, but she hadn’t forgotten it. Nor him.
Even though she’d wanted to.
It had felt like she’d cheated on Eric—this man’s face popping into her thoughts when she had least expected it. Not in a naughty way, but in a daydreamy kind of way. Like if she had to imagine her perfect man, he is what she would picture: chestnut-colored hair, hazel eyes, and a face that was almost perfect, but not quite. And it was that teeny-tiny bit of imperfection that made him irresistible.
Oh, Eric had been handsome, but he didn’t have the kind of unearthly beauty that this man had.
She realized she’d been standing in the doorway, still as a lump of wood. “Uhhh…”
Gran and the man stood up. He smiled in a charming way, like he knew he was hot and that it worked for him.
“Hi. I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.” He held out his right hand. “My name is Yael.”
Gingerly, she reached out, biting back a yelp when electricity zapped up her arm. It wasn’t unpleasant, not like a real electrical shock, but it energized her. Her heartbeat sped up and butterflies danced in her stomach. She fought to keep her expression neutral—she couldn’t let Gran see how the contact affected her. How he affected her.
Yael seemed to feel something as well; he jerked his hand away, wiping it on his jeans, as if she’d dirtied him. Her mouth pressed into a thin line.
You’re in mourning. Who cares what he thinks of you?
She bit the inside of her cheek. How could she have forgotten about Eric, even for moment? How could she let this man—who she’d only met once before—affect her so much? As if she felt more alive from the physical contact. More…whole.
That was ridiculous.
Gran walked over to them both and prodded Rowan’s foot with her cane. A warning for her to behave. “And this is Rowan, she’s my granddaughter.”
Heat flooded her cheeks and she cursed internally. Damn her pasty white skin and its telltale nature. She avoided Yael’s gaze. “Sorry. Yes, it’s nice to meet you.”
He leaned back and tucked his hands into his pockets, the former smile wiped from his face. He was still handsome as hell, though.
She turned to her grandmother and opened her mouth to speak.
“Yael here will be going with you to Egypt.” Gran smiled magnanimously.
“Wait, what?” She needed to get her ears checked. She surely couldn’t have heard that right.
Gran’s normally sparkling eyes darkened. “Yael is going with you to Egypt. As a bodyguard and general assistant.” Steel underlined every word. This was apparently something her grandparent wouldn’t budge on—not easily, at any rate.
Rowan’s fists tightened and she gritted her teeth. “I don’t need a bodyguard, or an assistant.”
Especially not one her grandmother had picked. Or one that was quite so…disconcerting.
“Come now, it’s a dangerous part of the world.” Gran’s voice turned soothing. She knew she’d upset her. “And having someone to help you will make things much easier.”
Gah. Rowan hated it when her gran was rational. She was at her most dangerous when she was like that. It was why Rowan had agreed to work for her in the past, even though she believed Gran’s magic was nothing more than handwaving and marketing.
“I don’t need anyone’s help,” she said, sounding like a petulant c
hild, even to herself.
“Yael is quite experienced with history. And he comes with excellent recommendations.” A small smile raised the corner of Gran’s lips.
Yael snorted.
Her eyes flicked between the two of them. There was an in-joke there, but she didn’t understand it.
“Come back tomorrow,” Gran said to Yael. “I’ll give you all the information you need.”
Her ‘bodyguard’ nodded and strode to the door. He glanced back over his shoulder, meeting her slightly panicked stare with molten hazel eyes. “Until then.”
Why did that seem like a threat?
Or worse…a promise?
He stepped through into the shop, closing the door behind him.
She rounded on her grandparent. “How could you?”
“How could I what?” Gran lowered herself onto the sofa, her joints creaking. Rowan fought the surge of worry the sound produced.
“Hire a bodyguard for me,” she replied. “Interfere in my life.”
“Pfft. You honestly thought I’d let you go haring off to the other side of the world without ensuring you are well cared for?”
“I’m not haring off anywhere! I am going to Egypt to work.” Yes, it might appear like she was running away from her pain, but she’d been to Egypt before, had worked on excavations there –and elsewhere—before. It wasn’t like this was a new experience.
But you hadn’t done any of those things while grieving.
And she’d always had a cousin of some sort accompany her; it had been the only way Gran would let her leave the country.
Talk about controlling families.
Gran shook her head. “You aren’t thinking clearly. Going to work on a dig run by some guy you don’t know.”
“Don’t try that B.S. with me. Yes, Eric is dead. Yes, I am grieving. But don’t try and say that’s impairing my mental abilities. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. I am going to Egypt to work, not do anything crazy. The sponsor of the excavation has nothing to do with it.”
And well, archaeological excavations were hard work. There was a lot of sweat, pain and fatigue. It wasn’t like she was going off to party.
Ascending Passion Page 3
