Revenge- House of Nephilim

by May Dawson

  Julian seems deep in thought. “You were always the one who said maybe this isn’t the right way to fix the world.”

  I nod, although I only dared talk that way once I trusted them, feeling them out, hoping I wouldn’t be strung up for a bit of intellectual curiosity.

  “I wish I’d listened to you,” Julian says, grinning at me with that usual quick humor of his.

  Relief unfurls in my chest. But I look to Lincoln.

  “I wish a lot of things had been different,” I say.

  “So how did you end up here?” Julian demands.

  I bite my lower lip, debating what to say.

  “Because he’s still Sent,” Lincoln says, rising from his seat. “And we can trust him about as much as we can the Lords.”

  Lincoln faces me with his arms crossed over his chest. “This doesn’t change anything for me, Everett. You ran a long con on your best friends. You think that makes you a good guy?”

  I shake my head. “I’ve never been under the impression I’m the good guy. I don’t think there are any good guys.”

  Eden pats my leg, twisting her head to look into my face. “Oh, bullshit, Ever.”

  “You believe me?”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t see it coming,” she says.

  “Richmond was so convinced we had someone informing on us to the Sent,” Linc says slowly. “Do you think you are why he killed Elliot and tried to kill Eden?”

  I stand too, pulling myself to my full height as I square off with him. “I didn’t make Richmond act like a monster.”

  “No,” he says. “You just stood by, watching us all act like monsters, smug in your security—”

  “So you hated me when you thought I was still a Lord, and you hate me for not being a Lord,” I cut in.

  “Maybe I just hate you, Ever,” Lincoln says, arms crossed over his chest.

  My hope dies as I glance around the room.

  “Your opinion’s never been worth caring about,” I tell him. “Being a monster came awfully easy to you, didn’t it, Lincoln?”

  Then I walk out, leaving them behind me, leaving a piece of my heart too—all over again.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Eden

  Once the door slams behind Ever, Lincoln stands up and kicks his desk so hard that it slams into the wall. “Asshole!”

  Lincoln rages hot, but harmless. Or so I always believed, at least.

  “You have anger problems,” I tell him. My own heart is racing, but suddenly it’s Lincoln that I’m furious at. I pull my hand out of Julian’s and stand, crossing the distance between me and Lincoln. I jab my finger into his chest, glaring up into his stupidly handsome face. “And you need to get them under control.”

  Lincoln looks down at me, his chest heaving, heat flaring in his eyes that might be rage or lust. “Watch how you touch me, princess. I might just touch you back.”

  “Stop calling me that,” I warn him. “You and I? We’re not on a pet name basis right now.”

  “It’s not a pet name,” he tells me. “You’d think you could tell the difference.”

  He’s such a liar. I can tell from the way he looks at me that he still wants me. When we were younger, nothing ever happened between us. But there was always tension. And now the tension is back, and dialed up to eleven.

  “Well, apparently I’ve always been slow on the uptake.” I press my hand against his chest. His golden eyes blaze down at me, full of molten fire, but I’m not backing down. “I thought Ever really was a bad guy.”

  “He is,” he says through gritted teeth. “You think he’s better than us? He was right there beside us with everything we did. And now he gets to say, oh, it was always for a higher cause. Well, bullshit.”

  “You hate him because you hate yourself.”

  Lincoln’s eyes blaze, golden flames circling the black of his irises. But all he says is, “Take your hand off me.”

  “Why?” I push him against the wall. He lets me push him, his eyes full of heat. His shoulder blades slam into the wall, but I keep my hand pressing hard against his chest. “What are you going to do? How bad a guy do you have to believe you are?”

  “You better get your head on straight, or this place is going to kill you,” Lincoln growls.

  Julian whistles behind us. “The chemistry. You two are so close to hate-fucking I feel like I should leave.”

  “Maybe you should,” Lincoln snaps back.

  I look between the two of them. Julian has a faint smirk written across his face under his tousled dark hair that makes me furious.

  “Ever is our friend. You two ignored him the entire time he’s been here?”

  “You were literally planning to murder us,” Julian drawls, laying back on Lincoln’s bed, making himself comfortable anywhere, as he does. “Now you’re the friendship patrol?”

  “Why didn’t you all talk to each other?” I demand.

  “I’m trying to start a new life!” Lincoln explodes. “It’s not that easy, Eden!”

  “Yeah, tell me about it.” I don’t know what to do with myself now that the last of the Lords on my kill list are dead.

  I’m not going to hurt these guys. I know that now, and it makes me feel lost.

  “Why do you two still talk to each other?” I glance between Julian and Lincoln. “Which one of you convinced the other to turn themselves in?”

  Lincoln turns his face to one side, glaring out the window. We’re still touching, and his heart races fast under my palm.

  “Oh,” I say, pulling my hand away. “You didn’t want to turn yourself in, did you, Linc? Someone forced you. So you were pissed at Ever because you thought he did what you wanted.”

  He shakes his head, but his pain-stricken eyes tell me that I’m right.

  “Was it daddy angel?” I ask. Those angelic fathers of ours are all assholes, but Lincoln’s was the worst.

  “Shut up.” Lincoln pushes past me toward the window, but he’s careful not to hurt me, flattening himself to the wall as he side-steps my hand on his chest.

  The desk chair is in his way, though, and that is a casualty of his fury. He throws it across the room into the wall.

  I sigh as I stare at the two of them. Lincoln’s a ball of rage; I can’t talk to him. Julian’s so damned amused, but it’s all a shell.

  “Where do you think Ever would go?” I ask Julian, knowing they’ve all watched each other even though they haven’t talked.

  Men are exasperating.

  Julian purses his lips.

  “I don’t hate you right now,” I tell him, glancing toward Lincoln. I don’t hate Linc either, to be honest, but he’s walking a line where I could, that’s for sure. “So why don’t we keep it that way?”

  Julian rolls his eyes, but says, “If he’s not in his room, he probably headed for the lake. Or maybe the witches’ house since he’s made friends there—but I wouldn’t go alone.”

  “Great,” I say. “I’ll start with the lake.”

  “Watch out for the kraken!” he calls after me as I slam out of the room.

  Of course. Of course, there would be monsters in the water.

  I bang on Ever’s door, but no one answers. Even though I know he doesn’t lock it, it still surprises me a little when I twist the doorknob and his door creaks open. I glance into his spare, neat bedroom just long enough to confirm it’s empty, and then I head to look for the lake.

  Ever always seems so tough, but I saw the hurt flash through his eyes before he stalked out of Lincoln’s room.

  When I reach the lake, it takes me a while to spot Ever. He’s sitting on a grassy green hill overlooking the shimmering water. It’s the glint of his crutches beside him that catches my attention at first, because he’s so still, he blends in with the landscape.

  “Hey,” I say, sinking cross-legged beside him.

  “What are you doing here?” he asks, not looking toward me, but his voice is curious. “You shouldn’t wander around campus. We don’t know how safe you are al
one.”

  I shrug it off. I haven’t been safe alone for two years, since the Sent and the Lords have both wanted me, but I’ve done fine. “I finished yelling at Lincoln, so I came to talk to you.”

  “Why are you mad at Lincoln?” He sounds skeptical.

  “Ever.”

  “Mm?”

  He doesn’t look my way. But there’s no way I can stand to put into words how I feel protective of Ever. I don’t want anyone to hurt him like Lincoln and Julian hurt him.

  It’s hypocritical of me. Julian is right. I was plotting Ever’s death, and now I’m driven by this urge to wrap him in my arms and protect him. No matter how big or badass a man might be—everyone needs to be protected sometimes, from something.

  “Ever,” I repeat, and when he finally turns toward me, raising one eyebrow skeptically, I lean in and brush my lips over his.

  His lips are tense at first, and then his lips soften, parting against mine. But he pulls away, his hands going to my shoulders as if to hold me away, although I have a feeling he has a tough time pulling himself away from me.

  “What’s that for?” he asks me. “I thought you’d be mad at me too.”

  “For keeping a secret like that from me?” I demand. “You told me that you loved me, but you never thought to mention you were a Sent agent?”

  His lips purse to one side. “So that’s a yes on mad.”

  “Well, yeah. But you and I have something between us that goes a little deeper than anger,” I tell him.

  His brows arch. “Still?”

  “Always.” I lean in and kiss him again.

  Even when I was still considering murdering him, some crazy part of me wanted to kiss him too. Now I can kiss him without reservation, and I do.

  The last time we had sex, it was furious, dirty sex. But this time when I climb on top of him, the sun shines on us. His hands are gentle and tender as he brushes my hair back from his face, his gaze studying me until his lips arch up as if he likes what he sees.

  “You have no idea what it did to me when I thought you were dead,” he murmurs.

  “You have no idea what it did to me when I thought you destroyed me,” I say, because that’s the only way to describe Elliot’s death. I was shattered.

  But beside the grief of losing Elliot himself, which has torn something out of my soul that will never be replaced, I was crushed by the belief that this man I loved betrayed me. It was like having the world torn out from underneath my feet.

  I’ve gotten revenge on everyone involved.

  So why do I have this awful, restless ache, like I’ve got unfinished business?

  His hands slide up my waist, pushing under the hem of my t-shirt, and I decide to forget that unfinished business for a while. The pain will be there. It’ll always be there, won’t it?

  He pulls my t-shirt over my head, then bends forward to trace his lips along the line of my clavicle. The soft sweep of his lips is electric, and my chin rises, exposing my throat to his touch. His lips against my throat as he kisses me awake a sudden throb between my thighs.

  I run my hands over his powerful biceps, up to those broad shoulders. Ever’s body feels familiar, and yet part of him is a stranger to me now. There’s two years between us and so many misunderstandings—so much hate and feeling and desire.

  I yank his shirt over his head. The sun falls across his hair, across the handsome planes of his face. I study him, my fingers teasing across the ridges of his abs, up his chest, stopping to circle my thumb across his nipple. His breathing still changes when I toy with his nipple, when I lean forward and circle it with my tongue, then run my tongue up the hard plane of his chest, and I almost smile. I bet I still know how to make him come thoroughly undone.

  “You’re the only one I’ve ever been with,” I tell him. “That’s weird, isn’t it?”

  He shakes his head before he presses another tender kiss to my lips. His hand strokes up the inside of my shirt, and when his thumb slides inside my bra, my chest hitches.

  “How many girls have you been with?” I ask, my voice casual, not that it fools either of us.

  “That is a hard-on killing question,” he says.

  “Is it?” I ask, my hand teasing between his thighs, along his hard muscles encased in denim. I run my fingertips along the inseam of his jeans until I come to his hard bulk, and his breath quickens.

  He stares out over the water as he tells me, “I meant it when I said I never got over you.”

  I watch his face, not understanding, until he says, “There’s been no one else, Eden. I thought you were dead. I thought you were the great love of my life, and you died because I didn’t come back to you in time, because we were distracted by Hector…”

  Shock rolls over me as I realize how much guilt he feels, and then a puzzle piece I haven’t understood falls into place for me. “Is that why you didn’t clear up things with Julian and Lincoln? You felt you didn’t deserve to be happy?”

  He pulls a face. “Julian’s never made me happy. And Lincoln is almost impossible to clear things up with—you saw.”

  “I’ll fix him,” I promise, and Ever’s lips tug in a faint smile.

  “You’ve always been confident, but there are some things even the magnificent Eden Greyson can’t do,” he tells me.

  “Watch me,” I tell him, right before I push him down into the grass.

  I cover his mouth with mine, claiming him again. He’s mine, he was always mine, even when I hated him and that makes my heart sing. I was never truly alone in the world. He was out there somewhere, grieving me, wishing he could have protected me.

  His hand twines in my hair, his hand skating across the curve of my ass, holding me against his body as if he’s afraid he’ll lose me again.

  The two of us trade searing kisses, barely pausing to shed our jeans. My knees sink into the soft grassy earth, raising the pungent, earthy scent in my nose along with the citrusy scent of my own arousal. His fingertips caress the curves of my ass as he looks up at me like he’s drinking in my face, before his hands tighten on my hips.

  I ride him slowly this time, watching his face, savoring the feel of his hands on my body and his cock buried deep inside me. He sits up, cupping my face with his hands, kissing me. Then his hands move to my breasts, teasing my nipples. I brush my lips over his jaw, over the curve of his cheekbone, feeling the roughness of his five o’clock shadow. The breeze off the lake caresses our naked bodies.

  Somewhere in the distance, there’s a roar that might be a monster, but I don’t give a damn right now about anything but Everett Kane.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” I tell him, worried about his ankle.

  “You can’t hurt me,” he promises, but he’s wrong, so wrong.

  Ever is tough, but there’s something vulnerable beneath that hard shell. He’s hurt so much all these years, and I kiss him knowing I can’t take away his pain, but the two of us can both let it go for a little while. Our hands roam each other’s bodies and I ride his cock, faster now, the two of us beginning to breathe hard. His face changes as his orgasm grows, tension in the lines of his beautiful face. I bite my lower lip as tingles race across my skin, as an electric throb rises between my thighs.

  Then I’m gasping his name, and he wraps me in his arms as the two of us collapse to the ground together. My head finds his shoulder, his cock still buried deep inside me, and the two of us lay naked together under the blue sky. The aftershocks of my orgasm pulse through my body, tightening my core around his cock, sending a shiver through my muscles.

  I’m not going to kill him. But more than that—maybe Ever and I will bring each other back to life again.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Lincoln

  “May I just ask politely,” Julian says as he settles into a seat across from me in the dining hall, “what the hell is wrong with you?”

  “You should stick to your strengths,” I tell him. “Being polite doesn’t make the list.”

  He glances up at m
e, no doubt with something barbed on his tongue—sometimes I don’t know why this prick is my best friend—but then his eyes turn bright as he focuses on something behind me, as if someone’s just come into the door to the dining hall.

  There’s only one person who can make Julian’s face suddenly come alive the way it just has, all the jaded sarcasm fleeing his chiseled features, and his very happiness makes me suddenly tense.

  Eden Greyson.

  I can practically feel her presence behind me, a rippling in the air. Sarcasm and sunshine, wrapped into one dangerous, sweet-faced package. I bite my lip as my cock suddenly hardens at the faint scent that rises in my nostrils, a faint scent of honey and a citrus tang of sex, even before she slides past me, her hair brushing my shoulder, to drop into the inside seat at our table.

  Christ. I shouldn’t get hard at her merely brushing up against me.

  “Gentlemen,” she says, her voice teasing as she drops her tray on the table, since none of us are exactly gentlemen. “How are you this evening?”

  “Not as good as you, apparently,” I mutter. “Since I’m not freshly fucked.”

  Julian was starting to say something glib to her in response, and my angry words draw both their gazes.

  Julian tells me, “I’d like to ask my earlier question once again, with extra emphasis.”

  Eden rolls her eyes and laughs, taking a seat without reservation. She sways her shoulder against mine, bumping into me as if we’re friends. “Something you clearly need to fix and soon, because your temper is only getting more unpleasant.”

  “Are you volunteering?” Christ, what is wrong with me. I can’t stop talking. I don’t usually talk much, and apparently, when I do, I’m an asshole.

  She raises both her eyebrows at me as Julian whistles.

  “Maybe,” she tells me, ruffling my hair with her hand. I bristle at the contact, giving her a cold stare, even as the sweet scent of her body washes over me. “But you’re going to have to get on my good side first. Right now, it’s not looking good, boy-o.”