Revenge- House of Nephilim

by May Dawson

  I tell everyone what Michael Kinley did to Elliot, and to me. Michael tries to interrupt.

  “You’ll have your chance,” the angel warns him. Then he turns back to me. “Very well, Eden. You’ve been heard.”

  The words hang in the air, and tension twists in my chest.

  “Now draw your sword,” the angel tells me.

  I draw out a steely blade. I have no expectations. I don’t know if I’m more good than bad; I don’t know who I am anymore.

  A pair of Sent agents, a man and a woman, walk down the path. They draw all eyes to them. One of the angels leans over and murmurs to them, and they move steadily toward Michael.

  “It’s all lies,” Michael says. Now he looks frightened. “It’s just a trick.”

  Before anyone can respond, he tries to drive his sword through my body.

  I parry, my sword ringing against his. He turns abruptly, getting inside my reach. He punches me in the face with his left hand, and I drop under the arc of his sword as he swings it, almost driving his sword into my chest.

  I drop to the ground, catching myself with my hands behind me, and kick out at him as hard as I can.

  He stumbles back a step, then drives his sword down at me. I roll to one side, dodging his attack, and as I jump to my feet, I whirl the sword in an arc, aiming for his neck.

  Michael’s head flies off his shoulder and across the clearing.

  I stop, my arms shaking. I’ve just damned myself. He attacked me first, but I killed him. I look at my men, who are wide-eyed and terrified just like me, their swords in their hands because they were trying to find a way to defend me.

  Flames ignite across my sword. It surprises me so much I almost drop the flaming sword.

  “A most powerful warrior to fight alongside us,” the angel says. “Welcome back to the world, Eden Greyson.”

  I can’t believe it. I grin as my men surround me, hugging me, and I finally start to laugh.

  Who would have thought that I could be reformed?

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  “What happens to you now?” I ask Gabriel when I find him in his office, packing his stuff into boxes, later that day.

  He sticks his hands in his pockets. “I go back to work. Be a real grown-up Sent agent.”

  There’s a rueful cast to his lips. It gives him a rare boyish look.

  “You look like a real grown-up Sent agent to me,” I tell him.

  “Well then. That’s unfortunate.”

  I raise my eyebrows and he adds, “You’ve made it clear you consider the Sent your enemies.”

  “It’s not that simple,” I say.

  “Oh?” He crosses his arms, drawing my gaze to his toned pecs. “And here I thought you saw the world as black-and-white.”

  “As people-who-need-killing-and-people-who-don’t?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “I didn’t kill Michael,” I say. “I think I deserve a gold star for that.”

  “I can’t give you a gold star, though. I can’t even give you that A in Ethics anymore.”

  “But you’re innocent of what Michael accused you of—”

  He nods. “I don’t want to be here anymore, though. I don’t believe in what happens here.”

  “Maybe I don’t want a gold star,” I say. I step closer to him, and his eyes dilate faintly, as if his body responds to my proximity. That reaction makes my own heart beat faster. “Maybe I want something else from you.”

  “Eden,” he says, and there’s a sudden huskiness in his voice. Tension ripples through his jaw. “You have three men you’ve known for a long time… you’ve gone through a lot together.”

  “I know. I’m very lucky.” I take one more step, this one bringing us intimately close, so close that I feel my nipples press against his pecs.

  He groans as his hands go to my hips, even as he shakes his head at himself.

  “But I said after I first met you that I really needed those Ethics classes,” I admit, “because I’m greedy. And I want you too. You’re not my teacher anymore.”

  “I should take you on a date…”

  “You should,” I agree. “Sometime. But for now…”

  I run my hands up his chest, then up his throat, up to cup his face.

  He smiles. “You’re a girl who knows what you want.”

  “And I take what I want,” I add.

  “I like that about you,” he says.

  “Good,” I say. “Because right now, I want you to put me on the edge of that desk and fuck me, Mr. Bright.”

  His eyes widen, but then he laughs. “You are incorrigible, Ms. Greyson.”

  When I touch my finger to my lips to shh him, his gaze tracks to my mouth.

  I remind him, “Don’t say that too loudly. They’re supposed to believe I’ve reformed.”

  “And have you?” He grabs my waist and spins us around, changing our positions so my ass is against his desk.

  “I believe that there might be such a thing as good guys now,” I say, “and I think I might even be one of them someday.”

  He’s already lifting me up onto the desk, but he freezes then. “Do you think you might be willing to join the Sent? To join me? You would be amazing.”

  The genuine warmth in his voice makes my chest swell. But I tease him, “Do you think you could save the recruitment spiel for later?”

  He smiles and leans forward, his hands still resting on my thighs. He pauses with his lips just a breath away from mine.

  I brush my lips against his. His hands tighten on my hips as he returns the kiss, gently at first.

  Then, as if he’s made a decision, his hand slides up the back of my neck and into my hair. His fingers tighten in my hair and he kisses me intensely. His tongue teases my lips apart expertly, and my lips part, allowing him in, as he tilts my head back. His mouth is firm and possessive, warm and sweet.

  My hands go to his belt. Wild hunger sweeps through me in response to the way he touches me, and I feel like I need him now. My fingers fumble over leather, find the cold metal of his belt buckle. I yank the belt open.

  He pulls away just enough to give me a skeptical glance. “In a hurry? We have our whole lives, Eden… thanks to you.”

  “Thanks to us,” I correct. “We’re a good team.”

  He’s still giving me that look, his eyebrow quirked.

  I reach into his pants and take him in hand, and his chest rises with the inhale of his breath as I draw out his cock. I smile, determined to make him stop giving me that look. He looks so calm and in control; I want to see him breathless, wild with passion.

  “But I want what I want,” I murmur, my lips tracing the hard line of his jaw as I stroke him in my hand, “and I want it now.”

  His hand fists tighter in my hair. “You might still be in need of some reform, Ms. Greyson.”

  He pulls hard enough on my hair to draw my head back, and his lips plunder my throat with wild kisses, with nips that sting in a way that make the throb between my thighs sharpen.

  “Oh, yes please,” I murmur.

  As he covers my throat in kisses, my hips roll up. His hands run up my thighs, under that stupid little plaid skirt, and he hooks his thumb in the waistband of my panties. My abs flutter and contract against his touch. As I roll my hips up, he yanks the panties down my thighs. They catch around my knees as I yank him toward me, pressing his tip against my throbbing core.

  He smiles against my lips at my greediness, and he presses inside me. I bite my lip, holding back a cry because we’re in his office and there are students just outside. He shoves inside me slowly, taking my channel inch by inch, and my thighs tighten around his waist, drawing him closer to me.

  Then he begins to move, pumping in and out. My fingers tighten on his shoulders, my fingernails digging through his dress shirt into his powerful muscles. He slides an arm around my waist, holding me intimately close. I toss my head back as sparks begin to tingle across my skin.

  The tingling of the sparks grows more intense,
my core full of warmth that seems to spread through my body.

  Then I cry out, I can’t help it, and he doesn’t give a damn either, because he keeps going as my channel tenses around him, as sparks burst in front of my eyes and I scream. His arm tightens around my waist, yanking me against him as he shatters inside me, and he groans intimately close into my ear.

  The two of us are both breathing hard as he pulls back just enough to look into my face. His eyes are magnetic, and they crinkle at the edges.

  He kisses me again, soft and slow.

  He’s right when he says we’ve got a lifetime for this.

  I might’ve made it out of the reform school, but maybe I ended up with another life sentence. But this one makes me smile, right before I kiss him again.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Julian

  When I walk into the front door of my mother’s house, I drop my backpack in the entryway, and it reminds me of coming home from school when I was a boy. She didn’t know that today was the Culling, that today was either the day I died or the day I came home.

  “Mom, I’m home,” I call, and the words raise a lump in my throat.

  It doesn’t matter what else I’ve done—how many fights I’ve been in, how many millions of dollars worth of cash and jewels I’ve stolen, how many women I’ve slept with—I’ll always still be a boy who loves his mom.

  The house smells comfortingly familiar, like cinnamon and woodsmoke because she likes to sit in front of the fireplace, even when it’s too damn hot outside, and have a glass of wine. The others are behind me as I step cautiously further into the house.

  Then suddenly, she comes flying down the stairs.

  She stops on the landing for a second, her eyes wide, and the look on her face is one I’ll never forget.

  Then she rushes into my arms, squeezing me tight. When she murmurs, “Julian,” her voice sounds broken. I hug her tight, knowing that I did break her, but I’ll do my best to never hurt her again.

  “I brought my friends,” I say finally, gently untangling myself. “Just for dinner. I just had to see you.”

  Gabriel has his own house we’ll go to later, but Eden begged for us all to stay together, and he agreed. After all, Eden always gets what she wants.

  My mother pulls away from me, wiping her eyes hastily with the heel of her hand. “Okay, introduce me to your friends,” she says.

  My mom’s never been much of a cook, and neither am I, so we order Chinese and all gather around the dinner table. She moves stacks of mail onto the sideboard and scolds me, “I didn’t know you were coming!”

  I jerk my thumb toward the door. “Well, Mom, do you want me to go back?”

  “No,” Lincoln groans. “I’m never following you anywhere again.”

  We talk and laugh for hours. Finally, I follow her into the kitchen when it’s time to leave.

  “You brought that girl home,” she tells me teasingly. “Are you going to keep bringing her home?”

  “You know, I think I am.” I hug her again; I can’t believe I can really hug my mom and be enveloped by the scent of her perfume again. “But we’ve got to go. Gabriel has his own place, so we’re going to crash there. So we can all stay together.”

  She gives me a skeptical look. “Mm-hmm.”

  “What’s that look for?” I demand.

  “You’re not going to that house to crash,” she tells me with a laugh. “But you all survived together, and you should celebrate together.”

  “Are we that obvious?” I ask her.

  She just laughs again. She hugs everyone goodbye, and even Lincoln hugs her back. Then the five of us climb into Gabriel’s SUV for the drive into the country, where he still has his house.

  “This is weird,” Everett says as we pull into Gabriel’s driveway. Gabriel’s house is a Cape Cod with a wide front porch, on the edge of a lake. “To be honest. It’s weird.”

  “It’s just somewhere to sleep until you guys get your own place,” Gabriel says. “And I’m definitely not an instructor anymore. It’s not that weird.”

  But I’m not sure about that. As I get out of the car and stretch, the glint of the lake beyond catches my eye. It seems like it might be worth painting.

  Lincoln says, “Any fish in the lake?”

  “Yeah, but don’t take my word for it,” Gabriel says. “You can take the poles out in the morning. You guys deserve a day off.”

  Lincoln scoffs. “We deserve a year off.”

  “For good behavior?” Eden teases, catching Everett by the front of the shirt. She gives him a suggestive smile. “I don’t think so. I don’t think you need any time off.”

  She plants a kiss on his lips, then playfully pushes Everett away. She follows Gabriel toward the front door, and we follow her.

  We’d follow her anywhere, even if it does feel weird.

  When we get inside, Gabriel flips on the lights. We walk into a big open-concept living room and dining room with a vaulted ceiling over the living room; it’s open to the kitchen in the back and even from here, I can see the expansive deck that overlooks the lake. The house has beautiful bones, but the walls are bare and painted a stark white. Gabriel appears to be allergic to color.

  But we could fix this. Eden can make anything homey, and I could paint.

  No matter how weird it feels right now, I have a feeling this could be home for all of us, one day.

  Gabriel heads up the stairs to put out towels. Besides his spacious master bedroom, which I glimpse from the hall, there’s an office and a guest room upstairs—both about as plushly furnished as the academy—and as we take turns showering in the two bathrooms upstairs, I wonder how this is really going to work.

  With my hair still damp, I head downstairs to find Eden stretched out on the floor in front of the sectional. Lincoln lays on the couch, and the blue light from the TV is reflected on their faces. He’s focused on whatever cheesy horror movie they’re watching, but he plays with her hair, and she looks content.

  It’s nice to see them both happy, even if it’s just for tonight.

  When I sink to the floor next to Eden, she leans over and kisses my cheek. There’s something about that sweet little gesture that means the most to me; we might have plenty of amazing, raunchy sex, but that kiss means it’s not just about the sex. She loves me, and that’s a relief, because I love her.

  Eden Greyson is really and truly mine.

  But I do also love the amazing, raunchy sex, so when her lips skate across my cheek, I turn my face to catch them. Her lips part against mine, and her hand rises to cup my cheek.

  She draws my lower lip into her mouth, nibbling it, and desire tenses every muscle in my body. I pull her toward me, eager to have her straddle my lap, where my cock is already hard and throbbing.

  Lincoln clears his throat. “I know you’re scared of horror movies, Julian, but—”

  Eden pulls away from me to smile at him. “Oh, don’t be like that, Linc. Come here.”

  When she catches his wrist and tugs him down, he hesitates, but when she pouts, he reluctantly slides off the couch.

  Lincoln crosses his arms. “Fine. I’m here. Now what are you going to do with me?”

  She laughs, her silky hair swaying over her shoulders as she straddles him. Her brightness is the perfect counterpoint to his grouchy attitude—as if they’re my very own chiaroscuro, darkness and light intermingling to make the world far more fascinating and beautiful than it was before.

  “I’m going to do this,” she tells him, pressing her lips to his, and her hand sweeps down, and she leans forward, her lips brushing his ear when she whispers, “And this…”

  As she strokes him, he doesn’t appear to respond at first, and then he closes his eyes. She smiles in triumph as she keeps toying with him, and when her mischievous gaze flashes up to meet mine, I don’t hesitate to slide across the floor. I lean and the two of us trade kisses as she continues to stroke Lincoln. When she slowly, reluctantly, pulls away, I look to see his reaction.


  He’s watching us, his gaze hungry, and he doesn’t seem reluctant anymore. He loops his arm around her waist and pulls her tight against his body, and she runs her hand through his hair, tilting his head back so she can kiss him deeply.

  His hands run up her sides, sliding under her t-shirt. She raises her arms above her head, and he draws her t-shirt over her head, their eyes still locked on each other’s.

  He slides her off his lap, between the two of us, and at first I’m jolted by worry he’s changed his mind. Sooner or later, we all have to choose to be a family, or she has to choose between us, and I hate that idea.

  I need her in my life, but I want them all.

  She leans against my chest, tilting her head up to kiss me, and Lincoln trails kisses down her stomach. She smiles against my lips as if she’s ticklish, and then he pulls her shorts down her thighs, kissing lower and lower down her abs, and her smile turns into a breathy moan as he presses his lips against her mound.

  I run my thumb over the beautiful curve of her cheekbone, cup her face to hold her still as the two of us trade kisses. From the corner of my eye, I can see Lincoln sink low, his tongue gliding between her thighs, and her hips jerk with desire. Her eyes drift close as her lips part, the tips of our tongues dancing as Lincoln’s mouth works against her clit, his tongue thrusting steadily inside her channel. I watch her taut abs contract beneath pale, shining skin, above the soft golden hair that covers her mound. I’m almost painfully hard with arousal watching her hips jerk and feeling her moan against my mouth, as he drives her toward the brink of her pleasure.

  Her hips begin to buck, and I wrap my arms around her tightly, holding her against me as her back arches with her pleasure, as she whips her hair back and forth as if she’s trying to flee the building power of her own release. Lincoln’s eyes watch her face, then his gaze meets mine. I thought maybe Linc wouldn’t want to share her, but when he looks at me, the shared pleasure of driving her to orgasm passes between us. Then his gaze fixes on her as he redoubled his efforts, his mouth working steadily against her clit.

  Her lips part in a rapturous expression of pleasure that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Then suddenly, she goes still, her head relaxing against my shoulder.