Erin bit into his palm, brought her foot down hard on his knee, and slammed her elbow into his cheek.
He dropped her.
She hit the floor knees first, sending a painful jolt through her bones that didn’t slow her down. She ran for the door, bare feet burning with each step, bringing back the horrors of Hell and what Veiron’s kind had done to her there.
Veiron reached the door before her and she ran straight into his arms.
“Erin, calm down!” He grabbed her waist but she refused to give up.
She rained blows down on his chest, pounding it as hard as she could, struggling the whole time. It had no effect, just as her punches hadn’t bothered the demons guarding her cell in Hell. Her throat closed, skin prickled, and heart raced. Images of burning rivers, black cragged spires, and endless darkness flashed across her eyes. The stench of sulphur choked her lungs. Tormented screams echoed in her ears.
“I don’t want to go back to Hell! I won’t go back.” She punched him across the jaw, snapping his head to one side. He closed his eyes, the muscle in his cheek popped, and he frowned.
Pissing him off was probably a bad move. She went back to smashing her fists against his hard chest, reddening his bare skin.
Her punches grew weaker and her head spun, her stomach rebelling in time with it. Oh, she really didn’t feel too good. Her hands settled against his chest, his strong heart pounding against her palms. She trembled, limbs weak and muscles twitching, heart a timid thing behind her breastbone.
Veiron gently cradled her, strong arms easily supporting her weight, and his chest heaved as he sighed.
“When have I ever given you the impression that I was going to take you back to Hell?” There was hurt in his voice and in his eyes when she bravely met them and it tore at her. “I have done nothing but help you.”
She couldn’t deny that. He huffed, carried her back across the room, and shoved her down onto the sofa.
His hands didn’t leave her shoulders.
He sat on the coffee table and stared at her.
“I know what you are,” she said with a glare aimed at intimidating him but failing dismally judging by how irritated he looked.
“No shit.” He rubbed his bare chest with one hand, keeping the other firmly on her shoulder.
Her thoughts raced and collided and she had half a mind to tell him to get his hands off her. She couldn’t think straight while he was touching her, or looking at her, or even near her. She needed some space or her head was going to explode. Her mind and her heart were pulling her in two different directions and she felt close to snapping.
“You’re one of them,” she whispered, unable to look him in the eye and see the pain her violent reaction to that had caused. Flipping out hadn’t been the smoothest move on her part but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. Everything she had been through had come flooding back and it had been too much for her to handle. Veiron probably thought she hated him now.
Don’t hate me.
He had told her those words just before he had gone off to fight the demonic angels.
He had known she would see what he really was and he hadn’t wanted her to flip out, and she had done just that. She had gone all psycho on him and tried to run away from him, from Veiron, the man who had walked through Hell to save her from the Devil and his own kind. The man who had taken care of her as best he could and had exposed himself to his enemies by using his powers for her sake.
Erin buried her head in her bare knees, clasped her hands over the back of her head, and cringed.
“Are you at least a good one?” she murmured into her knees.
Veiron’s grip on her shoulder loosened and she closed her eyes when he settled his hand over hers on the back of her head, his thumb stroking her interlinked fingers.
“You already know the answer to that question in your heart, Erin.” The woman. She had a British accent, London born and bred, just like Erin. Her tone carried no warmth though. Erin’s reaction hadn’t only annoyed Veiron. It had irked this woman too.
“Leave her alone, Taylor,” Veiron snapped and Erin felt a thousand times worse. He still defended her even after she had hurt him.
The beautiful Taylor was right. She did know the answer to her question. Veiron was one of the good guys and she felt sick to her stomach that she had accused him of being anything else.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered and long seconds ticked by in silence. She couldn’t blame him for not speaking to her, but perhaps she could make amends and explain her actions. “I panicked... just... everything hit me again and got muddled in my head... and it doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have freaked out. I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
His hand stilled against hers and he squeezed them and sighed. “You don’t need to apologise, Erin. You’ve been through a lot. Freak out all you want. I won’t mind.”
She didn’t believe that for a second. She had hurt his feelings and he deserved an apology from her, and if she couldn’t get him to accept it, he would always believe that she feared him.
“Just take it easy when you do, you’re still healing.” The softness of his voice failed to cover the strained note in it. Erin slipped her hands off the back of her head and sat up. Veiron’s hand shifted to her cheek, his thumb sweeping across it as his dark eyes held hers. “You had me worried there for a moment.”
His gaze dropped to her chest and his hand followed. Erin inhaled sharply when he stroked the top of her breast and looked down, seeing her flesh cut to ribbons and blood pouring from the wounds. Her heart missed a beat and then another, and then thumped hard against her ribs.
“I thought I was going to die.” She blinked slowly to clear the tears rising in her eyes and the blood and wounds disappeared, leaving behind the reality of Veiron’s fingers gently caressing perfect skin. She raised her head again and looked into his eyes. “How?”
“Einar healed you for me. There are some tricks I can’t perform,” he said, voice low and filled with regret. He frowned and then the darkness in his eyes lifted again and he settled his palm back against her cheek. “I should’ve done a better job of protecting you.”
The heat in his eyes couldn’t mask the pain and Erin knew it wasn’t his fear of her dying or anger over his failure to protect her showing. He could pretend all he wanted, but his eyes betrayed his heart and told her that her reaction to discovering he was a demonic angel had deeply hurt him.
She leaned into his palm, wishing she knew what to say to make it all better, and frowned as the room whirled again, spinning violently.
“Are you feeling ill?” The other man this time. His concern surprised her and she slowly looked across at him, causing Veiron’s hand to fall from her face.
Rich brown eyes met hers, golden flakes in them shining in the firelight. He was as large as Veiron, thickly muscled and handsome too, wearing a black t-shirt and dark blue jeans. The man crouched beside her and touched her forehead.
There was strange heat in his touch that sent a hazy warm feeling flowing into her mind.
Erin closed her eyes and sighed, feeling infinitely better. This man’s touch was like a drug, a painkiller that pharmaceutical companies would kill to have.
“The healing is holding but you are tired. You need more rest,” he said and she nodded absently.
No, not rest. What she really needed was Veiron to accept her apology and then some answers rapidly followed by a shower.
“That’s enough, Wingless,” Veiron snarled and the man’s hand disappeared from her forehead.
Erin opened her eyes to see Veiron’s fingers locked tightly around the man’s wrist and his face a mask of darkness, a red glow around his irises.
The man he had called Wingless snapped his hand free of Veiron’s grip and held his glare. The gold in his eyes brightened and swirled. “If you want our protection, you had best start reining in that mouth of yours, Demon.”
“Boys,” Taylor said and shoved Veiron to one side. She sat where
he had been on the coffee table, directly in front of Erin, and her red lips curved into a smile that would have had most men’s hearts thumping.
Erin glanced at Veiron.
He was watching Taylor.
What made the tight hot feeling in the centre of Erin’s chest worse was that when she looked back at Taylor, the woman was giving Veiron a look that left Erin feeling horribly like the two of them were or had been more than friends.
Veiron moved off to stand with his back to the fireplace. The flames cast his shadow over Taylor and Erin’s legs.
“I’m Taylor, and this is Einar.” Taylor intimated the man now sitting next to Erin on the fancy sofa, the one Veiron had called Wingless. “And this is our home.”
“And what are you?”
Taylor frowned at her. Erin didn’t apologise for the bluntness of her tone. Veiron jingled and Erin glanced at him out the corner of her eye, not missing the look he was giving Taylor as he toyed with the thong in his hair.
So this was the lover that had cared about him enough to give him a protection charm?
But the woman was clearly with the man beside her.
As if reading her thoughts, Taylor reached over and touched Einar’s hand where it rested on his knee, and looked into his eyes with blue ones that conveyed the depth of her love.
Veiron moved away, circling around the back of the empty couch behind Taylor, and picked up a short sword. He stared at it, murder in his eyes.
Erin felt sick.
“I’m part demon,” the woman said with a soft smile and then glanced back at Einar. “He’s an angel.”
“Like Veiron?”
Veiron snarled, flashing sharp red teeth in Einar’s direction.
Taylor continued as though the interruption had never happened. “No, Einar was a hunter angel until he fell in love with me, and I in love with him.”
Those words had the dark look on Veiron’s face turning blacker. He stabbed the tip of the sword into the table and left it standing there.
“Do be careful of the furniture.” Taylor didn’t look at him. “Honestly, the man is little more than a beast when his temper gets the better of him. Where was I? Einar chose to be with me, so Heaven chose to remove his wings.”
“That’s terrible. I thought Veiron had no wings.” Erin risked a glance at him.
He prowled around the shadowy far corner of the red room, toying with the weapons as he passed, a lethal yet graceful predator. He spun a dagger against his palm, caught it by the hilt and dug it point first into the small lamp table it had been on.
“All angels can hide their wings. It takes effort to hide them in the way Veiron is doing,” Einar said. “There are easier methods open to them, such as using a type of glamour, a spell if you like, that will change their appearance to mortal eyes. Demons and some gifted humans can see through the spell… and some angels choose to hide their wings in the way Veiron is, by putting them away. The angel needs to maintain constant control over them then though, and there is the danger that their concentration will slip and their wings will come out.”
“What about his armour?” Erin ran her gaze over Veiron. He wore just his black jeans and his boots but when he had turned into something demonic, he had been wearing black and red armour.
“I am in the room,” Veiron snarled. “No need to speak of me as though I’m not.”
“The mood you’re in, it would be best if you weren’t in the room.” Taylor stood and scowled at him, her hands on her hips. “You stick a knife, dagger or anything into another piece of my furniture and I will stick one in your gut, so help me God.”
Veiron just exposed his red sharp teeth at her.
“That is childish.” She huffed. “I swear, you haven’t matured at all since I had the disappointment of dating you all those years ago.”
He spun another dagger in his palm and then launched it at Taylor. Erin ducked. Taylor dipped her body to one side, neatly avoiding the whizzing blade, and it thudded into the far wall.
“That’s it. Bad dog. Out!” Taylor stormed across the room, grabbed Veiron by his left arm and slung him through the open door onto the landing on the other side. She slammed the door in his face and held onto the handle, bracing one foot against the wall, when he tried to open it. “No. Not until you can form sentences like a good boy and grow up.”
An unholy roar shook the room.
Taylor cringed, gingerly released the door handle and turned back to face Erin. “I would give him five minutes. He’s probably stomping around in his beasty form now. I’m guessing you would rather not see him like that again?”
Erin shook her head but couldn’t stop her gaze from drifting to the door.
Veiron had looked truly frightening when he had been in what Taylor called his ‘beasty form’, standing three feet taller than usual and twice as broad, with black skin, glowing red eyes and sharp red teeth.
But she had known in her heart that he wouldn’t hurt her.
He had lost control because that other demonic angel had cut her and tried to kill her. He had fought to protect her.
Low growls sounded from the hall and she could hear him pacing, frantic heavy steps that echoed through the wooden floor to where she sat.
“He’s a good bloke really.” Taylor resumed her position on the coffee table. She flicked a glance at Einar, clearly met a disapproving look, and rolled her blue eyes. “He is. He helped out when he didn’t have to and for all his noise and swagger, he does have some good bones in his body.”
Erin picked up the black fleece blanket and wrapped it around herself, feeling cold and uncertain now that Veiron wasn’t around to protect her. He had brought her here to these people and knew them, so he must feel that they would protect her, but she didn’t know them from Adam and she wasn’t about to trust anyone without them earning it first.
“Where were we? Armour. Angels can materialise things,” Einar said.
“Like weapons? I saw Veiron make a weapon out of thin air.”
He nodded and a strand of tawny hair fell down from his short ponytail at the nape of his neck. He curled it behind his ear. “We can do the same with clothes, and our armour.”
“Veiron mentioned that when we were in Hell. He wanted to make me boots and clothes, and wanted to try to make me some food and water.” Erin glanced at the door again. The pacing had stopped and so had the growls. She wanted to go to the door and open it so she could see that Veiron was all right and that his anger wasn’t solely because of her reaction. “Is he going to be okay?”
Taylor smiled. “He’ll be fine in a jiffy. His feelings just got a little dented.”
It was her fault then. “I didn’t mean to react like that. I wasn’t lying earlier when I apologised to him.”
“Tell him again later. I swear it takes three different instances of apologising to get the message through that thick skull of his sometimes. Just say it twice more with a few minutes between them, and I’m sure he’ll finally be glad to hear it.” Taylor touched her knee and looked deep into her eyes. “I don’t know what has happened between you two, but Veiron looked like a man not on the edge but firmly over it when he came here carrying you in his arms. I think you scared him pretty good. He was even nice to Romeo here so he would heal you. Not that Einar wouldn’t have healed you if Veiron had been his usual self around him.”
For a moment, Erin had felt lost but then she had realised that Romeo was Taylor’s pet name for Einar. Like Veiron called him Wingless. Erin thought Taylor’s name was far kinder, and cuter.
“He growls and snarls but that’s only because he has a warm heart beneath that vicious exterior and he’s protecting it,” Taylor said.
Erin wanted to mention that it was a heart that clearly still belonged to Taylor but held her tongue. She couldn’t believe that Taylor wasn’t aware that Veiron harboured feelings for her. It was as clear as day to Erin, and she was no competition for the beautiful, part-demon woman sitting in front of her.
S
uddenly Erin wanted to be alone too.
“I think I’ll feel better when I’m cleaned up. Do you have a shower I can use?” she said and Taylor’s expression softened.
“Sure. There’s a room free upstairs. I’ll take you to it and I’ll find you some clothes while you shower.” Taylor’s red lips curved into a playful smile. “I have to say, you both stink.”
Erin was sure that she did, and that it would take more than just one hot shower to get the rank stench of Hell off her skin and out of her hair.
She thanked Taylor with a smile and stood. Einar held her arm to steady her. She smiled at him too but she couldn’t hold it.
“I’ll contact Marcus and tell Amelia you’re safe. Anything you want me to pass on to your sister?” he said and rose to his feet.
“Just that I’m fine and I’ll see her soon.” She wanted to speak to Amelia herself, wanted to tell her all the crazy stuff that had happened and hear her sister tell her that it was all going to work out in the end. She had never needed her sister so much.
Taylor opened the door. Veiron stormed in looking one hundred percent human and one thousand percent mad but Erin kept her head down, passing him in silence.
She followed Taylor up the rectangular wooden staircase to the next floor, and into a large pale green bedroom with a double bed and a single table beside it. The lamp there was on, casting warm light around the room.
“There’s a shower through there.” Taylor pointed to the door on Erin’s left. “Should be towels and things. Einar likes to keep it stocked up for visitors. We never know when one of his friends might drop in.”
Erin presumed friends of Einar’s would be angels. Did all angels have red wings like Veiron, or did they have white wings as they did in stories? Or black wings like the man she had met in Hell?
“Thanks,” Erin said and sighed when Taylor flashed a smile and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Erin couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a shower or taken care of things that were high on a woman’s list of priorities. Like shaving. She entered the pale green and white bathroom. It was nothing fancy but it looked like the finest hotel suite bathroom to her. She opened the doors of the white cupboard that supported the sink in front of her and a smile spread across her face when she spotted the razors.
Her Angel: Eternal Warriors Romance Series Complete Series Box Set (Books 1-5) Page 43
