Destiny's Knight: A Fallen Angel Protector Paranormal Romantic Suspense Book (Guarded Souls 1)

by Lexxie Couper

He grew still, calm. Drew a slow breath.

  I know You have cast me out. I know I have defied You. He sent the prayer out into the void, an exercise in desperate futility. His Creator no longer acknowledged his existence, after all. But please, my Lord, I need—

  “Knight?”

  He snapped his eyes open at the faint shout.

  “Knight, are you here?”

  His heart slammed against his breastbone.

  “Kade?” The vampire’s name left him on a cracked whisper. Ice poured into his open mouth, down his throat.

  Fight it. Fight. It.

  “Kade.”

  The void roped around him. Fed the ice. Ground down on him.

  Fight.

  IT.

  “Kade!”

  His shout bounced around the empty warehouse. Fell into silence.

  Kade! he bellowed in his mind.

  “Knight?” A dark blur cut the space, and suddenly Kade stood before him. “What’s—”

  “Angel’s…sn-snare,” Nathanial ground out, the words barely a strangled rasp. “Need…break…barrier…”

  Piercing green eyes drilled into him. Confusion flittered over the man’s seamless face.

  Fighting the icy void, Nathanial forced his stare to the warehouse’s floor. “Des…troy…the…sn…”

  Kade moved, a dark blur streaking toward the far wall of the warehouse.

  The ice sank into Nathanial’s bones. Agony screamed through him, his wings, his soul.

  And then—his body moved. Crumpling to the floor, gasping.

  A strong, cold hand gripped his upper arm, catching his fall. Halting it. “In here, Nim!” Kade’s deep shout reverberated around the warehouse. “I’ve found him.”

  Nathanial struggled to lift his head. It was as if someone had dropped a planet on the back of his neck.

  “Who did this to you, Knight?” Kade asked, his grip on Nathanial’s arm tightening. “Are you okay?”

  Weak. So weak. He could hardly stand, let alone return to Billie. How was he to get back to her, find out what was going on, where Erah was, where Gilbert was, if he could hardly—

  “Crap, Knight.” A petite woman with a bright purple buzz cut stumbled to a halt directly in front of him. “What happened?” Eyes wide, she touched his chest—and jerked it away with a sharp hiss. “Angel’s snare,” she said, flicking an angry glare at Kade.

  Kade frowned. “I don’t know what that is.”

  Nim looked back at Nathanial. “It traps angels. Imprisons them. Drains them of their force until they’re empty husks. Dark, parasitic magic. The darkest. Requires not only blood sacrifice, but souls. Innocents suffer to execute it. Nasty stuff. Only a powerful force can wield it, and even then the personal toll is dreadful.”

  “Who did this to him?”

  Nim shook her head. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen anything like this.” She frowned up at Kade. “You broke the circle?”

  “The blood ring? Yes.” Kade dipped his head, his green eyes fixed on Nathanial. Worry shone in them, an unusual emotion for the owner of the agency. The ancient vampire rarely showed any emotion considered favorable or compassionate. “Now I want to know who did this to Knight so I can rip out their throat and watch their own life drain from them.”

  “I don’t…” Nathanial shook his head. “I need to…” Fuck, he felt as feeble as a newborn human babe. A cold shudder rocked through him. Pain lanced up his wings. He groaned, his knees giving out.

  “Whoa there, big guy.” Kade hoisted him upward again, steadying him on his feet. “What do you need us to do?”

  Nathanial shook his head again. He had to get back to Billie.

  Erah? He reached out for the other angel.

  Silence.

  Was his brother okay?

  “I’m alright.” He tapped Kade’s hand, all too aware his own shook.

  The vampire slowly let him go. And caught him the second he crumpled again.

  “Yeah. I can see that.” Kade flicked Nim another look. “I want the being responsible for this. Now.”

  “Sure, boss. I hear you.” Nim frowned at Nathanial. “But first…” She stepped forward and, eyes closing, touched Nathanial’s chest again.

  A warm ribbon unfurled through his body from the contact, melting a path through the ice trying to devour him, filling the hungry void with heat.

  Nim’s heat. The heat of a white wiccan.

  “What are you doing?” Kade asked, his hand still around Nathanial’s arm.

  “Giving him a top-up. Kinda.” She smiled at Nathanial. “That’ll help. A little. Until you can—”

  “Billie,” Nathanial mumbled. The heat spread through him faster. Through the void. “I need to get to Billie.”

  “The human James told us about?” Kade’s eyes narrowed. “Is she in trouble?”

  Nathanial flexed his wings.

  * * * *

  “This is the second time you’ve…” Heat filled Billie’s cheeks, and she hugged the pillow closer to her chest, arching an eyebrow at James. “Y’know.”

  Her brain, still struggling to process the fact Nathanial had vanished a few minutes ago, was furiously reminding her the only thing covering her birthday suit was said pillow.

  James, now at the large window, one hand pressed to the glass, the other rubbing at the back of his neck, tossed her a look over his shoulder. “Shite. Sorry.”

  The softest of touch caressed her skin as a pair of jeans and a loose white linen shirt materialized on her body.

  “Whoa.” She scrambled off the bed and looked down at herself.

  “Do they fit?” He frowned. “Women’s sizes have always tripped me up. Every bloody country is different. A six here is completely different to a six in, say, New Zealand.”

  “They fit.” And they did. Perfectly. The faded jeans were the most comfortable she’d ever worn, and the shirt, while loose and baggy, hung from her shoulders with stylish perfection. Throw on a killer pair of heels and some flashy jewelry and she’d have no problem attending a fan convention or industry event.

  He nodded and turned back to the window. Outside, the day was summer perfection. Not a cloud marred the blue sky and towering trees reached for the Heavens. Just where was Nathanial’s home located if she could see city lights from one side and what looked like a forest from the other?

  Another one of those questions she really needed answers to.

  “Thank you,” she said to James’s back. “For the clothes. And for helping Nathanial.” She pinched her thumbnail. “I wish I could. I feel powerless.”

  The confession left her on a wobbly sigh. Getting magically dressed by a genie should be cause for excitement. Of course, when it happened because the angel she loved had—

  Loved?

  “Oh God,” she muttered. “That’s inconvenient.”

  “You’re not powerless,” James said, turning from the vista beyond the window. “Just…a little out of your league at the moment. It’s all good though. I suspect after this, Feathers will give you a crash course in all sorts of defense techniques suitable for combatting…nonhumans.” He frowned. “And what’s inconvenient? Do you need something? Remember, I’m a pro at getting whatever you want.”

  Could he get her a new heart? One to replace the stupid one she had now? Falling in love with an angel…how was this ever going to end well?

  “Bill?”

  She blinked.

  James stood beside her, worry knitting his eyebrows. “You okay? Feathers will erase me from existence—well, try to—if you’re anything less than the way he left you, and I’d hate to disappoint him.” A small smile danced on his lips for a second. “You’re not allowed to tell him that, right?”

  “I’m okay.” Just stupid. And in love. Maybe. Oh God, what the hell was wrong with her? “Concerned, is all.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “For an actress, you’re a woeful liar.”

  She snorted, even as her heart thumped harder in her throat. “You’d be surprised how d
issimilar the two actually are.”

  More worry crossed his face.

  “Question?” She dropped back down onto the bed.

  He joined her, sitting beside her. “Sure. Hit me. Figuratively, not literally.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  He grinned, and then nudged her shoulder with his. “Go on. I’m all ears.”

  “Do many… Is it possible…” God, how did she ask this? Why was she asking this? “Can…” Damn it.

  “Can humans and nonhumans be in a relationship?” he said.

  “How did you know that’s what I wanted to ask?”

  He smiled. “As I said earlier, I’m brilliant at reading people.”

  She cocked another eyebrow at him. “Is there anything you’re not awesome or brilliant or amazing at?”

  “Hmmm, let me think…” He grinned again. “Now, as for your unspoken question—”

  Something unseen slammed into him, flinging him backward across the bed.

  “My Destiny,” a guttural voice rasped. “I finally found you!”

  Billie scrambled back on the bed, stare locked on the short man standing in the bedroom doorway, his light brown hair matted—oh God, was that blood?—his pudgy face filthy with dirt, his feverish brown eyes fixed on her.

  Oh no. Oh God, no!

  “My Destiny.” He smiled, or maybe he bared his teeth, and began walking toward her. “I’m here for you.”

  She scrambled back farther, flailing behind her. “J-James? James?”

  What had happened to the djinn? What—

  The man quickened his pace.

  Heart thrashing in her ears, she reeled backwards again. Shit, was he drooling?

  “Gilbert?” she burst out, searching for James with a swinging hand. “Are you Gilbert?”

  “I am Wraif!” he screeched, face red. Baleful yellow light flared in his eyes. “Your Wraif!”

  Heat rushed at her, like a blast from an open oven. She gasped, flinching at the gust. And then screamed when the heat turned into excruciating hot bands circling her wrists.

  Gilbert’s eyes blazed brighter yellow. “Come here.”

  The invisible bands on her wrist yanked her forward.

  “No!” She thrashed against the violent pull, heels sliding on the duvet. “No!”

  Face burning redder, he bared his teeth. “You’re mine.” Hot bands snaked around her arms, her calves.

  “Fuck you!” She clawed at the duvet. Her heels slid on the bed again. “Fuck you.”

  Gilbert shook his head, so close to the bed his stench filled her nose; stale sweat and charred meat and something else. Something older. Darker. “No, my Destiny. This is not you. This is the angel speaking. He’s corrupted you. But I can cleanse you. I can—”

  A thick arm of bruised-purple smoke—roiling and billowing over and over itself—smashed into his chest, flinging him backward into the wall.

  “Hit a djinn when he’s not looking, will you?” James materialized at the end of the attacking pillar of smoke, hair whipping back from his face, fists bunched at his side.

  The angry smoke reared back and, swelling thicker and darker, punched into Gilbert’s chest again.

  “No!” the man squealed, although he didn’t look like a man anymore. His face leaked blood, his teeth gnashed against his lacerated lips. Pummeled against the wall by the pole of smoke, his body flapped and convulsed, his limbs—somehow elongated and uneven—flailing about. “Mine!”

  “Run, Bill,” James barked over his shoulder, eyes wide, sweat pouring down his face. “Get out of—”

  A wall of red haze engulfed James, and he screamed, head back, spine bowed.

  “Mine.” The thing once Gilbert shoved away from the wall, yellow eyes fixed on him.

  Red haze rushed at James again. His body shook, twisted. His mouth moved in a silent cry.

  Get

  away

  Bill

  Billie flung herself from the bed. What did she do? She grabbed at the lamp on the side table, tearing its cord from the wall. She had to stop Gilbert. She had to—

  Get

  away

  B—

  James dropped to the floor, motionless.

  “My Destiny.” Gilbert smiled at her, stepping over his body.

  “I’m not fucking yours!” She hoisted the lamp above her head. Oh Nathanial, I need you. I need help. “Get away from me.”

  He shook his head, eyes flickering back to brown. Confusion etched his face. “I sold my soul for you.” He took another step toward her, holding out his hands. “I gave everything for you. Because I love you. And you love me. You have to! That’s the way it’s meant to be. That’s what I was promised.”

  “I don’t.” Clammy ice crawled over her flesh. She inched backward, a choked whimper falling from her when her butt hit the bedside table. “I don’t—”

  “That’s what I was promised!” he screamed, eyes yellow again.

  “I don’t care!” she screamed back.

  Heat crashed into her, shoving her into the table. She dropped the lamp.

  Oh God, it hurt. It hurt so much!

  Nathanial. Nathanial, h—

  The air splintered, flared into a million pinpoints of frenzied lights, and Nathanial burst into the room and charged at Gilbert.

  Rammed him backward. Smashed him into the wall.

  “No!” Rage contorted Gilbert’s face. He writhed, lashing out.

  And then a deafening roar filled the room and Nathanial arced backward, as if hit by an invisible blow.

  Billie ran to him, wrapping her arms around his torso. “I got you. I got you.”

  She staggered under his weight, flinching as a blast of furnace-hot air struck her.

  Nathanial groaned and righted himself. The air shimmered, and Billie felt his wings snap open through her. A rush of giddy power stole her breath. Her heart slammed into her throat—and then she cried out as Nathanial slumped again.

  She grabbed him. God, why was he shaking so much? It was as if he had no energy.

  “Drained…” he slurred, pushing himself upright, just as Gilbert charged at them.

  Nathanial spun to face Billie, hauling her to his body. She sensed his wings flex wide, and then he arched, a roar of pain tearing from him. The stench of burning feathers flooded her breath.

  And still Nathanial held her, protected her.

  I will never let him hurt you, his voice whispered in her head, as his stare found hers. Never.

  He turned.

  Whatever he did, Gilbert screamed in agony.

  And then another wall of invisible fire hit them. Nathanial staggered back a step. Billie grabbed him.

  “Stop,” she screamed at Gilbert. “Stop it. St—”

  “ENOUGH!”

  A male voice boomed, deep and powerful. The heat evaporated. Sound vanished. A blinding white flooded the room, flooded everything.

  “Enough,” the voice said again. And suddenly a man appeared, stepping out of the light. Born from it.

  Pristine white wings flexed behind him, the feathers full and flawless, the span wide and majestic. His eyes shone with an iridescent white glow, and his white shirt and pants seemed to radiate with the same light.

  “Erah,” Nathanial groaned. And yet, as Billie held him, his entire body began to thrum, to heat. His muscles tensed, grew harder. The smell of burning feathers vanished. “Brother.”

  “She’s mine!” Gilbert screeched, staring at Erah. “You can’t take her from me! I found her. I came here. I fought the angel! And now she’s mine. Mine! You promised she’d be mine! You said—”

  He disintegrated.

  “Ah, fuck,” Erah muttered in the silence, dropping his head to gaze at the floor.

  “Wh-what?” Billie blinked. She held on to Nathanial’s arm, his side. Beneath her palms, his body continued to thrum, even as he grew still. Motionless.

  “Fuck,” Erah muttered again.

  Flicking a glance at the spot Gilbert had been standing, b
ile rose up in her throat. All that was left of the geography teacher stalking her was a messy scattering of dark dust on the carpet.

  A life, a human, gone. Just like that.

  Near the smudge, James remained motionless. Was he breathing? Did djinn breathe? Was he dead? Would Nathanial be able to resurrect him?

  “Erah?”

  She gripped Nathanial’s arm tighter, the low rumble of his voice catching her breath. The air around him—around them both—seemed to crackle and arc.

  The other angel lifted his head, his smile brilliant. Beatific. “Brother.” He slid his gaze to her, and her skin crawled. “We saved the human. Together.”

  Nathanial’s muscles coiled under her hands. “What did he mean, you promised?”

  Erah’s smile stretched wider. “The human was just gibbering. Scared. Insane. Whoever orchestrated his metamorphosis into the demon he’d become must be hunted down. Punished. We will do it together, Nathanial. Like old times. Whoever it is must be found, no matter how long it takes us. Together, we will find—”

  “What did he mean,” Nathanial repeated. “You promised?”

  The air crackled again. Every hair on Billie’s body stood at attention. Her teeth began to ache. Her pulse turned into a cannon, pounding in her ears.

  Erah smiled again.

  Billie bit down on the inside of her mouth. Every time he smiled, she wanted to throw up.

  The subtle smell of ozone threaded into her breath, as if a fierce, unseen electrical storm raged around them. And yet the only things moving were Nathanial’s muscles—coiling, stiffening—and Erah.

  Ice-blue stare locked on Nathanial, he tossed his head toward the dust particles that once were Gilbert. “Humans are so stupid. I’ve never understood why they are His favored ones.”

  “What. Did. He. Mean?” The words left Nathanial on a low growl. The windows rattled with each one.

  Billie swallowed, scanning the room. What would hurt an angel? What could she hit Erah with?

  Hit? Why…what are you thinking?

  She didn’t know. But something wasn’t right. This angel was almost too gorgeous to look at, her brain couldn’t process it, and yet…

  He was the angel she’d seen Nathanial talking to before, the one helping him find Gilbert. So why did it sound like Nathanial was about to rip him apart?

  And why did she feel ill every time he looked at her?