Aurora had to get the hell out of here. There was no way she was going to sit around and wait for Hawkyn to serve her up to Drayger like a main course. If Drayger could, indeed, track her, she’d just keep moving until she could set up a trap to either kill him or bleed him.
Killing him would probably be impossible thanks to Hawkyn’s protection, but if she could just get some blood, she could try Wytches_Float’s instructions for breaking his ability to track. Of course, she’d need a sex partner for that too.
She suddenly pictured herself in bed with Hawkyn, his muscular body moving with hers, his strong hands touching her, stroking her, giving her the kind of pleasure she hadn’t experienced in far too long. Feminine instinct told her he was the kind of male who would be dangerous in the sack, not because he was violent, but because he was addictive. She’d barely gotten a taste of him and she already understood that it would only take a single orgasm to get hopelessly hooked.
Snarling with frustration that was only partly sexual, she slipped out of Hotel Hell’s side door. After checking to make sure no one was paying any attention, she secured her duffel on her shoulder and hurried toward the pad she and Hawkyn had arrived on. She didn’t know how to operate it, but he’d said non-angels arrived and departed via a twin portal, so she had to try. How difficult could it be?
No one stopped her. Heck, no one even looked at her as she stepped onto the portal and planted her feet at the very center.
Nothing happened.
Was there a command? Or did it operate the way most of her abilities worked, with a mere thought?
Think.
She pictured a twin portal, and instantly, a rush of tingles spread through her insides. A tugging sensation came next, and the next thing she knew, she was looking at a forest, and this was definitely not Sheoul-gra.
But now what? There was a Harrowgate nearby, she was sure, but she wasn’t sensitive to them and had no idea how to find it, let alone operate it.
She should have paid more attention when Runa escorted her through the one at Underworld General.
Well, she thought, as she considered her next move, at least she wasn’t in Hell anymore. But if this was Siberia or some shit, it wouldn’t be much better. She had no money, no identification, and no idea in which direction she should start walking.
Just as she was contemplating going back to Sheoul-gra, a tall male, his face concealed inside a hooded brown robe, popped onto the pad with her.
“Coming or going?” he asked.
“Ah...I guess it depends on your point of view.” She eyed his robes and wondered if he was an angel, and if so, what kind. Weird, just days ago she hadn’t been sure angels existed, and now she was aware that there were different varieties of them. “I’m trying to get to Portland, Oregon.”
He stared at her with eyes so intense that she scrambled backward until her heels hit the edge of the pad. Power radiated from him in waves that crashed into her like an angry ocean and left it hard for her to breathe.
Was he going to hurt her? Her mind screamed for Hawkyn, and she didn’t even care that she was in this situation because she had been trying to get away from him.
“Trust your instincts.”
“What does that—”
A shower of light filled her vision, and a heartbeat later, she found herself standing in front of her house, her palms sweating, her heart pounding.
Jesus. How had she gone from living a relatively normal human life to bouncing around a supernatural landscape at the whim of beings she hadn’t even believed in mere days ago?
She inhaled a ragged breath and tried to gather her thoughts. At least she was home. She could work with that.
It was night, but the full moon was so bright that it cast shadows all around her. Inside her house, the lights on a timer had come on, the faint glow streaming through gaps in the curtains.
On the surface, everything seemed normal. But as she moved toward the path to her front porch, a chill ran down her spine, nearly paralyzing her right there on her lawn.
Drayger.
Holy shit, he was inside her house. Inside her sanctuary.
Rage, terror, and the desire to take ugly, nasty revenge bubbled up in her throat where a war cry was on deck, ready to join the blast of silver fire she was going to send streaming into Drayger’s chest. Her well of energy wasn’t completely restored, but what she’d gotten from Hawkyn would be enough for one short burst. She just had to catch Drayger by surprise.
He knows you’re here.
Yes, he probably did. But if she could hide, maybe sneak in—
The front door opened. Her fingertips burned as her power gathered. The second she saw his ugly face, he was toast.
“Aurora, no!”
Strong arms closed around her, and suddenly Hawkyn was there, his body between her and Drayger. Then, in a gust of cold wind, everything changed. The temperature. The time of day. The freaking continent.
She was no longer standing on her lawn, but on a cobblestone path. And she was no longer looking at her house, but a well-kept medieval castle.
“What the hell are you doing?” She tried to jerk away from Hawkyn’s grip. “I was going to—”
“Kill him.” Hawkyn released her and stepped back, his expression hard, cold, and despite her anger, she shivered. “You were going to kill him.”
“Damn straight I was!” She cursed, releasing the hold on her power. As it drained from her fingers, her fury drained with it. Well, some of it, anyway. “Look, you have to protect him. I get that. But I need to live.”
“What do you think I’ve been trying to make happen? That’s why I took you to the Gra.”
“You’re trying to keep me alive because you screwed up in the parking lot and you’re trying to save your own skin. Can you blame me for trying to save mine? I’m not a pizza for you to deliver.”
“Pizza?” He blinked. “What brought this on?”
“Does it matter? It’s true, isn’t it? If Drayger’s fate requires me to die, you’ll hand me over like a thin-crust pepperoni and you know it.”
“Ham.”
“What?”
“I like ham on my pizza. Not pepperoni.”
She huffed. “The pizza isn’t for you. That’s the point.”
“Your point is stupid,” he said, sounding a little tired. “Listen to me, Aurora.” He gripped her shoulders and dipped his head so his face was mere inches from hers, his gaze holding her in place even more so than his hands. “In the past, things might have been different. I’ve always done my job even if it didn’t make sense. Even if I felt that what I was doing was wrong. But I’m invested in your well-being now. I’m invested in you. I will find a way to keep you safe. You’re not a pizza. That’s why we’re here.”
She eyed the castle, wondering if anyone was covertly watching them from the battlements or the arrow slits. “Why didn’t you take me back to Sheoul-gra?”
He snarled. Actually snarled. “Because my father kicked us out.”
“Oh.” She certainly wasn’t going to touch that topic right now. Seemed to be a little sensitive. But then, she’d be prickly too if her father had kicked her out of their home. She couldn’t even imagine it, not when her parents were so loving and supportive. “So where, exactly, are we?”
He took her hand and started along the drawbridge that appeared to still be in working order. The moat beneath it teemed with... What the hell were those sharp-toothed, three-eyed things?
“We’re in Belgium.” His voice was still harsh with smoldering anger, but with every step they took, the tension eased in his body, his gait becoming looser, his shoulders pulling back. Her fingers itched to dig deep into those big muscles and massage the remaining stress away. “I lived here for a few hundred years, give or take a century.”
A splash below drew her attention, and she looked down just as one of the dolphin-sized things in the water snapped its jaws, its three eyes focused on her like she was dinner. “Don’t humans ask about the monsters in the moat?”
He laughed, a deep, lovely sound she appreciated even more after the earlier tension. “Those are horror-maws, sort of demon sharks that we use to keep enemies out when the drawbridge is up. And no, humans don’t ask about them because this castle is hidden by an invisibility enchantment. No one can see it from outside the veil except Memitim. The only reason you can see it is that we’re inside.”
Even as he spoke, she swore she could feel the magic on her skin. A guard wearing a combination of modern military BDUs and plate armor waved them through the gate and into a massive courtyard where a dozen or so men and women sparred with various weapons.
“Everyone here is Memitim,” he explained as they passed through a stone archway to the main building. “There used to be more of us here, but almost everyone has moved to Sheoul-gra. My brothers and sisters who remained are the few holdouts.”
“Why would they be holding out?”
He shrugged, making his black T-shirt ride up so she got a glimpse of tan skin just above his waistband. “A lot of reasons, I guess. Sheoul-gra can be a bit claustrophobic and creepy. Plus, Azagoth can be an asshole.” More anger billowed from him, but he seemed to put it back in some sort of container before he continued. “Some of my siblings have no desire to meet him. Ever. Can’t say as I blame them.”
Aurora couldn’t help but be sad for him – for all of his siblings, and once again she counted her blessings that she’d grown up in a stable, happy family.
They approached a door with a brass plate that said “Admin,” and he stopped. “I’ll just be a minute. Don’t run away again.” He paused. “How did you get to your house, anyway?”
“I don’t know. One moment I was standing on a landing pad thingie in a forest with a guy in hooded robes, and then I was home.”
He frowned and then nodded. “Jim Bob. He arrived in Sheoul-gra just before my heraldi alerted me about Drayger being in danger.” He shoved open the door. “I’ll be right out.”
He disappeared inside the office without explaining Jim Bob, so she wandered around the giant hall, marveling at the tapestries and portraits that depicted angels battling demons. All but one. The largest one, taking up nearly an entire wall, was of a stunning dark-haired man with piercing green eyes that seemed to look right through her. Shadows seemed to swirl around the picture, as if the man inside was swallowing the light both in the painting and in the room.
She heard footsteps behind her, knew instinctively it was Hawkyn. Or maybe she knew it was him because her heart fluttered every time he was close.
Oh, God, I’m attracted to an angel. An angel who is protecting the person who wants to slaughter me.
Really, that was pretty fucked up on more than one level.
“That’s my father,” he said, and she shivered. “Azagoth.”
“I expected him to be hideous. This throws me off a bit.” She glanced around at all the impossibly good-looking people walking around, including Hawkyn. “Does explain a lot, though. Your people are...beautiful.”
“I’m guessing yours are, too?”
She felt her cheeks catch on fire. “Are you basing that on the fact that sex demons were used in our breeding, and sex demons are always attractive?”
“No,” he said softly. “I’m basing that on you.”
She sucked in a ragged, startled breath, but she didn’t have time to respond, because a heartbeat later he was grabbing her bag and her hand and heading up a winding staircase.
“The housing administrator is giving you one of the two guest rooms on the top floor. They’re nothing special, only a little larger than the Memitim rooms, but the bed is a double instead of a single and you have a private bathroom.”
“Hawkyn!” A voice halted them in their tracks before they’d made it even halfway up the stairs.
“Fuck.” Hawkyn released her hand and they both turned around.
Down below, in the great hall, stood two angels, their wings—one set black and the other light gray—extended as if getting ready to launch into the air. Both were holding scythes, and neither looked happy to be there.
Aurora gripped the handrail so hard her palm hurt. “Who are they?”
“They’re Ascended brothers,” he said calmly, but his tone didn’t relieve the icy fear that filled her chest cavity. “And they’re here to punish me.”
* * * *
Hundreds of years ago, Hawkyn had waited, terrified and cornered, as men came to arrest him for stealing bread he’d needed to survive. He could still remember how hard his heart had pounded inside his thin body, how adrenaline had made his empty belly want to spill all over their shoes.
Shoes he didn’t have.
He’d begged for mercy, but there had been none.
Now there were two Punishers from the Memitim embassy waiting for him below, but he was a different male. He would not cower. And he would not beg.
But this was not going to be fun.
“Stay here,” he told Aurora as he dropped her bag on the steps. “No matter what happens, don’t move.” He took the steps down, keeping his eyes on the two males as he went. He’d never met these siblings, and even with the threat of violence hanging over his head, he still wondered which of the seventy-two angels Azagoth had bred with were their mothers. “Hello, boys. What brings you here?”
As if he couldn’t guess.
Someone had ratted him out. Some asshole had reported that he’d interfered in his Primori’s life, and he was going to get a thorough tongue lashing. Or maybe even a physical one.
“If you don’t know, you deserve worse than what’s going to happen to you.” The taller of the two, the one with dark hair who was the spitting image of Azagoth, stepped forward. “I’m Leonas.” He gestured to the ashen-haired male with the pale gray wings. “This is Moze.”
“Nice to meet you,” Hawkyn said, hoping they picked up every sarcastic note in his voice.
Moze snorted, but sobered at Leonas’ glare.
“We are all full brothers, sons of Azagoth and Ulnara,” Leonas said. “Which is probably why we were chosen to punish you for interfering with the actions of your Primori. Our superiors assumed you’d think we’d show mercy.” Leonas smiled, the same icy smile their father used just before he turned someone into a living work of tortured art. “We won’t.”
Shit. This was going to be way worse than a tongue lashing or some sort of sanction.
Hawkyn summoned a weapon and threw up a personal shield, but even as his scythe formed in his palm, he knew that defense was futile. Ascended angels were far more powerful than any earthbound Memitim, and sure enough, he only got two swings of the blade in before Moze had him pinned against the wall, his face eating stone.
Roaring in anger, he kicked out, catching Moze in the upper thigh with a blow that would have broken a lesser male’s leg. Moze shouted in pain, and then Hawk was the one in agony as Leonas smashed his fist into his back, right through his ribs. His fingers were like claws as they dug around until they found one of his shadow wings.
No!
Through his panting breaths and the spastic pounding of his pulse in his ears he heard Aurora’s screams for his brothers to stop, but they didn’t. Blood splashed to the floor as Leonas ripped the wing from its anchor and tossed it into the puddle at Hawk’s feet. Like the shadow it was, it dissipated, leaving no trace at all.
Emerico, he thought, trying to focus on something besides the searing, tearing misery of Leonas’ hand plunging inside him again to fish around for the remaining wing. Emerico was the one who had betrayed him. He wasn’t sure how he knew that, but it made sense, and honestly, Hawkyn didn’t blame him. Memitim were taught early in their training to put the rules and their duties ahead of everything else, including family and personal relationships.
For centuries Hawkyn had obeyed, being a good Memitim no matter what. He’d always wanted to do the right thing so he could join the Council and enforce the Memitim agenda.
Now he just wanted to burn the place down.
As Leonas tore Hawkyn’s wing away, a lightning storm of pain wracked him, robbing him of his breath, his eyesight, and, mercifully, his consciousness.