The air left Quinn’s lungs on impact with the hard, cold grass. Wyck’s weight held her in place, delicious and hard. His muscular left thigh pressed between her legs and her face was buried in his shoulder, her head cradled in his hands. She couldn’t see a thing, but she heard the loud bang.

They weren’t alone.

The acrid smell of rotten eggs burned her nose and pure evil choked her throat.

A visit straight from Hell, it seemed.

Eventually, Wyck moved off her and Quinn scrambled to her feet, reaching for weapon she usually carried in a sheath at her waist. Except she’d forgotten it back at his apartment. Damn. She’d carried her weapon since the day those lying, cheating otherworldly bastards had first showed up at her lab and now when she needed it most it was gone.

It was all his fault, distracting her with his gorgeous face and killer body. She glared at his back now. He stood in front of her, as if to shield her from whatever attacked them, but she didn’t need or want his protection. Still, she couldn’t seem to stop her gaze from drifting down to his trim hips and taut butt framed to perfection in those tight faded jeans. And yeah, he’d brought his weapons—a wicked looking dagger and a holstered gun. He’d drawn the Glock.

Good. Quinn raced past him, seizing his dagger on the way, ignoring his protests. Before them stood a demon—huge, horned, black as sin, and belching smoke and flames in the darkness. Most likely whatever had taken the Nephilim the other night had also unleashed this monster. But Quinn had done her homework and knew her demonology. This was a henchman, nothing more than hired muscle. No way he’d have had the power to vaporize a Nephilim. Besides, the foot soldiers of Hades were not subtle. If this beast had taken the half-breed anywhere, there would not have been a neat charred circle on the ground. More like a deep trench from dragging the dead body and perhaps a few craters as well.

The demon opened its massive jaws and exhaled a massive fireball. Flames shot toward Quinn and she dived left, the shockwaves knocking her to the ground. She rolled and jumped to her feet, running toward the hellish minion.

Wyck had vanished. Typical man.

The demon hadn’t gotten him, at least she didn’t think it had. A second fireball flashed past her, close enough to scorch the sleeve of her blouse. She doubled her pace, dodging around to approach the demon from behind. The creature’s size made it slow and cumbersome.

From the shadows, Quinn charged straight for her infernal opponent, raising Wyck’s dagger at the same time. The weapon was heavier than her own, but she adjusted, swiping at the creature. At five-hour, she barely reached the thing’s knees. The demon growled, exposing jagged, yellow teeth that could easily crush her skull. In fact, it could probably devour her entire body in one bite.

Fear didn’t stop her. In fact, Quinn used it as fuel to keep going. The theme of the night seemed to be kill or be killed, and she wasn’t going to die.

The demon tracked her movements with its bright orange gaze. Thick black smoke billowed from its pig-like snout, accompanied by the occasional spark. She attacked again, hacking at the creature’s hand then darting sideways as it swiped at her like a bothersome insect.

Quinn glanced around again. Still no sign of Wyck.

So much for those chivalrous vows he’d given earlier. From the way he’d talked, he was her personal guardian and had powers that could easily overcome and destroy any foe.

All she had at the moment was his stupid dagger.

A stream of fire shot from the demon’s mouth as it roared. Quinn dived, rolling across the slippery grass to avoid being toasted, her fury reaching it’s zenith. Nothing pissed her off more than a bully who picked on those smaller and more vulnerable than themselves. She’d dealt with more than enough of them to last her a lifetime.

After tonight, there’d be one less bully in the universe.

With a fearsome battle cry, Quinn raced forward. As she neared the demon, however, a bright beam radiated down from the sky above, hurtling her backward. Her butt hit the wet ground and she lost her grip on the dagger. She squinted toward where the demon stood on the sidewalk, still as stone. She tracked the blinding beam of light upward to where Wyck hovered mid-air, palms extended, his expression determined.

Quinn scrambled to her feet and dusted herself off then stomped over to where the dagger lay in the wet grass. She grabbed the hilt and cautiously approached the frozen demon.

Wyck descended, looking smug.

He landed in front of her, one blond brow quirked in triumph. And yes, what he’d done was impressive, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. His ego was big enough already.

“What was that all about, David Copperfield?” She poked him in the chest with her finger, ignoring his dark frown. “That thing could’ve killed me while you were flitting around.”

“Scion do not flit.”

“Well, whatever you were doing, maybe you could tell me about it ahead of time instead of flying off and leaving me to fend for myself?”

“That would have wasted precious time. Besides, I’ve told you your protection is my sworn duty and no harm would have befallen you on my watch.”

“No harm, huh?” She rubbed her sore backside.

“Are you hurt?” The anger in his expression melted into concern.

And damn if she melt a little inside to know he was worried about her. Honestly, she couldn’t seem to stay mad at him when he gave her those puppy dog eyes. It was exhaustion causing her weakness toward him. That had to be it. Prior to the evening of the first attack, she’d been pulling all-nighters to complete her latest experiments with crop regeneration.

“I’ll live,” she muttered, shifting her attention to the demon still trapped in the light. “What do we do with it? Can’t leave it here for people to see. That would cause a crisis.”

Wyck waved his hand and the demon ascended toward the starry sky. The creature’s huge form grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared from view, leaving only the two of them in dim glow of the streetlights.

“They’ll put him in a holding cell in the Empyrean prisons. Divinity and the other Scion will question him and get the answers we need.” Wyck extended his hand, his gaze darting from her eyes to his dagger then back again.

He wanted his weapon and Quinn reluctantly gave it to him. He jammed it back in the sheath at his waist, then extended his hand again.

“What?”

That brow of his quirked again and she swallowed hard.

“I don’t hold hands.”

“That would be nice, but right now I want to heal you.” His clipped tone dripped with sarcasm. “C’mon, we don’t have all night.”

“Don’t bother.” Quinn gave him an arch stare , hopefully conveying without words exactly where he could shove his healing. The last thing she needed was him touching her again because if he did, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to resist. She changed subjects instead. “They have prisons in Heaven?”

“Of course.” Wyck shrugged and turned away.

“I guess that makes sense, given you immortal warriors are out rounding up bad guys.” She looked him over. “That is what you do, right? In your downtime.”

He gave her some serious side eye. “The Scion hunt whomever Divinity commands, yes.”

“I like that you have a female boss.” Quinn couldn’t resist teasing him. All that noble bearing was just such an easy target—all bronzed skin and flashing green eyes, powerful muscles and silky blonde hair, hidden behind his geekster garb.

Truthfully, he could slay her without ever lifting a weapon. Quinn cleared her throat to chase away the forbidden thought. She wasn’t going to get involved with this man, whoever or whatever he was. She had too much on the line, too much baggage from her past, too much emotional damage. “We should go.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, just stared at the sky, his expression pensive. Finally, he asked, “What’s Paradise Lost?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Besides an epic poem by John Milton?”

“Yes. The demon had it in his mind when I apprehended him and I doubt he’s a literature lover.”

She knew, from her boss at the lab. “Uh, I’m not sure you want to go there. It’s a—”

“Strip club?” He smiled, his white teeth dazzling in the darkness. “Makes sense, from the images I gathered.”

“Oh.” He seemed unfazed by the idea, like hanging out with exotic dancers was perfectly normal for a divine warrior. Quinn tugged her arms around herself and headed for the exit. “Fine. Whatever you say. Let’s go.”

Paradise Lost had a reputation as a sleaze pit and for a good reason. It was the sort of club guys went to when they wanted to get off their rocks off without any strings or consequences attached. Unfortunately, the other half of the patrons were either druggies, pimps, or worse, to cater to their clients’ every whim. Whims that could get a nosy Heaven dweller put in permanent exile.

Wyck said he was investigating some secret Nephilim conspiracy, and she feared she had a pretty good idea now of how the club might fit into that. She’s suspected for a while now that the half-breeds were after her Project Replenish serum, which could regenerate an crop, regardless of disease or level of destruction. What she hadn’t worked out yet was why they wanted it. Her boss at the lab, Samuel Una, had become involved in management at the club shortly after the Nephilim had bought them out. She shuddered to think her old friend might have betrayed her somehow by selling her research to the half-breeds, but here was only one way to find out. Besides, Sam had adopted a strict no violence policy for patrons who frequented the club. Going there tonight shouldn’t be too dangerous. Most of the club goers obeyed the rules. Those who didn’t were dealt with in a way that warned the rest to stay in line. Sam was her friend, her mentor. Surely he wouldn’t allow those brutal, lying Nephilim to harm her.

“You’re quiet,” Wyck said, walking beside her. “Thinking again?”

“Yes, about Paradise Lost.”

“Walking will take far too long. I’ll get us there quicker.”

Before she could respond, he swept her into his arms and stepped into a swirling rainbow vortex of light that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Seconds later they were floating high in the air. Quinn gasped and clung to him.

“Oh, God. Are you sure this is safe?” The ground drifted farther away, and her stomach knotted.

“I won’t drop you. No need to fear.”

“There’s every reason to fear. This is why God invented planes.”

“Humans invented planes. Divinity created vortexes. They’re far quicker and I’m tired of walking.”

The stubborn set of his jaw told Quinn her argument was futile.

The world rushed by below them and she hid her face again. This wasn’t her usual strong persona, but she didn’t like heights and the thought of how far they had to fall was terrifying. But her instincts said Wyck wouldn’t drop her.

She trusted him that much, at least.

“I need directions to this club,” Wyck said.

Quinn slowly peered down, trying to make sense of the maze of lights and buildings. SunTrust Plaza glowed like a beacon in the distance and she pointed toward it. “Head that way. Once we reach the tower, I’ll know where to go.”

He did as she asked. “Do you think Paradise Lost is the sort of place the Nephilim have contacts?”

She gazed up at his profile, distracted again by the straight line of his nose, the slight tilt to the corners of his eyes behind those glasses, the chiseled perfection of his jaw. The wind ruffled his hair, causing his bangs to whip across his forehead.

“Maybe. But they’ve kept a low profile around town. Mostly they just invade my lab and my privacy.” She frowned. “Before they showed up, I spent my days running calculations and experiments, watching crops grow in our artificial environments. Never thought I’d become some sort of otherworld crusader.”

“What exactly is your research?” His gaze met hers, full of questions.

“Crop regeneration. I’ve discovered a way to genetically alter plant genomes to make them virtually immortal. Completely disease resistant and perfect in every way.”

“Kind of like me?” he said, his tone snarky and his grin wide.

“Yes!” Then, flustered, she backtracked. “I mean, no.”

Her cheeks burned. Yes, he was immortal, and dammit he was nearly perfect, but ugh. There wasn’t a snowballs chance in Hell she should flirt with him like that. She didn’t flirt. She couldn’t flirt. She was hopeless when it came to romance. No matter how she might wish otherwise.

Wyck stopped near the top of the SunTrust tower and hovered, waiting for her guidance. She focused and got her bearings then directed him toward Paradise Lost. Minutes later they landed in an alley behind the club. It was closer to dawn now than midnight and the neon sign above the door was dark. The streets were empty. They tried the entrance and found it locked.

“Guess we’ll have to come back tomorrow.” Quinn winced. She should have said he could come back tomorrow, then then left him to find the Nephilim on his own. That would have been the sensible course, the safe course. But then they’d made a deal with him, formed a partnership, and her sense of honor wouldn’t let her back out. “I mean, if that’s what you want to do.”

She stepped away, but Wyck caught her arm. “I want to discuss our strategy, as partners.”

The way he said that word, partners, made her insides quiver with anticipation. Except they could never be the sort of partners she wanted. It would never work.

She had her duties at her lab, her career-driven goal to stop world hunger. He had his divine calling as a Scion. She still wasn’t certain about all that apocalyptic Seal malarkey he’d given her earlier, but she definitely believed he was from the heavenly realms after seeing what he did at the plaza with the demon and the dirt.

He’d claimed to have free will, but she had no idea how far that freedom extended, and she didn’t want to be responsible for him losing his job and him home.

“I should go.” She tried to pull away, but he didn’t release her wrist. “I have to return to my lab tomorrow.”

“Why?” Wyck moved closer. His front brushed hers and she trembled at the contact. “Give me a few hours and I can connect your lab remotely to the computers at my apartment and you can work safely from there until this is all over.”

Quinn was stunned. Alarm bells went off in her head, not because she was afraid he’d steal her research but because she wasn’t sure she could stay in such close proximity to him for another day and still keep her hands to herself. She yearned for so much more with him, even knowing he’d only break her heart in the end. He was too fine, too smart, too good looking for someone like her. Instead, she blinked up at him, losing a battle she didn’t have the heart to fight.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” She tugged on her hand and this time he let her go. She missed his touch immediately. “But if it’s the only option we have, then I guess you do what you need to do.”

The words sounded cold, even to her own ears, but hiding behind her efficient, prim façade was so much easier than facing the truth. And the truth was she wanted him, even though she could never have him.

Wyck gave a curt nod then summoned another vortex. He wrapped an arm around her waist and they took flight again. This time, she looped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder, because it felt so good to touch him. He held her close and brushed his cheek atop her head, nuzzling his lips against her hair.

Quinn knew she wasn’t the only one battling her desire.

But she had a fateful feeling she’d be the one to surrender.