CHAPTER SIX
Thea handed her coat to Danel once he’d finished hanging his and Ronnie’s. Her new boots had left blisters on the back of her heels, and it was a relief to toe them off and set her feet free. With her purse clutched under her arm, she started the long climb up three flights of stairs. It felt like her legs weighed a thousand pounds each. And nearing the end of her pregnancy as she was, that wasn’t far from the truth. She was thoroughly tired from her day.
A motorcycle ride. An adult toy store. A hedonist club.
At O-Zone, she’d sat perched on a tall stool at the end of the bar, her body thrumming with sexual energy and nowhere to put it. Half-naked bodies ground on the dance floor. Sexy men in leather gawked at costumed women twirling in dance cages.
Dark. Light. Other. It didn’t seem to matter.
If they came and left in peace, they were welcome.
“I’m amazed that Zander allows humans into the club,” she said, raising a hand to cover her yawn.
Danel shrugged. “There’s warding on the building to discourage them but some humans have strong wills and come in anyway. The staff keeps a keen eye on them to make sure there’s no exposure. Other than that, it’s live and let live.”
Evidently. Thea saw a Darkworld female, accompanied by two males, step into one of the vacant washrooms—two. Part of her found the hedonistic atmosphere empowering. Another part of her found it unbearably frustrating.
“Did you two have a good night?” Danel asked, the three of them stopping on the landing of the second floor. “No one bothered you? Meck kept an eye on you?”
Ronnie rolled her eyes. “Meck doesn’t need to guard me when I’m standing behind a bar twenty feet below where you are. I’m fine. You shouldn’t bother him.”
Danel scrubbed a hand over his ebony goatee and shrugged. “It’s his job to watch out for the safety of the ladies in the club.”
Ronnie smiled. “I’ve worked the night shift for two years and in all that time, the biggest threat to ever loom large over me was you.”
Danel swung his arm over Ronnie’s shoulder and turned her down the hall toward their suite. “I think I feel some looming large over you coming on right now.”
Ronnie laughed and waved goodnight, the two of them devolving into a tangle of hands and laughter as they neared their private space.
Thea sighed, and started up the next flight of stairs and down to the double suite Austin designed for the Egyptian twins at the end of the third-floor corridor. Thankfully, being only half past three, Phoenix was still on patrol and Storme was in bed.
Thea made quick work of her nightly bathroom routine and closed herself in her room. In answer to Danel’s question, yes, she had enjoyed her evening. Well, most of it anyway.
Seeing Seth again . . . very naked and aroused, swirled up uncomfortable feelings inside her: attraction, regret, wanton, loneliness. Her body and mind were a jumble.
And what did he mean, she ruined his life? They shared hours of explosive passion and created a life. He refused to take responsibility for his part in that, so how had he lost anything?
She rubbed a hand over their child and sighed.
No matter what came, or what she said, she’d never regret what she and Seth shared. Their moment of connection created a child—a child she cherished and very much celebrated.
And, if truth be told, she celebrated the memory of their connection too. Seth was a virile and passionate lover. With his size and strength . . . she never imagined . . .
For the millionth time, she let her mind drift to the memories of that night. And again, uncomfortable feelings swirled to the surface. The sexual energy vibrating in her entire body all night reignited with a force and she moaned out loud.
She adored Austin, but honestly, she really did need a male.
Or maybe not. Scrambling to her feet, she fished the black plastic bag from the bottom of her purse and dumped its contents onto her bed.
Two bottles of lubricant—one warming, one not—one DVD Ronnie recommended about sexy pirates, one vibrating . . . egg? One box of condoms—ribbed for her pleasure. And one penis—amazingly sculpted and with an added feature of twelve-speed vibration.
She picked it up, studying it and comparing it to the real thing that had been pointed at her earlier tonight in the loft. A sad copy, actually.
Was this what she’d been reduced to?
You reap what you sow, right? The male she’d wanted to have sex with, hadn’t wanted her . . . and the one that had—
Goodness, she groaned again, envisioning Seth naked and angry, the bands of muscle, the chiseled jaw, the ridges and angles of physical perfection.
Her body bloomed, her nipples tightening as heat pooled between her thighs. She’d convinced herself it wasn’t Seth she saw when she drank in the sight of him but Phoenix.
It was—wasn’t it?
With the two of them identical, how could she be sure?
A wave of guilt and self-loathing threatened to drag her out to sea. Phoenix loved Storme and Storme was her friend . . . almost. They were certainly on the way to becoming friends.
No good would come of her fixating on a mated male. She needed to control her hormones and put Phoenix out of her mind. Seth wasn’t any safer in the “smart choice” categories.
Sweet Lady, she was confused.
Austin said she’d suffered the same sexual drive during her pregnancy, so likely it would pass.
At least she’d had Zander to pleasure her.
Images of Zander filled her mind. That male was one tall, dark, sexual warrior. His gallantry. His deep, sultry voice. His hair—mercy, he had a mane of hair a female could grip into and tighten her fingers into fists.
Thea rubbed the tingling in her arms and tried not to die of embarrassment. Had she truly been fantasizing about Zander? She seriously needed to excise this ache for physical contact.
Lifting the vacuumed-sealed packaged penis, she turned it over to read the back panel.
- One-year warranty
- Rechargeable
- Made from high-grade silicone
- Splash proof
- Dual motors
- Twelve stimulation presets
- Three levels of intensity
- Phthalate free
Where was the passion? Where was the racing heart and the wet warmth between her thighs? She tugged at the vacuum-sealed plastic and got nowhere. These things were hard to open. She searched for a tear corner or a starting point. Nothing. How was a girl to liberate her plastic penis sealed in this kind of packaging? Scissors.
A quick trip out to the desk in the living room and she was back and armed for liberation. Even that took effort. Plopping down on the bed, she flung the plastic to the floor and held the silicone dildo up in victory. Then she stroked it, flexed it back and forth, wrinkled her nose as she smelled it.
It wasn’t nearly as sexy as she’d hoped.
And now, quite honestly, she’d grown tired of the whole idea. Deeming her first foray into sex toys a failure, she gathered up the pile of products and deposited them in a messy heap on her dresser.
Deflated and defeated, she flopped onto the mattress and pulled the duvet over her head. No wonder her love life was such a mess—she didn’t even want to have sex with herself.
The whistled signal sounded from the front of the warehouse and Seth nodded to Hark. “You good, my brother?”
The Nubian nodded and opened their way. He appreciated working with Taharqa. The silence truly was golden. With skin as dark as a mining tunnel in a blackout and a mood to match, Hark lived the adage, “If you’ve got nothing nice to say, say nothing at all.”
That suited him just fine.
The two of them entered from the back, guns up, ears and eyes open. After centuries of working the streets together, first in Europe, then the new world when settlement expanded, they were one synchronized unit.
Hark shifted left and he scanned right. Stacked wooden skids. Forklifts. Storage racks. The rubber soles of their boots whispered over concrete as they cleared the loading area and started up a short corridor toward the front of the building.
The plans Danel sent them showed the abandoned plastics factory as a two-story maze, with offices at the front, shipping and warehouse at the back, and the industrial plant in between.
If only life were so simple.
If daemons nested, there was no telling what they’d find.
As if on cue to that, a soft whimper came from the shadows on the right.
Seth signaled that he’d check it out while Hark held the line.
The pervasive darkness offered his heightened eyesight nothing but dull, gray silhouettes. With his gun aimed and positioned close to his chest, he outed his moonstone from his pocket.
He brushed a thumb across the smooth feldspar and uttered the words to fire the ancient runes to life. A beam of Heaven’s light erupted from the stone and sliced the darkness.
What the fuck?
Four long rows of cages, floor to rafters, extended into the depths of the building. Inside each of the four-by-four cage cubes, slumped and bound to wheelchairs, sat the bodies of captives. Djinn. Ice Demons. Rugaru.
All tortured and dead by the looks of them.
W.T.F. Seriously.
Shifting between the first two rows, Seth tapped the comm in his ear. “I’ve got a nightmare of fucked up back here, boys. Watch yourselves.”
With the hair on his nape doing a jig, he panned the scene. Not much blood. No flies. The stench of excrement and rot grew as he waded deeper. They must have started the torturing at the back wall and moved inward.
“The cavalry is here, people. Who’s still breathing?”
At least one person in this mess was alive. He’d heard him.
A soft shuffle drew him around the row he was on and into the next. He found a kid, bound to a wheelchair like the others, his head shaved, and locked in some kind of metal torture gear. By the look of him, he wasn’t going to last much longer.
Shit. “I’m getting you out of there, kid. Stay with me.”
The Nephilim weapon of the heavens, a Crystalline dagger, was wicked sharp and could slice and dice anything from the three realms—metal, bone, concrete, marble.
Liiiike butter, baby.
Seth severed the lock on the boy’s cage and checked for booby-trapping before he pulled it open. His moonstone caught a row of silver tubes along the steel framing that gave him pause. The tubes were bundled along the wall, wired together in a long sequence like linked sausage.
“Hark, what do you make of that?”
Hark joined him, panned the room once with his gun, and then leaned in to study what he lit up. He straightened and hit his comm. “We’ve got pipe bombs rigged like dominoes back here. Looks like a trip trigger, but there could be a remote.”
Zander growled in their ears. “Everyone, fall back. Now.”
As Hark started to backpedal, Seth pushed into the cage and went for the boy. Phoenix had been this kid—a throwaway, tortured and forgotten. No one deserved to die like that. He hadn’t given up on his brother, and he wouldn’t give up now.
“Don’t,” Hark snapped. “Z said now.”
“I’m not leaving him.” Seth cut the bindings on the kid’s boney wrists and ankles. “You go. I’m right behind you.”
Hark cursed and started working the kid’s headgear. “Look at him. He’s dead already.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But he’s somebody’s son and deserves a chance to get home.”
Once Hark had the boy’s head free, he evacuated the cage. Seth slung the boy over his shoulder and the minute he lifted him, the chair let off a high-pitched whine.
“That can’t be good.” Seth bolted as fast as his powerful legs could propel him. He beat feet, racing after the Nubian as the world around them burst into high-velocity shrapnel.
The ping and crash of metal debris deafened. He knew the minute the first shards pierced his flesh that he was in serious trouble. “Red metal,” he gasped, pushing hard for the back exit. His thighs and arms burned as poisonous missiles shredded his muscles.
The paralytic of the alloy kicked in and he went down like a stone. Pain exploded from everywhere all at once. The only silver-lining: Hark was far enough ahead that he’d made it to the door. His brother would survive.
Zander rose from beneath the debris-wave that kicked their asses the moment they cleared the front of the plastics warehouse. The ring in his ears knocked him off-kilter but he didn’t have time for things to settle. The building hadn’t completely come down in ruins. Parts of it swayed like a drunken mofo in a windstorm—except no wind.
He searched the scene. Kyrian. Bo. Brennus. “Phoenix, check in!”
An explosion of rubble to his right brought the Egyptian back into sight. Fists clenched, wings stretched to their fifteen-foot span, his skin glowed with the rage of his dark-side. The male was truly, fucking pissed. He launched with purpose toward what was left of the building.
Hark came over the comm. “Seth is not clear.”
Fuck. That got all of them on their feet and on their way. “Seth,” he said into his comm as he launched into the night to get an aerial view. “Speak up, my brother. You good?”
Nothing.
Phoenix landed at the back entrance of the factory and looked for a way in. The building was a Jenga stack about to topple. He didn’t care about getting crushed—that wouldn’t kill him. He didn’t want to cause further damage to his brother when the guy was next to dead. At least he hoped they were dealing with “next to” dead.
His connection with Seth had flared with the impaling of red-metaled projectiles. He’d felt his twin’s agony. He’d felt his determination. And then their link dropped to silence.
Not his presence. Not his petulance. Nothing.
“There.” Zander pointed from above. “Phoenix, materialize forty feet ahead and ten to your right. That’s your best bet.”
Phoenix drew a steadying breath and tried to focus enough to dematerialize. Fuck. He was too wound. His hold on things was shot and his dark side seethed.
Between one moment and the next, metal scraped and something shifted. The last section of the building collapsed.
Damn it.
“He wouldn’t leave the kid,” Hark said.
Asshole. Seth would die because he had to play the fucking hero. Riddled with metal, he wouldn’t last long under this POS concrete and steel mangle mountain.
Senseless. Stupid. So-fucking-Seth.
Dark magic surged and snapped Phoenix’s hold.
With a silent cry of rage, he focused on the debris covering his twin and released the kraken. If he couldn’t get into the building, he’d move the fucking building.
“Holy Hell!” Bo yelled beside him. “Get him out, Z.”
“Greek, follow me.” Zander flew down and disappeared behind crags of a jagged building skeleton.
Phoenix held strong, the weight of the building testing every muscle, while the total release of his bottled-up powers burst from him like the greatest orgasm he’d ever had.
Power burned in his cells and lit him up.
Dark energy flowed with consuming certainty—arrogance, actually. This was who he was, and screw any and all who tried to hold him back. He was a dark witch, a Nephilim Watcher, a fucking powerhouse all his own.
His vision fritzed. Somewhere in his distant mind, he knew he’d gone full dark angel and that relinquishing control would cost him. He didn’t give two shits.
Brennus cursed from the sidelines of the clusterfuck that was their night. The explosion had drawn human attention and the sirens of Toronto first responders grew ever closer. He dialed up Colt and prayed the cop was on duty.
“How bad is the exposure?” Colt asked, after he explained.
“At the moment, Phoenix has gone full-witch-Jackson and is hovering half a factory in the air. Kyrian and Zander are beneath the destruction, and with our luck, will fly out with Seth exactly as the cavalry arrives.”
“Fuck me. Okay, I’m on my way.”
Awkward.
Now was soooo not the time to go there.
He dialed Danel next. “Have ye been listening in, Persian?”
The sound of footfalls and heavy breathing sounded on the other end of the phone. “Yeah. Drina’s prepping at the clinic and called Cato down. Have they found him yet?”
“Z and the Greek are looking.”
“Keep me posted. I’m heading home now to donate blood.”
Brennus hung up and rubbed his stomach. The firetrucks were a block away—two, at most. Their sirens echoed against the heart-stopping still of the night. More than the worry for his brother’s safety, or the pending exposure, he couldn’t stop thinking that the release of this much dark magic was going to leave a sasquatch-sized footprint.
And an evil one at that.
He cursed and dialed a third number. “Hey, sorry ta wake ye, lass. We have a big problem and need yer help. Yep. I’m sendin’ Bo to fetch ye now. Meet him out front.”