Devin

“Put your dick back in your pants and come with me, you horny vampire bastard.”

Nothing kills a hard-on like the messenger of God poofing into existence just as a gorgeous woman is about to take your dick into her mouth.

With a touch of his finger to her forehead, Gabriel sends my partner for the night into a deep slumber, and I tuck myself back into my pants.

“Dammit, Feathers. Things were just getting good,” I groan.

The asshole smirks and leans against the dresser. “Sorry. Oh, wait. No. I’m not. You should be used to this by now. Besides, you should know that you won’t be able to … reach completion unless she’s meant for you.” He frowns, distaste clear in his expression. “That one is not yours, or Sariel’s.” With a sneer, he turns his face away from the sleeping woman. “We’ve found traces of the Watchers in your old stomping grounds.”

“I’m over two hundred years old. My old stomping grounds could be anywhere on the fucking planet.”

He rolls his eyes and lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Seattle. There seems to be quite a few of them gathering in Seattle. Let Sariel out. I need to discuss this with him.”

I let out a breath and run my fingers through my hair. I can’t believe it’s been almost five years since I agreed to this mess and allowed a fallen angel—incubus, Watcher, whatever you want to call him—to take up residence in my body.

I’d been so fucking naive to focus only on getting to use my cock for more than just decoration. Being a vampire has a lot of positives, but impotence is not one of them.

There are other good things that go with this deal, I’m sure, but I was really only thinking below the belt. Two-hundred-plus years without an orgasm is really unfair. And now, I’m walking around with Sariel in my head, a cock that works but won’t let me come, and I’m functioning as a one-man army against legions of the fallen. Somehow, I think I got the raw end of this fucking deal.

“Sariel doesn’t want to come play. He’s pouting at the moment because I haven’t been able to feed him … for almost five fucking years.” I sound tense, and for good reason. The angel gets cranky when he’s hungry, and me feeding on blood doesn’t do it for him the way sex does. I rake my fingers through my sandy-blond hair and try to find him in my consciousness. I’d much rather he take over and deal with Feathers. No dice. The moody Watcher is MIA.

“So, what are the minions of Satan doing in Seattle?” I fight the urge to sigh as Gabriel stands and begins pacing the floor.

“We think they’re converging in order to launch an attack.”

“An attack on who? It’s not like they can just storm the gates of Heaven from the top of the Space Needle.”

Cocking an eyebrow, the smarmy angel stares me down. “They’re gaining strength. Their numbers have grown rather than dwindled. You haven’t been doing your job.”

“Hey, I’m just one man. I’ve taken out hundreds of Watchers, but they keep coming back. Immortal beings … remember? The vampire might die, but you can’t kill a fallen angel. They’re kind of like herpes.”

A rare smile quirks the corners of Gabriel’s mouth. “Speaking from personal experience?”

“Shut up, or I’ll shove your damn halo up your celestial ass.”

“You need to get to Seattle by tomorrow. I’ve already contacted Galen. He’ll meet you there. The home he owns in the city is warded against the Watchers and should keep you and Sariel cloaked.”

My stomach clenches at the mention of my friend. I haven’t seen him since I took Sariel from him. I suppose I should be grateful to Sariel for that. The Watcher’s shift from Galen’s body to mine should have killed Galen. Instead, I had waited in awe as the fallen angel went up against an archangel, demanding my friend be saved and his soul returned. Now my friend Galen is a human, happily married, with a four-year-old son I’ve never met.

“He shouldn’t be involved in this. He’s human. You’re going to get him killed and leave Reese a widow.”

“He knows what he’s doing. Besides, the Watchers aren’t after him anymore, but his son is another matter.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The boy has been manifesting … unusual qualities.”

Sariel stirs in my head. That little nugget of information perked him up.

“What kind of qualities?”

“Grace. He has a trace of Sariel’s grace.”

Immediate, blinding pain grips my skull as Sariel charges forward and my world goes dark.

* * *

Willow

“Yeah, you’d better run, you sons of bitches!” The groans of pain coming from the stupid punks who’d tried to mug me make me want to jump for joy as I watch them stumble away. I may be small, but I’m a sandan black belt, and I know how to defend myself. Those assholes may have thought I’d be an easy target. They were wrong.

Smiling to myself, I pick up the bag of groceries I’d dropped as I’d roundhouse kicked one of them. The plastic had ripped, and now my apples are scattered across the pavement.

“Damn.” As I gather the runaway fruit, I frown when I see bruises marring the red skin. They were all I’d gone to the store for, and now they’d been sullied, all because of a couple of jackasses.

After tucking the fruit into my backpack, I hitch the bag high on one shoulder and make my way toward my apartment. Rain mists the air, coating my skin and hair in a fine sheen of frizz-inducing moisture. Thank fuck I’m almost home. I’ve got a pint of Death by Chocolate ice cream waiting in the freezer, and I feel a Sons of Anarchy binge coming on. I need a bad-ass biker to distract me from the rest of my shitty day.

I’m distracted, my mind wandering back to the potential mugging I’d avoided, as I fish my keys out of my pocket, stepping off the curb and into the street without looking—like a fucking idiot. The squeal of tires has me turning and staring at the bright headlight and chrome rims of a Harley-Davidson. The tire is so close, I can feel the vibration of the engine against my leg.

“What the hell are you doing?” The man on the bike stares me down. His eyes burn a vivid blue in the light of the streetlamp.

My heart flutters like a godforsaken teenage girl as his gaze travels over my body. I’m sure I look like a hot mess in my workout clothes with my hair piled high on my head in a messy bun. But the way he’s staring makes heat coil low in my belly, and I have to clench my thighs together to keep from squirming as the arousal crashes over me.

“Are you going to get out of my way?” His question holds a hint of amusement, making me snap out of my lust-fueled stupor.

“Oh, sorry. Thanks for not killing me.”

As I step off the road and onto the sidewalk, I expect to hear his engine rev. Instead, a hand grips my wrist over the thick fabric of my sweatshirt. Instinctively, I turn, reaching up to grab his shoulder. In less than a second, I’m stepping around before I sweep his legs out from under him. Hovering over his big body, I breathe heavily, adrenaline coursing through me.

“What the fuck?” His eyes are wide, disbelief coloring his features. “How did you do that so fast?”

I let him go and take a step back, not wanting to give him the chance to get his hands on me again. “Don’t come any closer, asshole.”

He slowly gets to his feet, hands held up and a placating expression on his handsome face. My keys dangle from his left hand. “You dropped these.”

Oh my God. Mortification sets in and I can feel the heat of a blush flood my cheeks. So, I may have overreacted a bit. Closing my eyes in a long blink, I let out a frustrated sigh. “Shit. I’m sorry. It’s been the worst fucking day, and I’m a little on edge.”

Arching a blond eyebrow, he smirks. “A little?”

“A lot.” I hold my hand out for my keys. As his fingers touch mine, a sizzle of electricity runs through my body. Skin to skin makes a hell of a difference. I suck in a breath, trying to avoid his gaze, but I can see the tension between us isn’t one-sided, as his shoulders stiffen.

He pulls his hand away and shoves it in the front pocket of his jeans. “What’s your name?”

“Willow.” I don’t know why I’m giving him my real name. No one has called me that in almost six years—except for Alanna. I’ve been lots of different girls over the years, but my most recent name has been Lorelei. That’s what people know me as here in Seattle. And when I move on again, I’ll choose a new name.

The man looks me over, a darkness in his eyes that sends a shiver of anticipation through me. “I’m Devin.” He doesn’t hold his hand out, and I have to say, I’m a little relieved.

Squaring my shoulders, I look up at him and nod. “Nice to meet you. Sorry I kicked your ass to the ground. You should learn not to sneak up on people.”

A laugh falls from his lips … his full, playful lips that I want to suck on. “No problem. It’s not often I get schooled by a gorgeous woman half my size.”

I try to ignore the fact that he just called me gorgeous, but my traitorous nipples harden as the word flows through my head like a caress. Thank God I’m wearing a baggy sweatshirt … and a bra. He bites his lower lip and pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, twirling it between his fingers before, curiously, putting it back.

“Smoking will kill you, you know.” My scolding tone makes him smirk.

He chuckles and shakes his head in response. As I turn and begin walking away, I can’t help but look back over my shoulder. He’s watching me, an intense fire burning in those bright blue eyes. Raising his chin, he nods in my direction and starts back toward his bike.

Shivers run down my spine as I turn the corner and head up the stairs to my apartment. My body is ablaze with need as flashes of his eyes, lips, broad shoulders, and the rough baritone of his voice replay. I said I wanted a hot biker. I guess I should be careful what I wish for.