Eve of Chaos

The rage of angels gave her blue eyes a golden tinge. Her voice resonated with an archangel’s command, “Do not threaten me, Abel.”



“I won’t.” His mouth curved. “Just reminding you that I have teeth, and they do bite.”



As quickly as it came, her rage was gone and in its place was arousal. Despite her claws, or maybe because of them, she craved a firm hand. His hand was firmer than most. But while Sara liked rough sex— regardless of who her partner was—Eve had been shocked by her enjoyment of his handling. She’d responded with complete abandon, in a way that Sara never could because the archangel was devoid of the ability to care deeply for anyone but God. Eve’s helpless pleasure had added an edge to their encounter that he craved like a junkie.



But no one could ever know that, or how much he needed her now that Cain was an archangel. Through his connection to her, Reed could conceivably tap into his brother’s knowledge and power. He could learn along with Cain, then surpass his brother as he always did.



If his tie to Eve was strong enough.



If she trusted him enough to let her guard down.



If they were lovers.



“Abel.” Sara stood and rounded the desk. Her fingers went to the button of her coat and slipped it free, exposing a black camisole and hard nipples. “You look so lovesick when you are thinking of her, you know. But I would be happy to play surrogate. . . for now.’,



He lunged for her, vaulting from the chair and tackling her to the carpeted floor. Her cry was tinged with both pain and excitement. Bright-eyed and panting, she writhed beneath him. He settled between her spread legs and ground lewdly against her.



“You want it?” he whispered, his mouth hovering just above hers.



“No.”



Reed smiled grimly at the familiar game. “Good. Because you’re not going to get it until you help me get Raguel.”



Sara stilled. “What?”



“You heard me.” Shoving off of her, he pushed to his feet. “I get what I want, you get what you want.”



She laughed, but it was a mirthless, bitter sound. “As you said earlier, you have nothing I cannot get elsewhere.”



“Then get it elsewhere and leave me alone.” He straightened his tie and ran a hand through his hair.



Sprawled on the floor and disheveled, she remained undiminished. “I can destroy you.”



“Do it’ he taunted. “It would benefit both of us. It’s so cliched, you know. This vixenish, sex-starved, femme fatale role you play. You need a makeover, Sara. Perhaps if I’m gone, you’ll get one.”



For a moment, Reed thought she might shred him to pieces. She could, if she desired. She was far more powerful than he was in every way. Then the moment passed. Her expressive face showed the transformation from furious indignation to sly consideration. She held her hand out to him for assistance. Catching her wrist, he pulled her to standing.



“Why such concern for Raguel?” she asked, righting her clothing.



Reed shook his head. What he wanted from Raguel was for him alone to know.



“I underestimated you.” Her tone was thoughtful. She thrust her fingers into her shoulder-length tresses and shook them out. “Trust me on this point: Evangeline cannot be pulled to you. She must be pushed. Rescuing Raguel will not be enough to win her from Cain.”



“Why are you so fixated on Eve? Get over it.”



“I want you to get over her,” Sara said without inflection. “And the surest way to do that is to let you have your fill.”



He watched the way her gaze darted around the room. Cain’s room. The seat of his new power. Understanding dawned. “Ah, I see. Clever girl. This doesn’t have anything to do with me. Or sex. This is about my brother.”



For once he wasn’t needled by Cain’s prominence. He was, instead, relieved Eve was not the focus.



Her chin lifted. “Must everything in your life be about him?”



“Don’t put this on me,” he admonished, amused by her chagrin. “You have to compete with a new archangel, one who retains Jehovah’s favor no matter how fucked up he is. Giving Eve to me means getting her away from Cain. That might make him crazy enough to do something stupid. Maybe prompt a response that might prove him unworthy of the ascension”



“You are obsessed with—”



“I like the way you think, Sara’ he interjected. “Don’t ruin my moment of admiration with your bitching.”



Her mouth snapped shut.



Reed moved to the desk and leaned against it. “I’m surprised you approached me with the Eve angle, though. Why not dangle Cain as the bait? Did you really believe she would be more of a draw than my brother?”



“I have never seen you so focused on a woman. I saw the tape. Of you and her in the stairwell. When you marked her.”



A surge of fury moved through him. That was for him and Eve alone. The thought of someone else observing—especially Sara—made his gut and fists clench.



He uncurled his fingers one by one.



“Ah, but she’s not just any woman, is she?” he murmured. As Sara’s mouth curved in a smile, he knew he had her. “We want the same thing, and we’re agreed on how best to get it.”



Eyeing him warily, she returned to her seat. “So…?”



“I don’t think Izzie’s enough to lure him away, or to drive Eve to me.”



“Iselda had him once.”



“When he thought he couldn’t have Eve. That’s not the case “You spoke of favors owed. What favor would he have cashed in to be promoted?”



Reed stilled. “Maybe. . .“ he murmured, “it’s a favor he promised.”



After a moment of silence, she began to applaud, each measured clap like a gunshot in the room. “Brilliant.”



“Find out to whom,” he ordered, “and—if you can— what the ante is.”



“Well,” she drawled, “that will only take me a few decades. I am not even certain how many seraphim and cherubim there are.”



He knew she would find a way. She wouldn’t be the last female archangel heading a firm, if she wasn’t both ruthless and resourceful.



As for Raguel, Reed would have to seek alternate routes to reach him, and he would have to move cautiously and alone. No archangel would initiate an offensive maneuver against Sammael, which ensured that no mal’akh or Mark would help him either.



To whom did one turn when he wished to go where angels feared to tread?



He turned away from Sara.



To a demon, of course.



Another horde of tengu.



Alec looked at Eve and groaned inwardly. She attracted disasters. And it had nothing to do with her smelling like a Mark.



“Come here,” he beckoned, his voice resonant with an archangel’s command but lacking coercion. He wanted her to come freely.



She looked at him with wary eyes, sensing the turmoil within him. He wondered if she heard the stirrings in his head,the needs that hissed like serpents, prodding his temper and making him both irritable and mischievous.



If she only knew what that prim pink shirt of hers did to him. The snug fit made it hard for him to concentrate on the task at hand. He wanted her; the darkness in him pushed him to take her, while another part of him was far more fascinated by the little freckle on her nape and the small section of silky hair that was always falling out of her ponytail. The two halves were fighting all the time, exhausting him and leaving him confused.



Did all archangels suffer a similar duality? Or was he—Cain of Infamy—uniquely evil in a way he’d denied for centuries?



As an archangel, he had been stripped of the ability to love anyone but God, but his need for Eve was more urgent than ever. Malevolent voices had joined him with the ascension. They whispered deep within his breast, fueled by the connection he had to all the Infernals within the firm. As long as Eve was near, his control was tenuous. She was a beacon in the gloom and he craved her in a ferocious way, but he couldn’t relinquish her, even for her own benefit. She was a direct line into Abel’s head and all the knowledge his brother had gained in the centuries he’d been a handler. As a fledgling archangel, Alec needed that information to run the firm.



He couldn’t keep his promise to help free her from the mark. Not yet.



Maybe never.



“I can never read what you’re thinking,” she said, “when youhave that particular expression.”



“I can show you what I’m thinking. . .“ He was unable to curb the edge to his words.



“You and your brother are more alike than you realize.”



“Perhaps we’re more alike than you realize,” he warned. His smile felt cruel. He wouldn’t be able to resist having her much longer, and when it happened, he doubted he could be as gentle with her as he’d once been.



A shadow passed over her features and through her mind. A sense of loss and melancholy.



Regret settled heavily over him, his humanity waxing and the recklessness waning in response to her withdrawal.



“Come here,” he repeated, gentler this time, his hand extended to her.



With her chin lifted, Eve descended the few steps between them. Frustrated by that hint of reluctance, Alec caught her around the waist and pulled her flush against him. He shifted so quickly that she was still midgasp when they alighted on a nearby rooftop.



She smacked him on the shoulder. “You could have warned me!”



He nipped the end of her nose with a tiny love bite. “I could have. But this was more fun.”



“For who?”



“For both of us. I know you, daredevil. You’re the type of girl who’d take off with a stranger on a Harley just for the ride.”



Her nose wrinided. “Where’s a stranger on a Harley when I need one?”



“What? And miss this party?” He gestured to the roof of Gadara’s unfinished building.



A couple of dozen tengu danced excitedly around the massive ventilation and air-conditioning units dotting the shiny metal top. Each little gray stone beast was the size of a gallon of milk. They sported tiny wings and broad grins. Eve had once called them cute, although they were far from cuddly.