Heading straight to the bar, she grabbed the first empty seat. Sammy, the bartender, came to her spot. Even in the dim lighting he recognized her immediately. She really needed to get a life. Or a hobby.

“The usual?” he asked, flipping a white towel over his shoulder with a heavily tattooed hand. Hell, every exposed piece of flesh—including his face—was tattooed.

“Yep. Rough night.” She propped her elbows on the bar as Sammy gave her a dubious grin, which looked funny considering there was a dragon on his cheek.

“Can’t be that bad, hon.”

“It’s always that bad.” It was the same conversation they exchanged whenever she came here. Sammy never asked what made her nights so bad. He probably thought she was a prostitute, for all she knew. Funny, but she doubted the truth would faze him.

She people-watched until Sammy returned. Mostly college-age kids filled the club, getting wasted, hoping to get screwed in one form or another. So was she…in a way. As her gaze flitted over them, she wondered how many would actually make it home tonight. And how many she’d be facing in the near future, shoving a blade into their chest. Shit. Now she was depressing herself.

“Here you go,” Sammy announced.

She whirled in her seat, clasping her hands together. “You’re the best, you know that?”

He slid the single-serving carton of Ben & Jerry’s and the Diet Coke toward her. Pitfall of being a Nephilim: no amount of alcohol in this world could get her drunk. A plant, when cooked and stewed correctly, could do the trick, but it was highly addictive. Nathaniel would have her ass if he caught her with Angel’s Triumphant…again.

Sammy ran a hand over his bald head as his gaze slid behind her. “One of your boys just arrived. Try not to destroy the laundry room this time.”

A fierce flush crossed her cheeks as she pried open the lid and dug in, waiting for the familiar sensation of another Nephilim to trickle down her spine. One of her boys really meant one person. Gabe. And they hadn’t destroyed the laundry room last time. Not really.

The chunky-chocolate goodness was almost gone by the time Gabe decided to acknowledge her, which was fine. If she was here, and he was here, it only meant one thing.

Gabe stopped behind the occupied bar chair beside her. It took one glower from him, and the drunk dude nearly fell out of the seat. Gabe slid into it, completely unrepentant, his full lips curving into a wicked, knowing smile. He was a twin, hot damn. Tall and with a crop of curly brown hair, muscular, and wildly mischievous, he was way more laid back than his silent and moody brother, Damon. He was also one of the few trusted to be in the circle, along with his brother.

“Hey,” she said, dropping her spoon into the empty carton. She faced him, letting her knee push into his. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” He leaned in, his knee slowly pushing her legs apart until his leather-clad thigh pressed against her bare one. “I expected you’d be here after the night you had.”

She sighed. It figured all the Nephilim would know about her and the cop. It was like there was some kind of secret-squirrel message board she was unaware of. “If I’d known what he was, I wouldn’t have knocked him out.”

“Yes, you would’ve.” He grinned. “I ran into Remy. He said you guys showed him the…nightlife. Heard it wasn’t pretty.”

“He freaked.” She sipped her Coke, loving the way it fizzed on her tongue. “But what can you expect? The guy had no clue what he was. He’s going to be prime pickings.”

“Can’t believe Nate’s going to try to train him.” His large hand dropped to her knee, and his thumb slipped where the skin creased, smoothing back and forth idly. “It’s going to be a waste of time.”

“A waste of my time,” she corrected. “I have to train him.”

She got the momentary satisfaction of seeing his normally bored expression fade to surprise. “You’re shitting me,” he said.

“Afraid not.”

“You’re so going to break him.” He laughed.

“Or kill him accidentally, but we’ll see.” She placed her hand over his, sliding his hand up her thigh. Taking one last sip of her Coke, she stood, threading her fingers through his calloused ones.

Gabe bent his head to her ear, voice low and already thick. “Going fast tonight?”

Her insides tightened, and liquid heat replaced some of the agitation. She leaned into him, pressing her body against his. “You have a problem with that?”

“It’s the last thing in this world I’d have a problem with, love.”

“Good.” Turning, she led him around the bar. Sammy rolled his eyes and went back to cleaning glasses.

They didn’t talk as Lily led him toward the back of the bar and through the door clearly marked Employees Only. But when she stopped to let her eyes adjust to the darkness of the narrow corridor, she felt him against her back, rigid and thick. Nope. Gabe sure didn’t mind going fast.

Finding the laundry room took very little time. Getting down to business once the door shut behind them was even quicker. A second after she pulled on the metal string dangling in the middle of the room, throwing the room into complete darkness, his arms came around her waist, lifting her up onto the tips of her boots.

His hands then traveled northward, cresting over her breasts, finding the nipples covered by cloth and satin. She arched against his hands, biting back a moan as his thumbs slid under her tank top and teased the satin-covered peaks. She never made a sound. Never.

Gabe growled low in his throat, grinding his pelvis against her. The rush of heat flooding her core had her rocking back against him. One hand left her breast, slipping down the curve of her stomach and flare of her hip. His hand slid under her skirt, skimming over her thighs. When his fingers brushed her already damp panties, he growled again.

Just like Julian had predicted on the rooftop, the fragile barrier of clothing remained. Gabe palmed her covered sex, rubbing his thumb over her clit until she squirmed against his hand.

Desperation rose in her so sharply she almost cried out. The desire—the need to lose herself in nothing but sensation, even for just a few moments—took over.

Then, without any warning, the image of Julian flashed behind her closed lids. What the hell? She didn’t want him in her head while she was doing this. She focused on Gabe’s handsome face, and when that failed, she pictured other men. But once her mind provided the image of Julian, the forbidden fantasy took root.

It was him moving behind her, holding her in his strong arms, his fingers teasing her mercilessly. Heart racing, she gripped Gabe’s arms as the intense pressure began to build in her core.

Gabe pulled back, turning her and grasping her hips. He lifted her onto the edge of the washer, parting her thighs with his hands and legs. They were positioned like two lovers would be, fully ready to take part in each other’s flesh. But there were rules, boundaries between them that would never be crossed. No kissing. No penetration of any kind. Gabe never pushed it, never talked about it. And he never complained when it was done. Or talked about what they did. She knew he believed Luke would chop off his balls if he even suspected him of messing with her. So their private shenanigans worked for them.

After all this time—and damn Julian for somehow figuring it out—she was still a virgin. Barely. As messed up as it sounded, it was the only thing that was truly hers. The only thing she could give someone that didn’t belong to the Sanctuary and wasn’t controlled by her Contract.

She kept her eyes closed, her treacherous mind holding the image of Julian in front of her. No matter how many times she pushed him from her thoughts, he came right back with a vengeance. Damn him.

But oh—oh, my—the fantasy was driving her to new heights. Her skin was on fire as she reached down, unzipped his fly, and pulled him out. His free hand slammed into the washer, denting it as she wrapped her hand around his cock.

Sammy was going to be pissed.

“Damn,” Gabe groaned, thrusting into her palm as she worked him ruthlessly. “Really bad night, huh?”

“You have no idea.” She buried her head in his neck as she scooted closer, bringing their bodies so close he had to shift to keep his hand between her legs.

She wrapped a leg around his hips as the tension built deep inside her. The tip of his cock nestled just below his hand. Their bodies rocked together, but still apart. His cock was swelling in her hand, and she knew he probably wanted to bury himself deep inside her—but he wouldn’t. And then the tension was spiraling, breaking apart and shattering. She threw her head back, biting down on her lips until she tasted blood. Bliss washed over her. In those moments, as lightning zinged through her veins, she was free of the chains she wore. Her brain clicked off. It was just her body and the delicious feeling of her inner muscles spasming.

Gabe’s hoarse shout came, and he jerked back a little, spilling warm liquid over her thigh. His cock jumped in her hand as his body spasmed. They stayed like that for a few moments, breathing heavily and riding out the weak aftershocks. Then he groped blindly for the pile of clean white towels, cleaned her up, and then himself.

When he was done, he pressed his lips to the spot just below her ear. “Have more bad nights, love.”

All of her clever responses dried up and vanished. He was gone before she opened her eyes. Normally that wouldn’t have bothered her. They were two consenting adults, and they hadn’t even had sex. But as she sat on the edge of the washer and the pounding in her heart slowed, she felt a yearning for…something more than this.

This was what she was outside of the Sanctuary, driven to impersonal hookups in a dark—she sniffed daintily—funny-smelling laundry room with coworkers. Sure, there was fondness between them, but this wasn’t about love or even lust.

It was just two people working off stress and getting off.

Loneliness, the kind she’d never been familiar with, settled in her chest. This is my life, she realized dumbly. This was what she sacrificed for a higher calling. Hell, maybe she should’ve read the fine print in her Contract.

Chapter Seven

Nathaniel glanced up from the enormous Book of Names. It was far too early for him to be up, and even more so for Luke. But it seemed like Luke was sleeping as little as he was. He slipped his hand over the Book, closing it.

The Book of Names was exactly what it sounded like. It contained all the names of those fostered by the Fallen from creation to today. When a Nephilim was created, the name and location would appear. A mark would emerge by their name once their mother passed. It was then when they went for the child. Never would he take a youngling from the arms of their mother. Not even Nathaniel knew how the Book worked or who was behind the knowledge. He was simply the reader, and only a trusted few were sent to retrieve the children. He hoped one day he could entrust Luke with such a duty.

“Where’s Lily?” Nathaniel asked.

Luke pushed away from the door. “At her place.”

Nathaniel’s eyes closed briefly. The girl would be the death of him. From the moment he’d brought the screaming child home, she had hooked herself around his heart.