“I was ready to burn to keep my mate with me.” Sam’s eyes flashed with the painful memory. “When I lost her, I lost my control.”
It was too dangerous for a Fallen like Sam to lose control.
“A witch once told me that you’d destroy the world,” Sam continued. “When she said that, I had to wonder . . . what could possibly push you so hard that you’d turn on everyone around you?”
Jade’s hand was soft and delicate in his grip.
“Be careful,” Sam warned him again. “Make sure you don’t ever have to face the same darkness that I did.”
Az nodded. Sam had been ready to destroy, to kill—but Seline had come back to him before he’d crossed the point of no return.
What would have happened if she hadn’t been there?
Az and Jade hurried up the old staircase. And as her body brushed his, an insidious whisper had him tensing. A whisper that came from within.
What would I do without her?
Bastion stood in the shadows, watching the mortals as they hurried down the New Orleans Street. No one saw him. They couldn’t—no one there was due to meet death.
His gaze locked on the building across the road. Sunrise. He knew Sammael’s bar well. The Fallen catered to humans and the Other there, flaunting their sins for all to see.
But Sammael had been sinning for centuries, ever since Az had banished him from heaven. One brother, turning on another.
An old prophecy.
But Az had been right to banish his brother. Sammael had broken the rules. He’d taken souls not his to claim. Az had been given no choice in his brother’s punishment.
He had a choice now. He had a choice—and he’d chosen to attack other angels.
Where was Marna?
To sever her wings . . . Az had known what lost wings would cost Marna. Wings didn’t just grow back. Angels could regenerate from most wounds, but not that. Never the wings.
She wouldn’t be going home again.
Horns honked. Voices lifted and fell in a soft cadence. The scent of the river drifted in the air. He ignored all of that, too conscious of the sin Az had committed.
Az had taken away the one thing that Bastion cared for in this world.
His head tilted back as he saw the shadow of forms moving on the upper floor of Sunrise. Two people. A man. A woman. Right behind the curtains.
Az had taken something from him, and now he’d take everything from the Fallen.
Everything.
The water from the shower pounded down on Az’s flesh. Jade stared at him through the thin pane of glass. She wasn’t going to let the guy’s sexiness distract her.
Az turned. Met her stare. Crooked his finger.
Sexy bastard.
Don’t distract. Don’t . . .
But a girl needed to get clean, right?
She yanked her shirt over her head. Tossed her bra. Kicked away her shoes, and had herself naked in about thirty seconds. Not as fast as Az’s instant-clothes-disappearing technique, but still pretty darn good.
But she didn’t just hop in the shower. She could do this right. Make him want as much as she did. Jade straightened her shoulders. Tossed back her hair, and let her gaze dip slowly down his body.
The water ran over those lick-me abs of his. Such sculpted flesh. His wounds were already healed. He was once more all fine-tuned muscle and golden skin. Of course, he was more than human.
Her gaze dropped a little lower. No missing that aroused flesh. Hungry, hard. For her.
As she stared at his erection, his cock swelled even more, and she licked her lips.
He put his hand on the pane of glass.
She lifted her hand and let it rest on the glass, placing it right over his. The glass was cool to the touch. Her hand seemed so much smaller than his. Weaker.
I won’t be weak again.
His gaze held hers through the glass. Steam began to rise, slowly blurring his image.
He slid open the shower door. She stepped inside, being very careful not to touch him. Not yet. Her body slipped past his, barely an inch of space. She could feel him all around her.
But Az did that. He made her feel him, every moment. He had, from the beginning. She let the water hit her. Let it wash over her and slide down her flesh.
Az didn’t touch her.
She still didn’t touch him.
Jade turned beneath the shower and found his eyes on her. Hot. Hungry.
The water pounded down.
She smiled at him and crooked her finger.
In the next second, he had her against the tiled wall of the shower. His mouth was on hers. Open. Their lips met. His tongue swept into her mouth.
His hands held her hips against the wall and positioned her perfectly. Jade arched against him even as her hand slid between their bodies. She found his cock. Stroked him. Guided his flesh to the entrance of her body.
No foreplay.
No more seduction.
She just wanted him.
When he thrust into her, she wanted to freeze that moment. His strength around her. His mouth on hers. His body in hers. Az.
But you couldn’t stop time. Couldn’t hold it close no matter how much you might want to.
He pulled back. Drove deep even as he cushioned her back with his hands. His mouth became harder, more desperate. She couldn’t even feel the water on her anymore.
Only him.
Her legs slid over his. Her hands held tight to his shoulders. The pleasure built inside of her, but she fought the climax.
Not too soon. Not yet.
Deeper. Deeper. He filled every inch of her eager sex.
Az’s mouth lifted from hers. His eyes stared at her, nearly blind with pleasure. “Only . . . you.” His growl. He thrust again. “Only . . . you . . . Jade. Only . . . want . . . you.”
And he was all that she needed. The past didn’t matter to her. What he’d done, what he’d been. In that moment, he was hers.
The pleasure crested, pounding through her on a climax so intense that she cried out as she arched against him.
He held her tighter. Thrust again. Again. When he came, she felt the hot splash of his release inside of her and the wild rush of his heart against her.
And the water poured down into the shower.
He lowered her slowly. Her sex contracted, holding him close as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through her. She knew she should say something to him then, but she was scared.
Az had come to mean too much to her. She’d made a mistake. A very dangerous one.
She’d fallen in love again.
The first time she’d loved, her parents had died for her mistake. Her lover had turned on her, changed from caring to obsessed in one wild one-eighty.
Az was different. She knew that. Az was different because. . .
Because she knew he didn’t love her back. Couldn’t.
She squeezed her eyes shut. He wasn’t speaking either, but he was pulling away from her. It seemed like he always pulled away when the sex was done. Take the pleasure, nothing more.
She turned back into the blast of water.
Nothing more.
So why did it feel like he was everything?
Az used his power and conjured a fresh pair of clothes for them. Jeans and a T-shirt for him—a T-shirt that looked damn good as it stretched tightly across his powerful chest.
The jeans he gave her hugged her hips a little too close for comfort, but when she saw Az’s eyes drop to her ass and flare a bit in appreciation, Jade decided she wouldn’t complain—not about them or about the top that flashed a little too much cleavage.
Besides, she figured no matter what she wore, it was far better than the bloodstained duds she’d been sporting before.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, there was no sign of Sam. It looked like he’d split with his lady love. Hopefully, they’d taken that hellhound with them.
“So . . .” Jade cleared her throat and tried to act cool when her heart w
as actually about to gallop out of her chest. “You think this Mateo will be able to help us?”
“I think Mateo is one dangerous SOB, and when we find him, I don’t want you to leave my side.”
She blinked. Um, okay. “I get the feeling you know him.”
Az opened the back door of the club just a bit so he could gaze out. “I’ve dealt with him before. He owed Sam a blood oath, so he was bound to pay that debt.” He glanced back at her. “Without an oath like that, Mateo doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want. For a job like this, he’ll want us to pay.”
She tensed. “Pay what?”
“Whatever we’ve got.” He brushed the back of his hand over her cheek. “If you thought Heather was dangerous, sweetheart, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
In fact, she’d seen plenty. She might not be some centuries-old angel, but she’d seen more than her fair share of blood and death while walking the earth.
“He’s not just a witch. He’s got powers that are dark, and believe me, they come straight from hell.”
She didn’t flinch or back away. Brandt had taught her to never back down, not even when she was afraid. Especially then.
She’d learned that particular lesson well. “Then let’s find him before he skips town.” Find him, get the brimstone bullets, and take out Brandt.
Simple enough plan. So why was her gut knotting with worry? Why did she feel like danger was just waiting to descend?
Because it was.
Az opened the door fully. Sunlight spilled inside the bar. The motorcycle waited outside. Az could probably just use his magic to zip then wherever they needed to go, but that traveling mode wasn’t exactly her preference. They had the motorcycle, so they could darn well use it—and she could avoid the aftereffects of feeling like she’d vomit after traveling.
So they hurried toward the motorcycle. Az had the engine growling in about two seconds. Three more seconds, and they were racing down the street.
Racing so fast that she almost missed the shadowy figure across the road. The tall, blond man who watched her and Az hurtle away.
The angel who’d come for her before. Bastion.
“Az!” She tried to shout out a warning to him, but the snarl of the motorcycle’s engine just ripped her cry away. Jade glanced back, her hands tightening on Az, but Bastion was gone.
“Is she gonna make it?” Tanner demanded as he stared down at the pale form on the bed.
A fucking angel. Tears had dried on her cheeks long ago. Her lips, trembling, were no longer breaking with cries of pain.
Her wings were gone. Cody was good, but the guy wasn’t a miracle worker. Her wings had been cut off, the skin on her back savaged. Cody had stitched her up, he’d drugged her so the pain would stop, but there wasn’t much else he’d been able to do.
Gone.
Tanner had known for years that his brother was a sadistic bastard, but . . . doing this? To an angel?
She lay on her stomach, with her face turned toward him. Thick, white bandages covered her back. He brushed his hand down her arm. He’d been touching her almost constantly, wanting to comfort the little blonde who’d bled and begged.
This shouldn’t have happened to her. This wasn’t her war.
It’s mine.
“She’ll heal,” Cody’s voice was quiet. “But from all the tales I’ve heard, those wings won’t be growing back.”
An angel’s skin could regenerate. Her torn muscles could mend. She’d recover from her blood loss. But, without her wings, she’d be trapped on earth.
“Az can give her his blood.” They’d be seeing the Fallen in just a few hours. “With his blood, she can—”
“We both know the blood loss isn’t going to kill her.” Cody glanced up with his pitch-black stare. Cody never bothered with glamour when it was just the two of them. Why pretend? Tanner knew exactly what his brother was.
He knew what both of his brothers were.
“His blood won’t make her wings grow back. Only a miracle can do that,” Cody said.
She looked so small. So weak. Not like some all-powerful immortal being right then.
Cody pulled out a pair of handcuffs from a black bag.
Tanner tensed. “What the hell are you doing with those?”
But his brother just reached for her right hand. “When she wakes up and shakes those drugs out of her system, she’s going to be pissed.”
“We saved her life! She’s not gonna be—”
“Our brother cut her wings off. He left her to die.” Cody snapped one cuff around her wrist and stretched her arm to lock the other end around the thin bedpost. “If she’s a Death Angel, all it will take is one touch to knock us both out of this world. You heard what Azrael said—we can’t let her touch us.”
Cody pulled out another set of cuffs.
“Since when do you carry around cuffs?” Tanner had a grip on her left hand, and he didn’t want to let go.
“They’re Other-proof, thanks to a sweet little voodoo queen I met in the bayou.” Cody held the cuffs loosely in his hand. “They’ll keep her hands off us until we can calm her down and help her to see reason.”
“Reason?” Tanner exhaled on a rough sigh and eased back so that Cody could snap the cuffs in place. “Our brother cut off her wings. There’s nothing reasonable in that.”
“No, there isn’t.”
Tanner straightened his shoulders. “You ever wonder . . . I mean, we’ve got the same blood. What if we—”
“Become twisted fucks like him?”
He nodded.
“The day I do, that’s the day I want you to take me out.”
Tanner met Cody’s coal-black stare. He’d always known there was a darkness inside Cody. Demons and darkness went hand in hand.
“Promise me,” Cody said, voice thickening “and I’ll do the same for you.”
Take me out. “I promise.” He knew that if the time ever came, he’d be the one to kill Cody.
Just as he’d be the one to kill Brandt. His gaze fell back to the broken angel.
Sick bastard.
Then, whispering through his mind . . . I never want to be like him.
But the fear was always there, hiding in his head. Don’t want to be, but what if I am?
She expected Az to take her to some small shop in the Quarter. A place that promised magic and dreams with a dozen magic crystals and potions stocked in the windows.
But he drove past the Quarter and left the crowds of the city behind. Her gaze lit on the tossed beads as they headed out. Beads that dangled from lamp posts. Beads that had been shattered in the street.
Only a few more days of Mardi Gras madness were left. By the time the big party ended, what would her life be like?
Jade held tighter to Az as houses began to blur past them. Soon, the houses were gone, and she saw bigger buildings. Old warehouses. They crossed train tracks. Turned to the right. The left.
He braked the motorcycle. She glanced up. Another warehouse. All the windows on the lower floor had been boarded up, but the windows on the second floor shone in the sunlight.
Not exactly where she’d expected to find a witch, but nothing was really what she expected these days.
When she climbed off the bike, Az took her hand. “Remember what I said,” he told her, voice soft. “Stay close. Mateo is very dangerous, very strong, and he doesn’t exactly play by the rules.”
There were rules? Why hadn’t anyone told her about them?
Stopping in front of the double doors, Az raised his fist and pounded. The fierce knock seemed to echo inside. Jade glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting to see Bastion lurking behind her. But she didn’t see anyone.
She looked back at Az. His body was tense, on alert, and she wondered just what—
The door opened with a groan. A tall, muscled guy in a black T-shirt and faded jeans cocked a brow at them. Tribal tattoos circled his shaved head. “I was wondering when you’d be on my doorstep, Fallen,” he said, with
just the faintest hint of a Spanish accent. “You and your . . . querida.” His dark stare locked on her.
Az’s fingers tightened on her arm. Mateo’s gaze dropped, noting the movement. A faint smile curved his lips. “It’s like a sickness, isn’t it?”
“What?” Az frowned at him.
“Emotions. Once you start to feel them, they get inside and tear you apart.” The guy smiled. “They can slice deeper than anything, even a panther shifter’s claws.”
Chill bumps rose on Jade’s arms. “You know about Brandt.”
“There’s very little in this world I don’t know about.” He stepped back and motioned them inside. Once they entered, she expected him to immediately close the doors behind them. Instead, he stepped to the threshold and gazed out with that faint smile still on his lips. After a few moments, he looked back at her. “You’re a wanted woman.”
This guy was creeping her out. “So I hear.”
He bolted the doors and headed for a rickety staircase on the right. “Come.”
Jade glanced at Az. He shrugged and started following Mateo.
“There will be a fee, of course,” Mateo said without glancing back. The staircase squeaked as they headed upstairs. Nothing was on the bottom floor. Well, an old desk. Two chairs. Nothing else.
Mateo opened another door at the top of the stairs. This doorway led to an apartment, or at least what looked like an apartment. The whole place had been redone. Kitchen. Den. The room sported a giant flat-screen TV. Not what she’d expected. It just looked like any other guy’s bachelor pad. Had witches gone mainstream?
But Mateo walked past all that. He headed down a hallway. Opened yet another door.
Ah . . . and this was where the magic happened. She saw the carvings on the wall. The black and red chalk that had been drawn carefully on the floor. A black table sat in the middle of the room, and she could see the gleaming surface of a mirror resting on the top of that table. A mirror, and a knife.
“Been scrying lately?” Az asked, voice flat.
So Heather wasn’t the only one who liked to gaze into the future.
“Sometimes you need to know what’s coming.” Mateo stopped next to the table. His fingers were just inches from the knife. “You got to be prepared for the enemies who’ll be at your door.”