Chapter Thirteen

Maccus stared up at the ceiling, drained both physically and mentally. He’d lost count of how many times he’d fucked Morrigan. Each time he’d told himself to go more slowly, to be gentle. Each time he’d failed.

No one could call him a considerate lover at the best of times. He made sure his partner came, but he’d never driven a woman as long and hard as he had Morrigan. And she’d proved more than his equal, meeting him stroke for stroke, gripping his shoulders, digging her fingernails into his skin.

No matter what he’d done, what he’d asked of her, she’d welcomed him. He’d never had a more perfect lover.

How was he supposed to give her up?

They weren’t only compatible in bed but outside it as well.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Her voice was groggy. Her head rested on his shoulder and one leg was bent and thrown over his thighs, so she was partially covering him. It seemed natural and right to hold her like this.

Again it marked her difference. All past sexual encounters had taken place outside his home. She was the only woman he’d ever had in his bed. Usually, it was him getting up to leave while his sex partner slumbered in their own home or at some hotel.

When she pushed upright, the covers slithered down, leaving her upper body bare. His cock stirred.

She blinked several times, reminding him of a curious owl. Her hair was damp and stood up in short tufts in places. A lock was stuck right in the center of her forehead, so he brushed it aside. Her skin was dewy, her lips swollen.

The damn woman was making him downright poetic. He was much better at killing things, preferred it. It was easier.

“Now you’re thinking too loudly,” she complained.

He almost smiled, and he never smiled. “Sorry.” Not really. He’d been watching her sleep. Wouldn’t have woken her, but he was glad she was awake.

The corners of her lips tilted up in a smile. His chest expanded as he took a breath.

“No, you’re not.” She shoved her fingers through her hair, yawned, and rolled onto her back. He followed, turning onto his side and propping his head up on one hand so he could stare down at her.

“No, I’m not,” he agreed.

She laughed and shook her head. “An honest man. I didn’t think there was such a thing.”

“I’ll never lie to you,” he promised. It might hurt them both, but he’d always tell her the truth.

“I know.” Her chin dipped, and her eyes slid away from him. “Sometimes I wish you would, but I’m glad you don’t.”

He didn’t like seeing her this way—defeated and uncertain. Not the confident hunter and woman who tempted him at every turn. “Tell me about yourself.” The request was twofold. It would distract her from her worrisome thoughts and also allow him to learn more about her.

“What do you want to know?”

“Something. Anything.” He’d treasure any little memory, no matter how mundane. Digging through his memories, he replayed everything she’d already told him. “You mentioned college.”

She sighed and tugged on the sheets. It was almost a crime to hide her breasts, but he didn’t pull the covering away, otherwise, they’d end up fucking rather than talking.

“Yeah, I’d been working as a waitress and janitor, but I told you that. I’m not sure what I would have done. I was saving for school. I’d planned to maybe become a teacher. I love books, but a degree in English is pretty useless these days unless you plan to become a teacher.” She paused. “Or a writer.” She picked at a thread on the sheet.

He jumped on that tidbit. “Did you write?”

She waved her hand as if to wipe out his words. “I wasn’t very good.”

“Who told you that?”

“It doesn’t matter. I didn’t have time to write much.”

“Who?” he demanded.

“I showed a story to Kayley once.”

Morrigan’s sister was a lying bitch. Tension radiated from her, as though she was waiting for him to comment. It just about killed him, but he kept his silence.

“What about teachers?” He knew very little about the modern school system, other than it incarcerated children for years in institutions of so-called higher learning. As far as he could tell, their purpose was mostly to kill any original thinking so that they’d fall in line with the current system, put their heads down, and work until they died without question.

Not that he was in any position to look down on them. He’d done much the same thing in Heaven, following orders, believing in the greater good, until the person he’d trusted and believed in had turned on him.

She gave a quick shrug and smoothed down the sheet. “A couple of teachers said I had potential.”

There was a hint of hope, of pride buried beneath the uncertainty.

He grazed his fingers up and down her arm, enthralled by the way goose bumps rose on her skin and the slight tremble of her body.

Can’t fuck her again. Need to give her time.

Now it was he who needed the distraction. “What else?”

“Why do you care?”

He had no idea. This was a first for him. It was his turn to shrug.

The silence grew. Figuring she’d finished sharing, he was just about the roll out of bed when she spoke again. “I miss simple things, like a walk in the park on a summer’s day enjoying an ice cream, and the innocence of not knowing that demons walk among us. What about you?” She traced a finger over the haladie inked on his arm. The weapon rose slightly from his flesh to let her stroke it. “Tell me something about you? It doesn’t have to be anything big. Just something.”

Information was power, and he guarded it closely. Not much was known about his life or abilities, and he liked it that way. But if he expected her to share, he had to give her something.

“I had a dog.”

“Really?” Pushing herself up, she sat tailor-style beside him.

He was as shocked as she seemed. He’d never told anyone about his companion.

The curse of living so long was that memories often became murky or simply lost to the mists of time. But some remained vivid, no matter how much time had passed. “It was back in the eighteen hundreds, maybe the seventeen.” He’d stopped keeping track for a while.

“What kind of dog was it?”

“Demon wasn’t a pet. He was a companion. A wolfhound.” Massive in stature with thick fur as black as midnight, the animal had been feared by all who saw him. In that, they’d been alike. They’d been kindred spirits, sharing their lives for a time.

“I can picture that.” She rested her hand on his knee. “What was Demon like? And great name, by the way.”

“Intelligent. Dependable. Loyal.” All the things he’d hadn’t gotten from his friend. The dog had given him something to focus on besides his worries. “He died.” Leaving Maccus alone once again and grieving.

He’d never had another.

“I’m sorry, but at least you had Demon in your life and have the memories.”

“Is that better?” Pain was something he lived with daily. There was no need for him to actively court it. But wasn’t that exactly what he was doing with Morrigan?

“Yes.” Her voice was firm and filled with conviction as she placed her hand over his heart. “If we don’t have them, we have nothing to hang on to during tough times.”

“Give me one of yours.” What did she consider a good memory?

“This moment, right here, right now, with you.” A light red stained her cheeks, and she glanced away.

Taken aback, he inhaled sharply, his chest expanding. She considered him a good memory. He’d never been anyone’s good anything before.

Lie or truth?

The intensity was too much, so he rolled out of bed and dragged on his pants before hunting up a clean shirt. “I’m going to make something to eat.”

“Sure. Sounds good.”

Fuck, he was doing it again, retreating like some coward. He went back to where she was still sitting and caught her chin in his hand. “I never had anything good before.” Not like this.

She nodded her acceptance, not asking for anything in return. Her bravery astounded him, even as he swallowed his ire to keep from yelling at her to have some sense of self-preservation.

“Until now.” His voice was rough, the words forced past his lips, and he was frowning. Most people would run from him.

She simply met his gaze and gave him a small smile.

Dropping his hand, he walked away. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” He needed some distance, some space to start repairing his defenses. They’d stood impenetrable for years and were now crumbling at the edges.

…

What had just happened?

Sex with Maccus was beyond anything she could imagine, and she had quite a vivid imagination. As though unable to slake his desire for her, he’d taken her again and again, in every position possible, and even in a couple she’d never envisioned. If she were human, she wouldn’t be able to walk for a week without limping. But she was stronger. Her muscles were a bit stiff, but overall, she was energized rather than tired.

She climbed out of bed and raised her arms over her head. Bending forward, she stretched. A hot shower would help loosen her up and soothe any soreness. It didn’t take her long to clean up and get dressed. She had no idea what hour of day or night it was. Being with Maccus overwhelmed all else, but that couldn’t last.

They couldn’t hide in his apartment forever. Lucifer or Gabriel would eventually find a way in or force them out. And every time they stepped outside, they were met with a new challenge.

Yeah, challenge. Talk about an understatement. She gave a short snort of laughter as she yanked on another T-shirt, she borrowed from Maccus. It was way too big, but she knotted the tail at her side.

The life-giving scent of coffee lured her to the kitchen. Eggs and bacon sizzled in large pans on the stove. Pure heaven. It didn’t seem to matter the species; the male go-to was either breakfast or steak on a grill.

“Can I help?”

“There’s coffee,” he told her, keeping his back to her.

Not exactly the warm and loving aftermath she wished for, but she couldn’t complain. Having him share a memory with her was huge. They’d actually talked. That was no small thing.

The silence remained until they were seated at the table and had almost finished their meal. “Tell me something else?” The deep rumble of his voice startled her.

She set her fork down and picked up her mug and took a fortifying sip. “I like music.” When he simply stared at her and frowned, she managed to swallow a smile. He managed to get across his point without saying a word.

“I like music of all kinds. Not a particular genre. Depends on my mood. Classic rock is, well, classic. I enjoy Motown, metal, even some disco. Not so much rap or hip hop.”

“Classical?”

She put her mug down and spun it around. “Never really listened to it. You?” she asked, not expecting him to answer.

He sat back in his chair with a faraway gaze, as though he was somewhere in the past rather than with her. “Mozart was remarkable.”

“The Mozart?” These kinds of tidbits brought into sharp focus just how old he was.

“Yes.”

“Did you see all the great composers?” Her education had been sorely lacking in this area.

“I traveled more in those days.”

Which was a yes. “You’ve seen so much.” So much beauty and wonder.

He shoved back from the table and grabbed his dishes. “Yes.”

His mood had turned on a dime, but she understood. Yes, he’d seen some amazing things, but he’d also endured living nightmares. Did one make up for the other? Did the scales even out? She doubted it.

“So, what do we do now?” As much as she loved this quiet interlude, it was time to make a plan. Hopefully, one that didn’t include her death.

It seemed odd to watch a deadly assassin put his dirty dishes in the dishwasher. But a cleaning service? That wasn’t happening. That level of trust simply wasn’t in him.

Used to his silences, she helped him finish clearing away. He wasn’t intentionally ignoring her as much as he was thinking, plotting his next move.

“I need to check my email.”

The normalcy of such mundane tasks made her heart swell and her lips twitch. Their situation was so far outside the norm. Heck, they weren’t even in the same universe. “You expecting word from Asher or any of the others?” She had no idea who he’d contacted or how many members there were in the Forgotten Brotherhood.

“Maybe. I have other business interests.”

Of course he did. He’d been alive forever, and living on the earth for— Well, she had no idea how long, but centuries at least. Maybe millennia.

She, on the other hand, had nothing to check. There were no numbers in her phone, except for Emmett, and she only contacted him when she had a bounty to be picked up. Otherwise, she was alone in the world, with not even a number for a local pizza joint on speed dial. Where she moved around so much, it didn’t make sense to bother.

“You all right?” He plucked the dishcloth from her clenched hand, folded it precisely, and hung it over the faucet.

“Fine.” What else could she say? That he was the closest friend she’d had her entire life. That was beyond sad and skyrocketing into pathetic.

Her throat closed and her chest got tight, as though it was being squeezed by an emotion too big to express. She was so tired of it all—the fighting, the mistrust, the just getting through each day to wake up and do the same thing over and over.

What was the point?

“Morrigan?” He ran his fingers along the curve of her jaw, and she shook off her melancholy.

“What’s the plan?” There was no time for wallowing in self-pity. She needed to get back to the task at hand.

He turned and walked away. Yup, things were back to normal again. And just like before, she followed him into his office. He took his seat at his desk and opened his laptop.

Ignoring all the treasures surrounding her, she went to stand beside him, not even trying to hide the fact she was looking over his shoulder.

There were several dozen emails in his inbox, and he went through them at lightning speed. The sheer number and variety were a surprise. “Real estate?” It made sense since he was older than dirt.

“Land always has value.” Fingers flying over the keyboard, he made an offer on a property with so many zeros on the end of the number that she got a little queasy. There was an email about shares for a pharmaceutical company. Another from the board of directors for an investor group.

And what had she done with her life? She’d waitressed and scrubbed floors. Oh, and she’d hunted demons while living in crap motels. Maybe she had a couple hundred bucks in the bank and less in her wallet. If and when she needed more, Emmett would deposit it. Not like she actually pulled in a paycheck for her job.

Feelings of inadequacy filled her. She started to walk away, but Maccus’s hand snapped out and caught hers before she got more than a step from him. His gaze remained on the screen. He was on the Forgotten Brotherhood website now.

“Anything?” So she wasn’t rich. So what? She was alive. That was something.

“Asher sent our friends on their way last night.”

“Did he hurt them?” As much as they’d deserved it, she still abhorred unnecessary violence.

“He helped himself to a snack, altered some memories.”

“A snack? Right, he’s a vampire.” The thought of sucking blood from one of those guys made her stomach roil. She rubbed the back of her neck and took long, slow breaths. Yeah, she didn’t find the whole vampire thing the least bit sexy, no matter how many books or movies tried to make it seem desirable.

No, she seemed to have a weakness for one particular surly fallen angel. Just her luck.

“Nothing else of interest.” He swiveled in his chair, caught her around the waist, and dragged her onto his lap so she was facing him.

She tilted her head to one side, hearing what he didn’t say. “Anything not particularly of interest?” He had contacts with other members of the group. There were things going on in the world that had nothing to do with her situation, although she couldn’t imagine anything more important than one that had the devil and an angel involved.

He shook his head. “We stay out of one another’s business and try not to have too much contact.”

“Not even with Asher?” He’d seemed to be, if not a friend, at least friendly.

“I’ve known him the longest.”

“How did you meet?” The curiosity was killing her. They weren’t exactly running with the same crowd.

Or maybe they did. Where vampires come from and who governed them was a mystery? It was likely “need to know” information. And she certainly didn’t need to. She had enough troubles of her own without adding to them.

“We’d both been hired for the same job. We both took exception.”

“Wow.” Talk about a battle for the ages. But he hadn’t killed the vampire. And he could have. Sure, Asher was dangerous, but Maccus was at a level all his own.

He gave a negligent shrug. “We came to an understanding, founded the Brotherhood, and then went our own way. There will always be friction when two powerful creatures are in close proximity.”

That made sense. None of the members of the Brotherhood would have an easy time with trust. “Doesn’t it get lonely? I mean, you guys live forever, right?”

“In theory. But in my experience, anyone or anything can be killed.”

A shiver raced down her spine at his ominous words. Anything could be killed. Even demon bounty hunters. He’d probably killed a dozen of her kind. Or maybe not. She doubted he’d bother—not enough challenge.

“What are we doing?” His lips twitched. Why wouldn’t they? She was currently sitting on his lap with his erection pressing against her. “Besides this.” She rubbed her mound against his shaft. Even through their clothing, the heat and friction sent her thoughts down a sensual path. She was getting way too close to him, and she’d barely scratched the surface of who he was.

He wrapped his hands around her hips before sliding them back to cup her ass. “We’re going to try to defeat Lucifer and Gabriel at their own game.”

She wished she had his confidence. “Not possible. Someone has to die.” His entire body turned to stone. “And it’s likely to be me.” Wasn’t much point in lying to herself.

“Why you?” he asked.

“Why did Lucifer order me to kill you?” Because there was no good reason. “Maybe because of the chemistry we have.” They had that in spades. Even now, talking about her impending death, her body responded to his touch. Maybe even more so with the awareness that time was running out.

She turned it back on him. “Why you?”

He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Lucifer has never liked me.”

Understatement the millennia. Maybe of all time. “I’ve caught a few rumors about the Hunter. You’re definitely not one of Lucifer’s favorite people.” She paused, almost afraid to ask. “Is it true you could have taken Hell?” That’s what had been whispered, along with the fact he’d been asked to leave.

“I don’t want it.” Not an answer. Not really. “I like being left alone.”

“And they’re not going to let that happen. Why now? What’s changed? You’ve been on Earth for a long time.” It didn’t make sense.

He shrugged again, seeming unconcerned. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him, or at least tried to. It was like trying to move a mountain—a very solid, stubborn one.

“What are you doing?” He wasn’t upset, just mildly interested.

“Trying to shake some sense into you, but not having any success. You have some powerful entities gunning for you.”

“That’s not new.”

She supposed it wasn’t, but that didn’t make it right or easier. “Think about it. The timing has to be a factor, especially since both Heaven and Hell are involved. How can you be a threat to both?”

Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes. Tattoos poked out from beneath the sleeves of his shirt and peeked out just above the collar. Maccus was a force of nature, strong and indomitable. But in this space of time, he seemed tired.

She leaned forward and rested her head against his chest. The loud thud of his heart comforted her. For a while they sat there, her pressed against him with his arms wrapped around her. It was peaceful. The only sound was that of their breath. It synced, and they were soon breathing as one. A sense of contentment filled her. If these were her last hours in the world, then they were good ones.

“I’m close to the edge,” he told her.

She pushed back so she could see him. His eyes were open and filled, once again, with the relentless determination she’d come to associate with him. “The edge of what?”