Chapter Four

 

CAM

 

Elithea had been easy to find, having been given an approximate location. She let off an energy that Cam was automatically drawn to, and when he found her, she was in some dingy bar, pushing a broom across the floor. Cam crouched to watch her from where he was perched—not wanting her to see him just yet.

She was incredibly beautiful. Her wavy, chestnut hair framed a perfect heart-shaped face. Her eyes were a deep, rich sapphire blue and her lips—those full lips—were a gorgeous shade of pale pink. Her pale and creamy skin looked good enough to lick and, although most of her body was hidden in jeans and a fitted top, he could see she had gentle curves in the places he would most want to touch. He tried to push away the distracting thoughts but couldn’t help the powerful arousal building up within him just observing her and the way her body moved.

Cam gritted his teeth. No. This was not why he was here. He forced himself to think back to his raging argument with Zak.

“A girl? Are you joking?”

Zak had remained calm the entire time. “A Nephilim. She has been brought to our attention, and we need you to train her and keep her safe.”

“Send an Archangel.”

“She needs someone who is trained in combat and well experienced. The Dominion League wants an experienced Power on this assignment.”

Cam rose to his full height, anger coursing through him. “Send me to kill Furies. Send me to capture Legion. I will hunt and kill until every demon has disappeared from the human world. But I will not train Nephilim.”

Zak had held his eye, and even blinked lazily. “That is the job right now.” Damn him for being so level headed.

Cam clenched his fists. Training a Nephilim was so far beneath his capabilities. What was the Dominion League thinking? He was made by the Creator to fight and protect the realm, not to babysit.

He had released a growl that caused some of the Powers watching the Stream to glance at him in annoyance.

“Commander, this is not a wise use of resources. I’ve hardly any experience with humans and would probably frighten her. I don’t know the first thing about training a Nephilim and I don’t want to know. This isn’t a suitable assignment for any Power, let alone me!” His reasoning ended in a roar, and some of the Powers turned towards him, muttering in his direction.

He served them with a glare that shut them up.

“Just teach her how to fight,” Zak said. “Teach her what you know. Make sure she’s safe—that’s all you have to do. It’s easy, Cam.”

“How old is she?”

“Just turned twenty-two.”

“Why hasn’t she been trained already?”

At that, Zak’s thick eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know. The Dominion League hasn’t told me everything. All I know is, she’s untrained and therefore in immediate danger. I’m surprised she’s lasted this long.”

Cam had wanted to curse, wanted to rage at his commander. He paced backward and forward in agitation but didn’t dare refuse. Despite his want, his need, to fight, there was no way that he could say no when given a direct order.

“It’s either that, or you start the search for a mate,” Zak had said.

Cam froze, grinding his jaw. “When do I start?”

After providing information on the Nephilim, Zak departed, leaving Cam sitting on the bench struggling with his fury. He resolved to train the girl quickly, to get it over with so he could get back to his real assignments. Zak had said she had lasted twenty-two years with no training; perhaps she was smart to have avoided demons for so long.

Now, at the bar studying her, his anger began to dissolve. He found it almost soothing staring at her. He had trailed her from the moment she left her apartment and couldn’t drink in enough of her energy, her subtle scent or the enticing view of her.

He began to fantasize about what it would be like to kiss her, to pull her against his chest and ravish her mouth with his. The images in his mind were almost uncontrollable, and he was lost in them until a sharp knock hit the door of the bar.

He watched as she moved toward the door and swung it open to reveal three full-sized Spectras. Elithea escaped out a window and jumped down onto the concrete below.

Cam stretched his wings, and with one flap, propelled himself upward and followed her. She ran through the streets, weaving through the unsuspecting humans around her. The Spectras gave chase and were right on her heels when she made an unfortunate turn into a dead-end alley.

Cam dove downward, shooting into the alley as they began attacking her. He gripped the shoulders of one of the Spectras and tugged the demon off her, throwing it hard against the brick wall of the buildings that surrounded the alley. A crack shook the air before it fell to the ground, but it wasn’t dead. Cam pulled the other demons off Elithea, who was fighting like a wildcat beneath the large bodies. She was covered in blood, her face a mask of confusion.

Cam positioned himself between her and the Spectras. All three of the demons closed in on the two of them. He would make easy work of them—they were nothing but toys to him, but to Elithea, they were still incredibly dangerous.

He reached down into his boot and pulled out a long, thick dagger made out of holy steel. He lunged and pierced one of the Spectras through the throat with the blade, yanking it upward so hard that it split through the demon’s jaw and up through its skull, completely halving its monstrous head. The copper odor of blood filled Cam’s nostrils, turning his fervor into a red fury.

By then, the other two Spectras had backed off, realizing that they were way out of their depth. Cam wasn’t prepared to excuse them. He grabbed hold of one before it could run away and held it still, using the holy blade to rip through its throat. He dropped him on the ground before turning to face the third. The last Spectra just stood there, frozen, and so it was easy for Cam to dispose of him. The blade cut clean through the demon’s neck and its head rolled from its body, stopping just short of where Elithea lay bleeding on the ground.

Cam kicked the head away and knelt over her. She blinked at him—wide-eyed and detached. He cleansed his body with angelic energy to remove any demon blood that remained on him then lifted the woman into his arms. A spark of excitement flashed through his body when he pulled her close to him.

He flew up into the air, making his way to her apartment, holding her light body tight against his chest. He tried to ignore how soft she felt and how good she smelled, even covered in blood.

When they got to her studio apartment, he shifted out of his angel-form and set her down on her worn bed. She seemed dazed, but that was expected. The place was small and cozy but was in desperate need of repair. The peeling walls were half painted, the bed and wardrobe were broken and moisture spots spread along the ceiling.

He made for her closet, assuming she’d rest—nothing could be done until she was healed, but she sat up. Her sapphire eyes burned bright with anger.

“Who are you?” she spat. “What the fuck are you doing? What were those… things?”

Cam turned to her, surprised at the fire in her. It was well-known that Nephilim were automatically submissive and respectful around pure angels, especially the first time they met one. This one was assertive. And rude. “Now is not the time for questions.”

“Now is the perfect time for questions.” Her voice caused a pleasurable twinge in his groin.

He ignored her, scrutinizing her injuries. She was bleeding from several gashes on her arms and legs and her top was in tatters over her shoulders where the fabric had been slashed by the demons’ talons. She should be unconsciousness from the severity of her wounds, yet she was demanding answers.

The fierceness in her face affected Cam in ways that it shouldn’t have. His body responded to her mere gaze and he couldn’t stop staring at her, messy though she was. He was overcome by an urge to bathe her himself, to take her into her bathroom and peel the sticky clothes from her body and wash her wounds before healing her.

“I need to heal you,” he said. He should really teach her to heal herself but they didn’t have time; they needed to leave as soon as possible to avoid any further attacks. Although she was strong, she wasn’t ready for another fight—he could only go so far to protect her in her fragile state.

“Heal me?” She hesitated and glanced down at the wounds on her arms. “How?”

“I don’t have time to explain the fine details.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“I will show you how to heal yourself in due time,” he said, roughly. “Right now, I can either heal you or wait until you’ve lost enough blood to fall unconscious. Which is it?”

Her eyes flitted over him and then she nodded slowly, though suspicion remained in her expression. He sat down beside her on the bed, his whole body tensing at her proximity. She didn’t shy away from him, but stared into his eyes with a quizzical expression, her sweet lips parted. He leaned around her, looked at her back and almost winced—the gashes were deep, raw and long, crossing her shoulder blades and ending near the curve of her lower back. They were smeared with blood and grime.

“Get me a wet cloth and take off your top.”

She shot him a look. “You want me to get naked? Are you fucking joking?”

“I can heal you through your clothes but it will be more painful,” he said, sternly. Didn’t she understand he was trying to help her?

Her mouth tightened but after scrutinizing him for a long moment, she did what he told her, disappearing into the bathroom and reemerging with a warm, wet cloth. She handed it to him and sat on the bed, turning away from him and lifting her top over her head. She moved slowly, wincing in obvious pain. He settled behind her, gently wiping the blood and dirt from the lacerations.

Her body tensed when he touched her, and he found himself wanting to comfort her. Before he knew what he was doing, he leaned forward and brushed his lips over the back of her neck, barely touching the skin. He wanted to kiss it but stopped himself, alarmed at his own behavior. The gesture made her freeze and sent a shiver down her spine. She squirmed in front of him, her breath hitching in her chest. Cam didn’t apologize; he didn’t say anything at all. He continued wiping the blood from her skin in gentle strokes until all that remained were a number of raw gashes.

“Was that it?” she asked, almost breathless. “It still hurts.”

“No, I’ve just cleaned you. I’m going to heal you now.”

She squirmed again and tilted her head forward, tugging her long hair further over her shoulder so that her whole back was bare to him. He focused his attention on his fingertips, filling them with the energy that would soothe her skin and allow it to stitch itself together, not even leaving a scar. He began to brush his fingers along the skin next to the wounds, careful not to apply too much pressure where it wasn’t needed.

The softness of her skin roused his imagination of her other soft places; her breasts, her thighs, her… He pushed the thoughts away and continued stroking her back, watching the skin knit together. Finally, he made it to the small of her back. When he touched her there, she let out a soft sigh that made his cock jump in his pants. It was ridiculous to be so affected by her yet there was no doubt he desired her.

Thea sank backward, relaxing now that her wounds were healed. Her bare back leaned against his chest so that his face was buried in the crown of her head, among her sweet-smelling hair. Cam tensed. He couldn’t be so close to her, not if he wanted to keep his self-control. He cleared his throat and pulled away reluctantly.

“Turn around and give me your arm.”

Turning, she used one arm to cover her breasts; she held the other out for his inspection. Deep puncture wounds decorated her forearm. Cam washed them and used the energy to close them up, tracing her skin with his fingertips. He could sense her eyes on him, though he couldn’t guess what she may be thinking. He did the other arm and then held his breath when it was time to do her legs. Where her jeans had been torn, he could see wounds. She had one spot in particular on her thigh, just on the inside of her knee. It wasn’t that deep and was no longer bleeding, but it would need to be healed nonetheless. He lowered to the floor and began to heal the lower injuries.

“You can teach me how to do this?” she asked, jolting him from his thoughts.

“Yes. First, you need to pack. Quickly. We need to leave here.”

She snorted and shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Cam snapped a look at her and rose from the floor. Did she think he was giving her a choice? “You will come with me. You’re in danger here.”

“I know,” she shot back. “But I don’t know whom I’m in danger from. It could be you. Those things… I can’t trust my own eyes right now. I’m sure as hell not trusting you.”

“You can and you will,” Cam said, his voice embracing a threatening tone. “I will explain everything once we leave.”

“No.” Thea folded her arm back over her chest. “I want answers. Now.”