Manhattan, New York, September 2014.
“YOU’VE BEEN AVOIDING ME.”
Aisling started at his voice, but didn’t move away. There was no place to go. He could find her anywhere. “Take a hint.”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Was it too much to ask to have a few minutes to herself before Rori showed up for a latte? Apparently it was since her supernatural stalker tracked her down again. If only she could stab him with his own athame . . .
Slipping gracefully into the booth, the nightmare tossed a satisfied smirk at her annoyance. Eternally striking and beyond arrogant with it, he was cleanly shaven with the faintest of shadows just forming along his jaw. Mirrored aviators hid those magnificent green and gold eyes which were sure as anything locked to hers. Always searching, always probing, he missed nothing. Ever. Mr. Radar Love himself. So, he wanted to know what she was thinking? She focused on sending her most pissed off thoughts straight to his brain. Dick! Demon! Dick Demon! How do you like that? Too bad the worst insult she could come up with was demon. She needed to find a better word. Asshole just didn’t adequately express her loathing.
Trapping her hand, he stroked her palm, smiling tightly, the expression filled with all the warmth of Antarctica. “He was at your house. What did I tell you about that?”
She tried to snatch her hand back, but he simply ground her knuckles together. She tugged. Nothing moved. Two could play this game. Pasting on a fake smile, she dug her nails into the back of his hand, pressing against the corded tendons until the skin popped and blood flowed, or what passed for his blood anyway.
“I haven’t been seeing him. I couldn’t even if I wanted to, thanks to your little shock collar.” She jabbed her thumb at her neck just in case he’d forgotten where he marked her. “He wanted to talk about visitation. We have a son together. I can’t avoid him completely. Surely even you can understand that?”
Leaning across the table, nearly overwhelming the small space, he lowered his voice so it barely vibrated over her skin. “Oh, I do understand. I understand how important Sean Michael is to him.” Without taking his eyes from hers, he flicked the salt shaker with the tip of his finger. It exploded in a snowstorm of crystals. “And to you, little mother.”
Gasping at the impact of glass in her cheek, she swallowed hard and pointedly withdrew her nails from his hand. The crescent-shaped tears knit together instantly though the blood dribbled onto the tablecloth. Clearly satisfied that he had her full attention, he relaxed against the back of the booth and crossed his legs.
“His girlfriend is dead. Consider her a warning.”
“What did you do?”
“Have you forgotten I know everything? You’re with him up here.” He tapped her between the eyes and made a moue of distaste. “Go near him again, and I’ll see to it that your reason disappears.” He plucked a shard of glass from her temple and ground it to dust between his fingers. “Am I clear?”
Sonofabitch. Dropping her voice to a whisper, she hissed, “It’s been almost a century since we were together. It is so over! Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“And miss the joy of torturing you? I don’t think so. Eternity can be so boring. Besides, it’s not all about you, cara. He’s committed offenses too. He tried to banish me once. He’s been interfering with my plans for a millennium. You have a connection to him that I don’t like. I could crush his heart in his chest, but that would be merciful. You should remember that mercy isn’t in my nature.”
Understatement of the century.
Gripping the tablecloth to keep from lunging for his throat, she snarled, “You murdered his girlfriend! Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”
“Aisling? Is everything okay?” Rori chose that exact moment to show up for their coffee date. Her eyes darted back and forth between them before settling on Cain and turning to ice. “I know what you are. Get lost.”
He chuckled without humor and rose to his full height. Stepping too close to Rori, he cocked his head, and murmured into her ear, “And how are you sleeping these nights, Rori?” At her startled blink, he added, “Oh, yes. I’m fully acquainted with your old friend, Azrael. Be mindful of your words, woman. It would be a simple matter to help you disappear from a crowd . . . never to be seen again. Your Primani would be heartbroken.”
Aisling jumped to her feet so quickly she knocked everything from the table with a crash. As all conversations screeched to a halt, she growled, “Leave her alone!”
“Careful, bitch. It’s been amusing to give you some leash. I’ve shown patience, but that’s running as short as mercy. Remember my warning. Keep him away or the boy will pay for the sins of his parents.”
He gave her another cold smile before striding from the coffee shop amid avid stares from everyone inside.
“We have to go!” Too pissed off to stick around, Aisling grabbed Rori’s hand and stormed out the side entrance. Fuck! How dare he threaten Sean Michael! Sean could take care of himself. Her son was a whole different story. This changed everything. She needed help. Just as they were about to turn onto the main street, she cried out and doubled over.
Irku shadowed in the alleyway to watch how Aisling and Rori reacted to his visit. Predictable. Aisling covered her fear with bravado, storming out of the restaurant, purposeful stride taking her to find a solution. Desperate to have control, she rarely let her emotions surface for others to see. Hiding behind a mask of indifference or sharing next to nothing of herself, she lived in a prison inside her head where she had no connection to anyone but her son.
This defense tactic was probably partly his fault. It was not unlikely that she was still upset about how their affair ended. Once she’d been soft and yielding. Now she was uptight and stiff. She would give herself an ulcer if she didn’t let go. With that thought, he crooked his finger. Ulcers were tricky. One never knew when they would begin to bleed. Like now for instance. Turning his finger in a circle, he watched the results.
Aisling clutched at her abdomen as if trying desperately to hold her guts inside. Maybe a little blood’s in order? She moaned and collapsed to her knees. Rori knelt beside her, panic in her voice as she dialed someone on her ridiculous pink cell phone.
“Oh, my God! I’m calling Dec. Hold on, chica!”
Nearly paralyzed with blistering pain, Aisling struggled to lift her head to speak. Thick blackish blood streamed over her chin just before she began vomiting.
Rori screamed into the phone, hysterical with fear. “Dec! Hurry!”
That’s better. Pain. Suffering. Blood. He drifted closer to the women for a better view. Aisling’s eyes were squeezed shut against the agony. Once he’d seen those eyes closed in ecstasy. Pity.
He’d given her pleasure. Now he’d give her pain.
They rematerialized in the foyer of the penthouse. Dec carried her to the couch and set her down like she might shatter. His concern was sweet, but it wasn’t unique to her. He was always sweet. It was his way. Still, it was nice to be fussed over a little.
“I’m okay, Dec. The worst of it’s gone now.” Except for the molten lava eating through her spine. Sure. Everything was fabulous. “I’ll heal in a bit.”
Bustling around the kitchen, he popped back in with a wet towel. “Here. Wipe your face and lie back. I want to check you out.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
Knowing better than to argue, she eased back with a grimace as another stabbing pain crisscrossed her belly. Much more than any other Primani, Dec had an enormous capacity to heal. Humming Kashmir under his breath, he skimmed his palms over her torso to search for injuries. She didn’t have time to comment on his choice of background music before his saol’s gentle heat flowed deeply into her stomach. There was a tingly sensation, and the pain was gone. Leaning over to press a tender kiss to the center of her forehead, he smoothed her hair back and graced her with both dimples.
“Sorry, love. The kiss comes with healing. I can’t seem to help myself.” Laughing at her knowing smirk, he asked, “Is the pain gone?”
Sitting up and wiping the corner of her mouth, she nodded. “Thanks. I don’t know what came over me. I was feeling perfectly fine . . .” Until Cain showed up. What did he do? Why would he attack her now?
You should remember that mercy isn’t in my nature.
Was he truly trying to prove a point? It wouldn’t shock her if he was. The prick was serious about not letting her go. She’d gotten rescued from one isolated prison only to be handcuffed to the goddamned demon who put her there in the first place! Blinking back frustrated tears, she conjured a watery smile just as Sean and Killian strode into the room. Rori was right behind them, though she was out of breath from running the six blocks to the apartment. Like Mica, she wasn’t blessed with the awesome ability to teleport. Only Primani could travel that way.
Sean edged Dec out of the way and squatted by the couch. Checking her out from head to toe, he felt her forehead and then checked her pulse. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Was he actually worried? This was new. He was honestly concerned. It was sweet. Dangerous thoughts. Sean Michael’s handsome little face swam in her mind’s eye. Swallowing bile and more than a little regret, she forced a cold tone. “I’m fine.
Dec’s eyebrows shot straight up. “She’s given herself a bleeding ulcer. She’s not fine.”
Rori chewed her lip and looked between Aisling and Sean, struggling to make a decision. Finally she asked Aisling, “Are you going to tell him?”
Sean sat back on his heels, eyes going flat. “Tell me what?”
Damn it. Sean can’t know about this. He would never let the threat stand. He’d go after Cain and get himself blown to pieces. The demon was indestructible. Sean Michael would be caught in the crossfire. Probably they’d all end up dead. Or worse. She was biding her time until Sean Michael was grown. Rubbing at the invisible tattoo, she dug in her heels as the memories tried to squirm their way to the surface. God. She’d been so stupid. So reckless. And for what? A little physical connection.
So not worth it.
“Ais. What happened today? Either you tell me or Rori will.” Even though his words were curt, his eyes softened, and he squeezed her leg. The contact was comforting, nice. Forbidden.
Jumping to her feet, she flung his arm away, and ground out, “Stop touching me.”
He recoiled as if she’d slapped him, and the softness was gone. Too bad her usual pain wasn’t. Instead of letting it in, she steeled against it. It was necessary. “I met a person I used to know. We had words. That’s it. Nothing more. Nothing less. Rori, don’t make a big deal out of this. I have to go.”
She needed to grab her son and get as far away from Sean as possible. Before anyone could argue, she dematerialized.
The silence was absolute for about ten seconds. Dec and Rori stared at Sean until he finally shoved a hand through his hair and swore. Classic Aisling. Always running away from him. “I don’t have the time or the energy for her friggin’ drama right now. I’ve got a funeral to go to. A woman who actually loved me is dead.”
Rori stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Wait! There’s something you need to know.”
It rained. Of course it did. Mother Nature liked her drama, didn’t she? What’s a funeral without shitty weather? Was she crying for Gina too? There must’ve been 200 people crowding into Saint Matthew’s church in Gina’s hometown of Albany. The waterworks were epic inside and out. In no mood for conversation, Sean slipped unnoticed into a pew in the back. No one looked at him. No one spoke to him. They were too focused on their grief to notice him barely holding his shit together while Father Montague comforted his flock.
Their beloved Gina would be well missed. The good priest said so. She was in a better place. The good priest said so. She was with God. She fucking better be.
She was at peace.
At least one of them was.
Gripping the pew hard enough to splinter the edges, Sean spent the entire eulogy staring at the stained glass image of Jesus, wondering how in the fucking hell beautiful, gentle souls like Gina ended up butchered by monsters. He could barely breathe through the pain in his chest. His fault. It was his existence that ended hers. It was his selfish attempt to love a human that got her killed. His heart squeezed in protest. How could she be gone? Sucking air through his teeth, he let himself feel every throb of agony. He owed it to Gina. He needed to own the pain. Own it. Use it to do what had to be done. Refusing to let bitter tears see the light of day, he jammed his grief into the corner of mind. Tears wouldn’t bring her back. Tears wouldn’t wash away the rage that boiled in his blood. Tears wouldn’t help with the one thing he could do. Irku was going down.
As Father Montague led the flock in song, Sean hung his head.
God, give me strength.
He would need more than strength for what he needed to do. He needed a miracle. Beating down another surge of raw grief, he inhaled with a shudder so he could get up and leave. Someone touched his cheek. Snapping to attention, he glanced up. A silvery shimmer disturbed the air . . . the curve of a smile teased him.
“Gina?”
Choking down a howl of pain, he blinked hard, not caring as the tears rolled down his face. She was gone. Just gone.
He had to clear his head—had to calm the fury so he could focus, plan. He needed to get through this agony so he could hold it inside. He needed to keep the pain so he’d never forget. He would find a way to avenge Gina. Irku would get what’s coming to him.
There was plenty of time.
Sean had eternity.
“Time for bed, baby.” Aisling tossed the dish towel to the counter and tapped Sean Michael on the top of his head. He glanced up with an adorable grin and unplugged his earbuds.
“But the story’s not over yet, Mom. I need ten more minutes. Please!”
He was entirely too cute sitting at the table in miniature black cammies just like his dad’s. These were pajamas, but hey, he thought they were cool. She’d given up trying to convince him they weren’t. He was destined to fight like Sean whether she wanted it or not. Sporting a stubborn streak as deep as the Grand Canyon, he would shut her out if she didn’t get on board. He was already training to use his psychic abilities, to hunt, to survive alone. In another ten years, the Primani would teach him how to kill demons, and his innocent human life would be a memory. Sooo, she’d bought him a tablet, loaded it with non-violent kids’ books, and did as many human activities as they could. He might be destined for greatness, but she’d be damned if he’d grow up acting like it. As long as she was around, he was going to be a kid.
He could have ten more minutes of reading. No prob. They were going to disappear for a few weeks tomorrow. She hated to jerk him out of his routine, but she would take him to the North Pole if that would keep him safe until they could get rid of Cain. Kissing his forehead one last time, she called the dogs for a potty break out back.
“Beautiful boy.”
The words and the violence came out of nowhere. Before she could even yelp, he propelled her against the side of the house with his hand covering her mouth. Her head bounced off of the wall, sending spots dancing in her eyes. Tensing to struggle, she froze at the next words.
“Don’t make me kill him.”
She bit his fingers and opened her mouth to yell, “Run!” but his mouth replaced his bloody fingers. Driving her spine into the brick, he kissed her brutally until she saw spots again. This time, from lack of oxygen as she scratched and dug at his arms. Digging her knee into his balls, she shoved at him. Not even fazed by her efforts, he shifted to trap her legs between his and squeezed until she stopped struggling. Shoving his hand over her mouth again, he leaned back to study her.
“I think you’ve missed me, angel. Shall we pick up where we left off in Rome?”
Over her dead body. She glared hard enough to singe the skin stretched across his cheekbones. The curl of smoke hung between them. Searching her eyes, he tucked her pelvis against the erection that strained between them. As impossible as it seemed, her body, her traitorous, stupid body, responded. Her saol pumped so fast she moaned at the pressure. She was about to melt. Trapped by his arms, every instinct screamed to attack, kill him, fight . . .
On the other side of Plattsburgh, Sean tossed back another shot and stared into the trees. Dec poured him another and passed it without comment. The bottle was about done. They’d run out of alcohol. He was still sober. Shit.
Worst. Day. Ever.
The floorboards creaked when Mica padded across the wooden porch. Her eyes rested on the six-pack of empty bourbon bottles, but she didn’t comment either. She’d brought them a pizza earlier. Said they had to eat. Can’t get drunk on an empty stomach or some shit like that. Now she collected the uneaten mess of congealed cheese and sausage without a word. After tossing the box into the trash can, she crouched to rest her cheek on his knee.
“Talk to me, Sean. What can I do?” Just the sound of her voice gave him comfort. The kindness in her eyes . . . her fierce protective nature . . . all things she couldn’t help. She loved him. Unable to stop the impulse, he rested his hand on the back of her hair to let some of her warmth soothe his raw emotions.
The last thing he wanted was love right now. He damn sure didn’t want comfort. He wanted something a lot simpler, more pure. He wanted to kill something.
“You’ve done enough. I’ll be fine.”
His cell phone vibrated so hard it fell off the table. The subtle crash cut off whatever Mica had been thinking of saying. Giving her a dismissive shrug, he scooped it up.
Aisling? WTF. She was the absolutely last person he wanted to yap at him. Putting it on ignore, he set the phone down.
It went off again.
Mica frowned at the screen and said, “Twice in one minute? It must be important. Answer the damn phone.”
Snatching it, he demanded, “What do you want, Aisling? I’m not in the mood right now.”
But it wasn’t his baby mama on the other end. Sean Michael’s panicked voice shouted through the speaker. His words made no sense whatsoever, but the terror was coming through crystal clear. The only words he caught were man and hurting Mom.
“Go hide. We’re coming!”
A split second later, he and Dec rematerialized in the front of Aisling’s house, hugging shadows to keep from getting surprised by bullets. Straining to hear what was happening, he motioned for Dec to wait. Voices—hushed—but definitely voices, came from the back yard.
I’ll get Sean Michael. Dec’s words went straight inside his head.
Sean nodded and moved towards the backyard. The sound of Aisling’s voice cut through the night. Listening easily, he went ghost. She wasn’t exactly calm, but she wasn’t screaming. Maybe she had things under control after all?
They had company. Irku stiffened, listening, sending his sight out. Primani. Not part of his plan for the night, but he was flexible. Aisling was still encircled in his arms unable to move because he’d willed her in place. Time to give her some slack. He released her mouth.
“If you touch him, I’ll kill you!”
So cute, really. Her threats were ridiculous. Entertaining. Her hands were still gripping his shoulders as he shifted his weight to murmur in her ear, “You don’t want to kill me. Open your legs, cara. I’ve missed you.” He buried his nose against her throat, feeling her heart pound as she struggled to get her soal under control before it set her on fire. The sound would roar in her ears . . .
“Rome was a mistake. I was weak.” She pushed at his hands, but he kept them exactly where he wanted them. After all, they would have an audience.
He smiled into her eyes. “It’ll be like old times, yes? Remember how I fucked you under the statue of Gabriel? Your hands were tied to the back of his wings with your dress shoved up to bare your beautiful ass. The copper was a good conductor for our energy. I lit you up from the inside out.” Releasing his fangs, he nipped at her throat, lapping at the blood that trickled from the tiny puncture. His tongue lulled her until her eyes rolled back in her head. Still so responsive. Mmm. “You nearly exploded then. Do you remember how good it felt?”
As he spoke, he caressed her breast, eyes locked to hers, soaking in the helplessness. Ah, yes, and the fury. His dirty little angel was as fiery as ever. She was ready to ignite. Perfect.
“Get on your knees, and let’s re-live old memories.”
Sean froze. Who the fuck was that? He’d thought Aisling was in trouble. Jesus. The last thing he wanted to see was her blowing some guy. He was out of here. He’d taken a step when her furious words stopped him cold.
“No! I’m through heeling like your bitch, Cain. I’ll find a way to get free of you even if I have to cut you out of my soul with your own goddamned athame.”
Athame? Cain? Slowly turning around for a better look, he sized up the big man’s back. This was Cain? He was tall. He was broad shouldered and bigger than Killian. Sean didn’t particularly like the way he dominated Aisling’s space. She all but disappeared between this dick’s body and the brick wall. His demeanor wasn’t romantic; it was threatening. He looked human though. Why would he have an athame?
“Always so dramatic.” The man forced Aisling to her knees with one wave of his hand. Her body bowed against the pressure, but she sank to the ground despite her resistance.
Ah, hell. Not human. Sonofabitch.
Cain?
No way. It couldn’t be.
“You’ll be my bitch until I’m tired of you.” He made a jerking motion with his hand that snapped her head back. She gagged, clawing at her throat. “Stay.”
With that, he shimmered out, and all hell broke loose.
From inside the house, Dec roared, “No!”
Aisling collapsed to the grass, gasping and coughing for air. Sean flashed to her side just as Dec rematerialized beside them yelling, “He took Sean Michael!”
Aisling lurched to her feet, crying, “No! Cain! Bring him back! I’ll do whatever you want!”
Soft laughter sent a chill over his neck. He knew that sound. Not Cain.
“Yes, cara, you will. Ad infinitum.” Cain set Sean Michael at Aisling’s feet with a pat on the head. The little boy threw his arms around his mom and glared at the demon.
Turning to Sean, he dropped his human facade. As the great wings unfurled, Sean’s stomach clenched. The demon reached into his chest, twisting his heart until he dropped to his knees, the agony blinding him to everything but a red haze of exploding nerve endings. The surge of blood to his ears couldn’t drown out the softly spoken words—
“Everyone you care about.”
Worst. Day. Ever.