Lazarus came awake with a start and automatically reached out, searching for Eve, only to find the sheet still warm from her body but the space beside him empty. He tensed then shook his head at his behavior, forcing his muscles to relax.
She couldn’t even go to the bathroom without him worrying…missing her.
Shit, Lazarus had lain himself bare before her last night, and instead of turning her back on him, she’d embraced him, kissed him…loved him.
Eve had opened herself to him while they’d made love, had given herself over so sweetly. Fighting the link that would bind them together forever had been so damn hard, but he had, because he wanted Eve to know exactly what was happening when they took it there. He wanted her to experience it with him, every moment.
Now he just had to figure out how to ask her. Did he go the human route: romantic dinner? Eve had believed herself to be human for most of her life. Is that what she’d want? Should he get down on one knee and give her a piece of jewelry? Fucked if he knew, but he wanted it to be special.
He rubbed his hands over his face and let out a shaky breath. He’d get down on his goddamn knees and beg her to accept him if he had to. After losing Scarlet, he’d believed he didn’t deserve happiness, that he deserved the pain of losing his own mate just like Tobias, and maybe that was still true, but in punishing himself he was hurting Eve as well.
He couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. She was all that mattered.
She was everything.
Screw romantic dinners and human traditions. As soon as she returned he’d ask her to be his. He would make her his.
He lay there for several minutes more, getting impatient. His hearing was exceptional and he closed her eyes and used his senses to search her out. Nothing. Silence.
Heavy, empty silence.
Ripping the covers back, he practically flew out of bed.
Something was wrong. He knew it, felt it.
After yanking on his jeans, he pounded down the stairs to the bar, and nearly tripped over a couple of drinks sitting on one of the lower steps. He picked up one of the cans. Ice cold.
She’d been down here, and something had disturbed her before she made it back to him.
Brent stumbled into view, clutching his bleeding head. “I’m sorry, Laz. Jesus, I’m so sorry,” he gasped.
“Eve,” he barked out.
“Gone,” Brent choked.
“No.” He grabbed the other male. “Where is she? Where the fuck is she?”
“They took her. They fucking took her.”
The delivery entrance door hung open and Lazarus ran out into the alley. This couldn’t be happening. He instantly picked up the familiar lingering scent, the unmistakable stench of Orthon, foul and evil.
A roar ripped from his throat, and he clung to the wall. It was either that or fall to his knees. He had failed her. She was in the hands of his enemy, at the mercy of beings that didn’t know the meaning of the word.
Forcing oxygen back into his lungs, he tried to calm himself enough to think. He pushed through the door, pounded back up the stairs to their room, and strapped on his blades.
He had to believe she would be okay; that he would get to her in time. Anything else was unacceptable. Tobias had taken Eve, an innocent in all this. The bastard wouldn’t care, too far gone for rational thought. Revenge was all Tobias cared about. He wanted to take Eve from him permanently.
Rising panic took over. His demon wanted blood, screamed out for Eve, fought to take over Lazarus, but his rage helped fight his demon back. The bond, now stronger than ever, between him and Eve helped him keep control, the male desperate to find his mate.
Brent was waiting for him when he came back down. “I’ve called the others.” He was leaning heavily on the doorframe.
Laz didn’t answer, couldn’t even if he wanted to. He nodded and headed down to the alleyway. Cool air and the stench of garbage mixed with the lingering scent of Orthon hit him. With her still wearing the amulet, he couldn’t track her, couldn’t sense her power. He had no fucking clue where to start.
Not knowing what the fuck to do, he called for Silas. He called the fucker until his voice was raw. The angel never came.
In the end, not knowing what else to do, Lazarus took to the skies, circling, desperate for anything, any sign of Eve or Tobias.
He was standing on top of an apartment building, with no idea how much time had passed, when the thud of boots hitting concrete had Lazarus looking up from the streets below.
Gunner, Rocco, Zenon, and Chaos stood there, wings tucked into their backs, crowding the rooftop.
“Fuck, Laz,” Rocco said, strain clear in his voice.
Lazarus didn’t want sympathy. He wanted to find Eve.
“You sure it was Tobias?” Gunner asked.
Chaos stepped forward. “It had to be.”
Lazarus shoved his fingers through his hair. “Where the fuck would he take her?”
That’s when it sunk in: the real reason Silas chose not to fill him in on what Eve was, why he kept it a secret. He’d used her as bait. Diemos had felt her, too, when she came into her powers. Of course he did. The daughter of a handmaid, a way to release all the horrors of Hell on Earth, and a true escape for the demon after being unable to leave for centuries.
The angel knew Diemos would send Tobias after Eve.
Bringing him right to Lazarus. Making it easier for him to kill his brother.
Well, Silas’s plan had fucking backfired, and Lazarus was going to end the fucker when he saw him next.
“Do you have something with her scent on it?” Gunner said. “We can take it to Warrick.”
Warrick was a friend of Gunner’s and a ranking hellhound in his pack. He was also one of the best trackers the hounds had.
Lazarus went back to the club, to their room. The entire apartment was filled with her scent, sweet and delicate. He picked up her shirt, the one she’d been wearing last night, and he held it to his nose, breathing in deeply. His demon cried out, wanted to maim, to kill.
For once they were in full accord.
The hounds had set up in Linville, New Jersey, population 3007. Now they ran the place. People here thought they were just another motorcycle club. They had no clue about the monsters they had on their doorstep. The hounds owned the local bar and ran a garage out of the old factory they’d moved into when they liberated themselves from Hell.
They hired themselves out as mercenaries. Loyal to no one. Lazarus didn’t blame them, not after the way they were treated by Diemos and his brethren.
It took two hours to reach the clubhouse. Flying made the trip shorter, but coming here still meant losing time they didn’t have.
The place was huge. On the surface, it looked like what it was: a run-down factory, and with their patch painted on one of the outside walls, a motorcycle club. But inside, underground, there was a whole lot more.
The pack was big, and that was made more obvious by the number of bikes lined up outside the main doors.
Lazarus landed first, his brothers close behind. Gunner moved ahead, leading them toward the entrance of the clubhouse. A snarl came from behind them, so loud and deep it seemed to vibrate through their feet. Then another from the side.
In moments, they were surrounded by the hounds. They were in their human forms, no claws or massive jaws on display, but that didn’t make the large males and several females any less dangerous.
“We’re here to see Warrick,” Gunner said.
One of the males broke away and moved closer. “You know better than to come here like this, Gunner,” he growled. “You use wings to breach our clubhouse without an invite, you get them torn off.”
Zenon growled as well, his yellow eyes near glowing, fury radiating off him. “Fucking try it,” he rumbled.
“Rein it in,” Chaos said to Zenon.
“You know I have respect for the pack,” Gunner said. “But we need Warrick’s help and we’re running out of time.” He motioned to Lazarus. “His mate was taken by Diemos. We need to track her before it’s too late.”
More growls and vicious curses rang out around them. They hated Diemos almost as much as the knights did. After Lucifer was overthrown, leaving Diemos in charge, he had treated the hounds like shit, had used them, forced them to do a lot of things they sure as hell didn’t like, which was why they’d finally left as soon as they got the chance.
The knights had agreed to their terms, had given them sanctuary, and they’d agreed not to harm humans, and to help them out on occasion. An understanding had formed between them, a truce. If tentative.
“I need something to scent.”
Warrick’s voice echoed across the lots as he strode toward them. Lower-ranking pack members backed up, getting out of his way as the huge male joined them.
Lazarus pulled Eve’s shirt from the waistband of his jeans where he’d tucked it during the flight, and handed it to Warrick.
The other male put it to his nose and sniffed, drawing her scent in deep, eyes closing. Hellhounds weren’t like other canines; they were created in Hell by Lucifer himself, which meant they had their own powers. Warrick was an alpha, would more than likely run the pack one day, and his powers were stronger than most. He didn’t need to physically follow Eve’s sent. He saw it in his mind, would be able to pinpoint her location from that shirt in moments.
His eyes snapped open, and they were glowing red for several moments before changing back to normal. He pulled his phone from his back pocket, clicked open an app with maps written under it, tapped something out, and zoomed in on a location before holding it up to Lazarus.
“She’s here.”
Every one of Lazarus’s muscles was tensed, ready to take flight. “I owe you.”
With no time to waste, he stood back, making room for the massive span of his unfurling wings. Charcoal and silver-flecked feathers glittered in the light, and with each lift and pull he caught the air and lifted off with all the power and speed he could muster, his brothers close behind.
Moving at speed, Lazarus rose above the cloud bank.
Urgency, along with guilt reached up and gripped him by the throat. Now he understood what it would mean to lose her, to lose the person that you loved absolutely.
The emotion defied definition.
I love her.
The realization settled over him like a gentle caress, and for once he didn’t try to fight it. He loved her. How could he not? If he was honest, he’d been hers from the moment he spotted her up that ladder in her little store, despite how hard he tried to deny his feelings.
Tobias had suffered the overwhelming sorrow of losing his mate, and it had changed him, had destroyed a once fierce and loyal warrior. He was lost forever, and though it pained Laz, he had to end this today. His brother didn’t exist anymore. Eve was all that mattered. It was too late for Tobias.
God, Heaven, the fucking uppity angels that resided there, he’d never asked them for anything, not a damn thing, but he prayed now. He prayed for Eve to still be alive. He begged the Fates to keep her safe until he could reach her.
Twenty minutes later he had passed over buildings and skyscrapers and kept going until he flew over large yards and even larger houses. She was close.
“There,” he growled to Chaos who flew at his side.
The house was huge, like the others in the area, with a silver car parked in the driveway. There wasn’t much in the way of security from what he could see, but then Tobias wouldn’t be expecting him. His brother thought he was untouchable.
As much as he wanted to swoop in, kill anything that moved, and take Eve home, he had to play it safe. One wrong move and Tobias would kill her, or worse—because Eve would suffer a million painful deaths at his hands—deliver her to Diemos. If he knew what she was, what she was capable of…
Fuck.
Lazarus circled the outer perimeter several times, pinpointing entry points and guard positions. His best option would be one of the unguarded doors on a second-floor balcony.
“I’m going in,” Laz said to Chaos. “It’s too dangerous for all of us to go in at once. If Tobias knows we’re here, he’ll kill her before I can get to her. Give me time to find her and assess the situation before you follow.”
Chaos’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t try to convince him otherwise because he’d be wasting his breath. “Be careful,” he said.
Laz dipped his chin, and letting his powerful wings do the work, slowed his momentum and landed effortlessly on the closest balcony.
The room beyond was silent, empty, and he easily broke the lock. A thick layer of dust covered the furniture and the room smelled musty. The décor was not Tobias’s usual taste—lace and ruffles adorned the feminine room.
Eve was in the house, suddenly he could feel her, which meant Tobias had more than likely found the amulet and removed it.
He gritted his teeth.
Fuck. Stay focused.
Yeah, he could sense her power loud and clear now.
The buzzing awareness of her grew stronger, spiking. It turned his veins to ice, abrading his nerves like coarse sandpaper.
Something was wrong.
He had to get to her. Now.
He listened for movement beyond the wooden door that led from the room into the main house. Silence greeted him.
Easing it open, he moved into the hall, the plush carpet muting his footfalls. As he passed the next room, the smell of death, stale and sickly sweet, wafted from under the closed door. A human. More than likely the owner or owners of the house. Another victim in Tobias’s quest for revenge.
The blood on Lazarus’s hands grew thicker by the day in the fallout from his carelessness.
He had to stop this now. Eve would not be the next victim. He shook his head, stopping the thought before it sent rage and fear pulsing through his veins and weakened him.
He cursed under his breath at the sound and smell of more than one demon pounding up the stairs, heading in his direction. Stepping back into the room, he waited for them to get closer.
As soon as they were in striking distance, Lazarus stepped out, removing the head of the first with his short sword, then spun, nailing the second in the heart. Quickly dragging the bodies out of the hall, he removed the second demons head then shut them in the room, concealing them before they could ash out and draw unwanted attention.
Making sure the way was clear, Lazarus headed to the lower level via a rear staircase. The buzz of Eve’s power grew even stronger, drawing him deeper. She was in the basement.
He came to a small landing that turned abruptly. Bingo. Golden light ghosted from the deep recesses.
Lazarus’s every muscle strained to breaking point with the tension it took to make himself move at a slow pace.
Red rage almost blinded him, but he called on every bit of self-control. All that mattered was getting to Eve.
But before he could make it to the basement, more demons, Orthon, were approaching in front and behind him. This time he had nowhere to go.
He pulled his sword free and prepared to fight.