Ben parked his SUV outside the Home Brew coffee shop Grace had suggested in Arillia’s city square. It was about as public as public got. He’d been jacked about her reaching out to join the Shepherds, until he learned Gideon had been her first point of contact.
Why the hell she’d called that piece of shit… He unclenched his jaw and let the thought drop. The last thing he needed was to show up in a rage and scare her away again. Besides, she might’ve called Ryczek, but she’d wanted to meet with Ben first. That win was his.
He jammed his vehicle into park and shut it off. The sun was nearly down, so the clear glass windows of the café were easy to see through. Grace sat in the far corner, her hair was down, hands wrapped around a steaming mug. Those icy-blue eyes scanned everyone in the place. She was looking for him.
A smirk spread across his face. Popping his door open, he climbed out.
A bell buzzed when he crossed inside. She glanced his way as he approached, and a small smile took her when she spotted him. His chest tightened. Jesus, she was beautiful. She was like the damn sun, her presence lit the room and it was almost painful to look at her.
“Grace.” He pulled out his chair, took a seat and angled closer as he set his forearms on the table. Don’t overdo it, Ben. He relaxed the set of his shoulders. “Let’s try this again, shall we?”
She laughed. It wasn’t much, but it was better than her diving out another window. He wasn’t about to say it, but that shit had stung bad.
She leaned back in her seat and clasped her hands in her lap. “Thanks for meeting me. Did you want something to drink?”
“I’m not here for the coffee,” he said, putting as much insinuation in the words as he could manage.
She blushed. Deep. That was good. He liked knowing he could affect her like that. He raised his chin. What else could he make her do? “I was surprised when Elijah contacted me.”
Brushing her hair back over her shoulder, she exposed the long lines of her neck. He followed the v of her shirt collar down and tried not to stare at the curve of her breasts, but sweet Christ they were perfect.
“I’m surprised Gideon passed the message along.”
His stare snapped up and he went rigid. The sound of the guy’s name from her mouth had his anger spike. Keep cool, Ben. Keep fucking cool. You’ll shut her down if you lose it. He flattened his sweat-slicked palms to the cold table. “He’s compelled to,” he replied, because like hell he’d ever give the guy credit. He wanted her thoughts as far from Ryczek as possible. Peering at her from the corner of his eye, he forced the edge of his mouth up. Forced it hard. The hum of voices around them drowned out any potential bleed of their conversation, regardless, he kept his words low. “Time for an education.”
Her head tilted. That hair slipped forward and the visual of her straddling him while it curtained his face flashed across his mind.
“An education?” she asked.
He cleared his throat. “There’s a lot you need to know. First thing’s first, I’m Benjamin Jones, Head of the Arillia Territory Sect of Nephilim.” He extended a hand.
She moved slowly and her gaze narrowed as she shifted in her seat. Leaning forward, she took it. Her skin was warm and soft, and he had to fight the urge to hold her there, especially when she blushed. Again.
He gave her hand a slight squeeze, then released her. “Let’s start with the basics. Do you have other family?”
She shook her head. “Noah, but he’s not blood.”
A twinge of irritation twisted his gut. The idea of her living with another man, whether he was gay or not, grated on him.
“What about you? Do you have family?” Her palms wrapped around her mug, nails tinking against it before she took a long drink.
“If I do, I don’t remember them.”
“What do you mean?”
He shook his head. “Our kind are handed over by our mothers at birth, raised by the Shepherds, then educated and trained until we begin our service.”
The wince she wore was cute as hell. “Given over by your mothers?”
He inclined his head. “Only the female Cherubim and Dark Seraphim are permitted to conceive.”
Her grip tensed on the cup. “And what are they?”
You idiot, Ben. He’d backed himself into a corner because he didn’t have a single fucking answer that wouldn’t freak her out. His mouth ran dry. “Angels and demons.”
She rubbed the back of her neck and her eyes darted to the exit. “And why…” She cleared her throat. “Why are they the only ones permitted to conceive?”
He hadn’t thought about that stuff for a long-ass time. Being discarded by your mother wasn’t something he enjoyed looking at too closely, but if it’d get that “I wanna bolt” look from her wide eyes, he’d say whatever the fuck he needed to. He shrugged and let loose a dark laugh. “Ripping infants from human mothers would draw too much attention to our world.”
Her shoulders dropped, and when she spoke, her words were soothing. “I’m so sorry.”
Back on track. His heartbeat kicked up a notch. Oof. That attention. He fucking loved it. He wanted more. “It’s all I’ve known.”
“It’s just wrong. You were only children.” Her mouth turned down at the corners. “What about your father?”
“I never met him.” The piece of shit. “What about your parents? You said your mom died a few years ago.”
Grace looked away. “She was killed in a car crash.”
“I’m sorry,” he said as he echoed her sentiment, hoping to draw her gaze. He didn’t like her attention anywhere but on him. Wanting it back, he opened his mouth to change the subject but was cut off before he could.
“Grace?” a familiar voice called.
Her face lit up, then fell immediately. Her eyes landed on Ben before they flicked back to the other woman.
His hand twitched when Jenna stopped beside their table. Her voice was thick with tension when she said, “You came back.”
He supposed the unease made sense considering Grace had man-handled her just the night before. And who knew what’d been said between the two when they were in that bathroom alone?
Grace nodded. “I, ugh…I should probably apologize for what happened. I just–”
“It’s fine,” Jenna said, tone rising as she set a hand on Grace’s shoulder. “I would’ve been freaked if it were me.”
When Grace squeezed that hand, white spots flashed in Ben’s vision, and he infused as much time to leave now into the stare he gave Jenna as he could. And she might’ve gotten the hint if she’d been looking.
“What are you doing here?” Grace asked her.
Jenna reached inside her navy-blue winter coat and pulled out a lanyard with her work pass on the end. “I’m an archivist for the city. I work across from that high-end hardware store around the corner. I just finished up for the day.”
His blood burned a path through his veins. It was his time with Grace. Mine. Move. The. Fuck. Along, Jenna.
“You should join us.” Grace offered.
Shit.
Jenna glanced his way. Stuff with Grace was still too tenuous. He didn’t need to ruin things by tearing Jenna a new asshole. Plastering on a fake-as-shit smile, he nodded and used his foot to nudge a chair back for her.
She opened her coat and sat. “How are you doing, Grace?”
Why hadn’t he thought to ask that? Dammit. She might think he didn’t care. He’d need to work on that. Leaning forward, he gave Grace every bit of his attention.
Picking at a loose thread on her sleeve, she said, “I’m alright, I think. Who knows? I’m still wrapping my head around everything. I have so many questions.”
“What do you want to know?” Ben cut in. “Ask anything.” There, that’d show her he was open, that he gave a shit.
She tipped her head down and pointed at his forearm. “About the Marks…”
He rolled up his sleeve and exposed them.
Reaching out, she set her finger to his skin and bit her lip. His cock twitched. Christ, he had to chill. An erection straining his pants wasn’t what he needed. Want, yeah. Need, no.
Jenna peered around, but Ben didn’t care. No one outside of them had the Sight. They’d likely think Grace was being handsy, or that they were together. He was good with that. Would he have done it if Elijah was there? Abso-fucking-lutely not. But the Agent wasn’t, which meant Ben was in charge.
“So, this is the Absolution Mark,” she said as she traced it. Her touch trailed from his wrist to the center of his forearm. “This is the Passage.” She moved higher and stopped just under his elbow. “And this is the Gateway?”
He swallowed hard, trying to get his damn throat to work. His voice was rough when he said, “Yes.”
“Are you the only one who has it?”
His pulse kicked up. “Only Sect Leaders are granted access to the Gateways. Not everyone can be trusted with what sits on the other side.” He smirked inside. See, you can trust me, Grace.
Her eyes flared wide, and he had to fight from stopping her when she drew back her hand. “And what about the Marks on the dead? What do they mean?”
A woman and her child walked by, passing too close to their table. He followed them in his peripheral vision until they were gone. “The ones on the right arm belong to us. They’re the Remissibilia Peccata.”
The laugh that escaped her was high, and she vigorously rubbed the back of her neck. “And what are those?”
“It’s Latin for forgivable sins.” Jenna elaborated. “Bad, but not bad, bad.”
“And the ones on the left arm?”
If Jenna hadn’t been there, he’d have said more, but her presence was a complication. “Elijah’s ordered me just to share the Nephilim side of things. I’m capped with what I can say, so that’s on Gideon to answer.” Just the mention of the guy had his heart pounding in his ears.
Grace worried her lip between her teeth, and her eyes fixed on something across the room like she was thinking. Hard. “Am I in danger with him?”
“Yes,” Ben said, the answer swift. Forceful.
Jenna pursed her lips. “He’s not going to hurt you.”
Grace’s gaze bounced between them. “What am I missing?”
“Lesser Demons are manipulative,” he finished. “You saw how Gideon was the other night. He’s always looking for a way to reap the benefits of his situation.”
Twisting the sleeve of her shirt between her fingers, she bit the inside of her cheek. “And what benefit would I present?”
“His kind seek any advantage they can find. That and he likes women. A lot. You’d just be added to his collection.”
She glanced down.
“The guy’s got a reputation for screwing anything that moves.” Ben slid his hands into his pockets to hide his clenched fists. “You can’t trust him, or any Lesser Demons for that matter.”
“Careful, Ben,” Jenna warned. “Elijah’s rules.”
His jaw locked down so hard he thought his teeth would break and he had to stifle the growl that wanted to rip from his throat. He took a beat to consider his words before he offered Grace the full weight of his attention. “Let’s try this this then; the Nephilim fight for Heaven and the virtue of mankind.”
Her voice hitched when she uttered, “And Gideon fights for Hell.” Her piercing eyes rose to his. “I get the sense your distaste for him is personal?”
Jenna’s hair jolted when she looked away.
Why was Grace so interested in the guy? He thought he’d been clear about everything, but apparently not clear enough. He’d fix that. Angling back, he gave the chair the rest of his weight. “Hard not to be when he slept with my fiancé.”
Her lips parted, and she sucked in a shallow breath.
Hold up. Had that made it sound like he was still engaged? “I ended things with Leah as soon as I found out what happened.” The smile he offered her was empty. “Gideon likes taking what isn’t his.”
“Is Leah still a part of your Sect?”
“She’s not a Shepherd,” Jenna answered.
Grace’s head cocked. “I was under the impression all of this,” she gestured between the three of them, “was supposed to be kept quiet.”
“It is,” Ben said. “I told Leah I worked for the church.” He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Just not in what capacity. People can’t know the truth of our world.”
“But why?” A line creased between Grace’s brows when she frowned. “Wouldn’t it serve them better if the truth was out there?”
Jenna shrugged. “If they knew Heaven and Hell were real, would their choices be from want or necessity?”
Grace pursed her lips but nodded. She blew out a heavy exhale and tipped her head toward Jenna’s name badge. “So how does that work? You having a job and being a Shepherd?”
“Because I live off-compound—”
“Wait.” Grace stuck her hands out, palm up, then dropped them. “Off-compound? What compound?”
Ben clutched the inside of his pockets so he didn’t cross his arms over his chest. The last thing he needed was Jenna saying too much and ruining his progress. If he wanted control of the conversation, he was gonna have to take it.
“It’s where the majority of the Nephilim live,” he said. “Anyone who doesn’t have a traditional job usually helps out with the Hall of Shepherds where our kind are schooled.”
Grace’s eyes slid his way. “And how do you afford to pay bills? Survive?”
Jenna shifted like she was about to add more but that wasn’t her call. He was the Sect Leader. Elijah had instructed him to talk to Grace, so he decided what was shared and what Grace was ready for.
“They pay us.” He shifted and levelled a savage glare Jenna’s way.
Taking the hint, she grabbed her purse and pushed back from her seat. “I should probably get going, Grace. But listen, my job gives me access to information. If you ever decide you want to, I can help you research your parents.”
Grace paled like she’d been punched in the gut then nodded and offered a tight smile. “Thank you.”
Jenna walked away, finally.
Ben slipped his hands from his pockets. “Everything alright, Grace?”
She set her chin in her palm. “All this talk of my parents just has me…” She sighed. “Either the mother and father I grew up believing in weren’t actually my family, or mom kept a pretty dark secret from me. No matter which way I slice it, she hid the truth. I’ve gotta find out why.”
He wrapped his palm around her dainty forearm, enjoying every goddamn second of it. “Don’t worry about that yet. We’ll need to go to The Chronicle before you can get those answers anyway.”
Eyes narrowing, she asked, “Why?”
He winced. Not good. “To make sure their names match what you’ve been told.”
Her shoulders sagged, and she twisted her drink, staring at it for several seconds. “What did you mean before when you said the Nephilim fight for Heaven?”
His fingers flexed against her. “This is a war.” She pulled herself from his grasp. Shit. Fix it, Ben. Fix it! “The majority of it’s perpetrated through influence, so the Nephilim try to lead people towards salvation.”
“So your purpose is to sway people to your side.”
“That’s part of it.” He angled closer. “But at the end of days, it’s our job to fight and protect Heaven and its souls.”
Her laugh edged on hysteria as she peered toward the ceiling.
Too far. You went too far, Ben. Walk her back. “It’s alright, Grace. I’m here to guide you through this. I promise, you can trust me.”
The tension around her eyes eased, but barely. Not enough for him to relax. He stilled when an idea hit. Maybe scaring could work in his favor, as long as she was scared was of the right thing. He needed to make sure if she ever ran again, it was towards him. He smiled inside. “When The Chronicle arrives, we’ll figure out which side your blood belongs to. But someday, Heaven and Hell will face off in the war to end all wars. If Heaven wins, it means deliverance. If it’s Hell, then it’s the end of days.”
Her hand dropped to her stomach, and her throat bobbed as she swallowed.
There it was. Time to move in for the strike because he wouldn’t lose to Gideon. Not again. Sitting up straight, he squared his shoulders and put as much confidence into his next words as he could. “Our blood makes us who and what we are. It determines everything, Grace. Never forget that.”