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When Lucifer found Irdu, years ago, with a hitchhiking cherub, he gave Irdu a choice. Asked him if he could be any kind of demon or angel, what would he be?
Irdu was twenty-five, horny constantly, and an awkward nerd who was convinced he’d never get laid. His answer seemed easy and straightforward at the time. He wanted to be an incubus.
He’d never complained about the choice. There were a lot of things he didn’t like about being beholden to Lucifer, but the ability to seduce anyone who was interested, and the confidence he needed to go along with it? He’d never wasted that gift.
But having Ronnie in his life was comforting. Knowing when she knocked on his apartment door and he let her in, there was a good chance sex was on the table, but cuddling was nice too.
Neither of those was happening right now, since she was pacing his living room and raking her fingers through her hair.
“Talk to me,” he said. When she’d called, he meant to make tonight when he talked to her about her event-finder activity.
That would wait until she was a little calmer.
“I don’t know where to start. This shit with Izzy and his boyfriend... Have you met him? Creepy, creepy fucker. He just stares.”
Irdu stepped up behind Ronnie and settled his hands on her shoulders. She paused. When he kneaded into the muscle, she groaned. Technically she shouldn’t have any aches from stress, but the gesture would feel good regardless. “Most people stare when it comes to me. Gay guys too. So... can’t say I noticed.”
She leaned her weight back into him, and pulled his arms to drape over her shoulders. The contact was pleasant, as was the trust it implied. He was glad she’d come here and not invited him to her place.
Correction—Michael’s place. Irdu didn’t blame her for staying there. It was huge. Free rent. The keys were literally just handed to her. He was a little jealous that she still missed Michael. She didn’t talk about it much, but the sentiment was there. Michael hadn’t earned her adoration. His missing presence didn’t deserve to be mourned.
But that wasn’t why Irdu stayed away. The place reeked of heaven and it made his skin crawl.
“It’s just...” she sighed. “As if this whole agents are going missing thing wasn’t stressful enough, today it’s all falling apart.”
Between Tia and Ronnie, Irdu knew most of the story, and why Ronnie had suspicions about Holden. He understood exactly why it added to her tension, so he squeezed her tight instead of interrupting.
“And then today, out of the blue, Abaddon showed up and—”
“Wait.” Irdu’s entire body went rigid. “Abaddon? The assassin of heaven?”
Ronnie pulled away and turned to face him. “Yes...”
“And you left Tia there? Alone? Watching someone being hunted by a vengeful angel? One of Gabriel’s most loyal?”
Ronnie winced. “She’s capable. I trust her. And she’s got strict instructions to observe only. Not to engage. They’re in a separate apartment that’s warded, and so is her place.”
Irdu wasn’t reassured. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he stepped back. Flashes from that night, so many months ago, filled his memories. “Ariel took out an entire Ubiquity apartment block. If Tia is in the same city, I’m worried. You left her a few feet away.”
“We’re all in the same city. And she’s creeping up on a century old. You have to let her grow up sometime.”
He didn’t appreciate the scolding. “I’d be just as worried about you being in that situation if you didn’t have the power of an original at your fingertips. You’d worry about the same for me. Why. Is she. Still there?”
“I tried to pull her.” Defensiveness slid into Ronnie’s voice. She insisted I leave her in place, and refused to let me put someone else in that situation just because I know her personally. As soon as I found out Abaddon was involved, I told her I was taking her off the assignment. She told me no.”
“You could have pulled rank. Done it anyway.” Why were they still talking? Someone needed to take action.
“Really?” Ronnie crossed her arms. “I should have forced her? She made a compelling point. This was her decision. We don’t take away free will.”
“No. We just twist the truth to get people to make the decisions we want them to. She’s my sister. It doesn’t matter that she’s an adult and immortal. She’s the only person in the world I can trust.”
Hurt splashed across Ronnie’s face, and he realized how cruel he sounded. He hadn’t meant it that way. So why couldn’t he take the words back?
“Tia will be fine.” Ronnie clipped off her reply. She frowned then wobbled. Her hand flew to her forehead.
“Ronnie?” Concern flared through Irdu.
“My wards around the apartment just shattered.”
He was gone before she finished the thought, phasing to the landing in front of Tia’s. Ronnie appeared next to him a blink later.
Tia’s apartment door hung open, hinges and frame broken. Lingering traces of broken magic littered the air. The distinct scent of ozone singed his sinuses like a dry storm on a summer’s night. Lightning. Abaddon.
He ran into the room, heart racing. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know.” Ronnie searched the other half of the apartment. The entire process only took a few seconds, and then she blinked out of sight. She returned a heartbeat later, face drawn and pale. “Izzy and Holden are gone too.”
“Fuck.” Irdu didn’t care that he was shouting. Didn’t give a damn if the entire block heard him. Whoever—whatever—had been here was powerful. Strong enough to blow through Ronnie’s wards. Fear and the unknown clenched in his chest. Threatening to choke off his breath. “If anything happens to Tia, there’s going to be a serious lack of forgiveness going around.”
“I’m calling Lucifer.” Ronnie had her phone out, and was pressing it to her ear. “We have a problem,” she said into the receiver.
Damn right they did.
* * * *
IZZY FORCED HIS EYES open, despite the clawing desire to curl up and sleep away this bad dream. The room was pitch black. Someone shoved him and he stumbled, but complied with the insistence he move forward. The restraints on his wrists were cut. He rubbed the slices in his skin while he searched the darkness for a hint of light.
“Izzy.” Tia. She couldn’t be in on this.
Though, why was he surprised at this point? The door latched shut behind him, and the bare bulb in the center of the room assaulted his vision. He cringed and blinked at the sudden brightness, trying to bring things back into focus. He almost lost his balance when Tia tossed her arms around his neck and hugged him tight.
“I’m so sorry. I’m glad to see you, but I’m sorry I didn’t protect you,” she said.
Apparently everyone was sorry today. Yet shitty things kept happening. Izzy’s world solidified into more than blurry shapes. The only furniture was a handful of folding chairs. The room was even smaller than the Ubiquity studio apartments.
Something cool and damp rested against his cheek. “You look like shit,” Tia said.
Izzy might have been offended by the comment if its direct nature wasn’t a relief. His tongue didn’t work. Whatever Holden drugged him with had sunk into his mouth, leaving everything feeling like cotton. Izzy focused on Tia. The cheer was gone from her eyes, and smudges of grease marred normally porcelain skin. She wasn’t in here of her own free will any more than he was.
“Your wrists.” She traced along his wounds. More of the strange damp feeling rolled over his arms, and a faint spark seeped into his skin. He knew the sensation. It was angelic power—or demonic in this case. Something Ronnie had given him so he could heal himself in the hospital. But this was weaker than he expected, even from Tia. Like melted ice cubes with traces of soda mixed in.
He fought to tug all the pieces of their situation together. None of what he’d seen and heard in the last twenty-four hours made sense on a larger scale. Why were he and Tia locked in a room? And why were her palms wet?
Izzy grabbed her hands, studying them. A thin metal band—nothing more than a bangle, but cutting into her skin—circled each wrist. “What are these?” he asked.
She tugged him toward a chair at the far end of the room. A whole two or three feet away. “Sit down before you pass out.”
He didn’t argue, but it was more to keep her happy. The tiny lick of power she’d fed him—he didn’t know if she’d done it on purpose—had refreshed him. He felt better than he had in weeks. He tucked the reaction away until he could get a better grip on the current situation. “What’s on your wrists?” he asked again.
She sank into a second chair, a soft growl escaping her throat. “I don’t know. It’s making me weak, and my wrists hurt. I can’t believe they caught me. There’s more of us in here, you know, and I’m going to kill those fucking assholes when I figure out what they did to me. Does anyone know where you are? This sucks, by the way. Do you feel like this all the time? All weak and helpless and stuff? I mean, sorry, but you know what I mean, and—”
“She’s a battery.” Holden’s voice came from nowhere and everywhere all at the same time.
Battery. Ronnie used the same word earlier. Rage roared inside Izzy.
Apparently the chairs weren’t the only things in the room. It was wired with a speaker, and Izzy assumed mics. “Cameras too?” He asked the empty air.
“In every cell.” Holden’s reply echoed off the exposed ceiling and concrete floor. “We have to keep an eye on our power sources and make sure they’re balanced. Too much drain kills them before we can find replacements. Too much slack and they break free. So the cameras let us personalize and adjust the restraints as needed.”
They were draining Tia of her energy—and she wasn’t the only one. Izzy wrapped his hands around hers, which didn’t seem to be drying. Whatever Holden and his buddies were doing focused all her energy in her hands. But there were no wires. Nothing binding her to an external source.
The heat of anger raced over his skin. There was also the question of why he was here, but Tia and any other agents were a bigger concern. Kill them before we can find replacements. Holden’s words echoed in Izzy’s head and clenched his chest until it ached. These people—his boyfriend among them—were destroying agents to assume their power.
“How many?” Izzy demanded.
“No.” Holden’s disembodied voice was sharp. “Once Abaddon is sure you’re not a threat, we’ll talk. Until then, sit tight.”
Izzy wasn’t sitting on his ass and hoping things just magically turned out all right. He surveyed the room again while his brain ticked off the possibilities. His fury made it difficult to sit still. So did the tiny amount of Tia’s power coursing through him. It set his fingers and toes on edge. He had to concentrate to keep his knee from bouncing.
“I tried the door.” Despair lined Tia’s voice. She held up her hands. “Whatever this is, it’s turned on just high enough I can’t do anything.”
They’d drain her eventually. Like any circuit, she wasn’t meant to be on non-stop. How long had Holden been at this? How many others had they done it to? And what were they doing with the results? More anxiety joined Izzy’s anger.
“Izzy?” Tia’s soft tone barely reached his ears.
Izzy glanced at her. Was this making her so weak she couldn’t talk?
She reached out a hand, palm up, gaze holding his.
She wanted to feed him more power. So she did know what she’d done. He couldn’t, though. She needed to hold onto her strength as long as possible. He gave her what he hoped was an imperceptible shake of his head.
“It’s okay,” she whispered.
Hesitation warred with his desire to do something, anything, besides just sit there. He lifted his hand to meet hers.
“Don’t touch her.” Holden shouted.
Tia screamed and crumpled, wrapping her arms around her knees and sliding to the floor. At the same time, the door slammed open, hitting the wall with enough force to match her torment.
An ear-splitting bang filled the room, and Tia’s yell spiked. A gunshot. They’d shot her. She grabbed her arm around the wound, but it wasn’t enough to stop the blood from spreading across her skin and oozing between her fingers. The bullet should have torn through her arm without leaving a mark.
Rage licked the edges of Izzy’s vision and he lunged toward her. He slammed into an invisible wall.
“Hands off.” Abaddon stood in the door next to the gunman. Izzy struggled, but whatever she was doing held him captive.
Holden stepped into the room next to her.
“You told me he wouldn’t be a problem,” she growled.
“You told me when to bring him in was my choice.”
“Do something for her.”Izzy roared and lunged again, not making it any farther before. His invisible prison appeared to be four sided and barely bigger than him.
Abaddon locked her gaze on Izzy. “We need him here now, not when you’d sweet talked him into a Sunday drive.”
Tia’s cries faded to soft whimpers. She knelt, one palm on the ground, the other clutching her arm, and her hair draped around her face.
Abaddon stepped closer, finally turning toward Holden. “And I told you not to put him with her.”
“Sorry, Abbie. I’ll remember that next time.” Holden’s upper lip pulled into a sneer.
Even if Izzy hadn’t seen her jaw tighten he knew the nickname would infuriate her. Some angels regarded their names with the highest reverence. A name was a gift, a purpose. And those few never shortened them. Abaddon was one of those. Why the hell was she deferring to Holden? What had happened to Gabriel wanting Izzy dead for his knowledge?
Who was pulling the strings here—angels or humans?
Holden nodded at the gunman, who holstered the gun. The shooter crossed the room and twisted Izzy’s hands behind his back, yanking a new set of plastic bindings tighter than the last one. He jerked Izzy toward the door, and Abaddon’s invisible wall fell away. Options raced through Izzy’s head. A kick to his captor’s shin, and the right twist of their legs, and the shooter’s head would meet the concrete.
Beyond being satisfying, the move wouldn’t get Izzy any thing else. Holden had a pistol trained on him, too, and Abaddon was an unknown. She brushed past, heading for Tia, and a new kind of fear raged inside.
“Don’t touch her,” Izzy shouted over his shoulder as they dragged him from the room.
Before the door closed, he swore he heard Abaddon mutter, “Shh, I’ve got you.”
He glanced at his captors, but if they’d heard what Abaddon said to Tia, it didn’t faze them. Izzy continued to assess his situation as they made their way down a short hall. He tested his bindings. The pain was gone. If he tugged a little harder, the ties would snap, thanks to Tia. If she’d saved him at the cost of her own life, he’d never forgive himself.
They were in a warehouse. A wide open room in the middle housed several machines that looked like giant tubs or cylinders—all chrome and reaching up three stories. They resembled unmarked batteries. He shook the disconcerting thought aside. Doors lined the hallway. Which were offices and which had more angels and demons?
Holden held one of the side doors open and gestured. Unlike the barren cell Izzy’d shared with Tia, a couch sat against one wall and a foosball table in the middle. There was even a small fridge at the opposite end of the room. How cozy.
Holden shut himself and Izzy off from the rest of the building, and nodded to the couch. “Have a seat.”
This was so much bullshit. If Izzy eliminated Holden here, could he get to the gunman and move through the facility before they retaliated and hurt their captives? Unlikely. Besides, he couldn’t fathom having to shoot anyone. Rage was one thing, but death... Being responsible for someone else’s demise? Even before he fell, he struggled with the idea of ending lives. Orders from Michael himself made Izzy queasy back then. Now that he understood firsthand how fragile mortal lives were, the decision was impossible.
“I’ll stand, thanks,” Izzy said flatly.
Holden dropped onto the sofa. “This is the one room not wired with cameras. We need a place where we can be us.”
Be us? The idea chilled Izzy. What did kidnappers and angel killers do to unwind? He didn’t want to know.
“Why are you still wearing those?” Holden asked.
He knew Izzy could snap his bonds. No reason to let on he was right. Let Holden be the one with unanswered suspicions for once. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”
The way Holden studied him, with compassion and sadness, dragged back memories of what they’d shared; the intensity, the promises, and apparently—lies. It pissed Izzy off even more. He couldn’t believe he’d be so completely taken in.
Holden shook his head, as if clearing away an errant thought. “I see it. The moment she touched you I saw it. The faint traces of her aura flickered off your skin. I know with what you have flowing through you right now, and it’s enough strength to do more than snap a plastic restraint. Why haven’t you broken free? Why haven’t you run?”
“How do you know that’s what you’re seeing?” Izzy wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of an explanation. He was furious at Holden for fooling him, and at himself for falling into it. Nausea rolled inside at the thought of what was happening to the angels and demons here.
Holden’s laugh sounded tired. “Everything I told you earlier is true. I see what’s happening to you right now, and I know it because I’ve watched it happen to everyone here.”
Izzy didn’t know what kind of technology allowed them to snap a couple bracelets on someone’s wrist and drain them of their power, but that was what was happening. The large devices on the main floor of the warehouse must be storing power from the agents held captive, and feeding it into mortal forms.
Except Izzy knew from experience that without a cherub, without a direct link back to the power source, a temporary charge wore off quickly. Holden’s behavior, the way he’d appeared miraculously better after the explosion, how drained he’d been in the apartment... It was all a result of him using agents as quick pick-me-ups, and then crashing after.
It also meant their entire conversation about why Tia glowed, his fear about Abaddon vanishing into thin air, was all an act. He already knew this shit. Lying asshole. Raging at Holden was easier than admitting how much his deception tore at Izzy.
“So, you’ve figured out the temporary juice doesn’t last. And you feel just as crappy once it’s gone as you did before you imbibed.” Izzy couldn’t keep the fury and disdain from his voice.
Holden glowered. “I’ll tell you why you didn’t run. You’re concerned about those things in the other rooms.” He said things with so much disdain and disgust, the word gnawed at Izzy’s soul.
“Of course I am.”
“You shouldn’t be.” The words were hard and edged, slicing through the air. “They have this gift, this power, and they hold it over us. They never even help us.”
“They help people every day. You remember the demon who broke into my house this morning and put out a fire? The one you have locked in a room back there? The one you had shot?” Izzy’s voice rose with each question.
“Who also destroyed your most prized possessions? Who was only at your apartment because your friends in high places have an idea what we’re up to?”
“I—” Izzy stalled as Ronnie’s words rushed back to him. This isn’t just about you. It’s about him. They had been watching Holden. She’d had a feeling he was involved and hadn’t told Izzy. Would he have listened even if she had? More frustration flowed through him, and the plastic restraints snapped without him intending to break them. His hands dropped by his sides, fists clenched.
“They don’t deserve your help, because they aren’t helping you.” Holden’s words were full of conviction.
He was wrong. Ubiquity hadn’t done anything, because they weren’t certain of their suspicions. Ronnie wasn’t letting this happen just to see the results. She couldn’t be. Could she?
Holden crossed the distance between them, stopping less than a foot away, his gaze boring into Izzy’s. “I’ve never lied about my feelings for you. I love you deeply, and I wanted to tell you all this without force. But things fell apart. You have information that will let us fight them off, instead of letting them destroy our cities. I want you by my side through this.”
A selfish part of Izzy wanted to wrap himself in the assurance. But he didn’t slip into it. “You lied about everything else. Why should your words mean anything? How long have you known who I was?”
“Since before I walked into your chapel for the first time. But my attraction to you, my feelings for you, are all real.” He raised a hand toward Izzy’s face.
“Don’t.” Izzy grabbed his wrist and pushed him back.
Holden jerked away. “You’re going to have to choose, and soon. If you do it today, it’s going to hurt a lot less.”
“Choose?”
“Whether you embrace that you’re human now, or continue to serve those who look down on you.”
Izzy couldn’t hold back his disbelief. “You’re going to declare war on heaven and hell? You?”
“Yes.” Holden’s smirk grew. “And you can fight by our side. Abbie? She has a cherub. You could take it. You could teach me how to take it. We could do so much more with their gift than they do. She was already given immortality. She needs more?”
Great. Now Holden had gone all movie super villain. Izzy could almost taste his disdain every time he mentioned Abaddon. Did she have any idea Holden had used her as much as he had Izzy? And why was she working for him? She was a powerful assassin; there was no way she’d been reduced to Mortal’s Errand Girl.
“You know this is bordering on sounding insane,” Izzy said.
Holden raised his brows. “Really? Why did you want all the books about prophets, then? What was your ultimate purpose? You wouldn’t have used me to find yourself a new link to immortality?”
The idea of using him for such a thing made Izzy furious. “I never—”
“Or, if you’re going to parry my question again, tell me this instead. Who was there for you when you were in the hospital? Even though some psychotic little immortal put you there—someone like Abaddon—I was the one who came to visit.”
Ronnie and Irdu were there whenever they could find time. “I’m not interested in extending my life at the cost of someone else’s existence or sanity.”
“Are you sure? You hate what you’ve become. Weak. Capable of feeling pain. Taking forever to heal.” His voice was passion mixed with madness. “You felt the rush when Tiamet touched you. You dove into the energy headfirst. You’d really surrender immortality because someone else, who wouldn’t think twice about destroying you, might be unhappy afterward?”
Izzy wouldn’t—couldn’t—betray those who had been by his side for eons. Holden was asking him to pick between immortality and loyalty. It was an easy decision. The answer should have flown from Izzy’s throat before Holden finished. He had one thing right though.
Izzy hated himself for thinking it. He was far more tempted by the possibilities than he should be. He liked the rush of Tia’s touch. The energy she’d shared. And he missed having that feeling full time.
That didn’t mean Izzy could fathom torturing and possibly killing anyone for power. Angel, demon, human—none of them deserved to suffer because he wanted the best of both worlds.
Before he could process an answer, a series of explosions tore through the air. Four concussions shook the ground. His eardrums rang in response, and he struggled to keep his balance as the floor rolled under him.