Disease.
Death.
Deceit.
Devastation.
Filth, humanity, and greed littered the nightclub as obnoxious beats repeated overhead. The humans would call it music. Caro called it hell.
Why would anyone enjoy this?
At least from her perch at the back of the room, it didn’t rattle her teeth, unlike her experience on the dance floor. How those beings tolerated it, she had no idea. She preferred peace and quiet. Tranquility.
Not even ten minutes and she missed home already.
She would find Osiris, deliver the edict, and leave.
The poisoned one, as her kind called him, had lived among the humans too long and adopted his own level of greed. First, he created a bloodline of life-sucking abominations who referred to themselves as Ichorians, and then they went on to procreate with humans to create Hydraians.
Blasphemy.
She would slaughter them all if given the chance, but her superiors felt it was Osiris’s responsibility to clean up his own mess.
Fine.
Caro crossed her jean-clad legs and tapped her foot impatiently.
Her notes stated Osiris owned this pitiful establishment, and the abundance of Ichorians slithering about confirmed it. They couldn’t see or sense her as she sat in a cloud of invisibility—a trait that suited this mission. Except her quarry remained hidden, which defeated the entire purpose of being here.
The cushion beneath her shifted as someone sat far too close for her liking. She considered appearing just to tell him to fuzz off, but then he looked directly at her with bright green eyes.
“Not every day a Seraphim graces us with her regal presence,” he murmured, his gaze assessing.
Something akin to shock swept over her. Or she suspected that was it. Emotions belonged to humans.
He stretched an arm along the back of the couch, grazing her shoulder in the process. “To what do we owe the honor, Your Highness?”
“How are you doing that?” she demanded after his fingers brushed her again.
“What are you doing here?” he countered.
“I don’t believe that’s any of your business.”
“Oh, on that we disagree.” He leaned into her personal space. “This is my territory, and you certainly don’t belong here.”
Well, that last bit was a reasonably intelligent deduction. As for the former… “How does one own a territory? Or are you referring to this dreadful place?”
His laugh vibrated their shared seat, and she found the sound oddly pleasant. Her kind did not revel in amusement often, if ever, but humans did. Except this being beside her did not possess a mortal soul, yet he didn’t appear to be Ichorian or Hydraian either. Because he saw her and touched her.
She stopped misting since it only wasted energy in his presence. “What are you?” she asked while cataloging his features. Thick brown hair, olive skin, and over six feet tall with a muscular stature that indicated he led a healthy lifestyle. His symmetrical face and square jaw would be considered handsome by those who appreciated appearance. And he had dimples when he smiled, which he was not doing now.
“Tell me why you’re here,” he said, his voice underlined with power.
The rune on her lower back flared as she responded. “I have a message for Osiris.” Her eyes widened. “How—”
“Tell me the message,” he interjected with that same underlying authority.
Her mouth slammed shut, only to reopen as the words were dragged from her throat of their own accord.
“The High Council of Seraph hereby issues the following blood edict to Osiris: Your immoral activities of late are in direct violation with your purpose on this plane. Using your gift for the afterlife to poison the blood of humanity has earned you an additional five millennia of solitude. Leniency may be granted when, and only when, you rid Earth of your abominations. Failure to do so may yield further actions from the council.”
Her hand flew up to cover her mouth, not that it mattered now. That was the entirety of the message, and she’d just delivered it to the wrong being.
“Interesting,” he mused. “Well, you can’t tell him that unless you court death.” He looked her over. “And I certainly hope that’s not the case, gorgeous.” He extended his hand. “I’m Sethios.”
She stared at the masculine fingers as they wiggled tauntingly before her. The act of shaking hands was very human. She ignored his request.
“What are you?” Her demand sounded more like a mumble behind her palm, and probably looked ridiculous.
He grinned. “Tell me your name, and I’ll answer.”
A bizarre agreement, but one she wasn’t averse to. She lowered her hand from her mouth to her lap as he dropped his own to his side. His opposite limb remained along the back of the couch where he continued to brush his fingertips against her shoulder. An odd gesture, to be sure, but not unpleasant.
“Caro,” she said. “Now tell me what you are.”
“Caro,” he repeated. She rather liked the way it sounded from his lips. “I don’t have a type classification, or at least not one that I’ve been told. What do you call the child of a Seraphim and a human?”
“An impossibility,” she replied immediately. “Seraphim only breed with other Seraphim, and only when a progeny is required. Why would one breed with a lowly species?”
“For pleasure?” he suggested.
“Of what kind?”
He seemed to be gaping at her now. “The sexual kind.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, ‘why?’ ” His tone held a note of incredulity that confused her. The answer should be obvious.
“Why would one engage in an act for sexual pleasure? It holds no intrinsic value, nor does it bear credence. Reproduction serves a solitary purpose, and a Seraphim would not choose to breed with a human. The progeny would be most unfruitful.”
He laughed again, sending a tingle down her spine.
Oh, that really is a lovely sound.
“Well, then I suppose that’s my breed. Unfruitful. Thanks for clearing that up, angel.”
“Seraphim,” she corrected. “And you’re welcome, though I’m unclear as to what I’ve improved.”
“Wow.” He shook his head, still laughing. “You’re proving all the rumors true.”
She blinked. “Rumors?”
“About Seraphim,” he explained. At her blank look, he added, “That you’re all coldhearted, stoic beings with no thought or care for humanity.”
Her brow creased. She didn’t much like that definition of her kind. “I prefer intellectual, otherworldly beings with a practical view of the world.”
“Sure, sweetheart. Whatever makes you feel better.”
An odd phrase. “It is not about feelings.”
“Because you’re all unfeeling beings.” He nodded. “Then the rumors are true.”
Her frown deepened. He clearly required more information. “Your generalization is inaccurate. There are those of my kind who do, in fact, embrace emotion out of necessity.” Only because their powers required it, of course. Most Seraphim with powers linked to humanity preferred life among the mortals as well. Caro, however, did not.
“And are you one of them?”
“No.”
“Hmm. I see.” He lifted his opposite hand and snapped his fingers.
A short Ichorian with spiky blonde hair sauntered over with a hopeful expression. “Yes, Sire?”
“Two bourbons, no ice.”
She bowed. “Of course, Sire.”
He refocused on Caro. “What am I going to do with you?” His green eyes danced over her fitted blouse and jeans, causing an uncomfortable sensation to stir over her skin. It reminded her of bathing in the sunlight for too long.
“I’m not sure I follow. What would you like to do?” Because she didn’t intend to stay long, even though his mannerisms fascinated her. Like that thumb tracing her upper arm. Why did he do that? And more importantly, why didn’t she stop him?
“Isn’t that the question of the night,” he murmured, his gaze darkening to a forest green. “Several ideas come to mind.”
“Yes?” she prompted, waiting.
But as his mouth opened, the mood in the club shifted.
She didn’t sense him so much as know Osiris was here. From the reverent gazes shifting throughout the room, she found his entrance point. A set of spiral stairs that led to a platform above. Of course. She hadn’t thought to look there.
“Stay seated,” Sethios demanded beside her. “Do not speak unless I tell you to, and do not mist.”
She bristled at his tone and his commands. Her mouth opened to give him a piece of her mind, but no sound escaped.
What is this sorcery?
No matter. She would deliver her message and be done with all of this. Except she couldn’t stand.
His words trickled through her thoughts as understanding dawned.
He’d compelled her again, just as he had when he forced her responses earlier.
How incredibly rude.
The blonde Ichorian started over with the drinks, but Sethios waved her off. Also rude. Not that she had wanted a drink, but his behavior required modification.
You will regret silencing me.
She displayed that thought with a glower that elicited a chuckle from him. “That look I’ll allow.”
Oh, when this spell wore off, she would kick his ass. Caro might not be the strongest Seraphim in existence, but her strength should outmatch his. Her bloodline of two immortals marked herself as superior to his tainted birthright.
“Sethios,” a cultured voice murmured, drawing her companion’s gaze upward to Osiris. “I thought you were leaving.”
“I thought so too,” Sethios replied.
Caro sighed in relief, happy to finally be in the presence of the one who could help her complete this distasteful mission. Except her mouth refused to cooperate again.
“What has you so distracted?” Osiris mused, his gaze trailing over Caro.
No sign of recognition.
Of course, that was the point. The council sent her because he wouldn’t know her, thus making it easier to deliver her message. Osiris had a tendency of avoiding the Seraphim who visited Earth, but he couldn’t avoid someone with an unknown identity.
Only one problem. She still wasn’t able speak.
Well, hell. This wasn’t going as expected at all.
Sethios drew his fingers up and down her arms, creating a flurry of gooseflesh in their wake. She shouldn’t enjoy that nearly as much as she did, but something about the touch felt right. And she wanted him to do it again.
More sorcery?
“Pretty, isn’t she?” Sethios murmured.
“Indeed,” Osiris replied. “Where did you find her?”
“Wandering in places she doesn’t belong.” Sethios continued that stroking while he spoke, dividing her focus between his words and the bizarre heat he was stirring inside her. She thought it might be anger at his high-handed behavior. Or something else.
Osiris twined a strand of her light blonde hair around his finger and yanked sharply. Her lips parted with an Ow that didn’t grace the air.
Because Sethios had silenced her.
Bastard.
Her stay on Earth would now extend to include killing him. Surely the council would approve.
Another tug brought tears to her eyes and a smile to Osiris’s face. “You’ve silenced her.”
Sethios merely shrugged. “I may let her scream later, but I’m enjoying her obedience for now.”
We’ll see about that, she seethed.
Osiris brushed the hair-wrapped finger over her cheek and chin before letting her go. He smiled fondly at Sethios. “Well done, Son.”
“Thank you, Father,” her companion replied.
Caro’s gaze widened with the exchange.
Father and son?
She knew about the Ichorians and the Hydraians, but nothing about the Seraphim procreating. But as she studied the pair, she saw the obvious likeness. Osiris possessed an ancient air that Sethios lacked, but otherwise, they resembled twins with their matching green eyes, olive skin, and dark brown eyebrows. They even looked the same mortal age of thirty or so, though Sethios’s thick hair gave him a younger appeal than his bald father.
Oh, the council would be furious.
Sethios was a true abomination. Even worse than the offense of poisoning humanity with a tainted bloodline.
A Seraphim assassin would be sent here to destroy him.
Both beings studied her with amused expressions.
The horror they read from her features was likely misinterpreted to mean something entirely different. For she wasn’t afraid of them but disgusted by the entire situation.
“Well, it appears you have an eventful evening ahead.” Osiris winked at her before nodding to his son. “Enjoy.”
“I intend to,” Sethios murmured, hugging her closer to his sturdy chest.
She cringed, waiting for the repulsion to hit her, but something decidedly other graced her instead. Her heart fluttered, causing her breath to shorten.
An additional power? she wondered. How curious.
It worsened as he pressed his lips to her neck.
Did he feel her quickening pulse?
“Good night, Son,” Osiris murmured.
“Night,” Sethios replied from her throat. He scraped his teeth along her skin, sending more of those goose pebbles down her arms. She watched helplessly as her quarry sauntered off, hands in his pockets, with no idea as to why she had come in the first place.
The council would be displeased. Her mission was one of import and meant to be short, but the abomination beside her had ruined everything.
And why was he nibbling her neck like that? It tingled.
She squirmed, but he held her in place with the arm around her shoulder and a hand on her leg. The show of power stirred something deep inside. Not fear, because he didn’t appear to mean her harm, but something wicked.
What is this plane doing to me?
“So Seraphim do react to pleasure after all,” he whispered. “Fascinating.”
He stood and held out his hand. “Walk with me. No fighting or talking, and no going ethereal on me.”
She hated that her legs complied.
Whenever this spell wore off, he would be in a world of hurt.
Because she would kill him.
Slowly.
After she gagged him.
