Angelic Surrender: The Kavanaugh Foundation, Book 2 Page 11

  Lucifer shook him like a bulldog shaking a rat. “Assist you with what?”

  Asheroth’s laughter echoed with madness. “You’ve been in power too long, Lucifer. It’s time for a new regime.”

  A fresh shudder rippled through Anjali’s body and into his own. Vassago cleared his throat. “Perhaps this line of questioning would be best continued back in Hell. There’s only so much a human should know.”

  Lucifer narrowed his eyes, but nodded. “Point made. You tend to your little human, and I’ll finish up with this snake.” His glamour enveloped the two of them, and the sound of fluttering wings signaled their departure.

  Alone at last with Anjali, he carefully loosened his hold on her. “Speak to me, my pet.”

  A weak chuckle answered him. “And say what?”

  He brushed her hair back from her face and examined it. Blood trickled from her busted lip. Her pulse throbbed in her neck. The smell of burnt flesh clung to her clothes, but as far as he could tell, it wasn’t from her. “Tell me what hurts.”

  “Nothing that won’t heal in a few days. Sooner if we call Jen.” She gave him a faint smile and traced his cheek with her cold fingertips. “Thank you for saving my life, even if it meant losing the vampire.”

  “Silly little demon hunter, don’t you know that you’re far more precious to me than killing a vampire?”

  A soft gasp escaped her lips just before he claimed them. He kissed her gently, avoiding her injury. The metallic taste of her blood tainted the sweetness of her mouth, and his heart wrenched. He pulled away. He’d have plenty of time to kiss her properly once she healed.

  “I love you, Will,” she whispered.

  A chill in the air chased away the warm glow that filled his veins from her confession. A blinding white light surrounded them. Her breath rattled out, and she went limp in his arms.

  “So sweet,” a cruel voice mocked. “Too bad she was on my list tonight.”

  The white light retreated, revealing Sraosha.

  “No!” He pressed his head against Anjali’s chest, searching for the sound of her heartbeat and finding only silence.

  The Angel of Death snickered. “I warned you not to fall in love with a human. She was supposed to die on impact, but somehow, you managed to save her.”

  “Then bring her back. She didn’t die.”

  The faint wisp of Anjali’s soul wafted up from her body, and Sraosha eagerly reached for it. Vassago encased his wings around it, preventing her from taking it.

  “I can’t change who’s on my list. Unlike some people, I have no problem following His orders. In fact, this is one soul I’m going to enjoy collecting.”

  “I won’t let you take her.” He clung to the still body in his arms and tried to channel his angelic fire into it, hoping to breathe the life back into her.

  “Don’t disrupt the natural order of things. Death comes to all humans. Best you let go of her now before she becomes too entrenched in your memory.” A ball of white angelic fire formed in her hands. “I have no problem ripping her soul from her in a way that will bring her pain in the afterlife if it means I complete my task.”

  Rage welled up inside him, erasing what little bit of angelic grace he’d clung to over the millennia. He embraced the darker side of his nature. He was a Fallen, and he would wage war on Heaven if that was what it took to keep Anjali by his side. The bright blue of his angelic fire darkened and pulsated with his anger. “I’ll rip you limb from limb first.”

  Sraosha’s grin widened. “Bring it. I’ve longed to see if the mighty Vassago is worthy of his legend.” Her hand cocked back, and the ball of her fire doubled in size.

  “Cease,” a voice rumbled behind them.

  Sraosha whirled around. Her jaw hung open when she saw the archangel standing behind her in all of his magnificence. Her voice shook as she said, “He’s refusing to give me her soul, Gabriel.”

  “She didn’t die as ordained,” Vassago countered.

  “Her injuries are enough to kill her, even if she didn’t splatter the pavement like she should have.” She pulled out a luminous scroll from inside her robe and unrolled it. “She’s on my list for tonight.”

  Gabriel arched one brow. “Show me where.”

  Sraosha scanned the names on the parchment. A snarl curled her upper lip. “She was on here, I swear.”

  Hope began to weave its way into Vassago’s heart. Could God have granted him this small miracle?

  “But is she now?” The archangel remained cool and aloof in light of her growing rage.

  She pointed at Vassago. “He must have altered my list for his own selfish purposes.”

  “Do you really think a Fallen has that kind of power?”

  “You cannot question me, Gabriel. I was following His orders. She was on my list.” Red blotches colored Sraosha’s normally pale cheeks.

  “But the course of events has been altered. She did not fall to her death.”

  Vassago held his breath. This almost sounded too good to be true. He glanced down at Anjali and saw her soul hovering over her body. Her lips were turning blue, even though traces of warmth still lingered to her flesh. He closed his eyes and prayed for the second time in as many days that she would remain with him.

  The Angel of Death’s voice rose an active higher. “He doesn’t change his mind once it’s been made up.”

  “But He has been known to show mercy from time to time.” A steely edge laced Gabriel’s voice as he added, “Do you dare challenge Him?”

  The archangel’s question reverberated down to Vassago’s soul, reminding him of when he’d stood in Sraosha’s place. He opened his eyes and tried to gauge her reaction. Did she have the courage to disobey His orders?

  Her fingers curled into fists, and her back stood ramrod straight. She glared at him and Anjali. “Why should he know mercy? He’s a Fallen.”

  A smile played on Gabriel’s lips. “Perhaps you should ask Him your question in person and see what His response is.”

  The color drained from her face. Her shoulders fell. With a flick of her wrist, she released her hold on Anjali’s soul. Vassago released the pent up air in his lungs as the whiff of smoke flowed back into the demon hunter’s body.

  A coarse cough shattered the silence, and Anjali gulped in a shaky breath. Her pulse, faint at first, intensified with each beat of her heart. The blue faded from her lips. His eyes stung with something he’d never experienced before—tears. He pulled her close to him and savored the small confirmations that she lived while he rocked her back and forth in his arms.

  Sraosha retreated from them with a look of pure disgust on her face. “Don’t get too attached to your little human, Vassago. Like I said, she’s mortal, and one day she’ll be on my list to stay.”

  She vanished with a burst of white light, leaving them alone with Gabriel. Vassago pulled his attention away from Anjali to study the archangel. “Why?”

  Gabriel shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I’m just the messenger. But let’s just say He’s free to change His mind.” He faded as his glamour washed over him, and the air stirred as he took flight.

  “Will, what happened?”

  “Nothing to worry about, my pet,” he replied and stroked her silky hair. “Heaven interfered.”

  “You’ll have to explain it all to me later.”

  The sounds of footsteps pounding up the stairs drew his attention from her. Vassago grabbed his sword and tensed.

  Logan burst onto the rooftop and stepped dead in his tracks when he saw them. His hands bunched up into fists. “What did you do to her?”

  Will laughed. “A vampire did this, not me.”

  Anjali lifted her head and forced a smile for her friend. “I’ll live.” Then she turned to him. “Which way did she go?”

  The stench of death hung in the air from the east. “Toward Central Park.”

  “She was here, and you let her get away?”

  The disbelief on the vampire hunter’s voice sent a surge of fury through Vass
ago’s veins. How dare Logan question him? “She’s not a normal vampire. Any time you want to take on her, a Fallen and a demon, please feel free to do so.”

  Anjali’s hand grazed his shoulder, drawing his attention from Logan back to her. “Please, don’t start anything with him, Logan. He could either save me or kill the vampire.”

  Logan’s expression softened, and his fingers relaxed. “You look like crap, Anjali. What did she do to you?”

  Vassago’s heart wrenched when he realized how close he’d came to losing her once again. He lifted her into his arms, noticing for the first time the amulet in her other hand. He didn’t miss the way Logan’s eyes grew wide as he unfurled his wings. “I want to have her wounds tended to. Tell me where we can find Jen.”

  She whispered an address and closed her eyes. He watched the rise and fall of her chest for a few seconds before flexed his wings and launched into the air, leaving a stunned Logan alone on the rooftop. It amazed him how such a simple thing like the warm brush of her breath against his skin could stir such strong emotions in him. Her life and her love were two things he would cherish as long as he was allowed to enjoy them.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Anjali tried to conceal the trembling of her hands by sitting on them. Facing three of the Foundation’s Board members was nerve-wracking at best, and having them summon her to their office usually meant something more serious than a congratulations on a job well done.

  Nigel offered her a small smile. She welcomed it over Wade Pemberley’s emotionless stare and Morwen’s constant pacing.

  “Tell us again what happened,” the Head Witch ordered, pausing long enough to fix her bright blue eyes on Anjali.

  “I told you, that night was kind of fuzzy. I remember hearing that a witch summoned a Fallen to help open the portals to Hell. Together, they freed the Skinwalkers.”

  Wade nodded and rubbed his chin. “What do you remember about this witch?”

  “I know this sounds crazy, but I swear she was a Vampire. The way she moved, the way she talked about tasting my blood. But she also used magic in a way that puts me to shame.”

  Nigel and Morwen exchanged worried glances, and the Head Witch resumed pacing.

  “Did you happen to catch her name?” Wade asked. As head of the Vampire Hunters, he wanted to gather as much information as he could. And rightly so. This was his area of expertise, not hers. And from what Logan had shared, her trail had gone cold since that night. He suspected she’d left the city.

  “I think the Fallen called her Colette.”

  A hiss filled the room, and Morwen’s flawless porcelain skin turned three shades paler. “She should be dead.”

  Wade turned to her. “Well, technically, she is.”

  “Let’s not bother with semantics,” Nigel said with a wave of his hand. His crisp English accent made the conversation sound like it was all part of a drawing room comedy. “The point is, Anjali destroyed the demons and managed to grab the Star of Krukstahl. They won’t be trying this again without it.”

  So, the amulet had a name. When she’d awoken in her bed the next afternoon, Will dangled it front of her, asking what it was and saying she refused to let go of it until Jen healed her. The powerful magic the blue stone in the center generated almost made her reluctant to hand it over to the Foundation, but in the end, the less contact she had with it, the better. Power like that could prove intoxicating, and a mediocre witch like her had no business wielding it.

  “It still bothers me.” Morwen sank into a nearby chair, her face suddenly appearing years older as worry lines creased her forehead. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think they had something more sinister in the works.”

  “That’s something we can discuss later.” Nigel rubbed the top of his cane. “Anything else to add?”

  As if the fact I met Lucifer in person and was technically dead for a few minutes weren’t enough? “I think I included everything in my report.”

  The Head Witch watched her with such intensity, the hair on the back of Anjali’s neck stood on end. The corners of her mouth twitched. “You’re released from your contract to Vassago, then.”

  Anjali’s heart skipped a beat. Did Morwen know more than she let on? Did Jen or Logan rat on her? “Good to know.”

  Wade stood. “I’ll send a message to all the hunters and give them an updated description of Colette, including a warning that she isn’t your standard bloodsucker.”

  Morwen nodded and followed him to the door. “Let me provide you with some more information on her.”

  Nigel smiled at her again after the other two left. “It sounds like you had quite an adventure, Anjali.”

  “You could say that.” She rose from her chair. “I have one question, though, that no one’s answered. Why did my skin burn her when she tried to bite me?”

  “Ah, that.” His cane rocked back and forth in his hands. “Morwen and I have been discussing this, and two theories came to mind. The first is that somehow, your unique abilities shielded you from her, but I think the more obvious reason is that you’ve been claimed by an angel. Even though he’s a Fallen, he can still offer you protection from some things.”

  Her gasp slipped out before she could stop it. How much did they know about her and Will? “Nigel, I have no idea—I mean—” Her tongue refused to work properly.

  He chuckled and pointed his cane at her like a wagging finger. “You’ll find not everything in this world is black and white, my dear, and perhaps that is its saving grace. Lucky for you, you’re not held to the same standards as the vampire hunters.” He stood with a grunt. “Enjoy it while you can. There are some of us that would be envious to have the attention of an angel.”

  She mirrored his grin. “I plan on it.”

  When she stepped out of the elevator into the lobby, the same town car with the dark tinted windows that had brought her here waited. She stepped inside and didn’t bother telling the driver where to take her. The Foundation’s driver already knew her address. The trip uptown passed in silence, leaving her to reflect on her conversation with the Board members. Morwen was right. Something sinister was brewing, but she didn’t know what.

  She opened the door to her apartment, and the sensation of a dozen spiders crawling up her spine hit her. Will lay draped over the couch, eating BBQ potato chips and scattering crumbs all over her floor.

  “How did it go, my pet?”

  She marched over to him and yanked the bag from his hands. “Do you see the mess you’ve made? I need to grab the vacuum.”

  He caught her arm as she turned and pulled her on top of him. “Is that any way to say hello to me?”

  “Will, you know how much I hate a mess, and you—”

  He silenced with her kiss that went straight to her toes. His tongue teased hers until she relaxed and forgot all about the crunchy crumbs that littered the rug. If Fallen Angels were meant to tempt humans, he had it down to an art.

  He ended the kiss and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I would suggest taking this to the bedroom, but I know how much you hate a mess.”

  The sexy note in his voice made her sex clench, and her panties grew damp. A wicked thought entered her mind. She reached above his head for the drawer of the end table and fumbled through its contents. “Who says we have to be messy?”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think we’ve managed to be neat yet.”

  Her fingers curled around the smooth, cool metal of the pair of handcuffs she’d bought the day before, and her grin widened. She slid one hand down his arm. “I have an idea.”

  He watched her with hooded eyes until she snapped the cuff around one wrist. When he tried to rise, she pounced on him and captured the other hand. The handcuffs looped around the wrought iron legs of the end table, pinning him to the couch. “Why, you little minx.”

  She straddled his lap, grinding her hips against the hard ridge that strained against the zipper of his jeans. “How do you like being tied up?”

  The corded muscles in
his arms slackened. “It all depends on what you do to me.”

  “Whatever I want to do to you.” She pulled his shirt up, exposing his chiseled abs. She bent over and flicked her tongue over them. His salty, male taste went straight to head, and she craved more of it.

  A moan rose from his throat as she went lower, tracing the top of his jeans with her mouth. “What kind of monster have I created?”

  “One who can’t get enough of you.” She lifted her head and pulled her shirt off, followed by her bra. His eyes widened at the sight of her breasts, and the end table jerked off the floor. “Would you like a taste?”

  He licked his lips, and the red glow simmered in his dark eyes. “Very much so.”

  She tipped forward, and he expertly caught one of her breasts in his mouth. His teeth grazed her aching nipple. A jolt of pleasure raced through her, causing her to inhale sharply. Even with his hands tied, he knew how to take her to the edge of an orgasm.

  He released her breast and flicked his tongue over the taut peak. “Why are you tormenting me like this?”

  “Payback.” She gave him her best naughty grin and began removing his jeans. “Besides, this way, we don’t have to remake the bed.”

  “You’re such a devious woman. When I get my hands free, I’m going to—”

  His threat halted when she eagerly took him in her mouth. The metal chain of the handcuffs rattled against the legs of the table. His cock filled her mouth with its throbbing heat. He arched his hips so she could take him deeper. She almost swore she could smell his desire growing with each bob of her head. She’d surrendered to him before. Now it was her turn to make him beg.

  When she glanced up, his face grew tight. “Please, my pet, as much as I’m enjoying your hot little mouth, I’d much prefer something else.”

  She gave him one final lick along the underside of his shaft, lapping up the pearl of liquid that gathered on the head. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Why don’t you take your pants off and find out?”

  She stood and shimmied out of the rest of her clothes. His cock twitched as he watched her, and his breath grew shallow. Behind him, his wings strained against the confines of his shirt. She started to unbutton it. “Shall I remove this first?”