Alec deposited
her gently on the black leather sofa that rested against one wall, then moved
to the bathroom and the shower that waited there. He’d practically lived in
this office after his promotion. Knowing immediately that something was wrong
with him, he had been determined to keep away from Eve. But the thought of her
with Abel—or any another man—had been unbearable. He’d given in to the need to
see her. He didn’t have to be in love with her to want to keep her. Affection,
admiration, respect, and desire... some marriages had far less.
Want you..
He was so
exhausted that even Eve’s voice couldn’t rouse him, but he felt a soft humming
in his gut that signaled an eventual recharge. He had to get out of the tower
and away from the other Marks who made him so powerful.
What have I
done?
As the scorching
water beat down upon his head and the odor of sweat and sex dissipated in the
steam, Alec placed his hand against the cool tile and stared at the water
swirling down the drain. Just like his life—and his relationship with Eve.
The things he’d
said to her.
.
.
Now that he could think clearly, he
knew the full extent of what he had done. His intentions had been right, but
the approach was hideously wrong.
He thought of
Izzie’s exhaustion and his own stamina. He winced. While he didn’t like the
means, he was grateful the thing in him hadn’t used Eve that way.
Cleaned and
dressed in new clothes, Alec moved back into the main part of his office and
collected Izzie. He shifted to her apartment and tucked her into bed.
He loathed
himself in the brief moments that he hovered over her unmoving form. She had
started out a willing participant and he’d pleasured her well, but too much of
anything was too much. He’d been rougher with her than he had ever been with
another female in his life.
He was exhausted
when he shifted back to the hallway outside of Hank’s office. So tired that
knocking on the door was a chore, but an invitation was the only way to breach
the occultist’s inner sanctum. As it had earlier in the day when he’d come with
Eve and the tengu, the door opened without tangible assistance and Alec entered
the shadowy space.
“Took you long
enough,” Hank rasped, appearing out of the shadows in the familiar crone guise
before altering into a voluptuous and lovely red-haired female. Alec used to
wonder if the haggard witch guise was really a glamour at all, but later
decided it was just a quirk. A ritual Hank performed to get in the mood to work
his—or her—magic.
“Sorry?’ The
simple word was incapable of relating the full depth of Alec’s remorse.
Hank came to a
stop just a few inches away. “You look like shit?’
He felt like it,
too. “What have you got for me?”
“Some advice?’
Hank crossed her arms beneath an ample bosom. “End whatever sort of
relationship you have with Eve. You are weakening each other at a time when you
both need to be the strongest.”
“I’ve already
broken it off with her.”
“Ah.
. .“
Hank studied him with narrowed eyes. “You seem more
affected by the loss than you should be as an archangel.”
Alec almost
snapped back—his temper was still sharp—but the last couple of hours had
afforded him
just enough control to fight the impulse. “What do you know about the ascension
to archangel?”
“I know I’ve
always believed that archangels were born, not made.”
Hank turned and
gestured for Alec to follow. As they moved, a circle of light, like a
spotlight, moved with them. Alec got the sense that the room extended
infinitely beyond the shadows, which wasn’t possible according to the
limitations of mortal structures. But he’d learned to just accept that Hank was
a demon of unknown power and origins, and to appreciate the fact that the
Infernal was on his side and not on Sammael’s.
“Any guess as to
why more haven’t been created?” Alec asked.
“Because the
Seven have remained intact.”
“The Seven. You
say that as if it were an entity and not just a number.”
A small, rough-hewn
wooden table came into view and Hank settled daintily into a matching chair,
gesturing for Alec to do the same. In all of the years he’d worked with Hank,
this was the first time he’d ventured more than a few feet inside the
occultist’s domain. The air was hotter back here and smelled of sulfur.
Alec sat. The
tengu waddled out of the darkness carrying a tray, as docile as a well-trained
butler. He set a pitcher of amber-colored liquid and two crystal tumblers on
the table, then bowed and scampered away. The stench of his rotting soul
lingered.
“What the hell?”
Alec barked. “It stinks. And it’s... well behaved.”
“We’ll get to
that in a minute. Of the many other archangels, only Michael, Raphael, and
Gabriel have retained their foothold. Metatron, Ariel, Izidkiel... and all the
others, where are they now?”
“With God.”
“Because they
were not able to manage firms and a secular life as well as the others?” Hank
queried, referencing the widely spread belief. “With all the power and
knowledge at an archangel’s disposal, only
seven
were able to remain on
Earth? God didn’t want to create more in the hopes that they might be able to
handle it? And no
mal ‘akh
has proven capable of taking on the task in
the interim? Until you?”
Lifting his
glass, Alec sniffed the contents and asked, “What is this?”
“Iced chamomile
tea.”
Alec set the
glass back down. “I was promoted be- cause Raguel was taken.” And because he’d
promised Sabrael an as-yet-unknown favor, but that was a matter best kept
between him and Sabrael.
Hank filled her
glass to the rim and downed the contents in one audible gulp. “Which
effectively kept the number of archangels on earth at seven.”
“You think the
number is deliberate? Like a cap?”
“That, or the
change is so difficult it is the very rare
mal‘akh
who can manage it. I like you quite well, Cain, but
you and I both know that there are others who are better qualified for the
advancement than you are.”
Exhaling
harshly, Alec leaned into the seat despite its creaking protests. Hank had a generous
expense account and could easily afford to upgrade the furnishings, but
appearance was everything to the occultist. The rickety table and chairs were
meant to convey something that Alec didn’t yet grasp. And he couldn’t waste
time thinking about it now. “No one is more knowledgeable than I am about
saving Mark lives.”
Hank flicked a
lock of long red hair back over her shoulder. “Since when is that an
archangel’s purpose?”
The subtle
challenge caused Alec’s lips to pull back from his teeth in a snarl.
“Look at you’
Hank rasped. “Like a rabid dog on the edge of attack. Yet you found the will to
break up with Eve, when I’m certain that’s the last thing you wanted to do.
You’re not supposed to be able to love her.”
“It’s not the
same as before.”
“Diminished, but
not gone. Why isn’t it gone? Is it because you were in love when the ascension
happened?”
“I don’t need
more questions,” Alec bit out. “I need answers.”
Hank shrugged.
“I’m a scientist. It’s in my nature to question things.”
“Find the damn
answers! What the hell is wrong with me?”
“What’s wrong is
your belief that something is wrong.”
Alec’s fists
clenched. “I don’t like hitting women, but you’re pushing me”
The occultist
altered shape into a young girl of around six or seven years old, but spoke in
the eternally present gruff voice. “Every celestial believes that demons choose
to be evil. None will consider that we’re created the way we are. We couldn’t
see the world as you do, even if we wanted to. Just like you can’t see our
point of view.”
But Alec could
now. That was the problem. He saw the appeal. Worse, the urges he felt seemed
an inherent part of him, not an addition. “So you think I’m supposed to be this
way? That I’ve always been this way. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Perhaps you’re
fighting the change.” Hank picked up Alec’s untouched glass and downed the
contents. “Perhaps the ambitious part of your soul, the part that yearns to be
closer to God, is what’s rebelling in you. It’s becoming feral because it isn’t
getting what it wants.”
“Maybe it’s the
part of me that wants Eve,” he said, just to be contrary.
“Personally, I
think it might be that other, darker part of your soul asserting itself. That
part you ignore and everyone pretends doesn’t exist.”
Alec growled at Hank’s
perceptiveness, the sound more animal than angel. “It doesn’t exist. It’s a
myth.”
“A lie from an
archangel, instead of mere evasion. That has to be a first” Hank smiled.
“Regardless, my concern was for Eve and you’ve seen to that. Cain of Infamy can
take care of himself. I suggest you ask one of the other archangels what to
expect. Why come to an Infernal when Sarakiel is here to assist you?”
“Because I’m in
competition with the other archangels now.”
Similar to
children, archangels curried the favor of their Father. They competed with
their siblings in the hopes of outshining them. He was now a threat. They’d be
sabotaging themselves in order to help him. No archangel was that selfless.
Altering back
into the sex kitten form, Hank stood and gestured for Alec to follow suit.
“Come on. Let me show you why I called you down here. It might cheer you up.”
The soft trill
of an incoming text message pulled Reed from a doze. “Can I smash your phone?”
he murmured,
nuzzling his lips against the crown of Eve’s head. “I’ll buy you a new one.”
She wriggled
against his side, her body a warm weight he was reluctant to lose. “Some of us
have to communicate the hard way,” she teased. As she pushed up on one elbow,
the thick curtain of her hair tickled his chest.
He felt a shadow
of unease cross her mind, followed quickly by a stab of guilt. Rolling, he
pinned her beneath him and took her mouth in a hard, hot kiss. She softened,
her hands sliding into his hair to hold him close.
Pulling back, he
touched his nose to hers, somewhat bemused by his need to be tender. “If you
start thinking of this as a mistake, I’ll bend you over my knee and spank you.”
Eve laughed, but
her gaze was somber. “You’re going to have to be patient with me. I’m not in the
best shape to jump into something serious. I told you that before.”
“I’m not in any
shape to jump into anything. You know that. I have no idea what the hell I’m
doing.”
“Or if you’re
going to want to keep doing it” she added.
Reed winked. “I
definitely want to keep doing it.”
“Fine. We’ll
keep it sexual.”
“That’s not what
I meant.”
“Yes, it is.”
She wrapped a leg around his, rolled him back over, and kept on going. She
continued alone until she rolled to the edge of the mattress, then slid off of
it.
“Babe..”
She moved over
to the dresser and unplugged her cell phone from its charger. A few button
pushes later, she said, “Sara is looking for you.”
Closing his
eyes, he bit back a frustrated groan. He had a cell phone, but he kept it off 90
percent of the time for just this reason. Anyone he wanted to talk to could do
so without secular means. Everyone else could damn well wait until he got to
them.
“How bad is it
that she knew she’d find you with me?” As she talked, Eve’s voice grew distant.
Slitting his
eyes open, Reed caught her hot little ass disappearing into the bathroom.
Shamelessly naked, which he found very appealing.
She probably
contacted all of my Marks,
he replied
privately, knowing that calling after her would be heard by the two Marks in
the living room.