Eve of Warefare (4 page)

“You are not searching for anything. You are here to be found.”

“What?”

“There is some concern that there is a growing demand for angel blood in the Fallen community.”

“Oh my God.” She waited for the chastizing sting of the Mark, which acted like a behavioural-modification dog collar. When the burn didn’t come after taking the Lord’s name in vain, she found some of the fog in her brain lifting.
She’d lost the Mark.
“You want bait for a trap. That’s why you wanted to use Reed. Because he’s a
mal’akh.
When Alec offered himself, you figured an archangel is better than an angel. Especially an archangel that’s immediately recognizable.”

“Something like that,” the cherub agreed smoothly.

“So why the hell did you strip Alec of his powers?”

Zaphiel leaned back in the chair, making it creak. “Well, we cannot risk actually losing angel blood until we know what they want it for.”

“And you say you don’t want us dead.”

“No one will suspect that Cain does not have what they want,” he argued. “And the blatant nature of your presence here will make them overconfident.”

“Why can’t you leave this to Adrian?” she shot back. “This is his business, not ours. In case you hadn’t noticed, I have enough trouble keeping up with the Marked system.”

“It has been left to Adrian for centuries, but he refused to use a Sentinel as a lure, so it is left to me—” he smiled, “—and you. Sentinels prefer to use their dogs on the front line, but lycan blood is not what the Fallen want.”

“Lycan?” Eve looked at Alec. “Werewolf?”

“Some of the Fallen made a bargain to serve the Sentinels to regain their souls and avoid vampirism,” he explained. “They were turned into lycans and now they work like herding dogs to keep the other Fallen in line. What Zaphiel isn’t saying is that the Sentinels haven’t been reinforced since they arrived. They’re forbidden to reproduce, so their numbers have shrunk with every casualty. The lycans can breed, but they’re not immortal, so their numbers have grown very slowly. The Fallen, however, are immortal and they can spread vampirism to mortals so their numbers have exploded over time. Adrian can’t afford to risk any of his Sentinels as bait. That’s why he didn’t agree to Zaphiel’s plan.”

“And lycans are what?” she asked. “Werewolves of the angelic variety?”

“Right.”

Eve exhaled harshly. “You know . . . Whether you Celestials like to admit it or not, Heaven and Hell are just opposite sides of the same coin.”

His mouth curved. “Where do you think Sammael got ideas for creating Infernals? He saw what Jehovah was cranking out and got inspired. His versions have a few defects: his vamps are sensitive to sunlight and blessed objects, and his weres are forced to change forms at certain times of the month. But unlike the Fallen, the Infernals have souls . . . even if they
are
rotting.”

“Lucky them,” she muttered, turning her attention back to Zaphiel, a being she doubted had a soul himself.

The cherub gestured to a dagger that had appeared on the table. “This silver-plated blade will kill the vamp, if the situation gets that far.”

Eve just stared at him, incredulous. Alec’s hand on her shoulder tightened in warning, as if he knew just how close she was to lunging across the table and strangling Zaphiel.

“We should continue this conversation later,” Alec said tightly.

The cherub lifted one shoulder in an offhand shrug, then disappeared.

Four

Alec pulled out the chair beside Eve and sat.

“Are all angels sadists?” she muttered. She was flushed, bright-eyed and really pissed off.

And he was madly in love with her. Where he’d felt hollow the night before, he now felt too much. The surge of emotion made it damned hard to think clearly.

“You’re being generous,” he said gruffly.

She pivoted on her seat to face him head-on. He caught her face in his hands and sealed his mouth over hers. It took her the length of a heartbeat to catch on, but when she did, it was no holds barred. She tilted her head and licked deep, knowing just what he liked, responding to the cues he gave with passionate enthusiasm.

Groaning his approval, Alec pulled her closer, his mouth slanting feverishly over hers, his tongue stroking in the way he knew drove her crazy with lust.

They were made for each other. He believed that with absolute certainty.

Eve gripped his wrists and gave as good as she got. He was inflamed by the smell and feel of her, a completely new experience now that he had only his own mortal senses. As long as he’d known her, the Mark of Cain had been fogging things up with preternatural sensations.

“I love this,” he growled, tugging her into his lap. “I love you.”

The ache of longing in his chest made it hard to breathe. He’d been her first lover and he would damn well be her last.

His hands roamed, moving from her face to her breasts, cupping their weight and kneading until her back arched into his touch with a moan. He nipped her lower lip with his teeth, then soothed the sting with a soft stroke of his tongue, reminding her of what it felt like when his mouth was engaged in other, more private places. He loved to lick her all over, every silken inch, every curve and crevice. It was an activity he wanted to engage in right here. Right
now.

“Alec—” Eve tore away and hugged him hard, trapping his greedy hands between them so they couldn’t move.

“Don’t stop,” he said hoarsely, adjusting her so that she felt the press of his erection against her thigh.

“Aren’t you worried about what Zaphiel is up to?” she gasped.

“I’m worried he’s going to change his mind before I can fuck you. I need to feel you from the inside while we’re like this.” He looked at her from beneath heavy-lidded eyes. She was flushed and damp with perspiration, easily the most sensual-looking creature he’d ever seen. An exotically beautiful Asian goddess who couldn’t be more perfect for him. “If we miss this chance, I’m not sure I’d survive it.”

“I’m freaked that you’re not going to survive, period!” She made a frustrated noise. “You’re
mortal,
Alec. There are a gazillion Infernals dying to get a piece of you, and now you’ve got Fallen angels, too.”

He rocked his hips, letting her know the brain running the show was still the one between his legs. “I want
you
dying to get a piece of me.”

“Alec.” She straightened and moved away, denying him the pleasure of feeling her up. “I need you alive.”

Shoving a hand through his hair with a smothered curse, he pushed to his feet and walked into the adjacent kitchen. He went to the sink and splashed water on his face. “You don’t want me dead, but you won’t live with me either.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“It’s the same subject.” He shut off the faucet and leaned against the counter with his arms crossed. He let her see all the love and lust and longing that ate at him. “We’re in love with each other, Eve. We always have been. Why aren’t we together? Sharing a house, a bed, a
life!
”

She straightened her shirt, her gaze deliberately averted. She was running away without moving, but he was done giving her space. It was time to pick a path and stick with it.

“You know my dad,” she prevaricated, wincing because she knew she was copping out. “He’d kill me for living with a man before marriage.”

“So let’s get married.”

Eve’s face drained of colour. She shook her head and walked out of the room.

“Angel . . .”

She kept going, tossing her reply over her shoulder. “You’re not my favourite person right now.”

“You’re my favourite person,” he said calmly, following her. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“All fifteen minutes of it? If you’re lucky.”

“You could get lucky,” he drawled. “Right now.”

“You’re starting to sound like your brother,” she snapped. “Except his marriage proposal had some romantic trappings to it.”

He smiled. His off-the-cuff proposal had the desired effect of cracking her shell. That she was hurt made her a hypocrite, considering she was the one who’d broken off their relationship, but he wasn’t going to point that out.

“Them’s fightin’ words,” he said instead.

She gave a careless wave over her shoulder. “I don’t want to fight with you. That’s why I’m walking away.”

Navigating through the boxes in the living room, she reached the foyer and made a beeline for the stairs.

“Turn left,” he said.

Eve turned right towards the stairs.

“If you don’t turn left,” he warned, “I’ll toss you over my shoulder and haul you where I want you.”

Exhaling harshly, she turned left and entered the family room. She drew to an abrupt halt on the threshold. Alec deliberately crowded behind her, pressing the length of his body against her back.

He’d scoped out every room in the house before deciding on this one. He guessed it would be her favourite, décor-wise. An overstuffed sectional sofa in soft brown and accent pieces in red and gold made the space warm and inviting, which was the way he saw her. He’d added the fire in the fireplace and the white satin duvet on the floor in front of it, which he had covered in red rose petals. Their first night together had been on white satin, and when he had returned to her ten years later, he had used white satin again. He’d found the sheets in her linen closet, and knew she would have bought them with memories of him in mind. She had haunted him the same way. He fell in love with her the moment he saw her and every day that passed, even the ones when they’d been apart, he’d grown to love her more.

Eve stared at the makeshift bed in front of the fireplace and felt tears sting her eyes.

This is Alec
, she thought, swallowing past a lump in her throat. She saw now that his proposal in the kitchen had just been a way to bait her into revealing more than she wanted to. He now knew that she’d wanted him to ask her at least enough to get upset about the way he got around to doing it.

She should have known better. Alec wasn’t the kind of guy who jumped without looking, especially into something as monumental as marriage. He was a tender romantic, a man of grand gestures and thoughtful considerations. Reed was the one who had knee-jerk reactions to unexpected events and his idea of seduction was pinning a woman to the nearest flat surface and banging her to oblivion.

“I can nail you to a wall,” Alec whispered, nuzzling the spot below her ear. “Any time you want.”

She choked. “Stay out of my head.”

“I don’t need to be in there to know that you’ve been comparing me and Abel since you met him. You and I both know he’s too self-absorbed to be what you need, but being with him comes with less pressure and expectations. He doesn’t let anyone in, so there’s no chance of a real future, which means less risk for you.”

“Don’t analyse me.”

“I’m just saying what you thought the moment you saw that ring in your wineglass. I
was
in your head then.” He wrapped his arms around her and caught up her left hand. With a gentle tug, he removed Reed’s ring from her finger. “I’m a huge risk, because committing to me is forever and it means sticking with the Mark for the long haul.”

“Alec . . .” Turning in his embrace, she hugged him tightly and listened to his heartbeat. “We have so many fundamental differences between us. You’re devout, and I’m . . . not. You’re an archangel and I’m hoping to get out of this mess and have kids one day. I want baseball games and sleepovers and Girl Scout cookie sales and family vacations—”

“And I want you to have those things.” His warm breath ruffled the hair at her crown. “You know I do. But I can’t let you have those things with someone else, not when I know I’m the guy you want.”

“I can’t have those things with you. I can’t even have you.”

“That’s your fear talking.”

“I’m not—”

“You’re trembling,” he pointed out wryly, tightening his arms around her. “And I get why. You’re trying to distance yourself, so if something happens to me it hurts less.”

“Can you blame me? You have demons and angels of all persuasions gunning for you.”

“We’re not together now. Does that make it easier for you to deal with the risks of me being mortal?”

Eve’s fingers flexed restlessly into the hard muscles on either side of his spine.
Easier?
She didn’t want to let him out of her sight. “No.”

“I’ve regretted every minute that we haven’t been together. They’re all missed opportunities for happiness in a life you know is damned fucking hard.” His lips brushed across her temple. “After dealing with the shit we do all day, I want to come home to you and just be
me
for a few hours. Aren’t you tired of being a Mark 24/7 with nothing in your life to make you feel human? Don’t you want the freedom of sharing your life with someone who knows and loves you for who you are in your private moments?”

“I get it.” She’d been letting her life as a Mark overtake whatever was left of the mortal she’d been before. Her personal and professional lives were both being moulded around her goal to get her former life back, which – until now – had been only a distant possibility. She had a family: two parents, and a great sister and brother-in-law with two kids Eve loved madly. The thought of them growing old and dying while she lived for years afterwards was crushing. Just thinking of it made it hard to breathe. But was that selfish of her? Wouldn’t she be more useful to them as a protector than not?

Pulling back, Eve looked up at him. “You need to shelve the proposal for a bit.”

“Ouch.” He grinned, knowing her too well to take offence.

Still, she explained. “You’re mortal and until we deal with the safety issues around that, I can’t think about what you’re asking me.”

“I still know how to protect us. Taking away the power doesn’t take away the skill.”

Her thoughts rewound through the events of the day before, then rushed ahead. “Zaphiel took me with him to meet the head guy who’s in charge of cleaning up after the Fallen. Adrian. I just can’t see him missing a vampire in his own backyard, especially one living in a place like Arcadia Falls where the neighbours are unusually friendly. Adrian seemed too sharp, Alec. He’s definitely not someone I’d ever want to piss off.”

“You have to understand Zaphiel. He has a problem with the seraphim, so he likes to fuck with them, with or without a valid reason. He believes they’ve been given too much power, to the point that they’re encroaching on the cherubim.”

“What kind of power?”

“Like elevating a Mark to archangel.”

“You.” She began to pace, which helped her think. “You’re saying this is about the deal you struck with Sabrael for your promotion?”

Alec’s ascension to archangel had come at a price – he’d agreed to perform some unspecified future service for the seraph who had promoted him. That bargain gave Sabrael a tremendous advantage over everyone else in the angelic hierarchy: the seraph had at his command the greatest weapon since Satan.

Watching her, Alec nodded. “The only way to break free of my deal with Sabrael was to go higher up the food chain, but I had to be careful not to position myself as the sole target of retaliation.”

She understood. “If you went to God, Sabrael couldn’t take it out on the Almighty, so he’d have to vent his anger on you.”

“Exactly. When I heard that Zaphiel was coming to see Adrian about a recent Sentinel killing, I made sure Raguel knew that I didn’t want to be an archangel anymore. I figured he’d be only too happy to find a way to knock me down a rung or two and if Sabrael gets pissy, he can take it up with him.”

He was playing a dangerous game, pitting angels against each other to achieve his aims. And he was doing it for her. So he could love her again. She’d been so determined to keep distance between them, while Alec had been trying to find a way to close it . . . even at the cost of his own dreams of promotion.

She scrubbed at her tearing eyes, aware that she didn’t have time to be emotional if she was going to keep Alec alive. “So that’s your side of what’s going on – you wanted out of the advancement and your obligation to Sabrael, and you knew Gadara and Zaphiel would make it happen. But it’s looking like knocking you down isn’t enough for them. It makes sense now why Zaphiel made me drive him out to Adrian’s place. At the time, I figured he was just trying to mess with you or Reed by making me play chauffeur. Then this assignment came up and I reconsidered. Maybe he wanted me to know where Adrian lived or what he looked like. Maybe there was something he wanted me to see.”

“Maybe he wanted to insult Adrian by sending a Mark to do a job an elite seraph couldn’t manage.”