Stricken (The War Scrolls Book 1) (13 page)

“Aubrey?”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. The pulse in her throat fluttered.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I—” She shook her head, squeezing her eyes closed. “Nothing.”

“I frightened you.”

She didn’t respond.

“Aubrey?”

“I didn’t realize you’d followed me. It’s silly. I’m sorry.”

She looked so vulnerable pressed up against the back of the building with her eyes closed tight. Killian couldn’t resist stepping a little closer to her. He meant to comfort, to reassure, but his body brushed hers, sending a jolt through him.

He froze.

Her eyes flew open, her gaze locking on his.

For long moments, neither moved. Killian couldn’t. The way her body felt against his made him ache from head to toe to drag her closer.

“I want to kiss you,” he murmured before he could stop himself.

Her lips parted slightly, her expression soft, dazed.

She nodded, her sweet breath washing across his face.

He leaned forward, his eyes not leaving her face.

She didn’t pull away or try to stop him when he brushed his lips across her cheek and then down to the corner of her mouth. She moaned in the back of her throat, the sound half yes, half no.

He pressed his lips to hers, letting the kitten go so he could get closer to her. Her little body molded to his, her breasts soft against his chest. Her heart beat frantically, pounding a rhythm he felt on his overheated skin.

She sighed into his mouth, her lips parting farther for him. He took the invitation without thought, dipping his tongue into her mouth. The taste of her sent another electric jolt through him.

He groaned, the thin veneer of civility and control he wore like a cloak shredding.

Her tongue touched his…tentative, questioning.

A rough growl slipped from his lips, torn from someplace deep inside. The place inside of him desperate to feel her, man to woman. That half-Fallen, half-human place that demanded he take the best of both worlds. The passion one human had for another, and the deep, abiding love that bound Fallen mates together for centuries. He’d never had either, and Aubrey made him crave both in turns.

He dug his fingers into the brick above her head to keep his hands off her, trying to let her lead, to let her have control and tell him how much he could take. Her movements were slow, unschooled, and somehow exactly what he needed.

Sweet Heaven, what was this beautiful, brave girl doing to him?

His head swam, blood pumping through his veins in a wild rush.

“Killian,” she whispered against his lips, pressing herself more fully into him.

Her tongue darted from her mouth and slipped between his lips. She slid her hands up his stomach and then around his neck, pulling him closer. Another low moan tumbled from her.

The sensual sound shredded the last of Killian’s control.

If he had to die, he wanted to be with her, man to woman, just once.

A last request.

“Killian, please…”

He tore away from her abruptly, wrenching his mouth from hers and stepping back. Spinning away, he bowed his head, his breath coming in harsh pants. He heard her cry out from behind him but didn’t turn to face her.

He drew deep, ragged breaths, trying to find the willpower to stop this madness now, before it was too late. He gritted his teeth until they ached. His fingers did the same as he clenched them tightly into fists on his thighs. It didn’t help. Nothing did. He was already in too far. Bonding to her as one Fallen bonded to another. It shouldn’t have been possible. She was human, and he was Nephilim…but it was happening even so. He couldn’t deny it any longer or pretend it wasn’t happening. Somehow, they were bonding.

“Killian?” she called, her voice confused and frightened.

“Give me a minute,” he said, trying to shove everything down and regain control. To find a shred of honor or the will to step from the tracks before a runaway train mowed him down and took Aubrey with him.

She deserved better.

He had nothing to offer her. Nothing but pain and loss and dishonor.

And she’d had enough of all three already.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t seem to convince himself that it mattered.

***

Aubrey walked to the car on wooden legs. She kept her gaze locked on Zee, unable to face Killian. Her lips tingled from his kiss, and blood still pumped through her veins in a heated rush. She didn’t want to think about that, though. She didn’t want to think at all, in fact.

But her mind raced anyway, swirling through the last few minutes in dizzying flickers. She felt numb and on fire at once. Her thoughts snagged on the way Killian had looked at her with desire stamped across his face. His blue eyes had burned into hers, searing her to her soul.

Killian had kissed her. And she’d let him.

No, she hadn’t let him.

She’d
wanted
his kiss. And she’d been certain he wanted to kiss her just as much.

So why had he pulled away so abruptly, refusing to even look at her? Guilt? Shame? Halflings were an embarrassment to the Fallen, he’d said, a reminder of their weakness. Is that how he saw her? As a weakness? An embarrassment?

She settled into the car, aching and confused.

Zee scrambled up her arm to perch on her shoulder. He purred in her ear, content.

At least one of them felt decent. She certainly didn’t.

Rejection didn’t sting, it flat-out hurt.

Killian replaced the gas cap before climbing in beside her.

She wanted to demand an explanation for his behavior but didn’t have the courage to ask him outright what had gone wrong. She simply fastened her seat belt and dug her hands into the seat instead, taking deep, even breaths.

His arm bumped hers as he put the car in gear.

“Sorry,” he muttered, jerking away as if burned.

She swallowed convulsively.

The engine purred as Killian gunned it. He sat rigidly, his big hands clenched around the steering wheel as he sped out onto the road. He didn’t look at her.

That hurt too.

The silence between them stretched on and on, deafening in its intensity. For an hour, the soft music floating from the speakers, Zee’s little purrs, and the louder purr of the engine were the only sounds in the car. Aubrey stared out the passenger-side window as mile after mile of cornfields blurred by, her throat burning.

Killian’s attraction to her shamed him.

She blinked rapidly to keep tears from welling in her eyes.

“Aubrey,” Killian said, her name little more than a sigh on his lips.

“Please don’t,” she whispered, not wanting to hear whatever platitude he meant to give her.

“Aubrey, I—”

“Forget it, Killian,” she snapped, desperate to keep him from talking. If he did, she’d cry. And she’d already shed far too many tears since meeting him. “Please forget it.”

He hunched his shoulders, bowing his head.

Aubrey relaxed, relieved he wasn’t going to regale her with a list of reasons or apologies that would only serve to tell her how stupid she’d been to let him get that close in the first place. She closed her eyes and settled back against the seat, trying to find the resolve to get angry, to protect herself.

“I’m not sure I can forget,” Killian whispered.

She didn’t think she could, either.

Didn’t matter though, did it?

She’d do this thing with him, help him figure out if her dad had studied
La Morte Nera
, and then she’d slip away. Back to the life she’d made for herself and the little kids who needed her. And when the virus caught up to Killian, she would never know.

And if it caught her first?

Well, he wouldn’t know it, either.

Chapter Twelve

Killian and Aubrey drove into Madison, Wisconsin, a few minutes after seven. Their silence on the journey was oppressive to him. He wanted to comfort her but didn’t know where to even begin wiping the fragile, shattered look from her face. Her hands shook around her kitten, and her little body trembled with fear. He ached to reach out to her and erase at least part of her hurt. The part he’d caused.

“Aubrey—”

She turned away from him, her dark hair hanging like a curtain between them.

Killian cursed but didn’t try to speak a second time. He’d hurt her today, and that shamed him. She had enough weighing on her mind already. He hated that his actions had made this day worse for her in any way. She deserved better than that, but she refused to let him say as much or to explain anything.

All afternoon, she’d ignored him.

They checked into the room Dom and Abriel had reserved for her, still not speaking. In fact, the only conversation they’d had all afternoon was brief and focused entirely on the necessities. Did she want anything to eat? Should they stop to let Zee out? They needed gas; did she need anything?

She answered his questions in monosyllables, her gaze focused anywhere but on him.

Her feet dragged as she trailed along behind him to the room. He doubted she wanted to step inside any more than he did. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a choice. Killian didn’t know if she would be safe alone or if she’d try to flee. As much as she didn’t like him at the moment, her safety was still his responsibility. And he wouldn’t force that task on Abriel or Dom. He wouldn’t have been able to do so even had she demanded it of him. Keeping her safe was his job now…it had been since the moment he’d started bonding with her.

He shoved the keycard in the slot and then pushed the faded red door open, stepping aside for her to enter. She did so slowly, glancing around the simple room. Her gaze lingered on the one large bed for a moment and then darted away.

Killian wanted to tell her not to worry, that she wouldn’t be forced to share it with him, but an image of the two of them rolling around together, her skin slick with sweat, popped into his mind. The tension buffeting him like storm winds ratcheted up another notch.

He never should have kissed her.

He wanted to do it again and again.

“I’ll let my brothers know we’re here,” he said abruptly, not even stepping into the room. “I’ll be right next door if you need anything.” He turned and fled to his blade-brothers’ room before she opened her mouth to answer him.

Dom met him at the door. Whatever his blade-brother saw in Killian’s eyes caused the big grin spread across his face to slip.

“Don’t,” Killian warned him and Abriel both, pushing his way inside. “Just don’t.”

Abriel didn’t say a word.

“You kissed her, didn’t you? You idiot!” Dahmiel’s harsh criticism sounded so loud in their small room—Aubrey probably heard him through the wall. “What the hell, Killian? She’s human!”

Killian’s pent-up frustration bubbled over at his blade-brother’s chastisement. He lunged for Dom, who danced backward on the balls of his feet, out of Killian’s reach.

“Don’t start a fight you’re not willing to finish,” Dom said, his face set in stubborn, angry lines. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring daggers at Killian.

“Dom, cool it!” Abriel snapped, pushing himself in front of Killian before he could lunge for Dom again. Abriel met Killian’s gaze. “Calm down.”

Killian gritted his teeth. “Back off, Abriel.”

“Then knock it off, and think,” his blade-brother snapped. “We have things to do, and attacking our idiot brother won’t get them done any faster. You two can fight this out later.”

Dom snorted and then backed off. He dropped his massive frame down onto one of the two double beds in the room, his legs hanging off the end. Killian could read the disappointment in his blade-brother’s mind, though. They weren’t finished with this conversation, not by far.

He settled into the one small chair, clenching and unclenching his hands. He wanted to hit something, anything. “Did you have a chance to check the lab yet?” he asked instead.

“No, it closes at eight,” Dom said.

“Security?”

“One guard stationed out front, but we’re not sure if they take extra precautions after business hours,” Abriel said, positioning himself midway between Killian and Dom. He didn’t even try to hide what he was doing. “We figured we could sneak her in tonight.”

Killian hesitated a moment before meeting his brother’s gaze. “She’s not going in.” He said the words softly but adamantly. He wouldn’t drag Aubrey to the lab, not when coming here was already hard enough on her. He owed her that much.

“We need her,” Dom said.

“She’s not going.”

Dom’s jaw clenched, his shoulders squaring.

“Dom and I will go without her,” Abriel said, forestalling any further argument. “You stay with her. Make sure she’s safe.”

A stray thought trickled through to Killian.

“There are Fallen-kin here,” he said. “Elioud?”

Abriel nodded, his mouth compressed into a grim line. “We’re not sure if it’s her friends or not, but we picked up the trail a few miles outside of town.”

“Dammit.” Killian sighed, not sure if he wanted it to be her friends or not. Not sure what
she
wanted or which would be best for her. They needed answers, but hadn’t she suffered enough because of his kind?

Whatever they found in that lab could condemn her.

The thought frightened him.

He would not let his people harm her, no matter what dark secrets they unveiled here.

“Shit,” Dom said.

Killian glanced up to find his brother shaking his head.

“You’re falling for her.”

Killian closed his eyes, unable to lie to him. Dom might have been playful, but he wasn’t stupid. He could read Killian as easily as Abriel could. Neither of his blade-brothers spoke for long moments, both trying to process this new information.

Abriel didn’t seem surprised.

Neither did Dom, for that matter. But the disappointment in Dom’s mind sounded far louder than in Abriel’s.

That surprised Killian more than it should have.

Dom was as honorable as Abriel, but he viewed the world differently. Abriel did what was best for the Fallen. Things were not so black-and-white to Dahmiel. Honor, to him, was fluid, ever-changing. In Dahmiel’s opinion, the right thing to do shifted based upon situational circumstance. Sometimes, that meant protecting the Fallen above all else, and sometimes that meant protecting the innocent from the Fallen. To him, Aubrey fit the second category. Dom would protect her because he believed she deserved his protection. And it bothered him that Killian could fall for someone he’d pledged to defend.

“You know where this is heading,” Dom said, the accusation gone from his voice. “She’s human, Killian.”

“I know that,” he muttered. Didn’t matter, though, did it? Honor hadn’t stopped him from getting too close.

“Do you?” Dom asked.

Killian opened his eyes to glare at his blade-brother. Of course he knew Aubrey was human. He’d never understood how his father could have impregnated a human, how the mighty Fallen could have let himself get close enough. He’d never met his mother, but he understood his father’s dishonor now.

He shared it.

Apparently weakness ran through his veins right alongside his father’s Fallen blood.

Dom sighed. “The Fallen won’t be as forgiving toward you as they were toward your dick of a father, Killian. You’re Nephilim, and you swore an oath to live as a Warrior of Light. If anyone finds out about this, not even Caitria will be able to prevent the Dominion from exiling you.”

“I know what oaths I swore, brother,” Killian said, clenching his jaw. Oh, he remembered those oaths well. To live as Fallen, forsaking any human family he might have had. To accept banishment should he ever choose another path. He’d been the only one of his warrior class forced to swear in front of the entire Dominion. “And it won’t get that far with her. I can control myself.”

“Can you?” Dom held his hands up as if to say he came in peace. “I’m just saying, if you’re already hiding out over here, maybe you shouldn’t be the one to watch her. Chance favors the prudent.”

“I can watch over her,” Abriel offered.

“No,” Killian snapped. He knew all about tempting fate, but that didn’t matter. He would take care of Aubrey, and he would control himself as he had since she’d saved his life what felt like an eternity ago. He had to do so because not seeing her at all seemed a whole lot more intolerable than being near her without being allowed to touch her.

“You’re not falling for her; you’re bonding with her,” Abriel said, shock lacing his tone.

Killian gritted his teeth but didn’t say a word. There was nothing he could tell his blade-brothers that they would believe, anyway. They could read the tangle of emotion running through him better than he could, perhaps. Fallen love was different than human love…quicker, stronger. The emotion snuck up out of nowhere, bonding a Fallen to his destined mate in the blink of an eye.

They were stronger then, one of Heaven’s most powerful weapons. Or at the least they had been, once upon a time when God had cared what happened to them. He did no longer, and unbonded angels sought comfort in humans, looking for something they’d never find with a mortal.

Killian hadn’t believed he could mate like that—the bond was reserved for full-blooded angels only and happened rarely at that—but being with Aubrey had proven him wrong. Despite being a Halfling, the bond was forming for him. How or why didn’t matter at the moment, because Dom spoke the truth. Aubrey was human. The Dominion would never accept her, and Killian wouldn’t ask them to do so. For her sake, he couldn’t. When they finished this task and he’d assured her safety, he would send her away from him.

Until then, though, he planned to stay as close to her as he could.

“Son of a bitch,” Dom whispered, his eyes wide. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Killian wished he knew the answer to that question, but like so much else, he didn’t.

“Are you sure?” Dom asked. “I mean really sure?”

Killian glared at him.

“Don’t look at me like that; I’m serious! No angel has bonded to another in decades. None has ever bonded to a human, even an Elioud. It’s…” He shook his head. “How is it even possible?”

As if Killian knew.

“I don’t know,” he said between gritted teeth. He felt the bond drawing him to Aubrey as if a strand of light ran between the two of them. Even with the hotel wall standing between them, he could have pointed right to her. Could have said exactly how she felt too. Tired. Confused. Hurt. And so scared he had to fight not to walk next door and take her into his arms.

“Damn,” Dom whispered.

“What are you going to do?” Abriel asked him.

“What can I do?” he muttered, lifting his head. Hopelessness churned in his gut. “We probably won’t survive this virus, and even if I could complete the bond with her, I wouldn’t, not with that hanging over our heads.”

“But what if you do make it?” Dom demanded. “A bonded angel isn’t supposed to live without his mate.”

“It doesn’t matter, brother. None of us will walk away from
La Morte Nera
alive.”

Abriel narrowed his eyes at him. “You don’t want to survive the virus, do you?”

Killian met his gaze again and shrugged one shoulder, not denying it. “I can’t live without my mate, can I? And like Dom said, I can’t live with her, either. The Dominion will never accept it, and I won’t endanger her life like that.”

“Damn,” Dom whispered. “I’m sorry, brother. I didn’t mean—” He shook his head, his eyes full of regret. “I didn’t know.”

“You spoke the truth, Dahmiel. She’s human, and I’m not.” He met Dom’s gaze and then Abriel’s. “I won’t risk her life.”

He’d promised to keep her safe, not to drag her further into a world that haunted her. If he had to sacrifice himself to keep his pledge to her, he would.
Decus et tutamen.
Honor and defense. The Fallen creed. He couldn’t turn his back on that now. He’d lived as Fallen, and he would die as Fallen, exactly as he’d pledged to do so long ago.

And hopefully, Aubrey would never find out about the bond.

***

Aubrey wandered around the hotel room, too restless to sit still, let alone to sleep. She showered, fed Zee, and combed her hair dry. When she was done, Killian still hadn’t returned. To be honest, she didn’t know if he planned to come back to her room at all. For all she knew, he meant to hole up next door with his brothers for however long they were here.

That would probably be best since the room had only one bed, but she didn’t like the thought. As difficult as she found being near him, Killian gave her something tangible to focus on, something other than the fear and grief threatening to drag her under. He made her feel safe, calmer.