Angel in Chains (24 page)
Her gaze dropped a little lower. No missing that aroused flesh. Hungry, hard. For her.
As she stared at his erection, his cock swelled even more, and she licked her lips.
He put his hand on the pane of glass.
She lifted her hand and let it rest on the glass, placing it right over his. The glass was cool to the touch. Her hand seemed so much smaller than his. Weaker.
I won’t be weak again.
His gaze held hers through the glass. Steam began to rise, slowly blurring his image.
He slid open the shower door. She stepped inside, being very careful not to touch him. Not yet. Her body slipped past his, barely an inch of space. She could feel him all around her.
But Az did that. He made her feel him, every moment. He had, from the beginning. She let the water hit her. Let it wash over her and slide down her flesh.
Az didn’t touch her.
She still didn’t touch him.
Jade turned beneath the shower and found his eyes on her. Hot. Hungry.
The water pounded down.
She smiled at him and crooked her finger.
In the next second, he had her against the tiled wall of the shower. His mouth was on hers. Open. Their lips met. His tongue swept into her mouth.
His hands held her hips against the wall and positioned her perfectly. Jade arched against him even as her hand slid between their bodies. She found his cock. Stroked him. Guided his flesh to the entrance of her body.
No foreplay.
No more seduction.
She just wanted him.
When he thrust into her, she wanted to freeze that moment. His strength around her. His mouth on hers. His body in hers.
Az.
Az.
But you couldn’t stop time. Couldn’t hold it close no matter how much you might want to.
He pulled back. Drove deep even as he cushioned her back with his hands. His mouth became harder, more desperate. She couldn’t even feel the water on her anymore.
Only him.
Her legs slid over his. Her hands held tight to his shoulders. The pleasure built inside of her, but she fought the climax.
Not too soon. Not yet.
Deeper. Deeper. He filled every inch of her eager sex.
Az’s mouth lifted from hers. His eyes stared at her, nearly blind with pleasure. “Only . . . you.” His growl. He thrust again. “Only . . . you . . . Jade. Only . . . want . . .
you
.”
you
.”
And he was all that she needed. The past didn’t matter to her. What he’d done, what he’d been. In that moment, he was hers.
The pleasure crested, pounding through her on a climax so intense that she cried out as she arched against him.
He held her tighter. Thrust again. Again. When he came, she felt the hot splash of his release inside of her and the wild rush of his heart against her.
And the water poured down into the shower.
He lowered her slowly. Her sex contracted, holding him close as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through her. She knew she should say something to him then, but she was scared.
Az had come to mean too much to her. She’d made a mistake. A very dangerous one.
She’d fallen in love again.
The first time she’d loved, her parents had died for her mistake. Her lover had turned on her, changed from caring to obsessed in one wild one-eighty.
Az was different. She knew that. Az was different because. . .
Because she knew he didn’t love her back. Couldn’t.
She squeezed her eyes shut. He wasn’t speaking either, but he was pulling away from her. It seemed like he always pulled away when the sex was done.
Take the pleasure, nothing more.
Take the pleasure, nothing more.
She turned back into the blast of water.
Nothing more.
So why did it feel like he was everything?
Az used his power and conjured a fresh pair of clothes for them. Jeans and a T-shirt for him—a T-shirt that looked damn good as it stretched tightly across his powerful chest.
The jeans he gave her hugged her hips a little too close for comfort, but when she saw Az’s eyes drop to her ass and flare a bit in appreciation, Jade decided she wouldn’t complain—not about them or about the top that flashed a little too much cleavage.
Besides, she figured no matter what she wore, it was far better than the bloodstained duds she’d been sporting before.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, there was no sign of Sam. It looked like he’d split with his lady love. Hopefully, they’d taken that hellhound with them.
“So . . .” Jade cleared her throat and tried to act cool when her heart was actually about to gallop out of her chest. “You think this Mateo will be able to help us?”
“I think Mateo is one dangerous SOB, and when we find him, I don’t want you to leave my side.”
She blinked. Um, okay. “I get the feeling you know him.”
Az opened the back door of the club just a bit so he could gaze out. “I’ve dealt with him before. He owed Sam a blood oath, so he was bound to pay that debt.” He glanced back at her. “Without an oath like that, Mateo doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want. For a job like this, he’ll want us to pay.”
She tensed. “Pay what?”
“Whatever we’ve got.” He brushed the back of his hand over her cheek. “If you thought Heather was dangerous, sweetheart, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
In fact, she’d seen plenty. She might not be some centuries-old angel, but she’d seen more than her fair share of blood and death while walking the earth.
“He’s not just a witch. He’s got powers that are dark, and believe me, they come straight from hell.”
She didn’t flinch or back away. Brandt had taught her to never back down, not even when she was afraid. Especially then.
She’d learned that particular lesson well. “Then let’s find him before he skips town.” Find him, get the brimstone bullets, and take out Brandt.
Simple enough plan. So why was her gut knotting with worry? Why did she feel like danger was just waiting to descend?
Because it was.
Az opened the door fully. Sunlight spilled inside the bar. The motorcycle waited outside. Az could probably just use his magic to zip then wherever they needed to go, but that traveling mode wasn’t exactly her preference. They had the motorcycle, so they could darn well use it—and she could avoid the aftereffects of feeling like she’d vomit after traveling.
So they hurried toward the motorcycle. Az had the engine growling in about two seconds. Three more seconds, and they were racing down the street.
Racing so fast that she almost missed the shadowy figure across the road. The tall, blond man who watched her and Az hurtle away.
The angel who’d come for her before.
Bastion.
Bastion.
“Az!” She tried to shout out a warning to him, but the snarl of the motorcycle’s engine just ripped her cry away. Jade glanced back, her hands tightening on Az, but Bastion was gone.
“Is she gonna make it?” Tanner demanded as he stared down at the pale form on the bed.
A fucking angel.
Tears had dried on her cheeks long ago. Her lips, trembling, were no longer breaking with cries of pain.
Tears had dried on her cheeks long ago. Her lips, trembling, were no longer breaking with cries of pain.
Her wings were gone. Cody was good, but the guy wasn’t a miracle worker. Her wings had been cut off, the skin on her back savaged. Cody had stitched her up, he’d drugged her so the pain would stop, but there wasn’t much else he’d been able to do.
Gone.
Tanner had known for years that his brother was a sadistic bastard, but . . . doing this? To an angel?
She lay on her stomach, with her face turned toward him. Thick, white bandages covered her back. He brushed his hand down her arm. He’d been touching her almost constantly, wanting to comfort the little blonde who’d bled and begged.
This shouldn’t have happened to her. This wasn’t her war.
It’s mine.
“She’ll heal,” Cody’s voice was quiet. “But from all the tales I’ve heard, those wings won’t be growing back.”
An angel’s skin could regenerate. Her torn muscles could mend. She’d recover from her blood loss. But, without her wings, she’d be trapped on earth.
“Az can give her his blood.” They’d be seeing the Fallen in just a few hours. “With his blood, she can—”
“We both know the blood loss isn’t going to kill her.” Cody glanced up with his pitch-black stare. Cody never bothered with glamour when it was just the two of them. Why pretend? Tanner knew exactly what his brother was.
He knew what
both
of his brothers were.
both
of his brothers were.
“His blood won’t make her wings grow back. Only a miracle can do that,” Cody said.
She looked so small. So weak. Not like some all-powerful immortal being right then.
Cody pulled out a pair of handcuffs from a black bag.
Tanner tensed. “What the hell are you doing with those?”
But his brother just reached for her right hand. “When she wakes up and shakes those drugs out of her system, she’s going to be pissed.”
“We saved her life! She’s not gonna be—”
“Our brother cut her wings off. He left her to die.” Cody snapped one cuff around her wrist and stretched her arm to lock the other end around the thin bedpost. “If she’s a Death Angel, all it will take is one touch to knock us both out of this world. You heard what Azrael said—we can’t let her touch us.”
Cody pulled out another set of cuffs.
“Since when do you carry around cuffs?” Tanner had a grip on her left hand, and he didn’t want to let go.
“They’re
Other-
proof, thanks to a sweet little voodoo queen I met in the bayou.” Cody held the cuffs loosely in his hand. “They’ll keep her hands off us until we can calm her down and help her to see reason.”
Other-
proof, thanks to a sweet little voodoo queen I met in the bayou.” Cody held the cuffs loosely in his hand. “They’ll keep her hands off us until we can calm her down and help her to see reason.”
“Reason?” Tanner exhaled on a rough sigh and eased back so that Cody could snap the cuffs in place. “Our brother cut off her wings. There’s nothing reasonable in that.”
“No, there isn’t.”
Tanner straightened his shoulders. “You ever wonder . . . I mean, we’ve got the same blood. What if we—”
“Become twisted fucks like him?”
He nodded.
“The day I do, that’s the day I want you to take me out.”
Tanner met Cody’s coal-black stare. He’d always known there was a darkness inside Cody. Demons and darkness went hand in hand.
“Promise me,” Cody said, voice thickening “and I’ll do the same for you.”
Take me out.
“I promise.” He knew that if the time ever came, he’d be the one to kill Cody.
“I promise.” He knew that if the time ever came, he’d be the one to kill Cody.
Just as he’d be the one to kill Brandt. His gaze fell back to the broken angel.
Sick bastard.
Then, whispering through his mind . . .
I never want to be like him.
I never want to be like him.
But the fear was always there, hiding in his head.
Don’t want to be, but what if I am?
Don’t want to be, but what if I am?
She expected Az to take her to some small shop in the Quarter. A place that promised magic and dreams with a dozen magic crystals and potions stocked in the windows.
But he drove past the Quarter and left the crowds of the city behind. Her gaze lit on the tossed beads as they headed out. Beads that dangled from lamp posts. Beads that had been shattered in the street.
Only a few more days of Mardi Gras madness were left. By the time the big party ended, what would her life be like?
Jade held tighter to Az as houses began to blur past them. Soon, the houses were gone, and she saw bigger buildings. Old warehouses. They crossed train tracks. Turned to the right. The left.
He braked the motorcycle. She glanced up. Another warehouse. All the windows on the lower floor had been boarded up, but the windows on the second floor shone in the sunlight.
Not exactly where she’d expected to find a witch, but nothing was really what she expected these days.
When she climbed off the bike, Az took her hand. “Remember what I said,” he told her, voice soft. “Stay close. Mateo is very dangerous, very strong, and he doesn’t exactly play by the rules.”
There were rules? Why hadn’t anyone told her about them?
Stopping in front of the double doors, Az raised his fist and pounded. The fierce knock seemed to echo inside. Jade glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting to see Bastion lurking behind her. But she didn’t see anyone.
She looked back at Az. His body was tense, on alert, and she wondered just what—
The door opened with a groan. A tall, muscled guy in a black T-shirt and faded jeans cocked a brow at them. Tribal tattoos circled his shaved head. “I was wondering when you’d be on my doorstep, Fallen,” he said, with just the faintest hint of a Spanish accent. “You and your . . .
querida
.” His dark stare locked on her.
querida
.” His dark stare locked on her.
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