Angel Bait (Angel Assassins #1) (24 page)

“Go ahead and bawl your eyes out. The real pain comes later.”

He sauntered out of the room, slamming the door behind him, and headed to the core of his hideout. Inside the two-story building his hand-picked team of killers milled around, waiting for orders. They were his most ardent supporters — vampires who’d proven vicious, blood thirsty, and hungry to rise in Detroit’s power structure.

All loyal to me.

One sniveling wretch caught his attention. Oren.

Good
. He had another assignment for the snitch.

“Go to the half-breeds’ headquarters and deliver a message for me.”

“Hell no,” Oren cried. “I passed your message to the angels. I’m not going anywhere close to those killers!”

Saul ignored the outburst. “You should worry more about what will happen if you don’t do as you’re told.”

“But they’ll kill me!”

“So will I.” He glanced at the shaking vampire. “Choose.”

Oren’s mouth fell open like a fish sucking in air. Whatever the fool decided, Saul relished the idea of gutting the sell out before the night ended, if the assassins didn’t do it first.

“Okay, but this is the last time I’m acting like fucking Federal Express,” the snitch said.

Keep mouthing off
. Saul’s mood turned stormy. If a nothing like Oren dared challenge him, how many vamps would he need to wipe out before he controlled the city?

Beleth better hold up his end and supply backup when I call
.

Speaking of … he still hadn’t told the angel he’d captured Ionie.

A new notion formed in his mind. The Renegade’s powers were formidable, but could he kill the assassins? Saul’s position would strengthen if he didn’t have the Order lurking in the shadows, waiting for payback.

Maybe Beleth could take down one or two of the half-breeds with his freaky power. Saul analyzed the possibilities. Any nephilim survivors would keep the Renegade as public enemy number one, leaving him alone. And if Beleth was killed, his friends in Heaven might be willing to deal with the Motor City’s new vampire kingpin.

He beamed a smile at Oren. “I promise this will be your last run as messenger. Now, listen up.”

• • •

Kas scowled at the security feed. “What the hell does he want?”

Jarrid leaned over to get a look at the skinny vampire’s image on the monitor. The bloodsucker paced in front of the Stronghold’s closed gates, careful not to leave the camera’s line of sight. The guy wanted to be noticed.

He checked his gun clips with efficient fingers, and then touched his brother’s shoulder. “If he twitches, I’ll smoke him.”

Kas gave a terse nod and tapped a series of keys. The camera switched to infrared view.

Vamp bodies ran cold under that imaging. Their guest displayed pools of red and orange color near his head, chest, and hands. The vamp had to be scared shitless to generate the heat signature. Jarrid smiled. Loitering outside a warehouse full of assassins would terrify a Navy SEAL.

He touched his earpiece and exited the surveillance room. “I’m heading out.”

“The roof’s covered,” Cain said in his ear. “Nesty’s eyeballing the vamp through the sniper rifle.”

“I’ve got your six,” Tanis said next.

Always watching my back.
He didn’t ask Cain’s position. The vamp hadn’t noticed he’d picked up a second shadow near the entrance.

Jarrid stomped toward their quarry in the crisp evening wind. The vamp’s eyes bulged in their sockets at Jarrid’s approach. His leather trench flared, revealing the toys strapped to his body. “If you’re here to sell Amway, I’ll kick your ass.”

The vampire’s Adam’s Apple bobbed. Jarrid pressed his lips in a hard line. He’d seen some ugly bloodsuckers in his day, but this one was nothing but gaunt skin stretched over protruding bones.

“What do you want?” Jarrid asked.

“I … I’m Oren, the local information broker. I have a message for the … the leader of the … the Order.”

“He’s listening,” Jarrid said. Tanis and the others could hear the conversation.

“Saul has the Scribe. He … he said the woman will die if your leader doesn’t meet him tonight.”

Jarrid grabbed the vampire’s neck and lifted him off his feet. “Where is she?”

Oren sputtered and squirmed.

Cain stepped into view. “Easy J, we need an address.”

“If you kill me, you won’t get squat.”

“Oh, you feeling brave, my man?” Cain asked. “Maybe I should explain how many ways Jarrid can kill you without killing you. Get my drift?”

The vampire went still. “He … he’s Jarrid?”

“The one and only,” Jarrid said.

“Saul has a message for you, too.”

If Jarrid never heard that name again, he’d be set for life. “Spit it out.”

“He said your secret is out and your angel bait hasn’t moved an inch since he told her.”

Jarrid’s body iced over.

“Oh shit,” Cain said, lowering his head.

Ionie knew.

God of All, she heard it from that fucking vampire?

He couldn’t breathe. He stumbled back, away from Oren’s confused face and Cain’s sympathetic gaze. Over his earpiece the tinny voices of Kas, Tanis, and Nesty faded into a static buzz. Jarrid’s vision blinked in and out.

He pictured Ionie’s eyes staring at him with accusation. Her mouth, which introduced him to the most unimaginable pleasures, would never whisper his name with affection. There would be nothing left of the woman who gave her trust to him — a man so blinded by his goals he’d forgotten that he risked more than Ascension.

He forgot love could turn to hate.

“What’s the address?” Cain asked.

Jarrid looked at Oren. He fisted his hands, ready to beat the information out of the bloodsucker.

“I don’t have anything to do with Saul, or the Scribe,” the vamp said. “He’s a maniac. I hope you kill him.”

“I guarantee it,” Jarrid said. “Saul died the second he took my woman.”

“I had no part in that shit. Saul’s buddy-buddy with an angel. They’re gonna meet tonight at the old Wonderbread factory. The place is packed with goons, and they’re armed to the fangs with shit I’ve never seen before. You go in there and you’re walking into Hell.”

“I’m already in Hell, snitch,” Jarrid said.

Jarrid threw open his closet door, his mind on auto pilot. He grabbed his backup gear, adding extra clips and throwing daggers to the heavy arsenal he wore. Saul’s hideout would be crammed with vamps armed for a war.
No problem. They’ll get one
.

His plan was simple.

Save Ionie.

Kill Saul.

Kill Beleth.

Kill anything with fangs.

Screw the Directorate.
Those pricks want Beleth back in Heaven? Cool. They’ll get him in a body bag
.

Jarrid slammed the armoire shut, cracking the antique up the center. As he stormed out of the closet, the imposing bed caught his attention. Ionie should be laying there, curled into the soft warmth, his arms around her slim waist.

He shoved the romantic notion away. When he got her back, he’d be lucky if she let him get within two counties of her.

Damn it! Why did I mix her up in this shit?
Jarrid tracked and captured marks before without trouble. Now a lone woman made him careless. He strode out of the bedroom and bounded down the stairs to the main lobby. He pulled up short when four towering bodies blocked his exit.

Cain, Kas, Nesty, and Tanis dressed in all black. All wore an assault team worth of guns and daggers. Nesty tossed a grenade in the air, over and over. The only difference between their attire was the swathe of black leather binding Tanis’ shriveled wings to his back and the two swords resting against the angel’s hips.

Jarrid’s eyebrows butted against his hairline. “You got a date?”

“The RSVP didn’t say you’d go solo,” Tanis said, crossing his muscled arms against his chest.

Jarrid dipped his head. His mentor expected to stand with him, despite the useless wings that flooded Tanis with pain. “Maybe you should sit this one out.”

“Make me.”

Jarrid glanced at the rest of the team for support. The assholes left him hanging in the breeze. “What about the Directorate? At least one of them cut a deal with Beleth. We don’t know who or why, but we can’t stay in the dark.”

Tanis scowled and remained quiet.

“You can get answers we need,” Jarrid said. “If the mission goes bad, we have to know who up there is a traitor. You can get to people we can’t.”

He rubbed at the tension creeping into his neck. Tanis had a right to go after Beleth, just like he had dibs on Saul’s worthless carcass. Still, he prayed his adopted father saw reason. Ionie was trapped, alone, and transforming into a hybrid.
Could Beleth use her power against them?
The last thing he wanted was the bastard’s Grace inside her, destroying her pure soul.

“I don’t like this,” Tanis said, his shoulders shaking, his rage close to the surface. “I want Beleth’s head on a spike.”

Jarrid sealed his lips. His father had to work this out alone.

“Damn it,” Tanis said. “If someone
is
playing both sides I’m the only person who can dig deep enough to find out who.”

He squeezed Tanis’ shoulder and stared into his mentor’s silver eyes. A lifetime passed between them. The angel nodded. The crisp gesture spoke volumes.

Ionie meant more to Tanis than revenge. With a final nod, Jarrid walked away.

Outside the Stronghold, the rest of the team split up. Cain rode with him while Nesty rode shotgun with Kas.

The city rolled past in silence.

That suited Jarrid.

His thoughts belonged to the biracial beauty who’d stolen his heart.

• • •

Saul flexed his fingers while he waited for Beleth to arrive. The call to his ally went as expected — Saul giving assurances the woman wearing a path in her cell floor was the right one, and Beleth threatening to do this and that to him
for eternity
if he was wrong.

The more he dealt with the Renegade, the more switching teams to the assassins tempted him.

Patience.
Tonight he expected to be free of his troublesome enemies — and ally.

Around him, vampire thugs triple checked their weapons, the bricked room engulfed in the pungent aroma of sweat. Saul breathed in deep, filling his lungs to capacity, anticipating the coming bloodshed.

A dark shadow passed over the second floor windows and disappeared. He rose from his chair. The building’s dual steel doors screeched on dry wheels as they rolled open. His gang froze to a man as Beleth strolled in, his mighty black wings arched behind him.

Saul tipped his head to his lieutenant. The vampire turned and exited the room.

“Where is she?”

“Being retrieved.”

Beleth raise an eyebrow, then gave the assembled gang a slow, contemplative stare. The angel’s expression was flat and unimpressed. “Is this pathetic show of force on my behalf?”

Christ
. Saul wanted to gut the bastard. The guy had guts — and massive balls — to act so superior on his turf. Saul forced a smile to his lips. “I believe in taking precautions. Detroit’s a city where the weak are killed and eaten.”

Beleth rolled his eyes. “The weak populate all cities on this forsaken planet. Only Heaven is immune.”

Low grumbling erupted around the room. Saul hid his smirk. If the fly boy wasn’t careful, Beleth would get to demonstrate weakness with his body riddled with bullets.

“Get your hands off me!”

Every head turned to see Saul’s prize shoved into view. Ionie’s hair tangled over her shoulders, highlighting her exotic face. The trembling girl was history, replaced by an ill-tempered beauty he wanted to sink into with more than his fangs. Saul stole a glance at the angel.

Beleth stood as rigid as a plank. Saul wished he’d hurry and confirm Ionie’s angelic connection and get rid of her.

“Call off your dog, or I’ll rip his face off!”

Saul grinned at Ionie’s display of temper.
Fiery, tough, and unfazed by the presence of his men or the black-winged devil.

Utterly delightful.
“You’re sexy when you’re angry, but mind your manners. You wouldn’t want my partner to get the wrong first impression.”

“Like I give a shit,” she said, casting daggers of hate at the angel.

Beleth returned her scorn with a lopsided smile. He stepped towards the woman and studied her. Saul waited, curious to know what the angel planned. The Renegade stretched out his arm. A tendril of light spun from his fingertips and into the Ionie’s chest. She cried out.

“Where did you find her?” Beleth asked.

“Does it matter? She’s the one you want.”

“Yes, she is. See how my Grace recognizes her?” The angel cupped Ionie’s chin, lifting her face. “Your mother was easy to find, but you eluded me.”

“Wha-what about my mother?”

The unpracticed smile widened on Beleth’s face. “When I found her, she still lived. She asked for you.”

What was this shit?
Saul stepped closer.

“You’re the angel people saw.” Ionie’s skin turned ashen, like coal left to burn too long. “Did you try to help her?”

Beleth’s shoulders shook with his laugh. “Why would I do that? The bullets did my job for me. Those were dangerous times. I didn’t confirm your existence until long after I went back into hiding.”

The Renegade peeked over his shoulder. Saul read the calculating set in his sinister eyes. “The last time we spoke, she was under protection. How is she now here, and where are the half-breeds?”

Good question
. Oren should have delivered the message by now, yet there was no sign of the assassins. Saul stole a glance at the two vampires guarding the front entrance. Each shook his head. Annoyed, Saul forced himself to face facts: his revenge on Jarrid had slipped away. That weasel snitch likely fled the city instead of doing as ordered.

“We took care of them,” Saul said.

“I’m to believe a ragtag bunch of blood drinkers managed to kill an elite team of assassins,” Beleth said.

Saul’s temper rose and his fangs elongate. The constant insults spewed by the angel grated on every nerve in his body until he wanted to rip his jugular out. Maybe he should. He could still achieve his end goals without Beleth’s angel army — it would only take longer.