Her Avenging Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 7) (8 page)

“Thebes has not been a city in over two thousand years.”

Her eyes widened. Two thousand years.

“But I recall it as if it was only yesterday and it was the last memory that is clear to me. How is that possible?” Her heart pounded hard against her chest, a shiver going through her as she stared up into his eyes, searching them for the answer even when she knew he didn’t have it for her.

He hesitated and then lifted his right hand and settled it against her cheek, his palm resting softly on her skin and his fingertips touching the line of her jaw. “We will find out, but first we must see if Taylor knows of your kind.”

She looked beyond him to the dark entrance of the building. A half-demon. Nevar had explained that Taylor often worked with people he knew, helping them with their problems. She hoped the female warrior could help her.

Nevar took her hand in his and the world and her worries melted away as she looked down at them, at his long black fingers pressing into the back of her hand. She liked the feel of it and the heat that rushed through her whenever they touched.

She liked his heat.

It was there in his eyes whenever he looked at her, a palpable hunger that echoed within her and called to her, luring her into stepping nearer to him and closing the gap between them.

She climbed the twisting wooden staircase with him, heading high into the building, towards the level where she had seen the golden light. It shone ahead of her now, illuminating the corridor, and voices drifted to her ears, among them a soft feminine one that carried warmth and possibly a teasing note.

“This is who was at the door, and you let them in, Romeo?”

“They have someone with them and it seemed rude to turn them away.” The angel. The female had called him by another name, speaking it in a voice laced with affection.

The angel was the half-demon’s mate.

She had never thought she would see a union between two creatures of the opposing realms.

Nevar reached the top step and looked back at her. “Don’t flip out. Einar will not lay a finger on you.”

She nodded and followed him into the brightly lit room. Old paintings in gilded frames hung on the deep red walls and furniture cluttered it despite the expansive size. A fire burned in the grate directly across from her and two long dark sofas formed a line to her with a wooden table between them. Weapons covered almost every inch of the furniture, including half of one of the couches, and one resided in the dark-haired woman’s hand.

She was beautiful, her elegant figure clad in tight black trousers similar to the ones Lysia wore and an even tighter black t-shirt that accentuated the size of her breasts. The woman’s blue eyes found her and she smiled.

“Nice wings,” Taylor said and came forwards, brushing past her mate and stopping very close to Lysia.

The woman ran a hand down Lysia’s left wing and she couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled up her throat.

Nevar raised a silver-white eyebrow at her, as if he had been expecting a different reaction. She frowned at him. She had no reason to attack the half-demon. The woman hadn’t meant her any harm by touching her wings. She had merely been curious.

“Do you know of her kind?” he said.

Taylor pinned him with a cold stare. “
Her
? Does she not have a name?”

He looked down at Lysia and a flicker of guilt crossed his handsome face. “I had meant to ask her when I first met her but Asmodeus interrupted. It slipped my mind today. What is your name?”

“Lysia.”

He released her hand and looked her over, his jade eyes taking her in from head to toe, heating her down to her marrow. They roamed back up her body to her face and locked with hers.

“I should have guessed you would have a beautiful name,” he murmured in a low voice with a half-smile that reached his eyes.

Taylor made a retching noise.

Lysia gasped. “Are you unwell?”

Taylor stared at her blankly.

Nevar sighed. “She asked if you were sick.”

The dark-haired beauty laughed. “No. Just… I’ve only met Nevar a couple of times and didn’t have him pegged as a poet.”

He snarled and flashed his emerging fangs at the woman, the skin around his eyes turning black as they switched to violet.

Lysia preferred them like that. They made her feel they were kindred spirits, connected somehow.

“So what’s her name?” Taylor looked across at Nevar. “Because Einar was right and I haven’t a clue what she said. It sounded like gobbledygook.”

“Lysia,” Nevar said.

“So, Lysia, how does it feel to be lumped with two blokes who don’t even bother to ask you your name?” Taylor caught Lysia’s arm and pulled her further into the room. “Bet it charmed the pants off you. Come on. Take a pew and let’s get a good look at you.”

Lysia stumbled along behind her, struggling to comprehend half of what the woman was saying. She threw Nevar a pleading look and he sighed again.

“Less slang, more words from a dictionary,” he said and followed her.

Taylor made a rude gesture to him and sat on one of the long dark couches. Nevar took hold of Lysia’s shoulders and guided her down onto the one opposite the half-demon, and sat to her right. The seat was comfortable. Perhaps a little soft for her taste. She felt as if she might sink into it.

The half-demon scrutinised her, her blue eyes slowly narrowing as her perusal went on, flicking over every inch of her and leaving no part unstudied.

“Where are you from?” Taylor said.

“She said she was born of Hell, but the last thing she remembers is Thebes… as a bustling city.” Nevar slumped back into the couch, the action causing his legs to relax and part further.

His left knee brushed hers.

She burned where they touched and couldn’t stop herself from looking at him.

He screwed his eyes shut and tight lines bracketed his sensual mouth.

“Are you unwell?” She took hold of his left shoulder and tensed. His arm was like a rock beneath her hand, his powerful muscles speaking to a deeply feminine part of her and stirring wanton thoughts.

She snatched her hand back and blinked, unsure how to handle the way she reacted to him but certain that she couldn’t allow it to get the better of her and act on her impulses.

He rubbed a spot on his black armour over his heart. “Oh, I could not be better. I have the Devil mad at me, a beast on the loose, and a woman who cannot communicate with the majority of the world dumped on me.”

She glared at him for that, crossed her arms over her chest and wished him pain.

He growled and curled into a ball, clutching his chest with both hands. His lips peeled back off his fangs and the darkness crawled over his skin, gaining ground as it twined up his arms and snaked over his thighs.

“Fucking son of a bitch,” he barked and clawed at his black armour.

Asmodeus rubbed the same spot over his heart. “The beast?”

Einar took hold of the dark angel’s arm and spun the male to face him. “This beast on the loose… wouldn’t go by the name of the Great Destroyer, would it?”

The King of Demons nodded. “I was coming to warn the others while Nevar attempted to locate it. We could not find it in Hell.”

The angel paled. The half-demon paled with him.

“You all fear the destroyer?” Lysia said, looking between them all, including Nevar.

He snarled and sweat dotted his brow. “Right now, I just want to kill the fucking thing to stop it from hurting me.”

Lysia pressed her left hand to his cheek and closed her eyes, focusing on him and his pain. She pushed past the surface layers of it, heading deeper into him, forging a connection between them that would allow her to steal it away. There was so much pain inside him, most of it not born from whatever connection he shared with the destroyer. His deepest suffering stemmed from the things he had done and she couldn’t take that pain away for him. Only he could heal it.

She snipped away the pain his link to the destroyer caused him, severing the ties that bound them. It would be a temporary reprieve, a mere weakening of whatever part of their connection transferred pain from one to the other. It would restore itself before long.

Her heart ached as his settled, the hurt in it eating away at her, leaving her trembling inside.

She drew her hand away from his face when he opened his eyes and looked at her, his jade ones overflowing with astonishment and gratitude.

Lysia schooled her features so he wouldn’t see the pain she now held within her, hurt that stemmed from both her and from him, blended together into a deep ache that throbbed within her breast.

“I think I will just go ahead and admit right now that I do not have a Scooby Doo what she is,” Taylor said with a wide smile. “But she is made of all kinds of awesome. Erin is going to love her.”

Nevar growled at the half-demon.

“Get over it.” She made another rude gesture to him.

Erin. That name had been mentioned by everyone several times now and each time Nevar had reacted adversely.

“Who is Erin?” she said to Nevar and he ignored her.

He shifted to the edge of the couch and leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his bare knees. “You have never seen anything like her, or heard of anything like her?”

Taylor shook her head, causing her glossy black hair to bounce against her shoulders. “Nope. Hasn’t Asmodeus? He’s as old as the hills and spent his whole life in Hell.”

The King of Demons shook his head too.

“Not in my lifetime. Hell is vast and there are many parts where I never venture.” His piercing golden gaze dropped to Lysia and narrowed. “I hope you are not from the area where the demons prefer the taste of mortal flesh.”

Lysia’s eyes widened and she came close to growling at him. “I feed on blood, not flesh.”

He lifted his broad shoulders in an easy shrug. “It is almost the same thing.”

Lysia shot to her feet and Nevar caught her wrist.

“Lay off her.” His voice was little more than a deep rumble and she looked back at him, catching the violet in his eyes before they melted back to cool green.

“I take only blood,” she whispered.

His beautiful eyes shifted to her and he nodded. “I know you take only blood, and now everyone knows.”

“Like a vampire.” That snapped her attention back to Taylor.

Lysia shook her head. “Not like the pervert at the bar.”

Nevar relayed that for her. The big tawny-haired angel smiled grimly, his dark eyes sparking with golden flecks of fire.

Taylor laughed. “I see you met my ex.”

“She threw him across the bar with a telekinetic blast.” Nevar smiled and Lysia couldn’t help smiling too. Her power had impressed him, and that was only a tiny fraction of what she could do.

“Nice.” Taylor grinned. “Erin will love her. She does love a Hell raiser.”

“She is a Hell raiser,” Einar said and everyone nodded in agreement.

Lysia wasn’t sure whether they meant that as a good thing. She looked back down at Nevar, seeking the answer from him. When his firm lips curved into a smile that stirred heat in her belly, she took it that it was a compliment, and that he liked it about her, just as the half-demon did.

And the mysterious Erin would.

“Then it is settled that we should take Lysia to Veiron and Erin and see if they can help her,” Asmodeus said but there was only darkness in his voice and his expression, and she felt his power rising, coming to press against hers. She held her ground, uncertain what the dark angel intended, but unwilling to show him any fear. His golden gaze slid to her and crimson bled into the edges of his golden irises. “If you try anything… if you raise a hand to harm anyone on the island… I will kill you.”

Nevar was on his feet in an instant, pulling her behind him so quickly that her head spun from the swift jarring movement. He growled and flashed his fangs at the angel he called master, his eyes blazing violet and the skin around them turning to inky shadow.

“You dare lay a hand on her and I will kill Liora,” he snarled, the vicious growl more beast than man, and she felt the evil within him, the intent to spill blood and the pleasure that thought gave to him.

He desired to make his master suffer.

Such desires only gave the evil he wanted to purge more hold over him.

Lysia laid her hand on the back plate of his violet-edged black armour again, between the vertical slits, a need to soothe him compelling her to touch him and make him aware of her presence and that she knew his pain.

His tremendous suffering.

Some of his anger abated, draining from the air around them, and the thundering beat of his heart in her ears began to slow.

“Do not try me, Nevar, and do not threaten Liora,” Asmodeus growled and rose to his full height, using it to tower over Nevar. The black-haired male glared down at him and folded his arms across his bare chest. “You have hurt her enough. It will be your death if you attempt anything like that again.”

His furled obsidian wings arched higher on his back, and she mentally cursed him for using such an intimidation tactic, making him appear larger to his opponent. Angels had done such a thing to her. She remembered it. She remembered them towering above her while she lay on the ground, their wings held aloft and haughty expressions on their victorious faces.

She breathed harder as her throat closed and her head ached, a trickle of panic making her fingers tingle. She twitched them and shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to rid herself of the image of the angels.

They raised their blades.

Blades meant to strike her down.

Asmodeus’s power pushed at hers, buffeting her and making her wobble on her bare feet. Hers rose to meet it, instinct driving her to protect herself from the angel who meant her harm.

No, not only her.

She desired to protect the warrior shielding her too.

He stood between her and the angel, bearing the brunt of his malice, weakening its effect on her. He shook beneath her hand, straining to remain standing under the full force of his master’s power. Such pride. Such strength. In a battle of wills, she had no doubt he would win, but this was not a battle of wills.