Saving Her Angel (Archangels) (14 page)

Then a cold chill swept through her, and like a slap to the face, it cleared all other thoughts for a split second. It was long enough for her to focus on Cam’s voice in her head.

Elle, I’m here, baby. I won’t let him have you.

It was enough. She opened her eyes and pulled back with all her strength. The demon had a tight grip on her arm, where large red welts were forming from his touch. Black smoke swirled again, low to the ground, before shapes began to form. Suddenly, it was a scene of chaos as Cam and his brothers fought giant rats that burst into flame when stabbed. Revulsion shot through her, but she fought the urge to be sick and concentrated on Cam.

She reached for the tenuous mental link they had shared before but found only a red haze. Hate and anger poured through her to such a degree she was drowning in it. She shuddered and fought to reach Cam again. Any love or caring he usually held within seemed to be completely overrun by his anger. The calm peace she’d sensed before no longer existed.

Cam. Cam!

For a moment she thought he heard her, as he suddenly stopped fighting. He started stomping on the rats and closed the distance to where Armoros held her captive. The demon laughed.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Bow down to me,
fallen one
, and I will help you find your way in your new home.”

Cam looked up with such hatred in his eyes Elle flinched. His pupils were no longer completely black, but a hint of red was seeping through.

Mike’s strong voice sounded in her head.
Reach for him before he
falls
. He won’t be able to come back if he’s taken by wrath.

She cried out. “No! Cam, listen to me. You have to fight it. This isn’t worth it. Remember who you are and what you’re fighting against.”

Armoros dropped her, and she crumpled to the ground. She gasped as pain arched up her legs. Cam roared and lunged at the demon.

“Camael, no!” Mike yelled.

Armoros swatted at Cam with one large hand. His black claws scraped through the angelic armor and sparks flew. Elle screamed as Cam staggered back, but then he lunged again, seemingly unhurt. He fought, sword against claws, using his rage to hack against the demon’s power. Soon his brothers were at his side.

Hands grasped Elle’s arms, and she screeched and flailed against them until Sebastian’s face came into view.

“Come,” he said. “We need to get you out of here.”

“Cam—”

“He’ll be better once he knows you’re safe.”

He helped her to her feet and around the worst of the piles of scorched demon remains. She couldn’t take her eyes off Cam and the way he was attacking Armoros. He almost seemed possessed in his rage, like the berserkers she’d once read about. His eyes held no compassion, no patience or justice. He was a creature of wrath, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until the demon was dead.

Sebastian ushered her out of the tent, to where his brother and sister waited with swords drawn.

…

Hatred and rage fueled Cam’s actions as he stabbed at Armoros. The demon laughed at him, and it only enraged Cam further. Here stood the epitome of all of Cam’s problems: this higher-level demon that didn’t know its place and had to remain here in hell where it belonged. It had dared to touch Elle, to hurt her until the pain radiated through Cam’s bones. He would make sure it never tried to get into the human realm again. This time, the demon would die.

A soft voice flittered through his mind, but he couldn’t grasp it through his wrath. He couldn’t let anything distract him from his purpose, so he ignored the voice and fought on. His brothers were beside him as they always had been, as they always should be. He would fight until his final breath to make sure they never had to fight against this evil again. There were too many of the hell-spawn as it was. Why should they continue to fight this same damn one?

He stabbed and kicked, throwing a right hook that connected with the demon’s face and elicited a satisfying crunch. Still the rage consumed him, and wrath tinted everything in his sight. It didn’t matter. This needed to end now. The screech of Armoros’s claws on his armor offended him, and he hollered in outrage. The demon laughed again, letting its head fall back. All Cam saw was an exposed neck that he longed to sever. So he did.

He jumped onto the large body and wrapped his left arm around its shoulders while stabbing his sword straight into its throat. It gurgled, still trying to laugh, as black blood spewed from the wound. Cam didn’t stop. His brothers were hollering something. Encouragement, maybe, as he worked his sword through demonic flesh and muscle. Once it made it through to the other side of the demon’s neck, Cam jerked the sword back and forth to enlarge the wound. Armoros thrashed and tried to pry Cam off, but he held on with every ounce of strength he possessed. He worked the blade through bone and muscle as gore covered the entire front of his body.

“Camael, no! I command you to stop!”

Was that Mike telling him not to kill this force of evil?

Cam shook his head both in denial and to clear it of the red haze so he could concentrate for a moment, but his hands seemed to have a mind of their own. He kept up the movement of his sword even as he felt others trying to pull him off the dying demon. With one final roar he put all he had into his strike: his hate, his anger, his strength, his very essence. The blade made it clean through from one side of Armoros’s neck to the other, and its head fell off.

A loud boom shook the tent, and Cam fell to the ground. By the time he landed, everything around them had disappeared, and there was nothing but a barren wasteland. No compound, no tent, no dead demon. Nothing but Cam covered in black blood with a twisted sword in his hand. He looked at it a moment before letting it fall to the ground. Then he dropped to his knees and was overcome by darkness.

At some point, Cam opened his eyes but saw nothing but red.

Was he still in hell?

Muffled voices sounded nearby, but he couldn’t understand them. Something touched him, and he flinched, making a fist on instinct. A soft cry sounded. Who was that? He’d been prone on a soft surface.

Bed?

He sat up but still couldn’t make out anything beyond the haze. What was wrong with him? He grabbed his head and gripped his hair in both fists. There was no pain. He felt nothing but anger still boiling in his blood.

Was the demon truly dead?

He groaned but barely heard the sound. There was someone he needed to talk to, needed to see. He couldn’t remember. All he knew was anger and hate. Wrath filled him completely, and he wrapped his arms around himself to hold it in. It consumed him until he felt it might burst from his pores. What had come before this all-consuming hatred? Had there ever been anything else? After a few minutes, he still didn’t have an answer.

Chapter Eleven

Elle sat on the floor of Mike’s large den. It had been built sunken in, so it was about half a story below ground level. There were no windows, and only a single door led to a short flight of stairs to the first floor. A wrought-iron door had been installed at the bottom of the stairs to make the den a sort of jail cell. The plush carpet beneath her butt made it a very cozy cell, in her opinion, but she doubted the very angry angel facing her felt the same.

Cam’s hair seemed to have grown even shaggier in the week since his fight with Armoros. It hung in his face, nearly covering the front of the bowl he held up to his mouth as he ate the chicken soup she had cooked for him. He always knew if she had made the food and refused to eat anything she hadn’t cooked. Asta had cussed him out from the safety of the locked door more than once when he threw her plates of food back at Rafe or his brothers.

Elle was the only woman allowed in his cell. If she didn’t visit at least once a day, he grew more agitated than normal and started banging on the walls. Luckily, Mike’s neighbors were a quarter of a mile away.

“Is it good?” she asked.

He paused in his eating to peer at her with one eye through long strands of hair, but he said nothing. She held her breath in anticipation of hearing his voice again, but he resumed eating without a word. Although she had tried talking to him telepathically as well, he no longer seemed to hear her.

“Mike and I went to look through your library again. I found a book outlining the seven deadly sins. Did you know there were actually six listed in the Bible? Well, one part of the Bible. And then the list grew to eight sins. The seven more commonly known now have been around since 590 AD.” She paused to gauge his reaction, but he just kept eating. “And here I thought Dante Alighieri made them up. But to be honest, I haven’t even read his entire poem.”

He finished the soup and set the wooden bowl on the floor beside him. They had quickly learned not to give him plastic, glass, or porcelain. Sel had almost attacked Cam after being struck in the face with a glass shard.

To keep the peace, Elle had started delivering all of his meals. Might as well. She wasn’t doing anything else anyway. Thoughts of Cam ruled her every waking hour. She couldn’t sleep for worrying about him, and she tried to eat her meals with him to give him a sense of normalcy. Though, it wasn’t exactly normal to eat without utensils in a room with no furniture or anything else in it except an angry angel.

She sighed and pushed her half-filled bowl away before stretching out on one side. She rested her head on her hand, leaning on her elbow and watching him watch her. They had been doing this more and more the past couple of days, simply staring at each other. She was running out of things to talk about.

She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “I wanted you to
fall
for me, Cam, but not like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

His face filled her vision, and her breath caught. He hadn’t gotten closer than an arm’s length up until now. He stared down at her and slowly reached a hand out to touch her face. She closed her eyes, the tears that had gathered at his unexpected touch breaking free. His fingertips lightly traced the moisture down one side of her face.

“Eleanor,” he whispered.

Her eyes flew open, and she waited for him to say more, but he just watched her. Maybe she had imagined his voice? That would be understandable, considering how badly she wanted to hear it again. He hadn’t uttered more than angry growls since their time in hell.

She looked over his T-shirt and faded jeans. His socks and shoes had been taken away when he angrily threw them at Mike.

Now she ran a hand up one of his muscled arms and rubbed his shoulder. He continued to watch her face as if trying to understand what he was seeing.

“I’m Eleanor, Cam. I love you, and you love me. We’re supposed to be together, but I need you to let me in again.” She rested her palm against the side of his head. “In here. I need to know you hear me and understand.”

He didn’t so much as blink.

She sighed and was about to drop her hand when he leaned against it. She froze and waited as hope bloomed in her chest. He held her gaze and whispered again, “Eleanor.”

“Yes, Cam. I’m your Elle.”

He closed his eyes and sighed.

They stayed like that until her arm cramped and she had to lower it to her side. He opened his eyes again and watched her but said nothing else.

A few minutes later, the heavy tread of Mike walking down the stairs met her ears. It caused an immediate reaction in Cam. He growled low and pulled her up against him, her back to his chest. They were still sitting, and he scooted them back to the farthest wall, keeping her between his legs.

Mike peered through the bars. “Is he hurting you, Eleanor?”

Cam’s unexpected actions had her heart racing. “N-no. I’m fine.”

He didn’t look convinced but nodded anyway. “Camael,
transit umbra, lux permanet
.”

Cam’s only reply was to growl again.

“What does that mean?” Elle asked.

Mike shrugged. “Shadow passes, light remains. It’s a Latin saying he should know.” He frowned as he studied their positions. “He’s hiding behind you.”

She peered over her shoulder to look Cam in the eyes. She’d grown used to the anger and hint of confusion, but now it was accompanied by wariness and possibly fear. Her chest ached at the sight.

“Cam?”

He let go of her upper arms and snaked his hands around to rest on her belly. His gaze never left Mike.

She turned to face the intimidating angel as well. “Maybe you should go. I’m okay here with him alone.”

Mike watched them a moment longer then headed back up the stairs. As soon as he was gone, Cam relaxed behind her, but he didn’t let go or make any move to get away from her. She melted against him, and his arms tightened around her waist. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but she didn’t want to move. It was the first day he had initiated touching her in any way in the past week, and she would stay as long as possible to soak up every bit.

A couple of hours later, the base of her spine burned from her position, but she was still reluctant to move. Cam seemed so calm and almost content with her leaning back against his chest. He hadn’t said a word, but he was no longer growling, either. His hands on her stomach moved slowly back and forth. She decided to turn sideways to ease some pressure from her spine, and he stiffened at her movements.

“I’m not leaving, Cam. I just need to turn.”

His grip loosened, and she spun to straddle his lap. His warm breath ghosted across her forehead. He kept a hand on her side but held the other just above her as if he didn’t know what to do with it. She took it between both of hers and kissed the backs of his fingers.

“I miss hearing your voice.” She looked up to find him watching her. “I miss you, Cam. Can’t you come back to me?”

He pulled his hand from her grasp, tugged her glasses off, and placed them on the carpet beside them. She kept her hands on her thighs as he ran a finger over the bridge of her nose and then over each eyebrow. He traced the edges of her lips and her jaw. Then he pushed the few strands that had escaped her bun away from her face. He frowned at her hair as if it bothered him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He just continued to frown and run his fingers over her head. She pulled the pins out to release the bun, and his frown disappeared.

“Better?”

Her breath caught when he immediately nodded. She swallowed down her tears and said nothing else as he ran his fingers through her loose hair. Every second with him was precious. She now knew he would always be special to her no matter what else happened. She might regret that he’d chosen duty over a future between them, but she certainly couldn’t fault him for it. She loved him and would stay by his side as long as time allowed.

…

Cam had never considered his emotions individually before, but rage was a living, pulsing beat inside him that drowned out everything else. He didn’t know how long he had been lost in the red haze of wrath, but it was very slowly beginning to clear, and he was finally starting to notice things around him. Eleanor was in his arms, and her soft hair soothed him like nothing in his existence ever had. He concentrated on the sensation of each silky strand gliding over the skin of his fingers. There were black, brown, auburn, and even a reddish hue hidden within her locks. Was that one bluish black? He studied it as carefully as if his life depended on it.

The despair he’d sensed from her had lessened over the past few hours. It was better than the disappointment and annoyance he felt from the others, but still unacceptable. This beautiful creature in his arms should never be anything but happy and sated. He wanted to make her happy. He wanted to do whatever it took to put a smile on her face. The problem was he couldn’t exactly remember how. His rage had wiped so many things from his mind, but he was trying to find them again. Having her close was like a beacon in the darkness.

It felt really good to hold her, and she seemed to like it. Maybe if he kept holding her like this the others would leave him alone. He was sick and tired of their expectant looks and judgmental frowns. They spoke to him in various languages, but he couldn’t concentrate on any of the words long enough to decipher them. The rage always took over just as he was trying to grasp their meaning. The haze would descend until it completely consumed his thoughts. Had he done something during those reddened moments?

Then Eleanor would start talking in her low, soothing voice. She was patient and would repeat herself until he kind of understood. He liked that about her. He liked everything about her and wanted to keep her with him. Her voice and scent didn’t offend him like the others’ did. If he had to be in this cell, then he wanted her here, too. Why was he locked up, anyway? He tried to remember how he’d gotten there, and a sharp pain pierced his temple. He growled and stopped thinking about it. It didn’t matter, anyway, now that he had Eleanor in his arms.

He pulled her closer, and she made a sound but didn’t try to stop him. Her soft scent filled his lungs, and he inhaled deeply to keep it there. She smiled, and a little more of the red haze faded away. He started to notice more of the scene around him, and it started to really bother him that he couldn’t remember what had happened. But he was in Mike’s house, so things must be relatively okay.

The image of Mike’s disapproving frown filled his thoughts and made him wince. Mike’s voice also sprang up. Had he been reprimanding Cam? Telling him not to do something? The pain shot through his head again, and he groaned and closed his eyes. Though he feared it was important, he simply couldn’t think about it right now. Not while he had Eleanor securely in his arms and the red haze was finally starting to fade. Her soft lips brushed his forehead, making him feel almost normal again. When he opened his eyes, it was to find her watching him with her heart in her eyes.

The touch of her mouth eased him soul-deep. His thoughts were much clearer, but his memory remained spotty. Though he kissed her back, he knew there needed to be more between them. He opened his mouth but couldn’t find the words to speak aloud. Instead he searched his mind for the connection he now remembered he shared with the woman in his arms.

Eleanor? Eleanor, can you hear me?

Beautiful brown eyes popped opened and found him immediately. He watched in anticipation of when she would speak to him again.

“Hey.”

Hey.

She froze and gaped at him a moment.
Cam?

Yes.

Cupping his face in her hands, she laughed. “Oh my God. You can hear me? I thought I was imagining your voice in my head.”

I can hear you
.

She shuddered out a breath that he felt to his soul. He wasn’t talking aloud, but this was definitely an improvement.

She looked into his eyes and smiled. “I’m so glad you can hear me.”

Me, too.

Are you all right?

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers.
I don’t know.

“We’ll figure this out together.”

He straightened and opened his eyes.
Why am I locked up? What did I do?

Her smile faded, and the happiness receded from her aura. He tightened his hold so she wouldn’t leave him.

That bad, huh?

Oh, baby
, I’m so sorry you’re locked up. It was as much for your safety as everyone else’s.

That didn’t surprise him, but he was disappointed.
Hm.

Maybe you can talk to Mike—

No.

Mention of his brother caused his pulse to race. Why, he didn’t know. He and Mike had never really butted heads, but he knew something terrible had happened. The thought of disappointing his brother, his leader, sat like a stone in his stomach. He didn’t want to face him yet. Luckily, she seemed to understand.

“Okay.”

He lowered his gaze to her chest and ran his hands up her legs until he cupped her bottom. She rested her hands on his shoulders and squeezed. It felt so good to hold her. Her yoga pants were no barrier to his strong fingers. He squeezed her flesh, and she sighed in pleasure. She pushed his hair away from his face and leaned in slowly, as if giving him time to pull away. When he didn’t, she placed a tentative kiss on his chin.

His breath caught at the pleasure of her touch. She kissed one corner of his mouth then the other. She placed a chaste kiss against his lips then peppered them over his cheeks, eyes, and forehead. She kissed the tip of his nose then went for his mouth again, but this time she licked the seam until he opened for her. He took the tender touches and pulled her more tightly against his chest.

Each press of Eleanor’s lips cleared more of the haze. No, not Eleanor. He called her Elle now. His Elle. He let her kiss him and just held on for the ride for a few minutes, but then passion wiped away the remains of his wrath and his heart seemed to finally beat again. He groaned and moved his hands up her back to press her against him more fully. He wanted to feel every inch of her softness against his hard body. This was what he’d been needing for what felt like ages. She was his air, his water, his very essence. She was everything.