The blond stepped forward, smiling. His signature wafted over me—a cutting sting like I’d been nicked with a whip or thin blade. “We like it rough, Domina. This should be fun.”
Okay. So, apparently, they all called her “Mistress” in Latin. Interesting. My attention fell back to Gorham, and my heart skittered. His eyes were fixed on me, his smile too wide. He pushed the girl off his lap. She slunk to the floor against the back wall. Gorham stood, revealing how tall he was. Taller than the others.
“Moon-white skin. Cascading, dark hair. Lovely, bewitching eyes.” He held my gaze. “Oh, Domina, I never imagined you would bring such a treasure right to my doorstep. I know who you are, Genevieve Drake. Words and pictures do not do justice to the flesh.”
“Gen,” muttered Kat.
“Right,” I answered.
Kat sifted directly in front of the demon called Macon, stabbing him in the throat while chanting. Red sprayed the sofa and carpet. Within two seconds, the human host’s body shriveled into a blackened hull on the floor. The demon’s scream died as Kat sent it back to hell. Energy crackled, electrifying the small room.
The other one jolted from the couch and launched himself at me, bulky frame moving faster than I’d expected. I dodged and slashed with my dagger, saying the words to call my VS power, “
Flamma intus
.”
Flame within
. I missed my mark. Sort of. Intending a stab to the jugular, my dagger sliced from ear to eye. My power pulsed a white light across the room when dagger met skin, knocking the demon to the far wall. He shrieked, pressing hands to the wound dripping crimson on the white carpet.
Three of the high demons attacked Kat at the same time. She swiveled and sifted, evading and striking at the same time. I spun around the room. Gorham was gone. Or so I thought.
Suddenly, my wrists were gripped and pinioned to the wall behind me. Gorham’s body trapped me in a tight hold. His power rippled against my body, an aura of earthy rock and dark woods. What an odd signature, but that was what I felt, even smelled, as he leered down at me. Green eyes sparked with fierce curiosity and something else. I didn’t like the something else.
“His Majesty will be so pleased with me,” purred Gorham, “when I bring the crowning jewel he has so long sought to hold.”
“You demons are all the same. All you think of is possession—of women, territory, power.”
“What else is there?” he asked, squeezing my wrists to try to make me drop my weapons. I refused. He pressed his body closer, keeping my legs, hips and chest immobile. He was definitely enjoying the latter.
“I suppose it’s in your nature. If you weren’t so freaking evil, I might feel sorry for you.”
His grip loosened a fraction as he lowered his face to mine, his mouth close to my ear. “Perhaps you could teach me what else there is, Vessel of Light. You could transform me,” he whispered huskily, pressing his groin against my upper thigh. “Mercy, woman, I can feel your power vibrating through my skin.”
“Can you feel this?”
I didn’t need to say the words aloud as I called to my well of star-bright power. A potent force pulsed out of my chest, throwing Gorham across the room. He fell over the black leather chair against the wall. A stunned expression marked his face.
One of the higher demons bellowed as Kat sent him back to hell with a thunderous clap. The scent of sulfur and soot wafted through the room. Kat still defended herself against the other two, kicking and slicing through the air—beautiful to behold.
The bleeding lower demon, still clutching his face smeared with red, lifted himself off the floor and charged me again.
“Stupid move,” I said, stabbing my dagger straight into his heart and chanting the words to send him out of the human world. His pale skin darkened and cracked until limbs, torso and head fell to the floor in a pile of ash. Not one sound before the beast was gone.
Gorham had recovered and took two steps toward me, then sifted out.
“Damn it.” I hated when that happened.
I spun around, waiting for him to appear behind me. He did. I swung at him, screaming, “
Flamma intus!
”
My blade nicked his shirt, slicing across the skin above his heart. Well, where a heart should be. Black blood dripped from the gash. Gorham stared at the wound in disbelief. Green eyes glittered like a cat’s.
Oh crap.
He sifted out again. I refrained from cursing, trying to stay focused. I pivoted in one spot, waiting for his reappearance. A viselike grip tightened on my wrist. I jerked back, and we both tumbled to the floor. This time, he did knock one of my daggers loose as I fell onto my stomach. He banged the other wrist on the floor while squeezing so tight I felt a bone crack. I released the second dagger with a cry, calling my VS at the same time. He held on tight, but the pulse of power blew us both into the air. I spun and elbowed him in the face, coming back down to straddle his chest.
I pressed my palms to his head. My power seemed to pack a bigger punch when infused with steel or iron, but I could expel demons just fine without them. I started chanting, suddenly aware of another presence in the room, a male Dominus Daemonum.
“Help Genevieve!” screamed Kat as she dispatched another demon.
I glanced up to see a blond-haired, black-eyed man sprinting toward me. The distraction was only a second or two. Long enough for Gorham to reach up and crush me to his chest, banding his arms around my waist.
“What the hell,” I muttered.
In my peripheral vision, I saw a blur of blond flying through the air.
“You’re coming with me, pretty Vessel,” Gorham hissed in my ear and sifted out with me clutched in his arms.
Chapter Three
Constricted against Gorham’s chest, we spun through the Void at a dizzying pace. If I tried to break free of him, I’d be lost. If I let him take me to his destination, I’d be in the hands of Bamal. I’d decided slipping off in the Void would be the better option when I felt someone’s hand clutched in the back of my jacket, trying to pull me from Gorham’s arms. A few seconds of whirling darkness.
Snap!
We stood in a high-rise, looking out a wall of glass a hundred stories above the smog-hazed city.
Gorham glared at the person over my shoulder. I was shoved out of the way. The blond hunter swung his fist, cracking the demon duke across the jaw. Both of them fell bodily onto a glass coffee table, shattering it into a million glittering shards. I staggered backward, hearing the distinct sound of someone sifting into the room.
My VS cranked up to
oh-shit
level. A black-bedecked high demon glared in confusion at the two grappling on broken glass.
“Get her!” yelled Gorham from the floor, black blood staining his gritted teeth.
The hunter slammed his fist into Gorham’s face again. “Run!”
I sprinted for the door. The other demon sifted and grabbed my shoulder. Spinning, I punched up at his chin while channeling power down my arm. A blast of white light. He stumbled back and cried out.
Slipping through the door just as two red-eyed demons in cargo pants and muscle shirts rounded the corner, I sped down the hall in the opposite direction, my boots echoing on the stone floor. Two sets of boots pounded behind me, drawing closer. I skated around another corner, hoping to find a stairwell or elevator, smacking right into a wall.
No. Not a wall. A man. Flamma. My VS zinged to new heights as a signature of downy snow and windswept hills washed over me. His hands wrapped my forearms in a firm grip.
I pushed my palms against his rock-hard chest, ready to blast him with VS power.
“Wait! I’ll take you to safety, Genevieve. Hold still.”
His voice, a sonorous melody, rolled in a deep, languid baritone. I froze. Trapped in sea-green eyes and powerful arms, I was taken into the Void.
My breath sucked right out of me as we fell through the darkness. The second time in a matter of minutes I’d been sifted away by a stranger.
The moment my world righted, I pushed out of his hold several paces away. He’d brought us to a park. A pond shaded by orange-gold trees with skyscrapers towering in the distance. Central Park.
I glared at the stranger and tried to catch my breath, drawing the dagger from the sheath sewn into my boot. He stood nearly as tall as Jude, similar in build but leaner. Black hair hung in staggered waves halfway to his shoulders. He regarded me with startling eyes—deep cobalt blue, the color of a glacier buried and untouched for centuries. Like white marble, his jaw, face and neck were sculpted in perfect, harmonious lines. His captivating signature circled me like a wintry halo.
My dad had splurged the Christmas after I’d turned sixteen, taking us skiing in White Fish, Montana. At the tip-top of the slope, the evergreens were completely covered in new-fallen snow, sculpting white ghosts out of the landscape. The wind blew snow crystals in whirls—a pristine world of enchanting beauty. The air sparkled with iridescent ice-dust, like a fairy land. This image pushed to the forefront as I backed another foot away, gazing at my frost-and-snow rescuer.
“Who are you?”
His eyes flicked to the weapon in my hand, but he made no move toward me. Though we were quite far from park-goers and anyone who could help me if I cried out, I felt safer in this public place.
“I’m here to help you.”
That voice again, deep and mesmerizing.
“That’s not an answer.” Definitely Flamma, but which kind. Naughty or nice? I couldn’t tell. “How do you know me?”
His smile widened, making my pulse pound faster.
“I’ve known you a long time. I’ve watched over you your entire life.”
I examined him more closely. His power lapped against my VS like ocean waves, a gentle suction with each ripple before washing over me in a gentle caress. Though his power didn’t scream its presence or beat against mine, he was potent all the same. The perfect stoic expression, the controlled, straight-backed stance, the undeniable, breathtaking beauty. He exuded the essence of—
“Holy crap.” I gulped. “You’re an angel.”
His smile widened, his beauty brightening into something painful. I lowered my trembling hand, sheathing my dagger. An angel who’d watched over me my whole life.
“Not just any angel…my, my guardian angel. Aren’t you?”
A dip of his strong chin.
While he didn’t emanate the same pulse-pounding aura of Uriel, the Archangel who created the Dominus Daemonum, he carried a similar cast of heavenly essence. He tucked his hands in his pants pockets, appearing completely harmless. But I wasn’t fooled. Even angels could be dangerous.
“Have you never sensed my presence?” he asked, eyes steady on mine.
“No. Not really.” I remembered all the near misses in my life, when I somehow avoided danger or trouble by an internal niggling. Was that him? “Why have you never shown yourself before?”
“Guardians tend to stay in the shadows.” My self-proclaimed guardian, Jude, might not like him staking a claim on that position. “And would you have believed me if I’d ever told you of my existence? Before your twentieth birthday, that is.”
On my twentieth birthday, I’d been attacked and nearly strangled to death until Jude came along, did his voodoo mojo and ripped a bony demon from inside my would-be killer. That night changed everything, including my belief in angels and demons walking the earth.
“No.” I smiled. “I guess not.”
My cell phone vibrated in my back pocket. I answered.
“Where the hell are you!” screamed Kat.
“Um, Central Park.” The angel gave me a slight nod. “There’s a pond and a picnic area. I’m looking directly at the Empire State Building in the distance.”
“Stay put. Dorian and I will be there in two.”
I tucked the phone in my jacket.
Wind blew over the water, rippling the surface. My hair had come loose in the melee, dark wisps crossing my face. Pool-green eyes followed the strands, then my hand when I tucked them behind my ear. His keen observation transformed a simple moment into something that made me breathless. He’d moved closer, within a yard, and I hadn’t noticed. I stepped back.
“Stay where you are.”
“What are you afraid of?” His voice dropped, not lower but deeper, like it was pulling on something hidden within me. My blood pumped faster. “That I’ll sift you away somewhere you don’t want to go? I could’ve done that already. And I told you. I’ve watched over you all of your life, kept you safe from harm so that you could reach maturity.”
“You almost bungled that. I’ve been nearly killed like a hundred times.”
“Nearly.” He shrugged. “The demon hunter was there. Most of the time.”
My heart plummeted into my stomach. With those last three words, I realized this angel knew about Danté. Why hadn’t he saved me then? Before Danté had invaded my soul.
“It would be much easier for you to escape your enemies if you had the power to sift.”
“Don’t I know it,” I snapped back.
He smiled, then angled his head as if listening for something.
“I must go.” He reached out a hand for me to shake. I eyed him with suspicion. “It’s a friendly gesture, Genevieve. One does this in greeting and parting. Sometimes a person even says thank you when one saves another from harm.”
My VS tingled, recognizing his power, finding no danger. I stepped forward, holding his gaze as I took his hand. I gasped. The second our hands made contact, a whisper of winter wind caressed my body from head to toe, but I felt no cold, only a sensual embrace tingling along my skin. My knees nearly buckled.
“Th-thank you,” I stammered.
Edging close, still holding my hand, he trailed his gaze from my eyes to my hair, down my cheek to my parted lips, agape from the strange sensation of his touch, before he met my eyes once more.
“You’re more than welcome.” He smiled, probably at my dumbfounded expression. “Until we meet again, dear Genevieve.”
He sifted out, leaving me with the scent of snow and mountain air.
My VS honed in on other Flamma. Friends. I spotted Kat and her New York partner, Dorian, sprinting around a bend and catching sight of me.
Kat’s frown softened as she drew closer. “What happened? How the hell did you get here?”
The Dominus Daemonum at her side wore a crooked smile and a broadsword slung over his back like he was taking a Sunday stroll.
“So you’re Dorian.”
“Dorian Hall, at your service,” he said in a sultry Southern drawl, sweeping a bow as they reached me. An actual bow. Even in jeans and a charcoal duster with a scar denting his top lip, he had the air of a gentleman. Rugged and mischievous, but still a gentleman.
“Were you a prince or something in your former life, demon hunter?”
He grinned, tossing a heavy lock of blond out of his eyes. “Afraid not, Ms. Drake. I was the son of a plantation farmer in my ‘former life’.” He found me amusing, it seemed.
“A Southern charmer, eh?”
“I’ve been known to charm a lady or two.” He winked.
“I bet.”
“Shut up, Dorian. Stop flirting.” Kat whipped back at me. “Now tell me who the hell brought you here.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know exactly.”
Kat’s eyes bugged. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I didn’t get his name.”
“Didn’t get his name!”
“Why are you repeating everything I say? Look, he said he was my guardian angel, but I didn’t catch his name.” Forgot to ask that. In addition to the million other questions I wanted to ask.
“Your guardian angel? They don’t make themselves known,” she scoffed, hand on poked-out hip. “I think I’ve come across maybe one in my two centuries wandering this damn planet.”
“Mine showed up today. Quite conveniently, I might add. Otherwise, I’d be in the hands of Bamal.”
Dorian scratched the dark blond scruff on his chin. “How do you know he was an angel? And not a demon.”
“Pffft. I think I know a demon when I see one.”
“Do you?”
He studied me with an indifferent expression, almost amused. The thin white scar crossed diagonally from his lower cheekbone to his upper lip, about two inches in length. Rather than mar his good looks, it heightened them to a dangerous beauty. Dark eyes—like Jude’s—gazed back, awaiting my answer. A hint of autumn and spice brushed over me like rustling leaves. For a second, I thought it was our surroundings, before realizing it was his signature.
“Yes,” I finally answered. “I do. Demons are evil, filthy creatures. My VS picks up on their pin-pricking auras pretty damn quick.”
“VS?” Dorian quirked a brow.
Kat waved a hand like shooing a fly. “Her Vessel Sense.”
“Ah.” He shifted, gaze sweeping the area. “Demons are liars too.”
I rolled my eyes. Like he was pointing out something I didn’t know.
“I get all the fuss. You were worried. Got it. But if it was a demon, do you think he would’ve taken me to this public place for safety? Would he have simply left me here? He could’ve sifted me anywhere.”
Neither had an answer. Kat chewed her bottom lip.
“I’ll admit his identity is a bit of a mystery, but seriously, Kat. He’s gone now. If guardian angels are the aloof creatures you say, then I’ll probably never see him again.”
“Let’s move this conversation elsewhere.” Dorian’s eyes darted around, but he kept his stance casual. “I’ve got to get back and be sure the cops find the girls.”
“Right.” Kat heaved out a frustrated breath. “I’ve got to get you back home in case Jude checks in early.”
“Don’t worry about that.” I stretched out my hand for Kat. “He’s been preoccupied on the prophecy hunt.”
As we sifted home, something tickled the back of my mind. A sensation of windswept rock dusted with snow rooted around my VS, convincing me of two things. One, my guardian angel would definitely visit me again. Two, he wouldn’t wait very long.