The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance 2 (72 page)

Alec nodded and tossed his arm over Eve’s shoulder. “Sounds perfect.”

Pretending to be married to him was going to be excruciating. Playing house with Reed didn’t have near the amount of baggage. All these years later, Alec’s affect on her was the same – she saw him and something inside her said “mine”. Something that couldn’t let go, even though it was best for both of them.

Terri pointed across their lawn. “There’s your other neighbour now.”

Eve turned her head as a late-model Camaro pulled into the driveway next door. A tall brunette male unfolded from the low front seat, then waved.

He reached them and extended his hand to Eve first. “Tim Cotler. Great to meet you.”

Alec growled.
I can’t believe he looked at you like that when I’m standing right here.

It was nothing.

The two men introduced themselves, with Alec making a point of staking his claim.

He was so possessive, which was an impossible situation when she was so crazy about him. Her unrequited love left her too vulnerable, too hopeful. Not to mention all the trouble it caused Alec, who felt guilty and responsible for her, forcing him to concede, bargain and negotiate away his talents in order to protect her.

Terri waved over another set of neighbours and made the introductions. “These are the Mullanys – Pam and her daughter Jesse. They live in the next building over. You’ll want to know where that is, because Pam is our resident Avon cosmetics lady. And the guy helping your movers unload is Gary Reynolds. He lives on the other side of Pam.”

Alec went to say hi to Gary, while Eve extended her hand to Pam.

It didn’t escape Eve’s notice that everyone was exceptionally attractive. Gary was blond, tanned and notably strong and agile, as evidenced by his quick save of a heavy box tumbling from the back of the moving truck. Pam Mullany was a lovely redhead with brilliant emerald eyes and gorgeous skin. Eve couldn’t see a freckle on her, which was rare for natural redheads. Jesse Mullany was a girl of about sixteen, with dyed black hair and visible red roots. She had a pierced nose and red-stained lips, and when she returned Eve’s smile she displayed a perfect pair of pearly white fangs.

“Love the fangs,” Alec said, returning with a grin sure to disarm any female.

Pam toyed with one of her short red curls and sighed behind her daughter’s back. “Her dad bought her veneers on her birthday. Scared me to death when she came home.”

“Leave it alone,” Jesse said sharply, her smile fading. She looked at Tim and rolled her eyes.

“He could have asked,” Pam argued.

“How? You’re not talking to him. Besides, he doesn’t need your permission.”

Ah, the joys of teenagers,
Alec murmured.

One of the Marks shouted for Eve’s attention. Alec went to deal with him, but Eve decided to go too use the excuse while it was available. She wanted to know just what, exactly, Alec thought he was going to accomplish here. Besides blowing her cover and driving her crazy . . .

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve got to give these guys some direction so they can get out of here. What should I bring tonight?”

Terri shook her head. “Just yourselves. You’ve got enough to worry about just moving in.”

Tim backed away. “I’ve got some stuff to take care of before I can call it a day. I’ll catch up with you all over dinner.”

Eve waved goodbye and made her way over to Alec, who was signing a paper on the Mark’s clipboard. Their cover had been so carefully crafted – new car, boxes of stuff that didn’t belong to them, rental papers on the breakfast bar . . . All that prep work seemed pointless now that Alec had stepped in.

As soon as the moving truck backed up and pulled away, they moved into the house.

They crossed the threshold of their open double front doors and she dug in. “Listen . . . unless the Fallen have been living under a rock on Mars, they’re going to know who you are the moment they see you. You can’t go undercover if everyone knows your real identity.”

“That’s a problem, I agree.” With his hand at her lower back, he steered her towards the stairs.

“So . . . ?”

“So what? If you think I’d ever let Reed play house with you, you’re nuts.”

They reached the top landing. Sunlight flooded the hallway from the open doors of the three bedrooms on the floor. A decorative alcove was filled with a custom table and superior quality fake flowers in a blown glass vase. The only other decor-ation in the space was moving boxes.

Alec waved his hand in the direction of the master bedroom.

“I’m nuts?” she shot back, taking his cue and preceding him down the hallway. “Reed taking on the role was a stretch, but he wasn’t planning on being seen by anyone. You, on the other hand, just shouted ‘Cain’s in the house’ from the rooftops!”

A few boxes blocked the entrance into the room. He skirted her and pushed them aside with a powerful, yet graceful swipe of his booted foot. “I asked for the assignment and they gave it to me, so it must work for someone. And if it doesn’t work for the vamp, I’m not going to complain about that. I don’t want you doing shit work like this anyway. You’re better than this.”

“What’s the point of these boxes? Why go through the trouble of getting the minutia of our cover story right, then use you as—” Eve lost her train of thought when she spotted the man lying atop the bed.

Alec made a low noise. “What are you doing here?”

“You
are
working for me,” Zaphiel said, remaining in his reclined position with his head propped in one hand. He was such a large man that the California king-sized mattress seemed too small for him. “It is in my interests to ensure you both have the best chance for success.”

“We know how to hunt.”

Zaphiel straightened and swung his long legs over the side of the bed. “But you cannot hide without assistance.”

Eve’s brows went up. In the time it took for her to blink, the cherub had shifted to a position directly in front of them. He grabbed her arm and Alec’s. A rush of sensation flooded her body, centring on the Mark that lay beneath his palm.

Alec cursed in a foreign language and shoved Zaphiel back into the bed. The cherub sprawled across the mattress on his back, chuckling.

Eve dropped to the floor on her knees, gasping and dizzy. She felt numb everywhere, as if she’d been shot up all over with Novocain. “Oh man . . .”

“Angel.” Alec crouched beside her, setting one hand over hers on the floor. His fingers were shaking, which horrified her. Nothing fazed Cain of Infamy.

Lifting her head, she met his gaze. “W – what the hell was that?”

“I think . . . we’re mortal.”

Eve sat at the oblong wooden table in her new dining room and glared at the innocent-looking cherub sitting across from her. The rapacious gleam in his eyes set her teeth on edge. She noticed that his irises seemed less blue than before, like dull glass. Everything around her seemed muted, less vibrant and alive.

“This is a seriously stupid plan,” she argued, accepting the glass of water Alec handed to her. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

“Of course not.”

“How are we supposed to defend ourselves without our super senses?”

“Super senses?” He shot Alec a mocking look. “Your mentor-ship is unique.”

Alec’s voice came tight with strain. “Mortality wasn’t part of our deal.”

“Deal?” Eve glanced over her shoulder at him. His answering look was hotter than she’d seen it in a long time and it took her breath away. “What deal?”

“Cain wants a demotion,” Zaphiel explained.

Alec silenced anything she might have said with a firm grip on her shoulder. “We can talk about that later,” he murmured.

She sat stunned, knowing he wanted a demotion because of her. Because he couldn’t love her while he was an archangel.

Zaphiel’s smile was smug. “When I explained the situation, he agreed to step aside.”

“He did?” She didn’t know how to feel about that.

You don’t know how you feel about anything
, Reed snapped.
You need to get your head on straight about Cain. You have to choose, Eve.

“I can still hear him,” she said, looking back at the cherub.

Alec growled. “Yeah . . . me, too. What the fuck? You take away the benefits and still leave us with
him
in our heads?”

The three of them were connected in a singular way – Reed Abel to her and her to Alec. For other Marks, the mental connection to their mentors was severed when they connected to their
mal’akh
handlers. Alec’s ascension to archangel had screwed that up for her, making her brain the brothers’ closest connection since childhood.

Zaphiel shrugged. “Raguel insisted that he be able to reach you both. Aside from that caveat, I have provided the perfect opportunity for Eve to make the decision Abel demands of her. As a mortal, Cain no longer has the restrictions imposed on archangels. He loves you again.”

“For now,” she snapped, her fingertips flexing over the polished wood surface of the table. She noted that her freckles were back, as well as the scar on her knuckles that she’d gotten as a kid. The Mark took care of such blemishes, so the sight of the flaws was a visible acknowledgment of her lack of celestial enhancements. “How are we supposed to find a vamp in this condition?”

“You are not searching for anything. You are here to be found.”

“What?”

“There is some concern that there is a growing demand for angel blood in the Fallen community.”

“Oh my God.” She waited for the chastizing sting of the Mark, which acted like a behavioural-modification dog collar. When the burn didn’t come after taking the Lord’s name in vain, she found some of the fog in her brain lifting.
She’d lost the Mark.
“You want bait for a trap. That’s why you wanted to use Reed. Because he’s a
mal’akh.
When Alec offered himself, you figured an archangel is better than an angel. Especially an archangel that’s immediately recognizable.”

“Something like that,” the cherub agreed smoothly.

“So why the hell did you strip Alec of his powers?”

Zaphiel leaned back in the chair, making it creak. “Well, we cannot risk actually losing angel blood until we know what they want it for.”

“And you say you don’t want us dead.”

“No one will suspect that Cain does not have what they want,” he argued. “And the blatant nature of your presence here will make them overconfident.”

“Why can’t you leave this to Adrian?” she shot back. “This is his business, not ours. In case you hadn’t noticed, I have enough trouble keeping up with the Marked system.”

“It has been left to Adrian for centuries, but he refused to use a Sentinel as a lure, so it is left to me—” he smiled, “—and you. Sentinels prefer to use their dogs on the front line, but lycan blood is not what the Fallen want.”

“Lycan?” Eve looked at Alec. “Werewolf?”

“Some of the Fallen made a bargain to serve the Sentinels to regain their souls and avoid vampirism,” he explained. “They were turned into lycans and now they work like herding dogs to keep the other Fallen in line. What Zaphiel isn’t saying is that the Sentinels haven’t been reinforced since they arrived. They’re forbidden to reproduce, so their numbers have shrunk with every casualty. The lycans can breed, but they’re not immortal, so their numbers have grown very slowly. The Fallen, however, are immortal and they can spread vampirism to mortals so their numbers have exploded over time. Adrian can’t afford to risk any of his Sentinels as bait. That’s why he didn’t agree to Zaphiel’s plan.”

“And lycans are what?” she asked. “Werewolves of the angelic variety?”

“Right.”

Eve exhaled harshly. “You know . . . Whether you Celestials like to admit it or not, Heaven and Hell are just opposite sides of the same coin.”

His mouth curved. “Where do you think Sammael got ideas for creating Infernals? He saw what Jehovah was cranking out and got inspired. His versions have a few defects: his vamps are sensitive to sunlight and blessed objects, and his weres are forced to change forms at certain times of the month. But unlike the Fallen, the Infernals have souls . . . even if they
are
rotting.”

“Lucky them,” she muttered, turning her attention back to Zaphiel, a being she doubted had a soul himself.

The cherub gestured to a dagger that had appeared on the table. “This silver-plated blade will kill the vamp, if the situation gets that far.”

Eve just stared at him, incredulous. Alec’s hand on her shoulder tightened in warning, as if he knew just how close she was to lunging across the table and strangling Zaphiel.

“We should continue this conversation later,” Alec said tightly.

The cherub lifted one shoulder in an offhand shrug, then disappeared.

Four

Alec pulled out the chair beside Eve and sat.

“Are all angels sadists?” she muttered. She was flushed, bright-eyed and really pissed off.

And he was madly in love with her. Where he’d felt hollow the night before, he now felt too much. The surge of emotion made it damned hard to think clearly.