Wounded Angel (The Earth Angels) (14 page)

He growled. She thought it might have been a curse.

“I’m a lot leaner...tighter...than I was when you found me in the woods. Maybe you’ll see the difference.” She wiggled her shoulders until the material slithered down her arms. She could have caught it at her elbows, but he looked like he wanted to take a bite out of something, so she let the shirt fall at her feet. Naked from the waist up, she raised her arms to slide her fingers through hair that had been mussed by her quick disrobing, and she arched her back at the sensual delight there was in having his covetous attention slide over the rounded swell of her breasts. “Is there any difference in my body that you can see, Nate?”

“Beautiful.” His voice was raw, strained. A shallow breath made his chest heave. “You make me hurt, you’re so damn beautiful.”

“You haven’t seen all of me yet.” She turned in a graceful pirouette and bowed her head, exposing her back all the way from her nape to where the waistline of the jazz pants she’d slept in rode on her hips. “There. Can you see my wings?”

He seemed to need a second to answer. “Yes.”

“They go down further.” She didn’t want either of them to dwell on the agony and terror involved in the creation of her wings; the marks were nothing more to her now than badges of honor, battle scars that came with surviving. The last thing she wanted him to think of was ugliness. “Are you ready to see all of me?”

His breath shuddered. “Ella...ah, damn it.
Please
.”

A strong man begging for mercy was just about the best thing she’d ever run into. It only made her hungry for more.

Slipping her thumbs under the elastic waistband, she inched them to the rounded point of her hips. She rolled her pelvis, a sinuous move of pure provocation when the material passed the crack of her ass. “The feathers end right about there. Hope you’re okay with that.”

“Yes. God, yes. I love the way you move. I want you to move like that on me.”

“I plan to.” Excitement bit into her hot and needlelike, an almost-pain that tingled along her nerve endings. She swept her panties down her legs along with the pants, then turned to give him a long look at her profile as she rolled her spine upward until she was standing at her full height, her gaze seeking his. His brow was furrowed, as though enduring an ache that drilled all the way to his soul, his teeth bared as he pulled in shallow breaths that she could hear. The thrust of his arousal was still veiled, and it looked like he was slowly dying from its sweet pain. Taking pity on him, she bent and pulled at the ankle cuffs of the sweats. “Your turn.”

“
Hurry
.”

She was almost as breathless as he, and his exhortation only made it worse. She rested a knee between his feet and skimmed her hands up the long column of his legs, and the slower she went the more deliciously excruciating the anticipation became. He sucked in a whistling breath between his teeth as she reached the terrain of his thighs, and his eyes squeezed shut when she palmed the graceful rise of his hip bones.

“Almost there.” She moved upward to flatten her breasts against his torso while she gave in to temptation and flicked her tongue over the dark disc of his nipple before taking it into her mouth. She sucked hard on it while rubbing against him like a cat, enjoying his hair-roughened skin abrading hers. His shattered groan that accompanied the convulsive arch of his back spawned a feverish pulsing between her legs.

“Ella,
now
, goddamn it...”

She’d pushed him to the absolute limit, testing his will to let her control the situation until he was all but insane, and she found she was at her limit as well. With an economy of movement, she divested him of the sweatpants and boxer briefs beneath, pausing only when he grabbed the sweats before she tossed them away to remove a foil packet from the slash pocket. Together they slid the protection in place, and she had enough time to catch her breath at his physique; he was as big sexually as he was in stature, and she knew a moment’s worry that she might not be able to accommodate him. Then she shifted until she straddled his body, taking his hot, pulsing length in hand and guiding him into her depths.

Yes
.

Their broken moans intertwined at the merging. His hardened flesh was hot, but hers was scorching, molding around him in a welcoming embrace that made her shiver and whisper his name. Her fingers splayed over his chest as she rolled her hips experimentally, and joy shot through her at his jagged gasp. “Touch me. I want your hands on me, Nate.”

Beyond words, he gripped her hips with hands that seemed starved for the feel of her. He lifted her up until he was halfway out of her depths only to slam her down again, then repeated the move until the world shook with the glorious force. She shuddered with blossoming delight, the sensation of being filled so abruptly with his thickness so pleasurable the muscles deep inside her belly writhed with the sweet torture. The rhythm he set up was quick and savage, and she fell into it with ease, leaving his hands free to roam up her rib cage to possess her breasts, the bowls of his palms filled with the sensitive rounded flesh while his thumbs and forefingers relentlessly tormented the taut nubs until she ground her teeth against the urgent rapture building like a hurricane inside her. She pressed a hand over his, wanting more, her hips rising and falling feverishly as she rode his steely length. Heaven was so close...

His free hand dropped to where their bodies merged to massage the swollen flesh there, not stopping until he found the center of her pleasure. A ragged gasp tore from her, then another as he rocked with her while the giddy madness he pushed her into swelled...

The climax hit her so hard she could do nothing but writhe with it, trying in vain to escape the sweet madness of mindless pleasure, and dimly she knew he was right with her. Blinding, a whirl of ecstasy that she never wanted to end, they pummeled into each other in search of prolonging the perfection, and it was the sweetest relief to simply give herself over to it, and to him.

Shivers of reverberating satiation rippled along her skin. Her throat was raw from doing exactly what he’d said she’d do—call his name like it was the only word she knew. She collapsed onto his chest, then squeaked when the bed gave a death-rattle screech and buckled beneath them.

“Damn.” With a half laugh, Nate held her protectively against his chest and offered a satisfied sigh. “We must be good at this.”

Chapter Twelve

An early-morning TV talk show murmured in the background as Nate set up his laptop on the dining table, sleepily scrubbing at his stubble-rough face as the system slowly connected to the hotel’s Wi-Fi. The bathroom door was closed while the sound of running water hummed through the walls. The thought of joining Ella in the shower crossed his mind, but even as his inner lecher rubbed gleeful hands together, the caved-in profile of the busted sofa bed caught his eye.

Wow
.

No force of earth could stop the slow curling of his mouth, though obligation to those waiting for word from him kept him where he was. In so many ways the night before was one for the record books. Considering how combustible he and Ella were together, he supposed they were lucky they hadn’t set the place on fire. Broken furniture was only to be expected with their level of enthusiasm.

Enthusiasm. He shook his head as he typed in his password to gain access to NeoPhilim. That was one word for his insatiable hunger for Ella. If he looked the world over, he doubted he could have found a woman who could hold a candle to her. Not only had she accepted his secrets and his failures, she’d had the courage to be faced with the horrible image of her deceased attacker and not be irrevocably damaged by it. Anyone else would have checked out of reality on a permanent basis, but not Ella. With that same fierce grit it took for her to survive Charles Rainier, she not only bounced back from facing an actual demon, she’d done her best to grab at life by seducing him with the hottest damn striptease the world had ever known.

Small wonder he’d become her number-one fan.

The moment he logged on, a video-chat window opened. “Nate? You on?”

Macbeth. Nate smiled at the image on his screen. When he’d reported what had happened the day before, the chat rooms on NeoPhilim had been abruptly abandoned in favor of video-conferencing, and it was a kick to see his online friends in person. Lynchpin Security International’s IT specialist Macbeth was pretty much as Nate had pictured him—in his mid-twenties, with a crazy buzz cut and even crazier glasses that looked like they had been made from the gears of an old-fashioned clockwork.

He tapped the touchpad and opened the program for his own built-in webcam. “Hey, Macbeth. I’m just checking in this morning to let you know Ella and I are still alive.”

As he spoke, cyber magic brought up three more video screens.

“Good to hear from you, Nate. Zeke’s still at work finishing up the graveyard shift out here in San Fran, so I’m the one who has your back at the moment.” Kendall Glynn, a feisty investigative journalist and fiancée of a descendant of an angel of death, showed up in one window, while Macbeth’s boss and product of a long-ago Seraph-human union, Sara Savitch appeared in another. The third one showed the epitome of a carefree beach bum, complete with naked chest, dark tan, a tangle of long sun-bleached, dark blond hair and a shark’s tooth necklace around his neck. Kyle.

“We’ve been waiting for you to check in, Nate.” With her dark hair pulled back in a high ponytail, Sara looked as solemn as her chat room posts had always sounded. “What’s your status?”

“So far, so good. When Ella woke last night from our little demonic encounter, I had no choice but to give up the whole story, going all the way back to the first Nephilim and the fact that we’re the modern-day remnants of those hybrids. That was bad enough, but then I had to explain that what she saw really happened, that it was a demon, and that it’s using her and the nightmare she went through two years ago to hunt me.”

Kyle’s hungry-lean face puckered in a wince. “Shit. Did she try to kill you or is she just crazy now?”

“Neither.” He couldn’t help but smile while both Kendall and Sara told Kyle in no uncertain terms to shut the hell up. “I’ve never met anyone like Ella. No matter what gets thrown at her, she struggles through it and keeps on going. I never knew that just watching someone survive no matter what happens could be so...” He searched for the right word. “Humbling. It makes me want to be stronger for her.”

“I want to meet her,” Kyle said, eyes wide. “Is she hot?”

“Good grief.” Kendall’s eye roll matched Sara’s before she began to mess with the keyboard in front of her, fingers busily clicking away. “Nate, since you checked in last night, Macbeth and I have been researching every possible demon that changes shape. While that particular ability seems pretty commonplace—going from its original form to say, a cat or a snake, for instance—melting from one human likeness to another is rare, and going from female to male is unheard of.”

Nate wasn’t sure if that was good news or bad. “I recall that your fiancé went through something similar to what Ella and I experienced,” he said, frowning at Kendall’s image as he tried to remember the details. “It was mentioned in Macbeth’s last post. Something about fighting with a demon that had the appearance of someone’s dead father?”

Kendall nodded. “Good memory. It happened shortly before Zeke and I met. He had no idea what the demon’s intentions were, but the end result was a knife-wielding crazy guy who would have taken out everyone in the vicinity if Zeke hadn’t intervened.”

Nate shook his head. “I don’t know if it’s the same one. There was nothing out of control about Richard Rainier. Both he and the demon were calm and deliberate.”

Kyle adjusted his webcam, making the picture jostle. “Hey, Kendall? Did Zeke ever say what happened to the demon?”

“Just that it seemed fairly weak, opting to run away when Zeke tried to banish him from this realm by using a technique all angels of death have—he calls it soulfire.”

“Did he notice anything else about it? Characteristics? Abilities? Did it say anything?” This, from Sara.

Kendall pursed her lips. “You’d have to ask Zeke, but he’s never mentioned anything like that. The only thing that stuck out in Zeke’s mind was that when he had the demon by the throat, he described the exact same face-melting visual you mentioned, Nate. He said it seemed to get stuck in mid-shift before throwing Zeke off and high-tailing it out of there. I have no idea if it ever said anything, though.”

“Kinda hard to talk when your mouth melts away,” Kyle offered.

Nate shook his head. “That’s not a problem for this demon.”

“After Zeke and I started going out, I looked into some of the supernatural stuff he had to deal with, to familiarize myself with the world of the twenty-first-century version of the Nephilim,” Kendall went on, then hit a decisive keystroke. “Nate, I just sent you some research on shape-shifting demons. Macbeth and I will continue to look for the identity of the one you’re dealing with, but so far we’re coming up empty on any specific reference to a demon that transforms into people who are supposed to be dead. Apparently, this is a really rare one.”

“I vote for this being a demon that governs over zombies,” Kyle said, perfectly serious. “Is there such a thing? I feel there should be such a thing.”

Sara sighed. “We’ll keep looking, but in the meantime do you need anything, Nate? Whatever it is, just name it. As of now, LSI and all of its resources are at your full disposal.”

“Dude! Ask for a plane!”

“Shut up, Kyle. First and foremost, LSI is a globally based private security firm, so you can believe me when I say we’re good at it.” Sara lifted a brow while Macbeth hooted and munched on CheeZee Puffs, and Kendall chuckled into a coffee mug. “If you’d like a security detail for Ella, we could have a team on the ground in Chicago in less than four hours. I’d be happy to head up that team myself.”

Kendall nearly choked on her coffee. “Whoa, hold up, Sara. Isn’t there a problem with the Nephilim descendants being together in the same area? The way Zeke explained it to me, I thought there was a possibility of...I don’t know, getting a celestial spanking if you guys congregated.”

“A spanking I would enjoy. Thoroughly. It’s the inevitable smiting that would be a drag.” For once there was no trace of humor in Kyle’s face before he looked right into his webcam. “But as far as I’m concerned, none of that matters. I don’t like how this dick of a demon eats up innocent people just to get to us, and I sure as hell don’t like the idea of it showing your girl the face of her torturer, Nate. That’s officially unforgivable in my book.”

“Mine too, but for right now Ella and I are holding our own. I’ve decided to get in touch with the Rainier family attorney, Archibald, and see if I can get any more information on Richard Rainier. That man sold his soul—maybe to get his hands on his grandmother’s money, but then again maybe not. Whatever the case, I want to know why. I also want to know why Rainier seemed so content to ride around with the image of a dead woman by his side. No matter how you look at it, being all cozy with one of the murdered victims of his serial killer brother is profoundly messed up.”

Kendall made a notation. “What was her name again? Lana...?”

“Lana Dever. According to the police report, she was the first woman Charles Rainier abducted.”

“I can research her while Macbeth, uh...troubleshoots Richard Rainier’s personal finances. Sorry to volunteer your computer whiz, Sara,” Kendall added, wrinkling her freckle-dusted nose. “But if anyone can get to that kind of sensitive information in a hurry, it’s Macbeth.”

“I really am that good,” Macbeth nodded.

Kyle snorted. “Modest, too.”

“If I’m able, I’ll get back online around six this evening, my time,” Nate said before Macbeth could retaliate. “Hopefully I’ll have more information by then so I can plan my attack. My main objective is to keep Ella safe, and the only way to do that is to land on this demonic problem as hard and as fast as I can so that it goes away forever.”

Macbeth crinkled his snack bag. “Yeah, but...what is it that you can do, Nate? I mean, this is a
demon
we’re talking about here—a demon who wants to knock off the Nephilim for reasons known only to it. Other than melting its face and bartering for human souls, we don’t know what it can do, but I’d be willing to bet it can do lots of other demony tricks. Not to be rude, but you said yourself that you can’t fly and you don’t have your locating powers, so...”

“This demon isn’t up to his full speed yet either.” Discomfort at having his weaknesses pointed out made him want to squirm, but he kept his gaze steady. “This thing doesn’t want me to look his way and locate him. Not yet. That means I
have
to do it now, while he’s still weak.”

“How do you know that?”

Nate paused and wondered if they’d think he was nuts if he told them he’d seen it in his dreams.

“Well, well.” Kyle’s grin flashed like lightning, a brilliant white in a darkly tanned face. “Look who’s getting his mojo back. Has your inner compass hit the reset button, Nate?”

“Maybe.” And maybe it was something more, something that had been lurking under that compass he’d quietly tried to manipulate his whole life, Nate thought as he logged off. Whatever was happening to him, it was strong enough for him to know he’d be an idiot to ignore whatever message it was trying to get through to him. Now more than ever, he had to accept his family’s curse was actually a gift that needed to be used.

“Ella?” The sound of water had suddenly ceased, and the quiet in the hotel room was almost deafening. With no more obligations hanging over his head, he made a beeline for the bathroom door, offering a perfunctory knock before turning the handle. “Why didn’t you wake me? I could’ve scrubbed your...”

As sounds of movement from the bathroom next door fully filtered through, his heart came to a standstill when he found the room empty.

* * *

The hotel’s lobby overflowed with guests enjoying the complimentary breakfast. After snagging a couple of apples to tuck into the duffle bag now doubling as her purse, Ella made a beeline to the tiny general store off to the side of the much quieter front desk-reception area. Jacob had made sure her bug-out kit had all the basic necessities, from changes of clothing to duct tape. But there was one thing not even Jacob had thought to pack.

Condoms.

Funnily enough, this was probably the only thing duct tape couldn’t fix in a pinch.

What they really needed was a damn toolkit to put the bed back together, though she suspected the poor fold-out had given up its life for the sake of their pleasure. And what pleasure it was, she thought, trying not to smirk as she perused the limited selection of prophylactics. Once they got over the hurdles of his not-completely-human genetic soup, a demon who wore faces of the dead, and the angel-wing scars—both his and hers—it had been clear sailing. It was as though now that the absolute worst of their secrets was out in the open—and neither one had run away in hysterical horror—there was nothing left but acceptance and peace.

Acceptance, yes, but as she paid for her purchase she couldn’t help but smile.
Peace
wasn’t quite the right word when it came to Nate, her knight in battle-scarred armor. Though she’d learned the hard way that safety was more or less an illusion that happened in between the times when fate unleashed hell on an unsuspecting victim, there was no doubt Nate made her feel safe. He exuded an aura of a hyper-protective attack dog mingled with a badass looking for a fight, plus a hearty dose of Latin lover thrown in for good measure. Was it any wonder she suffered a staggering case of the vapors every time she thought of him? Or was touched by him. Or kissed him. Or was filled with him...

The box of condoms disappeared into her bag, but she didn’t expect it to stay there for long. As soon as she got back up to the room she was going to see what it took to break a king-sized bed. And if he suspected she’d become a sex fiend, he was going to have to find a way to cope. Until he’d come along, a sex life had been the furthest thing from her mind. But amazingly enough, she’d found someone who didn’t give a damn about her past; if anything, he had a more screwed-up life than hers. Maybe it was because of that, or because he’d been the one to find her that long-ago day in the North Carolina woods, but she trusted Nate. Even more than wanting him—and she wanted him with the passion of a thousand burning suns—she trusted him. And unless her instincts were on the fritz, he was in the same boat. Now that he’d come clean with all his secrets, some internal wall within Nate had come tumbling down.