Wounded Angel (The Earth Angels) (20 page)

“Ah, but her hurt and her pain and her unbelievable psychic terror gives me just enough strength to stay in this world long enough to make you beg for death.” The demon’s borrowed face split into a smile of unmitigated glee. “Don’t you get that this is how I work?”

“He might not, but I think I do.”

The sound of Ella’s voice froze them both into place.

* * *

Ella wasn’t an idiot, and she’d been here before; she knew what the last few moments of life looked like. She’d suspected she was done for from the moment Dantalion sped toward her in that impossibly fast, not-human way of moving. Then, when he went airborne, the inevitability of her death was as inescapable as Dantalion. But she wasn’t about to allow this wretched thing target Nate without putting up some kind of fight. If it took what little life she had left, then so be it. To protect the one person she loved and trusted without reservation, it was well worth the sacrifice.

The odious thing wearing the face of Charles Rainier went unnaturally still. Apparently even demons could look like a deer in the headlights. But why? What was he afraid of? Certainly not her.

“
Don’t
.” The warning rippled with a wealth of promised agony, and inside the primitive part of her curled into a shivering ball. But beneath the demon’s dire tone was a shrieking sort of alarm that her skittering mind latched onto with all its might. “I don’t want to kill you, my little human power source. Don’t make me do it.”

Before she could stop it, a frenzied flash of Stockholm Syndrome reared its ugly head.
He’ll
be
nice
and
spare
your
life
if
you
just
don’t
cause
any
trouble
...

Oh, how she knew that voice. That was the voice of the scared victim looking to her tormentor, of all people, for hope and mercy. It was the voice of the powerless. The helpless. God, she hated that voice. If she never wanted to be at the mercy of another, she wouldn’t wait for mercy to be given. She would act, and she would have no regrets of the outcome.

“When we send you back to hell, do me a favor and thank Charles Rainier for me.” Twisting around in the demon’s grip, she looked into the face of her nightmare and made herself smile. “He taught me an important lesson, Dantalion. I have to fight for what’s important, because it sure as hell won’t be given to me by the likes of him, or you.”

“And what’s important to you now, you hairless monkey? Your life? Your next breath?” The hand around her neck squeezed for just a moment, and she felt something grind together in her throat. “Your next frail heartbeat?”

“Him.” She could only mouth the word before she cut Dantalion out of her vision and focused on Nate, and suddenly all was quiet inside. Dantalion’s grip loosened perceptibly, and crystal-clear understanding whispered like a miracle through her. “My fear and pain is the only thing holding you in this existence after that ass-whooping he gave you, am I right? Too bad for you, I’m done feeding you negative energy.”

His roar sounded like fingernails on a blackboard. “You can’t do anything to stop it, you arrogant little ant. I’m a demon and you’re—”

“Capable of love.” She let go of all the self-protective defenses, the insecurities that held her back, and simply allowed herself to feel. Nate, and everything he’d brought into her solitary world, was the greatest gift she’d ever been given. By simply existing, he was a never-ending source of happiness, of trust and unquestioning acceptance of who and what she was. He believed her scars gave her strength, not damage, and he had a touching faith that she was strong enough to deal with the scars that belonged to him. When she was by his side, she knew there was a welcoming, loving place for her in the world. That knowledge made her heart complete.

She loved him.

A watery ripple washed over the thing that held her, and she looked back in time to see Charles Rainier’s face vanish as if melting into formless wax. A scream that was pure frustration filled her ears a moment before they shot straight up toward the glass ceiling overhead, the sting of cold night air hitting her face as they flew through the blown-out panel, and Nate’s anguished yell hit her heart with the accuracy of an arrow. In seconds they were high over Navy Pier, the lake a vast and empty darkness behind them and the sprawl of Chicago’s towering skyline outlined in lights before them. Terror all but strangled her heart to a standstill, her stomach lurching in a sickening jolt as they came to an abrupt halt. They hovered, impossibly high over the bright carnival-like lights of Navy Pier’s amusement park a moment before the arm that held her reared back.

“My parting gift to your crippled half-breed,” Dantalion hissed. “Let’s see if your
capability
of
love
can save you now.”

No
,
no
don’t
—

A strange purple-white streak erupted from the roof of the Crystal Gardens even as Dantalion threw her fastball-style toward the ground.

I’m
dead
,
I’m
dead
,
I’m
dead
...

She hurtled so fast through the air it was like being caught in a vacuum; there was no breath even to scream. Not that breathing mattered anymore. Dead people didn’t need to breathe. Blackness edged her scattering awareness, and she was thankful for it coming to claim her. It would cushion that last instant of agony, both the physical and the emotional. To die like this was horrific enough, but to die with the regret of not telling Nate she had learned she could still love thanks to him... That was an absolute tragedy.

Something caught her on her downward trajectory and pulled her parallel to the ground as the patterned concrete of the pier rushed up like a mind-numbing nightmare. The G-forces tugged at her, creaking at her bones and threatening to detach her internal organs from their rightful places. The concrete seemed almost close enough to touch, before her arc slowly eased and U-turned upward, hovered a moment, and settled somewhat gracelessly on the pier’s edge. Air rushed back into her lungs and the dancing blackness seeped away so that clarity once again reigned supreme.

Alive. She was alive. Somehow.

“Ella.” Strong arms gripped her. A deafening rustle sounded. “My Ella. Oh, God. I almost lost you.”

Slowly she peeled open eyes she couldn’t remember closing, amazed that she could feel her heartbeat shake her whole body. She shouldn’t have a heartbeat. She should be splattered against the pavement, not held against a hard body radiating nuclear-like heat.

A
hard
body
...?

“Nate.” It was barely a whisper, but the arms that held her crushed her that much more in response. As if he had no more strength in his legs they both sank to the ground, with her body cradled like a lifeless doll in his lap. She began to shiver uncontrollably, and as her teeth began to chatter she huddled against his chest, only to find it bare. That made no sense. Hadn’t he been wearing clothes? “I...I...”

“I’ve got you.” His mouth burrowed into her hair, and out of nowhere came the memory of that long-ago moment when he’d found her once before, wrapped his arms around her and brought her out of the darkness. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

“Thank you.” As she wrapped her arms around him, she was almost too numb to be surprised when she encountered the thick, sturdy frame of wings. At their base sprouted dark, almost bruised purple feathers that flowed into an iridescent white at the tips.

At last, her wounded angel had gotten his wings.

Chapter Eighteen

The first hint of a new day was making the sky blush when Ella straggled into the hotel room with Nate. Without pause she put out the Do Not Disturb sign before locking the door behind them. Every nerve in her body screamed for sleep, though part of her feared that if she took the risk of lying down she might never get up again. Though several hours had passed since her plummet to near-extinction, her muscles still felt doughy. The simple relief of slumping on the edge of the bed almost brought her to tears.

“I’m hoping Chicago’s finest are done with us now that they have Richard Rainier in custody.” Still wrapped in his duster and the sweater they’d blatantly stolen off of Rainier to hide his newly emerged wings, Nate loosed a weary sigh as he sat down beside her. “Considering that family’s talent for spitting out fucked-up psychos, the cops should be more than happy to accept that Rainier’s trolley has left its tracks in a big way, and leave it at that. What else are they going to do with his epic tale of a shape-shifting zombie girlfriend who sweet-talked him into killing Briella Fields, Gabrielle Litte and Jasmine Sims, as well as making an attempt on your life?”

“It does help that he sounds like a nut who didn’t fall far from the family tree.” It was the most natural thing in the world to curl up on his lap and wrap her arms around his neck. When she settled against him, the ragged jangling of her nerves quieted at last. “It’s funny.”

“What?”

“I keep thinking about Nero fiddling as Rome burned. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if Dantalion really had been behind it all. Richard’s mind has been completely shattered by that demon’s influence.”

The arms that held her tightened. “You’re not feeling sorry for that spineless rat bastard, are you?”

“Not in the least.”

“You sure?”

She nodded. “Dantalion’s influence can be fought off—I did it. But obviously Richard had no problem with letting the dark places inside take over. He gets what he deserves in this life, and in the next. The only thing I’m worried about now is his demon handler returning to push him into taking more lives.”

“When Dantalion took off, he didn’t look like he even remembered Richard Rainier existed,” came the drawling reply. “And considering that our not-so-friendly neighborhood hell spawn doesn’t do well surrounded by a lot of people in his semi-manifested state, I suspect he’d rather move on to greener pastures than try to hang around with what will probably be a heavily medicated jailbird and a few thousand of his closest incarcerated friends.”

“Dantalion could easily bring someone else under his influence, another jailbird who wouldn’t be medicated.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in getting a soul that’s not so innocent to do your dirty work? There’s no real punch of power in that, and for now gaining power and becoming fully manifested is all Dantalion is interested in.”

“I don’t even want to think about that.” She shivered at the memory. When the demon had tried to take control of her mind it had felt like a snake coiling around itself inside her head. “Trust me, he’s powerful enough.”

“After our fight, I doubt he had enough power to even remain in this realm.”

A bloom of pride exploded in her chest. “You were amazing. Dantalion was so weak he couldn’t even use his powers against me.”

“That was your strength, not his weakness.” There was a light in his eyes that touched her soul, and she realized after a moment that he was just as proud of her. “That demon met his match in you.”

“In both of us.” Moved beyond words that he could look at her as though she was the answer to all of his problems, she touched his whisker-darkened cheek. “I had no idea you could move like that.”

“I’m beginning to think my progenitor was quite the bruiser.” He glanced down at one hand, the knuckles now a spectacular rainbow of purples, reds and blacks. “Dantalion didn’t seem to be too surprised by my Hulk-smash technique. Apparently finding hidden things isn’t all a descendant of an angel of vengeance and punishment can do.”

“Dantalion thought you were wounded. A cripple.”

“So did I.”

“You’re only as crippled as you believe.” Curious, she burrowed her hand under the coat and sweater to stroke the silky-smooth feathers covering his wings. “I still can’t believe I’m alive and not a pancake. Your wings...”

“Gotta say, they’re kind of hard to get used to.” He grimaced and shifted his shoulders under the duster, then closed his eyes on a low sigh when she moved to rub his back. “But at least I now know what it’s like to fly. That’s something.”

“
You’re
something. I think subconsciously part of you understood you had to hide your gifts in order to survive your childhood, which I find ironic. While your mother was one of the more powerful in your bloodline, she was never able to uncover your hidden abilities.”

He snorted. “They were so well-hidden not even I knew they were there. Now all I need to do is figure out how to control them better.”

“You’ll figure it out. And you’ll figure out how to use these,” she added, once again stroking the curve of silken wing. When he shivered, she smiled and decided there were worse things than an unexpected addition in anatomy. “And one by one you’ll leave all your wounds in the past where they belong. These wings are going to make you soar in so many ways, and that’s a miracle to me.”

“You’re my miracle.” He kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her lips. And with each caress the last vestiges of the horror disintegrated under the exquisite sensation of being cherished. “For you, I can do anything. Believe in myself. Beat a demon out of existence. Sprout wings and fly.” He returned to her mouth, only to hover there until her heart rate tripled under the anticipation of his kiss. “Love you more than any man ever loved a woman.”

A fluttery breath escaped her parted lips before she brought their mouths together. The completion that sang through her filled every nook and cranny of her soul, and she was smiling with the joy of it when they finally broke apart. “You brought me back to life.”

“Right back atcha. I didn’t know I could love anyone like this,” he added, shaking his head. “It’s all so new to me, this crazy compulsion to just be near you. I’m not okay unless I know you’re okay. When you smile, I can now officially say it’s even better than flying.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, almost giddy with happiness. “After tonight I’m not a fan of flying, but I’m definitely a fan of
you
.”

“Yeah, I know.” His smile was impossibly cocky, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or hit him. “When that demon had you by the throat and was trying to feed off your fear, you fought that negativity by looking at me. You looked at me like I mattered. No,” he corrected himself before she could. “You looked at me like I was
all
that mattered.”

When he was right, he was right. “I had no idea I was so transparent.”

“No one’s ever looked at me like that, Ella.” All amusement drained away to be replaced by an almost stunned look of wonder. “And you know something? I
want
to be all that matters to you. I want you to be happy that
you
are all that matters to me.”

“
Happy
doesn’t begin to cover it. I never dared to dream that I’d be able to have anything normal after the hell Charles Rainier unleashed—a home, a lover. A future. Then you came along and everything changed. I almost feel like thanking the Rainiers for hiring you to find me.”

“Oh, hell. That.” To her surprise he loosed a wincing groan. “I completely forgot about the case that originally brought me to you.”

It took her a moment. “Oh. I was bequeathed something.”

“It’s a little more than something.”

“I never did ask. How much did Claudine leave me?”

“Pretty much all she had, upwards of fifty million. You don’t have to accept it,” he added when she just stared at him, fully expecting him to yell out, “Kidding!” “I’m taking you home with me, but I sure as hell don’t want to do it if you’re going to suspect I have designs on anything other than this knockout body of yours.”

“You want to take me home?” Her amazement dwindled under a haze of growing delight when he ran a slow, claiming hand from her knee over the outside of her thigh, to gently cup her bum. “You mentioned something about that earlier. At the time I thought you were talking about taking me back here, to the hotel.”

“Chicago’s too damn cold for me.” He swatted the cheek he so lovingly cradled, and her laughter melted into a purr when he bent to catch her lower lip between his teeth. “Come home to Atlanta with me, Ella. I want you with me where I’ll know you’ll be safe.”

She threaded her fingers through his dark hair. “Will you be all right if I do accept the money? I don’t want a penny of it to go to Richard Rainier’s legal defense, and accepting it is the only way I can think of to keep it away from him.”

He grimaced, then shrugged. “I suppose I’m okay with it, as long as we can put it in a trust for the kids to have when they’re all grown up.”

That was enough to make her jaw drop and her heart soar. “Kids?”

“Yeah.” He watched her with a wariness she couldn’t understand until he shifted his shoulders once more. “They...ah, hell. There’s no graceful way to say this, so I’m just going to put it out there. They might have wings. Actually, that’s pretty much a given. So, yeah. They’ll have wings. And if they want to have them removed, it should be their decision, no one else’s. So, if you don’t think you can handle that—”

“Shut up.” Just to make sure he stopped spewing nonsense, she kissed him hard. “Kids with wings or without, it doesn’t matter to me. I’ll love them no matter what. My only concern now is whether or not it’s safe to start the next generation of Nephilim. What if Dantalion comes back?”

He shook his head. “For all I know we sent him back to hell. Even if we didn’t, he knows he won’t get anywhere with us.”

“Have you let the others know what happened?”

He nodded, though his interest seemed to be more on how he could get the zip of her hoodie down with one hand. “I talked to Macbeth soon after we arrived at the police station. He’s spreading the word. Let’s get one thing clear right now.” He waited until her gaze lifted to tangle with his. “I don’t want you to give Dantalion another thought. Even if I didn’t banish his ass tonight, make no mistake—I’ll protect you with everything I have.”

Just when she thought she couldn’t love him any more than she already did. “And I’ll protect you. I might not be a member of the Nephilim, but my heart’s got something that’s just as strong.” With a smile, she helped him with the zipper’s descent, then caught his mouth with hers. The world might be trembling on the edge of disaster, but she’d found out that the poets had it right—love conquered all. If she had Nate by her side, they could conquer anything.

* * * * *