The command he projected with the protective move melted her resistance. The world wobbled and skinned her face with brisk air as the motorcycle sped away from the scene of the crash. She clung desperately, crushing her cheek to the supple plane of his leather-clad back.
She didnt know who this man was, but hed taken her away from the other man who had looked like a junkie. A man whose hand she had almost taken because the unspoken promise in his gaze had reached inside and touched a part of her shed thought buried.
Had she heard him say, I can give you what you seek"?
How could he know what she wanted? Half the time she didnt know what she wanted.
Safety was fore on that unknown list, and she grasped it, if only for the moment.
Stop ahead on Eleventh Avenue, she yelled. Eden could barely hear her voice. She doubted he could hear her over the roar of the motor. Please!
He reached back to slide a hand along her thigh. Her skirt road up high and his palm burnished her flesh. It wasnt a suggestive move, but more to ensure she was still there. Safe. The tingling desire shed felt when hed touched her ankle returned. The touch ignited beneath her skin, shimmying adrenaline and a frenzy of want to her belly.
So this was what the damsel felt like when rescued by the knight?
Shed take it.
Guilt reared up too quickly. Theyd ridden away from those injured at the scene. But shed heard the ambulance. The driver, and any others who may be injured, would be taken to the hospital.
And what of her? Beyond a few cuts she hadnt a more serious injury. What hurt was that damned spot on her arm where the man had licked her. If she were not clinging for life to her rescuer, shed be scratching.
The motorcycle veered right sharply. Squeezing her thighs against his to hang on, Eden recognized the Chelsea Piers. The area boasted a lot of new developments, but as well, many unoccupied warehouses and storage facilities were badly in need of restoration.
They drove through a narrow warehouse door and into a dark, empty storage room three stories high.
The motorcycle stopped and tilted left as the driver let down the kickstand. Eden slid off. Before the man could speak, she rushed him, threading her arms about his chest and squeezing.
Thank you, she said. She pushed away and stepped back, sliding her palms down her hips.
Sorry.
No need for apologies, my lady.
It was a reaction to being rescued. I dont normally hug strangers. Im just so thankful.
This is not a rescue.
Seriously? What is it? You got me away from that freaky guy.
He will come to you. I will be waiting.
She scratched her forearm. Cautious to keep the man in view, she scanned her surroundings. The door theyd rolled through was her only way out.
She noticed his curiosity as she scratched. Eden tugged down her sleeve, embarrassed when she should only be thankful she was safe. But was she? Hed said this wasnt a rescue. So what did he intend to do with her, alone in this abandoned building?
She wasnt about to stick around to find out. Reaching up under her skirt, she claimed the blade tucked against her thigh.
Eden dashed toward the open doorway bursting with a shock of orange from the setting sun.
Just as she slapped a palm against the rough wood door frame, a huge body slid before her. Edens entire body slammed into the unmoving force of man. He was a head taller than she, and twice as wide.
I prefer you remain in here, my lady.
Yeah? Thats what scares me.
Pushing from his solid chest, Eden stepped away, knife held before her in warning. Shed taken a self-defense course and was prepared to stab if necessary.
But how big could a man be? He filled the doorway.
The low sun behind him glowed about his figure, giving him a remarkable aura, almost heavenly. Black tousled hair shimmered blue and swept low near a square jaw. A line of dark beard, trimmed thin, framed his jaw and lips. A sexy soul patch marked a smudge from his thick lower lip down his chin. His flesh was paleno sun-worshipper, heyet his eyes and everything else were so dark. The contrast was exquisite. Handsome was an insufficient term for his beauty.
Yes, she actually thought the man beautiful, like a rock star or an actor pumped up for the role of warrior. Yet she also sensed danger from him.
My lady. He shook his head at her in pity. I wouldnt use that little stick to pick my teeth.
Suddenly the knife jerked from her fingers and flew toward his. He caught it and tucked it in the waistband of his pants.
WhoWhat? How did you do that? Eden asked.
She took another step back and clasped her arms across her chest. You ripped me away from the scene of an accident. I thought you were rescuing me. And who was that man? The punk guy. He chased me through the city on foot! He ran so fast it was like he wasnt human. And he flew away from me when you arrived.
That was Zaqiel, and hes come for you.
Eden didnt know how to respond to that statement. The name was weird, but the second part of what hed said was weirder.
Come for me? Who are you?
I am Ashur. He glanced toward the motorcycle and added, Ashur Man Yes, Manning. I wont harm you. I require you to draw Zaqiel here so I can slay him.
Slay?
Nausea wavered through Eden. She spread out her hands in the event she toppled, which was looking probable. But she had to stay strong and keep a clear head. All her instincts screamed danger. And the rescuing knight was beginning to sound more villainous. He had made up the name hed given her, surely.
A Fallen one is on your trail, the manAshursaid.
Fallen?
Or Grigori, if you prefer.
The oddness of recognition straightened her posture and she found a clear thought. For someone who had been painting angels since she was a teenager, shed spent a lot of time sorting through books about them. Shed read parts of the Hebrew bible and the pseudepigraphal book of Enoch.
Do you know what a Grigori is? she asked, hoping hed grabbed the wrong term.
I do. He bowed closer to her, his massive frame shadowing her and making her feel so small. And you, my lady, do you know what a Grigori is?
I most certainly do. She squeezed her forearm because if she scratched any more shed tear skin. Next youll be telling me you carry a flaming sword and
Glass crackled from above. A row of windows along the second story shattered. A rain of glass shards poured downward.
Ashur slammed into Eden. Her breath gasped out. He shoved her into the darkness near the far wall, away from the falling slivers of deadly glass.
Hes here. Stay put, he said in a low command. Dont get in the way.
If he was speaking about the punk being here, Eden didnt see him.
Where is he? she called nervously. How could he have possibly followed us?
Ashur tilted his head aside and lifted a hand to silence her. She could sense his anxious alertness. But he wasnt half as tense as her muscles were. They felt ready to snap.
She scratched her forearm.
Suddenly Ashur approached her. He gripped her wrist and looked at the red skin right below the birthmark. This is how he follows. The angelkiss. It is a beacon. Scratch again, my lady. Lure him to me.
But he just A beacon? Scratching where he had licked her lured the crazy druggie to her? No way was she going to continue. No, I
What sounded like wings, yet sharp and cutting as if metal, sliced the air. Eden searched the broken window frames overhead. She could only huff and try futilely to settle her frantic heartbeat.
This is not proving successful. He will not approach when he knows I am guarding you. Ashur twisted to look at her. I must lead him to believe Ive left you to your own devices.
No! Dont leave me alone.
Her outburst caused him to pause. Had he intended to leave her here? Obviously he was weighing it in his mind right now. And had she just asked for help from a man who scared the crap out of her?
All her life shed wondered about things like angels and the fallen and what they might look like, and now. This could not be happening.
Finally Ashur nodded. I will not leave you. But my intentions cannot be fulfilled here and now. Give me your hand.
She tucked her hands behind her hips.
Ashur lunged and gripped her wrist, roughly forcing her hand forward. And then he bent and dragged his tongue over her skin, right over the itchy spot where Zaqiel had licked her.
What the hell?
It counteracts the angelkiss, he said. For a while. Dont scratch until I tell you to do so.
He grabbed her, sweeping her into his arms as effortlessly as if she were a doll. He deposited her on the back of the motorcycle again. Tears rolled down Edens face as he kicked the bike into gear and they rolled over the litter of glass.
Tell me where you live. I want the angel to think you are alone and waiting.
Oh, hell. An angel? A real ? This cant be happening.
Your address, my lady.
If she had known the address for the police station, Eden would have rambled that one off. Yet the idea of being dropped off at home, where she felt most safe and could lock the doors and keep out all the crazy men after her, sounded too good to be true.
She gave him her address, and the motorcycle picked up speed.
Hed spoken of Fallen angels, and kisses from angels, which made her think he was talking about real angels. She believed in angels. They werent all glowy and peaceful and full of grace as modern media would have a person believe. Some were positively evilthe fallen ones.
Something the cabbie had said returned to her. When they were in the tunnel, the cab had slowed and he said he saw an angel.
Had Zaqiel been that angel?
But why would an angel be after her? Had it something to do with the dreams shed been having all her life?
As they sped down the pier, Eden glanced over her shoulder and saw Zaqiel keeping track with them on foot.
Chapter 3
Bruce speed-dialed Antonio in Paris, then checked his watch only after hed done so. It was 6:00 p.m. in New York. That made it something like midnight in Paris.
The receiver clicked. What?
Er, sir, hey. Im here in New York.
Obviously. What do you have for me, Bruce?
I tracked the Fallen to an art gallery.
You tag him?
The GPS injection gun Bruce wore in a holster was still loaded with a cartridge. No. But I did discover something very interesting. He turned and eyed the gallery, still swarming with mortals oohing and aahing over its contents.
No tagged vamp? What the hell are you doing? Traipsing through Times Square?
Listen, Antonio, I found some paintings youll want to see.
Paintings?
Yes, they were painted by a chick named Eden Campbell. They are all of angels. I think she knows something. They are remarkable.
Youve never seen an angel, Bruce, what the hell makes you think some woman painting fluffy-winged angels knows something? Im very disappointed
In each painting the angel wears a sigil, Bruce hastened out. And I know Ive never seen an angel, but I have seen those symbols in that ancient book you used to summon Zaqiel and the other. They are the same. I know it.
He heard shuffling. Antonio must be sitting behind his desk in the cavern. Bruce called the guys home a cavern because seventy percent of it was located underground. Five hundred years old and sunlight had never touched his skin. Holy water burned him and he seriously could not see his reflection in a mirror. He was old world all the way.
You swear this is serious? Antonio asked. Im sure of it, boss.
Who is the woman? How does she know this?
I have no idea. Some society chick. I missed her. I guess she left before I got here. The gallery closes in a few minutes.
Buy them all, Antonio ordered. Ship them to me overnight.
Will do, boss.
A thousand years sitting Beneath, doing nothing more than contemplating emptiness, tends to steal a demons energy, if not his sense of what is.
What is, is the world had changed, Ashur told himself. Drastically. He hadnt afforded the time to look at his surroundings upon arrival here on earth. Immediately he focused on tracking Zaqiel. It was what he did; nothing else concerned him.
So why was he cruising through an overcrowded city on a strange two-wheeled vehicle with a muse clinging to his back?
He never got involved with the muse. The woman was merely bait, a necessary lure to bring the Fallen into its half angel/half human formthe only form in which it could be killed. As well, the form it assumed to impregnate the muse.
Generally Ashur arrived just as the Fallen was going to attempt the muse. Then he slayed the angel.
His timing was irritatingly off. He should not have been summoned until the very moment of the attempt. Had the rules been altered? And why were the Fallen walking earth again? Hadnt their ranks been swept away with the great flood?
He had no concept of how much time had passed since the flood, or since hed been banished Beneath. Millennia, surely, for the world had changed drastically.
Take a left! the woman yelled over the roar of the motor.
Ashur liked the noise of the engine as he revved it, but he did not care to take directions from a female. However, he did turn because he had not navigated this city before, and her directions had given Zaqiel the slip many city blocks earlier.
So long as Zaqiel knew a Sinistari was with the muse, the angel would not approach her. But it was in the angels interest to keep his muse in sight, for he could not track her by scent but only by the identifying mark. Though the angelkiss made all senses unnecessary.
If the muse irritated the angelkiss, it acted like a beacon.
Ashur did not want to use the angelkiss until he had the woman in a space he could control.
Slender fingers gripped him tightly about the waist, clinging to the front of his shirt. Hed gained a mortals raiments after surfacing from Beneath. Upon arrival following his summons, Ashur had taken a look around, seen what the mortal men were wearing and had assimilated the trousers, shirt, jacket and boots.
A few minutes observing the men and their motored bikes, and he had learned the driving technique. Hed stolen a bike, leaving behind a crew of leathered bikers shouting at him as they struggled to start their own vehicles. Only one had managed to follow him, but hed given him the slip.