Unchained

Chapter Seven

Nathaniel glanced up from the enormous Book of Names. It was far too early for him to be up, and even more so for Luke. But it seemed like Luke was sleeping as little as he was. He slipped his hand over the Book, closing it.

The Book of Names was exactly what it sounded like. It contained all the names of those fostered by the Fallen from creation to today. When a Nephilim was created, the name and location would appear. A mark would emerge by their name once their mother passed. It was then when they went for the child. Never would he take a youngling from the arms of their mother. Not even Nathaniel knew how the Book worked or who was behind the knowledge. He was simply the reader, and only a trusted few were sent to retrieve the children. He hoped one day he could entrust Luke with such a duty.

“Where’s Lily?” Nathaniel asked.

Luke pushed away from the door. “At her place.”

Nathaniel’s eyes closed briefly. The girl would be the death of him. From the moment he’d brought the screaming child home, she had hooked herself around his heart.

“I tried to get her to stay at the Sanctuary, but you know how she is.”

Nathaniel stood, fishing a golden key from his pocket. He approached the large cabinet, unlocking the lower half. “Is that one still following her?”

“Yes.” Luke’s hands balled into fists. “I don’t know what he’s about. He’s fast, so questioning him is nearly impossible.”

He placed the timeless Book in its place. The key went back into his pocket. He faced Luke. “Don’t go after him.”

Luke scowled. “So we should let him do what he wants with Lily? Is that what you are suggesting?”

“Lily is not Anna. You know that.”

Luke went still. His eyes turned glacial. There was a full minute before he spoke. “Don’t speak to me about Anna.”

His eyes locked with the younger Nephilim. A wealth of regret swelled in him. “Luke, I—”

“I don’t like where any of this is heading with Lily,” he cut him off. “This is how it started with Anna.”

“I don’t like his obsession with her any more than you do,” he responded quietly. “But Julian has never attempted to hurt her.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Luke spat out. “That’s what the Fallen did to Anna. He followed her, protected her, and gained her trust, only to spin that trust back on her. You can’t trust him!”

Nathaniel’s brows rose. “Do you think that I do? I trust Lily. That is what matters. She would never be so foolish to entertain anything with him.”

What had happened to Anna hung between the two and had created a gulf that would always remain. Nathaniel knew Luke blamed him for allowing Anna to have too much freedom. Just like Lily. But there were things he could never share about Julian. That fallen angel was the least of his worries at the moment.

Nathaniel went back to his desk. The distant laughter of children and the stern teacher hushing their excitement brought a faint smile to his face. “I am sure you’re not here about Lily.”

Luke nodded stiffly. “Micah spotted Asmodeus last night. He was with a senator’s aide.”

“Jesus.” Nathaniel rubbed the bridge of his nose. Asmodeus was one of the first angels to fall, and by far one of the most dangerous. If there was a hierarchy among the Fallen, then Asmodeus would serve beside Lucifer. Growing concerned of what was unfolding, he prodded Luke to continue.

“The aide works for the senator who’s been in the papers over screwing a secretary or something. This morning, the story broke that the secretary had been lying, trying to get money out of the senator, and admitted to falsely accusing him. How convenient, huh?”

“Great.” He was starting to get a headache just thinking about what kind of deal had been made to make it go away that quickly. “So, I’m assuming Asmodeus must’ve had a hand in that.”

“Exactly, but why would Asmodeus be making deals? You’d think that’s below him, but he must want something if he’s the one whispering in the senator’s ear.”

Unease shifted through Nathaniel’s gut. The Fallen congregated in and around the nation’s capital for obvious reasons. There were so many power players in DC to sink their claws into, and the Sanctuary typically ran interference, guarding politicians as best they could. But they couldn’t be everywhere. Some slipped through their fingers and ended up in the Fallen’s hands. It was a constant battle.

But for Asmodeus to be personally involved? “Something’s not adding up here. Who’d you say spotted him?”

“Micah. He’s been keeping an eye on the senator and his aide,” Luke advised.

He stroked his chin absently. “Make sure Micah is careful. He’s not to approach Asmodeus for any reason.”

“I would like to handle this.” Luke stepped forward, shoulders stiffening. “Micah is far too young to be handling something as serious as Asmodeus. With your…permission I would like to take over detail on Asmodeus.”

Luke had a point, Nathaniel admitted. Micah was far too young to handle the oldest of the Fallen. “Yes, that will be fine.”

With a curt nod, Luke headed toward the door but stopped. A muscle popped along his jaw. “You know, if Asmodeus is here, that also means Baal is back.”

As if Nathaniel didn’t already know that. His hand curled around the edge of the desk. The wood creaked. “Make sure Lily goes nowhere near him.”

“I don’t think she’d be that stupid again.” Luke ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t think he’d go after her?”

Something akin to fear clenched his heart, bringing him back to the night he’d truly believed he had lost Lily. “Have Micah keep an eye on her, but don’t go into detail about why. You know how she is when it comes to Baal. That may lessen the blow of removing him from Asmodeus.”

Relief washed over Luke’s face before he left this time. Nathaniel remained in front of his desk, lost in thought. The reappearance of Asmodeus didn’t bode well, especially with his recent suspicions that one of his own was betraying the Sanctuary. He could only hope it didn’t involve Asmodeus.

…

Cory stared listlessly at the beige walls of his study. His wife had stressed for weeks on the color scheme before finally settling on the earthy tone. All the paint chips he had been forced to stare at had driven him crazy. They all had looked the same to him, and only to stave off a fight with his wife, he had picked one blindly. Cory ended up hating the color. Now it seemed pointless.

The file lay open on his desk. A picture of a male in his late twenties was clipped to a basic information sheet: name, date of birth, and occupation. Like Asmodeus hadn’t already known that information. It had been the address Asmodeus needed. The fucking angel had been blocked from finding the guy’s location for whatever screwed-up celestial reason.

He’d done this to find out where a fucking cop lived.

Cory wiped a hand over his sweaty brow as he stared down at the small pistol he kept in his desk in case there were intruders.

He choked on his dry laughter. He may have fooled his wife, but he would’ve never had the courage to shoot someone. The idea of taking someone’s life had once sickened him.

Letting out a broken sob, he palmed the small gun. Religion had never appealed to him before, but after what he had done…what he had agreed to… All so he could keep a job he hated, a power he didn’t really have, and a wife twenty years younger than him.

“I’ve fucked up,” he whispered to the empty room.

Cory had, and he knew it. He had done as the thing had asked. Then this…urge filled him, riding him hard. He couldn’t shake it nor could he push the endless chant from his thoughts. Do it. End it. End it all. Do it. From the moment he left that thing in his limo it had begun. There were no other options, no other end result.

He had given up his soul for what?

Numbness came over Cory; a sense of resignation filled his heart and mind. He gazed down at the gun in his trembling hands and then at the picture of his wife and their young daughter. Without looking away, he put the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger.

…

Michael shifted the bag of groceries to his other arm as he stepped off the elevator. He barely remembered getting up, showering, and heading out to the corner store. A surreal haze had settled over him last night, and it hadn’t lifted.

It was just a messed-up dream—all of it.

Yeah, he’d keep telling himself that until he believed it. Because whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the boy’s face distorting and heard that horrible scream.

He still had no clue what he was going to do. Over an hour ago, he was supposed to meet the asshole named Luke at the Sanctuary. It wasn’t like he’d been given an option. Just told to show up. Screw that.

Heading down the hall toward his apartment, he fished out his keys. A sudden tingling at the base of his spine drew him to the alert. His gaze fell to the door. The shiver increased, and all the hairs on his body rose. Drawing his off-duty gun, he nudged the door.

It inched open.

Shit. Releasing the safety, he drew in a deep breath and entered.

What he saw was like a punch in the gut and winning the lottery rolled into one. There was a beautiful woman in his apartment. Score. That beautiful woman wasn’t human. Fail.

Sitting on his counter, as if she belonged there, Lily unfurled one leather-encased leg. A brief smile appeared, and then she was off the counter and in front of him before he could blink. Before the second blink, she had him disarmed.

Jesus H. Christ, this woman was a pain in his ass.

“They didn’t teach you that at the academy, did they?” she taunted, turning the barrel of the gun on him.

He held onto his bag of groceries even though he wanted to throttle her. He had never been disarmed before, and his heart raced at the fact that she now pointed his gun straight at his forehead. He gritted his teeth. “What are you doing in here?”

She cocked her head to the side, smiling sweetly. “We had a date tonight, didn’t we? At around eight? That was an hour and a half ago. I don’t like to wait.”

He ignored that. “How did you get in?”

“I picked your lock.”

“That’s breaking and entering.”

She smirked. “I don’t care.”

“I could have you arrested in a second,” he threatened in a low voice.

Her lips twitched again. “I’d like to see you try.”

He stared at her silently. From the way her green eyes blazed and the fact that her arm did not waver, he knew she was not bluffing. “I don’t like a gun pointed in my face.”

“Neither do I, and you keep pointing it at me.” Her gaze dropped to the bag he was holding. Glancing down, he removed a loaf of bakery bread, spaghetti noodles, and sauce. Then she flipped the gun, offering it to him handle first. “We’ve gotten off on a bad start, haven’t we?”

He looked at her warily. Wearing a tank top and tight leather pants that hugged her legs and ass, she appeared every bit the badass he knew she could be. Funny, she was the kind of girl that usually had him going wild. But all he felt was…reluctant amusement.

He took the gun from her, sliding it back into the concealed holster. “You didn’t have to come here.”

She watched him continue to unload the bag. “You didn’t come to us. We had no other choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” he said.

“The problem with that ideology is that you’re thinking on the human level of things.” She paused, pursing her full lips. “You accept what I am, but you don’t accept what you are.”

“I’m nothing like you.”

Sighing, she placed her elbows on the counter. “You know, your story is no different than any of ours.”

He set the jar of sauce in front of her hands and studied her closely. The mass of hair had parted, falling forward and baring her shoulders to him. Inked in deep black, two wings sprouted from the base of her spine. From what he could see of the intricate tattoo, each wing spread to the edge of her shoulder and then swept downward to disappear under the band of her top.

A sudden urge to reach out and run his fingers over the fine lines etched into her skin was almost too hard to ignore. He clenched his fists, then picked up the spaghetti. “I doubt our stories are the same.”

She supported her chin with her folded hands. “Let me take a guess. Your mother committed suicide. You’ve never met your father. Blah…blah…blah.”

He froze, feeling the skin between his brows puckering. “Don’t go there.”

“Listen, Michael. We’ve all been there. My mother and Luke’s mother?” she said softly. “All of our mothers died by their own hand, and none of us have ever had the misfortune of meeting our fathers.”

He slammed the container of spaghetti down. The edges of the box split, spewing uncooked noodles across the counter. “My family is not something I will ever discuss with you.”

She leaned back, staring at the noodles. “I know this is hard for you. I know every rational bone in your body is telling me to screw off, but there has to be some part in you that knows what you are. You sensed I was in here, didn’t you? You knew.”

“Not a single part of me believes I’m a damn half-breed whatever! Okay?” He swiped the noodles off the counter, and they bounced off the tile. “I’m never going to believe that.”

“You just don’t want to believe it, but you know it’s true. Do you want to know why your mother killed herself? It’s the same reason for all of our mothers! Loving an angel—a Fallen angel—drives you insane. It may only take days, or it may take years, but the end is always the same!”

He came around the counter, hands balled into fists. “Get the hell out of my apartment!”

She didn’t move. “Michael, you have to listen to me!”

He stepped up to her. Damn, he was a good foot taller and probably had a hundred pounds on her, but the little thing held her ground. She had balls. He’d give her that. “Get out—” He stopped, going cold for no reason, feeling off-balance. It was the way he had felt before opening the door to his apartment, but worse. Worse than when he saw that boy and heard him scream.

“Shit.” Lily’s eyes narrowed into thin slits as she reached into her back pocket, yanking out her cell. “Luke? Where are you? I have at least three minions and, I don’t know, two or three deadheads. Yeah, gotcha.” She snapped the phone shut, brushing past him. “Do the stairs in the hallway lead to the rooftop?”

He had already drawn his gun. “Yes. Why?”

Lily glanced at the gun. “I hope that has the kind of caliber that leaves a big hole.”

His insides tightened, and he swallowed. There was…something coming. Goddamn it all, he could feel it. The sensation slithered through him, leaving behind tendrils of dread. But the gun was a reassuring weight in his hand. “Why?”

“Because that gun isn’t going to do shit for what’s coming. We need to get out of here and now.”