A Slither of Hope Page 13

  At the same time, Kade said, “You wish.”

  “They talk alike, they think alike, heck, they even drink alike,” I joked.

  “Stop trying to change the subject,” Kade said, glaring at me through the rearview mirror.

  “Thanks again, Cam, for getting me out.” I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at Kade.

  “I almost didn’t.”

  “Excuse me?” I blew out a frustrated breath, sounding more and more like Kade all the time. “What am I talking about, of course you were going to leave without helping. Oh, so that’s why you did nothing when I blew past you with a cop on my heels.”

  “You did what?” Kade pulled out into traffic. “You could’ve stopped this before we had to influence an entire police station?”

  Cam looked out his window. “With everything going on, I thought maybe with the police would be the safest place for her.”

  “Traitor,” I mumbled before curiosity got the better of me. “So what changed your mind, traitor?”

  “A phone call.”

  I wasn’t going to ask. Really, I wasn’t, but the silence in the car took on a whole new thickness. “Do tell whose kindly phone call saved my ass, since you would’ve let me rot in a mental hospital.”

  “Elyon.”

  Kade swerved in his lane. The bumps dividing lanes vibrated the car before he corrected the wheel and pulled in front of our building.

  Our. Building. For someone that was quite vocal about not trusting Cam, my roommate of sorts was having a serious lack of judgment at the wrong time. Why else would he bring Cam here?

  Kade and I exchanged glances in his mirror. He gave a curt nod. “Go on up. I’ll find a place to park.”

  Cam opened the passenger-side door and flipped the seat down so I could get out. I placed my hand on Kade’s chair to get some leverage so I could scoot out.

  Kade pulled my arm in front of his chest, drawing me close. His leather jacket looked clean, but still held a faint tinge of dirt around the cuff and smelled of redwood. In contrast, his skin smelled clean and light. “I want to know every word he says.”

  “Got it,” I said.

  “Now go get yourself away from prying eyes.”

  I turned my face to hide the blush in my cheeks and inched out, closing the door behind me.

  “This is us,” I said to Cam, fishing in my pocket for my keys. “Why did Elyon’s call change your mind about me?” I pushed the door open and fought the sticky lock for my key back.

  “He pulled me off your dad. I’m your Protector now.”

  “What?” I almost tripped over the first step, but caught myself on the railing. My thighs were still burning after the race I’d lost at the hospital. “Cam, no. What about my dad?”

  “Your father will be in good hands. He’s put another Protector on him. Elyon believes you should be the priority now.”

  Oh great. Of course the killing angel would take an interest in me.

  We climbed all four flights of stairs in silence. Turning the knob without needing a key, I opened the door to our apartment and followed Cam in, closing it behind me.

  Cam stood in the center of the room with his hands behind his back, his gaze circling like a vulture, taking everything in. “This is where you live?”

  “Yeah. Not all of us can afford gilded cages.”

  “With Kade?”

  “Yeah.” I dropped my keys into my pocket.

  “It’s unacceptable.”

  I spun on him. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “There’s only one bed.”

  Ugh. This again? “You’re as bad as Lee and Gina. What do you guys think goes on here?”

  Cam’s eyes narrowed.

  “Oh. Well it doesn’t. At all. Uh, never mind. Just forget it.” The tops of my ears heated like they were on fire. “So, you’re protecting me. That must mean I’m in some serious trouble.”

  “Indeed.” He browsed the narrow bookshelf between the recliner and the nightstand.

  “How big?” I waited for an answer that never came. “The trouble I’m in.”

  He abandoned the bookshelf to look at me. “Both sides see you as an advantage, an upper hand. One we’ve never had before. Angels and Fallen are flocking to the city with nothing but you on their minds.”

  I slid off my wig and placed it on the dresser. “Why is everyone so stuck on the fact that I can see them? If we could please get over this little fact my life would be so much easier.”

  Cam blinked at the sight of my real hair. “Elyon is focused on you. I don’t know what to do about him.”

  I pulled my now flat hair back in a ponytail and secured it with a hair tie I kept on Kade’s dresser. “He must still trust you if he gave you the task he has a hard-on for.” Cam blanched at my choice of words. “Sorry. I’ve been spending way too much time around Kade. What, uh, happened with that angel that followed you to Muir Woods? Was it Elyon?”

  “I never found out who it was, but I know for a fact it wasn’t Elyon. He would never have let Kasade walk away that night. If I had to guess, it was another under his wing. He’s called several of my brothers into this fray.”

  “Did he say anything about meeting with us that night?”

  Cam shook his head. “No. Which means he doesn’t want me to know he had me followed.”

  “Does that mean this place will be swarmed by angels?”

  Cam shook his head again and stepped to the side half an inch. “He’s been keeping his intentions toward you quiet. I only know because I’ve been listening, watching. He says you’re important because of your sight, but there’s more he isn’t saying. In all honesty, I’m struggling with trusting him. He’s my superior in every sense of the word and I’m keeping important information from him. It isn’t easy, Rayna.”

  I knew what it was like to live a lie. “I’m sorry you have to do this for me.”

  “It’s necessary. Elyon is keeping things from me as well. Which reminds me.” From the inside of his gray jacket Cam pulled out a thin set of folded papers with staples in the middle. The edges were frayed and the paper had yellowed, but I knew a book when I saw one. “He wanted me to give you this.”

  “What is it?” I turned the book over in my hands to find it had no writing on the cover.

  “It’s the truth about our kind. The Lost Apologues.”

  I had no idea what apologues were, so I leafed through the book. It was written in English; granted, it was in a much more formal style than I was used to, and almost every twelfth word was angels, wings, or feathers. I tore my eyes away from the pages. “This is some kind of angel bible.”

  Cam nodded, placing his hands over mine and using them to close the book. “Tales of our kind, stricken from the record books centuries ago. Elyon wanted you to have it, which proves there is some good still in him. I will take care of what Elyon knows about you and what he doesn’t. All I ask is that you trust me.”

  “And how’s she supposed to do that when you’re working for the angel of death?” Kade asked when he entered the room.

  I backed away from Cam who blocked Kade’s view of what was between our hands and slid the book behind my back. I’d asked Kade every day to tell me about the angels and the Fallen. He’d had a month and had told me nothing. I didn’t know why he was so against me knowing, but instinct told me he wouldn’t be happy about anything Elyon wanted me to have, especially this book. The Fallen had his chance, now maybe it was time for the angels to explain a few things.

  “Is Elyon really the angel of death?” I asked, knocking over an empty cup on Kade’s side of the bed. When I scooped to pick it up, I slid the book under the bed.

  “That’s a myth,” Cam said.

  “But he can kill,” Kade added. “And he does.”

  “Without Falling?” I stood up, trying my best not to fidget.

  “It’s the sword he uses,” Kade said. “It lets him give his victims any cause of death he pleases.”

  “Even with the sword, h
ow does he not Fall?”

  “The work that he does is unlike what any of us can do,” Cam explained, trying not to eye the bed and disturb his very modest angel sensibilities. “Elyon was created with this purpose in mind. Not all conflicts can be handled by regular angels. When they can’t, and it’s very rare, he’s called down to dissolve the situation.”

  “Dissolve? That’s what you call it when an angel, sanctioned or not, kills someone?” I asked, feeling bolder now that Kade was back. Cam didn’t say a word this time. “And I’m assuming we’re talking about humans here and not Fallen.”

  “His work is very important. I won’t have that tarnished.”

  “He’s a murderer,” Kade all but shouted.

  “So. Are. You.” Cam’s eyes narrowed a little with each word.

  Uh oh. I stepped between them. “We have to live here,” I told Kade, reminding him an angel/Fallen fistfight inside our apartment wasn’t the best idea. Especially seeing as how they took out a section of ancient forest without so much as breaking a sweat.

  “Rayna, what happened to your wing?” Cam asked, his fingers barely touching the raw bald spot near the end.

  I turned in a full circle, gently slapping away his hand. “Oh, that. It’s a funny story, actually.”

  “One we’re dying to hear.” Kade walked passed us and plopped into his favorite chair.

  “I cut myself upstairs.”

  “Big surprise,” Kade murmured while kicking his feet up on his end table.

  “And a feather from my wing practically healed it. See?” I stripped off my jacket and yanked back my sweater sleeve to show Cam (the only interested party) the cut from the corner of the planter box. “How come no one told me our feathers heal wounds? Is that how you guys heal so fast?”

  “No.” Cam looked from me to Kade and back again. “Our wings don’t heal anything. We just naturally heal faster than humans.”

  Great. So, once again, I’m the freak in this situation.

  “That’s…why I went to the hospital. I thought if one could heal a scratch, maybe a handful could heal my dad.”

  Kade’s sigh filled the room. It wasn’t the frustrated, angry sound I expected. “Just don’t leave here again, okay? It’s getting worse out there. There are Fallen everywhere. And there’s no telling what they’d do if they got their hands on you.”

  “So, don’t trust the angels. Don’t trust the Fallen. Got it.” I was hiding stuff from both Cam and Kade. But I sure wished there was someone out there I could trust.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Kade

  She was hiding something from me. I felt it even before I watched her slip The Lost Apologues under the bed. I’d read that book cover-to-cover so often I could quote the damn thing.

  I bore right on the church’s street corner, crumpling a doctored photo of Ray in my hand.

  She had no idea the lengths I’d gone to in order to keep her out of Lucifer’s clutches. And the worst part was I couldn’t even tell her. I wanted to, though. It might scare her straight and keep her cute little ass inside.

  Camael had his own agenda where Ray was concerned, too, and I didn’t trust the white-winged traitor as far as I could throw him, especially with Elyon in the picture. The thing about Protector angels and their superiors was that nothing short of Falling tore a rift in that kinship.

  If he was still there when I got back, I could always try knocking his head off his shoulders again. That had been fun, despite the mud. Giving him unlimited access to Ray by showing him where we lived wasn’t my brightest idea, but it had to be done. He may not have been my first choice, but he’d give his life to keep hers safe.

  I stopped just beyond view of the church. A vortex of emotion knocked into me, sucking the will from every pore in my body. This was getting bad. Worse than last time. If I didn’t get in and out, I was in trouble. But with any luck at all, I’d never have to face those four again. Otherwise I was afraid of what I might turn into. The bond, the need to be bonded to a coven, was strong.

  Just one more time, then I could put them in my rearview for good.

  “Kasade,” Sorath said in greeting, “I wondered when we’d see you again.”

  “Just couldn’t stay away,” I said through gritted teeth.

  The three unknown Fallen remained in their seats, their eyes down. A gesture of respect. Obviously Sorath had been doing some talking since I left.

  “To what do we owe this honor?”

  This round of bullshit had better work. “A friend emailed me this picture.” I flattened the photoshopped printout between my palms. “I thought it might be of interest to you.”

  Sorath looked at the picture of Ray standing in a gas station convenient store with her back to the camera, tiny gray wings on display. Then he snatched it from my hand. “Where was this taken?”

  “Off of highway five, about a-hundred-eighty miles south.”

  “When?”

  He was taking the bait. I schooled my face into a mask. “Sixteen hours ago. There’s a timestamp in the lower right-hand corner and I wrote the address on the back. She’s got a good head start, probably running for the border.”

  All around me my world was being pulled in two different directions. Wanting to stay and needing to leave. This would all be worth it when Sorath packed up this band of merry misfits and headed for Tijuana.

  Sorath held on to the picture, turning it over in his hand. Being this close to him kicked up the scent of cheap cigar tobacco. I remembered him burning one of those God-awful monstrosities after every battle we won. I also remembered him closing a few wounds with them too.

  He dialed his cell phone and waited for an answer. “I’ve got a tip that our gray-winger is on her way down to you. How reliable is the source?” He repeated the question for my benefit, looking me over and taking his sweet fucking time doing it. “Not sure. I do have a piece of photographic evidence though. I’ll fax you over what I have and you can check it out.”

  Ancient Warriors with technology. It didn’t surprise me. I’d learned to Photoshop, so why couldn’t Sorath use a cell phone and fax? But I didn’t anticipate it going down like this. I didn’t factor in him sharing the possible glory of a capture and contain with another coven. Not in a million years.

  Fuck.

  “Kasade.” Sorath handed the ravaged photo over to one of the three who disappeared further into the basement. “Where did you say this picture came from?”

  “I told you—”

  “Who did it come from, not where?” he bellowed.

  “A friend. Someone I keep in contact with. Someone like me.”

  “Another coven-less rebel.” He ground out a laugh. “Why would you bring this to my attention?”

  The weight of his nearness hung heavy around my muscles like a snare. I hadn’t prepared for this. His question left me feeling unbalanced, out of sorts. “They lost a brother.” I gestured to the two nameless Fallen in the room with my chin. “This came to my attention.”

  “But why help a coven you refuse to join, Kasade?”

  Good damn question. Yes, I’d said I wouldn’t join them. No way I’d change my mind on that one. So what was my play here?

  “I’m not made of time.”

  “The lure,” I blurted. “Being here that night, with all of you, it made me realize what I’ve been missing.”

  Sorath’s eyes contracted. “So this is a peace offering?”

  What a bucket of fuck I’d poured all over myself. “I haven’t changed my mind, Sorath. But when I saw this I couldn’t stay away.”

  The seriousness in his face broke when a small smile crept up his lips. “I’m wearing you down. Admit it.”

  I averted my eyes like a sheepish schoolgirl. I should be ashamed of myself. The things I do for that damn girl. “Maybe.” Doubtful.

  “You did good, brother. If she has moved, the L.A. coven will track her down. If she has gotten past them, Mexico City will be on alert as well.” The toothy grin I came to re
cognize as trouble when we were Warriors flashed across his face. “We should celebrate.”

  Celebration for Lucifer’s army consisted of murder, murder, and oh yeah, murder. “No thanks. I’m on a diet.” I turned to leave, my objective being met, but Sorath’s aura pulled me back in.

  “I don’t think so.”

  Against the will of my twitching muscles, I dipped my wing and looked over my shoulder. The Fallen that had left to fax the picture lumbered through the doorway with a group of priests and nuns following him.

  “Stay for the feast, Kade.” Sorath disrespected my chosen name by drawing it out the way he did.

  A soul cocktail of priests and nuns. Not a chance. I had to get out of here. Now.

  I leaned toward the exit. Not good when I swore I was bolting out the door.

  Heat and hunger permeated through me. Being around these former angels, whose sins might not be so different from mine, was like living in a gladiator arena, each enemy prepared to lob your head off at the first sign of treachery.

  I turned, snatched the back of the closest priest’s head, and tilted it back.

  I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

  His essence filled me the instant I opened my mouth. Something better than liquid, hotter than coffee filed down my throat. It was a river and an ocean all at once. Fire poker-hot on the outside and glacially cold through the middle. Nothing on Earth could compare. Nothing. Greedily, I gulped down more, feeling the man’s body shudder beneath my touch. Nothing could compare.

  The priest’s shaking intensified, pulling me out of my reverie. Don’t die on me now, buddy. You have so much more to give.

  I curled my fingers deeper into his shoulders and looked down at him. His pupils lulled back into his head. I closed my eyes again, wondering why the hell I looked at all. With my eyes closed, even with the priest’s essence still flowing steadily into me, all I could think about was one word.

  Love.

  Love? Well fuck me. That did it.

  I snapped my jaw shut. That was enough.

  A red hue saturated the room. The others were taking, stealing. And I wanted so badly to rejoin them, to continue with the priest until there was nothing left. I’d forgotten how sweet the good tasted; how it felt to be truly full, satisfied, not just sated. But that one human word hung my hunger out to dry. My heart twisted painfully. I used the distraction to my advantage and pulled the priest and myself out of there.