Craved: A Chosen Ones Novel (6 page)

“The Society doesn’t rank us across Sects,” I scoffed at his bluff.

He snorted in return. “Of course they do.”

“And you know that how?”

“Because I know a lot of things.”

It was my turn to snort. “I bet you think you do.”

I put two slices of pizza on the remaining plate and slid it in front of me. “Try the pizza, or not. I’m hungry and have no qualms about eating in front of those who are not.”

“That’s not very polite.”

“I have no qualms with that either.”

“Isn’t someone of your status supposed to have impeccable manners. Don’t people like you go to etiquette classes and have cotillions and shit?”

My hand stopped in mid-air on its way to shoving the steaming slice of pizza into my mouth. I sat it back down on my plate. “Whatever you
think
you know about me from reading the file Bennett gave you,
you
don’t.
People make asses out of themselves when they assume.”

Then I picked the pizza back up and got down to the business of eating it. I was officially done talking to the jerk in front of me.
 

He looked at me in the same amused manner as before. It was starting to become damn annoying. “Are you always this easy to niggle?”

“Yes,” I said matter-of-factly. “I don’t
do
people. I don’t even do partners, but the Brethren attack last night shut down any chance I had of weaseling out of getting you for a partner.”

His expression turned quizzical. “How so?”

I figured I might as well tell him. If we were going to be working together he at least had a right to know. “Bennett saw the puncture wounds in my neck earlier and I told him about the Brethren. The fact that I’d been attacked by one didn’t surprise him. To make a long story short, apparently there is a prophecy that the Archangel Michael himself…”

“Came to Earth to tell the Nephilim,” he finished for me.
 

My eyes widened. “How do you know that?! Bennett said himself and my father were the only ones who knew.”

“Because the Archangel made a stop in Orlando as well to help stack the odds against the Brethren. Specifically, he visited my mother and twelve other parents of Nephilim children in the Orlando sect. I thought we were the only ones, but I guess not though I’m not surprised. He has a habit of withholding information”

“Wait, what are you talking about?” I sputtered.

“The same thing you’re talking about I’d gathered.”
 
He sat quiet for a moment, regarding me from across the table. He was thinking about something, but what I had no idea. “But maybe not,” he finally said. “He is always moving various pieces into position on the board at once. Though he never deems to communicate to us what they are or what his plans for them are.”
   

My mind raced a thousand miles a minute trying to process everything he’d said and had not said. “Hold on. First, how is it even possible that you are speaking of Michael, an Archangel,
the
Archangel, as if you have up close and personal knowledge of him.”
 

He didn’t immediately respond. He sat across the table regarding me intently. I got the distinct feeling that he was considering something. Considering what he would tell me and which part of it would be truth and which would be lies. He glanced around at the few other patrons scattered about the restaurant then leaned over our table. His lips were so close to my ear that they brushed against them. I was about to jerk to the side or punch him in his jaw or both until I realized he meant to say something he wanted to make sure only my ears heard. Odd.
 

“We should talk, but not here. Ears could be listening. Let’s go to my place. It’s sound proof.”

I regarded him wearily, wondering if I should trust him. I didn’t know him. Plus, I was beginning to suspect that even the thick file Bennett had on him was a load of shit.
 

Who was this guy? And why had he really suddenly showed up in Atlanta? More specifically, why had he suddenly appeared in my life?
I thought back to what Bennett had said about the prophecy.
What if the attack by the Brethren wasn’t as much of a coincidence as Bennett thought? What if the hot guy with sapphire eyes sitting in front of me wasn’t a coincidence either? What if they were both connected?
I needed answers to every single one of those questions. Which is why I said, “Okay,” and left Little Azio’s with him.

“Make yourself comfortable.” The guy that was back to being a stranger motioned towards a couch against the one wall in his loft apartment that wasn’t a massive pane of glass. He stalked to the kitchen and opened the stainless steel fridge, holding up a Dos Equis over the top of its door. “You want one?”

“No, I’m good.”

He grinned at me. “I promise I’m not out to poison or roofie you. I’ll even take a drink out of it first then hand it over.”

“I feel like I will definitely need a drink by the time this conversation is over, but while in your presence I’d prefer to stay clear-headed. I don’t trust you.” No sense in putting on airs or beating around the bush. Might as well get straight to the point.

He shrugged, closing the fridge door. “That’s understandable.”

“I guess we should get down to business and get straight to the point.” His words were an echo of my thoughts as he came to sit on the couch beside me.
 

“That’s the only reason I’m here.”

He looked at me as if he wanted to say something, something that was tugging at the corners of his mouth, but he swallowed the words and turned his expression serious.
 

“My name is Chase Vincent like my file says. And I’m from Orlando. I was born, raised and grew up there. I am also technically a part of the Orlando Sect, but I am a member of a sect within the sect. We call ourselves the Chosen Ones. And yes, I know how pretentious that sounds, but that’s what you get when an Archangel names you. The Archangel you spoke of formed us twenty years ago. There are twelve of us in total and he told each of our parents that we had been hand picked by him to be his Chosen Ones. We were all no more than a couple of years old. He told our parents what an honor it was to have their children selected but he also swore them to secrecy promising violent repercussions if they divulged our existence. The twelve of us grew up in the Orlando sect like any other member of The Society would. At thirteen, we even began learning to fight daemons alongside the rest of our training class. Then three years later we were broken off from our peers. My mother has been the Sect Leader of Orlando since before I was born, and she doesn’t run it in quite the pseudo-democratic fashion that Bennett runs the Atlanta Sect. What she says goes, and she doesn’t ask for anyone’s input. She told the sect members that she’d deemed the twelve of us more advanced than our peers and were placing us in a special group to sharpen our considerable skills. She convenes with the Archangel in his incorporeal form frequently, and together they personally oversaw our training. It was then that him selecting us as his Chosen Ones were revealed to us along with the fact that our job wouldn’t be to simply patrol the city for daemons. The task he assigned to us was to hunt and kill the Brethren that are still on this plane. The real reason I happened upon you in Five Points last night was because I was tracking him the Brethren that attacked you. That is also the real reason I transferred to the Atlanta sect. The Archangel sent me here to deal with the city’s influx of Brethren. Now it’s your turn. If you’re not a Chosen One how does Bennett know about them? The Archangel claims we are the only ones who do and is insistent upon it staying that way.”

He was right. I did need a drink now.
 

“So did Michael tell you all, the Chosen Ones, about the prophecy?”
 

A beat ticked in Chase’s jaw. “No. The
Archangel
isn’t very forthcoming with information or answering questions. The jackass only tells you what he wants you to know.”

“Now that’s not very nice. I almost feel insulted Chase.”

Who and where in the hell had that come from?! I looked around the loft for the owner of the foreign voice, but drew up short seeing nothing.

Chase jumped to his feet and stood facing the fireplace built into the wall adjacent to the couch. His posture was rigid and his fists were clenched tight at his sides. He looked like he wanted to hit something. “You say that like I give a fuck.”

 
Then the fireplace lit itself and I was on my feet too. The outline of a face appeared in its flame. “You have a bad habit of toeing the line Chase. One of these days you are going to cross it and then I am going to have to do something about it.”

“If that was a threat it was a pathetic one. Getting rusty in your old age?I know you can do better.”

The flames shot out of the fireplace, making a ring around Chase’s feet. They licked at his lower half without actually singeing the white carpet. The shape his face contorted into made it clear he wasn’t as unaffected by them. My mouth moved open, perhaps to scream, but no sound came out. Then the flames jumped back into the fireplace place just as quickly as they’d jumped out.
 

“How is that for a suitable threat?” The disembodied voice echoed smugly throughout the apartment.
 

“What.Do.You.Want.” Chase bit off.

“For you to do your damn job,” the voice snarled. “Which, fortunately for you, you did not make a complete clusterfuck of doing correctly. The Nephilim knows about the prophecy now and the Brethren so you did not do much damage by revealing my Chosen Ones’ purpose. But
she
was considering telling you the details of the prophecy and that I cannot allow. It has too great a potential to alter events that I have already set in motion.”

Archangel or not, I blanched at how he knew what I’d been grappling with divulging to Chase when I’d asked a question, fishing to see how much of it he already knew.
 

The flames flared and I suddenly felt my body temperature rise by about ten degrees. It wasn’t painful. I didn’t feel as if parts of my body were being burned alive, but it sure as shit was not comfortable.

“I will be extremely displeased if you tell the Chosen One what you recently found out of the prophecy.”

Okaaay. That combined with my rapidly escalating temperature certainly did not sound good. His threat had been noted, but instead of nodding in acquiescence I clenched my teeth together and simply stared into the flames. I didn’t take well to demands being made of me or threats, no matter how capable the person making them was of backing them up. My body temperature ratcheted up another notch and I started feeling something more than discomfort. A tingling, then a slow burn caressed the surface of my skin. Sweat broke out along my brow line, but I held my position, refusing to offer any words of agreement or even a nod. A growl reverberated throughout the room so loud it left behind ringing in my ears. I felt a wet, sticky fluid prickle down my left lobe. I wiped my fingers across it and they came away stained red.
 

“You have been warned,” the voice boomed then it and the fire disappeared.
 

My knees buckled, but Chase caught me before I hit the ground.

“Are you alright?”

“No, but I will be. I guess
Supernatural
got the part about Archangels being dicks right. Are they all like that?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only ever had the pleasure of meeting the one. But he is definitely a bastard.” Chase circled one arm around my waist, guiding me into a sitting position on the couch.
 

“I think I’ll take that drink now,” I said with a shaky laugh. “But I’m going to need something much stronger than a beer.”

Chase walked to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of Jack Daniels and two shot glasses. “Is this strong enough?”

I nodded my head because words had slipped away from me.
 

He sat down on the couch beside me and filled the shot glasses to the brim with the dark amber liquor. I threw mine back at the same time he threw his. My chest burned as it went down. I wasn’t usually a dark spirits kind of girl. Silver tequila and white rums were more my speed. But beggars couldn’t be choosy. Chase refilled our glasses and we emptied them a second time.
 

We sat in silence for a minute. My mind was trying to wrap itself around a million and one thoughts and even more questions. After the alcohol had had time to settle into my bloodstream, slowing down my racing mind and fooling it into a state of relaxation, my brain was finally able to string together words into a complete sentence.

“How was M-“

Chase pressed against my side, clasping one hand over my mouth, cutting off the words I’d just barely found.
 

My eyes glittered into his with outrage.

He held my stare. “Don’t say
his
name. Saying it is the equivalent of providing him a one-way link into your mind.”

I nodded my head in understanding and he removed his hand. My lips tingled where his strong, lithe fingers had touched them.

“So
he
can still hear my thoughts?”

“No. Too much time has passed now. I’ve figured out, from testing his patience over the years, that the window into your mind saying his name provides him only last for a few minutes at most.”

“That’s scary and kind of freaky and entirely too much power for one being to have.”

“Agreed,” Chase responded dryly.
 

There was definitely history that existed between him and the Archangel. I curiously wondered at what it was, but then decided that it wasn’t my business to ask. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
 

“So, he’s like..good? Because he didn’t seem very angelic.”

“That’s because the Archangels are anything but if he is the standard to go by. They’re ruthless, self-important, manipulative assholes who use threats and force to make others bow to their will. I’m more than curious about why he is so adamant about you not telling me the details of the prophecy.”