Restraint (The Revelation Series Book 2) (19 page)

He swallows hard. “Um, I need to go. I mean, go shower. Yeah, shower.” With that
, he scatters out of the kitchen, quickly.
Okay.

After making
myself some breakfast and cleaning up the dishes, I head toward the guestroom to shower and dress. As I enter the hallway, I notice Asher’s bedroom door is ajar. Inquisitiveness gets the best of me as my eyes shift to the open slit. I see Asher sitting at his desk wearing only jeans.

His
bare chest glistens with drops of water from his shower. The tattoos stare back at me as if they want me to trace them with my tongue. I snap my eyes shut.
Eve, focus!
I walk quickly to my room and clean up with the coldest water I have ever used.

I throw
on my jeans, knee-high boots and black cotton shirt, pulling my thumbs through the holes in the sleeves before putting on the necklace Asher gave me. He had my aunt design it for me at Christmas. It’s a sterling silver feather lying on its side. I brush out my long, light brown hair, throw on some make-up and my favorite gloss and meet up with Asher in the living room. He’s put on a white t-shirt with his jeans and motorcycle boots. Leather bands are secured on each wrist.

“Keegan would like us to go down to flat one
. Some of the other clans are starting to trickle in and we need to be there to greet them,” he explains.

“Okay.” I
chew the inside of my cheek. At my nervous habit, he stalks over to me and rubs my bottom lip with his thumb, stopping the addiction.

Dipping his chin, he gives me his ‘it’s going to be all right’ face. “You’ll be fine, siren.” He
grabs my hand and tugs me toward the door, stopping right before he opens it. Asher turns his head to me, and smiles smugly before chuckling at my shyness.

As soon as
he opens the door, a black blur jumps at him. It’s squealing and forces him to release my hand. Whatever it was, bounded in so hard it pushed Asher against the wall. Panicked, I unsheath my daggers, ready to attack. Then I hear it speak and my stomach drops.

“Asher, baby, I’ve missed you
so much.” A female voice drifts over to me.

Pulling myself together
, I register a petite girl draped over him. Her waist-length, shiny, stick straight, black hair dangles over his hands, which are wrapped around her body. My eyes roam upward, from the side. All I see is hair and then her tongue down Asher’s throat. My blood begins to boil as Asher comes to his senses and pushes her back.

As if in a daze
, he shakes his head. “Morgana?”

Her
brown eyes look up at him through dark, long lashes as she bites her red lips with her perfectly white teeth.
Ugh, I hate her already.
“Miss me?” she coos.

At that, I clear my throat. Rather angrily. This seems to snap Asher out of his fog because
he shoots me a look with wide eyes then shifts his vision to my daggers and then Morgana. “Um, sure. It’s surprising to see you again.”
Really? That’s the best he can do.

She
scrunched up her nose. “You mean, a pleasant surprise, right?” Her red nails run over his chest. At the gesture, he moves toward me, signaling for me to deweapon myself.

I arch a brow.
“Er, Eve, this is Morgana. She’s with the Manhattan clan. Morgana, this is Eve Collins, my current assignment.”
Ouch. My current assignment. Insulting.

She snorts. “The human created by Heaven?”

“The one and only,” I reply coolly.

Morgana
takes a warrior stance. “You don’t look like anything special.”

I let my eyes scan her from
the bottom up. “Neither do you.”

Asher lets out an awkward breath. “We should get down to the flat to meet
with everyone.”

None of us move. “Okay, then.” Asher walks out the door to
ward the elevator. Leaving the drop-dead gorgeous gargoyle and me in a stare off. She huffs then brushes past me after him. I roll my eyes and follow them, clenching my hands around my crossed arms tightly so I won’t claw her eyes out.

We walk into the first
floor loft and everything is dark gray and black. The walls, the floors, even the modern leather furniture. Though the layout is similar to Asher’s, this floor feels more like headquarters than a home. Where the sunken room is in Asher’s place there is a conference room. It’s filled with people.

As soon as Callan sees me
, he rushes over, but not before his eyes widen in shock when he sees Morgana attached to Asher’s side like velcro.

“Hey
, cutie.” He pulls me into a bear hug and bends down, whispering. “All okay?”

I plaster on a fake smile and nod.
I notice McKenna snag Morgana into a big hug.
Of course they’re friends.

Callan wraps his arm around my shoulder and walks me into the room. Suddenly
, it goes quiet and everyone stops what they’re doing to stare at me. Abby moves to my other side.

“If you all would kindly take a seat, we can begin
,” Keegan states.

“Eves
, you can sit between Abby and I,” Callan offers.

“She will
sit by me,” Asher says, his voice full of authority. Very prince-like.

Callan gives him a pointed look then slides his eyes to Morgana and back to me. “All right.”

Asher moves toward me and places his hand on the small of my back. I move away without looking at him and without speaking, choosing the seat between Callan and Abby.

He’s
forced to take the last open seat between Morgana and McKenna. I smile to myself before I look up and see his pissed off face. I throw an angry smirk at him and in return he narrows his eyes at me.
Childish? Yes. Deserved? Absolutely.

Pleased with his seat choice
, Morgana smiles and looks up at him like a puppy dog.
Bitch.

Keegan begins.
“I’d like to start by welcoming and thanking each clan for joining us today. We know how busy everyone is and we’re grateful you’ve taken time to assist us with our latest assignment.”

Callan interrupts, “
And newest family member.” At his added statement, my heart soars. 

“
I’d like you to meet Eve Collins, daughter of Heaven. She’s under the protection of the London clan.” Keegan introduces me from the head of the glass table and my cheeks tint pink. “Asher is her protector.” At the declaration, Morgana snorts.
What the fuck is this gargoyle’s problem?

A heavy-set,
older bald man stands. Half of his face is hidden behind a long and thick red beard. His bright green eyes twinkle warmly at me and his round cheeks lift, enhancing the freckles that span the entirety of his face.

He bows to me. “
Dia duit, daughter of Heaven. I am Angus, head of da Irish clan, and Abby’s uncle.” Angus’s voice is gruff and heavily accented. He motions to his left. “My second in command, my son, Thomas.” At the introduction, a tall, lanky thirty-something guy stands. His hair is short and reddish blond, the same color as his petite beard. He’s wearing black jeans, a black hooded sweatshirt and a leather jacket over the sweatshirt. “Eve.” He nods toward me. I smile.

The young Irishman sits and another older gentleman stands. This one reminds me of a Viking.
His long gray beard and mustache hit the middle of his broad chest. He’s huge and muscular like a wrestler. He has blue eyes that match McKenna’s sapphire ones.

“
I am Griffin, or ‘Griff’ as me friends call me, ledah of da Scottish clan and McKenna’s kin. Me second en command, Sean.” His deep brogue booms. Sean stands. He is really tall and also very muscular. He has his hair shaved on each side of his head and a dirty-blond braid in the middle of his head that continues down his back that contains the rest of his hair.

He too bows to me. “Nice tae
meit ye, Eve.”

I smile
again and wave in return.

Finally,
an incredibly, hot and young, maybe late-twenties, African-American guy stands and turns his brown eyes to me. This guy could be a model. He’s so beautiful. Brown eyes smiles brightly and offers me his hand. “Hi, Eve. I’m Marcus, leader of the Manhattan clan.”

“Nice to meet you.”
I like him instantly.

“My second in command, Morgana
.” She waves wickedly at me as I shift my focus back to Marcus. He surprises me by offering an apologetic smile.

Asher begins to explain what
Priestess Arabella told us with regard to Lucifer and the Declan clan. Plans are divised for how to recruit informants and weed out those working with Deacon.

Callan leans
into my ear conspiratorially. “Eves, stop drooling over Marcus. You aren’t his type.”

“What do you mean
?” I whisper back.

“I think Asher or I tend to be more of what Marcus prefers
in a mate.” His eyes twinkle.

“Oh
.” I roll my eyes and meet Marcus’s brown irises as he winks.
Damn gargoyles.

After
being briefed and enduring a few hours of strategizing, we’re all taking a break while munching on the pizza Abby ordered. Of course, Morgana hasn’t left Asher’s side. I internally cringe at her desperation.

I scrunch my napkin up
heatedly. “How could he not tell me he had a girlfriend?”

Abby’s eyes widen. “You mean Morgana? Eve, she isn’t his girlfriend.”

“Mate-to-be?” I ask.

Abby shakes her head. “
Eww, no. They have a history but it’s been over for forever now.”

I cross my arms
. “That’s not what it looked like when she jumped him at his front door.”

Abby laughs. “Well, s
he is a lover of the dramatics. She’s really close to McKenna.”

“Of course she is
.” I sigh.

I look up to see Asher watching me
. Something flashes across his face that I can’t quite place. His indigo slits just stare at me as he begins to move toward me, his eyes never leaving mine. My hands close into angry fists as I take a step back, needing to retreat.

He stops
within a breath of me, the tip of his nose brushing mine. My breathing has ceased as his eyes hold mine, searching.

In
a low voice, he bends near my ear. “Are you jealous, siren?”
Crap. He heard Abby and I.

I
bark out a short laugh. “No.”

His head cocks
to one side as a smug smile appears on his lips. “Really?”

“Yes.” My hand
s become numb from how hard I’m clenching them.

He reaches for me and I sidestep his grasp. The last thing I want or need is
his touch. He straightens and glances at me, perturbed.
Good, he should be.

“You should get back to your girlfriend.” I look ov
er his shoulder at Morgana. She’s shooting daggers my way. “Although, she might not be so understanding about what happened between us during your last stone state.”

Asher’s
expression hardens. “Come. With. Me.” He growls and grabs my elbow, dragging me from the room, down the hall and out the door toward the elevator. He doesn’t speak the entire time. He just pulls me like a rag doll behind him, up the elevator to the fifth floor, through the hallway, slamming the door shut behind us.

Roughly
, he pushes me against the wall. He lifts his hands and pins on either side of me, caging me in as his lips descend on mine in a punishing and painful expression of his sentiments. The length of his muscular body presses against me as his knee finds its way in between my legs.

After a mind blowing,
long kiss, he snaps his head back only to move his lips forward again, nipping at my bottom lip. This time, he doesn’t soothe the pain he’s causing.

Asher
moves his hands from the wall to the sides of my head, holding me in place so I’m forced to look at him. His breath on my lips, he says, “Let me be very clear about something, siren. She means nothing to me.” His voice is hoarse. “You. Mean. EVERYTHING!” he whispers, enunciating each word.

That’s the second time in about a minute he’s taken my breath away. I just stare at him, stunned
, while we catch our breath and he tries to rein in his emotions. I close my eyes and move my head up and down. “I believe you.” I pant across his lips.

I
feel him slowly relax. His hands loosely tangle in the hair at each side of my face while his thumb rests on my swollen lips. I latch onto his arms and allow my tongue to dart out and lick his thumb. Swallowing, he bends his finger so it’s in my mouth, allowing me to close my lips around it. Twirling my tongue over the tip and sucking it. Asher lets out a primal rumble.

Someone begins knocking at the door. “Asher? It’s Marcus. I need to speak with you.”

Asher closes his eyes before he lets out a long breath. “Fuckkkkk.”