Revelation (15 page)

Vorvian had lied, of course, the sly way demons twisted their promises. She’d died in childbirth a year later, her husband a cruel man who cared nothing for her. But it was too late. She’d cursed her own soul to hell, and it was lost forever.

In his aerie, Lune forced his stinging eyes open. Moonlight glared, a harsh certainty that galvanized his heart with cold determination.

The grief was dulled, after centuries. The agony muted. But the guilt never faded.

He’d loved her. She’d trusted him. And he’d let Vorvian turn her into a monster, just for spite. He’d never forgive himself. And he couldn’t let it happen again. Not to Morgan. Not to anyone.

But it was too late to leave Morgan behind. And too late to pretend he felt nothing for her. He’d known her only a few hours, and already she tantalized him. Turned him on. Made him laugh, for fuck’s sake.

Jesus Christ on a jelly sandwich.
Lune tugged his hair, rough. Him and his bleeding heart. Michael would laugh his righteous blue ass off.

Could he protect her, when he’d so badly failed to protect Eleanor?

He’d just fucking well have to try. And Quuzaat, the dirty hellshit they hunted, would never find out how Lune felt about her. He’d be cold. Distant. Professional. Keep his eyes and his hands off.

What was it Japheth always said?
Think about clubbing baby seals?
He’d imagine enough cute-ass little seals to make himself puke, if that’s what it took.

Dashiel nudged him, and Lune snapped back to reality. “Huh?”

“I said, don’t flake on me, man. I need you. Go jerk off and
forget about her. Or fuck her and get it over with, I honestly don’t care. Just man up.”

Lune shrugged, tight. Dash meant well, but he honestly didn’t get it.
Fuck her and get it over with
was an oxymoron. “I’m good.”

Dash eyed him a moment, then clapped his shoulder. “Good. Now tell me about these god-rotted imps. You never said anything on the phone about being attacked.”

Lune shook himself, settling his wings, trying to get his mind on the job. “Right. Yeah. In the morgue. A bunch of baby hatewraiths. They came through the ceiling, right on top of us.”

Dash frowned. “So how’d they find you? You were there for what, ten minutes?”

“I flashed a little glory. Maybe they smelled it.”

“What kind?”

“Just a sigil burn…make that two sigil burns. And an immolation.”

“To a hatewraith? That’s like lighting a match a mile away in the sun. Doesn’t seem likely. Anyone follow you there?”

Lune shrugged. “Didn’t sense anyone. Hell, maybe they were passing by and got a whiff of me.”

“Yeah, right. I didn’t inhale, either. Who knew you were going to the good doctor’s morgue?”

“No one. I was hunting for Ithiel, and that’s where I tracked him. Maybe the imps were watching his body, seeing who showed up. They could belong to Quuzaat. I asked one, but the fucker died on me.”

“The bastard.” Dash grimaced. “Unconvinced, old boy. Let’s keep an eye out, eh?”

“Sure. But it’s just a bunch of imps. Suspicious much?”

Dashiel sighed. “I dunno. Something Mike said, it…unsettled me.”

“Michael, unsettling?” repeated Lune dryly. “Well, there’s a surprise. C’mon, Dash, lighten up. It’s only the end of the world.”

White light flashed, a fragrant breeze. He turned, and if he hadn’t been so tense, his jaw would have hit the floor.

Morgan was back. And she looked…He swallowed. She looked fucking amazing.

She’d ditched the skirt and blouse for crisp black jeans and a black t-shirt. Those sexy lace-topped stockings were gone, but
it didn’t matter because those jeans licked every luscious curve. Right up to her ass, which swelled proud and gorgeous. He wanted to take a bite out of it, pop it like a juicy berry. She’d strapped the spelled knife to her right thigh, and it made the smooth lines of her muscles stand out. She wore black ankle boots with a low chunky heel, and her calves looked sensational.

As for the rest of her…He gulped, parched. Her shining dark hair was brushed, and curls spilled from a clip near the base of her neck. No make-up, but she didn’t need it, her lips full and rosy, her dark amber eyes sparkling. Her t-shirt hem kissed her silver belt buckle and the low-rise waistband of her jeans, offering him a tantalizing glimpse of smooth creamy hip and belly, and the scooped neckline showed her delicate feminine throat and revealed stunning cleavage he wanted to slide his tongue into. The t-shirt was tight enough to stretch just a bit over those beautiful firm breasts, and tiny little peaks showed.

His dick stirred, hardening. Yeah, he was staring at her nipples. That was very uncool. But he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t forget how rosy pink they were. Couldn’t stop remembering how they’d tasted, how she’d moaned as he sucked on them…

“Fuck,” he muttered, and spun away, flushing. Sure, keeping his cool around her would be easy. All she had to do was turn up in jeans and a t-shirt, and he was aching for her. Heaven help him if she started flirting with him again.

Taking her with you to fight demons? Awesome idea, Lune. What could go wrong?

He gritted his teeth. Nothing would go wrong. He’d make sure of it. And if that meant he had to fight his longing to touch her—resist his burning need to hold her, consume her, lay her down and make her his own—then so be it.

Morgan gasped, lightning crackling through her body, and her feet hit the floor in Luniel’s apartment once more. Her head swam, dizzy, and then it righted. Amazing.

Jadzia loosened her grip around Morgan’s waist. “Okay?”

“Sure.” Morgan tidied her hair, self-conscious. Luniel was staring at her again. Did she look okay? Jadzia had flashed them to Morgan’s dark apartment, and once she’d gotten over the
impossible shock of near-instantaneous travel—she’d never watch
Star Trek
again without recalling that warm flash of light, the hollow in her stomach, that horrifying dark instant before she reappeared—she’d hurriedly changed her clothes, not wanting to keep anyone waiting. She’d grabbed the nearest comfortable thing.

And Luniel stared at her like she’d turned up naked.

Now, he turned away, and Dashiel walked over to her. Jadzia drifted off, and Luniel fluttered to his loft and didn’t come down.

Morgan managed a smile for Dashiel. “I’m ready…I guess.”

Dash just studied her, his teasing brown eyes for once thoughtful.

She fidgeted. “What?”

“You like him, don’t you?” Dash spoke softly, so no one would hear, but with an edge demanding honesty.

She clasped her hands, a shield. “I…I suppose so. We only just met…”

“You suppose so, or you know so?”

She opened her mouth, and shut it again.

Dash sighed, ruffling coffee-dark wings. “Yeah. Okay. Look, he won’t ever say this, so I’ve gotta. Will you go easy on him?”

“What?” Luniel had come on to
her
. Like a hurricane. Well, maybe she’d flirted a little…

“He hasn’t had the best of luck with the ladies. Things go wrong for him, and people get hurt. Now he’s met you, and he’s a little nervous. Cut him some slack.”

“I, uh…” She cleared her throat. Too sudden. Too soon. Too much. “I don’t understand. Did he say something to you?”

“Not exactly.” Dash leaned closer, curling his wings to hide the two of them from view. His feathers smelled of fresh air and earth. “You gotta understand that Lune’s a simple guy. He dives in over his head. If you mess with him, I promise you, you’re messing with his heart. And I can’t have that.”

Morgan swallowed. Luniel seemed so self-assured. So strong. “So who are you, big brother?” She winced. She’d forgotten Ithiel.

“I’m the closest one he’s got who gives a shit.” Dashiel’s eyes fired scarlet. “So take your games elsewhere, if that’s what they
are. Don’t flirt with him unless you mean it. Not if you don’t wanna piss me off.”

She bristled, but fear tingled her guts, too. What happened in the bathroom had felt…intense. But had they started something? Not sure she wanted that. Not sure she didn’t want it. “I’m sorry, but it’s none of your—”

“Everything’s my business when it concerns my people.” Dash’s feathers sparked angry red. “So if you don’t want what he thinks you’re asking for? Back off, Dr. Sterling. Now. Before he follows you over a fucking cliff into hell.” He smiled, bright and charming. “Okay?”

“Lune.”

In his loft, Luniel dug tense fingers into the cushion in his lap. He’d come here to get some air, and so he didn’t have to listen to Dash embarrass him in front of Morgan. For a few moments’ peace.

Apparently not.

He stood, tossing the cushion aside. Moonlight shafted through the open skylight onto the bed, and blood-scented breeze lifted his feathers. He had a perch, too, where sometimes he liked to sit and dream, but mostly he liked to curl up on a heap of cushions to sleep, his wings folded around him.

Not that he’d be getting much fucking sleep this week, the way things were shaping up.

He sighed, and turned. “Hey, Jaz.”

Jadzia perched on the bed’s edge, and involuntarily he recalled the sight of her asleep on her belly in the dark cushions, her pale hair mussed, creamy wings soft along her naked back. She’d looked pretty there, drenched in the fading silver glitter of their love. But…distant. Absent. Even while she slept.

She tilted her cool blue gaze up. “I see you’ve found a new friend.”

“Jaz—”

“I really don’t mind what you do, Lune. She seems nice. I’m just a little disappointed you didn’t bother to tell me it was over between us before you started fucking another woman.”

“I am
not…”
His fists clenched, and he lowered his voice. “I am
not
fucking her. I’ve known her for an hour. C’mon, Jaz,
give me some credit.” Not that he deserved it. He should have talked to her. Heaven, he hated this part.

“But it is over, isn’t it?” She tried to cover it, but green sadness darkened her eyes.

He bit his lip, sick, and sat beside her. “Don’t be like that. You know I worship you. We all do. But—”

“But I’m not worth keeping.” She laughed, and looked away, but not before he saw shimmering tears. “It’s okay, I’m not here to give you a hard time. I just…” She sniffled, and tugged her hair into a frustrated handful. “Fuck.”

Lune took her other hand and kissed it, awkward. How many times had he made this speech? The fact that it was true didn’t make it any easier. “Listen to me, Jadzia. You’re an amazing woman. You’re beautiful and you’re clever and you sure as hell kicked my ass on the sparring field last time we had a go. And you’re sexy, heaven help me. We…y’know, had a good time. I wouldn’t unhappen it for the world.” He took a careful breath. “But look me in the eye and tell me you felt anything. C’mon, be honest. It was nice, but…”

She folded her fingers around his, a ghostly smile haunting her lips. “Yeah. I know. Nice, but.”

“So let’s leave it be. You deserve better. Somewhere among all us hundreds of guys who think you’re a goddess”—a brighter smile,
thank you, heaven
—“is the one who’ll knock you flat, Jaz. Wait for that. It’s worth it.”

She wiped her nose. “I guess you know, huh.”

His heart stung, sharp. Eleanor was gone. He could never replace her. Fate wasn’t that kind. But did that mean he shouldn’t try? Stiffly, he nodded, just once.

Jaz tried another smile, and he reached out to hug her.

But she flittered to her feet. “Thanks. I know you mean it.” She wiped her face with her feathers. “But I’m no good at being alone. This Tainted thing is…well, I can’t just grin and bear it, like you guys can. I guess I stopped expecting to be swept off my feet a long time ago.”

“Jaz, I’m sorry.”

“I’m lonely, Lune.” Her eyes gleamed bright with sorrow. “And you’re my friend. Being with you was…sweet. Let me mourn it.” And before he could speak, she vanished.

Wow, that was fun.
Lune sighed, guilty. Shoulda known better. Story of his life.

He raked his hair loose, forgetting he’d already clipped it back, and had to spend a few seconds tying it up again. He focused on his reflection, trying to center his thoughts. His dark mood had spilled over into his eyes, shadowy and dangerous. Armor, angst and attitude: check. Time to get on with it.

He swooped down from the loft. Dashiel was gone, too. Only Morgan, in that goddamned sexy black outfit, running her fingers along the marble kitchen bench top, waiting for him. Moonbeams danced in her hair, kissing her berry lips with shine.

His stomach sank. Had she heard all that? Awesome. No, seriously. This night just got better and better. “You ready?” he said gruffly.

She looked up, startled. “Oh. Sure, I guess. Where are we going?”

Be casual, Lune. Relax. Forget about it.
“You tell me. How do we find this zero point?”

She swung on one foot. “I need to go back to the lab. My files. I have an after-hours key. We might have to sneak in past my boss, though. And security. I mean, we broke the window, and the ceiling fell in. They’ll have found that.”

“Your boss work in your lab?”

“No.”

“Not a problem, then.” He grinned. “Let me beam you up, Scotty.”

“Thought you couldn’t do two people at once.” Challenge shone in her eyes. She’d already flashed with Jadzia. Did she really think he couldn’t do the same, or better?

“That was then. I was incapacitated. This, my lovely doctor, is now.” He offered her his arm with a flowery bow. She didn’t move. “You’ll, um, have to come closer.”

She swallowed, and stepped nearer.

His skin prickled hot, and his mouth watered with her feminine honey-spice scent. Fuck, she smelled good.

“This okay?” She licked shining lips, her brows arching in amusement. But apprehension hovered there, too. Lune could smell it, salty. What did Dash say to her?

“Turn around,” he murmured. She did, and he wrapped his
arms around her. So warm and fragrant, her breasts soft against his forearms.

He resisted the urge to press his body into her, relieve the aching pressure.
Might as well get used to it, Lune. This is as close as you’re getting.

Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it while it lasts.