Angel Bait (Angel Assassins #1) (8 page)

“Then report.”
Azriel, always so patient and accommodating
. Jarrid flipped his middle finger. Angels had an absurd ideal about timeliness. He wondered if Heaven had alarm clocks shoved up every feathered crevice.

“The target I iced mentioned seeing an angel in the city,” Jarrid said.

“What made the target’s information reliable?”

“The pointy end of a dagger tends to loosen tongues,” he said. “Before I carried out his sentence, the Elf volunteered the info.”

“Was there more?” The question came from Puriel. The angel was a wild card. He neither supported, nor denounced, the nephilim’s role in Heaven. Jarrid didn’t trust him. Puriel’s motivations were too hazy.

“No,” Tanis said. “I have the team searching for his Grace trail. It shouldn’t take long before he uses his powers. If we’re in range when he does, we’ll take him down.”

More murmurs filled the room. The din faded and Azriel spoke up. “We will assign the task to one of our officers.”

Over my bloated corpse
.

“We can handle this alone,” Jarrid said, his tone glacial.

“Oh? Is there something you’d like to share, half-breed?” Azriel’s voice snaked through the orb, slick with contempt. Jarrid crushed the air in a tight fist. He wished — not for the first time — he could pluck the feathers off the angel’s wings with a dagger.

“Tanis is right,” he said, the words muffled by the pounding in his ears. “When the Renegade uses his Grace we’ll triangulate and catch him. We know the city better than your officers. We’ll save time on our own.”

Another wave of conversation drifted through the orb as the Directorate debated. Tanis shot him a watch-your-ass warning glare. They both knew what was at stake. If Jarrid played this wrong, the board would send one of their loyal lackeys to secure the outlaw. Such an outcome would flatline his plans.

“We are in agreement,” Puriel said. “The Order has fourteen days to locate the target and bring him to us.”

Relief at the decision nearly crushed Jarrid.

Holy shit
. He’d landed the assignment.

“Listen well, half-breed.” Azriel’s cold tone captured his full attention. “A high value assignment turned over to the likes of you is against everything I believe. The board seems to have a weak spot for lost causes. I do not. You will bring us the Renegade in two weeks, or you will lose your place as Heaven’s servant.”

Tanis stiffened next to him. “What do you mean?”

“I would think our decision is clear,” Azriel said. “If the nephilim fails, he’ll be discharged from The Order.”

• • •

The call ended. Tanis placed the orb in its felt lined box and closed the lid. He slid it on a shelf then turned to regard the man who stood shell-shocked beside him. Jarrid’s usual fierce demeanor was replaced with uncertainty. The expression wasn’t one Tanis was used to seeing from any of his men, and certainly not the Order’s most prolific assassin.

He eased himself into his desk chair, leaving Jarrid to stand alone. The room’s light caught the harsh angles of his son’s face. To Tanis, it reminded him of the child he’d rescued from death centuries before. He didn’t resist the memories when they surfaced.

Angels swarmed over the tiny village, an army in glorious white and gold. Tanis spotted the boy after he’d landed in the backfields. From a distance, the child looked human. His skinny arms and legs seemed insufficient to support the weight of his body, but the boy’s refusal to run proved he was braver than any normal child. Tanis stalked toward him, two angel soldiers at his side, and was surprised when the child crouched into an attack position.

One of his soldiers barked a laugh. The other spat a curse and unsheathed his sword. The weapon hissed out of the scabbard, making the boy swallow. Yet he didn’t budge from his position. All around, cries filtered into the open air. The village was home to humans and Watchers who’d turned their backs on Heaven’s laws. Standing as close as he was, Tanis could see the child’s silver eyes shimmer.
Nephilim
.

He reviewed his orders. All Watchers were to be taken back to Heaven for punishment while their offspring and concubines were put to the sword. In villages around the world, the same scene played itself out. Now, it was his turn to enact Heaven’s commandment.

“Why do we wait?” Kaonos asked in Aramaic. “The abomination thinks to defy us.”

Tanis looked hard at the boy who held a piece of wood in one clenched hand and made a fist with the other. The child planned to fight them, perhaps knowing why they’d come. This defiance moved him. “What is your name, child?”

The boy studied him. “I won’t let you hurt my mother.”

Surprised, Tanis stepped back and again considered the tiny fighter. He sought to protect his mother. The boy owned a noble heart and a warrior’s soul. Two more traits he respected.

“You are nephilim,” he said. One of his soldiers spat at the ground.

“I am,” the boy said, his tone defiant. “I will not allow you to hurt my mother.”

Kaonos threw his head back on a laugh. “The whore will get what’s coming to her, be sure of that!”

The boy moved at inhuman speed. His wooden weapon flashed out, connecting with Kaonos’ unprotected head before Tanis could stop the attack. The soldier bellowed in rage, a trickle of blood sliding down his left temple. With a primal growl, Kaonos grabbed the boy by the throat and started to squeeze.

A woman with waist-length brown-black hair rushed out of a nearby shed. “Jarrid!”

Aean grabbed her. Tanis marked the same dark hair and high cheekbones. Her sun-kissed skin was a shade lighter than the boy’s, but both resembled each other.

“He’s done nothing wrong,” she cried. “He is an innocent.”

“This thing is a demon spawn, and you are the whore of a Renegade,” Aean said, his voice fueled by malice.

The woman turned pleading eyes on Kaonos, and then on Tanis. “I sinned. He did not. Please, masters of Heaven, spare my son. I freely give my life for his. Please, I beg you for mercy!”

Tanis had heard the pleas of countless men and demons during his service to Heaven. None moved him to act against his duty. Why should he feel anything for her and the boy? He looked at the child still struggling in Kaonos’ hold, his eyes focused only on the mother’s tear streaked face.

He felt … wrong. Throw him into the pits of Hell and make him battle hell spawn with his bare hands and he would do so without an afterthought. Send him to murder women and children … .

“Release him.”

Kaonos and Aean gasped.

“What? Do you mean to disobey our orders?” Kaonos sounded incredulous. The boy fell to the hard-packed earth.

Tanis’ wings flared wide and he knew the cold stare he leveled on the soldier would silence further questions. The woman stumbled to the boy’s side and scooped him into her trembling arms. She kissed her son, smoothing back his wild hair, while she whispered soothing words in his ear. In return, the boy — Jarrid — wrapped his thin arms around his mother in a fierce embrace while the death squad watched.

“Earth to Tanis.” He looked up to find Jarrid standing near him, arms crossed over his broad chest. Gone was the gangly youth who dared stand up to seasoned fighters. Yes, they’d come a very long way since their first meeting.

“You fuck up and you’re booted from the bubblegum gang,” Tanis said.

“Guess I won’t fuck up.”

“If they catch wind of what you’re up to, they’ll rip out your Grace one sliver at a time.”

Jarrid gave a lazy shrug and moved to the door. Whatever doubt his son had felt earlier was gone. The man’s spine was straight, his gait sure.

“Ionie will draw out the Renegade. Case closed.”

Tanis ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t like this.”

“She won’t get hurt on my watch. But don’t mistake me. I’ll use whatever I must to pull this off.”

“Like risking an innocent woman?” Tanis asked the question, but Jarrid didn’t answer. The nephilim who was once a scared boy walked out of the study, and left his mother’s killer standing alone.

Ionie couldn’t believe how odd the Stronghold seemed with its mishmash of modern conveniences, bygone decor, and men too handsome to be real. After Jarrid left with Tanis, gallant Cain offered her a tour of their home, complete with introductions to the other residents.

They found the first in the game room. His legs splayed across the couch while an Xbox controller took a beating from his oversized hands. Ionie didn’t know what game he played, but a string of curses told her he wasn’t happy with the outcome.

“For fuck’s sake, where the hell is the save point?”

Cain’s gentle hand touched her back. “That’s Kasdeja, the geeky one.”

She offered a smile. Slouched as he was, Kasdeja’s body swallowed the couch. “He’s huge.”

Cain’s throaty laugh rang out.

“Oh God, did I say that out loud?” she said, wincing. “I meant, he seems … ”

“Ginormous?” Cain luminous eyes held a hint of mischief. “I guess you never heard tales of the nephilim when you were a kid?”

She scanned her memories. “Biblical accounts of your kind are thought to be fairy tales. Other than scattered passages, I’m not sure there’s anything solid written about you.”

Her guide leaned against the wall. “Nephilim were wiped from the histories of Men. One or two bits slipped through the cracks, but most of the shit you’d find is pretty weak.”

“Like what?” She readied herself for some juicy insider information when she saw Kasdeja raise an eyebrow, stand, and plod over to them. Ionie paused to ogle the walking myth. Like Jarrid and Cain, he towered over her, and he looked prettier than most women. Onyx hair teased over his shoulders. His features were sharp, almost pointed, giving him an air of menace she hadn’t noticed with Cain. She took a step backward.

Kasdeja gave her a radiant smile. She felt like a heel because she knew he had no reason to hurt her.

“Nephilim were said to be giants,” Cain said from behind her. “We’re the devourers of men, meant to destroy the world, or some such bullshit.”

She pictured Kasdeja eating his way through a third-world nation.

Not much of a stretch.
She wasn’t prepared for him to toss his head back and laugh hard enough so a ceiling fan shook.

“Would it surprise you to learn I’m a vegetarian?” He winked.

She was sure her eyeballs popped clean out of her head. “You can read minds.”

A roguish grin spread across Kasdeja’s face. He tipped his head, considering her. “I am a world destroyer with many talents.”

“I’m so sorry.” She thanked God her skin tone would hide some of the telltale signs of her embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Cain wrapped a lazy arm over her shoulders and she stumbled under the weight. “He ain’t offended, gorgeous. Kas is being rude. He’s not supposed to scope anyone unless it’s a mark or they give him permission.”

“A mark?” Ionie asked.

“I apologize,” Kas said, glaring hard at his brother. “You’re the reporter.”

“Newshound by day, bane of secrets by night.” His affectionate chuckle put her at ease. These guys were all right, once a girl moved past the first impressions. “Are you really a vegetarian?”

“Hell no,” Kas said. “I’d eat all the cows in Texas if I could get away long enough.”

An image she didn’t want to dwell on. “I’ll alert the Texas Rangers to be on the lookout for a titan with a big bottle of A-1 Sauce.”

The trio erupted, cracking up. Ionie hugged her sides, her eyes watering. Out of the corner of her eye, a movement in the corner of the room caught her attention. She tried to track it, but when she focused on a spot, it was empty. She turned to ask Cain, but met the curious eyes of another colossus. She jumped out of her skin.

“God, you scared me!” Ionie gawked at the man. His rust-colored tresses shadowed most of his face.

“Sorry.” His voice was rougher than Jarrid’s, like the vocal chords were rusty.

“This is the quiet one,” Cain said. “Ionie meet Nestaron. Nesty, this is the reporter.”

“Pleased to meet you.” She extended her hand. “I’m normally not so jumpy, but I’m new here.”

Nesty accepted her handshake for a millisecond before releasing her and folding his hands behind his back.

Guess Jarrid’s not the only one who doesn’t like touching
.

“You just get back?” Kas asked. Nestaron nodded. “Sweet, let’s get some COD action before dinner.”

“COD?” she asked.

“Call of Duty,” Kas said. “A killer video game. Want to play?”

Ionie pressed her lips together, smothering her smile. She was in a room with three behemoths from legend and they seemed more like overgrown teenagers. Her day had warped from stressing over finding an angel to hanging out with a trio of half-angels. She shook her head, amused by her luck. “Sorry, fellas, I’m more of a Solitaire kind of gal.”

The air stilled around her.

Uh oh
.

Cain pinched the bridge of his nose. “How did you get past security?”

“I’m calling the police,” Kas said, crossing his arms over his massive chest.

Nesty hung his head, shaking it from side to side. Two of the brothers walked away. She sensed she’d lost a round of coolness points. Cain’s comforting arm returned to her shoulders.

“It’s clear you were raised by cave trolls, but I forgive you,” he said, steering them away from the game room and into another part of the warehouse. “Let’s finish your tour before the brooding one comes looking for you.”

True to his word, Cain walked them through most of the Stronghold. He paused on the second floor to point out the closed doors belonging to the brothers, each holding a private bedroom. Jarrid’s room was the farthest away.

Ionie’s skin prickled with the urge to poke around where she shouldn’t. She took a long look at Jarrid’s closed bedroom door. The desire to slip inside and see what she could learn rattled around her subconscious.