Ashes of Angels (10 page)

Sam spread his hand up her spine and pulled her tightly against him. The warmth of him was real. The sinuous glide of his muscles beneath her palms heightened her desire. Everything about him seduced her to drop her guard.

Tracing the fresh stubble darkening his jaw with a fingertip, she then brushed her lips over the sexy scruff. The rough sensation stimulated her nerve endings, and she dashed her tongue along his jaw where perhaps God himself had carved this man from an ineffable substance. Too incredible to fathom, and yet had she not also been created by Him?

Kissing along his jaw, she took his measure, finding the crease where his ear met his head a particularly enticing spot to tuck her tongue. His deep, longing moan signaled approval.

Down his neck she placed a kiss against the vein that did not pulse, and there, up under his chin, and then to the hard Adam's apple, before licking the cool flesh at the base of his neck.

“Cassandra,” he murmured. “Cass…”

Had she rendered him speechless? Ha! Score one for the muse and hand her the control. She needed to feel that right now. If she could manage one aspect of her crazy life, she could then, hopefully, control many more.

Lifting the sweater emblazoned over the breast with the AquaDom logo over his head, she tugged it off and tossed it aside. Bowing over him, she explored hard pectorals too solid to be anything but sculpture, yet his skin begged for her to press her palms flat to take in as much of him as possible. His nipple grew harder when she dashed her tongue over it.

Sam gasped and thrust back his head. His fingers slid into her hair, gently claiming her and keeping her upon him. The ribbons within her hair slipped over his chest and arms. She teased her tongue to the other nipple and he gripped the nape of her neck, wanting to pull her hard against him but somehow resisting that dominant move.

The muscles in his arms tensed against her rib cage, and his thighs flexed under hers. She was giving him a new experience, and it was a hell of a lot of fun. But how far dare she take it?

She wasn't ready to go all the way. Would she ever be ready for that? It was foolish to think she could enjoy the fun of sex without the very real consequences of—no, she wasn't going to think of that peril right now.

Why not? You love danger
.
Angel boy, here, offers it in spades
.

Pressing an ear to his chest, she listened, but it only confirmed what Granny Stevens had told her. “Your heart doesn't beat.”

“My heart is solid glass. It cannot beat.”

“Not without a soul.” Her hand strayed to flick a nail across the halo at his hip. The key to his soul.

“Does that trouble you?” he asked.

She studied his eyes of azure, gold and violet, freckled with
emerald. She had been given the facts. She wasn't a skeptic. “It's just different.”

He touched her bottom lip with his forefinger. “Our one difference.”

Cassandra licked his fingertip and noticed it was smooth. Really smooth. She studied his finger, searching for the whorls. “You've no fingerprints.”

“Without a soul, I've not the unique prints that make you mortals what you are.”

Pressing his finger aside her cheek, she held him there, fascinated and a little freaked.

Danger, Cassandra. Don't stop now. You don't have much time left before the world falls down around you.

“Right,” she whispered, and then sat back and pulled her sweater off over her head.

Sam's eyes widened. He couldn't repress that sexy innocence-chasing-charming smirk. So she wasn't much for bras. Her 32Bs liked the freedom.

“Those are so…wow.” His hand on her hip flexed. “Can I…can I touch them?”

She took his hand and placed it over her heart. “Touch me. Feel my heart beat.”

He exhaled and conformed his printless fingers over her heart, which covered her entire bare breast. “It's pounding.”

“It's excited about something,” she offered with a surprising flush of heat to her neck. That heat moved through her being, warming her everywhere and moistening her between her legs.

This was no tease. She knew exactly what she wanted from this man.

Sam flattened his hand upon her chest and his fingers paralleled her hard nipple. “They're so round. They fit perfectly in my hands. Now I understand why men like them so much.” He cupped her other breast. “Does it feel as good for you as when you licked mine?”

“Give it a try,” she dared on a husky voice. Intimacy always brought out her inner harlot. And when in the presence of a Biblical being? Well, then…

Arching her spine, she met his mouth with her breast as he bent to taste her flesh. A moan hummed in her throat. A tilt of her head swept her beribboned hair across her bare back.

In answer to her desirous moan, Sam closed his mouth around her nipple. He didn't lick at it with his tongue, but she didn't need that. The intense connection radiated through her being, tendering every inch of flesh with a giddy tingle.

As he moved to kiss her other nipple, Cassandra squeezed her thighs against his, wanting to capture the warm hum coiling in her groin, but also toying with the untouchable sensation's fleeting tease.

When the world was falling apart around her, she needed a reminder of the sweetness reality could offer, the utter, breathtaking intensity that formed when two beings touched and learned one another.

Sam pressed an ear to her chest and listened, chuckling softly. “That's you, breathing, living, being. It's remarkable.”

Not so remarkable as touching an angel. This man was her enemy? The one who would threaten the world's safety by merely having sex with her? It didn't seem possible. It couldn't be.

Well, she knew the Fallen was only capable of procreating while in half form. He had to shift and his wings must be unfurled for her to become pregnant. So in this complete human form, could they get busy without worry of her becoming a nephilim baby mama?

Don't even consider it!

She wore birth control implants in her upper arm. She couldn't get pregnant—not by a mortal man. But she wasn't stupid, and would not believe such precautions made her safe in this situation.

A pinch to her nipple stirred a chirp of delight. “You think so?”

“I want more,” he said, and kissed his way down her chest to her stomach. “All of you.”

Cassandra raked her fingers through his hair and tilted his head back to study his eyes. Emerald, violet and a sparkle of gold. She need fear him only if they glowed blue.

“What?” he asked.

“Just checking. I, uh…I don't want to take chances, Sam.”
Oh, really, Danger Girl?

“Chance is one of life's great joys. You open yourself to opportunity and experience. Look at me. I love chance!”

“I mean with you going all evil angel on me. Can we…” She sucked in her lower lip, not wanting to have this discussion, but not so stupid she would avoid it. “Can we do this? Without you…you know?”

“If a chance of my harming you existed, I would not have allowed this to happen. I can control the shift to half form. You're safe with me, Cassandra.”

“I want to believe that. But Granny told me the Fallen have this compulsion. A compulsion means something you can't resist. And you've even talked about it. So why can you resist right now?”

“I'm not resisting. I want to touch you everywhere, taste every inch of your skin and feel your softness. Mmm…” He kissed her breast. “Suck on you until you moan.”

She pressed fingers to his mouth. “If we had sex would you turn all nasty-winged Fallen on me? How do you know the compulsion won't come upon you when you're…in the throes?”

“Ah.” He winced and trailed his fingers over her bare stomach. “I don't know. I've…never gone that far with a woman so I'm not sure how far I can take this before the compulsion strikes.”

“That's not good.”

“What we're doing right now is good.”

She kissed him and pressed her forehead to his. “It is, but I don't want to have to stake you should you suddenly decide to make a nephilim with me.”

“Stakes aren't effective against me.”

“Sam, you don't understand.”

“Yes, I do. You don't want to take the risk of what our intimacy could lead to.”

“Oh, I'm all about the risk. I just don't want this to go so far I…” Allow emotion to enter the picture, like love and want and need. Because those things threatened far more than becoming a baby mama.

Was she retreating so quickly? She had engaged them in this intimate dance.

“I guess I do have the repellant spell. If you go evil angel on me, it'll give me a minute to escape.”

“I hate that we need a precaution like that, sweetie bunny mine.”

That one was over-the-top, but it still made her smile. “You do. You…really do care about me?”

He nodded.

“But I'm the only woman you've gotten a chance to know. Who's to say once you've spent some time on earth, chatted up a few more ladies, you won't feel the same attraction to them? There's nothing special about me. And don't bring up the sigil and our destinies.”

“Then I've no argument. All I know is right now I want you, Cassandra. Just like this. Our skin brushing against one another. Our mouths giving and taking breath. Beyond that, it's all new to me.”

A statement in no need of further argument. Cassandra bent and opened his mouth with a deep kiss and wrapped her legs about him and the chair.

“Mmm,” he murmured. “You smell so good.”

They kissed and Sam stroked her breasts until she began to feel the beginnings of orgasm humming in her core. And while her body was ready to fly and take the angel along with her, some insistently prudish part of her demanded she take it slower. Resist the release, because it wasn't right yet. They were yet so new to each other.

Tilting back her head, Cassandra bit her lip as a pinch to her nipple twisted the coil in her belly to a tightness too good to resist. Then she heard the public safety alarm beep on the television that jabbered quietly behind them.

“What's wrong, bunny? Am I doing this wrong?”

Her attention averted to the television, Cassandra's libido dropped off the scale. Pushing away from the best kisses she had ever received, she went to the bed and stood before the TV, arms crossed over her sensitive breasts.

She narrowed her gaze to study the brief, grainy video being looped over and over on the screen. The newscaster stated a strange being had been sighted in Berlin. Bystanders described it as tall and deformed, but most definitely human. It growled and stomped about on club feet, and had knocked down a streetlight and damaged three cars. It was considered dangerous, and people should run if they saw it.

Cassandra stepped backward, right onto Sam's foot. She wobbled, and he caught her shoulders, supporting her. “Do you think that is the…?”

“I've never seen one before. The image is very poor. It could be anything.”

“I've got to call Coco.” She scrambled for her cell phone and found it under the backpack.

 

Sam angled his head to study the blurred image of what was obviously a bald, distorted head. The mouth was wide and opened in a roar. Beyond that, there was no evidence to show that it was anything more than a man with a multitude of
exterior defects. But he knew. Something inside his hard glass heart pulsed. And it wasn't a pulse of desire or happiness.

He did not fear, such as did mortal men. But what he saw on the television injected horror into his being. A nephilim walked the earth.

S
am tossed Cassandra her backpack, which was loaded with the necessary weapons. “We need to take action. If there's a nephilim stalking the streets of Berlin, we have to find it.”

“I agree. But Coco and Zane are on its trail. And I trust they've got a handle on that situation.” She slid on her coat and then the backpack. He hadn't liked it when she'd put on her shirt, covering those gorgeous breasts. But he couldn't think about the sensual things he wanted to do to her body right now.

“Although,” she said, “it's only been an hour since I talked to Coco, and she was still in Hamburg. It's a three-hour drive from there to Berlin. They couldn't possibly have kept up with it.”

Sam grabbed her arm, stopping her from leaving the room. Apparently she did not gauge the seriousness of the situation. “I will not endanger another being by getting them involved in our troubles. Most especially not a relative of yours. We can do this alone. We must.”

“I don't think so, buddy.” She tugged from his grasp.

“My name is not buddy. And you will respect me for the skills I bring to the table. I have experience with this sort of thing.”

She opened the hotel room door and swung a doubting look at him. “Really? How many nephilim have you tracked and slain?”

Stating the obvious was not going to win his favor. But that cute, defying stare she cast him was. “That's not the point. What's important is that the creature is of my ilk—”

“Sam, listen,” she said as she followed his hasty strides down the hallway. “I agree I don't want Coco involved. But her boyfriend has once already slain an angel.”

“Mortals are not capable of such a feat.”

“Yes, I know. But he did it, so I think I want to put my trust in that he may have some crazy skills should they actually find the nephilim. And do you even know what is the one thing that can kill a nephilim?”

“Certainly a Sinistari blade, and I've the halo.”

“Wrong. You don't know?” She jumped before him, stopping them at the door that opened to the snowy parking lot.

Actually, he didn't have that knowledge, but he didn't want to say so. He'd developed a sense of pride since arriving on earth and didn't want to reveal his lack of knowledge. What
could
kill a creature born of the divine and earthbound?

“I'll enlighten you,” Cassandra said. “Granny taught me there's only one thing can kill a nephilim. And that one thing? Coco has it.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but realized she wasn't a stupid woman. She knew things. And much as he did know it all after walking the world, the precise method to slay a nephilim wasn't coming to him at this moment. And the vampiress had not that knowledge when he'd scanned her mind. “What is it?”

Cassandra leaned the back of her head against the door, which was frosted with snow flowers, and gave him the most serious brown eyes. “Angel ash.”

Those words darted an icy chill up his spine, and he didn't normally feel things like that. There was only one way such an item could be obtained. “From a dead angel?”

She nodded.

Sam swallowed that information awkwardly. That made
him
key to slaying the nephilim—in a way that did not sit well with him.

“So that's why you were upset when the wind took away Nazariah's ash. How'd your sister get her hands on something like that?”

“I told you. She and her boyfriend killed a Fallen a few months ago.”

“That's too incredible to believe that mortals—”

“It was Zane who did the slaying. But Coco was the one smart enough to gather up the remains. She is bringing the angel ash with her, but the two can't possibly be in Berlin yet.”

“Exactly. I think it wise we pick up the task your sister began and stop the monster before it starts killing innocent people. You saw the news report. It's creating chaos. It won't be long before it gets hungry and—”

“All right. I get it.” Her brown eyes flashed at him. She'd heard something she hadn't wanted to hear, and it twinged deep inside Sam's chest to know he'd caused that aggravation.

He shouldn't be feeling things like regret or sympathy. Or desire. He sure as hell should not have been kissing his muse. Because he wasn't positive he could resist the compulsion should their kisses stoke those dark desires that he knew lived within him. He felt a desire to take her, his newly developed morals be damned.

Was it so wrong to want what He had given man? A woman, a lover, a friend and companion. Someone to hold his hand.

Sam looked at his hand, not daring to clasp it within Cassandra's gloved hand. He wanted someone to hold it and mean it, not as a simple gesture.

Was this the struggle mortal men experienced when attempting to accomplish something important while in the company of a beautiful woman?

He had not expected to be distracted by the muse. But there it was, or rather, there she was. Distracting him with every syllable, every move, every soft sigh. Hell, even watching her swing a stake at invisible vampires had turned him on.

“Sam? What's going on in that brain of yours?”

“Huh?”

“You're giving me the glad eye.”

He rubbed his eye, wondering exactly what that meant and hoping it wasn't something he'd got stuck in there. Then he looked at his hand again. Would she ever hold it?

Why do you care? You want to go home!

“I thought we were discussing monsters and methods to annihilate them. What's up with your hand?”

“Hmm? Oh.” He tucked his hand into the pocket of his leather pants. “I was thinking about mortal men,” he said.

Her forehead quirked, and he laughed, realizing what he'd just said could be construed incorrectly. “Women are such a treat. It's no wonder men will walk worlds for them, do crazy things to impress them, perhaps even die for them.”

“That only happens in fiction,” she said bluntly. He sensed a distinct lack of belief in her. Had she never been with a man who would walk the world for her? “This is real life, buddy.”

“Is it? Real life with monsters?”

She sighed. “You got it. Like a horror movie come to life. Are we going to stalk nephilim, or what?”

He pulled her in for a hug, because it felt right and good to hold her close. And it felt as though he gained strength from her, a reason to continue, to jump forward into the fray and
slash away at the enemy even though he was going against his brethren and their progeny.

And if she chose not to hold his hand, then he would find a way to earn that respect and trust from her. He would champion her.

“Nephilim it is. Let's do this.”

 

They stomped through the park where Cassandra guessed the nephilim may have passed. The news video clip had not shown street signs, but she felt sure she'd seen the Berlin Cathedral in the background. Of course, if the nephilim had walked from Hamburg to Berlin in such a short time, there was no telling where it was now.

She wished they had a car, but it seemed Sam was not aware of creature comforts that made her life a little easier. She wasn't going to pout like a girl. So it was cold. She had a warm jacket, gloves and boots.

The night was still, bright with city lights and a sprinkling of snow. Ahead, a vast parking lot fronted the river Spree. Cars covered in a foot of snow sat here and there. Nothing else could be heard except for the hum of an overhead streetlight and the distant thump of subwoofers in a cruising SUV.

Racing up to parallel Sam, she nudged his arm with an elbow. He slowed to allow her to keep pace.

That's right, angel boy, I'm still here
.

A week ago she would have answered
hell, no
had anyone asked if she'd ever join with the enemy to fight the cause. Sam wasn't the enemy.

Yes, he was.

Truth? On the list of her enemies, Sam landed fourth after vampires, other Fallen and the nephilim. She'd term him a friendly hostile.

Glory hallelujah, Cassandra, you are certifiable
.

Whatever. She would probably require a padded room after all this was done.

A black van rounded the corner and entered the lot behind them. It was moving too purposefully for a random drive through a quiet lot this late at night.

Cassandra tensed, ready for anything.

The van skidded to park and the driver hopped out, leaving the vehicle still running. Dressed in jean jacket and gray army-issue camo fatigues, he banged out a bowlegged race toward them. No gloves, no hat.

Not mortal, Cassandra guessed.

“Vampire,” Sam growled and pushed her behind him.

Cassandra didn't stay there. She stepped to Sam's side and, before he could protest, the vampire charged him. The two went down, Sam kicking high and the vampire somersaulting over him to land on his feet.

“Nice to meet the two of you,” the vampire said in thick Russian, bouncing on his feet and punching his fists in the air like a prizefighter. “Name's Rovonsky. My boss wants a word with you both.”

“Let me guess,” Sam said. “Antonio del Gado? The Anakim tribe leader.”

“Oh, you're good,” Rovonsky said. He winked at Cassandra. “But not so pretty as the muse.”

A great thump shook the ground, and Cassandra spun to spy a hulking black creature approaching with arms pumping and armor glinting.

“Sinistari,” she whispered.

Not as if she hadn't expected another one to be summoned. But seriously? Didn't they have enough trouble already?

Dropping her backpack, she unzipped it and rummaged about inside. “You take the Sinistari,” she yelled to Sam. “I've got the vamp!”

“I'm on it!”

Without pause, Sam charged past her, leaving the vampire with fists raised for a fight he wouldn't get. Metal and muscle clashed as the Fallen and the Sinistari met in the parking lot beside the black van.

“I guess I get to play with you,” the Russian bloodsucker teased.

Cassandra swung toward the leering vampire with the spring-action stake—and missed.

The vampire kicked her in the calf, knocking her sideways and she went down. The titanium cylinder rolled across the snow-and-ice-packed tarmac, away from her grasp.

The key hazard fighting a vampire was blood loss. If she could keep away from its fangs, she could survive this tussle.

Her hips crushed to the cold ground as the vampire landed on them with his knees and grabbed her neck. “I can't kill you, but the boss didn't say anything about not biting you. You are going to taste sweet.”

Fangs grew over his lower lip and he lunged toward her neck. Cassandra blocked the move with a forearm. Fangs gnashed through the Gore-Tex sleeve and she felt the cut at her elbow. So much for avoiding the teeth.

She would not become a vampire cocktail tonight.

Ramming up her knee, she managed to place it below the bastard's rib cage. He grunted and spit blood. Must have bit his own lip. Heh.

Pulling her leather glove off with her teeth, she threw it aside. Clawing her hand, she slashed it toward the lunging vampire's face. Two fine red lines appeared on his cheek. He snarled and slapped at her, but missed when she slithered out from under him.

The slippery ground worked to her advantage, and one push of her boot toe slid her on her stomach to the stake. Slapping a hand on it, the cool titanium shaft fit against her palm.

Air huffed from her lungs as the vampire landed on her back
and lifted her by the neck. Without so much as a grunt of exertion, he brought her to her feet. Then her feet went airborne as he swung her about and slammed her onto the boot of a car.

A thick blanket of snow softened her landing. Stake hand flung high, it sank into the fluffy snow above her head, disguising her weapon from the vicious vampire who climbed upon her.

Swinging the stake forward, she aimed. The vampire chuckled when he saw it. “Looks like your pointy thing lost its pointy part.”

She shoved it against his chest. He smirked to reveal his fangs.

“We'll see about that.” Squeezing the trigger released the stake. The jolt of connection thumped against her palm, but she held firm as the stake pierced bone and heart muscle in one easy glide.

The vampire opened his mouth. Blood dripped out and splattered against her cheek. He winced, looked ready to cry, then ashed.

A gray cloud formed in the shape of a man over her, and then dropped like a heavy blanket onto Cassandra's body. She scrambled off the boot to shake the nasty ash first from her arms and then, with a few jumps, the rest of her body.

“Take that, bloodsucker,” she said, and clicked the stake into the titanium receptacle. “One vampire down, one…”

She'd forgotten about the demon and the angel. Where were they?

Growls rose from the other side of an RV. Cassandra walked a wide arc around the Silver Bullet camper, stake held at the ready. On the other side, Sam held the Sinistari pinned against the dented metal wall.

The demon slashed its deadly blade, missing Sam's face by a whisper. The blade was supposed to be dipped in qeres, an
Egyptian poison effective only against angels. One slice from that blade and Sam was a goner.

If the demon won, it would walk away and leave Cassandra untouched. Its only goal was to slay the Fallen. And that had once been her goal: to make sure the Fallen didn't get anywhere near her, and if at all possible to slay it to prevent it from harming other muses.

But Sam was the outlaw the other angels despised. He was on her side. She needed him more than the Sinistari needed another feather in its cap.

But most of all, she had to admit she wanted Sam around because she liked him as a man. Behind the warrior lived a new, curious man who marveled over everything and who had a sexy sense of tease, which attracted her like no man ever had before.

She entertained the idea of them having a relationship. Of getting as close as two people could. Of not having to do it all on her own. Because…he was hers. They were destined for one another. Just because destiny ruled she should carry his monster child didn't mean she couldn't change that destiny.