Dirty Angel (Sainted Sinners #1) (6 page)

“
Y
ou’re
a hard man to find.”

Kirael glanced left down the dimly-lit length of Vaughn’s Bar to find Vesper approaching. Her long dark hair tumbled down her shoulders, her leather-clad hips swayed. She wore a tattered white tank top, tied up to show off a smooth expanse of flat stomach.

Damn
. For being remarkably mouthy, Vesper sure was nice to look at.

More than that, actually.

Hot
, was the word he’d heard Ezra use the other day. Kirael was finally catching up on all the human jargon, so he could finally pull out the perfectly trashy human word for Vesper’s long dark hair, skin tight jeans, and leather jacket.

Hot as Hell itself. If he ignored the challenging smirk on her lips and the fact that she’d tried to kill him, of course.

“Being hard to find is intentional,” he replied as she sat down.

He glanced down at his tumbler of Blanton’s Single Barrel bourbon and frowned. He’d just been thinking of her, pondering what to do about the bounty on his head. It was as if he’d managed to summon her presence, though saints knew he didn’t need Vesper hanging around, giving him grief.

Just one glance at Vesper, and even Kirael knew she was trouble.

“I didn’t know that angels drank liquor,” Vesper said, raising her hand to call over a bartender. “I’ll have what he’s having.”

“I’m not an angel,” Kirael said, sipping his drink. “I’m Fallen. Make that,
former
Fallen.”

“I didn’t realize there was an option to leave Lucifer’s army,” she said, thanking the bartender when he set down her drink in front of her.

“There isn’t.”

“And yet, here you are,” she said, glancing at him.

“Despite your best attempts, yes,” he said, feeling his lips twitch with the urge to smile.
Odd
…

“Well… I mean, technically, I was going to orb you and turn you over to Jacinth. From there…” she shrugged and raised her hands. “I just catch ‘em, I don’t kill ‘em.”

“There is no distinction, if you know that you’re handing a creature over to be executed.”

Vesper shot him a look. “Well, aren’t you high and mighty?”

“It’s important to have a strong moral compass. Especially here in the mortal realm, where there are an endless number of choices. And an endless number of second chances,” he said, glancing skyward.

Vesper arched a brow. “You don’t have to get preachy. I was just making a joke.”

Kirael set his glass down and sighed. “Has anyone ever told you that you have an unusual sense of humor?”

Vesper’s lips lifted a little at the corners, but she just canted her head and sipped her drink. Kirael had to drag his gaze away from her mouth, to keep his mind from automatically going to somewhere dark and intimate and breathless.

“Why are you here, Vesper?” he asked.

“Ah. Straight to business,” she said, flashing him a grin.

“It’s my preference, yes.”

“I want my swords back.”

Kirael pretended to think it over. “No.”

“I think you’re going to want me to have them.”

“I can’t think of a single reason why that would be true.”

“Because…” she said, turning in her seat and crossing her legs. She leaned forward a little, giving him a glimpse of tempting cleavage. “You wouldn’t want me to be weaponless when we’re sneaking into Hell together.”

Kirael stopped mid-sip, paused. He lifted the glass to shoot the rest of the burning liquor and slammed the glass down. Then he pulled out his wallet and threw some cash on the bar.

“This has been so entertaining,” he said. “Let’s not do it again, soon.”

“I have something you want. Information,” she said.

“I don’t think so.”

“Yeah? I did a little digging around, and I think you’d be very interested in what I know.”

“Well, I’m not.” He turned to leave, wanting desperately to get away from the pushy human woman who he found just a
little
too interesting.

And interesting was entirely the wrong word for what he found her, but he couldn’t even start to define the pull he felt to Vesper.

“What if I said I knew a Null?” she called across the bar as he strode away.

Kirael stopped dead in his tracks, then turned around ever so slowly.

“Say that again?” he asked, sure he hadn’t heard her properly.

“I know a Null. Someone that’s been in hiding for years, and probably isn’t going to be casually discovered by Heaven or Hell anytime soon.”

Kirael looked her up and down. She was perfectly calm and still, her face open and honest.

“You’re serious,” he surmised.

“Serious as a hanging in the town square,” she said, picking up her glass, knocking back the whole shot of bourbon.

Kirael considered her words for another moment, then held up a finger. “Stay here. Don’t leave.”

“Kay,” she said with a shrug, turning her back on him to flag down the bartender again.

“Don’t get drunk,” he ordered.

She shot him an amused look over her shoulders, her full lips curving in a way that made him wonder just how she tasted. Whiskey, with maybe just a trace of sweetness?

What the Hell am I thinking?
he suddenly wondered, catching himself.

He whirled and stalked out of the bar, pulling out his cell phone. He crossed the street, thumbing through his contacts until he found Mere Marie. She picked up after three rings.

“What?” she asked.

Nice greeting
, he thought.

“I need you to make some inquiries for me,” he said, launching right into it.

There was a long pause. “Oh?”

“I need to know where I would stand with Heaven if I brought them a big, big asset.”

Another pause, the sound of an exhale, like Mere Marie was smoking. “Kirael…”

“This is serious, Mere Marie. I think I finally have something they’ll really want.”

“I don’t doubt that,” she said in her thick New Orleans accent. “It’s just… you of all people should know that you can’t buy your way into Heaven.”

Kirael paused to absorb that. “That’s not my intention.”

“Since you’ve come under my supervision, I’ve never known you to talk of anything but getting back into His good graces. And I understand, Kirael, I really do. But this isn’t a tradeoff, and there are no guarantees.”

“I know that.”

“I honestly don’t think you do, honey. You don’t get to go to confession and repent and just be forgiven. You’re not human, and… well, you’ve done something very, very bad.”

“It’s been millennia since The Fall,” Kirael growled.

“I know. But… I just don’t want you walking around, thinking that you can go back. You can’t, Kirael. You can never go back.”

“I don’t expect… I don’t think I will ever be amongst the Heavenly host again,” Kirael said slowly, aggrieved. “I just want Him to know… to know that I am sorry. That I am repentant, that I have learned from my mistakes.”

Mere Marie was silent for several seconds. “I can convey your message, Kirael. I just don’t want you to hold a torch for something that cannot happen.”

“I can manage my own expectations, thank you,” Kirael said, trying not to lose patience with her.

“All right. What have you got?”

“A Null, I think.”

A pause. “Holy Hell.”

“I know,” Kirael said. “It’s unbelievable. The source is… pretty solid, I think.”

“This might bring some unwanted attention your way,” Mere Marie warned.

“That’s why I’m entrusting you to convey the message.”

“All right. All right,” Mere Marie mumbled, sounding thoughtful. “Let me make some inquiries. I will let you know what I find out.”

“Thank you.”

“You can thank me by laying low,” she said. “All I’ve heard the last couple of days are whispers about Lucifer wanting you dead, at any cost.”

“Yeah… it’s a long story.”

“So stay out of trouble for a few days, will you?”

“I’ll do my best,” he said, then ended the call.

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he headed back into Vaughn’s. Vesper was sitting on the bar now, laughing at something the bartender said. As far as Kirael knew, the human bartender was a normally silent and surly kind of man, but just now he was grinning at Vesper.

“Ah!” Vesper said when Kirael returned to his bar stool. “Jim here was just telling me the most interesting things about how Vampyres secretly run the French Quarter. Isn’t that funny, him thinking that there are supernatural beings running around, doing crazy things?”

She winked at Jimmy, who went red as a tomato. Apparently Kirael wasn’t the only one affected by Vesper’s long lashes and sapphire gaze. Or her perfectly shaped breasts, going by where Jimmy’s gaze seemed to be glued.

“Well, it’s just a rumor,” Jimmy muttered. “Can I get y’all anything else?”

“Another round,” Kirael said.

“Oh?” Vesper said, arching a brow. “Do we have a deal, then?”

“We have something to discuss,” Kirael said, pulling his best poker face.

Poker was a major pastime in Hell, and Kirael was fairly damned good at it. Still, Vesper was clearly aware of her own… attributes… and unafraid to use them to her advantage.

“Well, then…” Vesper said, hopping down from the bar. She intentionally braced her hand on Kirael’s shoulder as she moved to her own bar stool, biting her full lower lip as she went. “Let’s talk.”

Kirael waited until the bartender set down two more glasses before them, then glared at the human until he moved away to the end of the bar.

“Well?” Vesper prompted.

“Why do you want to get into Hell?” Kirael asked.

Vesper pursed her lips. “I need to rescue someone.”

Kirael took a sip of his bourbon, thinking. “There’s no bringing back souls from Hell.”

“She’s human, and alive.”

He glanced over at Vesper, a little surprised.

“Is that so?”

Vesper nodded, and Kirael sensed that she was struggling to keep her own poker face on.

“Who is it?” he asked.

She hesitated. “My sister. She’s… troubled. After I bailed on your bounty, the Vampyres moved her to a blood brothel in Hell. I’ve been assured that she won’t live very long.”

Her words chilled Kirael’s blood. He’d been in one of those establishments, meeting a high-level Vampyre who was to orchestrate some important events to benefit Lucifer. Since Vampyres traded in addictions — flesh, drugs, whatever — they were frequent collaborators with Lucifer and the Fallen.

A single visit had been more than enough for Kirael. Beautiful, naked men and women splayed out on velvet chaises, Vampyres and demons feeding on their blood, coupling with the humans whether they were awake or not…

Just the memory of it made Kirael want to shudder. Still, he didn’t want to alarm Vesper.

He kept it simple. “That is… unfortunate.”

Vesper’s brow creased. She traced the rim of her glass with a fingertip, her throat working for a moment as she struggled to control herself.

“I’m gonna get her out, one way or another,” she said, staring hard at her drink. “I don’t especially want to out this person, the Null I mean. But… if it’s between her and my sister…”

Vesper lifted a shoulder, trying to seem uncaring, but Kirael could tell that the choice troubled her. If he were a better man, a different man, this would be the moment when he offered to help her without compromising her.

But Kirael was Fallen. He’d sinned so deeply, so irrevocably, that he’d never be that kind of selfless man again. All his efforts were directed toward repenting for his past.

No time for pity. No time for dallying with humans, no matter how lovely they might be…

“When we were in Hell before,” he said, thinking everything out. “Before you rushed in and ambushed me, I was there for a reason.”

“Okay,” Vesper said, giving him a blank look. She was utterly remorseful, which for some reason amused Kirael a little.

“My point is, I still have a task to accomplish there. If, and it’s a very distant possibility, but
if
I could get you into Hell, I would need to split off from you once we were there. It’d be my last shot to do what I need to do,” he said.

“And what’s that, exactly?” she asked, glancing at him.

“I need to retrieve something that Lucifer stole from Heaven.”

“So… you wouldn’t be able to help me in the brothel,” she said, her voice going flat. He could hear the little bit of hope she’d been building up start to fade. “I don’t think that’s worth what I’m offering you.”

He considered that for a moment.

“I’m willing to guarantee entry. I’m willing to help get your sister out. But we don’t leave without the object I need, and that part is going to be a lot harder than extracting a blood whore, I assure you.”

Vesper went white, making a strangled sound. Kirael’s gut twisted a little; perhaps his words were a little harsh.

To his surprise, though, Vesper didn’t lose her temper or lash out. Instead, she got very quiet, a look of steely determination settling on her heart-shaped face.

“Fine,” she said.

“Fine?” he asked.

“You have a deal. You get me in, you do your best to help me save my sister. After that, I’m on my own.”

“And you’ll give me the name of the Null. Before we walk into Hell, so that I can make arrangements in case… you know,” he said with a shrug.

She stared off into the distance for a long moment, then nodded. “Agreed.”

It wasn’t a deal Kirael would have accepted, but then again he wasn’t in her place. He’d never had any siblings, outside the sense of brotherhood he’d felt as a member of the Heavenly host.

Vesper turned to him, sticking out her hand. After a beat, Kirael shook it, intrigued by the slide of her warm palm against his own.

“It’s a deal,” he said, waiting just a second too long to release her.

He turned back to his drink, feeling strangely satisfied with the bargain.

If nothing else, Kirael had certainly just made his life more interesting…

V
esper felt
like she was dreaming as she left the bar with Kirael.

Five years ago, before Mercy ever got involved in drugs, Vesper was a newly minted middle school librarian. Straight out of school at University of New Orleans, she never imagined anything like Vampyres or shifters existed.

Certainly, that fresh-faced, pastel-dress-wearing version of herself could never have imagined that she’d be following a Fallen angel out of some scuzzy dive bar. That version of herself couldn’t imagine missing a Thursday night Mass…

Much less celebrating the fact that she’d just convinced one of Lucifer’s favored disciples to take her straight to Hell.

Or checking out his ass in his tight, dark jeans as he walked ahead of her, his big body moving with a kind of swagger and confidence that only truly powerful men could pull off.

Kirael led her around the corner to a big black-and-chrome motorcycle. When he plucked a helmet off the back and handed it to her, she gave him a look.

“You’re kidding,” she said. “A motorcycle, really?”

“Yep. And since you’re a fragile human, you get the helmet.”

“I don’t… ride…” she said, trying not to look as uncomfortable as she felt.

“You want to rescue your sister or not?” he asked. “Because we can’t just waltz in Hell. We’re gonna need help, and that’s not gonna happen right in this spot.”

Vesper balked for another moment. Kirael rolled his eyes, pulling out his phone and sending a text.

There was something you didn’t see every day, former angels
texting
.

Then Kirael climbed onto his bike, swinging his leg over with practiced ease, and gave her a hard look. “Coming?”

Vesper blew out a breath and brought the helmet down onto her head. It smelled distinctly male, but not in a bad way.
Of course, even Kirael’s sweat would be kind of attractive
.

Then she clambered on the motorcycle behind him. The seat was sloped up at the back, which meant that Vesper immediately slid down, her whole body pressing flush against Kirael’s body.

Damn, every single inch of him is hard as steel
, she thought with a sigh. She rested her hands lightly on his shoulders.

He started the engine and gunned it a couple of times. Vesper couldn’t lie, the rumble of the engine between her thighs was strangely seductive. Maybe it was old librarian Vesper that didn’t like bikes…

Kirael reached up and pulled her hands down to his hips, then around to his stomach. He said something to her, probably some variation of
hold on
, though she couldn’t hear much through the helmet.

Then they were off. Vesper’s arms tightened around Kirael’s waist, her eyes squeezed shut.

Her mind bounced back and forth between fear and excitement. At first, the ride was very stop and go, since they were in French Quarter traffic. Soon, though, Kirael pulled onto Esplanade Avenue, and the ride got smoother.

Torn between being a little scared for her safety and all too curious about Kirael’s warm, muscular body, Vesper tried to relax and enjoy the experience. All too soon, Kirael pulled the bike up in front of a particularly grand Victorian mansion, three stories and the precise blue hue of a peacock feather.

Vesper climbed off the bike first, gladly pulling the helmet off her head. When Kirael dismounted, he stowed the helmet back in the pop-up seat of his bike, then strode toward the house.

She started to follow, so close on his heels that she almost stumbled into him when Kirael paused, then turned back to her.

He reached out to steady her, smirking. Just that touch, simple as it was, made her heart beat a little faster.

I seriously need to get out more
, she thought.

“There are a few things you should know first,” he said.

“Okay,” Vesper said, stepping back to shake off his touch.

He arched a brow, but didn’t comment. “There are two more Fallen that have defected recently. We work together, sort of… keeping the balance between Heaven and Hell.”

Vesper was startled. “Really? I thought it was literally impossible to defect, and that you were just an exception to the rule.”

“Only the strongest Fallen can leave,” he said with a shrug, as if being equal in power to Lucifer was just… no big deal. “You know who Le Medcin is?”

“Kind of. He’s like… the referee between Heaven and Hell, right?”

“He leans toward good rather than evil, but yes. You could say that the three of us work for him.”

Vesper couldn’t help but laugh, or hold back the words that came out of her mouth next. “Oh man. You guys are like… an angel squad?”

Kirael scowled. “That’s certainly not what I would call it.”

“Really? What do you call yourselves?”

“Nothing,” he said, giving her an odd look.

“That’s no fun,” she said with an eye roll.

“Moving on,” he said, shaking his head. “Each of us has been given a Task, something that Le Medcin wants us to do. More than just peacekeeping.”

“Ah,” Vesper said, something clicking together in her head. “Is yours related to this object you’re retrieving from Hell?”

Surprise flitted across Kirael’s face.

“It is,” he said. “But the others don’t know what my Task is, nor I theirs. It’s a very private thing.”

“What is the Task going to accomplish?” she asked.

“That’s not your concern,” he said, crossing his arms. “I just want you to understand, before we walk inside, that you cannot mention my Task to the others. Not to anyone, ever.”

“Ooookay….” Vesper said, pulling a face. “Gotcha.”

“The less you have to say to any of them, the better,” he said, turning toward the house again.

Vesper stuck out her tongue at his back, but he was already halfway to the front door, leaving her to catch up. She hustled to follow him inside as he swung open the ornate stained-glass front door and headed in.

“Whoa…” Vesper said, staring around in wonder. The whole place was done in stunning antiques, contrasting beautifully with a wealth of African tribal art. Whoever’d done the decorating here had distinctive but wonderful taste.

“Take off your shoes,” Kirael told her, bending down to unlace and pull off his boots.

Vesper did the same, still gawking. “This is where you live?”

“No. Each of the Fallen maintains his own residence. This is… a gathering place.”

He led her down a long hallway and into a formal dining room, where three other people awaited.

“We were starting to wonder where you were,” said a beautiful older Creole woman, dressed in white robes and a towering purple head wrap. When the woman’s coffee-colored gaze pinned Vesper, there was a distinct spark of interest. “What have we here? Kirael, you’ve brought us a guest.”

“Mere Marie,” Kirael said, “this is Vesper. Vesper, meet Mere Marie, Ezra, and Lucan.”

Mere Marie offered a handshake, though the touch of her skin sent an uncomfortable little jolt through Vesper’s hand. Precisely like touching a doorknob after walking across a carpet, though this was Mere Marie’s magic at work, not static.

The other two didn’t move from their seats, regarding her silently. Ezra had dark hair, classically handsome Mediterranean sort of good looks. Lucan was had dirty blond hair and piercing green eyes, and he was looking at Vesper as though she were some kind of strange beetle crawling around the room.

“Here,” Kirael said, pulling out a chair at the table for Vesper.

Vesper took it, not missing the look that went between Lucan and Ezra. Disdain? Concern?

The two Fallen were hard to read, that was sure enough.

When they were all seated, Mere Marie at the head of the table, Vesper and Kirael across from Ezra and Lucan, there was a long beat of silence.

“You’ve brought a human here,” Lucan said to Kirael, sounding displeased.

“And she can hear you,” Vesper said, raising a hand and wiggling her fingers at him. “You can talk to me, too.”

“Circumstances are… unusual,” Kirael said. “She has information.”

Ezra’s dismissive snort was hard not to take personally.

“He’s right,” Mere Marie said, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. “She knows the location of a Null.”

The whole room went silent as a tomb. Tension built as the silence played out for almost a minute, everyone looking at everyone else for cues.

“Can’t be,” Lucan said at last. “They’ve all died out, or gone so deep into other Kith worlds that they can’t be brought up again.”

“I know one,” Vesper said, shaking her head. “Sort of… hiding in plain sight, if you will.”

The feel of Lucan and Ezra’s gazes as they stared her down began to feel unnerving. Slowly, everyone shifted their attention to Ezra.

“She’s telling the truth,” Ezra said. “Or at least she believes she is.”

The angels’ cold, imperious attitude gave Vesper a little more insight into Kirael’s personality. He might be gruff, but at least he wasn’t as haughty as these two.

“Again, I’m right here,” she said, crossing her arms.

Ezra’s smirk was so infuriating, Vesper wanted to slap it right off his damn face.

“So?” Lucan asked, leaning back in his chair. “What’s the discussion to be had?”

“I need something in return,” Vesper said, though Lucan had addressed Kirael.

“She needs to get into Hell,” Kirael said, splaying his hands on the table. “And back out, presumably.”

Another long silence, so thick it could’ve been cut with a knife.

“Usually humans try to avoid going to Hell,” Lucan said, though his tone was mild enough.

“Yeah, well. Not this human,” Vesper said, narrowing her gaze.

“She’s rescuing another human,” Kirael said, then hurried to add, “A live one. I already asked.”

“A prisoner of the Fallen?” Ezra asked, his brows drawing down into a scowl.

“A… captive,” Kirael said, glancing at Vesper. “At a blood brothel.”

“Goodness,” Mere Marie said, shuddering.

Vesper saw Kirael shoot Mere Marie a glance, and then Mere Marie lifted a shoulder in response.

“It is what it is,” Mere Marie said.

“Why would you not simply… purchase this captive? It is a brothel, after all,” Lucan demanded to know.

“Because the price is my death,” Kirael said, stopping Lucan cold.

“Lucifer has put bounties on us?” Ezra asked, sitting up a little straighter. “What kind of fool would come after a Fallen?”

Kirael cleared his throat, but thankfully didn’t point out that Vesper was
exactly
that kind of fool.

“I don’t think that’s the matter at hand,” Mere Marie said, waving a hand. “The question is,
can
we get someone into Hell? The gris-gris I gave Kirael won’t fool them twice.”

Kirael and Lucan looked to Ezra, who sighed.

“It
is
possible…” he said, but he didn’t sound very happy about it.

“Ezra set up most of the entrances and exits in and and out of Hell,” Kirael explained for Vesper’s benefit. “He knows all the tricks.”

“Getting in isn’t the issue. It’s leaving again that would be difficult. Think of breaking into Hell like robbing a bank. If someone sounds the alarm and activates the security measures, you’d be trapped
inside
,” Ezra sighed.

“Where, presumably, Lucifer would then maim and torture you to death… and that’s just the beginning. Once he has your soul in his possession, that would be…” Kirael said, then went quiet. Leaving everyone at the table to finish his thought for themselves.

“We’d need to call in a favor to get you out. We’d need an insider’s help,” Ezra said.

Kirael snorted. “Who’d help us?”

Ezra turned to give Lucan a meaningful look.

“No,” Lucan said, seeming to catch Ezra’s meaning after a moment. “No! Absolutely not.”

“You want to find the Null, or not?” Ezra asked.

“Nothing is worth that,” Lucan snapped.

“Lucan…” Kirael said.

Lucan shoved to his feet, clearly agitated. “I’m not contacting Stella. Just… no.”

“She’d do it, for you,” Kirael challenged.

“She’d do it to piss off Lucifer,” Lucan qualified. “And again…
no
. I’m not talking to that she-demon.”

“Maybe you two should just fuck and get it over with,” Ezra suggested somberly.

In a flash, Lucan’s fist was in the air, poised to crash down into Ezra’s face.

“
STOP
,” Mere Marie shouted, her voice resonating through the room with unnatural force.

Everyone froze. Vesper, halfway out of her seat, dropped back down and swallowed.

Mere Marie was no one to mess with, that was for sure.

“Does anyone know a better way?” Mere Marie asked. “Someone holding onto a secret Fatale?”

“What’s a Fatale?” Vesper asked, confused.

“A being, a female, that can take out almost anyone or anything, if given the right… motivation…” Ezra said. “Provoke a Fatale enough, and it’s like calling down a nuclear strike. It just levels everyone in the vicinity.”

“So… let’s find one,” Vesper said, looking around.

Kirael shook his head. “She was kidding. There aren’t any more Fatales, unless someone somewhere hasn’t matured.”

“Matured?” Vesper asked. Ezra jumped in to clarify, his face lighting up as he explained.

“Yeah, they’re sort of like a dormant volcano. Everything’s normal, then one day,” he pulled out his hands, making an explosion sound. “They come into their powers, all at once. I knew one, back in Rome. She was just a normal girl, a servant in a royal house I think. One day I turned a corner, and suddenly… there were just bodies everywhere. Some dead, some unconscious. Poor Alexandria, crying and shaking, not knowing what she’d done.”

“Holy crap,” Vesper said. “Kith stuff gets weirder every time I foolishly decide to ask questions.”

“You don’t have to tell us, we’ve basically seen it all,” Ezra said, sinking back in his seat. “Anyway, we’re not getting bailed out by some mysterious creature.”

“Oh. Got it,” Vesper said, sitting back in her chair. Disappointment filled her suddenly.

“Since that’s not an option… Lucan, make the call,” Mere Marie said, her tone sharp. “I don’t want to hear another word about it.”