Faith Revisited (24 page)

Twentysomethings moved to the sound of Marilyn Manson, and everyone appeared to be having a hell of a good time. Well…except for Bale and Zeke.

The pair was now seated on the stools at a corner table, surrounded by admirers. Faith would have enjoyed the expression on Zeke's face had she not been so determined to get to Bale.

Zeke could only be described as appearing to suffer from severe constipation. Bale, on the other hand, just looked annoyed. And as Faith moved closer, she understood why. Standing at his left elbow was the friendly blonde from the other night.

His gaze raked possessively over her as she approached. Hesitating only a moment, she considered how to get close enough to touch him. The clearest path was through the blonde, but since Faith was not a ghost, her options were to either ask the woman to move or push her out of the way. Liking the second one better, she used her shoulder to check Bale's friend, causing the woman to stumble back, then wormed her way between the two.

“Excuse me! I was standing there,” the blonde said indignantly.

Faith might have responded had Bale not beat her to it. “And now my mate is.” His hand caressed her cheek gently as he glanced down at her. “Everything okay, baby?”

“No. I needed to see you, and I'm not happy about it.” A look of smug satisfaction settled over Bale's features. As if she weren't annoyed enough. “Don't make me hit you.”

He chuckled, leaned down, and brushed his lips against her neck. “I missed you too.”

Faith sighed, melting into him, while behind her, Zeke made a gagging noise.

“Christ. If you two are going to start that shit, I'm going to be sick.”

Pulling back, Faith narrowed her eyes at Bale's brother, but Bale only continued to laugh.

“So close your eyes.”

Zeke snorted. “Thank God you are the only one afflicted with this malady. This whole lovesick bullshit is just embarrassing, Bale.”

Looking up at her mate, Faith asked, “Did he just compare me to a disease?”

“I believe he did.” Bale grinned down at her, and Faith slugged his arm.

“I really don't like some of your friends.”

“Yeah, I know. We're uppity fucking angels,” Zeke mumbled.

Faith's eyes were drawn to Zeke as she contemplated his words. “That has Hope written all over it.”

“Your sister can be quite vocal when she gets going.”

“Tell me something I
don't
know. I've had to deal with her for twenty-four years and still have an eternity to look forward to.”

“An eternity? I'm requesting a transfer,” Zeke muttered under his breath.

The Watchers: Faith Revisited

107

“And we'll miss you so.” Sarcasm dripped from Faith's lips, contradicting the innocent smile she flashed his way. Zeke might have had a quick retort, but voices raised in anger caught Faith's attention.

Turning, she discovered Bale's blonde friend standing between two very disgruntled men and eagerly observing the pair flinging insults at each other. Then she glanced over in Bale's direction, and her entire appearance changed in a split second. Her eyes grew wide, and Faith was particularly impressed with the way her bottom lip quivered. She had perfected the whole

“damsel in distress,” and she practically begged Bale to save her scrawny ass.

When the first punch was thrown, Faith's attention turned back to the men. Quickly sizing up the situation, she realized her bouncers were busy breaking up a catfight on the dance floor.

No way was she going to let these two knuckleheads trash her club. She rushed forward and received a fist in the face for her trouble.

Knocked backward, she slammed into a nearby table. The impact wasn't hard enough to do any damage, but it did cause her to stumble and lose her balance. As she went down, she heard a bellow and saw a smile break out across the blonde's face. From where her ass had planted on the floor, she spotted a black blur grab the two men by the backs of their heads, then winced at the sound of their foreheads connecting. Both men slumped to the ground, and the blonde stepped forward to eagerly thank her rescuer—only the black blur immediately turned his back on the woman and stalked toward Faith.

“Oh shit,” she muttered, her eyes focusing on the look of pure rage encompassing Bale's face.

“You think?” he barked. With narrowed eyes, he examined her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over the injured skin. “You'll have a hell of a bruise.” He pulled her against him and squeezed her tightly before moving her to arm's length. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”

“I was trying to keep my club from being wrecked.”

“And if one of those fools had pulled a knife or a gun?”

“I'm kind of hard to kill, remember?” she hissed.

“But not injure. Damn it, Faith. You purposely put yourself in harm's way. Just how the hell am I supposed to react to that?”

“Can we discuss this in my office?” she asked quietly.

The muscle in his jaw flexed wildly, while his eyes burned with a mixture of anger and fear. Then with a brisk nod, he helped her to her feet.

Once ensconced from public view, Faith ran a hand slowly up Bale's chest, coming to a rest on his clenched jaw. “I've been hunting demons since I was eighteen, and damn it, I am good at it. I know my limits. I never would have purposely sought out an Alu or Rabisu demon.” She paused, staring up at him. Her heart pounded in fear, and a sick sensation settled in the pit of her stomach when Bale pulled back from her and strode to the other side of the room. “Bale, I accept that you need to protect me, but you need to deal with the fact that I am not some helpless bimbo.

I left my father's nest to get away from this controlling attitude, to maintain some freedom over my life. I don't need a father figure. I need a lover…a mate.”

Bale did not respond but continued his pacing in front of the door. Faith whispered his name, and he stopped midstride, turning his irate gaze toward her. “So just like that, I'm supposed to be okay with the fact that you repeatedly place yourself in unsafe or downright 108

Madelyn Ford

dangerous situations. Do you not grasp what would happen to me should you die? My brothers would have to hunt me like one of your damn demons, Faith, because your death would send me straight to Hell.”

“What about
your
death?” she hissed frantically. “Because apparently that poison I got hit with can do more than just knock you on your ass. You are not indestructible. But I am just supposed to contently sit at home and wait for you to return to me, never knowing if you are lying somewhere, slowly dying.”

Bale raked a hand through his hair, then clutched the back of his neck, his head hanging. A low growl rumbled from deep within his chest. “So what is it you want? Do you really want to spend an eternity killing things? Because if you get into the game, that is what you have to look forward to. There is no backing out.”

“I'm already in it,” she said quietly. Bale lifted his head, his gaze boring into hers. She stepped toward him cautiously, stopping when she was within reach without actually touching him. “But I'm not asking for Remy to send me on assignments. I want to go out with you. I couldn't handle being forced to remain behind.”

“Then we have reached an impasse, because I could not patrol with you.”

His words hit her like a punch in the gut, and Faith turned from Bale, unwilling to let him see the tears in her eyes. He sighed raggedly behind her, and then she felt his arms wrap around her, pulling her into his embrace.

“Christ, you mean everything to me,” he said softly. “My life is fraught with danger, and there will be times when fighting will be unavoidable. But the thought of you seeking a confrontation leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.” He tightened his embrace, his face nuzzling the top of her head. “Give me time to come to terms with your needs. Refrain from patrolling for the time being.”

Faith didn't want to agree. She was afraid of the shelf Bale would place her on once the words left her mouth, and she stiffened in his arms. “And then what?”

“We train until you wish you were dead. And then we train some more.” As she slumped against him, Bale kissed the top of her head. “But I will never just allow you to wander through the night, seeking out trouble, baby. Only assigned missions.”

“It's a start.”

Bale turned her in his arms, his fingers burrowing through her hair as he forced her to look into his eyes. “It's all you'll get. When I have determined you are ready.”

When she was ready.
Faith rolled her eyes. She wasn't delusional enough to believe Bale would ever find her ready. But what were her options? Accepting his agreement to train her with the understanding more would come later, or leaving him? Neither was very appealing. One boxed her in a cage; the other left her without her mate and dead from starvation. They both sucked.

* * * *

As she moved to enter her apartment, an arm shot out, preventing her forward motion.

The Watchers: Faith Revisited

109

“Wait here, doll.” Kash shouldered past her and grasped one of the twin twenty-inch swords he had strapped at his sides all the time, brandishing it before him.

Hope rolled her eyes. She wasn't altogether sure just how she'd found herself in this position but knew she only had Faith to thank. Her twin certainly owed her…that was for sure.

“All clear,” Kash called from inside the condo, and Hope found him in the dining room she had converted into a small office. He was standing at the drafting table, flipping through pages of her work.

Horrified, she raced forward. “What do you think you are doing?” She began gathering the scattered pages, clutching them to her chest. No one saw her work until she was finished and she had sent it to her editor. Not even Faith.

“What is this?” Kash was studying one of the pages. When Hope lunged for it, he lifted the paper above her head, and all her attempts to snatch it away were unsuccessful.

“None of your business,” she hissed as she continued futilely trying to reach her work, but the bastard was close to a foot taller than her, and even jumping up didn't help her nab the paper from his grip.

“Is this what I think it is?” Kash's eyes, narrowed on the series of sketches, were filled with disbelief. “Is this
The Vampire Hunter
?”

“Yes, it is.” Hope ripped the paper from his fingers.
The Vampire Hunter
was a series of graphic comic books she had begun writing shortly after her mother had been murdered, based loosely on the encounters she and Faith had with demons. In recent weeks, specifically since meeting Bale and his brothers, she had begun introducing several new male characters in the book she was working on. Looking at the paper in her hand, she realized it wouldn't take a genius to figure out she had used the angel from the tapestry as inspiration for one—Zeke, with long blond hair.

“This is what you do?”

His tone turned her horror to anger. “Why sound so surprised? Didn't think I could rub two brain cells together to form one cohesive thought? Don't let the blonde hair fool you.”

Kash folded his arms across his chest and arched an eyebrow. “Have I ever implied I thought you unintelligent? Zeke loves this series. I guess I just assumed it was written by a human—a man.” He shrugged, then grinned. “I would make an excellent action hero, don't you think? Maybe you could add me?” His gaze slid down to the paper in her hand, and Hope knew the resemblance hadn't been lost on Kash.

She sighed. “You're already in there somewhere, you annoying bastard. But I think I'll kill you off.”

The grin slid from his face to be replaced by a frown. “Now that is just mean.” He turned his attention to her drafting table. “So you can work anywhere?”

“In theory, but you would be surprised how important setting can be.”

Kash grinned again, an amused look that irritated her immediately. “I think we can find you the right setting.” He glanced back at the page with Zeke's image. “Most definitely the right setting.”

“Shut up,” she mumbled, her face flaming bright red.

Kash slung an arm around her shoulders. “Our secret, doll, I promise.”

110

Madelyn Ford

Raising her gaze, Hope met his and realized she could trust Kash not to say a word about her sketches or the fact she had been drawing Zeke's image for weeks. Leaning against him, she sighed. “It means nothing.”

Kash placed a light kiss on the top of her head, then moved away from her and began examining her table. Hope didn't know how to take his silence, but she suspected her denials sounded as false to his ears as they did to her own.

“Does this thing fold down?”

“Yes. Your fingers are on the levers right there. Press them in, and it folds inward.”

“Good thing we came in Remy's Escalade.” Kash flashed a grin before centering his concentration back on taking apart her desk.

Hope gathered her pens, papers, and notes and placed them all neatly into a backpack.

After setting the bag just inside the front door, she moved deeper into the apartment. She grabbed a suitcase from the hall closet, rolled it into her bedroom, and began stuffing clothing into the leather case. It couldn't be described as an eager endeavor. She was still highly resentful of the way she'd been neatly ordered about by Bale, and she was not particularly concerned with what went inside. If she spent the entire time in her pajamas, so be it. But Hope spent more time packing Faith's things, and she did so with a sense of regret.