Hellsbane Hereafter (7 page)

“Enough to earn Eli’s forgiveness.” Was he being obtuse on purpose, or was he really that clueless as to why I would even consider risking that Jukar would discover I was a double agent? “I mean, you guys are all hung up on me being the kid of an archangel. Now you know I’m not the only one. Isn’t that worth something?”

The seraph shifted in his seat, angling his body toward me, smugness radiating through every muscle. “Worth forgiving Elizal’s forsaking of his brothers, forsaking the Father, to lay with you, an abomination of the Father’s greatest creation?”

I swallowed. “Yeah.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“But you said if I got you some info…” I was starting to whine.
Crap.

“
Useful
information,” he corrected. “As you said, the nephilim is unaware of his parentage. Until his power has been activated, he is human like any other.”

“For now.”

Interest flashed through Michael’s eyes before he shut it down.

I continued, hoping to capitalize on it. “Jukar wants him to be human a little while longer before he triggers his powers and brings him over. He’s afraid you guys will kill the kid before he can do it.”

“If he is still human, and his powers still dormant, then he is of no interest to us,” Michael said. “Until his powers are triggered, we seraphim will love and protect him like any other human. He’s an innocent…until he’s not.”

“What if I used my sword, an illorum sword, to bring him over to the seraphim side before Jukar does?” I sat straighter. Couldn’t help it. Playing a trump card does that for a person.

“No.”

“Wha…?” Hadn’t seen that one coming. Why wouldn’t they want another super powerful illorum on their side, someone who had all the perks, privileges, and excuses of being human, plus a mega dose of angelic power?

“Your cover would be ruined.” His arm rested on the table, and he splayed the long fingers of that hand, studying his nails. “No one but you and I know of our arrangement. Not even the Irish illorum who conveyed the offer knows of your decision. No one can ever know. To all concerned, both seraphim and Fallen alike, you are a gibborim. A traitor.”

My stomach twisted. I’d known that was what people thought, but hearing it aloud made me physically ill.
God, how did I get into this mess?
“This bites.”

He rolled his wrists, palms up in resignation. “It’s your choice. Did you think it would be easy? How badly do you want the reward if your service proves of value?”

Dumb question.
There was nothing I wanted more than to see Eli whole again, to see the damage I’d done to him reversed. “What do you want me to do?”

His gaze slid back to the fountain, silent for a moment, brows tight. Then he turned back to me. “Perhaps there is a more nefarious reason Jukar has brought this
boy
to your notice. Keeping him anonymous would be the best protection. No. There must be something else. Something about the nephilim he fears will be exposed. Something that will reveal him as a threat at some point. Discover what it is, why Jukar really fears for the nephilim’s life.”

“And if I do? If I bring you something you can use?” I swallowed hard, hating that I might be gambling one life for another. “Can Eli go back to Heaven?”

His wide lips trembled at the corners as though he fought not to smile. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether Elizal continues to sin.”

Chapter Five

Even if I could tell Eli about my conversation with Michael, I wouldn’t. He’d just tell me not to take the deal, that he was happy, that he could handle missing his brothers. In other words, he’d lie. Watching him miss his brothers was like watching someone try to live with only one lung. Some days were good. Other days, not so much. It wasn’t anything I could point to, just a sadness in his eyes, an unguarded moment when his mind would wander, and I knew he endured a pain I couldn’t begin to fathom. My chest physically ached to see that kind of soul-deep pain. He loved me and was happy with me, but I wasn’t what he needed. I loved him enough to do what it took to make sure he got what he needed. No matter what.

Eli squeezed my hand when Jukar’s stretch limo rocked to a stop in front of my house. I had to play the rich
human
landlord for my little brother. Lucky for me, my fallen angel father had the funds to pull it off.

An anxious tickle wiggled through my stomach. I had to admit I was sort of nervous about meeting the little guy. Okay, maybe not so little; he was in college. But he was my
little
brother. I’d always been the youngest, and I’d never had a brother. What would he be like? What would he think of me? Not that Jukar would allow me to tell him who I was.

Jukar made everything harder, more complicated, than it had to be. I hated taking any sort of help from him, but I had to get something I could bring to Michael, something that would earn Eli back his grace. More than anything, that was what mattered most.

I glanced up to flash Eli a smile, grateful for the support. But my breath caught when I met pale blue eyes framed by ink-black brows and silky hair.
Crap.
There was no doubt about it, the man was hot. Hell, he was an angel. Just touching him ramped my libido into high gear. But it wasn’t the angel thing. It was him: the hard muscled swimmer’s body, the big hands, the soft lips, the unearthly strength and stamina, and the raw, unmistakable desire for me. It was seductive.

A ripple fluttered through my belly, and I looked away, shutting down my body’s quick response to him. Eli had spent the first year we’d known each other resisting his feelings and desire for me. Now it was my turn.
Yay!

I dropped his hand, rubbed the empty feeling off on my skirt, and headed for the black limo. “Wonder if there’s a minibar in there. I could use a drink.”

Forty-five minutes later we pulled up in front of the three-story, red brick house on Parkman Avenue. It was only a few blocks from the Cathedral of Learning and the Pitt Student Union, within walking distance of the busy retail shops and restaurants along Forbes Avenue in Oakland, but when the limo door opened, the sound of birds chirping and lawn mowers humming filled the muggy August air.

The sprawling houses built atop rolling, landscaped knolls, aged gracefully with driveways cut in from the street and shored by six-foot-tall, ivy-covered walls that led to built-in, three-car garages. It was an affluent neighborhood, an elegant slice of community tucked away in a quiet corner of the busy city. So what were a bunch of college-aged guys doing living here?

Eli climbed out of the limo behind me, straightened the lapels of his duster, and ran a quick hand through his hair. He was so overdressed for the eighty-degree weather, but angels don’t sweat, so why not? I’d tried to get him to change up his wardrobe before, but nothing ever looked as right on him as the frumpy gray duster and the loose, off-the-rack suit underneath. We played a business couple today, so the suit kinda worked.

I smoothed my butter-yellow skirt and pulled the hem of my sleeveless ivory blouse over the sheath at the small of my back as Eli stepped up beside me. He rested a hand above the handle of my sword, his big palm flat against me, and leaned close to press a kiss to my temple.

He inhaled, as though savoring the smell of my hair, my perfume, or maybe just me, before he whispered, “You look beautiful.”

His velvety tone sent a warm shudder rippling through me, his touch tempting me to lean closer. I resisted, stiffening, and took a deliberate step forward away from his hand. “Thanks. We need to focus, though. Hands to ourselves, okay?”

I glanced back to see confusion flicker across his brows. Doubt warred within his expression, and I could hear his thoughts debating why I didn’t want him to touch me. He was changing, becoming more like the other Fallen every day, suspicious and insecure, and it broke my heart.

I sighed. “When you touch me, all I can think about is stripping naked and climbing you like a tree. Not the best idea right now.”

His expression lifted almost instantly, and he smiled. “Lead the way.”

The steps up to the house curved to the left then straightened, cutting into the hillside much like the driveway. At the top, a large cement patio, decorated with white Adirondack chairs with green striped cushions, leveled the area before the front door. A wrought-iron fence accented a low brick wall around the patio, with two green topiaries shading the narrow windows on either side of the arched entrance. The look was typical for the neighborhood, and so not what I would expect to see outside of a college frat house, although as far as I knew, these guys weren’t part of any fraternity.

I stopped at the door, finding my balance on the four-inch, nude-colored heels I’d worn. I hated wearing high heels, and anything over flat foot was high. I didn’t appreciate dresses or skirts much, either. I was strictly a jeans and T-shirt kinda girl. Everything else was too much work and didn’t respond well in hand-to-hand fights.
Priorities. I got mine.

But today I wasn’t Emma Jane Hellsbane, half-angel warrior of God. I was Ms. Hellsbane, spiffy businesswoman, here to check on a new investment while secretly insinuating myself into my half brother’s life, so if trouble came knocking, I’d be the one he’d call.

I jabbed a finger against the glowing doorbell button, listening to the deep tolling sound echoing on the other side. A few seconds passed. I heard voices: someone yelling about answering the door, another person shouting it was probably that lady who bought the house from that company, United America, Inc.

Was I?
Jukar hadn’t told me who he’d bought the house from.

The door jerked open, and I jumped before I could stop myself. The kid on the other side smiled in smug satisfaction as though my startle was worth his resentment at having to answer the door. “Can I help you?”

I forced a smile and gave him a quick once-over: navy blue sweater vest, blue button-up shirt, dark tie, light slacks. He was a good-looking kid, probably nineteen or twenty, with a thick head of golden blond hair and dark blue eyes.

“Hello, I’m Ms. Hellsbane, your new landlord.” I offered my hand. “I believe the realty company told you I’d be stopping by for a final inspection.”

The young blond leaned forward enough to take my hand, and the second he did, my stomach dropped into the soles of my feet like a quick dip on a high roller coaster. The sensation marked him as nephilim. Was this Abram? Was this my half brother?

“Yeah, they called us yesterday.” He waved for us to follow. “C’mon in. I’m Pete. Pete Murray.”

I exhaled, fought to hold my smile, and stepped inside, though the nervous jitters in my stomach doubled. “This is my business partner, Eli, um…Smith.”

“Sir. Good to meet you.” Pete pivoted, reached to shake Eli’s hand, then continued through the tall foyer. Thick wood furniture polished to a high gloss, plush carpets, and big, finely dressed windows decorated the enormous house. A wide staircase filled the space in front of us. Carpeted in forest green, the stairs stretched up to a landing that split in either direction.

When Pete gestured to the right, I stole a glance to the left, noting a large dining room with a long table that shone in the late afternoon light. Beyond the staircase, I caught a glimpse of wide French doors at the far back of the house but followed Pete into the long living room where four college guys sat.

“Gentlemen, we have guests.” He kicked the leg of the nearest chair. The boy sitting there jumped and glared back at Pete before he got to his feet.

The rest of the boys each put down their books or laptops and rose to their feet. They all dressed like good little upwardly mobile young men: shirts, ties, dress slacks, and shiny shoes. Was that for my benefit, or was this really what they wore hanging out in their house while reading and doing homework?
That’s twisted.
My personal preference for frump attire may have colored my opinion.

I stopped caring about their wardrobe the second the first college boy stepped up.

He had to be over six feet tall with a blond buzz -cut and robin’s egg-blue eyes. He offered his hand. “Tom Windfeld.”

I held my breath, waiting out the sinking feeling that dropped through my stomach. He was nephilim, just like Pete, and when I met his eyes, I saw the pained creases at the corners and knew he’d felt it, too.

“You bought the house?” Tom asked.

I swallowed the unsettling response and forced a smile. “I did.”

He nodded, straightening to look down his nose at me. “Interesting.”

Eli leaned forward, offering his hand. “Eli Smith. Ms. Hellsbane’s associate. Nice to meet you.”

The young man took Eli’s hand and offered an acknowledging nod. “Sir.”

Eli’s seductive silken voice oozed through my mind, like a casual touch, an innocent brush of hands. “
Another Nephilim.”

I shuddered against the bone-melting sensation.
“Picked up on that, did you?”

I’d lowered my mental shields to answer him and left my thoughts thinly protected until we knew better what the heck was going on. The trouble was keeping a handle on the quick spike to my libido his angelic voice stroked through me. I forced a smile for the next boy.

Velvety blue eyes peeked out from under a shock of chocolate brown hair as the boy offered his hand. “Ma’am. I’m Andy Tail— Wow.” He grabbed his stomach, right when mine did the same fast drop and bounce. He glanced at Tom and Pete, then back to the two remaining young men in the room still heading my way. He’d felt it, too, and with a chuckle that seemed more from nerves than humor, he finished, “Tailgate. Andy Tailgate. Hello, Mr. Smith, sir.”

Eli shook the boy’s hand after I did, glancing my way from the corner of his eye when he felt Andy’s dormant nephilim power. He straightened, wearing the same tense smile I’d plastered on my face.

Three nephilim living in the same house as my half brother?
Coincidence? Not friggin’ likely.
And after shaking hands with the two other boys, brothers who my stomach told me were also both nephilim, I was convinced nothing about the situation was an accident.

“No. Not likely a coincidence.”
Eli’s voice set off a rush of goose bumps down my spine.

I shivered, lifting my chin, hoping no one noticed.

“It’s perfect, right? She’s perfect,” Andy said to the brothers after they’d shaken my hand and stepped back with matching grimaces turned to grins. He folded his arms across his belly, grinning like a Cheshire cat, and looked to Pete. “You gotta get Abe.”

“He’s blogging.” Pete shoved his hands in his pockets, his face creased with discomfort. He looked at me. “Abe knows you’re here, though. He’ll be down when he’s done.”

I nodded like I understood, but then asked. “Who’s Abe?”

“Abram Marino?” He’d made it a question as though I ought to recognize the name. I did, but he wasn’t supposed to know that.

Espionage is exhausting. I shook my head, pretending the name meant nothing.

“Oh. I just assumed the realty company gave you him as a contact.” Pete hiked a thumb toward the staircase. “He’s kind of in charge of things when it comes to the house.”

“When it comes to everything.” Andy chuckled with the other boys while still hugging his belly.

Pete threw them a chastising glance that shut off the low, male laughter like a switch. He ran his hand through his hair, then he turned a polished smile to me. “Abe just kind of knows things before the rest of us. That’s all.”

He could’ve meant Abe was well informed and diligent, but I doubted it. As the daughter of an archangel, my abilities had begun to surface years before my powers had been unleashed by Tommy’s sword and I’d been recruited into the ranks of illorum. I’d been able to feel others’ emotions, and that ability gave me an edge over normal humans. I wouldn’t be surprised if something similar happened with my half brother.

When Jukar decided the time was right, he’d likely send one of his goons to Abram with a black gibborim sword to fully bring him into his powers. Until then, if he was like me, the kid’s powers might leak like an old tire, a small trickle of ability that only hinted at the true power within. It’s not easy canning up that much angelic DNA inside a human body, and Abram and I had the most potent angel mojo surging through our veins.
Poor kid. Poor me.

My heart picked up its pace. I couldn’t wait to meet him. Had his powers made his childhood as much of a challenge as mine had? How alike were we? How different?

One difference was clear. I had never been surrounded by so many nephilim at once. “There are twelve of you, right?”

I would bet they were all nephilim. I knew Abram was, but did they? Just as they’d reacted to me, and me to them, they’d react to each other every time they came near. It was a nephilim thing that most people never understood and lessened the more you were around the same person. But did these guys know what it meant? Did they know what they were? More importantly, was their gathering an accident or by design?

“Jukar had a hand in it, no doubt.”
Eli’s words in my thoughts were like a breath-stealing kiss.

I sucked a quick breath. I couldn’t take it.
“Yep. Thanks. Let’s talk later. Okay?”
I slammed my mind shut to him, like tensing a muscle, before he could say another word, before he could touch me again.
Crap
. How was I supposed to keep him out of my bed when everything he did made me want to pull the covers over our heads and forget the world?