My Avenging Angel (3 page)

Shit. If he got a hard-on Zadkiel would never let him live it down.

“Maybe if you’d had something of interest to impart, I’d have stuck around.”

“How’s this, lord asshole? A report has come in from Skath. A witch managed to scry upon one of Lucifer’s high-ranking lieutenants.”

“Who?” Michael demanded, letting the asshole comment slide because when Lucifer’s name was uttered in his presence, the rage flooding his system usually prevented him from concentrating on anything else. The knife his
once
best friend had quite literally embedded in his back was not something Michael had ever thought he would forget. Until today. Today the all-encompassing fury was replaced with something feeling suspiciously like fear.

Zadkiel cocked his head to the side, studying Michael for a moment. Holding his breath, Michael waited for the smart-ass comment that never came.

“Asmodeus. He’s somewhere in the Houston area.”

As the air rushed from his lungs, Michael nodded, glancing away. If Asmodeus was in Houston he was far from Boston and Tory. “Gather a team and keep me informed. I want to know every move he makes before the bastard makes it.”

“Michael, what’s going on?”

Michael had turned to leave, wanting to gather a few things from his room before he returned to Tory, but Zadkiel’s quiet question stopped him in his tracks. He sighed. It wasn’t like he was particularly surprised. He didn’t usually get involved in the hunt unless it was for one of the top-ten ruling archdemons. He commanded and his lieutenants followed. It was how things had worked before Ariadne had pulled him into this mess. Before Tory.

“I have the chance to fix things with Gabriel. It’s a long shot, but a shot nonetheless, and one I can’t pass up.”

“What? How?”

Michael smiled at Zadkiel’s surprised excitement. He’d have shared Zadkiel’s joy if only he didn’t fear there was much more at risk than Gabriel’s friendship. Michael suspected his entire way of life was in peril, his very soul in jeopardy.

“I believe I know what Asmodeus is after, but I do not understand why. There is a human he hunts, one I have vowed to protect.” At Zadkiel’s cocked eyebrow, Michael sighed. “It is a long story, but Ariadne’s spirit had latched onto the human and it was to her I have given my vow. I can only hope once Asmodeus has been destroyed and the human’s safety is ensured, my debt to Gabriel will have been repaid.”

“Just like that?” Zadkiel questioned, his tone laced with skepticism.

Glancing over his shoulder, Michael shrugged. Truly, he doubted it, but it was the first chance he’d ever gotten to repair the mess with Gabriel. He suspected the only way he’d ever receive Gabriel’s forgiveness was by experiencing the soul-crushing death of a mate. His mate. And Michael swore there wasn’t a chance in hell of that ever occurring. His job did not include a mate, no matter what Victoria Bloom made him feel.

“Let me deal with this human, Michael. If you vowed to protect her, wouldn’t it make more sense for you to lead the hunt? There is no one more capable.”

Michael turned back to Zadkiel. Here was his chance. Though he had given his vow to Ariadne, technically since she was not the one who had called him into the circle, he was not required to uphold his end and he could send Zadkiel in his place. And his lieutenant was correct. Relations with humans were not exactly his forte. Hell, he’d probably end up doing more harm than good. So why did the thought of Zadkiel anywhere near Tory make him want to hit something?

The answer was something Michael would rather not consider, though he knew. Deep in his heart, he knew.

“While nothing would give me greater pleasure, the vow I gave was very explicit. I must ensure Tory’s protection.”

“Tory?” Zadkiel repeated quietly and hearing her name on his lieutenant’s lips reinforced Michael’s belief. He was screwed with a capital S. He tightened his fists to keep from popping his second in the mouth.

“Care to elaborate?” Zadkiel glanced down at Michael’s clenched fingers.

“No.” And with that snarled pronouncement, Michael stormed from the room, taking the flight of stairs two steps at a time. Stopping only when the door to his bedroom was closed tightly behind him, he was glad he had not run into anyone else. Of course, the look on his face probably would have dissuaded even the most persistent. Well, except for maybe Raphael. He enjoyed tweaking Michael’s temper for his own sadistic amusement, but since Raphael had no cause to be here Michael felt relatively safe. But just in case, maybe he should see about keeping Raphael busy for a while. Which lead his thoughts back to Tory. He definitely didn’t need Raphael showing up in the middle this assignment.

Damn it. He didn’t need this mess right now.

But the one thing Michael knew was there was no avoiding it. Few angels suspected the truth about mating, and the small minority who had found theirs believed themselves to be the exception. It was a lie, of course. Across time, across space, across dimensions, there was a soul mate out there for each one of them. Angels had been created with the capacity for great love, and what grander love existed than the unselfish bonding of two individuals?

Stuffing articles of clothing into a duffel, Michael tried to ignore the dismay that always overcame him when he considered those early days, when Earth had been discovered and some angels had set off to occupy the planet. It was then the first changes had begun, when Lucifer had first met Lilith, when the first visions of hell had been conceived.

Sighing, Michael zipped the bag closed. He’d fought it, strived to keep Lucifer and Lilith apart, just as he’d attempted to dissuade Gabriel away from Ariadne. But neither had listened to his misgivings, and he’d been right. Both instances had turned out disastrously. Now it seemed it was his turn. Would history repeat itself once again? Or would the Fates look more kindly upon him?

Doubtful. Those bitches hated him.

Raphael had once suggested bribing the trio. With chocolate. Shaking his head, Michael’s lips formed into a small smile. Raphael was always unintentionally pissing them off and getting his ass burned in the process. Michael, on the other hand, had never cared one way or the other. Guess it helped the Fates were terrified of him.

Throwing the duffel over his shoulder, Michael left his room, wondering if this was the last time he would be gracing these four walls. Or was he destined to return a haunted shell like Gabriel?

Maybe he should pay the Fates a visit, see if Tory had crossed their notice. But then he decided that would just be asking for trouble. No need drawing attention if there wasn’t any.

Exiting the Hall of Powers, Michael surveyed the landscaping making up Heaven. It was one of many different dimensions. There were others, like Hell, Fairie, Merwood and Earth, where humans and those with human origins could travel between, but it was believed the only entrance into Heaven for those earthbound was through death. Michael was one of the few who knew differently. It was another lie, propagated to prevent the fallen from attempting to surge the Pearly Gates. If they could only find them. Finding the entrance to Heaven, that was the trick.

Michael and the rest of the angels were not tied to the Earth like their human counterparts, but aside from that fact, they had far more in common with the species then most would be willing to admit. Hell, humans were the children of angels, after all.

Damn Kronos and Rhea for starting this mess. If they’d kept their hands off each other he wouldn’t be in his current position.

Shaking his head, Michael concentrated on his intended target, visualizing Tory before teleporting back to her. A moment passed as he tried to get his bearings. The small enclosure was hot and filled with a fine mist that obscured his vision. It took Michael those few seconds to determine where he was, and when he finally did the duffel slid from his fingers. Tory was before him, naked as the day she’d been born, standing under the spray of water, a clear glass door the only thing separating them.

For one split second, Michael wondered how long it would take him to strip off his clothes and join her.

Blonde hair, darkened by the flow of water, cascaded down a slender back, the ends coming to rest an inch or two above a tight, heart-shaped ass. His body tightened, his dick lengthening and hardening against the zipper of his jeans. Then Tory turned and Michael almost swallowed his tongue.

Dipping her head under the shower head, she arched her back, thrusting small, perky breasts into the air. Involuntarily, his hands rose, reaching for those mounds and the cherry-tipped nipples proudly on display. Barely taller than a pixie, Tory was mostly long sleek legs, legs he wanted wrapped around him.

Groaning softly, Michael clenched his fists, forcing them back down to his sides. What he wouldn’t give to drop to his knees, burying his face in the blonde curls shielding her sex; to free his dick and sink into bliss. Harder than steel and pulsing with need, his dick more than agreed. But his brain, the sliver not blood deprived, recognized something was wrong with the scene before him, and he desperately clung to that thought.

Then it hit him.

“Why the hell aren’t you where I left you, safe within the circle of protection?” he bellowed, causing Tory to let loose a shriek, her hands jerking in a vain attempt to shield her nakedness from his view. But her image had been burned into his mind and Michael already recognized what a lost cause it was. He would have her, of which there was no doubt. The question was would he be able to keep her?

Eyes wide, Tory stared at him, and Michael wondered if maybe he had been right when he’d first believed her to be dim-witted. It would just be his luck. There was little he found more irritating than stupidity and incompetence. His time with her would be doomed before it ever even began.

“Get me a towel,” she finally snapped, and when he didn’t jump to do her bidding, Tory added, “Now.”

For such a little thing, she sure had balls.

“Well, don’t just stand there.”

Michael barely suppressed the grin from breaking free. “Maybe if you asked nicely I would be more inclined to do your bidding. Otherwise, I can continue to enjoy the view.”

Michael was pretty certain he could hear her teeth grinding from across the bathroom. “Please.”

“Oh, you can do better than that,” he purred in delight as her eyes narrowed. Apparently she was neither stupid nor timid, just in need of training, and Michael was more than up for the challenge.

“Please,” Tory repeated, her softer, breathier tone going straight to his dick.

Michael reached for the towel resting on the edge of the sink before moving across the small space, stopping out of her reach, forcing Tory to leave the confines of the shower stall and come to him. Then, instead of handing it to her, Michael wrapped the towel around her shoulders. His fingers lingered over her satiny skin, sliding down her arms as his gaze held hers.

Desire leapt between them, her eyes darkening under his steady perusal. Michael couldn’t resist bending his head, capturing her lips gently. A soft moan escaped her, parting her lips and allowing his tongue access to the wet cavern. With a slow sweep, Michael tasted Tory, a mixture of honey and vanilla, a taste he could easily become addicted to.

As the flame burned bright, licking across his skin in waves of intense heat, the kiss grew demanding, and Michael pulled Tory against him, her damp skin clinging to his T-shirt, her puckered nipples grazing his chest. It took every ounce of control Michael had not to bend his head and suck one of those little beads into his mouth.

Dragging his lips from hers, Michael moved to her ear, capturing the lobe between his teeth before whispering, “Why did you leave the protective circle, Tory?”

“Because it is daylight,” came her fevered reply, and Michael couldn’t fault her reasoning. Demons were unable to tolerate the sun. It burned them to ashes. But while he couldn’t fault her reasoning, he didn’t have to like it.

“If you and I are going to work, when I tell you to do something, you must obey, Tory. No arguments. You must do what you are told.”

Tory jerked away from him and the loss of her in his arms hurt—far more than Michael would have ever expected. When he moved to draw her back, she skirted out of his reach.

Chapter Three

“You arrogant pig,” Tory snarled, avoiding Michael’s attempt to drag her back into his arms. What had she been thinking, rubbing against him like a cat in heat? He’d more than made his position blatantly clear. He was there for one reason and one reason only, because Ari had forced a pledge out of him. Had she no pride?

With her body screaming for Michael to finish what he had started, obviously not.

“Don’t come near me,” she scolded when Michael tried to follow her.

“Then cover yourself,” he snapped.

Tory felt her face flushing with embarrassment. In her great haste to do as ordered, Tory almost lost the tentative hold she had on the towel. She finally managed to shift it from her shoulders, securing it tightly under her arms while glaring defiantly at him.

“I was in the shower. And you were not invited.”

“You were not where I had left you.” Bending, Michael retrieved a black duffel bag from the floor, and after one last sweeping glance over her, he turned toward the door. “Get dressed,” he demanded over his shoulder. “Then we’ll talk.”