Azrael's Light [Demon Runners of Unearth] (Siren Publishing Classic) (4 page)

“You know the Greek gods always band together. At least yours is a sentence with an end. I can guarantee that Sissy’s not a happy male playing with that boulder in the abyss. And you know they picked you because they knew you would act as a diligent and respectful Runner. Sissy, not so much.”

“True.” When his thoughts strayed to the emerald-eyed beauty, he stood and stretched. What would he give to curl up next to a soft, warm body and rest for more than ten lousy fucking minutes? Anything but Earth and its mortals. Too much hinged on their survival, and they didn’t ask to have this madness brought upon them. “I need to get going and find Luc’s little girl. Take care.”

“I’ll keep my eyes and ears open. Stay safe, man.”

* * * *

Cyril watched Azrael vanish. He worried for his old friend. The male carried some serious weight on his shoulders. Now Lilith dropped this bomb on him? Combined with the grief of losing an apprentice, he didn’t know how the male handled it all.

Azrael was the most dependable immortal he knew. The Fates had known exactly what they were doing when they’d sentenced Azrael to four millennia of service. They’d gotten a tireless and responsible workhorse. Now guilt only added weight to the cross he carried.

He’d barely refrained from asking for details about what happened with Andras. He didn’t doubt Azrael’s story, but that didn’t mean it made sense. How did a Soul Runner with more than three thousand years of experience leave someone behind to fall into the abyss? Azrael had been given an enormous gift when he’d been granted an apprentice. There was no way he’d be careless with someone who would eventually share the burden of his work.

He hoped that they found Alia safe and soon. The lives of everyone on Earth and Unearth were at stake. Additionally, he didn’t know how much more stress Azrael could carry. He was the toughest bastard Cyril knew, but everyone had their limits, and Azrael had already been pushed much farther than he believed possible. He feared it was only a matter of time before the final straw was placed on Azrael’s back.

She loved closing the bar just as much as she did opening it each night. There was something peaceful about the night’s end that contrasted so sharply with the evening’s chaotic opening. The scrape and thud as chairs were picked up and placed on tabletops, the swishing of the brooms and mops brought her energy level from high down to simmer, settling her.

Her inner neat freak was appeased as glasses were washed and put away, and the bar was restocked and set to rights. The quiet also gave her a few minutes of time with her employees before they left for the night. They were her family now, and she’d be lost without them.

“Diane, everything’s taken care of. Do you need anything else before I leave?” She looked up at the tall and slender Alice, who’d become her right hand at the club in no time at all. There was actually a list of several things she’d like to have done before opening the next day, but Alice was a single mother. It was her routine to go home, send her brother-slash-babysitter home, and sleep three hours. Then she had to get up, get her little boy ready for school, and head in to her second job.

Diane would handle the list of last-minute things herself. There was no one waiting at her home for her.

“No, I’m almost finished. You go on. You’re not walking again, are you?” Alice’s slight hesitation and worried blue eyes answered the question before the lie could slip out. She ran a nervous hand through her short and spiky black hair. Diane saved her the shame the lie would cause.

“No. Absolutely not. You will not walk through the city, alone, at three a.m. I don’t care how much money it saves you. Brick!”

The towering bouncer lumbered over and stopped short when he saw Alice. An awkward silence fell as her two employees made brief eye contact before turning their heads to look at opposite walls. She had no clue what their drama was, and at the moment, she didn’t really care. Alice’s safety came first.

“Brick, you’re done here for the night. Take Alice home and make sure she makes it in the door and locks up before you leave. I’ll adjust your timecard and make sure you get paid for the time.”

“Diane, really that’s not necessary. I’ll be fine. I do it all the time. I know what happened to Marie, but I’ve got my mace and I know not to let my guard down.” Alice took a hesitant step back from the conversation, and Diane questioned if it were the conversation or the man making her nervous.

A deep rumble started before she could argue with Alice. “No deal, pixie. I’m driving you home and walking you to the door tonight and every night until we know what’s up with the beast-man terrorizing the city. Sorry, baby, boss’s orders. You’re stuck with me.”

Alice’s face turned four different shades of red, and if looks could kill, Brick would be struck breathless and stone cold in an instant. Something about the pixie endearment embarrassed her. Why, Diane had no clue. Brick may have been built like a mountain, but he was a good man. She wouldn’t have trusted Alice’s safety with anyone else.

Alice opened her mouth to argue, but when Brick glared down over her, she closed her mouth. Diane walked them to the door and locked it behind them, silently wishing them a safe journey. It might not be a long trip, but it was more littered with danger than either of them knew. When Brick referred to the beast-man, she suspected he had been more on target than he knew. It was a rare day when she missed her powers, but using them to guarantee the safety of her employees was a regret she battled every day.

As much as she preferred living as a mortal, it left her unable to protect those she loved from the real monsters roaming the streets at night. Living with one foot in each world was forbidden. For the gods of Unearth, it was all or nothing.

* * * *

Watching from the shadowed alley across from the club’s back exit, Azrael grudgingly admitted the entire situation left him confused. Not one thing about the entire scenario made any sense. He wished it were a simple black-and-white runaway story but suspected Alia’s disappearance connected to a larger picture.

He despised being left in the dark, but what did he expect? This mess was Lilith’s doing. On her best days, she was a secretive and conniving witch.

The knowledge that there was more to her story ate at him. There was a persistent nagging calling him to dig deeper, but he had no idea where to begin the search. The only lead he’d been given was the club. The club led him to the owner, a green-eyed beauty who guarded her territory like a mother bear.

Was she only protecting the den itself, or could there be someone in it? He needed answers, and he needed them now. He couldn’t waste any more time worrying over something he couldn’t control, no matter how beautiful the bear.

He grudgingly admitted that he was impressed with her strong will, even knowing that he would have to crush it into dust, which was a terrible shame.

For the first time in longer than he could remember he’d come across someone who he couldn’t read clearly. And it went well beyond the missing Kor that should be stamped on her forehead. That was only one small facet of the woman’s mystery.

The gods knew she was incredibly sexy. There was no mistaking the razor-sharp intelligence glittering in her eyes. She was clearly no pushover, and he’d met very few mortals who didn’t buckle and hang their heads in fear while standing in his shadow. He’d been frustrated with her refusal to cooperate but intrigued as he watched her stand as tall and as fierce against him as her small frame would allow. If he didn’t know better, he would think she had some demon or even a god’s blood in her. Yet he’d looked her over thoroughly and could see no evidence of the Light anywhere.

The Light was a signature that was only visible to other immortals. The strength and color of the Light varied from being to being, but it was always there radiating from their eyes, a clear identifier for all who had the ability to see. It was even possible for an immortal to have both signatures, the Light marking them as immortal and a visible Kor if their time was near. And adult humans always had the Fates’ mark upon them simply because their life spans were so short.

Except this little barmaid didn’t have the Light signature marking her as an immortal or a death glyph that marked her as a human. She had to be one or the other. The gods decreed it.

And he was certain she’d hid something from him. It was obvious she’d wanted him out of her club as soon as possible. She couldn’t know who he was or what that meant for humans, so what or who was she hiding?

And searching for Alia, Luc and Lilith’s own daughter? The more he thought on it, the more he realized his chances of finding her quickly were laughable. If she had a fraction of her mother’s deviousness or her father’s intelligence, he had his work cut out for him. If she had both of their strongest traits, he could very well spend eternity searching for her.

The morning light would soon bleed its way into the night sky, and the club had closed its doors after the last of its employees left some time ago. He knew there was no chance of finding Luc’s runaway tonight, yet he found himself skulking in the dark, watching the club’s shadows while he thought about a pair of vibrant green eyes that had no place in his thoughts.

The last dim light in the club went dark, and less than a minute later a light came on in the uppermost story of the same building. He couldn’t help but indulge in a brief fantasy of watching the brunette strip out of her clothes and step into a steaming shower.

Her sexy voice released a subtle moan as her slender fingers smoothed the lathered soap over silken skin. Small, feminine hands rubbed soap slowly over ripe breasts, and her berry nipples peaked with arousal. His mouth watered at the thought of taking them into his mouth and drawing deeply on them. His hands clenched with the need to feel their weight in his palms.

How would she taste? Would her flesh be sweet and hot or rich and decadent? Judging by the way his pants tightened uncomfortably, his cock heartily approved of his curiosity and was as eager to find out as him.

His hands fisted with the urge to bury his hands in the silk of her chocolate hair and pull her head back until the graceful arch of her neck was bared for his exploration. He’d draw in her clean scent, keep it with him forever, and taste the sweet satin skin below her ear.

When he pinned her hips to the wall of the shower and sank deep into her warmth, would she pant into his ear with each hard thrust or would she whimper and toss her head as she grew closer to climax? What would she do if he bound her hands above her head and withheld her orgasm until she became breathless with need? Helpless and immobile, she’d take only what he gave her and get no relief until he gave it to her.

He grinned and shook the vision off. He knew better than to get involved with humans. There was no way things could end happily. Likewise, relationships with immortals always resulted in complicated messes he didn’t have time for. His duties required nearly all of his waking time, and there was virtually no time for rest, let alone recreation. There was no time in his life for a committed relationship.

Once in a blue moon he might enjoy a brief sexual encounter with a mortal woman, but the knowledge of when he would have to escort her soul to its final resting place always hovered in the back of his mind, haunting him. Often he’d taken women from behind so he wouldn’t see the death glyph taunting him with each thrust.

What would it be like to enjoy a woman without knowledge of her upcoming death? No matter, whether this woman was human or immortal, every instinct he possessed screamed that she was trouble with a capital “T.”

As he stepped one foot out of his dark hollow to leave, two small shadows and one much larger manifested at the club’s back exit. They paused briefly and slid under the bottom of the heavy door.

Judging by their stealthy actions, it was a safe bet that they weren’t simply paying a friendly social call.

“Damn it all, I could have bypassed this mess if I’d left here thirty seconds sooner. I guess this is what I deserve for lusting over a human.”

Did he really want to get involved in this mess?

Did he have any choice?

They rounded the corner and headed into the employee parking lot. A breeze swept by, and Brick stepped in close, shielding her. Not quite touching her, but close enough she smelled the faintest trace of his cologne. She wished she could be annoyed, but she was too tired to play games with herself. His nearness chased the shadows from the night.

The nickname they’d given him on his first night at the club had stuck instantly. It fit him too well. He towered over her five-foot-nine-inch height, and his shoulders made him resemble a breathing brick wall. A reliable, calm, steady presence in the club, he never lost his temper, and always cleaned out the troublemakers without losing his cool. She’d learned to rely on him far too much in the club. She couldn’t allow that outside work as well.

They reached the far edge of the lot, and she stopped dead in her tracks. She’d forgotten.

“What’s wrong? Haven’t you ever ridden on a motorcycle?” She wasn’t sure the sleek and menacing, all-black street bike qualified as just a motorcycle. Bad memories surfaced as the machine stared at her with its alien-shaped eyes. Headlights, they were headlights, not eyes, and it wasn’t a living monster. It was nothing more than a metal machine used for transportation. Fast and deadly transportation.