Eve of Chaos (7 page)

“I’m already
sold,” Eve said. “Hostile takeover.”

Angel...

There were two
guards at the security desk, one mortal and one Mark. The mortal took her badge
and ran it through a scanner to record their entry time.

Gadara’s
security measures weren’t any more rigorous than the majority of corporations,
but they were certainly monitored more closely. Instead of keeping watch on
things with a celestially enhanced eye, the archangels were forced by the
empathy-for-mortals rule to rely on modern mortal technology. They could choose
to do otherwise, but there were consequences. That was one of many things that
drove Eve nuts about the Almighty. He claimed to give people a “choice,” but
usually the ramifications of making the wrong choice ensured it wasn’t much of
a contest.

“Great bike,”
the mortal guard said to Eve.

“It’s his.” She
gestured toward Alec with a tilt of her head.

“I should let my girl drive.”

Alec raked Eve with a heated glance. “It
definitely has its benefits.”

She pushed the sign-in sheet back over.
“Elevators working yet?”

“Yes. Finally.” The relief in the guard’s
voice made her smile. Patrolling the three stories without a lift would be a
breeze for the Mark, but for the mortal it was probably more of a workout than
he wanted from his job.

“Thanks.”

As Eve headed toward the elevators, she noted
the limestone floors and pointed arch facades that surrounded the brass
elevator doors. A rose window took prominence at the rear of the building just above
the exit. She made a mental -note to look into the identity of the architect.
The building’s style was incongruous among its modern glass-hulled neighbors,
but not in a garish way. It provided an elegance that the surrounding area had
been lacking.

The moment the elevator doors shut, Alec’s
presence overwhelmed the enclosed space. He stood opposite her• with his hands
wrapped around the handrail behind him, his biceps and pectorals prominently
displayed by his stance. His dark gaze was slightly mocking and more than a
little insolent in his appraisal. It turned her on, and she shifted her weight
from one foot to the other.

The Novium was a
pain in the ass.

It didn’t help
that sex was like breathing to Marks. The constant near-death experiences created
tension that was best alleviated with extended hot sex. The need was designed
to force Marks to seek out companionship and comfort from others, rather than
retreating into themselves. Eve’s platonic double-dating meant she didn’t have
the stress outlet she needed. Even if that wasn’t the case, Alec was different.
The softer emotions he used to have in his eyes when he looked at her were
gone. He wanted her, and she believed him when he said that he would always
want her, but great sex wasn’t enough for her. Not after knowing what it was
like to have more.

“What’s the best
thing about being an archangel?” she asked in an attempt to keep her mind out
of the bedroom.

“Relief from the
rising cost of transportation.”

“Be serious.”

“You want the
Hallmark card answer? Making a difference.” He straightened as the car came to
a stop. “No one knows better than me how difficult it is to be a Mark. There
are aspects of Gadara Enterprises that I can tweak to make things easier on
those in the field.”

There was no inflection
in his voice, no passion. She wondered how he could function that way. God felt
it was necessary for the archangels to be emotionally neutral, but Eve called
‘em like she saw them—they were unfeeling—and she couldn’t imagine that being
anything but miserable.

I feel what
you feel,
Alec said, watching her
intensely.
Ifeel what Abel feels, as well as echoes from every Mark under
me.

So he knew what
it was like for her to love him and he knew what it was like for Abel to want
her. Maybe that’s where his uncustomary sexual aggression was coming from.

Or maybe it
was coming from that dark place inside him...

Regardless, the
whole thing was screwed six ways to Sunday.

Eve sighed and
turned her attention to the opening elevator doors.

The third floor
was a notable change from the lobby. Ceiling fixtures had yet to be installed,
the walls needed paint, and the industrial pile burgundy carpet had yet to be
trimmed along the missing baseboards.

“So,” she began,
leading the way to the roof staircase, “you wanted to know why I was eager to
come here.”

“Shoot.”

“When I went
through this building the first time, I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t
know what to look for, where the threats were, what was out of place. I need to
see it again. Retrace my steps. I feel like I missed something and it’s driving
me nuts.”

Alec’s hand
wrapped around her elbow. She’d dressed in a pale pink sleeveless shell and
well-worn jeans. The outfit was comfortable, feminine, and allowed for ease of
movement.

“We don’t get to
decide when it’s time for things to happen, angel. We just roll with the
punches and have faith that everything happens for a reason.”

“I don’t have
faith in a divine plan, you know that. I think life is what we make of it and
God throws curve- balls on a whim just to keep his days interesting.”

“Watch it,” he
admonished, as if lightning might strike her in the enclosed space. Eve
wouldn’t be surprised. The Lord had yet to do her any favors.

They stepped
into the stairwell. Warm, stagnant air rushed around them, in stark contrast to
the cooler air-conditioning of the occupied areas. The heavy metal door thudded
shut and images of Reed flooded her mind. He’d branded her with the Mark of
Cain in the stairwell of Gadara Tower, a raw and violent coupling that would
forever be burned in her memory.

If you don’t
stop thinking about that,
Alec warned
roughly,
I’ll replace that memory with another one. Right now.

She blanked her
mind quickly.

The Alec she had
once known would never have made such a threat. Seduce her, yes. Make love to
her until she couldn’t move or think, yes. But primal fucking was Reed’s style.
Alec had been a lover. Eve didn’t know how to deal with the new version of him.
He was more aggressive, less patient. More like the biblical Cain, she
supposed. The side of him she had never seen. She knew she would enjoy whatever
he did to her—he wouldn’t tolerate otherwise—but she couldn’t risk sinking
deeper. She was already neck- deep as it was.

The roof door
opened above them.

“Pretty Mark
came back’ a tengu singsonged, followed by a frenzied thumping as it jumped for
joy. “And Cain, too. Time to play.”

Tengu were
mischievous creatures. They lacked initiative and ambition, so they fell pretty
low on the “must-vanquish” scale. Reed likened them to mosquitoes—annoying and
you wished they didn’t exist, but not as disgusting as rats. They infiltrated
establishments as decorations, then worked to cause distress and anxiety in the
inhabitants. Buildings with tengu had higher suicide rates than those that
didn’t. Higher rates of business failures, extortion, eviction, embezzlement,
and adultery. Tengu infestation was the cause of community decline, dead malls,
and ghost towns. In packs, they could be deadly, or at the very least,
seriously destructive.

The door slammed
shut and a riotous banging resounded on the roof, the sound of little stone
feet dancing. Lots of feet. Lots of dancing.

“Damn, you’re
good,” Alec said.

Eve sighed.
Sometimes, she hated being right.

 
“What are you doing,
mon chéri?”

Reed stiffened
at the sound of the familiar purring voice. Glancing over his shoulder, he met
the calculated gaze of Sarakiel, one of the seven earthbound archangels. She
walked into Cain’s office as if she owned it.

“That’s none of
your business,” he drawled.

“I hear Cain has
returned to the field with Evangeline. Perhaps that is why you are rummaging
through his office? ‘While the cat is away.
. .‘
as they say.”

The manner in
which Sara said Eve’s name spoke volumes. She still coveted Reed, even though
they had split ages before Eve was born. The head of the European firm of Marks
was often assumed by theologians to be a male. Their mistake was laughable.
Sarakiel was a woman in every sense of the word, one who shared his penchant
for rough sex and designer clothing.

He pushed the
top drawer of Cain’s filing cabinet shut. The archangels usually stayed within
their own territory. They didn’t like to defer to each other, which was
expected when entering another firm’s boundaries. It was also dangerous to have
archangels in close proximity to one another. Infernals would love to cripple
multiple firms with a single blow. But Sara was here because she had requested
to assist Cain with his assumption of Raguel’s firm. She’d been given her
desire because it was her personal guards who had assisted Cain and Eve in
Upland. She was lauded for being proactive, when the only reason she’d lent her
team was because Reed had paid her with the use of his body. Now, her mentor-
ship of his brother kept her uncomfortably near his business.

“What do you
want, Sara?”

“What do I
always want when I see you?”

A ripple of
disquiet moved through him. “Not today, darling. I have a headache.”

Her lips thinned
at the blatant lie.
Mal’akhs
were impervious to mortal maladies. Still,
the beauty of her features was unaffected by her anger. Tall, willowy yet fully
curved, Sara was physically perfect in a way mortal women spent thousands of
dollars to replicate. Her pale blonde hair and angelic features were so
compelling, they were the impetus that funded her finn. Sara Kiel Cosmetics was
a worldwide phenomenon, with sales inspired by the unequaled face of its owner.
There had been a time when the mere sight of her could make Reed’s blood heat
dangerously, but no longer. Now his focus was narrowed to one particular
brunette.

Sara stepped
farther into the room with her distinctive sashay, her red silk pantsuit
whispering seductively as she approached. She reminded him of a tigress—golden,
lithe, predatory. “You have a dreadful way of showing gratitude.”

“You haven’t
done a damn thing for me, Sara, aside from the occasional orgasm.” Reed
shrugged. “I can get that anywhere.”

“You used to
only want them from me.”

“That was a long
time ago.” Knowing that appearances spoke volumes to her, he sank into Cain’s
large leather office chair and forced his frame to relax into the plush back.

“You want what
he has,” she taunted, sinking into the visitor’s seat on the other side of the
desk. A wave of her hand encompassed the entire room, a corner office that
boasted two walls of windows, a private bathroom with closet and shower, and a
glass and chrome desk with industrial styling. Leaning forward, she ran her
fingertips over the silver picture frame that held a black and white photo of
Evangeline. “You always have.”

“I want what I
deserve, what I’ve proven myself capable of handling.”

“And Cain keeps
getting it first.”

“That works in my
favor. He always fucks things up and makes me look good.”

All of his life,
Reed had been the one to follow the rules and surpass expectations. He was
perfect, damn it. Perfect for advancement, perfect for heading a firm. It made
no sense that his brother was the one promoted. Cain didn’t want responsibility
of any kind and he’d been a nomad for too long. He had never learned to play
well with others.

Sara pouted. “1
am trying to help you, and you are not giving me any credit. I sent Izzie here,
did I not?”

“I’m supposed to
thank you for that?” He had been indiscreet with the blonde and Eve had caught
him at it. Now, every time she saw Izzie, the memory stung her and caused him
to lose what little ground he gained in his attempts to win her.