Lucca (2 page)

He told her not to be afraid. How could she
not be when she stood before an angel who could read her thoughts?
In a few moments he would know all her secrets.

“You’ve tasted the blood of the Nephilim,”
he said. “This is good. This is very good.”

Her brows furrowed. She didn’t know what he
meant. “I know no… Neff Linn.”
Tasted blood?
Her tongue felt
thick and useless in her mouth. His eyes glowed more silver than
blue as his hold on her strengthened. Then he pushed inside her
mind again, but a different intrusion. Images, places and people,
who wore strange clothing, flashed inside her head like a dream.
Only she did not sleep.

Rafe spoke, but his lips did not move. “I’m
teaching you the ways of the world to come, for you may not stay in
this time and place. I am Raziel, the angel of secrets and
mysteries. I will access the time portal.”

Stop.
She tried to tell him, but he
wouldn’t listen. He filled her head with knowledge and confessed
his sins to her.

“I fell in love with your sister even though
it was forbidden. I will accept my fate and take the punishment,
but I will not stand by and let my son suffer for my sins. You must
raise Owen in another century.”

No
. Her lips would not obey her to
speak the word, but she shouted in her mind and knew Rafe… Raziel
heard her.

“Do not fight me, Juliet. Think of the
pledge you swore to Marie. Remember her. Do this not for me, but
for her.”

Her eyes filled with tears, blurring her
vision, but still it did not release her from Raziel’s grip. Marie
was gone. Owen was all that was left of her dear sister. At all
cost, she must keep Owen safe. She promised.

Her shoulders relaxed in acceptance, letting
the magic wash over her.

Chapter Two

Southern California

Present Time

Two Hashasheen demons gripped Lucca’s arms
as they dragged him out the back door of
World’s End
, a pub
where preternatural beings and humans mingled. The crushing grip on
his shoulders forced him to his knees. Kordon, the Prince of
Darkness in the Hashasheen court, circled him, debris in the alley
crunching beneath his heavy boots. His white hair flowed long and
heavy down his back like streams of moonbeams falling to earth. His
dark eyes blazed like pools of dark red droplets. His two henchmen
stood nearby, waiting for Kordon to give his orders.

The stench in the alley smelled like
something crawled out of the sewer to die, most likely a rat or
something just as vile. In a few moments, Lucca knew he might be
joining the corpse that lay rotting among the littered remains
people left behind. Just think, he managed to piss off the right
males all before the
Happy Hour
folks arrived.

His lips curved, actually enjoying his final
scene in the human realm. How fitting for it to end here.
World’s End. Well his end anyway.
Stripped of his
wings—courtesy of the Watchers, his brethren—he wouldn’t stand a
chance against three Hashasheen demons. Dying by the demons’ hands,
in the stink-filled alley, would be poetic justice. At least Eli
Grigori and his human mate would think so.

Maybe he shouldn’t have sent the Hashasheen
demons after Eli and his mate, but at the time it seemed like a
good idea. Rid the world of a Watcher gone rogue in his pursuit of
the mythical soul mate, but as it turned out, the elders weren’t so
pleased with Lucca’s actions. Of course, Eli had proven his case
about soul mates being the real deal. The elders viewed his attempt
to kill Eli as a vindictive pretense and not the act of a Watcher
trying to preserve the brethrens’ beliefs.

Lucca’s gaze wavered to the demon standing
to the left of him with his arms crossed over his massive chest.
The other demon stood behind him. He may not be able to see him,
but he smelled the sulfuric odor wafting off him like putrid
scented cologne.

Kordon dictated the private party’s
festivities. He stood in front of him now, his gaze wavering over
him with disgust.

“What are you waiting for?” Lucca goaded
him, wanting to hurry this along.

“I want my payment, you promised me.” He
leaned in close, his foul breath making Lucca want to gag. “Where
are the Tomes of Nasarm?”

He chuckled in disbelief. This is why they
jumped him in the bar? The Tomes of Nasarm were stolen by his
father over two centuries ago and stored in the
Vault
, his
father’s secret stash of ancient tomes and artifacts. The Tomes of
Nasarm contained Hashasheen prophecies, or so he heard. He never
read the tome himself. His father thrived on taking what others
cherished. The Hashasheen’s high priest owed his father a boon and
couldn’t pay. So being the charmer his father was known to be, he
slit the high priest’s throat and took the artifact. “Why would I
hand the tomes over to you? Eli still lives.” He spat out the blood
pooling in his mouth. Must have bitten his cheek when one of the
goons slugged him before he could duck.

Kordon moved away in a huff, waving his hand
in dismissal of the fact. “You informed us Eli’s powers were
bound.”

“They were.”

Kordon whirled on him. “But you did not tell
us he had body guards. My people were up against a small army.”

“I thought you Hashasheens were a tough lot,
but I’ve come to realize this is not the case. The small army you
speak of consisted of a Watcher and a Darklin. Face it, your
assassins failed.”

The Hashasheen behind Lucca moved swiftly.
The demon’s fist met his flesh in a vicious blow. Lucca’s body went
down hard, adding pressure to his bruised ribs and knocking the
wind out of him. Before he could draw in a breath, the Hashasheen
demon grabbed his shirt and hauled him up for another
fist-meets-face
game of fun.

“Enough,” Kordon stopped him. “He’s no use
to me dead.”

Good to know where this game was
heading.
Lucca leaned forward, gripping his knees and breathing
through his mouth. Blood dripped down his face, but he made no
attempt to wipe it away as he waited for his vision to clear. His
stomach churned, threatening to heave up what he had for dinner.
Lasagna and meatballs, this wasn’t going to be pretty.

Lucca felt the power surge shimmering around
them and knew another preternatural had joined them. Great, they
thought they needed another set of fists. He glanced up, trying to
focus, but Kordon and the new arrival looked like blurred water
figures as his vision went in and out of focus.

Their voices floated toward him in bits and
pieces, syllables sounding like grunts and harsh flares of
anger.

“Convince him… tomes… need… key…get it,” the
newcomer grumbled with authority.

Who posed a higher rank than the Prince of
Darkness in the Hashasheen court that he gave orders in barking
demands? The way the newcomer stood, his stance…the protruding
wings… Wings? A Watcher or a Darklin? Lucca frowned. The newcomer
spoke again, his voice sending a chill down his spine in
recognition. “It can’t be.” He narrowed his eyes, blinked, hoping
to focus on the male, but the attempt only proved to make him more
nauseous. The elders allowed his healing abilities, but with his
wings bound, healing proved slower.

A flash of light and the newcomer vanished,
leaving Lucca to the Hashasheens once again.

Kordon strode back over to him. “I want the
tomes,” Kordon demanded.

“There’s things I’d like too, but life isn’t
always fair. If you haven’t noticed, my powers are limited. I’m
bound to this world and unable to flit across realms in search of
the tomes you wish to possess.”

Kordon withdrew the knife sheathed at his
side. “Then perhaps you are no use to me.”

“Finally,” Lucca whispered, resigned to meet
his end. He would no longer have to endure living in the human
realm surrounded by irrational beings inferior to him. He closed
his eyes, waiting for the blade to make its mark.

A gust of wind blew Lucca’s long hair in his
face. He opened his eyes, his gaze riveting on the fallen
Hashasheen dead at his feet — well, actually his knees. Shot
through the heart with an arrow.

“Dammit, Gideon,” he hissed at the Watcher’s
untimely arrival. Gideon used his glamour as a shield, but his
signature weapon of choice had a distinct message. The end of the
arrow had dark green feathers with the ends dipped in gold.

“This is not over,” Kordon vowed before
disappearing in a whirl of gray smoke, his other henchman
following, leaving their fallen comrade. The slain demon’s body
hissed and smoked as it melted into a thick tar-like substance.

With effort, Lucca rose to his feet, wiping
the side of his bloodied mouth with the back of his hand.

Gideon used his glamour, appearing in front
of him wearing black leather and a bow flung over his right
shoulder, giving him the appearance of a modern day
Robin
Hood
with one wing. His spiked auburn hair and the dangling
skull earring only added to the hoodlum attire. Gideon’s green eyes
narrowed in on him with a look of disgust and pity.

Disgust, Lucca would take. Pity proved to
only piss him off.

“Why do you do this, Lucca?” Gideon shook
his head.

“I could ask you the same thing. Really, can
a man not die in peace?”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Lucca,
the warrior who led legions of men to fight wars and won many
battles, proving him a true hero, is rolling over and asking to die
like a dog.”

“Why not just stab me in the heart, Gideon.
My warrior days took place a lifetime ago.”

“So you’ve become a coward then.”

His eyes narrowed with warning. “Watch how
you wag that tongue of yours.”

Gideon’s ruddy brows rose high on his
forehead, not in the least bit put off. “Or what? You’ll offer
yourself up for me to slay?” He snorted, his disgust evident in his
words. “You’ve been banished to the humans’ realm, deal with
it.”

“Deal with it? How’s it going with you?” His
gaze slid over him. “You know being a one-winged freak and all? Is
that working for you?” For a moment, he thought he’d burrowed under
the Watcher’s skin and found the weakness he sought, but the male
proved stronger willed than he thought.

“You can try to push me away, but I’ll hold
fast. I know what you’re doing and it will not work with me.”

He harrumphed and strode past him. If
insults wouldn’t drive the Fallen Angel away, maybe indifference
would.

“Where are you going?” Gideon called after
him with a curse. When he didn’t answer, Gideon jogged to catch up
to him.

Lucca glanced at him without slowing his
steps. “Do you really plan on striding down the street with a bow
and arrow?” At least the Watcher had shifted to his human
existence, losing his one good wing and looking somewhat human.

With a flash of glamour, his weapons
disappeared, too. “Happy now?”

“Loads.”

“I see your sarcasm still suits you.”

“Don’t you have a soul mate or something to
hunt down? I thought all the Nephilim would be jumping at the
chance to ogle potential humans? What are you doing shadowing me?”
The night turned chilly from the warm afternoon, but he welcomed
the breeze feathering over his bruised skin.

“Someone’s gotta watch your back.”

His chuckle hid nothing of his disdain. “I
have no wish for your help, Gideon.”

“Believe me, you do. Don’t think I
recognized your
pity party of doom
back there.”

This halted Lucca’s steps, making Gideon
backtrack. “Pity party?” Lucca spat.

“Yeah, get life over with and all that
malarkey.” Gideon’s hand shot out to grab Lucca’s arm in a firm
grip. Gideon’s gaze wavered over Lucca’s flesh with a keen eye.
“Just as I thought, not a scuffed knuckle. You didn’t even defend
yourself.”

Lucca yanked his hand free. “So?”

“So? Is that all you have? You wanted the
demons to take you down.” Gideon didn’t ask, he stated the
complaint as a fact.

Lucca’s nostrils flared against his will,
but damn the Watcher for interfering in his destiny. “I’ll thank
you to mind your own business.” He brushed by him and didn’t bother
looking back when Gideon called after him.

“Not going to happen. You’re stuck with
me.”

“Good Lord,” he swore under his breath.
Stuck in the human realm and with a one-winged freak to remind
me how much my life sucks. Just bloody brilliant.
“If you don’t
mind, I would—” His words lodged in his throat, making speech
impossible. An intoxicating scent filled his nostrils as if he
snorted the substance on purpose and lodged it in his nasal
cavity.

“You would what?” Gideon strode in even
steps beside him.

The luscious aroma swirled around Lucca like
a spirit sent from the netherworld to distract him. It was doing
one heck of a job, too. His train of thought and his surly mood
evaporated in an instant. He halted his steps, too distracted by
the fragrance to go on. He inhaled deeply, letting the potent
bouquet waft through his system. “Do you smell it?”

“Smell what?” Gideon’s voice held a note of
impatience before it turned to concern. “Lucca, are you okay?”

The scent proved too alluring to ignore, he
had to find the source.
Now
. Lucca’s gaze scanned the strip
mall across the street where a convenient store, Laundromat, and a
sandwich place lined the walkway. Nothing out of the ordinary, but
his senses were drawn there. He stepped off the curb. Cars
screeched to a halt and horns blared, but his steps didn’t falter.
He didn’t care when a bumper brushed the side of his leg, inches
from taking him down. The driver rolled down his window yelling
obscenities at him, but Lucca ignored him.

“What the hell are you doing?” He heard
Gideon call to him, but he didn’t offer an explanation for his
abrupt change of course. He headed across the street, his steps
quickening as the aroma grew stronger.