Atroyel, page 2
Now that I’m near her, I feel the shock, the numbness she uses to wall off the pain. The depth of her sorrow, her loneliness, almost knocks me back to Bardo. I hadn’t realized it until it was too late—I had been her rock, her anchor. It’s the only selfless thing I’ve ever done, protecting her. I hadn’t known why, but I’d been driven to her.
I curse as my hand goes right through her when I brush her cheek. Her shiver lets me know she felt me. I want to scream in frustration that I can’t touch her, can’t soothe her, can’t make it all better. But there’s no time to linger on romantic thoughts. When Syrael sent us to find Aleah, he thought we’d be obedient. We weren’t. For reasons I won’t get into now. But that bastard knows Aleah is on Earth now, and it’s only a matter of time until he finds her. If he hasn’t already. Since he’s been cast out as an archangel and made a sex demon lord, he’s more dangerous than ever. The Oracle had warned us that he thrives on torturing his victims, prolonging his evil pleasure until the victim’s body gave out. She’d warned us that if Syrael meets her, he’ll use his dark magic to trick her into becoming his slave before he kills her. My brothers and I simply will not allow that to happen.
The stillness in Aleah’s body and her clasped hands don’t fool me. It’s as if I have a telepathic link with her now that I no longer occupy my human vessel. Her mind and soul are a cauldron of swirling emotions, but a spark of interest breaks through. That’s all I need to see. I give my brothers a penetrating look. Get on with it.
“He said to tell you he made a deal with the devil,” Cass says.
Aleah gives him her side-eye look. “He wouldn’t say that.” She forces additional challenge into her voice, letting Cass know she’s not one of those bimbos who melt at the first sign of attention from a handsome man.
He’s having none of it. He simply stares back at her. “What would he say, then?”
“He wouldn’t say anything because he’s dead.” The sorrow resting under the challenge in her voice almost makes me break. “Or are you telling me he’s sent a message from the great beyond?”
I’d warned the two of them. My Aleah’s intellect marches ahead of her like a beacon. She takes almost nothing at face value. She’s far too analytical for that, and this sparring could go on for hours, knowing her. I clear my throat, knowing only Cass and Tristan can hear me.
“Tell her I’m sitting beside her and need her to shut up and listen.” I instinctively try to drum my fingers. They slide through the tabletop. Fuck! I hate being mist while the gods figure out what to do with my body. Cass repeats my words to her.
“Now that does sound like something he’d say,” she says.
“And what would he say about you letting your life pass you by in a wine-induced haze?” Tristan uses a gentle tone that would make even the most belligerent person compliant.
“He’d say something like don’t be an idiot. Get out there and enjoy yourself,” she says.
“That’s precisely what he said,” Cass says. “You need to listen to us.” Despite his intentions, Cass sounds like a sergeant major giving orders. He can’t help himself; taking control of a situation is as natural as breathing to him. As expected, my beauty gives him one of her intense stares while she tames the curses that are her automatic response to any male trying to control her. Fuck you, mister. I don’t need to listen to you, asshole.
She taps the tabletop in front of Cass with her index finger. “No, you need to listen to me. You two invade my space, my privacy, without a by-your-leave, and ask me to listen to some unbelievable story about my deceased husband. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t have Raul throw your asses out of here.” Now that sounds like my Lea. She’ll demand proof. But her mind will already be spinning because she feels the neural humming that started the moment I drew close to her. It’s just too unsettling for her to dismiss, even with her strange health history. She’s too aware of her body. And judging from her physical reaction when my brothers touched her, she feels a connection with them as well.
“We don’t have time to waste with this nonsense. Tell Aleah I can prove she’s having a real psychic experience if she lets me.” It’s at moments like this that I miss my corporeal body because my drumming fingers would be all the signal needed to remind them of the urgency of our mission.
Cass gives me a penetrating look. My spirit form stares right back at him.
“What are you looking at?” Aleah asks as she follows the direction of his gaze and sees nothing. But she senses something, me. I can tell.
“Troy says he can prove you’re having a genuine psychic experience if you’ll let him.” Tristan gives her one of his Mr. Charming grins. My Lea doesn’t respond; she simply stares back at him.
“And how precisely will he do that?”
“Remember the movie Ghost?” Cass asks.
She nods slowly, turning that around in her head. She wants to believe.
“Just like that. All you have to say is yes.” Tristan gives her another encouraging grin.
“How is that even possible?” My Lea is not an easy sell; I warned them. Tristan looks at me and raises a brow.
“Atroyel, Troy, carries a piece of your soul in his, as you do his in yours. You are bound for eternity.” Tristan always was the romantic of the three of us.
Suddenly, the room’s atmosphere shifts, signaling that the bastard Syrael’s mirror eye is sweeping the area.
Aleah grabs the side of the table as if it’s moved. “Did you feel that?”
“Feel what?” Tristan asks. Cass meets my eyes as we feel the psychic energy of the sex demon lord. We’re out of time.
“Could be an earthquake,” Cass says, then cuts in before Aleah can draw breath, “Do you trust Troy?”
“Yes, with my life,” Aleah says.
That’s all I need, her consent, so I’m not tearing the fabric of time. I slip into Aleah’s body, essentially stealing her motor functions and senses. She still has control of her mind, although it would take a mighty mental thrust to push me out of the spotlight. I give the fingers of her right hand a quick drum, taking a split second to enjoy the relief of physical movement.
“Beauty, listen up. We don’t have much time before you pass out.” At least I remember that much from the condensed training session they’d given me in Bardo.
I ignore her mental squeak of protest that reverberates through my mind. “Yes, it’s me. There is an afterlife, but we don’t have time to get into that here. Nutshell version, I’m an angel, and these are my brothers. You and I have some unfinished business, so the gods allowed me to come back and see you. But for me to stay on in the Earth realm, I need to be near a portal.” This version of the truth will have to suffice until we get Aleah to safety. “Will you come with us so we can explain? My essence is already fading. You can feel it.” This is a bit of a gamble, but I’m pretty sure my spirit is snatching the essence from her body.
I focus inward and catch her mental whisper. “I can’t stand this burning tingling, Troy. I’ll go. Just make it stop.”
Her body collapses onto the banquette as I leave it. Tristan leans forward and takes her carotid pulse before giving a quick nod and gathering Aleah in his arms. Cass tosses a few hundred dollar bills on the table, ignoring the maître d’s frantic yelling as we rush into the waiting limousine.
3
ALEAH
I slip into slumber, and Troy drops into my dream. I sense him first as I had in the old days. He quietly pads up behind me, and only his soft breath on my skin tells me he’s there.
He slides his warm, full lips down the side of my neck, flesh barely touching flesh. Desire skitters over my skin as he uses his strong hands to smooth away the anticipation goose bumps that break out all over my arms. He wraps long fingers around my wrists, fingers that bring me great pleasure . . . if I’m patient. But I already feel the heat building between my legs as beads of arousal collect between my thighs.
“Want to tuck me in?” He keeps his voice neutral, calm, but I hear the need behind the innocent code words for a blow job. Something he rarely asked for. Usually, his entire focus is on satisfying me first, making me come until he’s pulled every last thread of tension from my body. Then and only then would he sink into me and fuck me into oblivion.
But occasionally, he lets me pleasure him first. Lets me suck that magnificent cock.
“I sure do,” I say before I drop to my knees. Such is the stuff of dreams.
I look up, trying to drink in his face, but a glowing light blurs his features. I focus instead on the beautiful hard cock I haven’t seen in over two years and almost weep. Every part of me wants to suck him deep into my throat until he’s buried balls deep in my mouth, something that isn’t humanly possible in our waking life—he’s just that big.
I grasp the base of his pulsing cock with my small hand and welcome the shudder that runs through him. He’s missed me as much as I’ve missed him. When I flick my tongue across the tip of his cock, his sigh brings a trickle of arousal rolling down my naked thigh. Despite my eagerness to devour him, I pull back so I can make this dream last. I take my time, feeling his steel heat as I lick and lap my way up, down, and around his shaft.
I tickle his balls with the fingers on my free hand and coordinate my hand and mouth movements until Troy strains and arches his back. His hands grip the arms of the chair as he fights the urge to thrust hard into my mouth. I still until his harsh breath evens out. I’m not ready for this to end yet. Then and only then do I suck him deep into my mouth, showing him with each slow contraction of my lips just how very much I’ve missed tasting him. I make love to him with my mouth, savoring the scent of his heavy musk, reveling in each clench of his muscles as he joins the battle to make this time together last.
I startle half-awake as his spent cock softens in my mouth. The ambient light from the almost-full moon illuminates the large room where I lie . . . alone. If it weren’t for the tingling in my engorged lips, I’d think it was only a dream. I won’t let the feeling end by waking. I slip back into sleep as the tingling warmth reminds me of just how very much I’ve missed making love with him.
This time when I wake, it’s no fucking dream. I’m lying on the left side, my side, of a huge bed with a warm hand gripping my wrist. I jerk away and try to sit as my old panic instinct ratchets into high gear. My heart tries to jump out of my chest.
A second later, the pain of a migraine nearly blinds me. I fall back on the pillow gasping . . . I’d almost welcome death to stop this horrific head pain.
“Shhh. You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m Tristan, remember? Take this. It will help you feel better.” He clasps a warm hand behind my neck and breathes on me. It feels as if I’m breathing in fairy dust that makes me feel a bit better—I have that kind of imagination. I shake that nonsense out of my head and immediately regret it as another jolt of pain shoots through my head.
“This would be easier if you’d let me kiss you.”
I open one eyelid a slit and glare at his smiling and absolutely gorgeous face.
And there it is. Mention of sex. It seems to always come around to that with men . . . even the drop-dead gorgeous ones. I squeeze my eyes shut and battle to push aside the pain so I can think. Thoughts dance through the pain. Angels. Troy. Wings. Horrible tingling numbness. Danger. Brothers.
Despite the hammering of my poor heart, I don’t feel as if I’m in any imminent danger. But I need to figure out just what the fuck is going on. First, I need to get this pain under control, and then I can figure out where the hell I am.
“May I have my purse please?” I need my meds.
A warm hand grabs my wrist, turns it, and places a pill in my palm. “Is this what you’re looking for?” The warm baritone makes me open one eye a crack. I bring my palm up close since I don’t have my glasses on and I can’t see a frigging thing. It’s one of my pain meds. “Thanks.” I dry swallow the small pill.
“It would work a lot faster if you let me kiss you.” The humor in charming guy’s voice almost makes me smile. Tristan. I remember the electricity that sizzled through me when he touched me.
“How do you figure that?” I dearly wish I could give him the look I’ve perfected, the one Troy calls my side-eye, but all I can do is blink against the light.
“I’m a sex angel. Remember? We told you last night.” He shoots that grin that makes me want to drop my pants again. Speaking of pants, I do a quick inventory. Thank gods I’m still dressed. If they want my body, they’re taking their sweet time about it. Odd thought, given my vulnerable situation. I blame my migraine.
“You did not tell me you’re a sex angel.” I take the offensive while I rack my aching brain for precisely what had been said. “How exactly does that explain you needing to kiss me to heal my pain?” At the moment, that wouldn’t be a bad idea. His lips look an awful lot like Troy’s.
He doesn’t seem the least bit disturbed by my bitchy tone. “I can heal or repair any bodily damage by having sex or using sexual energy. A kiss gives stronger energy than a thought.”
Troy will no doubt be apoplectic if I start dishing it out with his brothers. I look around for my glasses. My shield.
“Looking for these?” Tall, blond, and handsome hands me my glasses. I shove them on my face and look around.
“Where’s Troy?” One thing I sure as hell remember is the feeling of him taking over my body. Assuming all of this isn’t a psychotic break, he’s come back to me. I struggle to sit, and Tristan helps me to a semi-seated position as the pain eases enough for my brain to start functioning again. Flashes of memory sift through my head as I try to get a fix on what’s happening. A beam of light hits my eyes, and I slam them shut again.
“Take it easy. You’ll be okay soon.” Tristan grabs my hand. No sooner are the words out of his mouth than a wash of heat reduces the pain.
“Where am I?” I open my eyes halfway, and Tristan takes my pulse. Either I’m experiencing a real psychic phenomenon, which is highly unlikely, or I’m locked up in a psych ward somewhere, given the delusions I seem to be suffering from. So there’s no point in delaying the inevitable. “What hospital is this?”
“We’re on an island.” That rich tenor voice makes this pronouncement, confirming my worst suspicions. We’re not in Toronto anymore. Dark blue eyes sparkling with humor and lust look down at me. On instinct, I pull the sheet up to my neck despite being fully dressed.
“Troy said you’d freak out if we undressed you.” Tristan rakes his eyes down my covered body as if he’d like nothing better than to see me naked. Nothing is threatening in his tone or demeanor, making my usual bitchy put-down seem a little over the top. While I contemplate the right one-liner, the dark-haired guy from last night walks into the room bearing a tray. The smell of baked goods makes my mouth water, reminding me I haven’t eaten since yesterday at noon.
“You’re awake. Good. Let’s get some food and your pills in you.” Cassiel sets the large tray across my lap, then steps over to the entire wall of windows through which I see nothing but water and trees. I glance around the room. If I’m in a hospital, it certainly isn’t one of our public institutions. It was more like the private hospital where I’d had surgery years ago in the US. There’d been two super cute anesthetists there who’d taken Troy’s place in one or two wet dreams.
I drag my wandering brain back to this reality. Something is definitely very wrong with me, not because my mind skips merrily from rabbit hole to rabbit hole but because it has never done it when my life or body could be in mortal danger. I look around the room as I take stock of whether I’ve lost my mind or stepped through some sort of supernatural portal. I don’t sense any danger, but it’s all too much like a fairy tale. For some reason, this guy going to the trouble of dispensing my morning meds in the same plastic cup I use at home makes me feel all warm and squishy. As if it’s not the first time two gorgeous men and an exquisite ghost have looked after me.
“I’ll ask again, where am I?” I put every ounce of bitch-goddess into my tone that I can muster.
“I told you, we’re on an island,” Tristan repeats.
“You’ll have to be a bit more forthcoming than that.” I let the implicit threat of my silence hang in the air, although truth be told, I’m more intrigued than frightened. And that’s more than I’ve felt in months. More importantly, if there’s a way I can be with Troy again that doesn’t involve eternal damnation, I’m all in. I give both of them my sweetest shark smile. “Start this story from the top.”
4
ATROYEL
“Start this story from the top.” Aleah flashes her piranha smile before paying close attention to uncovering and examining the food on the tray before her, all seeming nonchalance except for the tension simmering below the surface. My wonder woman is back. My brothers won’t know what hit them.
Her synapses are firing like a supercharged high-performance sports car engine. For several glorious moments last night, my favorite fantasy had come true. When I’d taken possession of her body, I’d been able to feel what she feels and see how her mind works. Even that quick glimpse fascinated me, as this woman always has. I have no doubt she always will.
While Aleah pours a cup of steaming hot tea, Tristan and Cass exchange glances. Tristan, the one of us with the devil in him, gives a wicked grin and says, “Once upon a time, a century or so ago, there was—”
Aleah holds up a hand, her impatience barely contained. She may be appreciating every square inch of his body, but she didn’t trust him. It would take more than Tristan’s charm to earn it. “Perhaps we can start with something a little more current. When did Troy give you this message?”
