Atroyel, p.23

Atroyel, page 23

 

Atroyel
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  “When Cass comes, follow my lead,” I say hurriedly.

  “What the hell—”

  “Oh, and Tristan, remember that trick you taught me to shield my emotions? Use it,” I say. The trick he taught me to handle an onslaught of emotion was to think about sex. It works like a charm when I think about Lea with the bonus that it blocks her ability to read me.

  “Think about sex?”

  “Yeah, and what we’ll do with Lea tonight. Trust me—she’ll need both of us after the impending meltdown.”

  When she walks onto the deck, all cute and thoughtful, something new possesses me, and all hint of my usual reserve disappears. I spread my arms in welcome, adoring the startled surprise that flashes in her eyes and the glorious grin that lights her face. She drops onto my lap and kisses me soundly. When we break apart, she straightens and gives me that cute wink of hers that scrunches her face before turning to Tristan.

  “I’d kiss you, too, if I wasn’t so pissed off at you, mister. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

  48

  TRISTAN

  When Ali steps onto the deck and rushes into Troy’s arms without a drop of acknowledgment of me, a wave of anxiety hits me. Just when everything had been perfect, I’d gone and fucked it up. Our connection tells me she’s aware of my presence, but I’m going to have to wait until she’s good and ready to address me. Despite my angst, I mentally remove her floral top, jean shorts, and the broadest brimmed hat I’ve ever seen, remembering her unveiled passion as she writhed beneath me. Shifting to hide my instant hard-on, I train my gaze on the distant palm trees. It’s all about your timing, Tris.

  Lost in thought, I almost miss the significance of her words. I’d kiss you, too, if I wasn’t so pissed off at you, mister. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do. She looks my way, but her glasses automatically darken in sunlight, so I can’t read the expression in her eyes. I open our psychic connection, but all I get is the sense of rapidly turning pages as she processes.

  Follow your gut instinct. Troy’s thought plants distinctly into my mind. Well, my gut tells me I have to touch this woman and know that underneath it all, we’re still okay.

  “I’d be happy to discuss it with you after we’ve kissed.” What the hell am I going to do with this woman who, in many ways, is my opposite? Finding her is like a poor man winning a lottery or a rich man discovering humility, but what do I do with this beautiful alien force that’s now part of my life? I need to kiss her, touch her, confirm she’s truly mine. Then we can deal with the differences between her strong emotional consciousness and my practical view of life that overshadows idealism.

  I need to know that our differences bring balance to our relationship in much the same manner that her similarities to Troy bring balance to theirs. And my gut tells me she needs this reassurance, too. I give her my best imploring look and wait for her consent. Not a chance I’m making that mistake twice.

  After a long, penetrating look, Troy says, “Oh, for gods’ sake, you two, kiss and get it over with. We don’t have all day.”

  “Fine.” Ali holds up her index finger. “One kiss.”

  She’s perched on the edge of the couch Troy’s sprawled on, so it’s easy to pull her up into my arms. She stiffens slightly. Ignoring her surprised rush of adrenaline, I tip her chin up with my finger and slowly lower my mouth to her lips, giving her plenty of time to stop me. I need to know that she needs this kiss as much as I do.

  Instead, her lips part slightly, and the tip of her pink tongue swipes her lips. She doesn’t touch me otherwise but returns my kiss with a hesitant mixture of gentle love and demanding lust that holds the promise of what’s to come . . . after we work through our first fight.

  Her body softens as she responds, and after a long moment, her arms slide up my bare arms, lightly tickling the hair on my forearms. She places those small elegant hands on my chest, lowers her head, and takes a long breath before sitting down, this time opposite me. Troy emotes so little, he could be asleep behind those sunglasses, but I’m keenly aware he’s taking this all in.

  Ali tops up her tea, keeping her gaze on the honey and lemon as she starts. “Tristan, I know I tend to go off on people when I feel I’ve been wronged, but I’ve had time to think about this.” She throws a glance in Troy’s direction, but he says nothing, only nods. I realize her discomfort is due to the diplomatic approach she’d take with a stranger. Troy had warned us exercising tact doesn’t come easy for Ali. She’s too much of a straight shooter. After straightening her spine and stretching her neck, she looks in my direction.

  “Now is as good a time as any to talk about our limits. Spanking me as punishment is a hard limit for me. Doing anything to my body without my consent is a hard limit. I have the right to decide how you touch my body.” Ali narrows her eyes, underscoring her edict.

  “That wasn’t a spanking, it was a love tap,” I reply rather hotly. “Are you telling me I have to ask your permission each and every time I want to touch you?”

  We’re mates now, and that means lots of touching without consent. Her refusal to see reason pisses me right off. “If I follow your logic, I’ll have to ask you for every fucking kiss, every fucking hug. Well, I—”

  “We’d better call Cass in. The justices said he’s a vital part of the team, and if we’re setting limits, he needs to be part of the discussion,” Troy says.

  I throw Troy a look as he stops me dead in my tracks.

  Remember our end game, Tristan.

  Aleah grimaces, sucking in her full lips, and sighs, but nods. “I guess that makes sense.” She sounds less than enthused at adding Cass to the equation, but that and Troy’s reminder is enough to bring me back to my senses.

  “Good idea. Maybe Cass can help you see some reason.” I throw Ali a hot look and stalk across the large deck. Poking my head through the sliding doors, I bellow, “Cassiel, we need your ass up here now.”

  Despite Cass’s calm and ruthless countenance, his seething emotions take the wind right out of my anger.

  Steady. End game. Troy still knows how to calm my temper. He had ever since that time as boys when I’d backed him up against a wall, taunting him over some slight I can’t remember.

  “Go ahead. Hit me,” he’d said, refusing to take the bait. Troy’s calm intense gaze had drilled through my anger, and one message was clear: he wouldn’t hit me first, but if I hit him, he’d flatten me. No question. I relax and open myself to Troy’s certainty. Now, we poke the bears.

  “It’s about time. I assume this means you’re ready to get some work done,” Cass says.

  “Good morning to you, too,” Troy says. “Aleah was just about to tell us her hard limits. Go ahead, beauty.” Troy throws an encouraging smile Ali’s way. The dark look she pitches back tells him she sees through his innocent act but knows it’s pointless to argue.

  “Good morning, Cass. Did you want some coffee?” Aleah says.

  I study Ali from behind my shades, interested in this hostess act. Troy had warned us Ali could be direct to the point of rudeness. Now, doubt dances with the confidence she’d had moments ago.

  “No, I don’t want any coffee. I’ve been up since dawn.” Cass’s stress on the last word lets us know he thinks we’ve wasted half the day. “Let’s get on with it. Who called this little meeting of the minds?”

  “I did,” Troy says. “Ali wants to discuss her hard limits, so you need to be part of the conversation.”

  We all look at Ali, who’s finding her teacup fascinating as she wrestles with a strong flight response. Every part of her screams to escape from Cass’s intimidating presence as he towers over her, but she squares her shoulders, facing down her Goliath. I want to hold her and promise her everything will be all right, but Troy’s insistent voice in my head holds me firmly back. Let it play out.

  “So, what is it? Spit it out. We don’t have all day.” Cass is more of a bastard than usual. Something is most definitely up with him.

  Ali clears her throat. “We were discussing consent as it pertains to touching my body.”

  “Touching you how? Is there something specific on your mind?” Cass plays at being reasonable.

  After another slight hesitation, Ali says, “Tristan spanked me without asking me. I was letting him know that’s a hard limit, and he was arguing with me.”

  “It was a love tap,” I grumble.

  Cass sweeps his hand through the air as if dismissing her complaint. “That’s between you and your new mate. Why bother me with this? If Tristan decided you needed a spanking, you deserved it. We are sex angel lords, and if we deem it appropriate to punish our supplicants for the greater good, we administer such punishment. That’s part of our job, our duty, and the way it’s always been.” Cass doesn’t raise his voice, but the military bite in his voice comes through loud and clear as he utters this bald-faced lie. He’s also not happy about my bond with Ali.

  Ali is having none of his bitchy attitudes. Planting her hands on her hips, she faces him down. “I’m not one of your frigging supplicants, and Troy seems to think you need to be part of this discussion since it pertains to my limits. When it comes to my body, I have the right to say no. And spanking is a hard limit for me.”

  “Your rapid pulse tells me that’s an outright lie, and it’s that kind of attitude that has us in this sorry mess,” Cass says smugly.

  “If my heart rate increased, it’s because I’m pissed. What sorry mess are you referring to? Because if you’re suggesting my love for your brothers is a problem, then you’d better go back to school. I would think, of all people, a sex angel would live by that commandment,” Ali says.

  “Love is what got us into this. That and this fucking hold you have on my brothers.” Warmth and romance aren’t Cass’s strengths, and that part of his personality is front and center. If a relationship isn’t strategically valuable, Cass isn’t interested, and I’ve never known him to care about our relationships unless he perceives some threat to the family. But something about Ali’s lit his fuse.

  Ali’s quiet for a hot beat before she spits out, “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, you might be able to hide it from Troy and now Tristan, but it’s clear you’ve used your Nephilim powers to put some sort of hold on them both. This mating brand wouldn’t have happened otherwise,” Cass retorts.

  “What makes you so sure?” Despite the emotional distress flowing through me from Ali, she keeps her voice measured and controlled.

  “Why else would Troy be compelled to give up everything he had to follow you to Earth from the forest? And if that wasn’t bad enough, he suffered agony protecting you. His human vessel ate itself from the inside out, for gods’ sake.”

  Ali winces but says nothing.

  “But was that enough? No. Even in death, you wouldn’t let go, using your Nephilim powers to cast some sort of spell on him. I see through this act of yours.” Cass is in big brother protection mode.

  He’s being uncharacteristically irrational, and watching this rarely seen side of him might have been entertaining if I weren’t dealing with Ali’s resulting emotional fallout. She glances at me as if she feels my distress. Troy’s voice drills into my head. Shield! With great difficulty, I push past the stream of emotions and picture Ali naked and spread wide open, head thrown back in rapture. It must do the trick because she turns back to Cass.

  “So let me see if I’ve got this right. Your supposition is that I’ve known all along that I’m Nephilim, and I’m working on some nefarious plot for reasons unknown.” Ali’s voice catches, halting her speech. She calls on the strength of her will to capture and hold back the tears rising as anger bolts to the surface.

  “That’s not fair. You can’t hold me responsible for something I have no control over. In fact, if anyone has a nefarious plot, it must be you boys.” Ali points to her shoulder. “After all, you did say this is an angelic mating brand, and you’re the angels in the bunch.”

  “Oh, you’re a clever one, but you can’t fool me,” Cass says. “I’m onto you.”

  If I weren’t sitting down, the wave of nausea that hits me would have knocked me on my ass. Troy swivels to a sitting position, arms on thighs, head bowed. I try to stand. I’ve got to stop this. Troy gives a quick shake of his head but doesn’t look at me. Hang on. She’s strong. She’ll be okay. I take several deep breaths and sit. If Troy can withstand Ali’s onslaught of emotion, I most certainly can. I trust Troy. He knows Ali, and he’s got one of the best strategic minds when he decides to use it.

  Ali rubs her forehead and sucks in a lungful of air, the only outward signs of her distress. “Look, can we call a truce, take a time-out, and circle back later?” She holds a small, tawny hand for Cass to shake. He looks at it as if it’s covered with weeping sores.

  “No, we do this now. This is not a democracy,” Cass says. “It’s time you three start listening to me. We are in danger of losing our lives, and your impulsiveness puts us in danger. As does your unwillingness to accept the truth about yourself. You like the idea of a spanking but if you prefer to live a lie, far be it from me to go against your will. After all, Aleah gets what Aleah wants. Any other hard limits you want to discuss?” Cass gives Ali his best “you can talk, but my mind’s made up” look.

  Several things happen simultaneously. Ali’s vibrant skin tone turns gray, a series of cramps grip her GI system, and she claps her hand over her mouth. The pain she’s in almost cripples me, but she’s fleeing toward the inside of the villa.

  Troy plants the image of Ali’s beautiful body sandwiched between us, allowing me a modicum of relief from the onslaught of Ali’s suffering.

  “Now, you’ve done it.” Troy’s voice is laced with disapproval as he stands and turns to face Cass. “What are you going to do to fix this?”

  Cass’s barely restrained fury and indignation flash through me as he steps into Troy’s personal space. “Oh, no, you don’t, Troy. You’re not dumping this on me.”

  Troy ejects his wings. “Afraid so, Cassiel. I don’t know what bug crawled up your ass, but one thing I do know—you’re the one who gave Aleah a sick migraine with your accusations, and you’re the one who’s going to make this better.”

  “Just how am I supposed to do that? You two are the ones with the healing powers,” Cass retorts.

  “There’s healing power woven in the Double Diary, so I suggest you read it to her. The rest I’ll leave to you to sort out.” Troy massages his temple. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Ali’s pain is causing a serious drain on my reserves, so I’ve got to put some distance between Aleah and me to regenerate. Finish what you started, Cass. Come along, Tristan.”

  If the situation weren’t so serious, I might have laughed at the look on Cass’s face. Usually, Troy shuns any leadership role, but when he does step up, people listen. I unfurl my wings and follow Troy as he flies toward the islands dotting the distant landscape. Despite my physical distress, the new place in my heart swells with anticipation and longing. I’d found my destined mate, and I can’t wait to see what the universe and Ali’s love have in store for us . . . Assuming Cass doesn’t fuck things up.

  Will Cass throw a wedge into Tristan and Aleah’s fledgling bond? Can the mating bond survive without him? Grab your copy of Cassiel for a lot more sizzling fun and adventure with Aleah and her princes. Feed your fantasies!

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  NEXT UP FOR ALEAH AND HER ANGELS…

  Chapter One

  Cassiel

  Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Aleah’s rapid heart rate warns me she has her head in a toilet long before I reach her. The power to read the heartbeats of others comes in handy at times. If I didn’t love my brothers, I’d kill them for putting our team in this position.

  We’re the three royal princes of Nirvana, called to serve the gods as sex angel lords. It’s not a job, it’s a vocation, although you’d never know it the way my brothers are behaving. Both are more than capable of shielding themselves from the negative effects of physical illness. My gut tells me Troy’s not as affected by Aleah’s sickness as he pretends to be unless you count being love sick. Whatever the two of them hope will happen by leaving me alone with Aleah simply won’t happen. I know a problem when I see one.

  I detour through the kitchen where Tristan put Aleah’s medications. Fuck. Whose bright idea was it to put me in a caregiver role? Which pills should I give her? I take a chance and grab the anti-nausea tablets, pain meds, and a glass of water. By the time I reach the bedroom, Aleah’s curled into a ball on the bed, eyes squeezed tight, and her small form takes me back to when she was a young girl in the forest. The corresponding tug on my heartstrings proves I’m not the cold-hearted bastard my brothers accuse me of being or that I portray.

  “I brought your pills.” I read off the names on the bottles for good measure.

  I barely catch her muffled response. “One of each, please.”

  I shake a pill from each bottle into my palm then place them in the small brown hand that lies open on the bed. She dry swallows the pills refusing the water I offer. A strangled sound follows that I take to be thanks. I close the built-in blinds and light a candle to read by. Again, I curse the gods for being less than forthcoming about the angelic mating bond.

  I settle on the bed beside Aleah without touching her, open the Double Diary to the bookmarked page and start reading aloud. I’m expecting the magic woven into the words to affect Aleah. What I’m not anticipating is their impact on me. The more I read in their diary, the more insight I have about what drew Atroyel to Aleah. The sexual and emotional passion they have for each other survived life’s many hurdles and grew to a blazing fire. Their unconditional love for each other is evident even to a realist like me. Their outpouring of feeling flows over me like fine wine opening my palate to take in hidden undertones. It appears that Aleah took years to break through Atroyel’s moody exterior, yet I have no sense of her berating or criticizing him. She seems to accept him for what he is.

 

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