Chapter Eighteen
Aradia glowered at Gideon across the length of the waterfall barrier in the WatchTower. Which was par for the course with those two. “Trust but verify is an oxymoron. Needing to verify implies a lack of trust.”
“Fine with me.” He continued stashing various weapons under and over his fighting leathers. “Because I don’t trust you. And this isn’t the kind of thing where you get a do-over.”
Starting a mission with the team divided never led to good results. He sheathed a sword across his back and approached the witch. “We trust that you’re on our team, Aradia. You want Good to win. You’ll make the best shield you can to hold the Titans in their prison if things go sideways up here. That’s not in contention.”
“Then why are you dragging me to the other side of the world?”
Zavier looked at Liss and shrugged. He, yes, trusted that she would correctly interpret the shrug as who complains about a free trip to New Zealand and please make her stop .
Thankfully, she slid off her stool by the lab counter and joined in. “Aradia, you’re the leader of your coven. The most powerful coven east of the Mississippi. But witch power and demonic power might be on two different levels. We don’t know.”
“I can handle myself.” Equal parts of stubborn and insult darkened her tone.
Liss stroked a light hand down her arm. “And if we didn’t believe that, we wouldn’t be bringing you to New Zealand. It’s a test, sure, but a test we know you’ll pass.”
“I’m going to fly you. Girl power.” Evangeline jerked her hips side to side and shot an arm into the air. Zavier wasn’t sure why. The woman could do a lot of things. Dancing wasn’t one of them. Guess it wasn’t a highly prized skill in Hell.
At least Aradia had stopped arguing. He’d thank Liss later for calming her. In private.
Zavier had plenty of ideas on how to thank her. Ideas of how to pleasure her constantly popped into his head. Being with her was an addiction now.
Maisy handed over a backpack to Aradia. “Emergency supplies.”
Her green eyes widened. Ah. Now her nonstop pushback made sense. The powerful witch was scared . Just like Liss had been scared of the waterfall portals the first few times. Aradia grabbed the large quartz pendant hanging over the edge of her black tee. “What sort of emergency?”
“Well, you never really know when it comes to the paranormal, do you?” Maisy’s natural cheerfulness made Zavier snicker. “Furfur’s a fallen angel, so technically, he’s more powerful than the Nephilim . Anything could happen once we summon him. So there’s a water bottle, straw for purifying water, energy bars, a flashlight, a foil emergency blanket, lots of different healing and repelling potions, gauze pads, extra salt,” Maisy stopped ticking items off on her fingers and finished with a beaming smile, “and the cranberry chocolate cookies I made for Hariel. He can’t eat the entire batch, and I thought you might need a sugar boost in case things get, um, intense.”
Zavier couldn’t believe it. She’d warned him away from those cookies twice last night. “I’m the one who has to keep my sword at the demon’s throat. And potentially keep it from killing all of you if things go sideways. Why don’t I get any damn cookies?”
“Because all of that is just another workday for you. Nothing special. Hariel left the Order for the first time ever today to help us. That earns him cookies. You being your normal feral warrior self does not .”
Liss sauntered over to whisper in his ear. “How about, when we’re done, I make you a hot fudge sundae? Using my body as the serving dish?”
Talk about motivation. “Who needs cookies?”
Rhys appeared in the doorway with Hariel. “Enough chitchat. We’re all keyed up. This is a big one. We’ve gone over the plan a dozen times. We’ve gone over what to do if the plan fails in two dozen ways. We’re ready.” He gestured to Hariel. “If you are.”
At the Stronghold, Hariel never bothered to disappear his wings. But in this not-built-for-full-angels-sized house, he appeared as simply a man in old-fashioned clothes.
A man at least half a foot taller than Zavier. So impossibly handsome that you couldn’t look at him for too long without a quickening of the pulse.
And that was with all of his angelic allure severely dampened. “If you’re asking if I want to back out of our agreement? That would be an insult.” Picture frames clattered against the wall at the vibrations from the sonorous depth of his voice. “You wouldn’t insult a full angel, would you, Rhys Boyce?”
“Nope. Never. Absolutely not.” He pointed down the length of the room to the couch by the fireplace. “Settle yourself there.”
Evangeline futzed with the layout on the coffee table for the sixth time. She and Maisy and Liss had spent an hour choosing the items. Suggestions from the men were not welcome. Because men apparently didn’t understand, well, anything. “We set up a tray with snacks and drinks and books.”
“Thank you.”
Gideon handed over the remote with a frown. “I don’t like leaving you alone after taking your wing blood. Have you seen it done? Do you know how weak you’ll be?”
“I am safe here in the WatchTower. Safer even than back at the Order, as there are no traitors here.” Hariel popped out the recliner and extended his single wing. Evangeline draped a blanket over him. Liss plopped Lika onto his lap. “Whatever the cost, it will be worth it.”
They’d gone back and forth about leaving someone with him. For comfort as much for care. Gideon had taken a spell to temporarily mask his powers to fight Pestilence and it had unnerved him, to say the least. As only a half -angel. He was the one most concerned about abandoning the Librarian.
Zavier knelt in front of the couch. Pulled on gloves. After seeing what his blood had done to Liss, he wouldn’t risk getting a drop of fully angelic blood on himself. While he draped beneath the wing and set up bandages, Maisy pushed her cookies on Hariel. Zavier tuned out their chatter.
This felt a little like desecration: taking someone else’s power for his own use. Even with Hariel’s willingness.
It brought back memories of his time in the dungeon. Shackled. With creatures allowed to crawl over him. Bite him. Take from him.
Liss laid a hand on his shoulder. Squeezed. Like she knew he was having a freaking moment. And yeah, her touch grounded him enough to pick up the scalpel. “You ready?”
“Of course not. But proceed.”
Gideon and Rhys moved into place. Hariel had lost his other wing in battle. They weren’t sure if, despite his assurance it was his wish to help, he’d instinctually fight back when Zavier made the cut. A pain-ravaged full angel going berserk wouldn’t be easy to contain.
So the woman left the room, according to plan. The men each took an arm and held them bent, with all their might.
Zavier sucked in a breath. He’d cut and sewn the guys so many times. Other Nephilim , too. This was different. A…castration of sorts. In his head, he damned the rogue angels and demons whose actions drove them to these lengths.
He sliced along a barb arcing out from a feather’s central shaft. The first surprise was that angel blood wasn’t silver, like his. Hariel’s was pure white. So brightly white that it made Zavier squint. His left hand shoved the specimen bottle against the wound. That’s when the second surprise hit.
It could be a gas, or a pheromone, or something that didn’t have a name except in the language of angels. Whatever wafted up from the welling blood was invisible, but it packed a wallop.
It smelled like flowers. And sunshine. And…if “good” had a scent. Zavier knew he’d never be able to describe it. As he inhaled again, something in his brain relaxed. Clicked. Turned over.
His bitterness about being kidnapped and tortured just…healed over. He still knew, objectively, that it had been ten kinds of wrong and he’d kick Aamon’s ass if the opportunity ever presented. Like a lawyer knew when a criminal deserved justice.
But it didn’t feel like a pulsing, acidic hole in his heart anymore. It was just a fact. No different than the fact that rum tasted good and grass was soft underfoot.
He must’ve gasped. Twitched. Something. “What’s wrong?” Rhys asked sharply. A clatter of heels told him that the women surged back into the room at the concern in Rhys’s tone.
“Nothing. I don’t think, anyway.” His body felt lighter, though. Looser. Taller.
“You’re fine, Zavier,” Hariel confirmed. His voice was tight, giving away the level of pain it had caused him.
Clearly, Hariel was wise to what had just gone down. Zavier was grateful—grateful beyond telling—but taken aback. Hurriedly, he surged heat into the wound to cauterize it, and then capped the bottle. “Why didn’t you warn me?”
“Empires have risen and fallen since I’ve been in the company of full angels. Not every nuance is remembered. And it doesn’t have this effect on everyone. Only on those who are most wounded.”
“What’s going on over there?” Evangeline hovered at least a foot in the air, trying to see.
Zavier finished taping the gauze. He honestly wasn’t sure how to answer.
Arms now free, Hariel gestured widely. “Zavier Carranza is fine. He has always been thus, for he has a core of strength that is beyond compare. But he is… more fine after inhaling the essence of angel blood.”
“That’s a thing?” Maisy sounded incredulous.
Exactly how Zavier felt.
Liss hurried over to him. She lightly touched his forehead, then his cheek and his chest. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” That truth came from deep inside him. “It took fifty years, but yes.” He grabbed her waist and spun her around until she squealed. “Yes!”
Rhys flew over the couch to confront Hariel. He stood with his back to the fire, arms crossed and his battle face fully on. “We don’t have time for this. No more angelic need-to-know-basis shit. Is Zavier compromised right now?”
“No. He is healed .”
Once he put Liss down, Zavier moved along to hug Maisy tightly, and then Evangeline. These women had accepted him, loved him, even at his surliest. They’d always seen through his scar tissue to his true self. These hugs were just a starting point at paying them back.
Gideon shoved a hand through his golden hair. Hair that seemed brighter than it had five minutes ago. “Okay, but is he high? Did he huff angel essence and he’s not in his right mind? He’s not acting like himself.”
Zavier rolled his eyes. Before meeting Evangeline, Gideon hugged everything with breasts with no more reason than it was a Tuesday. He still hugged a ton of women—he just kept his hands above the waist now.
“He can go on the mission as planned. I promise. It is not a complication, but an easing. Do not worry…” Hariel’s voice trailed off.
“Shit,” Rhys blurted. “He’s unconscious.”
“We suspected that might happen.” Zavier felt for a pulse. “He’s breathing steadily. His pulse is slower, weaker, but there. Put another blanket on him.”
Evangeline draped it over the angel. “Are you sure I shouldn’t stay with him?”
“All hands on deck, remember? Any one of our powers might be the thing needed to contain the demon.”
“ If my spell doesn’t work. Which it will. So she could stay and play nursemaid,” Aradia said snidely.
“No more discussion. Let’s go and do this thing. If we’re lucky, we’ll be back before Hariel surfaces.” Rhys motioned them toward the waterfall barrier.
“Since when do you believe in luck?” Zavier asked as he lifted Liss into his arms.
“Absofuckinglutely never,” he replied with a fast grin as he took off.