Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Opportunities are like lightning: they rarely strike twice. Don’t fumble.
ALISTAIR
Celine’s jaw is rigid. The feathers of her wings have morphed into knives, and she’s covered in ancient-looking markings. They’re beautiful. She’s beautiful. A warrior ready to rain justice on her enemies.
Most of the human lore surrounding angels is wrong, but looking at Celine now, I have the urge to hit my knees and worship her.
Someone has crossed her. I don’t know the details, but that much is clear. If she points me in their direction, I’ll make damn sure they regret it for eternity.
“Angels aren’t all the same,” she says, pacing again.
“We’re born into one of seven different echelons—think of them as tiers.
Once we mature, we’re further sorted by skills and assigned roles that benefit society.
The kid Ciprian found outside the bar, for example, is a guardian, the muscle of the celestial realm.
He falls in the middle of the social order. I-I belong to the nish thatsha.”
That name means nothing to me, but from the way Celine stops pacing to brace herself, this characterization is important. “Your echelon,” I say carefully. “Does it have something to do with these orphans?”
“It’s the smallest population,” she admits. “But . . . Thatsha is the top tier. They rule the others, facilitating the balance continuum.” She waves her hand, emphasizing they as if she doesn’t want to be part of the structure she’s explaining.
“I faked my own death and left because . . . I needed to get out.” Celine points at one of the symbols glowing on her arm. “This rune is my calling card. Those dots on the map are a message to me. Someone knows I’m alive.”
“How can you be sure?” I ask, my eyes flitting to Luca’s trembling hands.
Celine sucks in a deep breath. “Because it means truth. It’s my radiant magical gift.”
I nod, considering all the information she’s shared. Her theory is plausible, but I don’t understand why she’s so sure. I need more. I want to rule out all possible explanations before we reach a conclusion.
“Is it rare?” I ask. “They could be referencing someone else.”
“It’s not rare . . .” Celine raises her eyes to meet mine. “It’s unique. I’m the only angel in existence with this gift.” I let the information settle in, amazed by what I’m hearing.
Luca shoves to his feet, his clenched fists shaking. “And how many people know this? Is there a registry? Who the fuck would set up this creepy puzzle and use children with no memories as their messengers?”
Celine’s wings curl around her body protectively, the overhead light from the living room fixture glinting off the metallic edges.
“My father,” she says, her voice colder than I’ve ever heard it.
“I should have put it together sooner, but I didn’t want to think .
. .” She hangs her head, then snaps it back up.
“Bottom line: This rune is a mark—for my death. I got away from him once; he’s telling me he won’t let it happen again. ”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Luca demands. “Just like that, he wants to kill his own daughter? Will he send assassins? What exactly are we up against, Celine?”
“It’s not ‘just like that,’” she says. “He’s been trying to kill me for most of my life in one way or another.
I’m telling you both because you deserve the truth, but there is no we.
I’ll handle this myself. You will both distance yourselves from me.
We can stage a public falling-out or something dramatic, in case he’s sent spies—”
“Slow down, angel,” I beg.
“Um, more like stop right fucking now,” Luca hisses. “I’m not staging a public falling-out or any other stupid shit like that. If someone shows up to kill you, I’ll tear them to pieces. They’ll beg me to turn them to rock before I’m done.”
“I won’t let you take that kind of risk,” Celine says.
“You don’t let me do anything.” Luca grabs her shoulders. “I make my own choices. I always have, and I always will. And if you think I won’t choose you every time, you’ve lost your godsdamn mind. I. Choose. You.”
“Luca—”
“No, listen to me, Celine. Please. I will turn every single person in Nevada, human or supernatural, to stone before I let you go. We’ll spend the rest of our lives building whatever we want from the dust of your enemies.
You can slice me to ribbons with your wings, set me on fire a dozen times—whatever the fuck you want—but you don’t get to push me away. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you,” Celine whispers.
I watch, amazed, as her wings soften to down. My heart swells, envy pulsing with every beat. Their bond—I want that. Viscerally. Not to take, but to share. Will I ever have it?
“Angel, if you don’t kiss him now, I will,” I say, my voice raspy.
And she does. Celine rises on her tiptoes, both hands digging into Luca’s hair. She pulls his head down, and their lips meet as if they’ve kissed a million times before. It’s not frantic or angry, although both of them are clearly dancing on the edge of their emotional limits.
My eyelids flutter as Luca moans deep in his throat. The sound is intimate, hot, and involuntarily relieved. It’s the kind of sound someone makes when chronic pain finally lets go—only for a second—and their body doesn’t know whether to cry or scream.
“You’re a fool,” Celine whispers angrily. Despite her words, her grip on his hair is tight, as if she’s worried he will do exactly as she demanded and leave her behind.
“Shut up and kiss me,” Luca says.
Celine pulls back an inch. “But this is risky. Our friendship—”
“Will be fine.” He kisses her, harder this time. “A few kisses and orgasms won’t break us, Celine. I won’t give you up.”
“This possessiveness . . .”
“You fucking love it,” Luca grunts, dipping his hands to the backs of her thighs and walking her backward toward the couch. They tumble next to me, Celine’s fiery hair slapping my thigh.
“Alistair . . .” she whispers, sounding unsure.
I avoid eye contact in case Luca decides to get a head start on turning the supernatural population in Las Vegas into a mausoleum paved in poker chips or something. “I can give you privacy tonight,” I say. “But I have no intention of stepping to the side. If you want me, of course.”
I leave the question open-ended. Luca and Celine were slow to admit their feelings, but I’ve always known I can’t have one without the other. If they reject me now . . . Dread, raw and primal, tears through me as I wait for their answer.
I want them, want what they have even more, but nothing is worse than being permitted to stay somewhere while knowing you’re not wanted. I won’t force my presence on anyone.
“I want you, Alistair,” Celine says, her words decisive, as if she’s tying a bow. There’s satisfaction and weight behind each one, and when I look at her, I see the truth rune littered across every inch of her beautiful skin.
“Thank the gods.” I run my thumb across her bottom lip. It’s swollen from Luca’s kisses. The realization sends my blood rushing south. She’s so alive.
From his spot on top of Celine, I feel Luca’s eyes rake over me. Tension builds between us. My attraction to Celine was immediate. Luca snuck up on me. I meet his eyes, and the heat between us goes from a simmer to a boil.
His fingers wind into my hair, tugging my head forcefully.
When his lips meet mine, I can taste his confusion, and I smile into the kiss.
Luca prides himself on self-control, but he’s still a shifter.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss me, so he’s giving it a try—and he’s giving it all he’s got, too competitive to settle for a boring kiss.
I nip at his lip, using my vampire speed to move until Celine is sandwiched between us, straddling his lap.
Connecting our lips again, I grin as Luca gasps into my mouth.
Celine kisses along his neck, and we feast on him together until his breathing grows loud and ragged in the quiet of her living room.
“Your fangs,” he groans.
“Your lip ring,” I toss back, running the tip of one fang over the black metal hoop. He shudders. I give him a softer kiss and pull back. “Well? What’s the verdict? You don’t have to spare my feelings; I’m a big boy.”
“I’m hard as a rock,” Luca says with a shrug. His voice is matter-of-fact, as if he’s telling me the odds of sunshine in the desert. I chuckle. The urge to make them both mine is overriding every other thought and instinct.
“I cannot take all the credit for that,” I remind him. “Not while you have the most flawless creature in all the realms straddling your cock.” I smile as Celine giggles into his neck, then deliberately grinds on his lap.
“True, but I don’t think I’d mind you doing the same.”
“Good to know,” I murmur, imagining it vividly as I run my fingers along the tip of one of Celine’s wings. She trembles beneath my touch. Gods, if they turn me down now . . .
“Do you want me to stay or give you a night to yourselves?” I ask, desperate to play this right.
This moment between Luca and Celine has been building for a long time. I want them both, but they need time alone together, as I will want my own private moments.
“I’ve never had two men at once,” Celine says, shuddering.
“Neither have I,” I say drily. “But you can have us both another night if you’d prefer it. I won’t rush you, angel.” I glance at Luca to make sure he understands I’m including him in that statement too.
His hazel eyes morph, the pupils shifting to horizontal, reptilian slits as he sizes me up. “Are you trying to talk yourself out of a good time, Alistair, or are you scared you won’t measure up?” There’s enough bravado in his taunt that I don’t take offense.
Kissing up Celine’s neck, I taste her lips for the first time since the storeroom, sinking into her mouth like I belong there before pulling back. “If you’re sure, take us to your bed, angel.”