Chapter Three
Razr had always liked Scotland. The weather was
moody, the landscape could almost be described as arrogant, and the people were
tough as shit. Liking the place was a crazy contradiction for him, because he
both envied the humans who lived here and was thankful
he didn’t have to live here. Nice place to visit, and all that.
Today’s visit, however, wasn’t about seeing the sights,
drinking the whisky, or eating haggis. Just twenty-four hours after Jim Bob
gave him the gold card, Razr was taking back what was his and restoring his
dignity and reputation.
Since he’d lost his ability to flash from place to place
when his wings were bound, he’d taken a Harrowgate, a transportation system
used by demons to travel around the human and demon realms, to the outskirts of
a walled village populated by dhampires. Few knew of
the existence of the half-vampire, half-werewolf beings, and even fewer knew
about their Scottish villages. Humans were especially clueless; their eyes
might see the towns and the people, but their primitive minds wouldn’t register
any of it, and wards placed around the properties would repel humans on a
subconscious level.
His boots left deep prints in the soggy earth and fog
dampened his jeans and formed tiny droplets on his jacket as he walked toward
the village’s walled east entrance. He could smell the recent rain and taste
the ocean salt in the air, but he didn’t let any of that distract him from the
fact that he felt more than one set of eyes keeping track of him. Dhampires were cautious folk, secretive to the point of
paranoia, as vicious as vampires and as unpredictable as werewolves. They’d
gotten the best and worst of both species, and only a fool would let their
guard down around them.
Just inside the village wall he was met by thatch-roofed
houses and a burly female with short-cropped dark hair, razor-sharp fangs, and
a crossbow slung over her shoulder. An unusual ripple of energy surrounded her,
unusual in that while dhampires were certainly a
formidable species, they weren’t generally associated with special gifts. This dhampire, however, looked like she kicked ass with special
abilities on a daily basis, and maybe bragged about
it.
As a battle angel, he could appreciate that.
She propped her fists on her hips and blocked his path. He didn’t
appreciate that. “State yer business, yer species, and yer name,” she
said in a thick Scottish accent. “And make it quick. I don’t have all day.” She
snapped her fingers in a show of impatience.
Man, he wished he still had angel status and more powers
than the few weak defensive skills he’d been left with. He’d have put her on
her ass for disrespecting an angel, no matter how disgraced.
“My business is none of yours.”
She just stared and tapped her foot.
“Maybe I’m a human traveler named George who just wants a
meal.”
“Ye came through the Harrowgate, so ye aren’t human or ye’d
be dead, ye lyin’ ballbag.” She crossed her arms over
her chest and leaned in. “I’ll ask one more time. Who are ye, and––”
“My name is Razr,” he said, tired of this game. He extended
the gold card Jim Bob had given him. “I’m a fallen angel, and I’d appreciate it
if you got out of my face.”
She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “Ye don’t smell like a
fallen angel.”
That was because this lyin’
ballbag wasn’t one. “What do fallen angels smell like?”
“Shit.”
Ah. “Well, I’m newly fallen. Maybe I have
to earn my stench.”
Unamused, she snatched the card away and frowned down at it.
“Why do ye want to see them?”
Did she think he was born yesterday? Or even a century ago?
“I’m sure those who wish to see a secretive group of people don’t tell you why
they’re here.”
“No, they don’t. But what they don’t say is as important as
what they do.”
“And what am I not saying?”
She smiled, her lips peeling back from those wicked-looking
fangs. “That ye’re seeking something. And it’s important. Which means ye need
to be nice to me or ye won’t get it.”
He hated inferior beings on power trips. “Fine,” he sighed.
“You’re a...sturdy female with big muscles and a voice
so deep and breathy that Darth Vader would be jealous. Is that nice enough?”
She barked out a laugh. “Come on, ballbag.”
She led him down a cobblestone street lined with small
houses and quaint shops, and then onto a dirt path through a thick copse of trees. He followed her
until they came to a clearing, in the middle of which a stone tower stood. As
they approached, a big male and a petite female exited.
A wave of power rolled off them, the same as the female
who’d brought him here. And then he knew. These were the Wardens, the Triad,
three dhampires chosen by fate or blood or some
mystical crap to guard the most priceless things in the world. And they were in
possession of his gemstone.
The male, his dark hair swinging around his shoulders, spoke
first. “I’m Galen. You’ve already met Rhona.” He gestured to the petite,
fire-haired female who hung back but who radiated more power than the other two
combined. “That is Isla. State your business.”
“You people aren’t real friendly,
are you?” They stared, and he resisted the urge to taunt them more. As an
angel, he was used to the stick-up-the-ass types, and he knew they often had
short fuses, and he didn’t want to fuck this up. “I’m here because I believe
you’re in possession of something that belongs to me.” He held out his hand so
they could see his ring. The ice-blue diamond glittered in the hazy sunlight
that managed to punch through the gray sheet of clouds above. “It’s this
stone’s larger mate.”
Isla started to reach for it but pulled back at the last
second. “May I?”
“You can touch the ring, but I can’t remove it.” No, the
only way this particular piece of jewelry could come
off his finger was if he was dead or his finger was severed.
She smoothed her finger over the stone. “Yes,” she murmured.
“We do have its mate.”
Excitement shot through him. Excitement, and a whole lot of
hope. He’d been waiting decades for this moment. Get ready, Heaven, because
I’m coming home.
“Then I can have it?”
The three Wardens glanced at each other, and then, in a
coordinated move, they formed a circle around him, each about ten feet away.
Beneath him the ground began to glow with an eerie green light and the ice-blue
gemstone he’d been hunting for a century appeared before him out of thin air.
It was as beautiful as he remembered, its oval shape and
smooth, polished surface reflecting light in unpredictable angles onto the
grass.
“You can hold it,” Galen said, “but it cannot leave this
circle.”
Too relieved and enthralled to question Galen’s words, Razr
reached for the apple-sized diamond. The moment his skin touched the cool
surface, a sense of comfort washed over him. Comfort and joy and vindication.
He wished he could have punished the evil bastards who had stolen it. The
thieves deserved death for taking all three of Gems of Enoch and murdering
their caretakers, but there would be time to hunt them down later. Right now he had to take his prize to his superiors and get his
wings and powers unbound. After that, he could bond the gem to another human
host and then finally, finally, he’d have access to its powers again.
Except...had Galen said the stone couldn’t leave the circle?
That wasn’t acceptable.
Dropping his hand, he rounded on the Warden. “This diamond
belongs to me. I have the right to take it.”
Isla laughed, and he swore she’d just gotten
taller. No, she had gotten taller. She now stood half a head above
Galen who, at around six-five, was as tall as Razr. “We are bound by laws you
can’t even begin to understand, fallen.” The emphasis she’d put on
“fallen” made him wonder if she meant it as an insult...or if she knew he was
lying. “You might be the original owner, but we made the storage contract with
the one who entrusted it to our care. It is not our place to hand it over to
you.”
Son of a bitch. He ground his molars in frustration. His
stolen property was right in front of him. His waking nightmare was within
inches of being over. And these museum guards were going to keep it from
happening. For the millionth time, he wished he had the full use of his powers.
He couldn’t even channel the gem’s powers through his ring without a host to
amplify its energy.
But he did have friends. Friends in very low places...and
friends in very high places. If he took his case to the Angelic Court, they
could grant him an army of angels to help him reclaim his property—which
was really Heaven’s property. These dhampires
wouldn’t stand a chance.
“I can come back with a hundred angels,” he warned. “A
thousand. You can’t keep what is rightfully mine.”
Galen barked out a laugh. “A million. It wouldn’t matter. As
Isla said, we’re bound by laws beyond your ken. The things we store are beyond
your reach. But you are welcome to try. We haven’t seen much battle recently.”
“Or ye could stop being a fucking dobber
and find the current owner yer own damned self,”
Rhona suggested. “Everything ye need to know is at the tip of yer fingers.”
Could it be so easy? Curious, he palmed the diamond and
closed his eyes. In a flash of light, an image popped into his mind. A female.
A stunning female with long silver-blue hair and eyes the color of the stone in
his hand. Her pale skin was flawless and brilliant, as if she’d walked through
a cloud of diamond dust. More information came at him
like a data download, and within seconds he knew where she worked and where she
lived.
Smiling, he opened his eyes. And then he casually tried to
pocket his diamond and walk away. The Wardens even let him. Hell, they smiled.
Probably because the moment he stepped outside the glowing
circle, the stone melted away and he was struck by a bolt of lightning.
Still, electrocution and third-degree burns aside, it had
been a pretty good day.