DEATH SUITS HER_A Supernatural Reverse Harem Romance Adventure Page 3

  By the time you’re in a position to fight back, they’ve already done enough damage to have an edge.

  One, two, three, one, two, three, I continue counting in my head to calm my nerves.

  I can’t help but nervous in moments like these.

  The need to double check that we haven’t been compromised is important. I get that, but this always takes longer than it should.

  One, two, three, one, two, three.

  A loud buzzing resonates from the comms uplink at the front of the Suburban. FINALLY!

  Jessup turns the Suburban into a small side driveway that leads to the backyard.

  The ground lifts up, revealing an underground ramp.

  We pull in and drive down into the underground garage that’s nestled beneath the bungalow.

  After disembarking from the Suburban, Jessup leads us up a spiral staircase that ends at a dimly lit hallway, marked by rooms with no doors, a few beds, stacked spec ops gear, and windows covered by metal sheets that are riveted into the studs.

  In the middle of the hallway stands Hines. His arms are crossed over his barrel chest as he grins from ear-to-ear.

  He doesn’t carry a weapon like the rest of us, which is ill-advised in my opinion.

  You never know when an infiltration or compromise could occur.

  “If Jesus could cure a blind person, why not cure blindness itself?” Hines asks.

  “Is that another riddle?” Jessup asks, annoyed.

  “Nope,” Hines says. “Reason one-hundred and twenty-two that parables baffle me. A good chunk of it doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “Doesn’t our very existence as a team and the mission we’re tasked with give you enough reason to pause in wonder,” Jessup begins as he holds up the grenade containing Vic’s remains, “and doesn’t the fact that I’m holding a man’s damned soul in my hand weigh rather heavily against your admittedly humorous, but anecdotal lack of faith?”

  “I said the Bible doesn’t make sense, bud, not the hereafter,” Hines says, defending himself.

  “Difference without distinction,” Dominic adds to the discussion.

  “Oh, what do you care anyway?” Hines asks. “Despite what we do to protect humanity, you don’t even like people.”

  “True,” Dominic replies, “but I hate unsupported arguments even more.”

  I breeze past Hines who searches for support from Brody. I want nothing to do with this debate. I already have my reasons for signing up. I don’t need their justifications.

  “Bro?” Hines says to Brody.

  “C’mon, dude, you know what happened the last time we started taking sides in these theological donnybrooks,” Brody says as he mimics a plane, or possibly an angel, crashing to the ground.

  The team trudges down the hall into the operations room, where Jessup tosses the grenade to Hines.

  Hines holds it up while tapping on its side.

  “Hey there, Mister Jacobs,” he says, “you sick, murdering fucko.”

  Hines pockets the grenade.

  He then retrieves and tosses a bank-bag to Jessup.

  “Our thirty pieces of silver,” Hines says. “Not that you wouldn’t do the job anyway.”

  Jessup opens the bank-bag which brims with paper currency.

  “Not bad for one mission,” he says. “Got ‘em to pay us in Euros this time too. Good work, little guy.”

  “I’m not little,” Hines says, gesturing down at his bulk.

  “Wasn’t meant as a snide,” Jessup replies. “It’s a manner of speech. I mean it. Good work. See, this is why you sit at my right hand. Always thinking ahead. If only the other angels on the team would take a hint and be forward-thinking like you, we’d be in good shape.”

  “Always plannin’ the next operation too,” Hines replies. “Which is why I must remind you ‘bout our four o’clock op meeting.”

  Jessup’s face falls as he slumps in a chair, exhausted.

  “Count me out,” he says.

  “But Father Cote—” Hines begins to say but gets interrupted.

  Jessup waves a hand.

  “The good Father doesn’t tell me what to do,” Jessup says. “Why do you think I demand we all get what’s owed us? Who’s to say the church will still be around in a hundred or even ten years? We’ll still be here, though, fighting and holding back the onslaught. We’re going to need our sustenance if that comes to pass.”

  “As long as Father Cote is paying the bills,” Brody counters. “We need to keep ourselves in check. Don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, well, you guys can handle this one without me,” Jessup says.

  “And why is that?” Dominic asks.

  “Because our glorious leader has to take care of his...personal needs,” I answer, teasing Jessup.

  I offer him a slight smile that isn’t returned as he stands and exits the operations room.

  He heads straight for the tactical armory, which is stocked with spider silk body armor, all manner of weaponry, and containers similar to the grenade meant for capturing our targets.

  I follow close by, just far enough back to let him think he’s slipped away.

  Inside the armory, Jessup sheds his black Nomex bodysuit, revealing scarred muscles that are tense from the battle, his massive rear deltoids covered in sweat, a plethora of intricate tattoos that cover half his skin.

  Archaic script and symbols that pay homage to ancient times run from the top of his shoulders to his lower back and just a bit below his waistline.

  I notice two raised sections of welted flesh beneath both his shoulder-blades. It’s as if he was once inked by the Russian mafia and had wings that were ripped out of his body.

  Only, he really did have wings yanked from his flesh.

  He shucks his bodysuit, slips on a bulletproof vest, and dons a uniform shirt marked ‘A-1 Bail Bonding’ with his name stenciled on the front.

  It’s a goofy cover, but he once told me he picked it because he feels like a bail bondsman who really only temporarily saves people who eventually get locked up anyway.

  My gut feeling is he has more in common with those on our side who desire to break the truce and go on the offensive.

  “We’re going to be lost at the meeting without you,” I say, startling him a bit.

  He doesn’t flinch. It’s just that his quick glance over his shoulder makes it clear he didn’t know I was watching.

  “I keep telling you guys, separation anxiety isn’t fatal,” he says with a subtle smirk.

  I smirk right back at him. Who the fuck does he think he is, trying to one-up me?

  I saunter closer to him but stop short. I’m not giving in that easily.

  “I’m serious,” I say. “This isn’t a joking matter.”

  “What exactly are you serious about?” he asks, despite knowing full well what I mean.

  “That we need you,” I answer reluctantly.

  “By ‘us,’ you mean the team?” he asks.

  I glide across the distance between us to within a few inches of him. I can tell by the way he blinks that my aggressiveness flusters him.

  “Not really,” I confess. “I need you there.” I place a hand on Jessup’s arm and squeeze firmly. “I read something else, where a person once said that free will is bullshit because people always choose the path of greatest pleasure.”

  “Is that so?” he asks.

  I smile slyly.

  “That’s what I’ve heard or read,” I say. “Can’t remember for sure.”

  We exchange a look, and then our bodies collide.

  I resist for an instant, but then we give into desire at the same moment.

  My hands strip off his bulletproof vest and shirt.

  Then, I begin running my fingers along his chest and down his firm sides. I push in closer and pin him against the wall.

  I flick my tongue against his lips and pin his wrists to his sides.

  Our lips lock in a hard embrace and meld together like rolling waves rippling against one another
in perfect harmony.

  We moan together as our tongues flirt.

  I yank his boxers down a bit and press my hips to his.

  He coaxes me up by wrapping his massive arms around the bottom of my buttocks and pulls me higher.

  Lifted off the ground and entirely vulnerable in his grasp, he spins me around, rips my bullet-proof vest off, and runs his hands over the contours of every inch of my skin.

  I rip my pants down and smack him across the jaw. I hadn’t planned on doing that. It just sort of happened.

  He grins. He likes it.

  He grasps my flesh with more ferocity and desire than before.

  Then, he spins me back around.

  Our faces press against one another.

  With my legs wrapped around him, he lowers me down onto a metal table.

  Together, we push bullets, ammo cartridges, and knives to the ground.

  He rips my bra apart and flicks it away with a single motion.

  I like it, but this is all going in a direction too far from what I want. I pull back.

  Jessup has been pressing for us to be exclusive. In principle that’s fine, but after what happened with the archangel Michael, I avoid monogamy.

  The last thing I need is to spend centuries full of guilt that I didn’t just let down my leader but that I also let down my sole lover.

  I have only two rules when it comes to intimacy. I will not be tied to just one person, and any man or angel I’m with can’t be with other people as long as we’re together.

  Jessup wants to break both of my rules.

  “Something wrong?” Jessup asks.

  I sneer at him.

  Of course there’s something wrong. He knows my terms, and he wants to have it his way and his way alone.

  I’d be willing to discuss, but he won’t even do that.

  “This is a mistake,” I say.

  Jessup grimaces.

  “Just this once,” he says.

  “I’m not giving in that easily,” I reply. “I know your tricks.”

  “Your loss,” he says and begins pulling his boxers back up and snapping his belt buckle.

  “So, the meeting?” I ask.

  “Not going,” he says.

  “I’m serious,” I say. “This isn’t a joking matter or a personal matter. You need to be there.”

  Jessup ignores my plea and slings a duffel bag over his left shoulder.

  I stop him with a ‘don’t you dare’ look.

  “Word on the street is that the creepy-crawlies down under might be planning something big and it got me thinking about—well—about before,” I say as I lean in close and let my gaze smoke into his crisp brown eyes. “You ever think about the past, J? About when He cast us down? When our wings were singed, and we fell like stars through the sky?”

  “Next time do me a favor and be more melodramatic, okay,” he replies. “And we didn’t actually float down through the sky. In case you’re forgetting, we were already down below. That was the problem in the first place. We weren’t supposed to be down there. Rules, Samya. That’s why we follow the rules. So that we don’t make that mistake again.”

  He tries to brush past, but I throw my well-defined and toned arm out, stopping him cold.

  I then stroke his left elbow playfully.

  He pays me the courtesy of stopping to listen to the last thing I have to say before he takes off, at least.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I ask. “It’s like you don’t even want to be part of this anymore.”

  “I’m running late for something more important than an idiotic meeting,” he says. “It’s pressing.”

  “What would you say to someone who told you it’s tragic to spend your years with a pair of mortals?” I ask.

  “I’d tell them, or you in this case, it all comes down to free will,” he answers and takes a deep breath. “Which is the reason I started fighting in the first place.”

  He then places his firm hand on my arm and moves it aside and out of the way as he exits the tactical armory.

  He’s not getting off that easy, though. He didn’t notice, but I placed a tracker on the back of his left arm when I stroked his elbow.

  I’m following him until I find out what he’s been up to.

  4

  Pride is the First Sin

  I hope that I’m not wrong for sneaking around and keeping tabs on my teammates. It would be nice to know that I’m not being judged for it.

  Forgiveness has always been a bit out of my reach, but if others can find it in themselves to grant it to me, then, even though I don’t deserve it, I greatly appreciate it.

  I get that it’s questionable to keep tabs on my current leader, but I hate being out of the loop, and if his ‘more important’ meet is as pressing as he’s expressed, I’m not going to sit idly by and hope that not knowing the full picture doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass later.

  If I’d known the full picture during the First Holy War, I might have made different decisions. A selfish love blinded me at the time, but I’d like to think I had it within me to consider other options.

  The only way to know for sure is to face an equally impossible choice in the future. Part of me longs for it. Another part dreads it.

  What if I do make the wrong decision again? What does that say about me?

  Hindsight is never honest, and foresight isn’t one of my angelic gifts. Visions have never been granted to me up to this point.

  One day, maybe, I hope they will be. I hope to earn it at the very least.

  I’m perched atop a ledge just above where Jessup sits and waits in an idling SUV outside a rundown apartment building.

  A bus pulls up to the sidewalk, and a beautiful young woman, Amy, hops out and heads up to the apartment entrance. I’ve seen her before.

  She was an innocent civilian who’d witnessed one of our battles. It had been Jessup’s turn to wipe the memories of witnesses and innocent bystanders.

  Looks like I’m not the only one who has difficulty with being a loner. It also looks as if he might have broken his own rules.

  Jessup slips out of the SUV and catches up to Amy. He kisses her on the cheek, causing her to smile.

  She starts to say something, but Jessup puts a finger to his lips and makes a hush sound.

  They enter the apartment building without a word spoken.

  Apparently, Jessup didn’t wipe her memory. It’s possible he simply reached out to her afterward and re-introduced himself, but I doubt it.

  It’s more likely that he used his heroics to woo her. His pride would never allow him to miss a chance to seduce someone through admiration of his exploits.

  From my ledge, I watch through a window as they enter a third-floor apartment.

  Amy pours two glasses of red wine and lights a candle on the kitchen table.

  Jessup ignores the wine and stands in front of a sink. He glances at the dirty dishes and begins washing them by hand.

  His eyes are glassy, though, and it seems like his mind is elsewhere.

  I tap a bio-enhanced microchip that’s surgically implanted into my neck and hidden behind my right ear. Angelic powers combined with modern technology make me more of a force to be reckoned with than ever before. Besides, this way, I can hear what Jessup and his mistress are saying.

  Amy comes up behind and swats Jessup with a towel. He doesn’t react.

  “Tough day rounding up the bad guys?” she asks.

  Jessup shoots her a sideways look.

  “You ever think that time’s passing us by, Ames?” he asks.

  “Oh, you’re not having an existential crisis, are you?” she asks. “You’re much sexier when you’re overconfident, and you do have the power to back it up.”

  He glares at her with a mix of kindness and melancholy in his eyes.

  “Sometimes it seems like a million years ago when we first met,” he replies.

  “Which is weird because I don’t think you’ve aged a bit since our first date,” A
my says. “Wish I had angel blood.”

  Jessup stares into the sink.

  “You know what I remember about that day?” he asks, ignoring her comment. “Going home afterward and telling myself over and over to keep quiet because I was scared I’d ask too many questions and find out something I didn’t like about you. At the same time, I was worried you’d ask too many questions.”

  “That’s silly,” Amy replies. “I accept you as you are no matter what skeletons you have in the closet.”

  “No, it isn’t silly. When you find someone special, you don’t ask too many questions, or they have an opportunity to wise up and change their mind about everything. There are things I don’t want you to know.”

  “There’s nothing I’d change about a single moment,” Amy says.

  Then she leans in close and kisses Jessup on the lips. It’s a short but passionate embrace.

  “I think I’m done with the job,” Jessup says. “I might have to be, or we can’t see each other anymore.”

  “I’ve heard that before. I’m keeping track,” Amy says and scoffs. “This is ‘I’m going to leave it all behind’ moment number twelve.”

  Jessup puts the dishes down.

  “I mean it this time. It’s getting more dangerous, and I can’t risk you being caught in the crossfire. Things are happening that are beyond my control, and I think I should get out. I want more time doing things like this. I want to have coffee in public. I want to go out and be seen with you. I want pictures in this home of me. I don’t want to hide what and who I am. I deserve to be myself and stop pretending like I’m just another guy.”

  “I prefer a little privacy. It’s part of why I’m drawn to you,” Amy says. “But whatever you decide, I’ll be behind you a hundred percent.”

  Jessup smiles, drapes an arm around Amy.

  The two of them intertwine and run their hands over each other’s skin.

  “I have to choose,” Jessup confesses. “My responsibility to fight or my personal desires. It’s time to choose what’s best for me.”

  “Don’t do this,” Amy pleads.

  Jessup places his right hand on her forehead and closes his eyes.

  A burst of energy emanates from his palm.