They were on the road before dawn and across the Utah/Nevada border before midmorning.
Vash gripped the steering wheel and tried not to think about the restless night behind her. Elijah, damn him, had slept like a log, which said more clearly than anything that he didn’t consider her a threat at al .
She’d tried to work. There was so much to be done. But she’d been distracted by the way he had stretched out next to her with one arm tossed carelessly over his head, showing off beautiful y defined biceps. And the way the sheet had clung tantalizingly low on his hips…A tiny tug would have revealed al of his impressive assets.
Vash loved a healthy man’s body as much as the next woman, but Elijah’s was a work of art, his powerful frame covered in mouthwatering ridges of muscle she wanted to trace with her tongue and hands and— “These are al warehouses,” Elijah muttered, looking over the property listings she’d printed out.
“Warehouses with plenty of parking, room for a helipad, top-of-the-line electrical systems, and air-conditioning.” She glanced at him. “I know how touchy you lycans get when you’re overheated.”
“It’s not easy being furry.”
It took a moment for the levity of his dry statement to sink in. Looking out the windshield, she felt her lips curve. He was feeling more himself, it seemed, and she was relieved. His pain yesterday had moved her, made her see him in a far more personal way than she would’ve wished. His sincere grief proved his strength of character in many ways—he’d taken an action he knew would cost him personal y to benefit the many. She respected both that toughness and his wil ingness to shed tears without shame.
“These properties are expensive,” he said bluntly. “Syre’s making a hel of an investment in an al iance that hasn’t been tested.”
“I’l kil you if you double-cross me. Stake your head on a pike for other lycans to see.”
“You’re expecting me to screw you over.”
“Your breed’s track record isn’t so hot. Your ancestors ditched us for Adrian to save their hides and you just ditched Adrian, once again to save your ass.”
His gaze seared her profile. “You’re skipping over mil ennia and multiple generations. With the average lycan lifespan being two hundred and thirty years, there’s not a single lycan in existence who’s been touched by what happened to the Watchers. Most of them couldn’t even tel you which angel they’re descended from.”
Yet the memory of her fal was as fresh to her as if it had occurred mere weeks ago instead of lifetimes. “So if you forget an obligation, it doesn’t count?”
“Not what I meant. It’s just a tough sel enforcing promises made on behalf of someone who’s centuries away from being born.”
“Your great-great-grandwolfies made that decision for you. A shame you can’t ask them about it.” Familiar bitterness coated her tongue. “I expected fidelity from the angels who served beside me. We made our beds—it’s not a tough sel thinking they’d be honorable for lying in them.”
“I was told the Fal en who became lycans hadn’t broken the laws the rest of you did,” Elijah said.
Vash shot him a scathing glance and became even more irritated by how delicious he looked. She would’ve thought that after seeing how impressive he was naked, seeing him dressed would be no big deal. But he managed to make the casual attire of wide-legged jeans and plain black T-shirt look stunning. He was a big, brawny hunk of a male, capable of taking on a woman of her strength and force of wil in a way very few men could. That got to her. Made her hot and hungry for the greedy touch of a passionate man’s hands. His hands. The hands she’d watched stroke over his bare skin in deliberate provocation.
Of course, she wasn’t even sure she remembered how to have sex anymore… She looked away. “That’s a cop-out. We al lost our way in some manner or another. We were tasked with observing and reporting. Any sort of contact with mortals was outside our scope as Watchers—seeing, talking, hearing, touching, teaching. But we were scholars. We thirsted for knowledge, the giving and receiving of it. We couldn’t resist the desire to interact.”
He tucked the property spec sheets back in the file. “But you didn’t. Not like the others did.”
“I took a mate.”
“Charron. Another Watcher like you. Not a mortal.”
“I know what they say about me, that I martyred myself out of a twisted sense of loyalty to the others, that I wasn’t as guilty because I mated with another angel. But I fraternized in nonsexual ways. I taught what I knew, gave man knowledge they weren’t ready for yet. So when I walked up to a Sentinel with my head held high and accepted my punishment without a fight, it’s because I deserved it. I also thought His fury was just a test of our resolve. The Creator had never al owed the shedding of an angel’s blood before. I thought if we showed our remorse and repentance that we’d be forgiven our trespasses.” She blew out her breath in a rush. “And then the Sentinels were created.”
Her eyes lost their focus on the road, her mind rewinding to that bleak, heartrending time of her life. She would never forget looking down from her hidden vantage, seeing Adrian and Syre battling in the field below while Sentinels rimmed one side and the soon-to-be-Fal en Watchers the other.
The deadly dance had been terrifyingly beautiful. Adrian with his alabaster wings and Syre with wings of iridescent blue. Both men tal and dark.
Works of art lovingly crafted by the Creator. The best and most favored of their respective castes.
Their fists had pummeled each other viciously; tenderizing flesh and rippling muscle. Twisting and lunging, their wings had swirled fluidly around them like massive capes.
But Syre had been no match for the honed instrument of punishment that was Adrian. Syre was a scholar; Adrian a warrior. Syre had been softened by the humanity that seeped into him via his love for his mortal mate. Adrian was too new to the earth; his control and purpose had yet to be eroded by emotion of any kind. And his entire body was lethal. Unlike the Watchers, the Sentinels were weaponized from head to toe. The tips of their feathers sliced like knives, and their hands and feet clawed with talons that shredded through skin and bone.
Syre had been vulnerable; Adrian inviolate.
In the moment after the Sentinel leader had severed the wings from Syre’s back, his head had lifted and his flame-blue gaze had locked with hers. There had been nothing in the cerulean depths but angelfire, the scorching vengeance of the Creator from which he’d been forged. Over time Vashti would watch those eyes change, as the Sentinel leader settled into his life on earth and fel prey to Shadoe’s erotic hunger.
“Hey.” Elijah’s voice broke into her reverie. “Where’d you go?”