Angel Unleashed

He had been that somebody for a very long time.

“So, what do you use your power for?” he asked the empty space next to him, wishing the leather-clad angel wannabe was standing there. Her exemplary fighting skills, seen firsthand tonight, could have helped London’s mortal population. The sheer number of scars on her body told him she’d been in many skirmishes. She hadn’t shied away from facing vamps tonight.

Studying the roofline above him, Rhys felt more confused than ever. The light up there had dimmed.

“Maybe you’re a fallen star in human form? As if that were possible?”

Thoughts sputtered as he perceived another disturbance in the night.

He searched the roofline.

The slightest ripple in the dark suggested to him that her light had not faded on its own, and that his angel had company on that rooftop. Noticeable in the breeze rustling the hem of his coat was a sulfurous odor of rust and freshly overturned earth.

Growls of anger erupted from Rhys’s throat. Without considering how many times she had told him to go away, he reached for the ledge above him with both hands and put his boot to the brick.

* * *

“Come out,” Avery taunted, aware of what was heading her way. “I’m in no mood for playing hide-and-seek.”

Her company on the rooftop was a Shade, the ghostly leftover of a nasty human whose afterlife had never been set straight. Unlike true ghosts, Shades could do great harm to the unsuspecting. Like some kinds of Reapers, they sucked the life from their victims for revenge over their own damned fates. They were also cleanup crews for the vampires, picking at leftovers. Otherworldly vultures.

And they had pretty good hearing. As the shadowy form slithered over the lip of the roof tiles, Avery welcomed it with a wry smile.

Gliding on feet that didn’t actually touch the ground, the bugger kept to the dark areas cast over the rooftop by the higher floors of the building beside theirs. It was ironic that Shades preferred shade.

“What do you want here?” Avery fingered the blade that could do this creeper some damage if she found the right spot, despite the creature’s haziness.

“Speak up.”

“Come with me.” The response was high-pitched and could have been either a male or female voice.

“I’m busy at the moment. So, no, thanks.”

“Important,” the Shade suggested, halting where moonlight met the mildewed slate tiles.

“Everything is important these days,” Avery said.

“I know what you seek, pale one.”

“Doubtful, since it has nothing to do with your kind.”

“You speak folly and understand nothing about what’s been entrusted to us.”

Avery’s index finger slid along the razor-sharp edge of her blade. She closely observed the Shade’s reaction to the scent of blood. The thing wasn’t a vampire, and therefore not fueled by hemoglobin, but the odor it gave off told her it had been in a musty vampire den recently. Things like bloodlust tended to rub off on those who frequented dark places.

Drops of blood beaded on her skin, its whiteness nearly invisible to the naked eye. Smelling it, the shadowy creature leaned forward, nearly taking a step that would have solidified its outline in the moon’s light—bright light avoidance was one thing these guys had in common with the bloodsucker population. But it held back.

“We know what you seek,” the Shade said, teetering on the brink of pushing its luck with her. “We have news of such a thing. I can show you.”

“Really?” another voice called out in Avery’s place. “I wonder what that thing might be, Shade.”

Avery looked past the creature rapidly backing into the shadows. Her formidable Blood Knight, now calling himself Rhys, had returned and stood with his dagger in his hand, looking every bit like the legends of old had come to life. Formidable. Intimidating to all who might stand against him.

Avery’s nerves pinged. Her heart rate soared, as did her pounding pulse. She had known the Knight would find her if she didn’t get a move on. So why hadn’t she tried to lose him?

Her attention was divided. The Shade’s behavior had been more abnormal than the usual Shade bag of tricks. What it had said was interesting. Shades would know better than to attack an immortal, but had it been trying to tell her something that actually pertained to her very private search?

We know what you seek.

Unlike her, and unlike the Blood Knight across from her, most of the world’s other monsters lied through their teeth.

“What? No answer?” the Blood Knight said, taking one step toward the shadows the Shade had blended into.

Avery knew he wouldn’t pursue the damn thing and that he had come here for another reason. She was that reason. Still, she had to wonder how a Shade could have been aware of the fact that she searched for anything. Believing it had known something would also prove how desperate she was to be reunited with the missing pieces of herself.

All these speculations were moot points, though, since the Shade was gone.

“Saving the day, Knight? You scared that poor sucker,” Avery said thoughtfully.

He turned toward her. “Are you into self-mutilation these days, angel? That cut on your hand?”

His use of the word angel jump-started the nerve burn that followed. Avery stared back at him, reasoning that he knew nothing.

“Why didn’t you dispense with that no-good creature?” he asked, waving at the pool of darkness.

“I didn’t have to. You rode in on a white horse.”

Her companion grinned. “Would you have dispensed with it?”

“Probably not. It meant me no harm.”

“Said no mortal that had ever encountered one of them on a dark street and lived to tell about it.”

“We both know that kind of danger doesn’t necessarily apply to us,” she pointed out.

“The thing issued an invitation for you to follow it home, all cozy-like.”

“Yes, it did.”

“Are Shades famous for helping others?”

When she didn’t answer, he said, “I rest my case.”

He was right, of course. Yet, as Avery glanced to the shadows, she wondered why she had felt reasonably sure this Shade knew something that might have helped her quest. The awareness was a gut feeling, with no sound basis whatsoever, but what the hell? Gut feelings were often part of intuition.

Her Knight spoke again. “Was that creature right in the assumption that you’ve come to London looking for something? You’ve hinted at needing to be left alone to do what you came here to do. If you tell me what you’re looking for, I’ll help with your search.”

Her inner flutters persisted. At the base of her spine, chills were piling up. Avery had to hide her body’s quakes. Because of the amount of effort that took, she was close to telling this Knight what he wanted to hear. She was so very tired of keeping things to herself.

“Who would you rather trust with that information? That hazy black sucker or me?” he said.

When she didn’t answer that question, he said, “I see. And I’m sorry you feel threatened.”

“Nothing you could do would threaten me.”

That statement wasn’t entirely true, however, and even the partial falsehood stung Avery to her core. The handsome bastard’s looks alone posed a threat to her many lifetimes of isolation. His hand-picked existence had threatened hers by taking away her freedom. Plus, her heart was misbehaving by beating way too fast, as if all the time she’d spent cursing him didn’t amount to squat when facing the real deal.

Discomfort came with his continued scrutiny and from being the central focus of any Blood Knight’s attention.

That kiss didn’t mean anything.

“I know the closeness back there was meant as a distraction, if that’s what you’re worrying about,” he said.

Words failed her, even in thought, which was never a good sign. Strangely enough, she was weakening, caving to this guy’s well-practiced, bronzed allure. While she knew better than to give in, she just couldn’t seem to help herself.

This is why I’ve stayed away from you, Avery wanted to confess.

She kept her mouth shut.

“I will again offer you my assistance,” he said in that irritating way he had of sounding chivalrous. “One last offer. Take it or leave it.”

Avery considered his offer carefully. She didn’t have to like him. They didn’t have to be friends. The old vows could stand if she allowed this guy to help her this once. After finding her wings, she would hit the road and curse him all over again.

“If you know what I am, you must also know what I can do, and that I mean what I say,” he added.

I know your mission is to do good in this world, endlessly and forever. But can I forget the past long enough to accept your help in such a personal quest?

Major stumbling block. Could she bypass that damn kiss and how this Knight made her feel, when she hadn’t felt anything for countless years?

Maybe he could be trusted. But could she trust herself around him if a simple kiss had sent her running? Former prejudices weren’t worth much if they could be obliterated by a pretty face.

I’m not like you.

Not anything like you.

Sadly, that wasn’t quite true, either, since the Knight also carried in his immortal soul the light of the Divine. She had been a crucial link in passing that light to him. And damned if it wasn’t that same light that made her want to get closer to him now.

“In seeking you out, I wanted to make sure you were all right,” he explained. “That’s all.”

“Liar,” she said. Possibly he couldn’t lie straight out, but he wasn’t telling her everything.

His electric-blue gaze intensified, leaving Avery feeling naked and exposed.

“You’re right,” he conceded. “I wanted something else as well. Friendship.”

“A half truth, at best.”

Nodding, he started over. “All right. The truth is I want a lot more than that. So, shall I go, or will you dare to confide at least part of your story?”

Do not give in.

Look away if you have to.

Avery managed to hold to those two inner commands for a few seconds before she spoke again.

“I’ve lost something that I’ve been trying to find for decades. My search has been exhaustive and has finally brought me back to London.”

He waited for her to go on.

“I had all but given up before being called back to London. I feel close to my goal here and have to give this quest one last shot.”

Avery saw how the word quest affected the man across from her. For all his glorious Knightness, the guy wasn’t so difficult to read. His extended life span had been based on that same concept. Quest.

“How much do you know about me?” he asked. “How do you know about Blood Knights?”

“I was privy to that information early on, from a source I can’t disclose.”

“Can’t, or won’t disclose?”

“It’s the same thing, in the end.”

He took a step toward her. “You know my story, and I can’t know yours?”

“I doubt you’d want to help me if I told you my story.”

“It’s that bad?”

“To some.”

“Are you a demon?”

Avery shook her head. “That much I will swear to.”

“Then you have the advantage, I’m thinking,” he said.

“Can you live with that for a while longer and still help?”

He smiled. “I thought you said you knew me.”

His smile brought back the deep internal flutter she had experienced earlier. There was no hint of treachery in his expression and no sign of his fangs. Avery wanted to return the smile but wasn’t sure she remembered how. Pain had a tendency to darken even the lightest moments. Although this man was part of that pain, there was a chance he could help her rise above the agony of her existence, and at this late hour, set things straight.

If that wasn’t to happen, and things didn’t go that way, what would fill the empty space inside her that pain occupied? What would happen to the memories carved into her body and her mind? Without those memories, nothing would matter. He wouldn’t matter.

“You’ve gone quiet,” he noted when the silence stretched.

Don’t you see it, Blood Knight? See me?

What kind of creature has white blood in their veins?

How many beings walking this Earth have one boot on the ground and the other in the heavens?

Doesn’t my skin tell you something important?

Are you looking deep enough? Hard enough?

Do you not see yourself in me?

Her story? Until the twenty-first century, when whole sections of the human race had gone through phases with names like Goth and cyberpunk, she’d had to stay completely hidden. After that, when pretty much anything worked, fitting in was easier. Her white skin was even envied by a select few. Dressed in black leather, she could skate through crowds if she had to, if those crowds occupied the outskirts of places where normal people gathered.

Parts of her story encapsulated this Knight’s story, as well. Neither of them could ever really fit in. The magnificent Blood Knight was hugging the shadows, just as she was. They were freaks because of their unique kind of beauty.

When she looked up, he had raised a hand as if expecting her to take it. As if he was tossing her a lifeline to a better place.

Go to hell, was the response on the tip of her tongue. But that was overruled by another reaction. Because, God, yes, she wanted to take that hand, touch him, believe in him. She wanted those things badly enough to taste the sweet irony of her own stubborn objections. Way back, she had trusted in the power of good, and in those who wielded goodness like a weapon.

The Knight spoke again. “If you allow me to help with this quest of yours, you’ll be doing me a favor, you know. Things can get pretty boring around here. Same old fights. Endless hours. More and more monsters.”

Body rebelling, mind reeling with comebacks so indecent they’d send this Knight away forever... Avery took a breath and closed her eyes. Another surprise, one to top all of the others, was hearing herself say, “Yes. Okay. Help me.”

Afraid to see his reaction, she kept her eyes shut, figuring a thank-you would have been going too damn far, even if this Blood Knight expected it.

Chapter 8

“Good,” Rhys said, though he wasn’t sure his new companion wholeheartedly agreed with what she had just committed to. On the plus side, she didn’t run away. When her eyes reopened, she turned her head to listen to the sounds he also heard.

“Do we fight what’s coming our way first?” she asked. “That’s what you’re supposed to do, isn’t it? Keep the streets safe?”

“It’s what I choose to do,” Rhys corrected. “You feel the monsters coming?”

“Like a foul wave.”

“Maybe facing more of them isn’t what you choose to do.”

“I’ve had my moments with the monsters. Far too many.”

Was that the cause of her scars? Rhys wondered.

“So we turn back this tide and then we talk about your search,” he said.

“Yes. Then we talk.”

He walked to the edge of the roof and peered over, joined by this new, unlikely companion whose body language made it clear she wasn’t going to get too close to him.

Go ahead, Rhys thought. Keep your distance a while longer.

“Ten of them,” she noted, her attention fixed on the street. “Vampires. Not so young this time. The odor is fouler, stronger.”

“Ten is ten too many to be roaming the streets all at once,” Rhys said.

With her silhouette half hidden by her fall of fair hair, his companion gave him a sideways glance. “How many can you take?”

“All ten. How about you?”

“I could leave you one, if you like.”

Rhys grinned. “Very generous.” He waved at the street below them. “On the count of three?”

“Hell, why wait?” she said, and jumped.

They’d been three stories up. Rhys landed in a crouch on the pavement with one hand on the asphalt. She was beside him. Standing in unison, they looked both ways to make sure they hadn’t been seen and then took off at a jog toward the oncoming gang of vamps.

Lucky for Londoners, it was the wee hours of the night, or morning, depending on which way they looked at it. Most people would be tucked safely in their beds. The few roaming around at 3:00 a.m. would have a hard lesson to learn if they weren’t careful, and if a Guardian hadn’t been watching this particular area.

The woman next to him waved a hand upward, indicating that a couple of the fanged horde had climbed drainpipes to reach the higher floors of the building beside them. Nodding, Rhys headed after those beasts. Climbing as easily as the bloodsuckers had, he reached the roof in seconds, hoping his companion would be able to handle things on the ground until he returned.

Two bloodless faces peered at him speculatively as he approached. Older vampires, but not ancient. Experienced. Hungry. Dull black eyes showed no hint of recognition when fixed on him. Word had not yet spread to this nest about the Guardian in their midst, a being with fangs who came from a larger gene pool.

“Not a good night to be out in this part of town,” Rhys said. “Tonight there are two of us to welcome you.”

Neither of the bloodsuckers responded with an audible comeback. To Rhys, their thoughts were like waves of chatter. Too hungry to remain idle, both vampires rushed toward him with their fangs exposed. Their taloned hands slashed at the air.

Rhys had the first vamp on the ground before the second reached him, holding it firmly with a boot on the bloodsucker’s bony chest. The damn thing snapped and squirmed, struggling to free itself. In this state, the beast could have butchered any human in its path.

Rhys put the vampire out of its misery with a stake to the chest in time to face the second attacker. He was doing the people of London and these creatures a favor. No decent human being would have wanted this kind of fanged afterlife existence.

Vampire number two was wily and halted a few steps from Rhys, taking stock of its formidable opponent. Mouth opening and closing as if snapping at the air, it issued a shrill cry.

“Won’t help. The good folks around here need protection, and at the moment I’m their best bet.”

The vampire turned its attention from Rhys to the street below them, as if aware of some new threat. Beyond the echo of its cry, Rhys heard what the monster had heard—the sharp repeat of a weapon going off, followed closely by an echoing howl.

Recognizing the sound, the vampire took off in a smear of speed that would have rendered it invisible to any human that had been looking. Rhys caught the creature by its coattails near the roof’s rim and spun the bloodsucker around.

“How many more of you are there?” Rhys demanded, his face close to the death mask that was the vampire’s face.

Mad with bloodlust and the need to escape, the vamp lunged sideways, biting at Rhys’s right arm. With a swift motion born of decades of self-defense, Rhys flung the vampire over the edge of the roof and lunged after it.

He needn’t have bothered giving chase, as it turned out. Funnels of gray ash met him on the ground, all that was left of that particular monster.

Standing in a rainfall of ash stood his petite, blue-eyed warrior maiden, silver blade in hand. Rhys saw no other vampires. Their foul scent had dissipated to a faint, odorous stench.

The pale warrior’s dark-rimmed blue eyes met his.

“All eight?” Rhys asked, after a beat.

“Nine,” she corrected. “I’m assuming you got the other one?”

That was the moment—as Rhys faced the immortal who was looking more like an avenging angel than anything else—that he figured her story had to be one hell of a tale, and that he’d be damned if he’d let her go without hearing all of it.

And maybe he wouldn’t let her go, even then.

* * *

The way this Knight looked at her had changed, Avery noted with a flare of internal heat. Curiosity had been replaced with something else. His expression was unreadable.

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