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Michael’s eyes narrowed on Remy, who raised a brow, passing him a warning look not to continue with the Julian business. “You know you can’t go back to your apartment,” said Remy in a matter-of-fact way. “They know where you live.”

He closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead. He could keep denying what was obvious, or he could face the truth. Neither option was going to be easy.

“When it’s safe, we’ll send a team to retrieve your personal belongings,” continued Remy. “It is not safe for you to go there. It may never be.”

His world shifted, the weight of it nearly oppressive. “You really believe I am…Nephilim? That my father was a fallen angel?”

Luke observed him. “Yes.”

He leaned back, exhausted. “So my life is over now?” Wasn’t like he had much of a life anyway. He’d only had his mother, but when she died, that was the last of his family. Though he wasn’t close to anyone in particular, still, it had been his life.

Cocking his head to the side, Luke smiled. It was a real smile. The first Michael had ever seen on his face. “No. Your life begins now.”


Baal stormed through his penthouse, laying waste to three minions that had stepped forward to service him. Their screams didn’t assuage his anger. Nothing would. That bitch had gotten away from him again because of Julian. Baal wanted nothing more than to spread that little bitch’s thighs and burn her from the inside out while Julian watched.

He threw open the French doors to his bedroom and paused.

A young boy stood by his bed, his hands folded neatly. In a tailor-made suit to fit a child of his size, he looked like he was attending Sunday mass. It amused Asmodeus to dress him so. Children possessed by a misled soul decayed at a slower rate. Sometimes it took years for it to happen. Asmodeus soon hoped to have more like the boy, but ones who would never show the signs of possession.

“Baal,” the boy spoke with a soft accent, “I’ve brought you a present.”

That he did. Sprawled across black satin was a young woman with deep brown hair and curvy legs that peeked out from the edge of her pencil skirt. Her white blouse had been ripped down the middle, and her ample breasts spilled through the cloth.

Asmodeus’s little prodigy always knew how to please people. Baal approached the bed, staring down at the lovely thing. “Is she alive?”

“Of course,” he answered. “Do you wish for anything else?”

“No.”

The young boy bowed before quietly shutting the doors behind him. Baal turned back to the unconscious woman. He leaned over her, running his hand through her hair. She stirred, and a breathless whimper escaped her parted lips.

“Wake,” he ordered softly. He watched as her lashes fluttered against her cheeks and then, much to his delight, striking green eyes met his. Ah, he would need to give special thanks to his boy. He had done well.

The young woman’s eyes widened as she took in Baal. He knew what she saw. His beauty choked her terror, made her forget how she got there.

“What is your name?”

She wetted her lips. “Alicia.”

Baal smiled fully. “Come to me, Alicia.”

She climbed to her knees before him, flushed and eager. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Baal reached out and ran the tips of his fingers along her face.

“Remove your blouse.”

She complied with a small shudder. His gaze slipped to the rosy peaks. The tips hardened under his stare. Maybe this would soften his foul mood? He would try at least.

“Enjoying yourself?” Asmodeus asked.

He didn’t look away from the woman at the sound of his voice. “I am about to.”

“Why did you involve yourself this evening?”

Baal lowered his hand to one of the fleshy mounds and squeezed. The woman moaned a sound of pain mixed with pleasure. “I sensed William’s intent to take the new Nephilim. I would have had him if it wasn’t for Julian. The Nephilim would’ve been my gift to you.”

Asmodeus stepped from the darkened corner of the room. “Julian is not the problem.”

“I want to kill him,” announced Baal as he idly flicked the young woman’s nipple. He hardened at the sound of her soft cry.

“In time, but he is of no concern to me at this moment.” Asmodeus stepped closer to the bed.

The woman glanced at him anxiously. Baal could easily read her feelings. She was shocked, turned on by the two beautiful men. He knew she considered bedding them both, and then she looked into Asmodeus’s eyes. She shrank back, showing real fear for the first time.

Baal caught her by the chin, tipping her head up, forcing her back to arch. He relished the rapid beat of her pulse and the pungent smell of her uncertainty. “What do you want with the cop? I don’t understand what is so important about him.” He glanced at Asmodeus. “He’s just another Nephilim.”

Asmodeus drifted away, smirking. “He is very important to me. I don’t expect you to understand.”

“And the senator?” he asked.

“The aide served his purpose, but he is of no more use. To anything.” Asmodeus laughed, and the woman shuddered at the cold sound. “I will be meeting with the senator soon.”

Baal’s grip tightened on her chin; his skin flared. The woman shrieked, but he held on as the smell of burned flesh wafted through the air. “Be quiet, Alicia.”

“I shall leave you to your…pleasures.” He paused at the door. “I do have one request, Baal.”

Baal lifted his mouth from where her pulse beat frantically. “Yes?”

“If you go after the female Nephilim one more time, you will wish I had simply removed your head from your body.”

A second later, Asmodeus was gone. The female Nephilim may be off-limits now, but that did nothing to ease the desire to rip the little whore to pieces. Closing his eyes, he swore under his breath and pictured Lily before him, which wasn’t hard given the resemblance. Wordlessly, he moved his head down her throat and lower. The young woman’s whimpers turned into terrified screams.

Baal smiled.

Chapter Ten

Lily snuck out of the Sanctuary through one of the numerous tunnels, then rode the metro home the following morning. Nathaniel was going to be pissed when he discovered her missing without so much as a note, but he would know where she’d gone, and he wouldn’t follow.

Not after last night.

She unlocked her door and stepped into her apartment with a shaky sigh. Nathaniel’s shock at seeing her arm last night kept gnawing at her. He’d known immediately that Baal had come for Michael, which made no sense. Sure, Michael was an untrained Nephilim, one who could be easily swayed, but why the hell would Baal care? While the doctors had tended to her arm, Nathaniel had questioned her until she’d fallen asleep. Whatever she said to him was useless. She had no clue as to why one of the original Fallen would be interested in the cop.

She dropped her keys on the counter, going straight to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of OJ. Gulping the juice down in one long swallow, she ran the back of her hand over her mouth.

The memory of Baal’s touch was too fresh. It had taken her months to get back into the swing of things after the first time he laid the smackdown on her. And it had taken years for the nightmares to go away. His brutality back then had left her unsure if she could do her duty.

She shuddered, trying to shake off the horror. She didn’t have the luxury now to let it affect her.

Anger and desperation welled up, and in one quick turn, she threw the empty bottle across the room. It made a less-than-satisfying thud.

She was an utter mess after having slept in her clothes. Her shirt was wrinkled beyond recognition, and the knees of her leather pants were scuffed. Leaving the kitchen and the minor mess she just created, she went into the dark bedroom.

Normally the first thing she’d do when home was throw open the curtains and let in the sunshine. Her rooms at the Sanctuary were several levels underground, where no light could penetrate. It had been one of the reasons she’d picked an apartment that afforded so many sources of natural light.

But today she left the heavy curtains in place. In total darkness, she stripped and went into the adjoining bathroom, where she drew a scalding bath. She sat on the edge of the garden tub while steam filled the air. Her gaze fell to her thigh. The irregular pink flesh seemed as noticeable today as it had the first time she’d seen it.

The doctors had kept her leg wrapped for days, and at that time, it hadn’t been her biggest concern. Baal had done a number on her. He’d broken two of her ribs, cracked three more, and fractured her arm. He had also dislocated her jaw and splintered her left eye socket. But it could have been much worse—she knew that.

Her insides tightened as nausea swept through her.

The horrific things Baal had whispered to her as he pinned her down on the dirty floor, prying her legs apart, leaving his mark behind as she cried, would haunt her forever. If Julian hadn’t shown up…

She swallowed the sudden thickening in her throat. Somehow Julian had healed the worst of her injuries after fighting off Baal, exposing the fact that he had retained some of his angelic powers from the days before he fell. The doctors had questioned how she had healed so quickly, but for reasons unbeknownst to her, she had kept his ability a secret.

She’d been lucky this time around.

Lily turned off the water and then sank down, letting out a sigh of bliss as her rigid muscles relaxed. Keeping her bandaged arm above water, she slipped her head under, wishing the simple action could wash away her mind, too.

The silence was welcoming. The last two days had been the longest ever, and the week had only begun.

Running out of air, she broke the surface and opened her eyes, steamy water streaming down her face.

Two extraordinarily bright blue eyes locked onto hers. For a second, her brain didn’t recognize what was happening, and all she could do was stare.

Julian sat on the edge of the tub, staring back at her. There was a mischievous quirk to his lips that faded when his gaze dropped to her rosy peaks.

Snapping out of the shock, she shrieked and jerked up. Water sloshed over the rim and Julian’s leg as she covered her breasts and curled up her legs. “What in God’s name are you doing in here?”

He tipped his head to the side. “I wanted to see you.”

Her heart was throwing itself against her ribs. “In my bathroom? How the hell did you even get in here?”

“I wanted to be here, so I’m here.” His gaze dropped to her hands—and the skin she couldn’t cover. She flushed. “It’s really quite easy.”

“How is it that easy?” Her jaw hurt from how tightly she clenched her teeth.

His lips twitched. “You want to see?”

Not really. “Yes.”

There was a certain playful quality to how he leaned back, catching her wide-eyed gaze and holding it. He winked, and then he was simply gone.

Her mouth dropped open as she twisted around frantically. He was nowhere in her bathroom. Unless he was hiding in her cabinet, and that seemed unlikely. This perhaps explained how quickly he moved, because he wasn’t really moving. He was disappearing.


Tags: Jennifer L. Armentrout Nephilim Rising Fantasy