Ecstasy Unveiled

Three

What. The. Fuck.

Lore stood like a dope, knee-deep in snow in the middle of some godforsaken forest, cradling his would-be killer to his chest and wondering how everything had gone to hell so fast. He’d been a heartbeat away from completing his assignment, and now he was in the middle of nowhere, confused, and in a shitload of pain.

Agony screamed through his chest with every breath. Damned ribs were broken. A raspy moan reminded him that the female in his arms was far worse off. Whatever Tayla had shot her with had done some serious damage. Obviously, his Guardian sister-in-law had believed the female to be the threat to Kynan, rather than Lore.

He still wasn’t sure why he was holding the little troublemaker instead of killing her. The bitch was mouthy, she’d tried to kill him, and her heavy ass was hell on his ribs.

Though to be fair, she wasn’t that heavy. Just… tall. And curvy. And athletically solid. Hell, she looked like she worked out with some serious weights.

As far as mouthy… damn, she had a nice one. Wide, with full lips made to make a male beg. Her features were perfect—finely wrought, delicate, feminine in a way that was utterly out of sync with the dangerous power she wielded. And she smelled as if she’d bathed in cinnamon sugar. Exotic. Sexy. Edible.

But what the hell was she, why was she after him, and why the fuck did he suddenly crave cookies in bed?

The need to get the answers to his questions had him putting out feelers for the nearest Harrowgate. His demon senses picked up on one nearby, which was good, because carrying her was going to hurt. As much as he hated to do it, he’d have to get her to Underworld General so his brothers could patch her up well enough for interrogation. If someone had put out a hit on him, he needed to know.

Who sent you?

God.

Yeah, right. How many assassin masters did he know who insisted upon being called God? This chick could be working for any of a dozen assholes.

He weaved through the trees, leaving a trail of blood—both his and hers—in the snow as he limped toward the gate. Twice he had to stop to gather her waist-length pony-tail so he didn’t step on it. At least it was tightly bound, the thick brown rope secured every six inches or so by elaborately jeweled gold bands. The effect, combined with her smooth, porcelain skin and honey-colored, almond eyes, made her one of the most striking females he’d ever seen.

But hey, if someone was going to try to kill him, he’d rather it be a hot, bloodthirsty chick than some ugly-ass dude. He hefted her higher to avoid impaling her on a tree branch, and yep, definitely better that his would-be killer was a feather-light female.

The Harrowgate loomed ahead, a vertical, shimmering curtain of light, visible only to demons. God, he hated those things. Every time he stepped into one, he felt as if his humanity was being leached out. He was always a little more raw, a little more on edge when he came out on the other side, and he wondered when the day would come that he arrived at his destination as nothing but a monster.

He hoped it wouldn’t be this day.

He limped inside and was immediately swallowed by almost complete darkness as the gate closed. Obsidian walls etched with crude maps that represented Earth and Sheoul surrounded him on all sides, the thin lines that made up the maps glowing in a painter’s palette of colors.

In his arms, the female spasmed, the force of her seizure knocking him hard into the wall. Pain tore through his upper body and his arm went limp, and motherfuck, his left shoulder had wrenched from the socket. Sucking air between his teeth, he gently lowered the female to the floor and used his good hand to tap out the map—North America, the United States, New York state, New York City—until he found the medical emblem that would take him to Underworld General Hospital, which existed beneath the streets of the Big Apple, right under unsuspecting human noses.

The gate opened into an emergency room illuminated by red bulbs caged in rows on the ceiling. A tremor of unease tripped through him, which wasn’t a surprise, given that the last time he was here, he’d come to kill his brothers.

Talk about awkward.

Cookie was still lying motionless on the floor of the Harrowgate, and she was going to stay there unless Lore got his act together. He cradled his useless arm and eye-balled one of the stone columns supporting the Harrow-gate entrance. Shit. This was gonna hurt like a mother.

Bracing himself, he jammed his shoulder into the pillar. Pain cluster-bombed his arm as it popped back into the socket. A wave of nausea rolled over him, but he gathered up the female and limped toward the triage desk.

The nurse manning the station, a dark-skinned, humanoid Bedim demon, looked up from a stack of paperwork. An extremely sensual species whose females were usually kept in a harem, the Bedim rarely ventured into the world outside whatever Sheoulin palace they lived in. Lore might have appreciated her bid for independence, had he not been bleeding to death.

“You are both injured,” she said.

“You think?”

She jabbed her pen at him. “An attitude like that will get you nothing but an ass-kicking, mister.”

Jesus. Bedim were usually a peaceful, friendly people, but give demons some power, and they turned into… well, demons. “Whatever. Just get us some help.”

The Bedim sniffed haughtily, but already medical staff were surrounding them. A guy in scrubs gestured for Lore to follow. Lore did, to a trauma room where he laid out Cookie on the examination table. A female Trillah nurse put her fingers to the female’s wrist.

“What are you doing?” Scrubs Guy shouted at the Trillah, startling Lore. “ABCs, you idiot! Airway, breathing, circulation… in that order. You’ve been a nurse for how long?”

Snarling, whiskers twitching, the nurse bit out some choice curses, and Lore swore Scrubs Guy was going to go right over the exam table at her.

“Hey,” Lore snapped. “Is this a hospital or not?”

Scrubs Guy and the Trillah uttered more obscenities, but at least they got back to the crisis at hand.

“What happened?” Scrubs Guy had a star-shaped mole behind his ear, which meant he was some sort of shape-shifter. He cut Cookie’s shirt up the middle with shears and peeled the flaps of fabric away from her skin.

“Shot with a crossbow.” Ooh, black bra. “I don’t know what kind of bolt.”

“What species is she?”

Satin, not lace. “No clue.” And front closure. Nice.

Eidolon, dressed in green scrubs and black boots, stalked into the room with the authority of a king entering his castle. “She’s a fallen angel.”

At once, in a move so coordinated it seemed rehearsed and almost comical, everyone backed away from her, hands up.

Lore turned to Eidolon. “How do you know?”

“Tayla called. Is this the female who injured you and Kynan?”

“The very cookie.”

Eidolon lowered his voice so no one but Lore could hear. “Ky can only be injured by angels, and only fallen ones would want to harm him.”

What? Eidolon had better be wrong about that, or Lore’s job just took a turn down the Royally Fucked Highway, and there were no exits on that road to hell. “Are you sure?”

“There’s a way to confirm it.”

Eidolon went to the female’s side and touched her arm. His dermoire lit up, and she moaned. “Female? What’s your name?”

She moaned again, and Eidolon leaned close. She whispered something, and Eidolon nodded as he straightened to his full height. Concentration put lines in his brow as he channeled power into her through his hand. Eidolon’s Seminus gift allowed him to probe deep inside a body for injury and heal wounds, but when his mouth tightened into a grim slash, Lore knew the news was not good.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Poisoned. Spine’s broken and she’s got massive internal injuries.” Eidolon barked some orders to the nearby staff, and when no one moved, Eidolon snapped, “Now! It’s safe to touch her. You never had a problem with Reaver.”

Reaver… right. The fallen angel who had helped in the big battle last month. Except, apparently, he was no longer fallen. Still, what did any of this have to do with Kynan?

Carefully, the medical team turned the angel chick onto her stomach. Eidolon’s fingertips feathered over two scarlike slashes between her shoulder blades. “Definitely angel.” He glanced over at Lore. “These are wing anchors.” He continued, smoothing his long fingers down her spine to probe the bolt’s entrance wound. Before Lore’s eyes, flesh and bone began to mend. “Page Doctor Shakvhan. We need to get her into a healing bath.”

A healing bath sounded great to Lore, what with the way his gut was doing gymnastics and the room was spinning. “Hey, uh… could I get a little help here? Snicker-doodle isn’t the only one bleeding to death.”

Eidolon caught Lore by the arm and guided him into the room next to the female’s. “What happened?”

“Stabbed. My arm and leg.” Lore tugged off his jacket. “Pretty sure I’ve got some broken ribs, too.”

“Gods, you’re as bad as Wraith.” Eidolon jerked his chin toward the bed as he washed his hands in the sink. “Sit. And if you can take off your clothes, do.”

While E gloved up, Lore stripped, wincing at the tug of his muscles against his ribs and around the stab wounds. Eidolon arched an eyebrow at the pile of weapons Lore had placed next to his clothes, but he didn’t say anything.

Naked except for his boxer briefs, Lore eased onto the bed and killed time by studying a crack that snaked several feet along one gray wall, bisecting the protective symbols and letters written in blood. “Thought you guys fixed the place after all that shit last month.”

“We did,” Eidolon said, as he grabbed a towel. “But we’re still having a few issues. I’ve got contractors looking into it. The integrity of the building might have been compromised.”

Lore eyed the ceiling. “So you’re saying the building could come down on top of us?”

“Do you really think I’d keep the hospital operating if it wasn’t safe?” Eidolon wrapped the towel around Lore’s right arm, covering the tattoo that, with the exception of the lack of a personal symbol, was nearly identical to his brothers’. They’d discovered that Lore’s death touch didn’t affect Eidolon, Shade, or Wraith, but all other staff would be exposed. And since the exposure would be accidental, the Haven spell, which prevented violence and intentional injury inside the hospital, wouldn’t offer any protection.

“I dunno,” Lore said, which earned him a dirty look. Touchy. “So, aren’t angels, even fallen ones, sort of immortal?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you bother fixing her, then? She’ll heal on her own.”

“I want answers, and I don’t want to wait. The weapon Tayla used could put an angel on her ass for years.”

Lore frowned. “Why did Tayla just happen to be in possession of something that can take down a fallen angel?”

“Because she’s one of Kynan’s bodyguards.”

Bodyguards? What a pussy. “And Kynan needs protection, why?”

“Because The Aegis are a bunch of paranoid drama queens.” Eidolon tore open a packet of gauze. “Except in this case, it looks like their paranoia was justified.”

“Why would fallen angels be a threat to him?” When Eidolon said nothing, Lore cursed. “Can you at least tell me why it is that only angels can harm him?”

“And fallen angels,” Eidolon said, which wasn’t the answer to his question, but Lore had a feeling it was all he was going to get from his brother. Eidolon wheeled a tray containing various medical tools to the side of the bed. “So what were you doing with Kynan, anyway?”

“Just trying to make amends.”

Eidolon let out a dubious snort, and inside, Lore tensed. He needed his brother to buy his innocence.

“I’m serious.”

“So you’re saying this has nothing to do with Gem.” Eidolon pinched Lore’s flesh near his shoulder blade. “Hold still. This is going to hurt.”

Relieved that Eidolon’s suspicions were misplaced, Lore relaxed. “Yeah, I’m saying—ouch! Fuck!”

“I warned you.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Do you want me to patch you up, or not?”

“Are you this rude to all your patients? Or just long-lost brothers?”

Eidolon cleared his throat. “Who called who an asshole?”

If the shoe fits… “Whatever. Do I need surgery?”

“Nope. The lacerations are shallow, and nothing was hit that I can’t fix right here.” He picked up an evil-looking instrument off the tray. “A little sting….”

Lore nearly came off the damned table. Little sting, his ass. “Why aren’t you just doing the heal thing with your gift?”

“I used a lot of power on the fallen angel. Had a busy day and I was already nearly tapped before I worked on her. I don’t want to waste too much of what’s left on nonlife-threatening injuries like this. Hold still.”

Lore gnashed his teeth as Eidolon went to work, mending his flesh with a combination of manual tools and, toward the end, a little of his gift, a process that burned and was almost as painful as the initial injuries. When he was done, Lore had to admit—grudgingly—that the guy had done a good job, and his efficiency and professionalism had been downright surprising.

He was still an asshole.

“Thanks,” Lore muttered, and Eidolon gave a brief nod before calling in a nurse to clean Lore up.

The nurse lumbered in, and didn’t it just figure that it would be male. And Slogthu, which meant furry and fugly.

Lore waited to do any more probing until the nurse had finished sponging blood off him and left. When he and Eidolon were alone, Lore played casual. “So… how’s Kynan?” With any luck, dead.

A low growl rumbled up from Eidolon’s chest. “I don’t know. Shade and Tay are bringing him in. They should be here any second. What happened with Idess?”

“Idess? That’s the angel’s name?” Pretty. Idess. Eye-dess. Idess, Idess, Idess. He liked the way it rolled off his tongue. “Idess.”

Eidolon looked at Lore as if he was nuts. “Ah, yeah. Idess. What happened?”

“She popped out of thin air and attacked us.”

Eidolon frowned. “Why did she disappear from the mansion with you? Where did she take you?”

The scent of cinnamon sugar came back to Lore, hitch-hiking on the memory of Idess’s tall, slinky body clad in low-riding cammy pants and a matching olive-drab and pink tank top that had revealed a long expanse of toned, flat belly.

“She took me to some bumfuck forest, and I have no idea why she did it,” Lore said, now more confused than ever. He’d figured she was after him, but if what E had said about angels being the only creatures who could hurt Kynan was true, then maybe Lore was merely collateral damage. “I thought I was the target. She said she was going to kill me. That’s why I brought her here instead of finishing her off. I need to know if some ass-wipe put out a hit on me.” Eidolon laughed, which was pretty damned rude. “What’s so fucking funny?”

“You’re an assassin, but you’re indignant about the fact that someone might be trying to assassinate you?”

“Double standards get a bad rap.” An eerie chill whispered across Lore’s skin, but Eidolon didn’t seem to notice as he rummaged through a drawer. “Look, why don’t you give me the skinny on Kynan. If I know what you’re keeping from me, we might be able to piece together what’s up with this Idess chick.”

Eidolon tossed him a set of scrubs. “It’s not that I want to keep anything from you, but it’s Kynan’s story to tell. Not mine.”

Man, Lore hated demons with ethics. He tugged on the oh-so-manly mint-green pants while his brother dumped the bloodied tools into a biohazard bin. He was pulling the shirt over his head when that weird buzz of unease he’d gotten when he first arrived swamped him again.

“Do you feel that, E? It’s like I’m being watched.” Or hunted.

Eidolon’s head whipped around. “Like sandpaper on nerve endings?”

Lore couldn’t have said it better. Shrugging into his jacket, he nodded.

“Everyone’s feeling it. Shade, Wraith, the staff. We’ve all been on edge.”

Which explained the snippy triage nurse and the pissy folks who examined Idess when Lore first brought her in. Then again, so could the fact that they were demons.

Raised voices outside the room snapped Lore’s gaze to the doorway, where Tayla stood, green eyes blazing. “Where is that bitch?”

“Recovery,” Eidolon said, and when Tayla opened her mouth, he held up a hand. “I know what you’re going to say, but I had to fix her so we can find out what she’s up to.” He glanced at Lore. “And who she’s actually after. Where’s Ky?”

Shade brushed past Tayla. “He’s in exam three. He lost consciousness for a few minutes, but I did a quick probe inside his head and aside from a mild concussion, he’s fine. You might want to give him a tune-up with a healing wave, though.” He swung around to Lore. “What the fuck were you doing there?”

Okaaay. Lore hadn’t expected a hug or anything, but last time he’d seen Shade, the guy had at least been conversational. Sort of.

“Hello to you, too, bro.”

“Answer the question.”

Already on edge from the malevolent vibe and everything else that had gone down today, Lore shoved to his feet, through with Shade’s bullshit. “None of your fucking business.”

Shadows writhed in Shade’s eyes. “I told you to stay away from Gem.”

Like Lore needed the reminder. The warning had been the very last thing Shade had said to him as Lore left the hospital three weeks ago. Don’t be a stranger, Lore. Oh, and stay the hell away from Gem.

“Last time I checked,” Lore gritted out, “you weren’t my boss.”

Shade’s fists clenched at his sides as he took a menacing step forward, and good goddamn, if the boy wanted to throw down, Lore was more than ready. The weird venomous vibe tangled with his temper, and he met Shade head-on. The first throw was his. Seminus brother-on-brother violence wasn’t covered by the Haven spell.

Eidolon stepped between them, and Tayla flanked him. Too bad. “Shade….” The warning in Eidolon’s voice was gentle but unmistakable. “Back off. This isn’t about Gem.”

“You seriously believe that?” Shade demanded.

“What I think doesn’t matter, but yeah, I do. Lore fought the angel, which may have saved Kynan’s life. So let it go.”

There was a long, tense silence, during which a tiny stab of guilt pricked Lore’s conscience. Lore cleared his throat, more to make noise in his mind than to end the silence. “Ah, hey, can someone finally tell me what’s up with Kynan and the angel thing?”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” Shade said, throwing Lore’s words back at him.

Lore shot Eidolon a glare. “If you’re wondering why I haven’t answered any of your texts, there’s your answer. You’ve all been so welcoming.” Of course, the fact that he’d tried to kill them might have something to do with that.

“I only wanted to run some tests, find out why your gift was mutated,” Eidolon said.

“I thought everything was fucked up because I’m half human, and Seminus and human don’t mix.”

“I’m sure that’s why, but if I can ascertain exactly what went wrong, I might be able to fix it.”

Lore’s heart gave an excited thump. His gift had caused him a lifetime of misery and loneliness, and he’d give his left nut to be rid of the damned thing.

But a lifetime of disappointment had also taught him to be skeptical, so he brought himself down with a bitter laugh. “And then I’ll be grateful, and we’ll bond and be one big, happy family?”

“You have a lot of other options, then?” Eidolon drawled.

“I manage fine on my own.”

Eidolon cocked an eyebrow at the bloody pile of clothes on the floor. “Obviously.”

Sarcastic ass. Then again, Eidolon might have a tweaked sense of humor, but at least he had one. As far as Lore could tell, Shade barely knew what a smile was, and Wraith hadn’t been a bundle of laughs, either.

None of it mattered, though, because even if Lore hadn’t promised his sister he’d stay away from them, they wouldn’t ever forgive him for killing Kynan.

Assuming he could. The fact that Kynan had demonslayer bodyguards watching out for him was a complication he didn’t need. Lore could handle it—he’d trounced Buffies before. But once he got past them, he had a much bigger issue to deal with if only angels could waste Kynan.

Suffocating under the crush of so many hostile glares, Lore moved toward the door. “I’m outta here.”

“In a hurry to kill someone?” Shade asked.

The question hit a little too close to home, but Lore rolled with it, happy to needle Shade. “Yep.”

Eidolon crossed his arms over his broad chest. “You’re not going to wait for our injured angel to wake up? It isn’t like whoever you have to kill is going to get any more alive. Kill him later. Maybe while you’re waiting, he’ll get struck by lightning or something. Save you some work.” Yep, Eidolon was a comedian.

“Let him go,” Shade said. “Obviously, he has work to do.”

Shade’s false niceness made Lore want to stay out of spite. “What do you guys plan to do with Idess?”

“As soon as she’s awake, we’ll get some answers out of her.” Eidolon leveled Lore a cold look, made all the more chilling by the fact that there was no emotion in it. “One way or another.”

Lore hoofed it toward UGH’s Harrowgate, away from his brothers, and away from Kynan. But he wasn’t heading home. Not yet.

Casting a covert glance over his shoulder to make sure his nosy siblings weren’t watching, he slipped past the triage desk and down a hall, knowing exactly where he was going. He’d interrogated staff and memorized the hospital blueprints when he’d plotted out the hits on Shade and Eidolon. The recovery rooms, three suites outfitted with various types of baths, chairs, and heated and chilled beds, were at the end of the wing, just past the seawater pool that was big enough for a killer whale to do laps in.

He found Idess in the first recovery room.

Everything but her head had been immersed in a vat of what was probably water infused with magical herbs. A spicy, medicinal fragrance permeated the air and made him want to sneeze as he closed the door behind him and moved toward her. The water bubbled around Idess, and steam swirled over the surface, but none of that hid the fact that she was naked. Shadows thrown by the dim light accented full breasts and slim hips, but left details tantalizingly to the imagination.

Lore had always had a great imagination.

Someone had taken the gold rings out of her hair, and now her chestnut mane fanned out across an inflatable pillow and the tiled floor behind her head, and he had the strangest urge to touch it and see if it was as silky as it looked.

Instead, he went down on his heels at the edge of the pool and studied her profile, so feminine and peaceful, as if she were lounging in a Jacuzzi instead of recovering from an injury that would have killed anyone else. Her long, sable lashes cast shadows across the delicate ivory skin beneath her eyes, and her cheeks had pinked up, maybe from the heat of the water—or a sexy dream.

“Don’t suppose you can hear me?”

Her eyelids fluttered, but didn’t open.

“What’s your deal?” he asked quietly. “You after Kynan, or me?” This time, her eyes opened and fixed on him. There was no recognition there, no sign that she even knew where she was.

“Rami?” There was hope and desperation in her voice, both of which made a person vulnerable. Exploitable.

He could use that. “Yes,” he said, running with the exploitation thing. “It’s Rami.”

Her lush lips curved into a smile that punched him right in the gut. That was a mouth any man would kill to taste—or to have taste him.

“You’ve come for me?”

He couldn’t help it; he let his gaze slide down the long, lean length of her. Freaking gorgeous. “Yeah,” he rasped. “I’ve come for you.” I’d come with you.

“Good,” she sighed. “Take me to heaven.”

His dick jerked, all, Sure, we’ll take you up on that offer, and Lore had to admit, if circumstances were different—meaning, she hadn’t tried to kill him—he’d be all over that. “First, why don’t you tell me what your mission is?”

She frowned. “Did I fail?”

“Fail to kill Kynan?”

“Kill?” She shifted, and a lock of hair slipped into the water, spreading like blood over her chest. “Protect.”

Acid bubbled up in Lore’s throat. She was Kynan’s protector?

“Take me, brother,” she said, and whoa, that cooled his jets. “Take me to Heaven so I can get my wings.”

Lore rocked backward, remembering what she’d told him at the mansion.

Who sent you?

God.

Oh, Jesus, she was really talking about Heaven. The Heaven. Not a fallen angel. An angel.

Not that it mattered. She was a threat to him if she was truly protecting Kynan.

Numbly, he peeled off his glove. The hospital was safe-guarded by the Haven spell, but he was willing to risk a skull-splitting headache if it meant saving his sister’s life. He’d suffered worse, for sure.

He reached for Idess. All he needed to do was to brush a knuckle over her cheek… a lover’s caress that would send her to Heaven, just as she’d asked. She closed her eyes, as if anticipating his touch, and his hand began to shake.

What the hell? He was an assassin. A cold-blooded killer. And she was dangerous, someone who not only stood between him and his goal, but who had tried to whack him.

But right now, she didn’t look dangerous. She looked sweet and angelic. Fragile. Helpless.

Lore might be a killer, but he had standards, and he’d never, ever taken the coward’s way out. He gave every one of his victims the courtesy of a wide-awake, face-to-face assassination. Murdering a female while she recovered from injuries was low, even for him.

The door opened. Lore leaped to his feet to face Wraith, who stood there, blond hair falling around a severe jawline and fangs bared in a silent snarl. “What are you doing?”

“Just thought I’d check on her. Why are you here?”

Wraith’s gaze dropped to Lore’s exposed hand, and when he looked back up, the glint of awareness in his blue eyes told Lore his brother knew exactly what had been about to happen. “Your revenge will have to wait.”

Lore exhaled, a futile attempt to release some tension. “Why?”

“Because,” Wraith said, his voice thick with anger, “I’m going to get into her head. I want to know who wants Kynan dead. And then I’m going to make them wish they’d never been born.”