Page 13 of Angel's Vengeance
“We have never met a female charmer before, so forgive us if we appear skeptical,” Tungsten offered as a way of encouragement.As if getting her to talk would make anything about Rhode’s current circumstances more palatable.
“It’s true that I’m the only female, but you aresowrong if you think I have any sort of power to wield against you.In fact, I shouldn’t have been able to manage magic at all, let alone whatever healing hooey happened in front of that mechanic’s garage.”
“Why is that?”Iron asked.
The woman shifted the cloud of golden curls off one shoulder and arranged it on the other, looking for all the world like she’d rather be eating her shoe than subjecting herself to the proverbial firing squad.“Because I’m a mistake.”
Titan’s brows shot up, along with those of the other angels.“Pardon?”
Thatdidcause Rhode to bristle, though not for a reason he’d ever admit.It wasn’t an accident that he’d kept his back largely to her, despite every cell of his training ordering him to maintain the enemy in his sights at all costs.
Laughable, really.He’d already paid the cost, hadn’t he?So what was one breach in procedure when facing her would only highlight his very real and very concerning mistake?
Even with his back to her, his muscles pulled in taut stretches of tension, as if his body was revolting against not keeping its prey within its sights.
But he couldn’t look at her.Couldn’t stand to allow even his eyes to touch upon her fine features for more than was necessary before he lost the battle of not only drinking in her presence but drowning in it.
Mages dammit, but she looked nothing like a charmer, and his body thickened with the memory of it.Of all the infuriating things he could claim a photographic recollection of, why wasshenot only at the top of the list but the sole occupant of the roster?There were no angles to her form except for those that freely plunged his gaze off the cliff of her curves before carrying it down a wealth of seductive slopes.Delicate, yet plentiful from every riotous curl to flaring fit, she was a mouthwatering vision.
And the embodiment of all his nightmares.
Rhode clenched his fists, his face blazing, and tried to hold on to the sole truth of Tungsten’s words as salvation for his body’s traitorous reactions.
The soul bond.If Rhode required more proof of the prime sentinel’s supposition, he needn’t look any further than his attraction.It was as she said, a mistake, for the mages only knew he’d never choose this fate willingly.
And he was a prisoner to it once again.
The soft breath Neela sucked in tickled the hairs at his nape even from across the room, so he looked over his shoulder as the demon stole his attention anew, and he braced himself for more of the universe’s surprises.
“Cyro is our sire.All of us.Each charmer is birthed from a part of him, literal pieces of himself that he hacks off and combines with dark magic to create the race.”
“Pieces of himself?”Titan asked.
“Yes.I don’t like to think about it too much, but I doubt mortals like to dwell on the logistics of how they were born either.In any case, each sect of charmer is spawned from a different part of our sire.For mystics, the magic users, they are created from fingernails.Our elite, the warriors, stem from drops of our sire’s sweat.And the apexes, Cyro’s most powerful class of charmers, are cast from his fangs.”
The information she’d just revealed swirled heavily among the sentinels, while still remaining just out of reach.Furtive glances spoke of how quickly the wheels in their minds were spinning and ultimately coming to the same abrupt halt as Rhode’s own.
Vital intelligence but ultimately useless.
Neela, seemingly unaware of the silent analysis, simply took a sip of her drink and continued.“Cyro regenerates whatever parts of himself he uses and can create an army of charmers in no time at all at this point.”A penetrating silence filled the room with the implications of her statement, and Rhode’s hand instinctively drifted toward the empty holsters of his kamas.Then Neela took a deep breath.“But that wasn’t always the case.Before he figured out his current MO, there was me.”
At that, Rhode shifted and lifted a brow at her.“MO?Really?Is Cyro teaching his minions Latin now?”
She bristled.“Modus operandi,” she fired back with the air of a teenager who, rather than intending to bridge a generation gap, preferred to blow it up instead.“Was something I said unclear?”
“No.Simply that you don’t speak like they do.”
Neela straightened her back, the maneuver offering up further distractions than Rhode had the patience for.“And you don’t get to tell my story.”
A silent challenge flitted through those honey-gold irises, so like those of every charmer he’d ever known, and yet ...not.Before he threw himself across the room to do mages knew what—Grab her?Kill her?—he locked his knees and nodded for her to continue.
“He never told me the whole tale, but Cyro has always had a goal to breach the gates of the Empyrean, though once he learned I was a failed attempt at achieving that goal and wasn’t able to help him in that regard, he largely kept me segregated from the meat of his plans.”
“Why didn’t he just kill you?”Rhode asked.
There.He’d said it.Whether it was a calculated wish on his part or a genuine curiosity, he couldn’t say, but it didn’t stop him from reveling in the slightest bit of enjoyment at the discomfort thickening the air.
Good.At least I’m not the only one knee-deep in this shit.