She doesn’t look scared anymore. Instead, she gets a sly look in her eyes, a smirk crawling across her face.
No, it’s not sly. It’s… it’s hungry.
That terrifies me. It strikes a kind of fear inside of me that I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before. I’m scared of the corrupted, of course. But the corrupted attack me, not from any kind of personal hatred but just because it’s how they are. We’re at war. Demons dislike angels, but it’s not about me. It’s not about Trinity.
This feels like it is. Like Morrigan is hungry for me. For Trinity the angel.
It sends a shiver down my spine.
I turn away and press myself instinctively against Remington and Beckett, then scold myself for doing that. I take a couple steps back instead, only to run into Ford and Phoenix, who are guarding me from the rear. No matter which way I turn, I’m surrounded by the men.
“Keep yourself steady,” Ford grumbles. Beckett glances back at me like he’s also a bit displeased, but doesn’t say anything.
All four men stay in a tight group around me though, guarding me as we move out and leave Morrigan behind. I hope I never have to see her again. And I hope she doesn’t do anything… too awful with my blood.
If only I could know for sure.
We head back to Beckett’s place with the body and the charm so that we can perform the ritual and undo the portal.
Good. I’m excited for this to finally end.
My nerves feel like they’re strung out and at the very end of how far they can possibly stretch. But at the same time, I’m a bit scared to take the next steps. What’ll this mean once we finish? What will happen to the men? Will I be able to find a way to stay in their lives and work more on redeeming them? Or will they dismiss me and want nothing to do with me?
Probably the latter. I don’t see any reason for them to keep me around.
When the elevator dings on the top floor, Beckett holds the door for me to step out ahead of him. “Do you need a shower or something?” he asks, his voice unusually quiet. “That woman’s place stunk.”
“I’ll make you something,” Remington announces, putting his hands on my shoulders to move around me and into the kitchen. “Beck, I’m taking over your kitchen.”
“Good to know that I have a choice in the matter,” Beckett replies, but he sounds tiredly amused rather than annoyed or angry. He guides me to sit down at one of the high-top chairs in the kitchen at the island. Phoenix settles in the chair next to me, while Ford storms on past, clearly still annoyed.
“I’m going to go check on our friend,” he calls over his shoulder, the last two words coming out with a sarcastic bite. He heads down the hallway toward the room where we’re keeping the bookie, and I shudder to think that we still have to deal with another corrupted. I’ve been having far too many run-ins with them lately for my liking.
Every time we have to deal with one of the corrupted, or someone like Morrigan, I can feel my skin crawling. I’ve never felt like this before. I wonder if it’s due to the fact that I’m an angel—if something about my basic makeup revolts against the evil energy that emanates from beings like demons and the death witch.
I don’t feel that way when I’m with the men though. They might be the personification of sin, but… they don’t feel like that. Not exactly. They don’t give me the same creeping, crawling sensation over my skin and up my spine.
Maybe, just maybe, when this is finished I can find a way to convince them to keep me around.
I have to, don’t I?
I still have to redeem them, and I don’t think that just closing the portal is going to be enough. Not with all that they’ve been up to for hundreds of years. And I still need to meet the other three brothers and somehow convince them to start doing good deeds as well.
“What the fuck?”
The loud bellow comes from down the hall, and a second later, a door slams.
Ford storms back into the kitchen, fury coming off him in waves, and I jump with fear as he strides right over to me and grabs me by the front of my dress. “What the fuck did you do?”
“Hey! What the hell, man?” Phoenix says, half-rising from his seat.
“He’s gone!” Ford growls the words right in my face, shaking me. “What did you do with him? Why did you let him escape?”
“Who?” I blurt out, terrified.
All of Ford’s anger, all of what makes him Wrath, is concentrated on me, and I want to burst into tears. I know it’s not very warrior-like of me, and angels are supposed to be warriors; we’re supposed to be fighting a war for Upstairs, for our home and the side of good—but I can’t help how I feel.
And right now I feel very, very afraid.
“Our. Fucking. Lead.” The blond man’s usually clear blue eyes seem to blaze with fire. “You let him escape! And now he’s probably off warning whoever else is behind this thing that we’re coming after them! Our advantage is fucking gone! The element of surprise is gone. What the fuck did you do?”
Oh. Crap.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Phoenix
Trinity’s eyes go wide with shock as Ford crowds her with his body, dipping his head so his face is just inches from hers.
She looks shocked.
And terrified.
Dammit.
I usually make it a point not to get involved in any of my brothers’ fights or arguments. There’s no reason to, usually. They always work it out in the end, after they get whatever the hell it is out of their system.
But this is total bullshit. Trinity didn’t let Henrik go. She was with us the whole damn time, and even if there was a moment when she could’ve slipped away and freed him, that makes no damn sense.
Ford is thinking with his rage again, which is to say, he’s not thinking at all.
And now I’ve gotta do something I really fucking hate to do.
Step in.
I open my mouth to draw a breath, but before I can say anything, Trinity snaps. Seriously, I swear I can almost hear the sound of a rubber band twanging as her back goes ramrod straight.
“Are you kidding me?” she shrieks, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Remington’s eyebrows shoot straight up. All three of us are watching her and Ford, riveted to the sight before us. “I didn’t let him go! Why on earth would I do that when I’m the one who wanted to close the stupid portal in the first place! So why would I do anything to sabotage that? Huh?”
The angel is at least a foot shorter than Ford is, and about half his body weight. She’s barefoot, and still dressed in the slinky gown she wore to the casino, although it’s now stained with blood and dirt and ripped in a few somewhat revealing places.
Her chest is heaving, and her wings have popped out in her righteous anger.
She’s fucking gorgeous.
“I don’t accuse you of sabotage every time something doesn’t go right,” she continues, taking a step toward Ford, her chin jutting out defiantly. “And just because I didn’t want to kill that demon doesn’t mean I’m going to sneak around behind your back and let him go. I understood why you kept him tied up before—that’s why I didn’t say anything then! And yes, I may be a little innocent and naive sometimes, but if the alternative is to be a raging asshole like you, I’ll stick to my naivety, thanks very much!”