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Operation Middle of the Garden 03 - Of Consuming Fire Page 4
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Jayden’s muscles tensed just as the sound of gunfire lit the room. His left shoulder jerked forward, and Jayden stared down at a blooming spread of red right above his left pectoral. He felt no pain; he never did. But he did feel that calm adrenaline rush all warriors experienced in the heat of battle. The defilers before him huddled toward the floor, the blond one and blue-eyed one sheltering the women with their bodies in a move that Jayden would not have expected but could not help but approve.
Jayden turned to face the attack in a lazy spin. He could tell his utter lack of an emotional response made the attackers wary as he met their eyes. It was only a small group of men: three soldiers, covered in dust from the earthquake, each armed with a deadly automatic assault rifle.
Deadly to man, that is. And Jayden was not a man.
He lowered his chin and tightened the grip on his sword, and their gunfire stuttered to a stop. They had only hit him once, which meant they were not aiming to kill. He supposed he could return the favor.
He raised his left hand to chest height, stretched out before him. From the flat of his palm, he sent a blast of energy toward the three men. They fell back like trees in a storm, their weapons shooting from their hands and skittering across the floor as they fired ineffectually into the air. The blast robbed the three attackers of consciousness.
He turned back to the defilers just as nonchalantly as he had turned from them. All four gazed up at him with varying expressions of horror. He felt her eyes upon him, and avoided staring back at her, though he hungered to do so.
What was he going to do with these humans for seven months? He could not continue to let them wander free. For one thing, they were vile defilers. For another, letting them out of his sight would only trigger the Compulsion, and Jayden desperately wanted to delay that for as long as possible. He told himself it was for thousands of reasons, none of which involved a reticence to kill his Temptation.
He frowned. He had no place to store five humans for seven months. Cherubim did not own compounds. But he was currently standing in the midst of a compound in disarray —
He flicked the sword to the left, toward the area of the facility where he knew the delicate one lay in bed. “Move now or die now,” Jayden said simply and in a level voice. “The choice is yours.”
When they all blinked up at him wordlessly, Jayden reached forward and grabbed the blond one by the collar of his shirt and jerked him to his feet. “Die now, it is,” Jayden said, pressing the blade of his sword to the man’s throat and fighting a sick feeling climbing his throat as he prayed he could stop with just this one. The blade shimmered in the glow of the lights.
“No!” the mouthy one yelled, shooting to her feet and dragging his Temptation to hers as well. “We’ll move. We’ll move!” She was screaming the words at him in near hysteria, and Jayden barely refrained from shaking his head.
Weak.
“That’s right,” the blue-eyed one said, his hands spread out wide in a placating manner. “We’re moving right now.”
Jayden shrugged as he willed his heart to slow and released the blond one. “Now or later,” he said with forced calm. “The outcome will be the same.” He flicked his sword toward the exit one more time, and this time, all four humans made their way to the door with urgency.
They entered the wing where the other defiler was located, and shocked mortals stopped in their path as they stepped around rubble and stared at the picture they made. Without having to receive any more direction, the defilers made their way to the delicate one’s room and filed in without a word. Jayden stood in front of the door, barring their exit, and turned to face the mortals lurking in the hall. “Get out,” he said softly. The majority of them needed no convincing; their already frazzled nerves from the earthquake had them running toward the exit. But one or two remained in the hallway, gawking at the blood-soaked angel. Jayden reached out and snatched the one closest to him, tossing him toward the exit, and the rest took the hint, sprinting away as quickly as their inferior bodies could carry them.
When Jayden saw no more mortals, he tilted his head to the side and sent telepathic feelers out to the remaining rooms in the wing. Satisfied that no one else remained in this part of the building, he sent another blast of energy toward the entrance to the wing. The earth rumbled, and giant pieces of the already weakened ceiling began to crack and fall to the ground. In seconds, the wing was closed off from the world, a mountain of debris sealing them in.
He turned around to find all five defilers glaring at him.
He met every glare. “You five are my prisoners from now until the moment you die.”
He created this problem. He would contain it until the end. He could easily defend this fortress of a facility from outside interference.
“Your prisoners?” the blond one asked.
“Like hell!”
They erupted into a cacophony of mindless arguments that Jayden paid no heed to while the delicate one asked what was going on in a small, scared voice from her bed.
Jayden saw nothing but his Temptation. Something in her expression both beguiled and worried him. She seemed to be focused on a burden all her own, one that had nothing to do with being trapped in a building with four humans and an angel. Jayden watched as she opened her mouth and spoke softly to the room at large.
“Excuse me,” she whispered.
The others did not hear her. They were too busy arguing with each other and yelling at him.
“Excuse me!” she shouted.
The four stopped mid-word and turned to face her.
Her hand trembled as it shoved her unruly red hair from her eyes, and her thoughts were embroiled with the words she had received from the Most High right after turning immortal. Her gray eyes flicked Jayden’s direction for a moment, as though she already suspected what the answer would be, before asking, “What does The One mean?”
Their mouths all dropped open. As a unit, their heads all swiveled in Jayden’s direction.
The mouthy one was the first to react. “Oh, shit.”
Chapter Four
Grace’s world narrowed down to her worst nightmare. Grace stared at Dahlia and Abilene with a hand over her mouth. “Please tell me you’re kidding,” she begged through her fingers.
She was sitting next to Dahlia at Abilene’s bedside. They were locked in, the door the most secure modern technology could provide. They all knew it provided no protection whatsoever.
As soon as the words The One left her mouth, things had changed. Her simple question garnered an immediate and intense result. Eli had turned on the angel, shouting, “What did you do to her?” Jericho had placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder in a vain attempt to calm him, and Dahlia had ordered, “Men, out!” so fiercely that even the angel had not hesitated to obey. And then had come the earth-shattering news. Dahlia explained everything. Words Grace never wanted to hear spoken aloud — orgasm, touch, excruciating pain — peppered every sentence. When Grace had looked upon the angel after the fruit turned her, she had Impulse-paired with him. They were now mates, and as Dahlia continued to describe everything that would entail, Grace nearly suffocated from panic. She found herself near hyperventilation toward the end when she was told she was going to have to touch herself, to bring herself to orgasm, to avoid what Dahlia and Abilene both called “a pain worse than death.”
They spoke this so easily, as though it weren’t completely shattering. Sure, bring herself to orgasm. Avoid pain. They didn’t realize that sex and pain were inextricably twined in Grace’s mind. She hadn’t touched herself since it happened. Years without a single orgasm. And that was just the way she liked it. “Impulse-paired?” Grace repeated in a dead voice to the two women who were so happy in love it was obnoxious. “Like you two did with Eli and Jericho?” Their happiness could never be hers, and they couldn’t seem to recognize that.
Dahlia exchanged a glance with Abilene while the baby’s heartbeat echoed steadily from the many monitors in the room. “Well,” Da
hlia said, “I wouldn’t say exactly like we did. We weren’t held prisoner by a crazy man with a vendetta.”
Abilene smiled weakly and shifted with a wince, her hand smoothing over her protruding belly. “Speak for yourself.”
“Huh,” Dahlia said, squinting her eyes. “I guess that’s right. Come to think of it, Jericho kinda held me prisoner, too.” She looked at Grace again. “Forget what I said. This is totally normal.”
Grace launched herself from her seat. “Normal? I’ve Impulse-paired with a psycho,” she ticked off the items on her fingers as she glared at the women, “I’m going to have to touch myself, and what’s more horrifying, everyone knows it. Or, I let the psycho touch me.” She didn’t stop the shudder of revulsion. That last item was definitely not an option. “Oh, yeah. And we’re being held prisoner by that same psycho until ‘the moment we die,’” she dropped the tally to make air quotes with her fingers, “which is God knows how long — ”
“Oh my God,” Abilene interrupted, trying to sit up straighter. “I’m going to give birth in captivity, aren’t I?” The heart rate monitor’s beeping increased in pace.
Dahlia rolled her eyes. “Way to go, Red.” Dahlia reached for Abilene’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Relax, Abi. None of us knows how long the angel plans on keeping us.”
“What am I going to do? I’m the only doctor. I can’t deliver my own baby!” The heart rate didn’t slow.
Some of Grace’s rage abated, and her energy whooshed out of her like wind leaving sails. “I’m sorry — ” Grace began.
Dahlia cut her off. “You don’t get to talk for a second.” She turned back to Abilene, her other hand moving to cover hers where it clenched on her belly. “Relax, Abi. Shhh … Going into labor now is not the best idea, okay?”
Abilene focused on Dahlia’s face, and the words seemed to penetrate because she nodded, closed her eyes, and focused on breathing deeply.
The beeps slowed, and Dahlia and Grace breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief. Grace opened her mouth to speak, but Dahlia shook her head. “If the time comes, you’ll tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Okay? Everything will be fine.” Her slim, brown fingers moved to Abilene’s hair, and she ran them through the blond ringlets over and over again and Abilene’s breathing relaxed.
The poor woman, a full two weeks past due, was always exhausted. It wasn’t long before she fell into deep slumber.
Grace took her seat by Dahlia again as the woman leaned back and let out a breath. “I really am sorry,” Grace felt the need to say again.
Dahlia turned to her. “For what? This isn’t your fault.”
Wish I could agree. Everything about this felt like her fault. Something told her that their captor was far too interested in Grace for their imprisonment to be an accident.
“Now,” Dahlia said, drawing Grace from her thoughts. “If I could get close enough to touch him, I could use the Knowledge. Find out if his intent is evil.”
Raw jealousy flashed red behind Grace’s eyes, and she made a noise that sounded feral. “You will not touch him,” Grace growled.
Grace clapped a hand over her mouth with a gasp.
Dahlia raised an eyebrow, her fingers in Abilene’s hair pausing for a moment. “Okay, see, this is what we were talking about, Red.” Her brown eyes sharpened. “It’s only going to get worse. You need to take care of things. The sooner the — ”
“I can’t do that,” Grace said desperately, cutting Dahlia off mid-sentence.
Dahlia chuckled. “Relax. You might like it.”
Grace made a gagging noise, and Dahlia’s smile widened. “Or, hey, give the angel some payback for being an utter ass. Make him do it. One angel sex slave coming up,” she said on a chuckle.
Dahlia’s eyes immediately widened at whatever expression she saw on Grace’s face. “Okay, bad joke,” she said quickly, reaching for Grace with one hand.
Grace flinched away, nearly falling from her chair. She used the momentum to roll to her feet, something she never would have accomplished before, and launched herself into a pacing tirade at the foot of Abilene’s bed. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.”
And then, Grace caught sight of her reflection in the glass of the door. She stopped dead in her tracks. “Oh, God,” she said again, this time a whisper. Her fingers moved to the glass and traced her image. I’m … pretty. The thought had a curious effect: half elation, half dread. On the one hand, she had never been pretty before. Had never been noticed as such by the opposite sex. Never admired. On the other hand, she had never been pretty before. Had never, since that one time, been the kind of woman a man forced. No man had wanted to touch her. She’d made sure of it, enhancing her natural ugliness with a cultivated one.
The dread won. “This isn’t happening,” Grace shrieked, her voice rising. “God, I can’t be pretty!” Her hands fell to her belly, which was notably smaller. Hysteria took over. “It’s gone.” Her breathing dissolved into hyperventilation. “My weight,” she moaned.
“Hey, whoa,” Dahlia said, rising to her feet and standing between Grace and the door’s reflection. “Grace, what’s happened to you?” Dahlia reached toward her.
Grace flinched away from Dahlia’s hand, and worried her bottom lip at the flare of concern in Dahlia’s warm eyes. Should I tell her? The desire to do so was completely foreign. She hadn’t told anyone since the police report and unsuccessful trial, but it was suddenly ready to burst out of her. This was her worst nightmare. She was faced with touching herself, or even having someone else touch her. She needed help. “Dahlia,” she began hesitantly, “I was — ”
The door smashed open. Abilene started in the bed, and Dahlia was a blur as she spun around.
The angel stood in the doorway, menace radiating off of him in waves. His honey-green eyes pinned her with a stare that was completely indefinable, and Grace shrunk back, worried that he’d somehow overheard and guessed what she’d been about to say.
His wings weren’t visible anymore, but his shoulders took up the entire door space. His robe shimmered in the low lighting. His hair flowed over his shoulders in waves.
Her betraying body lurched as feelings she’d never felt swarmed over her, the predominant one lust.
And then his eyes softened. He swept her body with a hungry look.
Boots sounded in the hallway, breaking the spell. Jericho and Eli elbowed past the angel, pinning him with reproachful stares. The angel tilted his head to the side as he stared right back at them. Then he suddenly spun around and stalked off leaving them all with baffled expressions on their faces.
Grace’s confusion at the angel’s sudden departure was overwhelmed by the flare of need he had ignited with that hungry look. She closed her eyes and wound her arms around her stomach. As she tried to hold herself together, she couldn’t help but wish she’d died.
• • •
They were as easy to read as young children after forbidden sweets. Jayden shook his head, disappointed in the lack of challenge the defilers presented.
He wanted to hear whatever it was that his Temptation had been about to tell the mouthy one, but the men storming in with loud thoughts of escape forced Jayden to step outside and prepare for their plan.
Jayden reached the cave-in in seconds. He took up residence in the corner between wall and rubble, and slowly unfurled his wings — a move as close to a lazy stretch Jayden would ever get. He encircled himself with the iridescent feathers, immediately rendering himself invisible to the human eye.
He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest and his legs at the ankle. Now, it was a waiting game. If their thoughts had been any indication, the men would not be able to wait long before acting on their idea.
A handful of moments later, the door to the delicate one’s room swung inward without a sound.
Jayden never smiled, but nevertheless, he found it difficult to tamp down a surge of amusement. In the years that had passed since Jayden’s last unfortunate — for the human anyway — encounter wit
h man, Jayden had forgotten that they were a constant source of lowbrow entertainment, not too different from watching baby animals blunder around.
The blond one stuck his head out into the hallway and looked right and left. He made a gesture as he moved to stand beside the door. The blue-eyed one sprinted out the door and toward Jayden and the cave-in.
“Where is he?” the blue-eyed one hissed, reaching for a rock and silently setting it aside.
Jayden parted his wings and cleared his throat. Both men froze. “I believe I can answer that,” Jayden said softly.
“Oh, hell,” the blond one muttered from his post.
The blue-eyed one turned his head slowly until he met Jayden’s gaze.
“I do not think I need to tell you that I could easily squelch this misbegotten escape attempt.”
The blue-eyed one shook his head.
“Good. Now, return to your women and inform them of your failure.”
Raw anger flared quickly in those blue eyes, and his thoughts screamed rebellion, but the man stared at Jayden without an audible word.
On the other side of the rubble, Jayden heard the whispers of many men. His temper frayed to the breaking point. A rescue attempt from both sides? These humans did not know what they played with.
The Compulsion throbbing within his skull, Jayden jerked forward and snatched the blue-eyed one to him with a hand around the throat.
“Hey, hey — ” the blond one said in a voice half urgent, half soothing. With palms out, he took several steps toward where Jayden now squeezed the other human’s neck.
“Stay where you are,” Jayden barked as he struggled to get the Compulsion back under control. If those men on the outside burst through, that would be it. Jayden would lose himself and regain awareness amid horrible carnage. No one was safe.
A vein began to throb in the blue-eyed one’s forehead, and still the man glared at Jayden with all the defiance he possessed. Against his will, Jayden felt a flare of respect stab through him.